Chapter Text
James stood next to the Strider residence's doorway, checking his watch every few seconds. He wanted to be exactly on time. Making good impressions was all about being punctual anyway, right? Not that he had any impression to make, he already made one a long time ago. But this was his first time seeing where the Striders lived, and he didn't want to seem like he dreaded going there.
It was 5:58 and he took to pacing the length of the hallway impatiently, trying not to stare at his watch too much, nor think about whether or not he should have changed before he arrived at his destination. He wore his usual business attire but, because it was what he usually wore, would it be considered not fancy enough? Strider promised him a romantic candelit dinner, maybe he should've at least changed the color scheme of his outfit? He shoved these thoughts out of his mind with a small wave of his hand. It’s not like he could go home now and change, so it’s no use worrying about it, he told himself.
Finally, his watch struck 6:00 and he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. To his dismay, it didn’t work very well, or at all, and he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants before lifting one hand up to push the doorbell.
He didn’t have to wait long however, for just a moment later Strider answered the door and, as cliché as it sounded, the sight that greeted him took his breath away. Warm amber eyes met icy blue ones. He didn’t even know that color was genetically possible. He found that, to his relief, Strider was wearing basically what he wore, just with different colors. A nervous smile spread the corners of his lips as Strider invited him inside. He reached up instinctively to take off his fedora, but then realized that the other was still wearing his cap (wait, wasn’t it usually grey?) and figured he could leave it on.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” The younger man welcomed him as he led them to the table. The smell of freshly delivered pizza permeated the air, causing James’ eyebrows to furrow in confusion. Wasn’t this supposed to be a romantic dinner? He admittedly didn’t expect a lot out of Strider but... Really? When he sat at the table, he tried not to show his disappointment. Perhaps this had to do with irony? He didn’t understand the whole idea very well, though he did try to.
He didn’t want to be rude, but he had to ask, “What’s with this whole set up? Does it have to do with all this irony you keep telling me about?” Maybe it would strike up a conversation, he told himself.
Strider nodded with a small smile, though his eyes had a flicker of... uncertainty? Nervousness? He couldn’t tell, maybe it was just a trick of the candle light. “Yeah, I thought that since it’s a bit difficult to explain, that maybe if I put it into practice it would be easier for you. And what better place than my own, where it’s easiest to perfect every touch?” His eyes never looked up to meet James’ as he talked, focusing on grabbing a couple of slices of pizza without the cheese sliding off.
James nodded. He thought he was getting the hang of it. “Okay, but I’m still having a bit of trouble understanding it. Can you explain?” After asking this he reached up and grabbed a slice of his own, biting into it eagerly. On the one hand, he didn’t expect this at all, but on the other hand, he hasn’t been able to have a supreme pizza since he found John.
“Of course.” Strider replied before biting into his own slice and continuing, “Well, this is ironic because you would expect a romantic dinner to have something fancy like, say, a couple of steaks. But this is the exact opposite, but it’s used in a romantic setting. Really, the only thing that’s remotely romantic are the candles and wine, but you get the idea. Speaking of, would you like some wine?” He picked up the already uncorked bottle, poured himself some into his cup before his hand paused over James’ until he nodded.
“I think I know what you’re talking about. I don’t think I’ve ever had wine with pizza before...” He trailed off and brought the plastic cup to his mouth and took a sip. It tasted very sweet, almost like a dessert wine. Strider probably hasn’t gotten used to more mature wines, he was still young after all, he thought. As sweet as the drink was, however, it didn’t go very well with the pizza, at all.
But before he could mention anything about it (nor did he want to, he didn’t want to seem rude) Strider’s face scrunched up slightly after he had a sip of his own and almost mumbled, “Yeah okay, that was a really stupid idea, why would I do that, I should’ve known that this wouldn’t go with pizza at all, Jesus fuck I’m so sorry.” He got up to put the bottle in the kitchen, putting the cork back in it as he left the table. He came back and grabbed the two cups before the older man could protest, that it was fine, it wasn’t that bad. Strider turned on the lights in the kitchen, which was actually only a few feet away, and called back to James half-jokingly, “How about some beer instead? Can’t go wrong with that, right?”
“You don’t have to go through the trouble, it’s fine really-” The businessman started before he got cut off.
“Sorry to disappoint but I already opened the bottle so you’re obligated to drink it now.” The younger man told him with a smile.
“The wine was already opened as well though...” James mumbled, trailing off.
“Yes, but the wine was shitty with the pizza.” Strider corrected him.
“Alright alright. So is this another bit of irony I’m experiencing or is it just something you say to cover up whatever you screwed up on?” He asked, half-jokingly and half-serious. But after he said it, he saw a look of “oh shit” cross the other's features. Almost like he figured something out he shouldn’t have. Strider looked down at the table, biting his lip. "...Strider?"
"Yeah okay, you got me." He admitted, frowning.
"What do you mean? I was just joking." James asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.
"I actually was planning on having a legitimate romantic dinner. I got steaks and good plates and all that shit. But I screwed up the steaks so horribly I don't think they were eatable. Now don't get me wrong, I'm actually good at cooking, I just... I don't know what happened. So I ordered a pizza and tried to pull it off as irony. I'm so sorry, this isn't what you were expecting at all and I screwed everything up and..." He explained as if he didn't hear a word his boyfriend said, like he didn't want to say any of that but couldn't go back and fix it so he kept going. "And you probably wouldn't have suspected a thing unless I said all this just now. ...Fuck me." He mumbled to himself as an after thought.
James couldn't help but laugh at the small rant he heard. To which he received an embarrassed glare before he explained, "Haven't I told you before you even planned this whole thing? I don't care how romantic or ironic it is. We could be in a five star restaurant for all I care. So long as we're spending time together I don't care what we do. So don't stress yourself out so much about it, alright?"
Strider's ears turned slightly red at that, but nodded, saying stubbornly, "Alright, alright, but I still want a redo of this fiasco of a date."
To which the other man shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Whatever floats your boat. But really, the pizza is nice. I haven't been able to have a supreme pizza since John stopped eating baby food."
"Really? Shit man I would've bought a pizza for myself."
"Well unlike you I'm an old man. I can't afford the luxury of a whole pizza to myself without getting stomach problems."
They chatted and bantered in this way until Strider ate half the pizza and James ate a measly two slices. At least the latter half of the night had gone as planned, with ironically shitty rom-coms and cuddling and falling asleep to the sound of movie credits rolling endlessly off the screen.