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More sweat than usual beads down Xander’s furrowed brow in the summer heat. His gaze is fixed in consternation on his cellphone as his fingers manipulate the Google map, zooming and rotating it around with intense concentration. Laslow can only fidget in place beside him, dripping more from nerves than anything else, as the sun beats down on the pair relentlessly.
“Damn construction,” Xander mutters to himself before regarding Laslow with an apologetic smile. “From what I can discern, all the roads leading to the bistro are cut-off. In this heat, it might be advisable--”
“I’ll walk; I don’t mind, really!” Laslow rushes to reassure; no matter how cute the blush on Xander’s face is, barely discernible from the heat flush, Laslow can’t stand to see Xander embarrassed. Every outing thus far has been meticulously planned and timed perfectly, an itinerary all but printed out onto paper. “Surely it’s not too far?”
Xander glances at his car, expertly parallel parked upon encountering the third closed-off street. The potholes and the shoddy asphalt have been a staple of an otherwise posh area for years, but downtown construction tends to be contemptible like that, and just as unpredictable.
“If you’re certain, Laslow,” Xander allows, though uneasy. He leads the way down quiet streets, abandoned as if it were on the cusp of twilight, rather than midday and broad daylight. Laslow follows just a pace behind, taking reprieve in Xander’s shadow. No dialogue flows between them so Xander can focus on navigating, leaving Laslow to his thoughts.
They stop at a crosswalk intersection, chain link fences and safety cones corralling the pair insistently left, but the map implies they should go right. Xander rotates his entire phone, trying to get a better understanding of the area, but he’s left to give a resigned sigh as it auto-rotates back to its starting position. “I must apologize; I wouldn’t have ventured out here if I had known we’d be sweating like dogs in the heat, lost.”
“I don’t mind,” Laslow replies, distracted. The crosswalk beeps incessantly, a timer that never runs out of sand and a metronome to parse out Laslow’s thoughts. 'Just ask. What’s to lose? Go for it? Do it. Do it! Laslow. Do it. Laslow. Laslow!'
“Laslow?” The man in question startles, and he returns his attention to Xander with a sheepish smile. “The heat’s not getting to you, is it? If I knew we’d be out in the sun this long, I would’ve thought to bring sunscreen. But fear not; I believe our destination is just ahead.”
Laslow nods, but he doesn’t move, even when Xander’s back turns to him, walking away. The crosswalk and his heartbeat thrum in his ears, drowning out the distant cawing of birds and Xander’s footsteps. He reaches out, fingertips grazing against Xander’s wrists, and Xander interwines their fingers as he turns back to regard Laslow. This only flusters Laslow further; his heartbeat is now roaring in his chest, blush ablaze. “Xan-Xander, will, would you consider attending my next recital?!”
He smiles, but the confusion is palpable in the creases of Xander’s face. “I’ve already purchased a ticket, but that may have been presumptuous of me. I had assumed as your boyfriend--”
“B-B-Boyfriend,” Laslow cries, clasping Xander’s hand in both of his, “I’m your my boyfriend, truly, Xander?”
Xander blinks.The furrows in his brow become canyons, mouth a thin line as he tries to pick apart Laslow’s reaction after the initial shock wanes. “Ah, another presumption of mine, I see… I apologize, Laslow; please allow me to correct myself.” Xander takes a knee, lips to the top of Laslow’s hand for a chaste kiss in the privacy of broad daylight. Laslow finds it incredibly embarrassing, even as he swoons. “Laslow, would you please consider being my boyfriend?”
“Of course; the honor would be mine,” Laslow confesses; he reclaims a hand to rub away a stray tear or two. His smile is warm, bright enough to outshine the sun.
Xander stands, and for a moment he marvels at Laslow’s strength, despite his compact size, to be able to support his ascension without stumbling back. His smile is more reserved, but no less happy, “And it would be my pleasure to attend your recital; any and all of your shows, I’ll gladly attend.”
“Oh, surely that won’t be necessary. Your work keeps you so busy, and I’d hate for you to--”
Xander laughs, a rich sound that overtakes the crosswalk’s chiming, “Nonsense, I always have time for my boyfriend’s dance career. You can count on me, front and center, to see your performances.”
“Alright, then I will,” Laslow says, and he leans his face against Xander’s arm as they walk the rest of the way to the bistro.