Chapter Text
Usnavi owed Vanessa a bottle of champagne and he's keen on keeping his promise. His first day at work is over, the first since he decided that there would, in fact, be many more days at work for him at the bodega, and here he is, showing up at the train station, holding up a big bottle of champagne for her when she gets off that train from the Bronx. What a day at work for her. Daniela was impossible, innuendos every five minutes, insufferable in her knowledge that Vanessa was, in fact, dying for the day to end so she could spend that night with Usnavi again, except that he won't leave her now, she trusts that he won't.
"I got you that champagne!" He proclaims proudly and damn if she doesn't want to kiss him again.
They haven't yet, not since she thought she would lose him forever, but she still has in her hands the feel of his face between them and his own at her waist. Vanessa has kissed many people before, and Usnavi just once but he's already topped the list. She craves to feel it all again.
"I'm not moving till end of month," she says, grabbing the bottle. "Will you have another one for me then?"
Usnavi scratches his head and smiles like a nerd and yep, she definitely wants to kiss him again. He holds up his arm for her to take like they've gone back a hundred years in the past, walking down the streets just like she wanted − maybe she'll get used to him being a little bit old-fashioned. She could use a bit of gentlemanly.
"I mean, I can give you a bottle of champagne every day if you want," he jokes, but catches what he's saying. "Do you want that?"
"You watch yourself, I might take you up on that."
He laughs nervously, poor thing. She threads her fingers through his as they walk together, and his hand is sweaty and warm but it feels like it was made for hers anyways.
"So, where're we goin'?" She asks.
"Fort Washington Park," he says confidently, then backtracks immediately. "If you wanna! I mean, your pick, I didn't mean to…"
"Park sounds great," she chuckles. "Let's go."
The awesome thing about Usnavi staying is that he's staying. What she could do without is that pretty much every person on the block and their abuelas is just as happy about it as she is and they get stopped a thousand times before reaching the park. Everyone wants to greet Usnavi, slap him on the back and tell him how excited they are that he's staying. Vanessa wishes they'd get on with it, let her have this night with him, just the two of them, but the short walk drags on and on.
On the upside, everyone is seeing him on her arm. Take that, Yolanda! This one's mine. The more people are stopping them to hug him and chit-chat, the more Vanessa realizes how little she knows the barrio she's leaving. For every one of them, Usnavi notices her confused frown and as they walk away, he whispers some explanation in her ear. There's Julio who just got a new boyfriend, and Rosa who used to live with him and Abuela when she was having financial trouble a few years ago, and this guy who has a brother in prison no one talks about, this lady who had an affair but is reconnecting with her husband slowly because they decided to make it work, and this person, that one… There is no one Usnavi doesn't know personally. And to think he even considered leaving these people behind.
"This the park where me and Benny hung out all the time," he says awkwardly, filling the void he senses between them.
"I know," she smirks. "I also heard it's where you got your first…"
"So how about that champagne?!" He yelps in panic.
She snorts, but hands over the bottle he's given her.
"You open it?"
They find a nice quiet spot on the grass and for a warm summer night, the park is relatively empty. There's a breeze from the Hudson and Usnavi's hair is sticking up when he puts down his hat on the lawn next to him. She stretches her legs, feels the sun on them. It's cooler than it was the past few days. It feels nice.
"Lemme…"
He sticks out his tongue a little bit as he works on the bottle and she sees that his hands are a little bit shaky in his nerve, but she lets it slide. Surreptitiously, she scoots just ever so slightly closer to him when he's too busy to notice. A frown in his short frustration then the brightest smile as the cork pops. They watch it fly through the air until Usnavi jerks upright at once, champagne flowing onto his hands and legs.
"Dammit…"
She snorts and watches him pull the bottle to his lips as fast as he can, sipping the overflowing liquid, sheepishly handing it over once he's dealt with the mess. She takes the bottle and a sip − she's not that big on champagne to begin with, but a bet is a bet and she earned that bottle. They stare at each over as she puts it down between them and for the first time, maybe, Vanessa feels like their smiles are authentic. She feels like herself.
"Take some," she says hastily. Being herself is a frightening thing.
He gulps down some more − hopefully not too much, she wouldn't want him drunk − and sets it down again, leaning back, hands on the grass. He's wearing his old red chacabana that he's opened up, a thin tank top underneath. He's looking cute. Vanessa almost fears that Daniela will spring out of nowhere to make her own up to that thought, but she's starting to feel like she's allowed to think such things about him now. There's got to be some privileges once your tongue has been in someone's mouth. You're allowed to think good things. She realizes she's staring but he's looking straight ahead, suddenly serious.
"I'm… I'm really glad I'm staying."
That, she knows. And the whole block knows as well. But he's looking into her eyes now and she understands his meaning perfectly. She gulps. There is too much depth in those eyes.
"Me too." She reaches over, her hand covering his on the grass. "Me too."
They talk and maybe for the first time, she's learning more about the true Usnavi. Sure, she's known him all her life, part of the background that was Nina's life, their best friend in common. The bodega boy across her street when she came to visit Nina. She's talked to him before, and more and more the past few months. She did pick up on his charming awkwardness, and how kind he could be, but those were only clues and hints here and there and never before an actual, real, long conversation just the two of them. It feels nice. It feels more than nice.
They talk until the sun goes down and then some and he's just walking her home by the time she remembers that she's forgotten to kiss him. A mistake she's quick to fix.