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It’s just lunch, Felix reminds himself as he and Claude cross the street to Cosmic Café. His foot crushes an orange leaf on the crosswalk, but it escapes his notice; his mind is singularly preoccupied by the task before him.
The task is simple: he needs to ask Claude to go hiking with him. More specifically, the plan is to bring Claude to the diner, where they will have a meal, giving Felix the chance to make his request, and then they will leave. Easy.
A tiny shock runs through his system– ridiculous. They’ve had lunch together countless times before at the office, so there’s no reason why this time should be any different.
Unfortunate and unbidden, Annette’s voice sounds stubbornly in his head: “It’s a date!”
Felix thinks back to yesterday afternoon in the office, when she had leapt out of her chair, eyes sparkling in the way they did when she felt she had come across a particularly juicy piece of gossip.
“Not so loud,” Felix had hissed. His cubicle does not contain sound well at all, and the possibility of someone overhearing had filled him with dread. “And no, it’s not. I’m only asking him on a hike.”
Annette’s expression had told him that she hadn’t believed him even for a second. “But you bought a gift! Felix– it’s, a, date!”
He had shifted in his seat uncomfortably, “Well, he needs some incentive to go.” Annette had sighed, bestowing him with a look of pity.
Back to the present, Felix grips the handles of the two bags he’s carrying with him: one is his usual work bag containing his badge and wallet, and the other is an unassuming plastic bag whose top is sealed shut with decorative tape. That’s right; it’s not a gift, it’s motivation for Claude.
A bell chimes when Felix pushes the door open to the diner. He’s greeted by the aroma of cooking burgers and fries, but the familiar smells do little to calm the nerves that really shouldn’t be there, but it’s something.
“So, we’re not doing takeout?” Claude asks. His face pops back into Felix’s vision from his right.
“No. I– ” Annette’s words once again echo in his ears. He grimaces and has to look away from Claude. “—We always order from here but I thought it would be good to… show you the joint for once.” He gestures vaguely at their surroundings. Besides, a client had bought catering today, so the chances of anyone else coming here is slim.
Felix had just unwound his scarf when Byleth, the long-haired one, comes to greet him at the door. “Felix,” they nod, unclipping a pen from their apron. “Are you here to dine in or take out?”
Felix shoots them a look. “If I wanted takeout, I know the line is that way.” He tilts his head towards the cash register.
“True.” They click their pen twice. “It’s unusual for you to come at this hour is all. So.” Byleth blinks, seeming to finally register Claude’s presence. “A table for two. Right this way.”
A table for two.
Felix suppresses a shudder. He knows the phrase has implications, but it’s not what it looks like. Beside him, Claude’s lips are curled up at the corners, smiling like he’s privy to the nonsense going through Felix’s head– which, he doesn’t, Felix reminds himself. Looking like he’s planning to ruin someone’s day is his default state.
He deliberately ignores Claude’s scheming look in favor of staring at the back of Byleth’s head. They direct them to a cushy booth tucked by a big glass window near the back of the parlor.
“Make yourselves comfortable. My twin will be with you shortly.” With that, they’re gone with a spin of their heel, mint hair swishing behind them.
Claude looks on after them. “Interesting character.”
Felix agrees. “You should see them balancing five trays during rush hour.” Some part of him nags him to ask the question now that they’re seated, but Felix overrides the thought. Instead, he passes Claude a plastic-bound menu. “Here. Since this is in-house, we have more options here than on the app.”
“Thanks.” He takes it, still smiling. “So, do you come here often?”
A completely valid question, yet Felix freezes at the connotation, but he refuses to read into such a flippant comment.
Hunching over on the menu, Felix scowls in response. “Sometimes, after work.” He continues to stare holes into the laminated paper, though he already knows what he wants. Goddess, is he a fool.
He risks a glance up at his dining partner. Claude’s eyes move from side to side as he skims. An errant lock of dark, wavy hair falls over his cheek. It’s always there, and Felix has had the urge to comb it back for him more than once.
Claude hums. “Interesting, they have fish sandwiches here. With pickles.”
Felix knows something about that. “That’s a new dish. The Eisners have picked up fishing recently.”
This piques his interest. “The Eisners?”
Felix flushes when Claude unexpectedly makes eye contact. He fights it down. “The family that runs the shop: the Byleths and their dad, Jeralt. This isn’t a chain,” he says, purposefully keeping his response terse.
“Huh.” Claude flips to the back, facing the drinks menu. “It’s a nice place – very retro.” He waves his hand, indicating the classic red vinyl, silver accents, neon signage, and white tiling. “It’s almost a shame that I’ve only gotten food to go here.”
Felix shrugs. “If you like it, nothing is stopping you from coming back here on your own.”
“Maybe,” Claude flips the menu back open, weighing his options. “Do you have any recommendations?”
Felix shifts in his seat. “For fish?”
“Anything really. I’m feeling experimental today.”
He knows what Claude hasn’t tried and picks carefully, explaining his experience which each dish, if applicable. Claude nods along, listening with rapt attention.
As if by a sixth sense, the other Byleth, differentiable by the slightly narrower slant of their eyes and shorter-cropped hair, walks up to their table just as Claude makes his decision, pencil tucked behind their ear. Like their twin, they greet Felix before getting to work. Felix orders a bacon burger and Byleth scribbles it down, his unsaid request for extra bacon mutually acknowledged.
Then, Byleth turns to Claude.
“I’ll take the fried herring and cabbage sandwich,” Claude says, voice bright. There’s a pause as he deliberates further. “And a chocolate milkshake.”
Byleth makes a note. “Would you like a cherry and whipped cream on that?”
“Yes to both.”
Byleth nods, marking their table number with a few quick scratches. “Your order will be ready shortly.” Instead of just leaving, however, Byleth takes a second to linger. “By the way, Felix, this is unusual for you – ”
Oh no.
Felix grits his teeth. Not this again. “Yeah?”
“ – this is pretty early – ”
“I know, I heard from your sibling.”
“ – not to mention you usually come alone.”
Felixs thinks that if steam could come out of his ears, it would. “Can you just –!” He waves, at a loss for words. “I don’t know, do your job?”
If Byleth could emote more, they would look sheepish. Nonetheless, they do as they are asked. When Felix turns around, Claude is snickering into his palm.
“What?” Felix snaps.
“You’re so…” Claude’s shoulders are still shaking. “Your face.”
Felix does not need to touch it to feel the warmth radiating from his face. Why is it that the one day when he needs things to go right for him, they decidedly do not?
Claude struggles to collect himself. “Sorry, sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Felix accuses, glaring at him. He won’t be played like this.
At that, Claude grins in a way that brightens his whole face, causing even the emeralds of his eyes to dance. The sight can only be called attractive. “You’re right.” He tips his head to the side, and the natural light from outside highlights the angle of his jaw, follows the curved slant of his nose, and causes his single earring to catch light. “I’m not.”
A short silence follows, broken only when it dawns on Felix that he’s staring. Suddenly feeling awkward, he coughs and turns to the side. It’s warm in here.
He finds that he has yet to remove his scarf and coat, so he shrugs both off. He loosens his tie, too, for a good measure, letting his warming neck be cooled by the slightly cooler air of the restaurant. He folds his outerwear neatly and places them on top of the two bags he had brought with him, both of which are currently sitting propped up against the glass.
Felix slows in his motions when his eyes land on the plastic gift bag. There’s nothing stopping him from asking now, right? Or maybe he should bring it up gradually, easing the topic into the conversation?
Felix frowns. He’s known for being direct; scheming is Claude’s specialty, if he can even call this a scheme. He just needs to make a stupid request. Just one.
Silently, he feels for the words with his tongue: Hey, I’m going hiking in the woods an hour north of here sometime this weekend. You can come along if you want.
It is a measly two sentences, so why do the words continually get stuck in the lock of his jaw?
Felix swallows, turning his attention back to Claude, who seems to be checking emails on his phone. Good, that takes the pressure off some – he will get this over with.
Felix wipes his palms on his dress pants, clearing his throat. Claude looks up, eyes widening just a bit when their eyes meet –
Only to have the connection broken when Byleth’s tray descends between them. Felix lets out a deep exhale.
“One water and one chocolate milkshake with a cherry and whipped cream,” they announce, totally oblivious to the fact that they had just crumbled Felix’s resolve. They set down both glasses with a clink. “Enjoy.”
Well, so much for that.
Felix chugs half of his water, still reeling from the rush of anticipation built up from mere seconds ago. Across from him, Claude takes his time with the milkshake, swirling it with his straw. “Nice,” he says, his voice drawing Felix’s gaze towards him.
That’s the only warning Felix gets before he sees Claude’s lips wrap around the bright red Mascherano cherry, detaching the fruit from the stem with a light suck.
Felix nearly drops his glass. He catches it, but the blunder isn’t without consequence: about a tablespoon sloshes over the rim, landing on the seat. Cursing internally, Felix prays that he didn’t notice.
Luckily, there’s no indication that he did. “No pit,” Claude comments nonchalantly, a stark contrast from the horrible stuttering happening in Felix’s chest cavity. He twirls the stem by rolling it between his fingers. “Did you know,” he adds, regarding Felix through his naturally-upturned lashes, “that some people can knot cherry stems with their tongue?”
“Sounds fake,” Felix grumbles.
“But it’s true,” he says. “I can show you – my tongue is talented in more ways than one.”
Claude is known for his silver tongue of course, but Felix can’t help that his mind drifts to… other things. Felix’s mouth shuts, teeth clacking with the force as he channels his thoughts elsewhere. It’s unfair how a few casually-chosen words from Claude instantly breaks his composure. It’s like Claude is intentionally messing with him.
Felix considers this. Could he be? That is something he would do, but he has no way of knowing what this meeting is for, outside of lunch, of course.
Felix stops thinking about it when Claude takes the stem into his mouth. His lips stay sealed as his mouth works in ways Felix had never seen, and he can only watch on with morbid fascination. A few seconds later, the stem reappears from between his lips, and sure enough, there’s a knot at the dead center of it.
Felix leans forward to get a better look – he has to say, he’s impressed.
“Neat party trick, don’t you think?”
“I guess,” Felix begrudgingly admits. “My mouth hurts just from watching that.”
“It’s not that hard.” Claude props his chin up on interlaced hands. “I could even teach you how.”
Much to his own frustration, Felix feels his face flush again. “How?”
“We’d figure it out.” Claude’s expression is infuriatingly neutral as he says this, whereas Felix is mentally bending over backwards to process what on earth that means.
He has the urge to retort with something, but settles with a shake of his head. “Okay, whatever… just drink your shake or something,” he mumbles somewhat belatedly. Brooding, he watches as Claude shrugs, using the long spoon provided to scoop the whipped cream into his mouth. Does he really want to bring this man hiking, putting them in a situation where they’d be left alone on a trail for hours?
Unfortunately, the answer to that question is still “yes”.
Huffing out a sigh, Felix watches the lunch crowd bustle by, clutching onto boxes of green and grease-spotted paper bags as they go along their day. He knows he should probably say something like he normally would, but his mind is completely empty.
Meanwhile, Claude is calm as ever as he takes a sip of his drink at last. His brows go up. “Oh. Hm, this is pretty good.” He tilts the glass towards Felix. “You should try.”
His eyes zero in on the shake being offered to him, “No.”
Claude doesn’t budge. “You won’t know if you like it if you don’t try it,” he chides.
“No, that’s not it.” Felix eyes the straw resting innocently at the bottom of the cup – the straw that Claude just used. “There’s only one straw.”
Claude looks at him, puzzled. “So?”
Does he have to spell it out? “We’d be sharing.” Felix says.
At Felix’s response, Claude actually rolls his eyes. “I didn’t realize you were still afraid of cooties, Felix. But if you want, you could always drink for the side of the cup – ”
Felix plucks the drink out of Claude’s hand. He’s not a coward. “You know what? Fuck you.” Sliding the plastic tube into his mouth, he gives it a healthy suck –
And regrets it immediately.
“Fuck,” Felix says, wiping his mouth with a napkin after swallowing the mouthful down with more than a little difficulty. “I forgot that I hate sweet things.”
Claude is once again shaking with laughter. It occurs to Felix that this is the most he has seen Claude laugh in a long time. The sound stirs butterflies in his chest, and it almost makes up for the fact that his amusement is completely at Felix’s expense. Almost.
“That’s what I thought,” Claude says, laughter winding down. “But you really took it.”
“Shut up,” Felix hisses, but he’s mostly exasperated at himself for somehow managing to forget his own dislike for sweets.
There’s a moment of quiet as Claude takes another long, bemused draw from his drink. Felix is unsure of what to do with his hands. He resists the urge to check his email. At a loss with himself, he glares at their view of the sidewalk once more.
“...earth to Felix,” Claude says from his side of the table. His tone shifts to something more serious for the first time this outing. “Does work have you down?”
“Work is fine,” Felix mutters to the asphalt outside. “I’m just waiting for Ingrid to get back to me with her edits.” Now if his hands could stop sweating, that’d be fantastic.
Claude nods, sympathetic, “At least we’ve been able to breathe easier after earnings.” And just like that, the traces of seriousness evaporate from his tone. “It’s about time that we all had some fun, don’t you think?”
Felix scoffs. “Your idea of fun is hitting up the most expensive restaurant in town on the company dime.”
He’s met with a toothy grin. “You’re not wrong – you know how I feel about feasts with friends. But I know other ways to have fun, too.”
This gives Felix pause. He counts to three, taking a moment to stare at some crumbs left on the table by the customers before them. “Like… what?”
Claude leans forward, propping himself on his elbows. “Oh, you know.”
Felix frowns at him, but before Felix can say anything back, their food comes into view. Byleth’s voice sounds above them. “A bacon burger with extra bacon and a fried herring sandwich. They set everything down, casually as ever. “You two seem to be getting along. The fries are on the house.”
Felix just nods as Byleth moves a bottle of ketchup to the center of the table. Claude, on the other hand, offers Byleth a grin, which is returned with their usual blank stare. “Thank you.”
Byleth dips their head deferentially and backs up a step. Instead of tending to their next order, though, they surprise Felix by turning directly towards Claude. “Felix has been a good friend to our family since we opened our restaurant.”
Claude registers this. “That’s good to know.”
“Hey, I’m right here.” Felix jams a fry into a puddle of ketchup, resigned. He wishes the Byleths did not choose today of all days to be so... nosy.
Byleth doesn’t acknowledge his comment, continuing to stare intently at Claude. “We’re glad to see that he’s found a friend in you.” A threatening pause. “That said, if you do anything, you can guarantee that you will never see a sandwich from our store again.”
Something clicks for Claude. Curiously, his eyes soften a fraction, though his mouth is still in his signature coy smile when he replies. “Not to worry, Felix is in good hands.”
Felix thinks that he sees a fleeting, rare grin on Byleth’s face before it goes back to stone neutral. Satisfied, Byleth leaves them. That was a strange conversation, to say the least.
Claude pays it no mind, however– his attention is on the food as he appraises it in all its deep-fried glory. “This looks good. Let’s eat!”
Felix doesn’t need to be told twice. Even with his stomach flipping somersaults over itself, the way the bacon peeks out tantalizingly from under its lightly toasted bun beckons him. As he brings the burger to his lips, however, Felix’s eyes drift up to watch Claude’s face.
Claude makes a sound of approval. “They never fail to impress,” he says before digging in with gusto. Somehow feeling relieved by his positive reaction, Felix works on his own plate. The meal is a crunchy and messy affair, not giving either of them much opportunity to talk even as the topic of the question tugs insistently at Felix’s mind once again. The meal is drawing to a close, and which means that he’s running out of time.
As Felix pops the last bits of crumbled bacon into his mouth, he strongly considers simply texting his request to Claude after this– if he texts, he can’t possibly botch the delivery. Besides, his fingers are greasy and smell like fast food now, which is probably rude when delivering gifts. He figures that he could always give it to him before the hike– if he accepts the proposal, that is.
A resounding ping from his jacket pocket makes the decision for him. Hastily wringing a napkin around his fingers to rid them of any lasting grease, he pulls out his phone. A banner notification alerts him that Ingrid has gotten back to him on the latest round of edits. He texts in short sentences; he promises to be in the office soon.
“I’ll pay,” Felix says gruffly, fishing his credit card from his wallet. It’s really all for show– the company pays their meal expenses on the clock, after all, but it’s the least Felix can do for dragging Claude all the way out here.
Claude is still working on his food, but swallows it down as Felix stands. He watches as Felix scans the sea of heads for a waiter. “Are you sure we can’t sit back a bit, wait for the food to digest? I like it here.”
Felix doesn’t waver in his search, catching the eye of long-hair Byleth. “The edits are done, so the ball is in my court now. We’re trying to get this press release out by five.” Byleth arrives, plucking Felix’s card from his hand before going off to process the check. Felix sits back down and starts to put on his coat.
But Claude stops him. “But Felix,” he says, leaning across the tabletop. Felix feels his finger under his chin, tilting his head up so that he’s forced to look Claude in the eye. Immediately, Felix’s heartbeat thunders anew in his chest, in his ears, and he hears his breath catch.
Naturally, he bats his hand away.
Claude is undeterred, maintaining a close distance from across the table. His eyes glint with mirth and mischief, the face he wears when he knows he’s reached checkmate.
Felix swallows dryly.
“But Felix,” Claude repeats, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind the reddened shell of his ear. “Don’t you have something to ask me?”
What?
Felix jerks away in an instant, propelling himself backwards against the cushion behind him. His knee crashes up against the bottom side of the table with a bang, rattling the plates and silverware resting on top. The stinging in his kneecap is completely sidelined by his surprise as he blinks at Claude, awaiting an explanation. “Who told you?”
Claude gives him a smug, knowing look, completely unfazed. “No one, at least not directly. You’re not exactly subtle, you know. Neither is Annette.”
He takes a moment to process that before covering his face, sighing. “Great,” Felix finally wrangles out. He barely notices it when Byleth slips the folder with his credit card back on the table. Claude still has that unbearably smug grin on his face as he regards Felix’s suffering, but doesn’t say more. “Since you already know, is there really a point in me asking?”
Claude shakes his head. “I want to hear it from the source. Just to make sure.”
What a dick.
“Fine.” He aims to sound annoyed, but his voice is far too tight to fit even an ounce of vitriol. He sits up straighter, though he lowers his head in a pathetic attempt to shelter his beet-red face. His pulse quickens again as he scrambles to find the words. “Do you…”
Claude leans forward expectantly. Felix’s heart hammers impossibly harder. He hates being open like this, with what he wants, he realizes. But he’s made this far, and he’s going to see it through.
“… do you want to go hiking with me? This weekend,” he finishes, the last few words leaving him in a rush.
A heavy pause hangs in the air. It’s Claude’s turn to look shocked, his irises shrinking on the whites and his mouth opening slightly. Felix’s fingers tighten around themselves, looking away once more as he focuses on the sting of his fingernails digging into his palms. That’s not the reaction he was hoping for.
“…That’s it?” Claude asks, incredulous.
Felix tenses. “Isn’t that what Annette told you?”
“I just figured, that since you’re doing all this…” Claude shakes his head. “Nevermind.” For a moment, he actually seems a little uncomfortable. Apologetic, even.
Felix stares stubbornly at the metal-rimmed edge of their shared table. Inside him, hot anger at himself quickly wells up to replace his self-induced humiliation. “Whatever.” He moves briskly, buttoning up his jacket and reaches for his scarf –
“Wait –”
“No.” He doesn’t need to hear it.
“No, Felix, wait.” Claude reaches for Felix’s wrist, stopping him from doing his top coat button. The touch burns. “Sorry, I meant to say ‘yes’.”
Felix freezes. Hope bubbles within him and he dares himself a peek sideways. Claude is still there, real, leaning forward, and accepting. He wears an expression that is still a touch amused, but most of all, unusually kind.
“You’ll go?” Felix asks. He hates how hopeful he sounds.
Claude huffs out a laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he does so. The sight takes Felix’s breath away. “Yeah, I’ll go hiking with you. Is this for the whole weekend, or?”
“You can pick the day,” Felix says. His voice regains its characteristic strength and terseness, but inside, he’s soaring. He pulls his hand away from Claude’s grasp, though the spot on his wrist is still warm where they made contact. “It’s a place I’m familiar with, so I can drive us there. There’s a lot of wildlife: birds, deer, whatever. And some detours, if you like that kind of thing.”
“As a matter of fact, I do like that kind of thing,” Claude says. “Thanks for inviting me.”
Felix shrugs, but he can’t hide the smile fighting its way onto his face. “Sure. I was going to go, anyway.” He suddenly remembers – the gift. “Wait.” He lifts the white gift bag onto the table and pushes it in Claude’s direction. “This is for you.”
Claude points at himself. “For me?”
“I didn’t say otherwise.” Felix wrinkles his nose at him and crosses his arms. “Just open it.”
“Well I do like gifts.” With that, he peels off the tape keeping the top closed, reaching in to pull out a yellow, patterned scarf with tassels at both ends. “Aww, this is nice.”
He seems fascinated, and Felix is secretly pleased when he watches Claude unfold it to feel the material between his fingers. He knows that it’s both warm and soft – he picked it out at the department store himself after collecting several recommendations from the clerks and reviews online. “The forest can get chilly, so you can use it for the hike. And, that means you can stop using mine, come winter.” He drapes his own scarf around his shoulders to make a point. He stands. “We’ve been here long enough. Let’s leave.”
Claude follows him out, falling in step beside him as they both exit the diner. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” he says. He trails off as they stop to join the mob of people waiting for the crosswalk to turn green. The people around them bustle and nudge, each trying to get an inch closer to the edge of the curb, nudging Claude and Felix closer and closer together. From the corner of his eye, Felix spots, then feels, Claude’s fingers brush against his.
He doesn’t move away.
Their fingers intertwine, their palms resting against each other, warm in the spaces between them in spite of the surrounding autumn chill.
Claude speaks up again. “But have you considered – ” Felix feels the material of his scarf slide against his neck. He turns towards the source of the movement, which happens to be Claude’s free hand pulling on his scarf to fit it onto his shoulders instead of Felix’s. “ – that I like using yours?”
The light turns green, and Felix loses the chance to grab it back; but even if he could, he’s not sure if he would. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And so are you,” Claude replies. “We make quite the pair, don’t you think?”
Felix answers him with a quirk of his lips and an eyeroll. “Maybe.” He walks faster, pulling on their joined hands. “Come on– my press release won’t write itself.”
They hold hands the rest of the walk back, letting go only when they hear the ping of the elevator reaching their floor.
Claude stops him before they part ways. “I enjoyed lunch, by the way. Would you be open to doing that again, or– ” He winks. “– is that only for when you have hikes to ask me on?”
Felix considers it. “We can go again.” He thinks about the trail they’re going on this weekend and of showing him all the nooks and crannies he and Glenn had discovered as kids. He hopes that Claude will like the waterfall at the end, too. “We can go wherever you want.”