Work Text:
Edmond shifts in his seat, glancing out the window at the people passing by on the sidewalk. One woman pulls her scarf over her nose and mouth to shield from the cold. A man jogs by with a golden retriever at his heels. Edmond's eyes linger on the person at the street corner, trying to see if he can decipher from their lips what they might be saying over the phone. He's doing everything he can not to stare at the redhead standing in line at the counter.
He had been embarrassed enough asking Dante to come here together. They don't have a lot of time for dates, both of then usually so wrapped up in their work that the small moments they have together are precious— Edmond usually saves them for cuddling in bed.
But he heard down the grapevine at work about this gourmet cafe-patisserie, which is usually swamped before he goes to work and closed by the time he's out. The only possible time he could go is on a day off, which means he had to convince Dante to tag along.
His partner looks incredibly out of place, towering above the rest of the queue, arms crossed over his chest and a stern look on his face. Edmond himself can't help feeling out of place as well, amidst the establishment's usual clientele— mostly young women and their companions.
Dante had insisted Edmond find them a table while he ordered— when Edmond hesitated, very particular about his sweets, Dante gave him a confident grin. "I know you," he said.
And so, Edmond is leaving him to it. Though he can't help craning his neck, trying to sneak a peek at what Dante's decided to order. He watches the employee pass Dante a tray, spots something red and a lot of whipped cream— and as Dante approaches, Edmond's mouth gapes open.
"Dante—" he scolds. "I asked you to get us each one thing. This is way too much," Edmond laughs in disbelief.
Dante huffs haughtily, pleased that he managed to surprise him. Spread out between them is a strawberry tart, a heaping cream puff, a pot of custard, a delicate slice of chocolate Swiss roll— not the whole menu, but certainly more than Edmond had been expecting. And it's accompanied by steaming cups of coffee, Edmond's incredibly light-colored and Dante's a distinct black.
"I love strawberries," Edmond says, trying to guess Dante's motivation for buying all the items he did. "I can't have dessert without whipped cream. The custard is for texture variety. And you can't have a spread of sweets without a little chocolate." His cheeks already ache from his sickeningly fond smile.
"Of course," Dante says.
Edmond picks up a fork, hovering it over his options. He goes for a bit of cream first, swiping it from the side of the cream puff. He groans around his utensil.
"Good?" Dante asks, leaning back in his chair and bringing his coffee to his lips.
Edmond nods. "Just as amazing as I imagined. Thank you, Dante. You really didn't have to go all out like this."
Dante shrugs. "It's nothing," he says, but the pleased smile on his face tells Edmond that he's enjoying the praise.
They had come a long way from the two bickering young men they'd been when they'd met at university. And while not every day together was as blissful as this— they'd had their fair share of frustrations with each other, nights where they were both too exhausted to even speak— there was something wonderful about being known by another person like this. Being seen. Both of them were the type to build high emotional walls. Edmond, since the loss of his first love, feared vulnerability. He was desperately afraid of giving all of himself to someone else, only to have them leave him in the end. But each and every day together, Edmond was more and more glad he let Dante know him.
"It's not nothing," Edmond says, spearing a bit of Swiss roll with his fork. "Here, I won't be able to eat these all by myself," he says, extending it towards Dante.
"You will," Dante says, because he knows Edmond is lying.
"Maybe," Edmond admits. "But I want to share with you." He holds the bite of dessert in front of him.
Dante allows Edmond to feed him. He hums around the bite, nodding in approval.
And Edmond knows he'll act like he doesn't want any more, but will gladly lean forward to accept another forkful once Edmond offers it.