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Sebastian tugged at the collar of his shirt, resisting the urge to unbutton the top button. He felt oddly stiff and formal, probably overdressed for the occasion. As he trudged up the pavement toward the little Italian place Garreth had insisted on, he wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he had gotten himself into.
Garreth Weasley, perpetual meddler and self-proclaimed matchmaker, had been pestering him for weeks. You’ve got to get out more, mate. Meet someone new, stop brooding over everything. Brooding. As though working long hours at the firm and occasionally drinking with friends qualified as brooding.
He’d refused every setup until Garreth had shoved his phone in his face one evening at the pub. “Just look at him,” Garreth had said, smirking like the cat who’d caught the canary. And Sebastian had looked.
Sharp cheekbones. A sweep of pale hair that fell just so, as though it had been coaxed into place by invisible hands. A crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to the elbow, collarbones hinting at structure beneath. Even in the casual snapshot, there’d been something impossibly clean, elegant, untouchable.
Sebastian’s mouth had gone dry, and he might have stared a second too long. Long enough for a satisfied, smug grin to spread across Garreth’s face.
“On the other hand,” Garreth said slyly, slowly moving his phone away, “maybe Ominis isn’t really your type …”
“No, wait!” Sebastian blurted before he could stop himself. He immediately cringed when Garreth’s smirk ramped up to intolerable levels. Scowling, Sebastian dragged a hand through his hair as though he could physically claw his dignity back into place. “I mean — fine. He’s… decent. Attractive enough, I guess.” He forced a lazy shrug, leaning back in his chair with manufactured indifference. “If you’re into the whole ‘ethereal, devastating jawline’ thing.”
Garreth actually cackled, the bastard. “So that’s a yes.”
“It’s a maybe,” Sebastian shot back, pointing a warning finger at him. “And only because you’ll keep badgering me if I say no. That’s all.”
Garreth leaned back, folding his arms, the picture of smug victory. “Right. Totally. Has nothing to do with you practically drooling on my phone.”
Sebastian flipped him off. “You’re an awful friend, do you know that?”
“Best awful friend you’ll ever have,” Garreth said cheerfully. “Just remember that when I’m best man at your wedding.”
Sebastian groaned. “It’s one date, you bloody menace. We’re not getting married. And even if we were, you wouldn’t be my best man.”
Garreth gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. “Excuse me? Who else would you even pick?”
“I don’t know,” Sebastian muttered, scrambling, “maybe Amit?”
Garreth snorted. “Oh, brilliant. He’d probably give a speech about how the stars aligned on your birthdays, proving you and Ominis were cosmically destined. You’d be stuck listening to astrological charts instead of vows.”
Sebastian tried to glare, but the effort fell flat; his pulse was still hammering, the image of pale hair and sharp cheekbones burned stubbornly in his mind. He shook his head, feigning casual. “Fine. Whatever. One date.”
Garreth’s grin turned positively wicked. “Knew you’d cave.”
And now he was here, running a hand through his hair, tugging at that damn shirt collar again, and pushing through the heavy wooden doors of the restaurant.
The low hum of chatter and clink of cutlery hit him first. Warm lighting pooled over linen-covered tables, casting everything in a golden haze. He scanned the room, trying to act casual even if his stomach fluttered.
And there he was.
Ominis.
Sitting at a corner table, posture perfectly straight, head turned slightly as though he’d been waiting.
The photo hadn’t lied. The man seated at the table looked like he’d walked straight out of a period drama. Smooth blond hair combed neatly, posture effortlessly elegant, features so sharp they could cut glass. He wore a dark jacket over a pale shirt, simple but expensive-looking, like he’d been born into this sort of refinement. Sebastian’s mouth watered again.
Squaring his shoulders, he strode over. “Ominis?”
The man turned his head toward him, lips curving faintly. “Sebastian?”
“Guilty,” Sebastian said, letting a grin spread across his face as he slid into the chair opposite. “Glad to see Garreth didn’t catfish me. I was half expecting to show up and find his cousin waiting.”
Ominis huffed a small laugh, low and amused. “I can assure you, I’m very real, and very unrelated to Garreth.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Sebastian replied easily. “Would’ve been a shame if I’d dressed up for nothing.” He gestured down at himself with mock flourish. “Can’t waste this level of effort on just anyone.”
“I’ll count myself honored, then.”
Sebastian leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. “You should. I’ve been told I clean up dangerously well.”
Ominis tilted his head, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Dangerously?”
“Hazard to society levels, really,” Sebastian shot back, eyes glinting. “Women swoon, men despair, small children cry. It’s chaos, truly.”
That earned a soft laugh, genuine and warm, and something about the sound settled in Sebastian’s chest. Encouraged, he pressed on.
“So, Garreth told me next to nothing about you. Said you’d ‘find out on your own,’ which, honestly, sounded ominous. No pun intended.” Sebastian winced. “Okay, pun intended, but only after I realized I’d said it.”
“Creative,” Ominis said flatly, though his lips betrayed the faintest curve.
“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all evening.” Sebastian gestured at the table with exaggerated flourish. “But seriously. Tell me something about yourself. Hobbies? Secret talents? Something scandalous I can hold over you later?”
“You’re very forward,” Ominis observed, folding his hands neatly on the table.
Sebastian shrugged, smiling crookedly. “Better than boring. So?”
There was the smallest pause, then Ominis said, “I play piano. Classical, mostly. I suppose that counts as both a hobby and a talent. Not terribly scandalous, though.”
“Not scandalous, but definitely attractive,” Sebastian said before he could stop himself. “Piano, I mean. That’s… elegant. Fits you, honestly.”
Ominis tilted his head at that, like he was assessing whether Sebastian was teasing. “And what about you?”
Sebastian grinned, seizing the opening. “Oh, you know. I’m a man of many talents. I can cook exactly three edible meals, fall asleep anywhere within five minutes, and beat anyone at Mario Kart.”
“Impressive résumé.”
“Thank you, I pride myself on it.” Sebastian leaned forward conspiratorially. “Though the cooking thing? That’s mostly out of necessity, because Garreth’s idea of dinner is something flammable drowned in whisky.”
Ominis actually laughed at that. The sound sent a ridiculous rush of warmth through Sebastian’s chest.
He couldn’t help cataloguing every little detail: the elegant line of Ominis’ throat when he tilted his head back, the faint dimple when he smiled, the way his hands moved; slender fingers tapping once on the table, restless, before going still again.
“You know,” Sebastian said, letting his gaze linger, “your eyes are so captivating.”
Ominis paused, a peculiar smile ghosting over his face. For a second Sebastian wondered if he’d gone too far. But then Ominis gave a small chuckle, almost ironic. “Well. Thank you.”
Sebastian grinned, heat sparking low in his stomach. So Ominis was a bit shy, then. That explained why he never really met his gaze. Most people wilted under direct eye contact, but Sebastian liked it. It felt like he had the upper hand, and maybe, just maybe, it meant Ominis found him a bit disarming.
The conversation carried on.
“So, tell me,” Ominis said, fingers curling loosely around his glass of water. “What convinced you to let Garreth meddle in your love life?”
Sebastian feigned a dramatic sigh. “Blackmail. He threatened to expose my embarrassing karaoke habits to the entire office.”
“Do you have embarrassing karaoke habits?” Ominis asked, brow lifting.
“Absolutely not,” Sebastian said. “But he thinks I do.”
Ominis’s smile widened, and Sebastian felt a thrill of triumph. God, it was nice, watching the faint curve of those lips deepen because of something he said.
Just then, the waitress appeared at their table, two laminated menus tucked under her arm. She smiled, setting one down in front of Sebastian and one in front of Ominis.
“Here you go. Can I get you gentlemen started with something to drink besides water?”
Sebastian reached for his, flipping it open automatically. He glanced up, already halfway to making some joke about the absurd number of cocktail options, when Ominis’ voice cut in.
“Sorry, do you have a braille menu?”
Sebastian froze.
The waitress blinked, then nodded quickly. “Oh, of course, right away.” She whisked the menu back up with an apologetic smile before bustling off. Sebastian, though, barely noticed this. His brain was short-circuiting, like someone had unplugged it and jammed the cord back in. Braille.
Oh.
Oh, God.
He felt like an actual idiot, but he hadn’t realised that when Garreth said he was setting him up on a blind date, he had meant an actual blind date.
His jaw worked uselessly, words refusing to form as his brain replayed every tiny detail of the evening like a humiliating highlight reel.
The way Ominis had tilted his head instead of looking at him directly. How his pale grey eyes never quite landed where Sebastian’s were. The subtle movement of his hands earlier, fingertips brushing across the tablecloth, the rim of the water glass, the careful sweep that Sebastian had assumed was just nervous fidgeting.
God, he was such an idiot.
Ominis shifted slightly, sensing the silence. His lips quirked. “What? Having a hard time choosing your appetizer?”
Sebastian didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His brain was still a tangled mess of braille, blind, holy hell, how did I not notice—
Ominis frowned faintly. “What?”
And before he could stop himself, Sebastian blurted, “You’re blind.”
The words landed between them like a dropped plate. Ominis’s brow arched, elegant, unimpressed. “Yes. Did you realise that just now?”
Sebastian gaped. He must have looked like a complete moron, sitting there with his mouth half open.
Ominis’s lips parted in disbelief, then pressed together as his expression shifted from bemused to incredulous. “Oh my god. Did you ... just realise it? Didn’t Garreth tell you?”
Sebastian’s hands flew up, helpless. “He just said you’re super intelligent, hot as hell and a bit posh!” he explained a bit desperately.
The moment he said it, he wished he could claw the words back down his throat. Because he saw it instantly: the stiffening of Ominis’s shoulders, the way that faintly amused coolness slid behind an invisible wall.
“Right,” Ominis said flatly, tone suddenly sharp. “Let me guess. This is the part where you try to politely excuse yourself with a half-arsed family emergency or something equally transparent.”
Sebastian’s gut lurched. No, no, no. He’d been blindsided — no pun intended — but the thought of the date ending so soon made his stomach twist in an unpleasant way. He leaned forward urgently, palms splayed on the table as though anchoring himself.
“No! I mean — I just — God, I feel like an idiot.” He shoved a hand through his hair, heat creeping up his neck. “I didn’t realize. Which is — that’s not a bad thing, by the way! It’s just — I’m sitting here thinking you’re shy or aloof or whatever, and meanwhile you’ve been — God, I should’ve put it together sooner.”
Ominis’s expression remained cool, guarded, lips pressed thin.
Sebastian’s words tumbled out in a rush, desperate. “Listen, I really like you. This has been great so far, honestly. I just … hell, I’ve been sitting here complimenting your eyes like some insensitive jerk, and meanwhile you probably thought I was making some kind of sick joke.”
Ominis tilted his head slightly, unreadable.
“I’m sorry,” Sebastian said, softer this time, sincerity cutting through the panic. “I didn’t know, and I reacted like an ass. But I don’t want to leave, Ominis. Blind or not, I don’t care. I would really like to continue our date.”
Silence stretched between them. Ominis’s fingers tapped lightly against the tablecloth, the only movement betraying thought. His posture was still wary, guarded like he was bracing for the inevitable brush-off.
Then the waitress reappeared, breaking the tension. She set down a small braille menu in front of Ominis with a polite smile. “Here you go. Take your time.”
“Thank you,” Ominis said evenly, though his shoulders remained taut.
Her gaze flicked between them. “Would you like me to take your orders now, or do you need a few minutes?”
Sebastian hesitated, glancing at Ominis. He couldn’t tell if Ominis was seconds away from calling the whole thing off, so he held his tongue and let him decide.
“We’ll need a few minutes, thank you,” Ominis said, polite but firm.
The waitress nodded and slipped away, leaving the two of them alone again.
Sebastian let out a slow breath. The date wasn’t over. At least not yet. He’d dug himself into a hole, sure, but if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was claw his way back out with charm and humor.
“Well,” he said after a beat, forcing a rueful grin, “I guess I didn’t need to spend an hour agonizing over the color of my tie then.”
That earned it; a small, reluctant tug of Ominis’s mouth as he browsed through his own menu.
Sebastian pounced on it, relief blooming in his chest. “Honestly, you’ve spared me. Do you know how many shades of navy there are? Too many. I thought Garreth was going to strangle me when I called him and asked which colour you’d prefer. Which, in hindsight,” he mused, more to himself, “I should have realised something was up when he just laughed in my face and told me it wouldn't matter much to you.”
A soft laugh slipped out of Ominis, quiet but genuine this time.
Sebastian’s shoulders loosened a fraction. He leaned back in his chair, smile gentler now. “See? I’m still here. Not running for the hills. And if you’ll let me, I’d really like to pick up where we left off. You know, with me dazzling you into submission.”
Ominis rolled his eyes, but the tension in his posture eased just enough. “You are quite confident,” he remarked dryly.
“Well,” Sebastian said, grinning, “I happen to be on a very nice date with the possibly hottest man I’ve ever seen, and I was really close to mucking it all up and am doing my best to salvage it, so right now, I think boldness and flattery are my safest options.”
There was another quiet huff of laughter. Sebastian was pleased to notice how Ominis’ cheeks were tinted a faint pink as his fingers skimmed over the raised dots on his menu.
When the waitress returned and repeated her question about their drinks, Ominis asked if Sebastian would be open to splitting a bottle of wine. Sebastian inwardly let out a relieved breath; Ominis was giving him another chance. And from the way the corner of his mouth lifted as Sebastian fumbled through the pronunciation of a very expensive, very French wine, it felt as if the date wasn’t beyond salvaging after all.