Work Text:
There is a candle on the table, and Colin watches it flicker while contemplating exactly where the line of fanciness is between restaurants with candles on the tables and restaurants with candleless tables. Isaac is chattering on about something in the way that he only seems to do when he and Colin are alone, but Colin is having a difficult time focusing on what his best friend is saying, because he’s so fixated on the damn candle.
And the dimness of the restaurant.
And the snug, U-shaped booth they’re sitting in, that has resulted in them sitting right next to each other instead of across from each other like they usually do.
And, well, how cozy and romantic this place is compared to the restaurants he and Isaac typically frequent.
Isaac must be auditioning the restaurant for a date, Colin decides. It’s a fairly well known fact at AFC Richmond that this is a thing Isaac likes to do—he’d once very solemnly informed the team that the ambiance of a restaurant is essential to how well a first date goes, and sometimes you need to visit the restaurant before the date to ensure the “vibrations ’n whatnot” are appropriate for the mood you want to set. The rest of the team looked somewhat shellshocked at how thoughtful and verging on woo-woo their captain was, but Colin wasn’t.
Isaac talked like that to him all the time when they were alone.
Colin isn’t the type to begrudge his friends happiness. He’s noticed a shift in Isaac over the last several months, and that shift points to Isaac being more interested in finding a solid relationship than continuing his typical pattern of brief flirtations at a club or one-night stands. And Colin wants that for Isaac, because he always wants Isaac to be happy and fulfilled.
Besides, Colin has been feeling that same pull for something meaningful and lasting. He’s sick of fumbled hookups in the dark corners of clubs and men who claim to be okay with the fact that Colin isn’t ready to be fully out yet but then grow tired of spending most of their nights in and only going out in public as friends.
He wants to be cherished and loved and cared for. He wants to be wined and dined and romanced; no man he’s dated has ever put much effort into finding ways to spoil Colin in a way that didn’t make him anxious about being outed. It’s made him feel less-than, like he’s not worth the effort.
He’d even told Isaac as much a few weeks ago after drinking just enough to loosen his tongue and spill his heart out to his best friend. They’d been sitting on Colin’s couch in the near darkness of his living room, forgotten game controllers and a parade of empty beer bottles littering his coffee table. Long nights of gaming together often ended up like this, with the two of them angled toward each other, being vulnerable with each other in a way neither of them can quite manage outside of the security of a dimmed room.
“Colin,” Isaac says, forcefully enough to make Colin suspect it’s not the first time Isaac’s tried to get his attention.
Colin tears his gaze away from the candle and glances up at Isaac, a fresh wave of longing pinching at his heart. He wants Isaac to be happy with whatever girl that he’s intending to take to this restaurant on a real date, he really does. He just doesn't want to be the one doing the trial run. Despite their closeness, Isaac has never dragged Colin along on date recon before, and Colin desperately wishes he hadn’t started now.
Colin’s been spending long hours with Dr. Sharon, trying to get his feelings for Isaac under control and learning to deal with the fact that his love will never be reciprocated in the way he really wants. Even now, sitting in this cozy candlelit booth, his brain is doing double time to remind himself that he’s not a bad person or friend for wanting something more than Isaac can offer and that Isaac’s straightness isn’t an indicator of Colin’s worthiness of love—or lack thereof. (Dr. Sharon would be disappointed in him for adding that last bit, but he figures they can work through that at his next session.)
“Hmm?” Colin says finally. “Sorry, boyo, what was that?”
“I said,” Isaac says, a little fumblingly, “you look right fit tonight.” He tries to make eye contact with Colin but doesn’t quite manage it.
Colin feels himself flushing slightly at the praise despite his confusion; Isaac isn’t one to generally comment on his friends’ appearances. “Thank you,” he says slowly. “So do you.”
It’s true. Isaac looks gorgeous, his bulging muscles straining at his shirt sleeves, powerful thighs showcased nicely in dark wash jeans. But to be fair, Colin always thinks Isaac looks gorgeous, whether dressed to the nines or disheveled in trackies or sporting a velvet Santa outfit that is hotter than it has any right to be. (Oh god, he has to stop thinking about the Santa outfit before his body reacts in a way that’s not appropriate for a boy’s night with his best mate.)
A flash of something unfamiliar works its way over Isaac’s face at the compliment, and the smile Isaac flashes at him makes Colin’s heart stutter a bit. There’s something special, Colin thinks, about earning a smile from somebody as stoic—and let’s be frank, scowly—as Isaac McAdoo. When you’re accustomed to seeing somebody straight-faced all the time, a smile feels more special, more earned. Or it could just be that Colin thinks Isaac is beautiful, and that feeling is only intensified when he smiles. It’s definitely one of the two.
Isaac leans into Colin slightly, nudging him gently with his shoulder, and Colin actively has to stop himself from sighing happily at the contact. Their food arrives then, the server sliding their plates in front of each of them, and they’re quiet for a few minutes as they dive in.
“Wanna bite?” Isaac asks, gesturing to his meal with his fork.
Colin shrugs. “Sure.” It’s not entirely uncommon for them to share food, and Isaac’s pasta looks amazing; Colin had almost ordered it himself. He stabs his fork into the noodles and pops it into his mouth, unable to stifle the happy sound that escapes him as he chews.
“Good, innit.” Isaac says.
“Mmhmm,” Colin agrees. “Better’n mine for sure. Should have ordered this meself.”
Without a word, Isaac reaches over, picking up Colin’s plate and swapping it with his own.
“No, Isaac, that’s not what I meant,” Colin insists, reaching to grab his plate back.
“Don’t mind,” Isaac says. “You know I’ll eat just about anythin’. ‘Sides, you should have the meal you like most. You deserve the best, Colin.” He says the last bit somewhat shyly, peeking up through his lashes at Colin in a way that he’d interpret as flirtation from just about anyone else.
The thought makes Colin’s heart squeeze again, and he clears his throat roughly to dispel the feeling. “You don’t have to flirt with me, ya know,” he says in a way that’s meant to be joking but comes out a bit more brusque than he intends.
Isaac cocks his head, looking a bit like a confused puppy, and it’s so cute Colin can hardly stand it. “You don’t flirt on a date, bruv?”
Colin chokes out a laugh. “I mean, I do, but you don’t have to flirt on a practice date. Save it for the real thing, boyo.”
Isaac’s confusion deepens. “What do you mean, ‘the real thing?’”
Now Colin is confused, and he’s growing increasingly flustered. “Isn’t this—aren’t you checking this place out to see if it’s good enough to bring a girl here on a date?”
Isaac just stares at him for a second, disbelief on his face. “Colin, no. I—we’re on a date. Right now. You and me. Thought you knew that?”
“How would I know this was a date?” Colin squeaks, a mess of emotions battling within him.
“I picked you up!”
“You pick me up all the time!” Colin defends. “You always say you don’t trust me to drive, so I should just ride with you.”
“That is true,” Isaac agrees solemnly. “Can’t have you dinging up that beautiful ride.” He pauses. “Or yourself,” he adds almost as an afterthought. Colin rolls his eyes, but Isaac ignores it and continues on. “But this time, I picked you up all date-like.”
“What does that even mean?” Colin says, exasperated. “How was I meant to know this was a ‘date-like’ pickup and not a normal one?”
“I’m wearing a shirt with buttons!” Isaac says, equally exasperated. “So many tiny buttons, bruv!”
Colin had noticed—of course he’d noticed!—that Isaac was dressed somewhat more formally than he normally would when the two of them grabbed dinner. But at the time, he’d chalked it up to one of Isaac’s not-infrequent style experimentation phases, and after arriving at the restaurant and assuming this was a trial run, he figured Isaac needed to wear date clothes to be able to fully measure the acceptability of a restaurant or some shit.
“Okay,” Colin says slowly, heart pounding. “Isaac … I didn’t even know you’re into lads, so again, how was I meant to know it was a date?”
“I’m not into lads,” Isaac says, as though everything he’s saying is perfectly obvious. “I’m into you. I … I think I have been for a long time, but just didn’t understand what I was feeling, yeah? An’ I didn’t know if you thought ‘bout me like that, but then you said that thing ‘bout wanting to be wined and dined an’ I thought it was you hintin’ that you wanted to go on a date with me.”
Colin takes a minute to congratulate himself for still breathing after that speech. “Oh,” is all he can manage to say.
Isaac’s expression changes then, shuttering after being so open and genuine. He shrinks back away from Colin a little. “Did I get it wrong?” He asks, voice uncharacteristically small and unsure. “Do you—do you not wanna be on a date with me?” He doesn’t meet Colin’s eye, choosing instead to inspect the tablecloth very closely.
“No!” Colin explodes, needing to shut that shit down right quick. Hurt washes over Isaac’s face, and Colin realizes his mistake, so he quickly goes on. “No, I don’t not want to be on a date with you.”
Colin can practically see Isaac’s brain frantically trying to count the negatives in the sentence and figure out which ones cancel each other out. He has to laugh a bit at how properly he’s managing to fuck this up, and reaches out to grab Isaac’s hand. “Yes, Isaac, I wanna be on a date with you. I’ve wanted to be on a date with you for a very long time.”
Isaac absolutely beams at Colin, and Colin’s pretty sure he beams right back. “Yeah?” Isaac says, scooting closer to Colin.
“Yeah,” Colin confirms. “Figure I’m mostly in love with you”—a gross understatement if there ever was one, but this was a first date after all—”so going on a date sounds pretty nice.”
“Figure I’m mostly in love with you too,” Isaac says quietly, cupping Colin’s cheek in his hand and bringing him in for a kiss.
It’s softer, sweeter than Colin would have imagined a first kiss with Isaac to be—not that he’s imagined this a million times or anything—and it’s perfect. They’re in public, so they can’t get too hot and heavy, but Colin allows himself to be pressed up against Isaac for a few minutes longer than he normally would risk. The booth is tucked away in the back of the restaurant, secluded and dim enough that he’s not that worried about being recognized, so he lets Isaac kiss him, and he kisses Isaac right back.
They finally break apart, both grinning like idiots. Isaac scoots in closer to Colin so that their thighs are pressed together as he picks his fork back up and digs into what was previously Colin’s meal. “Kissin’ and datin’ ’s hard work, bruv” he says. “Makes a growin’ boy hungry.”
Colin can’t help but laugh at Isaac being so utterly himself despite having just made out while on a date that Colin only recently learned was a date. “Well, you’d better eat up then,” he says, “since I intend to do lots of kissing and dating.”
“Mm,” Isaac grunts in agreement. “’Cept from now on, we’ll both know it’s a date, yeah?”
Colin laughs again. “Yes, Isaac, I don’t think we’ll have that particular misunderstanding again.”
Isaac smiles, leaning in to kiss Colin quickly as though he couldn’t help himself. “Perfect,” he says, and they both turn back to their food to continue their date.