Chapter Text
Bo looks me over one more time, green eyes trailing my clothes, I feel exposed.
“God, I hope you don’t.” He signs, running a hand down the side of his face, stopping to stroke his stubble. “Look he really likes you.”
“I know, I really like him too.”
“Yes yes, I know. But all of the other people I’ve set Lamarr up with haven’t been... the best match, I don’t want to hurt him again. This is my last chance!”
I roll my eyes, he’s overreacting, again. “I get it!”
“There better be a wedding, I’m telling you!” Bo’s playing around but I can hear a hint of sincerity slipping through.
“I promise you. It’ll be in the spring, church bells and a soft piano-“
“Oh do shut it.”
“Oh no no no, there is a problem.”
“You’re going to be late.”
I start walking backwards, regretting it as soon as I feel the wall at my back. “Oof-... the... the problem is, who’s best man will you be?”
“Get out!”
“Love you too, by darling!”
“Go!”
The door shuts behind me and I take a second to smooth out my shirt and pants, slipping my jacket off and folding it over my arm. I make my way down the creaky wooden stairs and onto the ground floor of the building and finally, out onto the kerb. I let out a shaky breath, fixing my tie for what must be the millionth time in the past half hour and bounce on my feet, waiting for my cab.
I hear someone yell behind me, probably just some drunk guy.
A can crashes into the back of my head, I stumble forward. “What the he-“
“Oi! Georgie, I was talking to you!” I look up, Half of Bo’s body is draped over our windowsill like a towel. He waves his watch at me, “You’re meant to pick him up in less than five minutes! You’re going to be late!”
“What?!” I scramble to look at my watch, 7:56, he’s right.
“Run!”
“Fuck fuck fuck, wait, no!”
“It’s only two streets over!”
“On a busy fricking night in the middle of the goddamn city!”
“Yeah, busy, your cabs not coming!”
“He’s going to hate me!”
“Be quiet and go already!”
I pout at him, I don’t want to run, I’ll get all sweaty and I’ll be gross and I’ll turn up on his doorstep without a ride and it’ll be bad and he’ll hate and he’ll never agree on another da-
“Why the hell are you standing there?! Go!” I don’t have time to think of what may be I just start running, slipping through the wandering crowds and skipping across frozen streets, hoping the cars don’t start up when I run in front of them.
A horn blasts from behind me. “GET OFF THE RODE YOU BLOODY BOGAN!”
I send him an apologetic look and a shallow nod, “Sorry! I’m late for a date!”
“WELL I FEEL SORRY FOR YOUR LADY THEN!”
ah.
Turning away I push it out of my mind, one more street to cross a few blocks to pass and I’ll be at his door.
My pace has slowed but I keep pushing already feeling he burning in my calves, I’m not fit... I don’t want to think of what my shirt probably looks like right now. More crowds, more time, more cars, more houses, people staring, more trash cans, dogs, children, wow, so many children.. why? it’s like... late?
And I’m finally at his door, I grip onto my knees drawing in ragged breaths, hoping that the dessert in my throat will dissolve. I clear my throat a couple hundred times before buzzing up.
His voice comes over the crappy speaker. “Hel- is this o- yep okay, sorry, hi!”
I let out a chuckle, “Uh sorry, it’s me. George?”
“Yes! Of course, come right up, I’ll be ready soon!” I hear a buzz and his voice cuts off. I check my watch before opening the door, 8:04. I don’t think he minded me being a few minutes late.
His apartment building is more lavish than ours, tile floors in the lobby, sofas set off in one corner, an elevator turned off for the night laying dormant in its station. Great. I get to take the stairs. More exercise!
I shake myself out of my thoughts and start up the stairs, taking two at a time. I soon reach the third floor, sweating and more out of breath than I should be. I regain my breath, pulling my tie down slightly to try and quell the choking feeling and slip on my jacket hoping to cover up any sweat circles on my shirt.
I straighten up (‘straighten’ my gay ass) and knock on the door. Footsteps, more than one person rush towards the door, stalling slightly before one pair continues on. The door swings open and there he is.
Silver hair sitting above his dark brown eyes, his deep brown skin hugged by a navy suit, no tie. He smiles, pushing his hair back.
“Hi!” He smiles at me, pushing a slightly-shaky hand through his hair.
“Hey.” I feel my shoulders relax, this already feels so comfortable, but also so so nerve wracking. I realise I’ve been staring at him too long. I snap my eyes to his, a small blush graces his cheeks and I wonder if he caught my gaze. “Uh- shall we go?”
“Yes, yes of course!”
I smile, the way he just... talks it’s so endearing, he sounds like he genuinely enjoys every moment he is living, he’s dashing.
“Oh, wait.” He pulls me out of my thoughts. “Your ties crooked.”
Before I can go to fix it, his hand reach up, pulling on my tie and bringing it closer against my throat, he doesn’t pull before sticking his fingers between my collar and throat, checking if it’s too tight.
“Okay. Um, that’s good. Let’s go!” I strain to keep my voice steady, hoping he didn’t catch how nervous I am. He smiles, pulling the door shut, I get a glimpse of a young girl sitting on a bar stool waving goodbye to us. I nod to her, giving her the best smile I can before she’s completely blocked. I feel his hand rest on my elbow, “Shall we?”
“We shall.” He grins and gestures for me to lead the way.
To my surprise, I’m not as nervous as I thought I would be.