Work Text:
“Oooh,” Peter says, leaning over Bob’s shoulder to look at his Tinder. “That guy was hot. Are you gonna swipe right on him?”
“Uhm, no, not my type,” Bob says, sounding a little confused. “Was he…your type, Pete?”
“Oh, you know,” Peter says, also getting confused now because Bob’s tone of voice sounds weird. “If I was into men, yeah, sure. Why not? I mean, wouldn’t he be everybody’s type? Look at those shoulders, wow. And the pecs, the muscle definition - he definitely works out a lot. Hey, can you swipe right on him so I can ask him about his workout routine? Or like, at least take a screenshot as motivation for me?”
“Sure,” Bob says, giving Peter a strange look, and does as he’s told. It’s not a match, and Peter is weirdly put out by that.
“Maybe I should also set my profile so that I can see men, too,” he muses. Purely out of curiosity of course. What else would it be?
“You do that, Pete,” Bob says, and now he definitely sounds amused. “You do that.”
*
“Okay, so, fuck, marry, kill,” Peter says, taking a swig of his beer which he and the others have surreptitiously taken from the fridge. “Let me think, hm. Okay, okay, Cotta, Hugenay, and, hm. Sax Sendler.”
“What,” Justus says.
“Oh man, now I gotta kill my boss,” Bob says. “Cause, you know, he’s a great boss and all, but Cotta just has that energy.”
“Oooh, yes,” Peter says. “I know exactly what you mean. It’s the authority, right? And I mean, we can’t kill Hugenay, he’s so hot.”
“What,” Justus says again, looking for once like he’s not gonna offer his opinion.
“And those suits he always wears, damn,” Peter continues blithely. “He smells great, too, have you guys ever noticed that?”
“Sure have,” Bob says with a strange smile. He and Justus share a look that Peter can’t really interpret. He supposes it also doesn’t really matter, still distantly thinking about the bespoke suits Hugenay wears, how they cling perfectly to every lithe inch of his body.
“Okay, so kill Sax, and then. Hm. Fuck Hugenay, and marry Cotta,” Peter says. “Your turn, Justus.”
Justus just sighs.
*
“Why do you have Grindr on your phone?” Kelly asks, somewhere between amused and alarmed, staring at Peter’s homescreen. They’re getting dinner with her new boyfriend who Peter knows from the soccer team, and Daniel has just excused himself to go to the bathroom.
“To meet guys,” Peter says, “platonically. Just like you.”
“I created that profile as a joke,” Kelly says annoyedly. “I haven’t even looked at it in months.”
“Oh,” Peter says. “Well, I just. You know! Wanted to expand my social circle? A lot of guys on there are really into CrossFit and stuff, and I’ve been looking for someone to do that with me.”
Kelly lifts an incredibly judgmental eyebrow. “And? Any luck?”
“Yes, I mean, it was a – rocky start.” Peter feels the blush creep onto his cheeks, thinking back to the numerous dick pics he got at the start. Some of them had even been tastefully done, he guessed, with good lighting angles. It had not been – well, it had been –
“Oh, Peter,” is the only thing Kelly offers in response to that. She changes the topic after that, and Peter is glad. He hasn’t been doing anything, but now she has managed to make him feel strange about it.
He pushes the thought aside.
*
“So, what do you do in your free time?” Eve asks, closing the menu and putting it on the table to focus her attention entirely on Peter. It’s a little awkward, like most Tinder dates are at first, but Peter is trying his best. She’s very cute, and, with her long blonde hair, exactly his type, so he doesn’t want to screw this up.
Just when he is about to answer, talk about football or the detective agency, the waiter comes back to interrupt and ask whether they’d already like a free refill. His name tag says Diego; he’s tall, Peter notices, fit, with his long dark hair up in a haphazard bun. A few strands have escaped the hair tie, curling around his face. It looks very good, Peter thinks. Very good indeed, so much so that he’s not sure how to react to that realization.
Mutely, Peter hands over his empty coke glass, watching Diego’s big hand curl around it.
After he’s finished, the guy also refills Eve’s glass, winking at her while he does it, and she blushes, giggling. Peter is a little taken aback by the absolute gall a waiter must have to hit on a girl who’s so obviously on a date. He’s just about to say something, maybe, or give the guy a warning look at least when the waiter turns and gives Peter a once-over that feels decidedly sleazy. Then he also winks at him before leaving them both in dumbfounded silence.
The date doesn’t go that well after that, unsurprisingly, especially since Diego, as their waiter, comes back a lot to check up on them and uses the chance to flirt outrageously with both of them. Peter thinks he has never blushed this hard before. To top it all off, Diego slides a note with his number written on it in with the bill that he hands to Peter at the end of the meal.
What even, Peter thinks, trying to ignore the weird flutter in his stomach at the discovery. The guy must have misunderstood something, although Peter’s not sure how he managed that, what with Peter literally being on a date with a girl.
He still pockets the number and tries hard not to think about why.
*
“Why does this keep happening?” Peter whines, leaning against the closet door from the inside. “I’m never playing Seven Minutes in Heaven again. I get stuck with you every time!”
“Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something,” Jeffrey says drily, checking his phone.
“What could the universe be possibly trying to tell me?” Peter asks.
That gets Jeffrey to look up, smirking at Peter. “Man, if you’re that clueless, I ain’t gonna tell you.”
Peter blows a raspberry. “Why do you always have to be so cryptic?”
“I can also be explicit,” Jeffrey says, and before Peter knows what’s happening he has pulled him into a long, drawn-out kiss that Peter finds himself reciprocating after the initial shock has worn off. His shoulders are nice and wide under Peter’s hands, and Peter’s a little dizzy with how good everything feels.
“Fuck,” Peter says after they separate, trembling on the precipice of understanding.
“Not right now, we only have four minutes left,” Jeffrey says, but it’s clear now that he’s just teasing. Peter can still taste Jeffrey on his tongue, and it’s doing incredible things to his insides, but mostly to his dick.
“I’d make a closet joke, but that feels like low-hanging fruit,” Jeffrey says, and Peter elbows him none too gently.
The gears in his head start turning.
*
“Guys, meet Alex,” Peter says nervously, watching Bob’s and Justus’ facial expression closely. It’s clear they’re trying to keep a neutral face, but he can see a glimmer of something lurking in the corner of Bob’s mouth.
“Hey, great to meet you guys,” Alex says, shaking first Bob’s and then Justus’ hand.
“He’s –“
“Your platonic workout partner?” Bob teases.
Peter flips him off.
“A guy you found on Grindr just for fitness tips?” Justus asks, dead-pan, in a rare moment of unbelievable sass.
Alex just laughs and takes Peter’s hand. “Something like that.”