When Jonathan saw him barreling out of the apartment building, a smirk pulled at his lips. “What’s the rush, pretty boy?” he drawled, smoke flooding out of his mouth from the cigarette clamped between his lips.
Edward felt his face flush, and it wasn’t related to the exertion from running. He loved when Jonathan used pet names with him, and pretty boy was one of his favorites. It had initially been meant in a disparaging way, but all Edward really heard was that Jonathan thought he was pretty.
But he couldn’t let himself get distracted by the epithet. “I’m so sorry, fuck, I’m terrible, I can’t believe you waited for me all this time.” His mouth was moving even faster than his racing thoughts. “I’m the worst person in the world, I completely understand if you hate me right now.”
Jonathan shrugged, stereotypically blank expression betraying no trace of his true feelings. “Didn’t take as long as I thought it would, actually. I was thinking it’d be at least six cigs before you made it out here.” He dug the pack out of his pocket, offering it to Edward. “Want one?”
“No, thanks.” After a moment of thought, he added, “Ask me later.”
Jonathan pocketed the cigarettes, dropping the one he was smoking onto the ground. He crushed it under his boot as he pulled the passenger side door open. “Ready to go, then?”
Edward nodded, sliding into the seat. Jonathan shut the door, walking around the truck to get in the driver’s side.
“I really am sorry,” Edward said again as they pulled out into the road. “I had to shower and wash my face and brush my teeth and then— I’m just so indecisive with my outfits, I was trying on clothes for a ridiculous amount of time, and my hair is refusing to do what I want it to, fuck, I’m sorry I don’t look nicer. I wanted to look nice.”
“You look fine,” Jonathan said, rolling his eyes. Then, as if reconsidering, he said, “You look good.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled sheepishly. He stole a glance at the older man from the corner of his eye. “So do you.”
He huffed out a small breath. “I look the same as I always do.”
“Then I guess you always look good,” Edward countered.
He kept his eyes fixed on the road, but there was an almost imperceptible twitch in his jaw. “Only to you.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “I don’t want you looking too good to anyone else.” He reached out to rest a hand on Jonathan’s thigh. “Never really was good at sharing.”
He saw Jonathan’s gaze flicker toward his hand for a moment, but he made no further acknowledgement of the gesture.
They pulled up to the diner and Jonathan cut the engine off, pocketing his keys. They stepped out of the car. Jonathan held the door— an attempt at chivalry, perhaps? But he let Edward choose the booth. Did that mean something? Logically speaking, it probably didn’t, but what if it did?
Fuck, he was so nervous. His palms were sweaty. It had been a long time since he’d been on an actual date, objectively too long. He was out of practice. What the hell did people even talk about? It felt like anything he could say about himself or his life would just reveal how miserably unremarkable he was. He spent most of his time alone, even his work was solitary. He didn’t have interesting stories or experiences, hardly had any friends that he could reference, and his family was an untouchable topic. Nothing was safe, every possible conversational thread he could conceive of had the potential to lead to his humiliation.
And then there was the matter of eating. Why either of them thought dinner was a good idea was beyond him. Edward hated eating in front of people, Jonathan hardly ever ate at all. He stared down at the laminated menu, trying to calculate what would minimize anxiety and embarrassment and maximize his ability to hold a conversation. He didn’t want anything messy or anything that could get stuck in his teeth. It couldn’t be anything that seemed juvenile, either. He was an adult, he needed to eat adult food. Vegetables and things.
“God, leave it to you to overanalyze a fuckin’ menu.”
Edward’s head snapped up, certain that his cheeks were bright red. “I’m not— How did you—“
Jonathan couldn’t hide the smirk that was tugging at his lips. “You’ve got that look.”
Damn it, he hated that Jonathan could read him so easily. Hated himself for giving so much away. He wanted to be stoic and mysterious the way Jonathan was, but he was cursed with a big mouth and a desperate need for attention. Not exactly compatible personality styles. “I’m indecisive,” he said defensively. “I believe that’s been established.”
Jonathan looked like he wanted to laugh, but he just sat back in his seat, eyeing him. “What, are you real picky or something? Maybe watching your delicate figure?”
He clearly hadn’t meant it as more than a playful dig, but the comment stung Edward nonetheless. He did his best not to descend into a sullen mood, busying himself with the menu again. “I’m not delicate,” he said snidely. “And having taste is not the same thing as being picky.”
“Yeah it is. Especially when your ‘taste’ is dictated by being a broke nineteen year old.”
Of course he had to pull the age card. “I’ll be twenty in six weeks.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes, unconvinced. “Right. Remind me and we’ll reconvene to assess how time has affected your palate.” He flipped his own menu closed, pushing it into the center of the table. “Honestly, at the rate you’re going we may still be here by then.”
“Okay, okay, just give me a second.” His eyes darted from item to item, desperately trying to find something that fit at least most of his criteria. “What are you getting?” he asked, stalling.
“Waffle.”
“At night?”
He fidgeted with his tie, loosening and tightening it again. “Diner breakfast is superior.”
“Based on?”
“Edward.”
He glanced up, knowing he’d been caught. “Yes?”
“Pick something before I die of old age.” His expression had flattened out, but there was still a tinge of amusement in his tone. “Otherwise I’ll just order for you and you’ll have to deal with whatever I choose.”
“Fine, shit, I—“ His gaze landed on something that seemed relatively safe. Club sandwich. That was normal. Normal food for a normal guy. “Okay, yes, I’m ready.”
Jonathan turned to look over the back of the booth, catching the attention of the waitress that had been awkwardly hovering around their table since they sat down. She sprang to life, seeming a little relieved to have something to do. She looked like she was around Edward’s age, maybe younger. Mousy, soft spoken, nervous energy. Edward was not happy to admit he saw a version of himself in her. It made his stomach turn.
They ordered. They ate. Things were surprisingly… easy. Edward did most of the talking, as usual, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that Jonathan actually made some amount of effort to keep up his end of the conversation. He talked a little about school, which he seemed largely indifferent to. It was interesting that he could be so apathetic towards his education considering how extensive it was. He already had a bachelor’s and a master’s; as far as Edward was concerned that was more than enough school for a lifetime. But there he was, going after a PhD. He even worked at the university, so when he wasn’t busy with his own classes he was usually supervising someone else’s. Or grading their papers. Or writing their lab reports.
“What’s the plan?” Edward had asked. “Are you gonna max out at an MD? Go for the EGOT of academia?”
“Maybe. If I can afford it.” He dragged a piece of his waffle through the pool of syrup that had collected on his plate. “I used to want to be a surgeon when I was a kid.”
Edward tried to picture Jonathan as a child. He was the kind of man that looked like he was born old. His hair had already developed a few sparse streaks of grey and the harsh lines carved in his face made him look perpetually weary, stern.
Edward thought he was so handsome.
He hadn’t been particularly interested in pursuing older men, but meeting Jonathan sent any reservations he had about age gaps out the window. They had kissed outside the bar Oswald worked at— the only place where he could consistently get in without ID— and from that moment, it was over for him. Edward couldn’t remember ever being so infatuated with another person before. He was fascinated by the things he knew, the way he spoke, the life he had lived. It was clear that he had a colorful past, though he was not especially quick to divulge any meaningful details.
He wanted to know everything about Jonathan. And he had learned a fair amount in the short time they’d known each other. He learned how Jonathan took his coffee, which cigarettes he preferred. Edward knew the way he tasted, mapped the scars that littered his body. He dedicated himself to studying how he liked to be touched, catalogued every breath, every twitch, every time he moaned Edward’s name.
But all of that was a lot easier than ascertaining anything about the man’s personal life. There were certain things he knew as fact: Jonathan was from Georgia, had left when he was seventeen, accumulated enough money between scholarships and grants and loans to fund his various academic exploits, and somehow managed to hold down a job and excel in school despite being wildly disorganized and a routine substance abuser. It was impressive, really, how he kept everything together and still made time for Edward.
“D’you want anything else, or should we head out?”
“We can go.” Edward started to fish his wallet out of his pocket, hoping that there was actually something in it this time.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jonathan said before Edward could evaluate his financial freedom. “Just go. I’ll meet you at the truck.”
“You don’t have to pay for everything just because you’re older,” Edward grumbled. He didn’t enjoy feeling like a charity case, and the perceived infantilization didn’t help matters. “Or because you’re more butch, or whatever it is.”
“I’m flattered that you think I’m anything even remotely approaching butch. Besides,” he said, cracking a smile, “who said I was paying for anything?”
Edward raised an eyebrow. “So, what, we just leave?”
“Pretty much. Not together, obviously. You go first, I dip into the bathroom for a minute, then I follow.” He was tracing shapes in the residual syrup with the times of his fork. “It’s not exactly the heist of the century.”
“I thought you got your paycheck yesterday.”
Jonathan just shrugged noncommittally. “So? Doesn’t mean I want to spend it right now.”
Edward wondered if he should feel snubbed that Jonathan didn’t want to pay for their date. Though, it wasn’t as if Edward really wanted to pay for it either. Mostly he found it a bit silly that he would skip out on a bill seemingly just for the hell of it. “Didn’t take you for a dine and dasher.”
“I’m a complex individual.” He set his fork down “Go. I’ll be out in a few.”
He was still a little skeptical but he did as Jonathan said, the bell above the door jingling as he exited. With no keys to get him into the truck, he stood awkwardly in front of it, shifting his weight back and forth while he waited.
Sure enough, Jonathan appeared a few minutes later, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. “Alright. Where to?”
“I don’t know.” He couldn’t for the life of him come up with a suitable destination. “Do I have options?”
“Well, I could take you back to your place, if you want,” he offered. “Could take you back to mine, too. Or we could stay out, fuck around a little bit. Have a few drinks, get into some trouble.” There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Could be fun.”
It did sound sort of fun. And he liked the idea of drinks. “Yeah, okay. I could do trouble.”
the revolution AU !! yayyy woopee i love gay people
Rubier meeting pre-gang....wild and determined Javier + soft Ruben who's kinda just doing his best...
Ruben would immediately want Javier to meet his mom, but Javis like DAMNN YOU MOVING FAAASTT
Javis mom loves Ruben cause he eats everything and doesnt complain
Rubens mom, who has a gaydar, knows her son aint like ladies so when she meets Javier shes like omfg this boy fell in love and is searching for my approval (which he will get if this 'Javi' isnt an asshole)
Javier dresses up and is super nervous, but Eliane immediately loves him and is like omggg your CLOTHESSS (she loves dressing up. they buy clothes together and she makes him stuff sometimes) Ruben kinda has to translate but they end up speaking their own form of portunhol
she ends up liking Javi so much, Ru feels like they have inside jokes (they do)
how they met maybe!
idk i find the idea of javier originally thinking Ruben was a young woman funny
when Ruben meets Javis mom, its more of an accident; the boys are out cause Javi loves showing Ruben places/shops and bragging about Mexico and she happens to be at one of the shops
Javi panics and hes like UHHH WE GOTTA GO but his mom is already yelling for him
Javi tells Ruben all about Mexico and their customs cause he thinks Ruben is gonna leave btw
Ru is just not sharing a lot of info (too sad) so Javis overthinking brain assumed Ru is just there for a while
later he learns Ru is NOT leaving and is very relieved
I kinda wanna make this a happy AU....like they end up just living in Mexico together...thing is, Javi would continue his journey of revolution, which would worry Ruben sick...but he knows he cant stop it, so he just waits every time he's out, his stomach hurting from the worry
