Chapter Text
Gusion’s angry footsteps were heard long before the sound of a door slammed and a very offensive huff.
Aamon was unbothered, however. He continued to enjoy his afternoon coffee, which had just cooled down to his preferred temperature, with one cube of sugar and no creamer. Nothing would keep him from his daily indulgence. Not even his baby brother’s glare that could surely send him six feet under if looks could truly kill.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Gusion snarled, with full venom in his words. Aamon only needed to see from his peripheral to notice that his brother was fuming with rage.
Ah, young blood.
“Plenty, including why my baby brother is here sending me a death glare at midday during work hours,” Aamon said, not even sparing his baby brother a glance as he sipped his coffee.
It tasted wonderful. Satisfying. He would consider giving Archie a bonus for this cup of coffee alone, but she was just getting a raise, so that would do it for now.
“Don’t play the fool, brother,” Gusion said, his voice sharp and steady, not a decibel lower.
Aamon took another sip and placed the cup on the coaster, humming in contentment as it made a soft clinking sound. Glass. His favorite material for furniture. The sharp sound it made as it clinked always soothed him.
He must have appreciated it a heartbeat too long because Gusion let out a sound between a growl and a shriek, the kind of sound that only angry teenagers could muster.
“I know you’re the one who transferred Claude to another division. Again!” Gusion said, pointing a very sharp accusatory glare at Aamon’s nose.
“Am I now?” Aamon rested his hand on the keyboard, fixing his eyes to the statistics on his screen. All were going up. Business is terrific, just like his coffee this afternoon. “Who is this Claude, if I may ask? Does he even have a full name? Is he an employee? An intern? I’m not sure. This company is big, and I can’t know everything.”
From the corner of his eye, Aamon noted Gusion stepping closer to the desk—not flailing, as Aamon originally expected, but closing Aamon’s laptop in a dangerous calm that Aamon would do himself when he was utterly furious.
“Wow, you really are mad,” Aamon said. He was actually impressed with how similar Gusion acted to him. They shared the same genes, after all. “What might be the problem, dear brother?”
“You’re transferring Claude Newton to another division. Again,” the angry blush on his face deepened as he dictated every word. “This is the second time this month. You’re doing it on purpose to get to me.”
Aamon narrowed his eyes. The accusation was not entirely false, but he was not about to admit that right away. “Hmm,” he hummed, resting his fingers on his chin in mock contemplation. “Then pray tell, little brother, if you think I really did that, why do I think it would get to you ?”
Gusion’s lips twisted, and Aamon couldn’t help the satisfied smile on his face.
Busted.
He would count that as a win. But truthfully, Gusion had walked straight into Aamon’s trap the moment he stormed into the room—that was the real victory. This was just the added joy that followed.”
Gusion must have realized it, too, because his face turned an even deeper shade of red. Aamon hadn’t thought that was possible. It was very impressive.
“Ugh, whatever!” Gusion growled as he slammed his fist on the glass table. “Because you know I’m dating him!”
Aamon snapped his fingers. “Ah, so you mean the Claude Newton,” he said. “The boy who sucked your face in the storage room. Do you really have to introduce us this way, baby brother? It feels a tad bit awkward. I rather wish you do it the normal way.”
“ You could have just asked like normal people instead of eavesdropping on the office’s gossip and peeking through the CCTV record,” Gusion threw his hands. He was purely seething now. Hilarious. “Seriously, big brother. You can’t just make people suffer just because you’re shit at communicating.”
“Language, young man!” Aamon pointed. “And I communicate fine, thank you so much. No one ever complains about it but a very particular rebellious teenager, whom I know for a fact will not give me an honest answer if I ask nicely.”
“Because I know you would make a petty move like this!” Gusion said, frustration thick in his voice. “Take it back, now.”
“Take what back?”
“Move him back to the Product Development! Claude was only beginning to make friends, and that department suited his major and skill, too! If you can’t move him back because of your petty revenge on me, consider this a professional recommendation because he’s that good at programming. He would make a good contribution to the app we were developing. His talent is greatly wasted in Tech Support!”
“Contrary to popular belief, I am not making decisions out of pettiness, unlike some people,” Aamon said nonchalantly while leering toward Gusion, emphasizing his point. “He’s moved there because our Tech Support needs an extra hand for the project they are currently working on top of the hacker’s attack that recently disrupted one of our servers. They are very grateful for the extra hands.”
They don’t. Not as much as Aamon made it to be, but judging from the bright expression on Gerald’s face when the HR announced Claude’s arrival, Aamon was sure that the guy appreciated the extra manpower on his part—a brilliant one, too, at that.
Gusion made a grumbling sound. “You’re… ugh,” Gusion stomped out of frustration. “You’re unbearable.”
”I guess it runs in the family, hmm?”
Gusion groaned exasperatedly. “Ugh, seriously, get yourself a partner. Get laid, Go date someone, or whatever! Ugh, I guess Claude was right.”
Aamon raised his brows. “Claude was right, what?”
“No, I’m not talking to you anymore!” he exclaimed. “I’m getting you back at this! Just you wait!”
And then he stormed away, as loud as he was when he entered Aamon’s workroom.
The older Paxley stared at the closed door, feeling like he was probably in for something really dangerous. It felt like a declaration of war—delivered in the Paxley family’s signature menacing calm.
With a content sigh, Aamon reopened his laptop. War or not, business wouldn’t run itself.
-
Natan thought that after sixteen months of seeing Xavier look like he was being mauled by a bear first thing in the morning, he would somewhat get used to it.
He did not.
He still cursed under his breath this morning, too, when he walked into the kitchen and saw Xavier’s neck and chest littered with angry red bite marks. Theoretically, ignoring them was the decent roommate thing to do—but theory was far easier than practice because how could he ignore it when those marks were so red, so many, and so apparent that they were practically glaring at him?
The worst part is that Xavier did not even attempt to cover it—not after the first six months.
The blue-haired guy shifted his eyes from the book he was reading and rolled his eyes. “Please be less obvious with your annoyance, Nate,” he said, sipping his tea. “I could hear your mind complaining all the way from here.”
“Surprisingly, I'm not even annoyed this time,” Natan said, trying not to look at Xavier and the glaring red marks and instead through the cabinets to look for the special coffee ground he kept for occasions like this. Jamaican. A gift from the University Dean in his farewell party. The coffee that Natan reserved for when he was extra stressed and needed extra strength. “I’m simply disappointed that you no longer have the decency to wear a shirt this time.”
Xavier scoffed. “What’s the point? It’s not like you did not hear us last night.”
He said that with a small tug of his lips, exactly when Natan felt himself blush furiously.
Bastard.
“I did not ,” Natan said, emphasizing the last word with a raised voice. “In fact, I have never heard anything since I made a great investment in soundproof earphones. Have you ever heard of them? They are a wonderful piece of technology. They help me with my peaceful slumber, especially when Fredrinn is staying the night. Perhaps you must consider purchasing them as gifts to our neighbors before they complain again about unwanted noises .”
Xavier laughed. “I still bet a sound dampener would be cheaper in the long run,” he said. “Also, I lied. We did not do anything last night.”
At that, Natan turned his heel and glared at Xavier. “Shut up.”
The man only shrugged. “These all were from this morning. We actually tried to keep it down. Judging by how you have no clue, I guess we finally pulled it off?”
Natan could feel an embarrassed blush creep up his cheeks as he let out a defeated sigh that resembled a laugh. As much as he likes Xavier, that roommate of his was a truly nasty jester.
Natan did not even turn to raise his middle finger.
“Next time you pull that kind of prank, I’ll just say I jerk off to the sound of you two fucking. See if you’re grossed out.”
“Mmm, kinky,” Xavier laughed—then, after a beat, Natan heard the rustle of fabric. Xavier was putting on his shirt. A sign the joke had run its course.
Once Xavier was finally dressed, Natan sat across from him, set the coffee mug on the table, and pulled his most exaggerated expression of moral disappointment. “You’re a horrible person, and you will drag me down to your level.”
Xavier smirked, settling into the seat across from him like he owned the kitchen—and the joke. “You love me, though, right?”
“I love you better when you’re not dating Fredrinn,” Natan pointed out after sipping his coffee. “He’s enabling your behavior. He’s making you an even nastier jester than you already were.”
“Dude! That ain’t on me! Xav’s just naturally cruel!” Fredrinn suddenly entered the room, his loud voice booming into the kitchen's high ceiling. He was wearing a shirt, too, thankfully. Though, his decency stopped there because once he arrived at the kitchen, Fredrinn tilted Xavier’s chin to meet him in a peck, with zero regard for Natan’s presence.
“Yes, but you’ve never once scolded him if he’s going too far. That’s just as bad,” Natan barked back.
Fredrinn laughed as he pulled a chair to sit next to Xavier. “Well, for most parts, his jokes are hilarious,” he said as he grabbed Xavier’s tea mug and ignored the death glare that Xavier was flashing him. “But I get where ya come from. Good thing I’m taking him away and saving you from all ‘a that, right?”
Natan raised his brows, and at the same time, Xavier sighed in complete annoyance. His face twisted as he glared at Fredrinn. Natan couldn’t help but snickered at that view. It’s always funny how Fredrinn seemed able to get on Xavier’s nerves easily as if he were the perfect counter for him.
“What?” Fredrinn asked. But he must have noticed the change in Xavier’s face because his grin quickly fell. “Shit, you ain’t tell him yet?”
“I was gonna tell him later , you shithead,” Xavier grumbled. “Thanks for spoiling the surprise.”
At that, Natan’s smile faltered. He alternated glances between his friends, trying to guess what that was about. “Okay, what surprise, guys?”
Neither Xavier nor Fredrinn answered. They were still staring (or, in Xavier’s case, glaring ) at each other as if they were having a mental conversation and Natan was not invited.
“... Guys?”
Xavier sighed, and with a roll of his eyes, he finally raised his left hand, showing his perfectly trimmed nails and a gold band circling nicely on his ring finger.
Natan's brows shot up so high as he gasped. “Dude! Is that what I think it is?” he asked as he leaned forward to look closer. A simple gold band with a mild curve accent that looked like a subtle shape of F and X. He then glanced at Fredrinn, who he knew was worse at hiding something. And true to his suspicion, Fredrinn was letting out a toothy grin.
“Yep,” he said, looking very pleased with himself. “He said, ‘duh, you moron’, then kissed me. That’s a yes.”
“That’s awesome! Congratulations… When did you… well, you know what? Who cares! I’m just happy for you two! Come here!” Natan leaned forward and offered both Xavier and Fredrinn a fist bump.
Xavier only laughed, meeting Natan’s fist with his own. “What, no hugs?”
“No, not when you look like you’ve just been mauled by the bear. Later, though,” Natan said, a smile still wide on his lips. “So, when’s the big date? Are you moving into his house? What’s next?”
At that, Xavier and Fredrinn’s smiles faltered. They shared glances in a “you talk”—“no you” kind of way, which made Natan furrow his eyebrows, not appreciating that he was being left out of the conversation. Again.
“Geez, guys, what did I say about ‘silent banter’ when I’m around?” Natan scoffed. “Please stop that. Just tell me if you don’t wanna tell yet. I’ll stop prying and…”
“No, man, that’s the thing,” Fredrinn said. Apparently, he was the losing party in that silent conversation of theirs. Naturally, he always seemed to let Xavier talk him out into anything. “This lil gem here refused to set anything. No dates, no moving-in, no nothing… until you get a boyfriend.”
Natan’s mind made the exact sound of a sitcom record scratch—the kind that meant someone just said something deeply, stupidly wrong.
“Excuse me… what?”
Fredrinn shrugged. “You heard me. He refused to…”
“No, no, Fredrinn, I heard you the first time, thank you,” Natan frowned. “But what does me being single have to do with a new stage of your relationship?”
“It has everything to do with my consciousness, man,” Xavier said, sighing like he was carrying the world's weight with him. “I can’t leave you alone in this big house without a single company. You’d die alone.”
Natan scoffed. “I can take care of myself, Xav. Thank you so much.”
“Yeah and when was the last time you buy real groceries that is not coffee?” he challenged. Before Natan could answer, he continued again. “ “Or cleaned the kitchen? Or called someone to mow the backyard? Or—”
“Alright, geez,” Natan rolled his eyes. “Still, it shouldn’t get in the way of you moving in. I’ll find someone, don’t worry.”
“Dude, you’ve been saying that since you broke up with Professor Nolan ten years ago. I still don’t see you finding someone .”
Natan grimaced. “That’s not true! I dated that sheriff two years ago.”
Xavier deadpanned. “You were on witness protection. It wasn’t a date. He was with you everywhere because he was supposed to keep watch on you.”
Natan shrugged. “He bought me drinks.”
“With State’s money, which I still think it’s illegal. He’s supposed to be reported for minor corruption for that.”
“No, sweet gem. That’s actually legal in Los Pecados. Part of the witness protection program is to make the witness feel comfortable during the program. The country would bear the cost, though with a capped number,” Fredrinn interrupted. “If we're gonna count that as Natan's date, then what Clint did after he clocked out on the same day is the real deal. Did he feel you up or something? Or did you make out? After he clocked out, of course. If he's still on the clock, that could be reported as harassment. Unless, of course, you like him back. But anyway, did something like that happen?”
Natan paused, trying to find something to prove that he was on a date, but Xavier was probably right. Sheriff Clint was probably just being nice and doing his job. Besides, Natan had filed his interest to Sheriff Clint as a Suspension Bridge Effect or whatever. It was not even a real thing from his end.
Xavier did not know that. Natan could still lie to save his dignity.
But apparently, it was too late.
Xavier had crossed his hands on his chest by the time Natan sobered from his own thoughts, looking like a guy on a mission.
That’s not a good sign. Not at all.
“Xav, come on,” Natan licked his lips, his signature move that signed that he’d spout out a lengthy argument about why he’s right. “You two deserved to be happy. Don’t let my pathetic singleness keeps you away from moving on with your life. I can handle myself and I swear I will bring a date to your wedding to make me look less pathetic. A beautiful one, too, you’ll see! You wouldn’t have to worry about me ever again.”
Xavier placed his chin on his hand, locking his eyes on Natan, digesting his every word.
“He’s gonna rent a boyfriend to our wedding, isn’t he?” Fredrinn asked Xavier without peeling his eyes away from Natan, like Natan was a missing puzzle piece from a box he didn’t remember opening.
“Absolutely,” Xavier said. “That’s the lamest and least convincing argument I’ve ever heard from him. In fact, that’s the lamest argument I’ve ever heard from all the living beings I’ve ever met in my life, and I’ve met your friends.”
“Hey! My friends aren’t all stupid,” Fredrinn protested. “So, stick to the plan?”
“Stick to the plan,” Xavier nodded.
“Guys, I’m still here!” Natan groaned.
“Great, so you will hear that I pledge not to move out of this house, at least until you get a real boyfriend ,” Xavier said. Now, he was staring at Natan’s eyes and looking very determined. “And believe me, I will keep my word. This is a personal mission.”
Fredrinn leaned forward, making a secretive face as he whispered, “Once he got his eyes on a mission, he wouldn’t let go.”
Natan knows that because he has been friends with Xavier for at least a decade. That’s not counting the one year they lost contact because he went abroad to attend his scholarship. He threw his hands in a universal gesture of surrender before rolling his eyes and sipping his coffee, which tasted far too bitter and hot now.
“Well, I suppose good luck with that, then.”
—
“... Also, Mr. Baroque has requested a meeting to discuss the collaboration. Your only available slot this week is Friday at 4 o’clock. Shall I book this, Mr. Paxley, or reschedule for next week?”
Aamon could hear the internal voice deep within him groan. He was looking forward to that early clock out on Friday, with how long this week felt. Sure, he could ask Archie to rearrange the meeting to be scheduled for next week. But Aamon had already had his schedule full, even for next week, so squeezing in one more meeting would be painful. It was wiser to schedule it for this week while he had a slot open. But that meant he had to kiss that early Friday night with a whiskey on the rock goodbye…
He almost wanted to whine, but Aamon maintained his composure and smiled despite himself.
“Sure, please…”
“... Reschedule it for next week, Archie. Because my brother is all booked this Friday night, thank you so much.”
Aamon’s smile faltered as he glared at the door, revealing his younger brother, Gusion Paxley, with a wide grin across his face that showed just how much he was satisfied with himself.
That’s suspicious.
“Apologies, little brother, but I think Archie was referring to me when she spoke to Mr. Paxley,” he said flatly. Usually, he would be entertaining Gusion and their lovely brotherly banter. But he was having a bad day… no, a bad week , with all those meetings with the Board Directors and Commissary of the Paxley Group, which included their strict father and the nasty first uncle from his mother’s side. His mood still plummeted down the sewer, and it worsened with that cup of coffee that was a tad too sweet. He thanked his stars for not getting carried away and gave Archie a bonus last week because her perfect cup of coffee proved to be a happenstance, not an actual talent.
“Oh, I know. Because not in a million years would I voluntarily refer to myself as Mr. Paxley,” Gusion sing-songs. That’s even more suspicious. Gusion’s usual mode when near Aamon’s vicinity was either a frown or an irritated look. This was new, a change that Aamon suspected would cost him something. His sanity, most likely.
“But I know for a fact that you, Mr. Paxley Tightpants, are not free on Friday evening. You’re off the clock. Because you already have another plan.”
Willow Archibald, Aamon’s highly competent secretary, a super meticulous lady who loves her job and takes it seriously, scrunched her nose upon hearing Gusion’s enthusiastic declaration. She stared at her tablet, scanning Aamon’s calendar, and then she was leering at Aamon with a mild scandalous look as if Aamon was betraying her because he kept her in the dark about his Friday schedule.
Aamon had never betrayed his secretary. And he will not start now.
He cleared his throat. “ Gusion ,” he started in a pointed way that would let Gusion know that he was in trouble. “I clock out at 6 pm on Friday. As usual. And I do know that I do not have any plans on that day.”
“No, no, no, you do,” Gusion smiled. He typed something on his phone, and then a soft ping from Archie’s tablet was heard. She looked at the gadget, then raised an eyebrow. Gusion pointed a finger at Aamon, looking strangely cheerful. “You’re all booked because you have a date on Friday, with a super gorgeous handsome scientist that I was sure was far beyond your league, but he agreed to, anyway. A miracle date really.”
And then, he swiveled his chair to face Archie. His lips turned to show a smug grin while he narrowed his eyes. “And aren’t we so glad that our overworked Mr Paxley had finally allowed himself free time to indulge in personal matters? Like a date? Man, I wondered when the last time he actually went on a date. A fine bachelor like him. Unbelievable, right? We shouldn’t have such a rare occasion go to waste.”
At that, Aamon could feel his lips pressed thin. His patience, which was running low from all the unfortunate events he had experienced since the beginning of Monday, started to dry out like a drop of water in Agelta’s Drylands summer.
“Archie…”
“Absolutely, Mr. Paxley. I will be back in a bit,” his secretary said as she rushed outside. She nodded at Gusion as she walked past him but said nothing.
A wise decision, really. Because Aamon was… this close to combust.
But Gusion did not seem to share the same fear that his secretary was experiencing. The young man was now sitting in one of the guest chairs in Aamon’s room, humming an annoyingly cheesy love song that Aamon was sure was done to annoy him further.
“Gusion.”
“You’re welcome, big brother. I already attached the chat history and your date’s profile on that e-mail about the new calendar entry. Aamon glanced at his own laptop screen, which was showing his calendar for the rest of the week. True to Gusion’s word, there’s a new entry on Friday, blocked from 4 pm to 11 pm, titled “Date Night with Nataniel”.
A personal schedule. On his work calendar.
Aamon exhaled through his nose. His jaw clenched. His temples pulsed. And yet Gusion grinned on, unbothered.
“Gusion, what is this?”
“Something wonderful,” Gusion smiled. “I just booked you a date. Very kind of me, isn’t it? Considering how nasty you treated me as your younger brother. A brother of the year indeed, damn. I’m sure people would vote for me if such an award exists.”
Aamon could feel his head throbbed. “Did you just hack my e-mail, Gusion?”
“Now, hacking was a serious accusation, big brother. I do not possess the ability to do that. I’m shit with technology. Second…”
“So your IT guy boyfriend did that.”
“Now, leave Claude out of this,” Gusion said. “Also, it’s your own fault that you made your password easy to guess. The name of our first cat, really? I’m sure Senorita would be honored that she’s still dearly remembered. She must be wagging her tail now in the cat heaven or wherever they go after they leave this world…”
“Gusion Sebastien Paxley,” Aamon said sharply.
Now, that seemed to work. Gusion paused and flinched for a bit. He looked a bit scared for a second before putting his confident mask back up and smiling.
“What? And Why don’t I hear a thank you?” he said, calmer this time. “You gotta look at the profile of your date. He’s a very nice guy. His name is Nataniel—a scientist with a double degree who now works at Eruditio Company. Top-level, older than you, lives in a good part of the city, a true postcode envy kind of place. Not as luxurious as your penthouse, but still. Pretty cool. Also, according to Cici, he’s absolutely handsome and looks like your absolute type. See, I’m very thoughtful, if I say so myself.”
If Aamon were a lesser person, he would drop his jaw, combust and banish his brother from the family, and kick him to the curb without a single penny of his trust fund. But he liked to think that he had excellent control of his emotions, so he took a single deep breath to stave off his fury before he asked:
“Why?”
But because Aamon was also smart, he elaborated his question.
“Why do you think I would want a date? Why do you think I would want your help… oh,” he paused. “This is your attempt at getting back to me. For the other day, because I moved your boyfriend to the other department.”
Gusion flicked his fingers in a gotcha moment that Aamon begrudgingly allowed him to have.
“Brother, please, I’m not so petty,” he said, in the opposite way of his winning smile. “I just did it from the goodness of my heart. Because it looks like you’re being so stuck up your own ass that I thought maybe getting off every once in a while would make you… um… a nicer person? So yeah, I set up a dating app profile for you and curated some matches and bingo, you’ve got yourself a very nice date.”
At that, Aamon finally snapped. “You got me a date… from dating app?”
“Relax, it’s the best one out—”
“You petty little shi…”
“Language, old man,” Gusion raised his arm. “But seriously, I made an actual effort to make it as genuine and as you as possible. I even mimicked your whole ‘king of the realm’ persona. Nailed it, if I may say so. I think this man’s really great for you. I even asked Cici and Guinevere’s opinions before setting up a date. They approved. See? A very thorough, very thoughtful process on my end. You just gotta read the profile and show up.”
“You even told Cici and— Gusion ,” Aamon breathed out, trying his might not to flip the table at once. It’s glass. His favorite material for furniture. “You’re unbearable.”
“... Unbearably kind, and what can I say, it runs in the family,” Gusion said with a smug smile.
That little bastard.
“Anyway, I’ll send you his profile AND chat history. So you know what we were talking…”
“Gusion, get out.”
“... So don’t stand him up. He actually looked like a decent guy. As a Paxley, I’m sure you wouldn’t. But…”
“Gusion.”
“... or whatever. But if you’ve actually decided to do that out of spite, just know that I will not stop until you get laid or keep your hands away from my relationsh…”
“Get out. Now,” Aamon said, with a voice so sharp and loud.
Gusion scurried away from his room, his cheeky laugh echoed in the halls. At the same time, Aamon’s phone vibrated, indicating a new message from his bratty baby brother.
Resending this. Just in case. The booking was for 6. Be ready at 4, anyway.
Lightborn Hotel booking. From my own pocket money. You’re welcome.
Nataniel [Profile].pdf
Nataniel and Aamon [Chat History].txt
Thank me later ;)))
Aamon clicked open the Chat History file but closed it back as he saw his chat started with “Hi there sexypants ;)”
Aamon clicked the lock on his phone.
Oh, he’s going to get his brother back for this.
-
“Nataniel, you’re free tomorrow at 6 pm,” Xavier barged into his workroom. He placed one hand on Natan’s shoulder, the other held his phone, and his face was far too serious for anything good.
Natan placed his pen on the table, begrudgingly peeling his attention away from his reading report to meet Xavier’s gaze. “Is that a question, or did you just try to hypnotize me to say yes?”
“Either way’s work for me,” Xavier said with a smile. “I’ve already checked with that chick from work. Your dear junior, what was her name again…”
“Beatrix?”
“Yeah, I called Beatrix, and she said your schedule was clear until the weekend,” Xavier nodded, looking very proud of himself. “And you have nowhere else to go.”
Natan was mildly interested now. He closed the book and swiveled his chair to fully face Xavier now. “Since you’ve done a thorough job making sure that I’m free tomorrow, I guess I am, then,” he said. “I do have reports I’d like to finish for next week, but…”
“But you will finish it next week 'cause I’m setting you up on a date with this hot, young CEO of your manhwa dream,” Xavier said, patting Natan’s shoulder like he was proud of him. “Seven PM, at the restaurant in the Lightborn Hotel.”
Natan raised his brow, feeling slightly annoyed but mostly amused. “Wait, what?”
“Remember that dating app profile I set you up? This man, who you called a ‘not bad’, was inviting you to an actual date at The Lightborn Hotel!”
The white-haired man furrowed his brows, but then, something clicked in his brain. “That man? Are you serious?” he asked, mildly remembering the photo of a platinum-haired guy with a mild scar on his left cheek, wearing a platinum earring on one ear, tinted blue sunglasses, a nice dress shirt, and a smile that looked too good to be true. When Xavier nodded, Natan only chuckled. “I think you forgot the last part of what I said. He was not bad, but he’s definitely not real.”
Xavier rolled his eyes. “Still not believing your luck, I see.”
Xavier leaned on his side, his sharp, sapphire eyes locked on to him.
Oomph, it looked like it’s gonna be another long, long argument with him.
Natan grabbed his coffee mug, scrunching his nose when the taste of bitter, cold coffee hit his tongue. He got up from his chair, looking to reheat his coffee in the kitchen. If it’s going to be another long debate with Xavier, he could at least have it with coffee at the right temperature.
True to his suspicion, Xavier followed right behind him.
"Nate, listen to me."
Whoop, there it is.
“People don’t just lucked out, Xav," Natan said.
“They could. Fredrinn, for example. He got me wrapped around his calloused finger. I still can’t believe I date that buffoon. Don’t you think that’s an absolute proof of luck?”
Natan laughed. “That’s... actually a hard point to argue,” he said. “But no, he got you out of persistence, which I admired. Also, he’s kind of your type. Big everywhere, easy to control, could match your wits, and has just the right amount of sass. You two are just perfect together.”
Natan poured his coffee back into the pot, switching it on, and then he leaned on the counter, crossing his arms while staring at Xavier. He looked mildly annoyed, probably because Natan refused to play along with that blind dating game he had set up.
“Which brings us to the same situation here,” he said. “You don’t just luck out. I bring him to you. I made the actual effort to learn how you text, pretending to be you, and gauge as many information as I could in that conversation. He’s not gross, by the way. Not like the other profiles who just straight-up send you a picture of their dicks. Eww, punks,” Xavier shuddered, probably thinking back to the horrors he had to endure for the sake of getting Natan a boyfriend.
This gave Natan very mixed feelings. He was touched that Xavier would go to such lengths to help him, but he also felt like he was being treated like a charity case.
“He likes you, Nate, honest,” Xavier said. “Trust me on this. He’s a rare catch. A little bit cheesy in the flirty department, but it’s not something we can’t work on together later. He’s handsome. I have put your photos side-to-side. You’re gonna look good together. Plus, he’s head-over-heels about you.”
Natan scoffed. “Of course, he’s head-over-heels. He’s gonna scam the heck out of me.”
Xavier rolled his eyes. “You gotta stop questioning good things in life; you’re not that tragic, Nate,”
“Well, you did seem to see me as a tragic when you decided to play Cupid and find me a date against my will,” Natan said playfully. He even put on a smile, to avoid making his words sound too biting. “I’m not being pessimistic. I’m being realistic.”
Xavier scoffed. “And realistically, I think this is good karma because you’ve been a good friend and mentor, and whatever good things you do as a scientist and guest lecturer. The universe is bringing you a hot, nice, rich boyfriend-to-be," he leaned forward to show his phone screen. “Look, blue eyes that could freeze hell fire, jaws that could cut through glass, and platinum hair more luminous than silver. Dude, he’s a catch.”
Natan shrugged. “Precisely why that’s suspicious, Xav. A rich CEO who looks like that isn’t trawling some bargain-bin dating app for love. He’s probably getting marriage proposals in his email.”
Xavier opened his mouth but closed it again. He took a deep breath as if trying not to shake Natan to put some romantic thoughts in him physically.
But then, he let out a very long, very exasperated sigh. Like he was so close on giving up. Natan hid his lips behind his coffee mug, careful not to show his amusement in Xavier's attempt.
“Okay, how about you at least try to go with it?” Xavier said. A smile on his face, that looked like he was trying to be nice and patient, but deep down, he couldn’t wait to deck Natan. “Just go on that date, and if that man stands you up or… someone scammy showed up instead of this sexy beast of a man, then I’ll take full responsibility.”
“By doing what, exactly?”
“By getting you another less scammy date, of course!” Xavier huffed proudly. And because Natan did not rise to his bait, he finally huffed.
“Fine, by keeping my hands away from this dating app.”
Natan chuckled. “Hmm, that’s quite intriguing.”
“I will also be in the same restaurant. Me and Fred both. We will sit at a table that has a good vantage point to keep an eye on you. So if he’s doing something dangerous, we’ll interfere in a heartbeat.”
Natan crossed his arms, genuinely amused by Xavier’s goodwill. Despite Natan’s skepticism and protests, Xavier had made an account in Natan’s name, filling in Natan’s bio, his preferences, and even his photos. To his credit, this was actually really nice. Xavier liked to take and keep candid pictures of him on multiple occasions, a nice habit that proved beneficial in his current mission.
Xavier also asked Natan for his opinions to help with his conversation with his match throughout the week. He had requested Natan “gin and tonic or negroni” , “cats or dogs” , “glass or metal”, and much more random trivial stuff, which made Natan a bit wary about where the chat was going. Natan initially believed that the attempt at pairing him up with someone from the dating app would not provide a productive result. So, he allowed Xavier to do whatever he wanted. After all, it came from a good heart.
But well, it seemed to bring a productive result. The questionable nature of that result aside, Natan was actually intrigued.
Natan smiled. “Fine,” he said. “But if I get catfished, we drop this, okay?”
“Absolutely,” Xavier nodded, looking very pleased with himself.
Natan crossed his arms, amused. “Alright then—let’s hear it. Who is this mysterious rich CEO?”
The coffee pot whistled, and Natan paused to grab it and poured the now hot coffee back into his mug while Xavier enthusiastically sat on the chair and scrolled the chat.”
“His name is Aamon, 25 years old—”
“Twenty-five??? Xavier, I’m thirty-one! It’s like I’m dating a young—”
“Shush, let me finish,” Xavier glared at Natan, which effectively shutting him up, and continued. “He’s a CEO of a Tech Business. Probably a startup, judging by how he dressed. Anyway, he’s the busy type. He has a rigorous schedule but said he’d make time for you anytime. Cheesy. But it sounds like he’s into you, so I ignored it. He also likes cats, but he was devastated that his first cat died early, so he decided not to have another cat to avoid the heartbreak. See? Softy-feely man. Just like your type.”
Natan sipped his coffee before reacting. “Sure… but why did we talk about cats?”
“Because… you like cats?”
Natan gaped. “Dude! I’m mostly allergic to feline’s fur!”
“Wait, you do?” Xavier blinked. “How? You donated quite a generous amount to that street-feeding movement these past three years!”
“Because I love supporting Julian’s cause. And I do love cats, but not enough to keep them in the house,” Natan said. “I’d get runny nose. Remember that one time when you moved in with Miss Tabs? I don’t play with her much because I’d be sneezing nonstop.”
“Damn, I thought it was because you don’t like Miss Tabby scratching on your couch,” he winced. “Sorry, you replied to me quite a bit late when that conversation happened. I had to improvise from memory alone!”
Natan laughed. “It’s okay; I can correct it later,” he said, taking another sip of his coffee. “Go on.”
“Right. He likes whiskey on the rocks and thinks Negroni tasted weird, but since you really like Negroni, he wouldn’t mind tasting it off your tongue.”
At that, Natan couldn’t help but snort. “Gross.”
“It’s only gross if he’s ugly. But if he’s this hot? It’s sexy,” Xavier winked.
“I don’t know, man,” Natan leaned to his chair, sipping his coffee again. “He sounded like a creep.”
“A handsome, rich creep is called kinky, get over it.”
Natan scoffed. “If only he’s what he said he is.”
“Which he would. You know how good I am at sniffing bullshit. This man does not reek.”
Natan scoffed. “You say that, but you dated Fredrinn for… what, five years?”
“Hey, he’s an ass, but he got no bullshit,” Xavier said. “Besides, now I think of it, I thought Fredrinn was a bit of a creep too, back in the day. He got that Los Pecados Crass and Grandrock Sass. I still do, sometimes. But it doesn’t lessen his better qualities.”
Natan openly laughed now. Listening to Xavier complimenting and complaining about his fiance in one breath is always refreshing. But while he’s in that spirit, Natan decides to challenge him again.
Natan scoffed. “Said someone who calls me at 6 am complaining about Fredrinn hogging all the blankets.”
The ghost of Xavier's smile quickly disappeared either from remembering the experience or the fact that Natan was actually dishing back a jab at him instead of letting it slide like usual.
"But again, it’s Fredrinn . Who wouldn't complain about that ?" Xavier retorted.
"You didn't last night," Fredrinn suddenly appeared, waltzing down the stairs and pressing his lips to Xavier's cheek. "In fact, I could tell that you're thoroughly content with all of me."
"Piss off, asshole," Xavier hissed, pushing Fredrinn away furiously. But he got no real bite this time, probably because he was too much in the mood to persuade Natan to go on this… spectacular date , so to speak.
Fredrinn chuckled. “I suppose Xav had talked to you about that man he got for you from the app?”
Natan shook his head. “Dude, what is wrong with you? I can’t believe you allow your fiance to scroll through dating apps and ogle for guys nearby.”
“It’s cause I know it’s for you,” he said. Natan had to give it to the guy. He looked very confident that Xavier wouldn't be tempted to find another guy online. “Heck, I even helped curate the guys that we think would be a good match for you. But that aside, even if Xav’s interested and looks for someone for a three-way, I don’t think I would be against that idea–ouch!”
Fredrinn laughed when Xavier elbowed him.
"Fuck you," Xavier hissed.
"Anytime, any day, sweet gem," Fredrinn grinned, giving Xavier's nose a quick peck before shiting his attention back to Natan. “But dude, seriously, what’s the worst that could happen? If he’s a real swindler, we could have a blast making absolute fun out of that for the laughs later.”
Natan narrowed his eyes. It’s almost interesting how Xavier insisted it would NOT be a scam, but Fredrinn seemed to wish it was. It seemed like this couple would have much fun with Natan going on this… date.
But well, maybe they were right. There’s no harm in going. If it’s a scam, they would have something to laugh at for later, and Xavier would get off his case. But if it’s not a scam, then probably Natan would have a nice date, at least. Now he seriously thinks about it; like Xav said, he hadn’t been in one for years.
Maybe it's worth trying. Cause scam or not, they would all have their fun either way.
To hell with it , Natan thought. Maybe he could even spice it up a little.
“Fine, I’m going,” Natan laughed dryly. “But how about we make a bet? One grand each. I’d say this man is a total swindler.”
“Oh you’re on,” Fredrinn said. He leaned forward, looking far too invested than Xavier had been since he first developed the profile a week ago. “I’d say he’s a poser. You know, a scam, but not much of a criminal. Just some loser using someone’s photo to make him feel better about himself.”
“You freaking weirdos,” Xavier scoffed. “Am I the only one here who still trusts the miracles of heaven?”
“Mmm, I guess,” Fredrinn hummed. “I still find you hot, though, sexy bum.”
“Okay, no, not in front of my hot coffee, you fuckers,” Natan got up, walking away from the room as he shouted. “Please keep it down, this time.”
“Tomorrow, at six! Don’t be late!” Xavier yelled from the hall before Natan slammed the door behind him.