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“You know what I’d rather do?” Rhys says from his position, lying belly-down on the couch.
“What’s that?” Vaughn replies, fixing his bowtie in the mirror.
“Sit here. On the couch.”
“You can sit on the couch after we go to dinner.”
“Uuuuugh.”
“You’re such a baby. C’mon, I’m paying anyway. How’s the suit fit?”
Rhys grudgingly gets off the couch with an extravagant sigh, wiping down the front of the black suit he’s got on. There’s no hole cut in the front so Rhys’ robotic hand shows but not the full extent of his arm, and he looks… strangely monochromatic. Vaughn’s so used to seeing him decked out in a whole array of colors, but he really looks good in the black. Except his tie is crooked.
“Come here.”
Rhys closes the distance between them and Vaughn reaches out for his tie, a red one just like the one he usually wears, just not as long. Vaughn straightens it out for him, reaching up on his toes a bit.
“God, where did you learn to tie these?”
“I didn’t. I just kind of shove them down my pants and hope it looks good,” Rhys says with a smile, bending down to nuzzle the top of Vaughn’s head. “Does it?”
“Yeah, it does,” Vaughn says quietly, sighing when Rhys goes to run the fingers of both hands through his hair, pressing into his scalp.
“Mhm, thought so.” He keeps up with his hands until Vaughn is practically melting against him and humming, just a little. They sit like that for a few minutes, but eventually Vaughn jumps.
“Rhys?” He says suddenly.
“Yeah?”
“Are you trying to distract me from taking us out to dinner?”
“What? Haha, of course not,” he says unconvincingly.
Vaughn punches him in the gut, and Rhys laughs between wheezes.
“I thought you liked food, Rhys. All you ever do is eat, anyway.”
“Yeah, but… it’s not the food or anything , it’s – “
Vaughn opens the door to their apartment and holds out his hand for Rhys.
Rhys stares at his outstretched palm for a few silent moments before taking Vaughn’s hand in his robotic one, a flush setting on his face.
“It’s what?” Vaughn says as he leads them along, and after that, the only noise is their feet clicking on the floors of Helios.
“Oh, um, nothing, it’s nothing.” Rhys rubs the back of his neck with his other hand, squeezing Vaughn tightly with the other. “I just… we… in public… holding hands?” Rhys says eloquently.
“Do you care about other people seeing us or something?”
“No! No. I like us. We. We’re good. Just… I get… I dunno,” he says the last part very quietly, and Vaughn practically beams at him.
“You look a lot better flustered than cocky,” Vaughn shrugs as they walk, still grinning all the while.
“I’m always gorgeous, please.”
Vaughn turns on his heels and reaches up to kiss Rhys’ jaw because it’s all he can reach, and Rhys turns bright red in the hallway.
“Now you’re even better. C’mon.”
By the time they make it to the place Rhys is still blushing, and he can’t really help it. Every time Vaughn turns back to look at him he feels his face heating up again, and the little bastard knows he’s the one doing it to him.
He can feel people glance at their hands, fingers twined together. He doesn’t think for a second to let go of Vaughn’s hand but he does get even more embarrassed – Rhys is the touchiest person when they’re alone, Vaughn knows that well enough, but something about people staring him down just makes him shy.
For someone who’s so determined to keep up the bootleg Handsome Jack façade, he’s nothing like him and couldn’t ever really be. Vaughn won’t say that though. It’d probably crush his spirits. Instead he’ll just call him handsome every once in a while and watch Rhys go red as a tomato.
Vaughn has had reservations for, like, a week, and they’re immediately seated at this nice, gold-colored table, sitting across from each other. That’s when Vaughn lets go of his hand and Rhys finds himself huffing anxiously without having some sort of contact with him.
So he rests his knee near Vaughn’s under the table so they’re barely touching, but just enough that he’s comfortable with it.
“Dude, stop fidgeting.”
“I can’t help it,” Rhys semi-growls at him, messing with the fork on his side of the table. They sit like that for a while, Rhys constantly moving his leg to get some new angle on Vaughn.
Eventually, Rhys makes a ‘huh’ noise.
“What’s that for?” Vaughn says through a mouthful of pasta.
“You’re paying, right?”
“… yeah?”
“Whaddya say we get some expensive booze over here? Like that one time in college. You remember? When everyone was like ‘oh man, you know, I’d kill for a drink right now’ and you were like ‘don’t worry guys, Vaughn’s got you covered’ because you wanted to be the coolest guy there, right? I mean, you already were, but you wanted to look even cooler. ‘Course you do, that’s the time we made out on the –“
--
They spend a few hours at their table, laughing and talking and remembering things from the ‘old days’, even though they weren’t all that old in the first place. Rhys would say they were the days back ‘when they were stupid’ but both of them were still pretty damn stupid, so. Just the days when they were stupid and in college and had more options when it came to being completely fucking dumb.
Eventually Rhys gets fidgety again, though, and the waiter is kind of pushing them through the metaphorical door by checking up on them way more than usual.
“Can we just go home and eat ice cream?” Rhys slurs, following it up with a hiccup, and he’s pretty sure he’s seeing five of Vaughn. Maybe six. Maybe more, who knows? At least… three.
Vaughn watches his face for a second, really takes in the sheer amount of pout Rhys is putting into that look, and gives a resigned sigh. He’s not nearly as drunk, not because he’s responsible or anything but he just kind of… burns it off. It takes a lot to get him drunk. He’s pretty buzzed, but Rhys is a mess. He’s the biggest lightweight Vaughn’s ever known, and for some reason that just never changes.
“Sure, Rhys. You’re so whiny, you know that?”
“Yep,” Rhys admits from across the table, standing up woozily and moving around Vaughn in a semi-circle so that he’s on Vaughn’s left. He likes having his robotic hand within some sort of reach of Vaughn; he never really talks about it, but touching that arm is somehow more intimate than the other – it’s more vulnerable, he thinks, since it’s more clunky, and it’s sort of like going belly-up for someone when he lets them touch it.
That sounded weird in his head. He just liked holding Vaughn with his robotic hand.
The second they get through the door Rhys is on Vaughn, running his hands through his hair again.
“You’re so soft,” he says quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as he pushes him up against the wall.
Vaughn lifts his head into Rhys’ touch, chuckling quietly. “Am I?”
“Hell yeah. I ever tell you how much I love you? It’s, like, a whole lot.”
Vaughn pushes him back a little and Rhys moves a step back without hesitation, but he grabs Vaughn’s hands and moves them both around in a slow twirl, and then starts moving himself backward once he’s facing the couch.
“Always glad to hear it,” Vaughn grins until that grin is replaced with an almost-startled gasp as Rhys pulls him down onto the couch with him with both of their chests pressed close together, shifting until Vaughn is resting his hands on Rhys’ chest and his chin balanced on top of them.
“God, I am drunk.” Rhys pipes up. “I think I’m imagining you being insanely attractive.”
“Really? You think chugging all that champagne did it?” Vaughn plays along, feigning wonder.
“I don’t know,” Rhys says whimsically, like he’s off in his own world. After a moment of staring at him with the most awestruck expression he thinks he’s ever seen on the guy, though, Rhys reaches out to cup Vaughn’s face in both his hands, kissing his face in every place he could reach except his lips.
Vaughn does that for him, pressing their lips together gently. Vaughn moves upward so his knees are straddling Rhys’ waist and Rhys is fumbling with getting the buttons of Vaughn’s suit undone.
“Think you’re really up for that, Rhys? You’re drooling on yourself a little, I don’t think - ”
“Nope, just trying to help you get comfortable… so you can get up and get some ice cream from the fridge.”
Vaughn groans, but he gets off of Rhys, giving him one last parting kiss without much fuss.
By the time he comes back, Rhys’ head is pressed back against the couch cushion, and he looks for all the world like he’s asleep.
“Rhys?”
“I’m up, I’m up, my head’s just heavy,” he hears him say from across the room, and Rhys shifts on the couch to make room for Vaughn to huddle up against him, between Rhys’ chest and the arm of the couch. Rhys throws his robotic arm around him and pulls him as close as he can without squeezing him too hard. He’s squeezing him a lot, though.
“That wasn’t so bad, you should pay for our dinners more often,” Rhys says as he twirls a few of his fingers through Vaughn’s hair, making a complete mess of it in the process.
“Yeah, well my wallet isn’t happy, but as long as you’re enjoying yourself,” Vaughn says as he gets the carton open, eventually offering up Rhys a spoonful.
“Ooh, first you take me out to dinner, then you get me drunk, and now you’re feeding me ice cream? What’s the endgame, Vaughn? Huh?”
Vaughn shoves the next spoonful straight into his mouth, and the surprised half-choke Rhys makes is priceless.