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Blake isn’t panicking. He’s not, really; it’s more like strongly stressing about what the hell he’s going to do. That’s different from panicking.
Dinner is too simple, they eat all the time, there’s nothing special about it. Come to think of it, they’ve pretty much done everything together already, so how in the hell is Blake supposed to make his first date with Adam special? He’s looked for ideas everywhere, and everything is either too cheesy or too hard and not right. Besides, it’s not like they have a lot of options; Blake would love to see the mob that would follow them if they went to the pier or someplace in the valley. The idea was hysterical.
He strongly stresses out for a few days, constantly reassuring Adam that “I have a plan, don’t worry”, but the stress moves into definite panic mode when the day hits. He showers, shaves, gets dressed, and finally picks up the phone and calls Adam.
“I don’t have a plan.”
There’s silence on the other end for a second, followed by laughter and Blake can’t help but feel indignant on top of his embarrassment.
“Way to kick a man when he’s down jackass, why are you laughing?!”
“Because,” Adam manages to get out between his chuckles. “You’re so unbelievably cute when you’re trying to impress me.”
Blake huffs, “I wasn’t trying to impress you…”
“Save it cowboy,” Adam laughs again and Blake can almost see the smirk on his face. “Listen, just come to my place at 7, it’s fine.”
“Okay.” Blake says, hesitates, then adds “I’m really sorry Adam. I just…wanted everything to be perfect.”
“You worry too much,” Adam replies. “See you later.”
They hang up and Blake falls backwards on his bed, forgetting that his shirt wrinkles easily.
***
He’s ready to eat humble pie when he shows up at Adam’s place that night. Some elaborate, amazing date that he’s had planned just in case Blake dropped the ball. He isn’t expecting Adam dressed really simply in jeans and a white t-shirt (Blake’s favorite, if he’s honest), with burgers and fries waiting on the table. He’s so confused he also doesn’t expect the kiss Adam gives him, parting his lips with his tongue, tasting him, making his head spin he only just manages to kiss back.
“You’re so dumb,” Adam says, pulling away at last.
“Oh good, dirty talk already.”
“I mean it!” Adam leads him into the dining room, the lighting and view from outside casting a relatively romantic glow as they sit down to their private dinner. “You stressed out about this date so much when really all I care about is that it actually is a date. We’re doing this!”
And Blake finally gets it. “So as long as this happens, you don’t care what happens?”
“Oh I care what happens, I have a number of ideas about what’s going to happen tonight,” Adam smiles mischievously. “But it doesn’t have to be perfect. Let’s face it,” he says, grabbing Blake’s hand. “We’re about as far from perfect as we can be.”
Blake strokes Adam’s hand with his thumb, admitting that this statement was very true. Years of denial and secrecy did not a perfect relationship make, even now that they’d come together. Adam smiles at him, grabbing a fry from his plate, puts one end in Blake’s mouth, and eats the other half himself, letting their lips meet in the middle, the taste salty and so, so sweet.