Chapter Text
Thomas' phone lit up with a notification when he had just sat down at the only empty table at the coffee shop. His shoulders dropped when he read the notification preview, it was a text from the man he was supposed to be meeting for a date right now.
Erik
Hi Thomas I'm so sorry but something came up at work and I will not be able to make it
Thomas sighed. That made this his third failed tinder date in the month. He was halfway to beating his record of January two years ago when he had had six failed dates.
Don't worry :)
There. He wasn't going to offer a make-up date if Erik wasn't going to offer it. And, really, how many middle-school teachers could have a work emergency on a Saturday afternoon? If Erik hadn't wanted to go on a date, he should've just said so.
He was deciding if he should go back to his flat when the waitress arrived at his table to take his order. Well now it was too late, Thomas would feel too awkward explaining that he didn't want to order anything and leaving. He hadn't even started looking at the menu, he glanced at it and ordered the first thing he saw, he hoped he hadn’t made a mistake ordering a Rainbow Explosion Cold Brew.
He looked at his phone again, just to have something to do while he waited for his drink. He was swiping through his best friends' Instagram stories from their hangout last night when he heard the other chair in his table being moved.
He looked up from his phone to see the most beautiful man his eyes had ever seen. Thomas' brain was screaming Tall, dark and handsome! on a loop, though Thomas was sure that if he was standing up, he would be taller than the other man.
The man in front of him was dark-skinned, which was complemented beautifully by his ink-black hair and dark eyes. Thomas wondered if his hair would feel as smooth as it looked and wished he could run his hands through the man's hair, preferably also while making out with him. He was wearing a dark blue silk shirt and gray trousers, Thomas wanted to know which one would feel smoother under his hands, the man's shirt or his hair.
"Hi, I'm sorry, but can I sit here? My toxic ex is following me and I told him I was going on a date here," the beautiful man explained.
Thomas nodded, his brain still a little muddled by the man's beauty.
"Thanks," the man sat down, "um, this might be more awkward but if you see a redhead walk in can you grab my hand? Or, I don't know, I guess I don't know what would make him believe we are on a date," he mumbled the last part, and Thomas had to strain his ears to hear him.
Tall-dark-and-handsome's chair was facing the back of the shop so he couldn't see the door, but Thomas was facing the door when Charles Fairchild, the older brother of his best friend Matthew, walked in.
Thomas grabbed the other man's hand over the table, which made him look up from the menu he was scanning, "uh, did you say redhead?"
"Yes, a little taller than me, he was wearing a suit when I escaped from him."
"Is your ex Charles Fairchild?" Thomas asked. As far as he was aware, Charles was straight, and homophobically straight at that. Matthew didn't get along with his brother since he was constantly voicing his disapproval of his younger brother's bisexuality. But then again, Charles being homophobic to hide the fact that he was attracted to men didn't seem so far off.
"Yes! Wait-," the man's dark eyebrows twisted to a concerned expression, "how do you know him?"
"Um, he's the older brother of one of my friends, I didn't know he dated men though," Thomas didn't want the beautiful man to run away from him if he thought Thomas was close friends with Charles.
The man in front of him let out a sarcastic laugh, "of course you didn't, he wouldn't want anyone knowing he's been tempted by the devil's twisted ways," he made air quotes with his fingers and finished off by rolling his eyes.
"That sounds more like the Charles I know," commented Thomas. From the corner of his eye, he saw Charles spot their table, confusion then anger flashing across his face. Thomas brought the other man's hand close to his mouth and kissed his knuckles, "play along, he is watching," he whispered.
The dark-haired man was looking at him like he had been in the desert for a month and Thomas was the first glass of water he saw, like he couldn't believe Thomas was real. Thomas blushed and dropped their hands on the table but didn't let go.
"Was- was that too much?"
"It was-" the man's voice came out breathless, he cleared his throat and repeated, "it was perfect. Yeah, um, that will make Charles think we are on a date."
Thomas spotted Charles walking out of the shop, glaring at their table through the window while he walked past on the sidewalk.
“I think he believed it, he just left,” Thomas announced.
“Oh, well, I guess I should go-” he pulled his hand away from Thomas’.
“You can stay!” Thomas let out quickly, causing people around them to look at him, he didn’t care, nor did he want this man to walk out of his life so quickly, “I mean, uh, he just left, you should probably stay a few more minutes to avoid running into him again.”
“You are probably right, thank you so much for helping me.”
“It was no trouble at all,” Thomas offered a friendly smile.
The waitress arrived at that moment with Thomas’ order, which looked ridiculous. It was a tall glass of cold coffee, colored to look mint-green, topped with pink whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles. Thomas internally cringed, he was going to have to drink that in front of the most handsome man he had ever met.
“What the hell did you order?” the gorgeous man asked with a laughing tone once the waitress was out of earshot.
“I don’t know,” Thomas was looking at the drink with a mix of concern and disgust. He tried one sip of it and regretted it instantly.
“I take it you don’t like it?” the laughing tone was still in the other man’s voice.
“No,” Thomas made an ugly face at the drink, “it has caramel sweetener.”
“Hey! Don’t insult the caramel flavor in front of me!”
“You actually like that stuff?”
“Yes,” he pushed the menu closer to Thomas, “here, order something you might actually like, my treat.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Please, take it as a ‘thank you for saving me’ gift,” his face was suddenly serious, and Thomas got the feeling that the man in front of him was not going to take no for an answer.
“Okay, thank you, but what about this monstrosity?” he pointed to the offending drink.
“Can I try it?”
Thomas passed him the drink and watched as he drank it, expecting a reaction similar to his.
“Mm, not bad, mind if I steal it from you?”
“Please, don’t make me taste that again.”
The gorgeous man let out a loud laugh, Thomas wanted to do anything to hear it again.
“I should probably introduce myself, I’m Alastair.”
“Thomas, nice to meet you.”
He saw Alastair wave to the waitress, and Thomas ordered a plain black coffee once she was at their table, better play it safe than order another drink that could send him into a sugar-induced coma.
“Black coffee with no sugar? Really?” Alastair’s eyebrow was quirked up.
“Hey, I will not take judgment from someone who’s drinking the most sugar-y drink known to man.”
“I have to compensate for my bitter soul some way,” his tone was joking, but Thomas wanted to know why he thought he had a bitter soul.
Thomas was trying to come up with a topic of conversation, he was curious about Alastair’s past relationship with Charles, but he didn’t think that would be a good conversation topic.
“So, what were you doing all alone in a coffee shop without a laptop or book in front of you?” Alastair asked before Thomas could think of something.
“Um, I had just gotten a message that I was being stood up,” Thomas blushed. Great, now Alastair, gorgeous Alastair, was going to know about his disappointing love life, “apparently something came up,” Thomas made air quotes, “at the middle school he works at.”
“What a dick move, how did you ever meet someone like that?”
Thomas was sure the red in his cheeks had intensified, “um, tinder?” he felt guilty for admitting that.
“Well, you are brave for joining a dating app, I could never do that.”
“You’ve never used a dating app?”
“Nope, I meet enough dickheads in real life, so why bother meeting even more online,” Alastair shrugged.
Thomas guessed he was talking about Charles but wondered if there were more men that had mistreated Alastair.
The waitress arrived with Thomas coffee, which he drank happily to take out the bad taste the previous coffee had left in his mouth.
Alastair and Thomas spent the next hour getting to know each other. Thomas told Alastair about his job as a music producer, he usually worked with independent bands and solo acts but every now and then he would sign temporary contracts with music labels to produce for one of their newer acts.
He learned that this past June Alastair had finished his master’s degree in Iranian Studies and Intensive Persian at the University of London, and the next week he would be starting his fourth semester teaching Contemporary Middle East Fiction to the undergraduates. Thomas could tell he was really passionate about the subject and inquired about it. Alastair looked surprised that he had asked.
“Sorry, most people assume I chose it because it was an easy career for me, since I was born in Iran and Persian it’s my first language,” Alastair explained, “but it is more than that for me, I lived there until I was eight and my family moved to Paris and I haven’t been back since, because we kept moving around the world through the rest of my life, until we settled in Devon a year before I started university and I moved here. I just missed my country so much,” the longing was palpable in his voice, “I only spoke Persian with my mother and my sister, and only when we were inside our house, and my mother only cooked us traditional food on special occasions. In a way, studying it for my bachelor’s degree was my way of reconnecting with my country and my culture, and then I just kept falling more and more in love with it, so I enrolled in a master’s degree after... sorry I’m rambling, you probably don’t want to hear all this.”
“No, please, keep going, I actually have studied a little bit of Persian, my friend Lucie had an Internet friend that spoke Persian and she wanted to learn it for her, and I’m good at learning languages so she asked for my help, I’m probably not fluent enough to keep up a conversation though.”
“Oh,” Alastair looked speechless.
The waitress arrived at their table, asking if they were going to order something else or if they wanted the bill. Thomas glanced at their drinks and noticed that they had both finished them while they were talking.
“What do you think?” Thomas asked Alastair.
“I should probably go,” Alastair decided for them and asked the waitress for the bill, telling the waitress to bring it to him since he was paying.
Thomas tried not to let his disappointment show that their time was over but reminded himself that Alastair had only been looking for someone to take Charles off of him, he hadn’t come here looking for a date.
Once Alastair had paid for their drinks, they walked out of the shop together. Outside, Thomas turned to Alastair, coming up with a last-minute idea to keep in touch, if Alastair wanted to.
“I could give you my number, just- just in case you ever need a fake date again,” Thomas explained quickly.
“I really hope I don’t need to bother you again,” Alastair said.
Thomas wanted to hide in shame, of course Alastair wasn’t looking for more than one fake date.
“But I guess it would be helpful, just in case,” Alastair continued, giving Thomas his phone so he could write his number.
Thomas wrote his number, double-checking to make sure he hadn’t messed it up in his excitement.
“So, I guess I’ll see you around?” Alastair said once Thomas had given him his phone back.
“Yeah, um- goodbye?” Thomas internally cursed his awkwardness, maybe that’s why none of his past dates had gone further than a third date.
“Goodbye Thomas, it was nice meeting you,” Alastair offered him a small smile.
“You too, have a good day,” Thomas waved awkwardly as he watched Alastair turn around and walk away.
Thomas sighed and turned the opposite way to go back to his flat, part of him was glad had stood him up, as it led to having an empty table that Alastair could crash.