Work Text:
5:03 PM
On a Friday
Philadelphia, PA
Dennis sat with his hand at the edge of the table, fidgeting with the thick linen tabletop liner, rearranging his utensils, his empty wine glass, and anything else within reach. He adjusted the layout of the table again and again and again, almost mindlessly, though it was anything but. There was a plan in mind and things had to be perfect. And Dennis’ mind was a well-oiled machine built for exactly that: perfection. It was everything else that needed fixing.
“Jesus Christ, dude. Will you stop freaking out?” Charlie asked Dennis.
“You told him five, right?” Dennis wasn’t listening.
“ Guigino’s , Friday night, five P-M, don’t be late,” Charlie droned on. “You’re the one that wrote it.”
“Then why isn’t he here?” Dennis was getting impatient and, evidently, so was Charlie. “I swear to god, Charlie, if your friend doesn’t show—”
“ Relax ,” Charlie cut him off. “He said he’s gonna be here, so he’s gonna be here. Just give it a minute, Dennis. Chill out.”
Dennis’ shoulders slumped and though he still fidgeted, still tugged the table liner back and forth and poked at his knife and fork, he didn’t say anything.
“... And he’s not my friend.”
Dennis shot Charlie a look but held his tongue. Within seconds, the both of them returned to a shared anticipatory silence, the same one they held since they arrived nearly half an hour ago. While Dennis continued his fidgeting, rearranging and reorganizing the table to better suit his vision (and to calm his nerves, though he would’ve denied it had Charlie asked), Charlie sat surprisingly quietly, bouncing his knee and staring at the entryway with his arms crossed, his fingers tapping the tops of his arms idly.
The only thing to finally break the tension was the sound of their waiter clearing his throat over Dennis’ shoulder.
“Good evening, gentlemen, I’ll be your server tonight. Have you had enough time to–” the second the waiter looked up from his pen and pad, he went quiet, and his faux-friendly smile dropped. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Dennis looked up from his napkin and fork, both of which he’d been tilting left and right to find the perfect angle, and stared at the waiter in silence.
There was a moment where Dennis swore he’d seen him somewhere. On the street, or at the bar, or maybe a grocery store somewhere, but the strange sense of familiarity was far from enough to have him try any harder to connect the dots. It wasn’t even enough to get Charlie to look away from the entrance, and so Dennis took that as a sign to move past it. Servers were servers; of course they all looked familiar.
“I’m waiting for someone so your services won’t be necessary right now,” Dennis flicked his wrist at the waiter and the man sighed. “Begone from me.”
“ Right .”
The waiter tucked his pen and pad away, almost having expected the response. By then, Dennis was already back to fixating on the space (or lack thereof) between his plate and utensils. The lack of attention put into the atmosphere of Guigino’s was almost maddening, and—
“I can uh, only hope that you two won’t be causing any trouble while you’re here,” the waiter, still hovering behind him, interrupted Dennis’ train of thought with a lighthearted laugh, and that was enough to make his brows twitch. Charlie, too, turned with a narrow look and the two stared the waiter down. “I have no problems serving you folks, it is my job. But I have to warn you, if another—”
“Oh, my god. Dennis, are you hearing this guy?” Charlie asked. He, too, flicked his wrists at the waiter, earning himself the same sigh Dennis had. “He already told you we’re waiting for someone, pal. Go, get on out of here,” he waved his hands a few more times at the waiter, “Go, go, go, go!”
“I was just saying,” the waiter interjected, “I don’t mind serving you people, I just—”
“You know what,” Dennis cut him off, finger pointed while he spoke, “I think we’ll just order right now, seeing as you’re not going anywhere.”
The waiter sighed. “Alright,” he said. “What would you gentlemen like?”
“I will have…” Dennis glanced at the menu, humming, though he barely gave the thing a read, “The spaghetti , please. Extra sauce.”
After a moment of hesitation, the waiter finally jotted down Dennis’ order and a thin-lipped smile appeared on Dennis’ face. The waiter shot him the same smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes and quickly disappeared once he turned to Charlie.
“And you?”
Charlie grinned and raised his brows, nudging Dennis with his elbow knowingly before he turned to the waiter, adding, “I will also be having the spaghetti with extra sauce.”
“Okay,” the waiter replied. He looked down at his pad of paper, sighed, then flashed another hospitable smile. “I will be right back with your orders.”
Dennis and Charlie held up their smiles as the waiter left, watching him weave around tables and dart into the kitchen before they finally dropped. The silence was back again but the anticipation had gone. Now, it was only tense.
And boring, too.
“Dennis. Did that guy look familiar to you?” Charlie piped up first, breaking the silence a second time.
Dennis, glancing back at where their waiter had disappeared to, answered, “Yeah. Yeah, kind of, but… not really.”
“Huh…”
As the two drifted off back into silence, Dennis took the time to look around the same as Charlie had been. First at the kitchen door across the room, then at each and every other table surrounding them, and finally the entryway. But his attention didn’t stay put for very long. Not once Charlie disturbed the silence by wriggling around in his seat, slipping off his worn green jacket to reveal a less than sanitary shirt. He’d only lifted his arms once but that was all it took.
Dennis scoffed in distaste.
“I still can’t believe you came here like that,” he said.
“Like what?” Charlie shook his jacket at his side, flattening it before laying it across the back of his chair and sitting back down comfortably.
“Like that ,” Dennis gestured to Charlie’s outfit; a t-shirt, jeans, and the same worn accessories he’d worn since birth, it seemed, “I asked you to dress at least kind of nicely, and you show up like that. You could’ve at least showered .”
“He’s not going to care.”
“I care,” Dennis said.
“Dennis, my neighbor’s like, the weirdest guy I know,” Charlie said. “Seriously, he’s not going to care. I still don’t know why you’re trying to impress him.”
Dennis deadpanned. “I am not trying to impress him.”
“Well, that’s kinda what it looks like, so…”
“I’m not trying to impress your freaky neighbor, Charlie! I’m—”
“Hi, sorry.”
Dennis went quiet and so did Charlie. They watched as Charlie’s Neighbor scurried forward and pulled up a chair opposite them both, only sitting down after checking that it sat perfectly in the middle (something Dennis quietly appreciated).
Once he was seated, Dennis looked him over, and Charlie gave him a look. His Neighbor wore a black polo and jacket just as worn as Charlie’s, albeit cleaner, and Dennis would’ve accepted the outfit if not for the fact that he knew very well what it was. The symbol by the breast pocket gave it away. A work uniform.
Told you . Charlie nudged Dennis.
“The bus never came so I kinda just had to walk here,” Charlie’s Neighbor explained himself as he got settled in, eyes looking everywhere but at Dennis and Charlie.
“That’s fine,” Dennis spoke through his teeth, his eyes still glued to the little white bird embroidered over the left side of the Neighbor’s chest. It took every bit of willpower for him to flash a smile when Charlie’s Neighbor finally faced him.
“Okay.”
Dennis took a deep breath and while he attempted to shake off the itch Charlie's Neighbor found himself the menu and opened it out onto the table without precaution. The corner hit the wine bottle at the center and it clinked, loud, but he thankfully had enough brain to move it further away, closer to Dennis where it was safe. At least, safer than it would’ve been stuck between himself and Charlie. He even had enough manners to apologize when he did.
None of it made up for the uniform.
“So, what,” Dennis started with a laugh, unable to keep himself from glancing down at the bird on Charlie’s Neighbor’s chest, “You just get off of work or you couldn’t find anything nicer to wear, or what?”
Charlie’s Neighbor looked down at himself, reaching up to mess with the buttons at the center of his neckline before laughing, too. “Oh, yeah.”
Dennis went quiet.
“ Yeah, to which part?”
When he received no answer, he turned to Charlie, almost asking for an explanation from him instead. The only thing Charlie gave him was a look.
Told you .
“Nevermind.” Dennis adjusted himself at the table, clicking his tongue as he settled himself for the hundredth time, “Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter, we’ll move past it.”
“Anyway, I bet you’re wondering why we’ve called you here,” Dennis said. He laughed again, trying to keep up a charm that seemed to be doing nothing. Charlie’s Neighbor still hadn’t looked up from the menu.
“Not really.”
Dennis went quiet again and sucked in a breath, trying hard to hold in the urge to snatch the menu right out of the guy’s hand to keep his attention on him. It was like talking to a brick wall with an even thicker brick wall for a brain. In a way, it was almost as difficult as trying to level with Charlie. Maybe even worse.
“Right. Well…”
Dennis forced another laugh and Charlie shot him another look. If not for the crowd, he would’ve strangled him right then and there.
“How about some wine?” Dennis asked.
Charlie’s Neighbor’s eyes poked above the menu for a moment and before he could answer, before he could even find the wine bottle, Dennis had answered for him.
“Charlie,” Dennis commanded, “Pour the gentleman a glass of wine, please.”
“What?”
Charlie looked from Dennis to the bottle of wine, then to his Neighbor, and his face scrunched up. Charlie’s Neighbor only stared back at them both in silence, poking out from behind the menu like a little lost animal.
Charlie shook his head. “No, he can do it himself.”
“Charlie, pour the man some wine.”
“No, dude. If anything, he should be the one pouring us wine!” Charlie turned to his Neighbor and pointed to him, making his own demand, “Start pouring.”
Dennis’ brow twitched. “God damn it, Charlie.”
Dennis shook his head, trying to clear his mind and body of the frustrated itch building up inside before turning to Charlie’s Neighbor to make amends, but by the time he went to speak, Charlie’s Neighbor was on his feet with his hand reaching for the wine bottle. Quickly, almost frantically, Dennis smacked his hand away.
“Stop, stop. What are you doing? Sit ,” Dennis grabbed him by the shoulders and sat him back down, “Just sit down. Forget about the god damned wine, just– let’s forget about the wine, alright?”
“Okay,” Charlie’s Neighbor replied.
With the Neighbor back in his seat, Dennis took a breath and settled down again, but not for long. One look at Charlie was all that was needed to break the facade Dennis had been crafting since the beginning. The tension was high, too high for him to dwindle down before the end of the night, and Dennis caved.
“Look, I’m just going to get right to it,” Dennis said. “Charlie and I have been doing some thinking,” he gestured between them both and Charlie’s Neighbor followed like a dog, “And we’ve been thinking it’s about time we incorporated someone new into the mix, if you get my meaning.”
Charlie’s Neighbor seemed to pale. When he looked at Charlie and saw him nodding along, the color entirely drained from his face. He kept quiet.
“And obviously,” Dennis laughed, though the charm was gone, “You can think about it. It’s a pretty big ask, I know, but I think I’ve come up with a pretty decent proposal and if I’m being honest, I don’t think it’s one you can refuse. So—”
“Are you trying to have sex with me?”
His voice was loud. Loud enough to make the rest of the restaurant feel dead silent and loud enough to make both Charlie and Dennis pale, too, though the color returned almost immediately for Charlie who jumped halfway out of his seat, hands gripping the edge of the table. He almost seemed ready to pounce.
“I mean,” Charlie’s Neighbor continued and the heat only got worse, “I don’t really… not that you guys are bad looking, or anything. It’s just that, uh…”
“What?” Dennis blanked. “No! No, that’s not—”
“You wish you could bang us!” Charlie snapped, the words coming out faster than both he and Dennis could anticipate. “We wouldn’t even be asking you anyway! If anything, you’re the last person we’d ever—!”
“ Charlie !”
Though Charlie was louder, and more vulgar, it was Dennis who’d made the restaurant truly go silent. It was Dennis, too, who felt it the worst.
“Sit your ass down, god damn it,” Dennis said through gritted teeth. Charlie listened, though not without dropping his chair back into place with a loud thud.
Finally, the sounds of forks and knives and chatter returned to the background and Dennis took a deep breath. Charlie did, too, and though the both of them were still red, still heated, neither of them were certain of where it came from.
“I wasn’t,” Dennis paused, gesturing again between him and Charlie, “We weren’t trying to… I was talking about the bar , about having you help around the bar.”
Charlie’s Neighbor’s mouth dropped. “Oh.”
Charlie, fighting through the urge to jump up and attack a second time, simply crossed his arms tight over his chest and looked over his shoulder at the entryway, trying to keep his body and mind busy. But even then, the color in his face hadn’t died down, and the most he could do was huff and puff and simmer.
“Sorry,” Charlie’s Neighbor said.
Dennis rubbed a hand down his face. “It’s fine.”
“I mean,” Charlie’s Neighbor looked down at the menu laid out in front of him and toyed with the edge before shrugging, “I probably would’ve said yes anyway.”
Like a rocket, Charlie shot up out of his seat and reached across the table, hands open and aimed for his Neighbor who ducked instantly, as if on instinct.