Chapter Text
“Angus, we live in the city. There’s not gonna be any stars. It’s all light pollution and haze.”
“Aaaand i repeat, you are the least romantic person i have ever met. Seriously, man, where’s your sense of adventure?” Angus replies, “Open, please,” he says to his patient, and sticks the thermometer under their tongue after they comply.
“Think I left it next to the two inch glass shard i pulled out of that girl's eye, but you can go snag it for me if you want…”
“Okay, seriously?” Angus asks, glaring at Mario and pulling the thermometer away when the patient gags slightly. “Sorry about my friend here, he means well, but he’s gross.”
The patient nods, glancing at Mario warily as he chuckles.
Angus moves quickly on to checking his patient's blood pressure. “Seriously, though,” he says, glancing up at Mario, “How can you have lived your whole life and not once have gone and looked at the stars?”
“Dunno,” Comes the reply, as Mario opens up the binder that a nurse had just slapped against his chest as she power walked by him. “Guess I always had more important shit to do. Aw, really? Another viagra case? Why am i always getting stuck with these?”
“Bad luck? The universe is conspiring against you? Either way, shoo. You’re disturbing my patient.” Angus waves at him and smiles (god, that smile, Mario hates it, how does Angus look so adorable all the goddamn time? He swears he was straight before he met him...), then turns back to the patient, who looks not so much disturbed as trying to figure out if they’re a couple or not.
Later on, at the lockers, Angus has yet to stop trying to convince Mario to go and look at the stars with him.
“It’ll be fun! Come on, dude, just humor me on this one. If you’re so worried about light pollution, my parents own a small farm out in the countryside and we can go there and spend the night, if you're okay with that.” Angus says. "There's no one there right now."
Mario sighs loudly, eyes shut, leaning against the lockers and spinning his phone between his thumb and forefinger. “Good lord, you’re never gonna let this go, are you.”
“Probably not, no.”
“Fine.”
“What?” Angus glances over at Mario, shutting his locker, hardly believing his ears.
“I said fine, man. I’ll go. Not like I have anywhere else to be.”
Angus just barely resists putting a hand on his heart to quiet it’s fluttering. It’s not like he jumped at the chance to run off with you. He tells himself sternly. Calm down. “Great!” He replies, when he realizes that Mario’s waiting for him to respond.
Mario just rubs one of his eyes with the hand that’s not spinning the phone, god he looks tired. It’s adorable, if anything about Mario could ever be described with that adjective. “How long’s the drive?”
“Three hours. I’ll drive.”
Mario mumbles something unintelligible, then drops his phone. His eyes snap open, and he looks down at it like it insulted him. Angus has to stifle his laughter.
“What time are you picking me up?” Mario asks, bending down and snatching the phone up.
“‘Round three.”
Mario nods, “Alright. See you then.” He claps a hand on his shoulder and leaves.
If Angus reaches up to touch his shoulder, there’s no one around to see it.
He checks his phone as he walks out to his car, Mario had sent him a text a couple minutes after he had brought up going stargazing.
FROM: Mario (2:43 AM):
too many dicks. i dont wanna preform surgery on another penis angus help me pray that the shots work on this one bc if i see another goddamn penis. im so exhausted man
TO: Mario (9:12 AM):
Good thing you're going on my SUPER relaxing mini stargazing vacation then!!! ;)
FROM: Mario (9:12 AM):
*eye roll emoji* *middle finger emoji*
Angus is pretty sure he’s never been more stressed before in his life. Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. He went through finals with an anxiety disorder, after all. That’s stress. He performs operations on dying patients smack in the center of code black on a daily basis, half the time when he's on the verge of an anxiety or panic attack. That, too, is stress.
But getting ready for a not-date with Mario is pretty up there in terms of stress, if he’s honest.
He doesn’t remember calling Malaya’s number, but when she responds with a “Hey, Angus, what’s up?” All the words leave him in a rush.
“Help me Malaya oh god I don’t know what to wear.”
He can almost feel her smiling patiently through the phone, not the patronizing patiently that he often got in psych, the kind that was just a step up from a retail smile, had driven him crazy because goddamn it, he wasn’t five, being anxious doesn’t make you into a five year old, having a panic attack doesn’t make you an infant or lesser. Malaya doesn’t do that, she listens and smiles like she’s got all the time in the world and your problems are all that she wants to hear about, like she actually cares. And if Angus is honest, it helps that her face looks like it’s comprised of pure angel feathers and early dawn light. If he strains his ear he can hear what sounds like the music for a team rocket battle playing in the background as she responds, the familiar noises almost as soothing as her voice. “Take a few deep breaths, okay dude?”
Angus does. He feels stupid for being on the verge of an anxiety attack because he can’t pull a few bits of clothing out of his closet for something that’s not even a real date, but he does, instead of letting himself cycle through it as some weird and unhealthy form of self punishment.
“So what’s wrong? Everything okay?”
“So you know how I managed to convince Mario to go stargazing with me?”
A small burst of static as Malaya repositions the phone, the sound of someone landing a super effective move. “Of course. You’re gonna stay at the farmhouse for the night?”
“Yeah.” Angus starts pacing his room, raking a hand through his hair. “Except now I’m considering faking sick because I can’t decide what to wear.”
“Aw, I’m sorry. But definitely don’t cancel on Mario, he’ll probably think that you just changed your mind on spending any time with him outside of work and that could go very bad…”
“I know, I know.” He rests his head on the wall with a thunk.
“And don’t give yourself a concussion either. Just wear something comfy but nice! Like, your favourite jeans and a shirt with flannel over it, you look good in that. You’ll be fine no matter what. Okay?”
Angus takes another deep breath. “Okay.”
He hears another voice come through the phone, indistinct and echoey, but he immediately recognizes it as Eva. “Tell Eva I said hi.”
“Grilled cheese is great for lunch - and Angus says hi.”
“Hi Angus!” Eva says, grabbing the phone. “You going on your date with Mario soon?”
Angus sighs theatrically. “Maybe. Tell me, Eva, why do straight boys have to exist?”
“You sure he’s not bi? I mean, a lot of times you can sorta tell-,”
“Eva,’ Malaya pipes up, her voice faint, “The only reason that you knew i was gay was because we met at a pride parade and I was wearing my ‘I may be cute, but I’m also a lesbian’ shirt.”
Angus bursts out laughing and Eva makes a vaguely affronted sound. “Okay, point. But don’t be too scared to test the waters a little, alright?”
“Yes ma’am.” He responds, smiling. “Thank you, Eva.”
“No problem. Here’s Malaya - we’re having a sort of a lazy day and I’m gonna go make grilled cheese.”
“Bye.”
“Hello again,” Malaya says, followed shortly by “Goddamn zubats, leave me alone.”
“Having a tough time?”
“Uh-huh. But not as tough of a time as you’ll have if you’re late to pick Mario up. Go get dressed!”
“Alright. Thank you, Malaya.”
“Have fun!”