advienne que pourra
FKA: Meet Cuties (female!reader x eventual poly!141)
Part Seventeen - nice and pretty
Previous | Series | AO3 | Tips | Next Summary: Simon agrees to help you out and in turn enlists Kyle's help to make sure he fits the bill. CW: mdni, medical inaccuracies complete CW
"You're supposed to tell me not to laugh!"
Simon couldn't help it. It feels out of character for him, everything about this moment feels out of character. Sitting in a cafe drinking a lavender London fog latte, catching up with a friend and giving them a gift. A gift he had made himself. A friend he had made himself. A friend who wasn't in the military, wasn't first tied to him by duty, but by something else, something more human.
"Old ladies said I should knit a better one. Said this one was pure shite."
"You talk about me with your old lady friends," you tease, pulling the hat down over your ears. Its a bit scratchy, and far too warm for the weather, but you don't take it off.
It makes Simon feel something he can't identify when he realizes that you're keeping it on despite it being pure shite.
"One of 'em's from the library. Says she'll keep my secret."
Simon hadn't planned on being recognized by anyone at the knitting club when he signed up, what were the odds that one of the old ladies would be one of the patrons from the library, the nosey kind that was in everyone's business, including yours. So when Simon had walked in she had pointed a crooked finger at him and claimed she knew him.
That had been enough for the other women to drop their hackles, apparently little old ladies with knitting needles were more suspicious than Simon had thought.
"Oh does she? Is it Dotty, please tell me it's Dotty?"
Simon begrudgingly tells you about the class, about stabbing himself with the knitting needles, the women teaching him how to do it properly. They had held him hostage after the meeting, giving him tips, feeding him cookies and tea, and asking him about his life. He had had to very quickly shut down their attempts at matchmaking, one too many single granddaughters had been mentioned.
He had expected push back when he told them he had a boyfriend, in his experience that generation wasn't known for being accepting or understanding. But the old ladies had continued to surprise him when one of them pulled up pictures of her granddaughter and her wife, the smiling brides in their matching suits on their wedding day.
Simon hadn't told anyone else about the meeting. Or was it a club? But you knew because you were the one who told him about it. And when it was over, when he had agreed to come back the next week, he found himself wanting to tell you about it.
When you had texted him asking if he was free to join you for a work event as a favor his gut reaction had been to say no. Then he thought about everything you had done for Johnny and him, and it was hard to say no. So instead he agreed to hear you out, suggesting that you get tea, even looking up a new spot to check out, one not so close to the library.
"Tell me about the favor," he says after he feels like you have gotten enough anecdotes about old women from him.
You freeze, tea halfway to your mouth. You had been the one to ask him for the favor, so why were you the one who looks uncomfortable.
"Ugh, you can say no, I can probably find someone else. And it's not a big deal," you start, but then you frown. "Okay, it is a big deal. It's this gala for work, and all of the librarians are required to go. And apparently its like a rule that I need a date and if I don't find one my boss is going to make me go with her stupid fucking son."
"Wot's wrong with the son?"
You roll your eyes, "whats not wrong with him. Pompous, arrogant, thinks the world revolves around him. All the other librarians warned me to get a date otherwise I would be trapped with him."
Simon doesn't like the sound of him.
"And ya think I'm a better date?"
You look nervous, fingernail picking at the sticker on your drink, peeling it away from the plastic cup in little strips.
"I mean, you're not the only person I asked, but the other guy said no and the other other guy I haven't asked because I'm trying to be just friends with him, or take it slow. Its not really working out," you explain.
"Why not go with 'im?"
"It's complicated, he's a catch for sure. It's a me thing."
You don't elaborate and Simon thinks that this is where a friend would ask for more.
"Wot's a you thing?"
There he did it.
You huff, taking another drink of tea before looking up with something that looks akin to sadness. But Simon doesn't know you to be a sad person, melancholy and unease seem out of place for you. Nervous and anxious, sure, but Simon was used to that response to him. He had spent years honing the ability to make people uneasy in order to get what he wanted, and when that didn't work flat out fear was always effective.
"Have I told you about my ex?"
Simon shakes his head, he doesn't remember you telling him about an ex, but then again, if you had mentioned it before when he was still wracked with worry over Johnny had he really been paying attention?
"God, this is embarrassing, honestly every time I tell the story I feel more and more stupid for not realizing how naive I was. Anyway, I met this guy in college, he was part of an exchange program, and we really hit it off. I decided to do my post grad here, followed him like a stupid little puppy."
"It happens," Simon offers, he would follow Johnny to the ends of the world and back.
"Yeah, but we were engaged, you know, to be married. And I should have seen it coming, the whole relationship was rotten long before he broke it off-"
"He broke it off?" Simon asks incredulous.
You laugh, "yes, said our goals were no longer aligned. Honestly, I think his family was a bunch of posh assholes who decided I wasn't good enough."
"Fucking cunt is wot 'e is. 's nothin' wrong with ya."
Your laugh is forced, but Simon can see some of the unease slipping away from the tension in your shoulders even though you still pick at the sticker on your drink.
"Doesn't change the fact that I had to start over when I thought I had my whole life set up, fancy new degrees, fancy new husband, the world was going to be my oyster. Then I had to really quickly pivot and find a job or I would lose my eligibility to switch to a work visa and the job I had lined up I had gotten through his family's connections. So I ended up here and don't get me wrong I love it, but, I just don't know if I am ready for anything right now. I don't want to lead the other guy on and then, I don't know, decide I'm really not ready for anything."
"So I'm safer?"
"Sure, you won't go falling in love with me," you say with a wink.
Simon rolls his eyes. He doesn't think it would be hard to fall in love with you.
"Same to you," he shoots back, smirking as your eyes go wide.
"I-I would never, oh my god Simon, shut up!" you bluster.
"Heh, I know I'm a catch."
"Shut up!"
Simon continues to smirk, he enjoys getting under you skin, it reminds him of the old days with Kyle and Johnny, only the jokes had been far more morbid, whispered over comms while dodging enemy fire. Simon wasn't sure you would appreciate his darker humor.
"Anyway, the only other thing is that you have to dress up, like tuxedo and bowtie dress up."
The last time Simon had attended something fancy enough for a suit he had been in his dress uniform, stiff, uncomfortable and out of his comfort-zone. Not that he thought a tuxedo would be any better, he had never bought a suit of his own. He would need help, advice on where to start. But it was the least he could do for you.
"Don't think this ugly mug can clean up nice and pretty?"
"You know what, actually, you're uninvited," you cross your arms over your chest and glare at him.
"Come on, love, I'm just teasin', don't mean nothin' by it. I can handle a tux, can rub elbows with a bunch of posh pricks. I'll wear my fancy mask."
"God, you're such a dick. I can text you the details, the invite has all the boring stuff. We can make our plans for getting there and whatever. We have to arrive together to sell the bit."
"And what bit is that?"
"That you are my friend, who is very dashing and handsome and charming, but more importantly a great reason for Peter to not talk to me."
"Y'think I'm handsome?"
"Shut up."
"Who's fuckin' idea was this conference," John grumbles, running a hand down his face. Dark circles mar the skin beneath his blood shot eyes. His glass of whiskey had already been refilled twice since the two men had sat at the kitchen table.
Simon laughs, "heard conferences are good for exposure."
"'e sounds like an idiot." John's words are slurred, a mixture of exhaustion and inebriation. "Not too late to come with."
"Got plans, can't cancel them."
That gets John's attention. He has to drag his eyes away from his notes, but when he does there is curious a glint to his gaze that Simon does not like.
"Is that so? Johnny's goin' to Scotland that weekend, Kyle was thinkin' about joinin' 'im."
"Babysittin' him."
"So you aren't stalkin' 'im when ya leave work early?"
"Ain't the only thing I'm up to, old man."
"Got secret friends ya didn't tell us about?"
Simon knows he means it as a joke, John's teasing him, but he's not wrong. Simon does have secret friends. You and the gaggle of old birds who fuss over him a couple times a week, a bunch of pensioners who have nothing better to do than knit and hover.
"Joined a club."
John types for a moment longer then freezes, brows furrowing as he takes in what Simon said.
"A club?" he repeats.
"A club, said I was goin' t'take up knittin', yeah? So I got off my ass and did it."
His former captain scrutinizes him, those steely blue eyes peering into his very soul like they can take him apart and find the answer to some kind of puzzle that isn't there. Simon's not sure what he finds, but John huffs out a laugh that sounds closer to panic than mirth.
"Never thought I'd see the day."
"Never thought I'd live long enough for hobbies, got t'start somewhere."
John nods thoughtfully, Simon knows neither of them had planned for this. This version of their future where they are playing house together, all four of them together, alive and for the most part whole. Simon can see the cracks though, he knows he needs to talk to Johnny. Tell him about the stalking, and about you and the library, but he's a coward.
The door to the house opens, the voices of Kyle and Johnny unmistakable. The two had left ages ago to pickup food and while Simon would never complain, it was hard not to worry.
"Wot's all this?" John asks, frowning at the numerous bags deposited on the table by the former sergeants.
"Food," Johnny says simply, opening bags and pulling out containers.
"Someone couldn't decide what he wanted to eat," Kyle teases with a warm smile.
It's innocuous and Johnny smiles back as if he agrees, but Simon knows him better than anyone. He sees that subtle shake in the Scots hand as he pulls back the lid on the steaming container of curry. Sees the way his brow furrows slightly as he looks over the food himself, his hand hovering with the spoon, waiting to serve himself but not sure where to start. To anyone else it would look like indecision, but Simon knows better.
"Sit, both of ya."
The command in Simon's voice still holds enough authority that the younger men sit in their seats without complaint. Simon stands and takes over, dishing them out plates of food, Kyle gets extra of the spicy curry while Johnny gets more of the black bean sauce and chicken. He serves himself and John as well, neither of them are particularly fussy about what they eat, spending that long in the service will do that to you.
Simon tucks in, happy to have something to do that isn't tell John about his many friends and his many hobbies. John is sober enough to know to drop it, a minor blessing Simon is sure.
"So," John starts, looking a bit nervous, "does anyone have any weekend plans?"
Kyle drops his fork, mouth slightly agape as he stares across the table at John. Simon's equally shocked, but Johnny doesn't seem to pick up on the moment, staring curiously at Kyle.
"Goan tae London tae see a specialist on Friday. Might kip with Ailsa."
"She's still in London?" Kyle asks.
"Aye, companies draggin' their feet, might be another month, yeah? My mam's been 'elping Donald with the wee ones. She'll be 'appy fer our 'elp when we visit."
"Y'know I love those kiddos. Fi still teething?"
"Aye, mam says shes a right menace, walkin' aswell. Got any plans?"
"Yeah, actually, I'm going on a date."
"Nae ye arnae!" Johnny points his fork at Kyle, chicken and all. The two men bickering back and forth about the truthfulness of the statement.
Simon's happy for Kyle, he needs something, something outside of this house and work, some bright thing to look forward too. And even when he tries to downplay the outing, claiming its a casual thing, a woman he met out with Harry, Simon is still happy. Johnny seems happy too, although his grin edges too close to mischievous, a glint in his eyes that Simon hasn't seen in ages. Hasn't seen since—
Best not to go down that path.
"I'm going to see Kate," John doesn't interrupt, his statement said in that offhand way of someone who is trying not to draw attention to themselves.
"Thought she was still stateside."
"Aye, but ya know Kate, goes where the job takes 'er."
Simon nods, Laswell was more of a workaholic than John, but as far as Simon knew John hadn't seen her since they first moved out here. The ink on their retirements still drying, Johnny still in the hospital at that point. It had almost taken a year to get everything settled, for Laswell to work her magic, to ensure their departure from the military was favorable. Those last missions had been a haze of grief and anger, Simon wasn't proud of what he had done, but he had done it all for Johnny. He had been around long enough to know that there was nothing they could do to truly make the world a safer place, but their part of the mission, the 141's part of the mission, had come to an end.
"If anyone should be retiring it's Laswell, done more than enough," Kyle says.
"Aye, make sure tae tell 'er she's always welcome 'ere. Was off mah arse last time she came 'round," Johnny adds, yawning wide at the end.
"Busy day Tav?"
"Aye, docs orders, got tae keep mah nut active."
Simon won't push and if Kyle thinks there's anything going on he doesn't push either. Instead they both wish the Scot goodnight when he pushes away from the table, John grumbling something without looking up from his laptop that has replaced his food.
"Help with the dishes?" Simon stands, grabbing containers and plates, knowing Kyle will follow.
There's not much to actually clean, but Simon starts in on the dishes while Kyle puts away the leftovers, taking over drying once that's done.
"What d'you know about tuxedos?" Simon doesn't look over, he keeps his hands moving as he waits for Kyle to answer.
"Probably more than you, no offense, mate, you're not the most fashion forward bloke."
Simon shrugs, didn't need to worry about fashion or trends or anything like that when he had spent most of his adult life in a uniform.
"Need a tux for an event."
"Going to tell me more about the event?"
"Negative."
Kyle laughs, tossing the dish rag down on the counter and turning to lean against the edge so he can watch Simon as he finishes the dishes.
"But you need to wear a tux?"
"Affirm."
"Well, you're a bit too broad for off the rack, you'll definitely need to get it tailored. When do you need it by?"
"Three weeks."
"You're shitting me?"
"No."
Kyle closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and then letting it out slowly before turning to Simon.
"That is not a lot of time. I might have to call in a favor for you. You think you can play hooky tomorrow?"
Simon thinks it over. He doesn't have any site visits tomorrow, and as far as he can remember no calls. He would probably have ended up either staying late with John as he finishes his deck for the conference or would have dragged the other man home for a repeat of tonight. John doesn't need him, but Simon likes to be helpful. And at the end of the day, the conference isn't for three more weeks.
"Yes."
"Does Tav know?"
Simon should tell him, tell him everything, but it all comes back to Simon being a coward. Being the type of man who would walking to a gun fight with a knife but will avoid talking about his feelings. He doesn't want to hurt Johnny, hurt Johnny with his own insecurities, his worries. Admit to the man he loves that Simon doesn't trust him to take care of himself. Admit to the man he loves that they feel more like strangers than they did before they met.
But even as strangers Johnny is still the most precious person in the world and Simon will do anything to protect him. He can't afford to be the one hurting him.
"Not yet."
"Tell Tav, or the deal is off."
"Now?"
"Nah, let him sleep, he looked right knackered. Tomorrow, after we get back."
Simon nods, shaking off the last plate and placing it on the drying rack. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will stop being a coward. Tomorrow he will tell Johnny.
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