Authors: E.M. Lindsey
Chapter Four
On a whim, Oliver went by the sandwich shop nestled in the University Mall, and grabbed a couple of breakfast sandwiches for himself and Leo. It was a small gesture, one he was hoping would prompt his brother to show some sort of remorse, or offer even the barest apology. He knew Leo loved him, but he wondered if Gabe was right about everything. Maybe taking care of Leo constantly was only making it worse.
His post-Gabe smile was long gone as he stepped into the house, looking around at the empty living room. There was a vague, damp smell meaning someone had taken a shower, so he ventured up and saw Leo’s door cracked open.
Pushing on it with his toe, he peered into the dark space, seeing a lump under the covers which had to be his brother. Easing himself in, he sat on the bed and used his elbow to shove at Leo’s legs until the younger man threw back the covers.
“
What
?” he hissed.
Oliver handed out the wrapped sandwich. “I brought you breakfast.”
Leo’s face was hard for only a moment more. The corner of his mouth softened, then quirked up into a half smile as he reached out and took the sandwich from his brother. “Is there bacon on it?”
“You think I’m a heathen?” Oliver asked, smiling back.
The pair of them shuffled backward to the headboard, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, eating in relative silence. Oliver could recall a handful of these moments in his past, but not enough to make his past experiences worth it.
Crumpling up the parchment paper, he tossed it in the general direction of the bin, then crooked one leg up, hugging it to his chest. “You feeling alright?”
Leo sighed. “Can you save your lecture for…”
“I’m not going to lecture you,” Oliver interrupted dryly. “Honestly, I just want to know if it’s out of your system.”
Leo dropped his sandwich wrapping to the floor beside the bed, then leaned his head back and turned sideways to stare at his brother. “Mostly. I can probably make it to my last couple of classes today. I just need another hour or two of sleep.”
Oliver reached up, pulling the tie from his bun, then carded his fingers through his hair. “I can’t stomach the thought of you having to go back to
her
, alright? We’re so close to being done and I just…fuck mate, can you please try?”
Leo rolled his eyes, but gave his brother a playful nudge with his elbow. “Yeah, alright. I’m…I’m not doing this on purpose, you know? I just drink and then stop thinking. I don’t even remember who gave me that shit.”
“Well luckily Gabe was there before anything really tragic happened.”
Leo snorted a laugh. “Lucky for who? Me, or your dick?”
“You know what…” Oliver stopped, blushing a little. “Actually, I think he and I have a date. Or the promise to make a date. Or something.”
“Or
something
,” Leo mocked, but he was smiling wider. “I had a feeling you would like him. I almost mentioned something the other day, but you’ve been such a twat about dating I thought it was better not to. He’s a good sort though, so don’t fuck him up.”
Oliver licked his lips, shaking his head before he was really aware of what he was promising. “Proper date. No one-offs. I’m going to see him tonight at the café.”
Leo reached over, giving his brother’s shoulders a squeeze before shoving him up a little. “Good. Now fuck off so I can sleep and actually try to be a decent student for once, okay? And if it makes you feel better…I’ll stay in tonight.”
“Make it two nights and I won’t follow you out to the clubs next time you go,” Oliver tried, easing himself from the bed. He gave his brother a cautious look, but Leo’s attention was on the alarm he was setting.
“Whatever you say, Ollie.”
It was as close to a promise as he’d get, he knew, so he took it as a win. Backing up, he cast his brother one more look before shutting the door and heading to his room to get ready for his day.
***
For the first time in a long time, Oliver’s classes dragged. Normally he prided himself on being an active participant in discussions—maybe to feed his ego a little, but also because in spite of his lackadaisical attitude toward life, he
did
care about his degree. But he found himself silent in class, answering questions when asked, taking half-notes if any at all.
His mind was wandering, fixated on soft eyes and a mess of dark curls. He was crushing. It was a strange feeling, swimming in this unfamiliar territory, and he wasn’t sure how to go forward with it. Yes, he’d fancied people before. He rarely had trouble getting someone to go home with him for the night—but he wasn’t really thinking of sex. Not entirely. He was making a valiant effort to envision a nice dinner, holding hands, walking near the boardwalk—whatever other romantic couples did.
He’d never actually tried to woo someone.
He wasn’t even sure that word was even valid in the dating world anymore.
Oliver gathered his laptop, shoving it into his bag at the end of his final class. It was only four, and he knew Gabe said after six, so he busied himself attempting to study at the library, though it was difficult with Gabe on his mind. He knew if he wasn’t careful, if he continued on his same path, he’d screw this all up. And this time he didn’t want to. This time he actually cared that it went well.
He didn’t get much done at the library beyond a handful of emails, mostly sending memes and jokes to his brother, and replying to a couple of old friends in London he kept in vague touch with. The minutes were creeping by like years, and at five-fifty, he pulled out his phone and typed out a quick text.
I’m on my way to the café. Not sure if you’ll get this, but I hope you haven’t changed your mind since this morning. x
He hit send before he could stop himself, then spent the entire ten-minute walk feeling like an absolute, clingy moron. But it was what it was. He was a man in his twenties who had no idea how to date someone. It was tragic. A disaster waiting to happen.
He reached the café just as the clock went six. Pacing a little, he peered in the window, but there was no sign of Gabe anywhere. Feeling the urge to pull his hair down just to have something to do with his hands, he was turning on his heel to leave when he heard a quiet giggle behind him.
Spinning, his eyes widened when he saw Gabe leaning against the side wall, one leg cocked up against the bricks, a cigarette pinched between his first and middle finger. He gave Oliver a nod of hello, then beckoned him over.
“Alright, Gabe?” Oliver said, half-jogging across the distance.
“Not bad. How are you?” As he asked the question, he offered Oliver a cigarette.
“I shouldn’t. I smoke way too much when I go out drinking and I’ve been trying to cut back.” He felt ridiculous saying it, but his chest unknotted a bit when he saw Gabe’s soft smile of understanding.
“I only do it when I’m working,” he said with a shrug, taking another drag. “I shouldn’t, but it’s the only excuse my boss accepts when I need to get the fuck out for ten minutes.”
“Public service jobs,” Oliver muttered. He was trying not to stare, but it was difficult. He was fascinated by the sharp cup of Gabe’s jaw, by the stubble, by the way his large nose seemed to take over his face, but in a way that screamed, ‘
kiss me, you fool
!’ He wanted to run his thumb over Gabe’s pouty bottom lip, and then dig his fingers into those curls and curl up with him for days.
“You’re staring,” Gabe said, flicking some ash from the end of the cigarette.
Oliver sighed. “Sorry. You’re so cute, I can’t help it.” He could flirt, he knew that, and by the high blush in Gabe’s cheeks, he thought maybe it was the right thing to say.
“Ah. Well. How’d studying go?” Gabe was grinning shyly, which made Oliver feel weak in the knees.
Mouth a bit dry, Oliver shrugged one shoulder up as he got comfortable, lounging next to the other man. “It
would
have been good, except I was distracted today. I kept thinking about my interesting morning.”
Gabe’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “Oh?
Interesting
, was it?”
“See, I woke up next to this really cute bloke, and I’ve never done that before.”
Letting out an undignified snort of laughter, Gabe shook his head. “Oh really? You’ve never spent the night in a dude’s bed? Or a woman’s?”
“I never stay long enough for morning cuddles, is what I’m saying,” Oliver replied with a shrug. “But it was nice. Extremely nice.”
Gabe bit down on his lower lip, and Oliver had to physically restrain himself from grabbing Gabe by the shoulders and replacing those teeth with his own. “Well…I wouldn’t be averse to doing it again, you know.”
Oliver couldn’t help his grin as he nudged Gabe with his elbow. “You mean it?”
“I mean it. I have Thursday off this week. If you want to maybe do something?”
“I would…I mean, yeah. Yeah, okay.” Oliver felt like a complete idiot, the grin plastered on his face not doing him any favors, but Gabe seemed to be happy with the reaction. “You want me to pick you up? Is there anything you want to do?”
“Isn’t that up to you? The connoisseur of posh things?”
“Christ,” Oliver muttered. “You know what, fine. I’ll ply you with expensive food and fine wines. And
you
can provide the snuggles after, since you appear to be the expert and all.”
Gabe licked his bottom lip, then gave a sharp nod. “Be at my place by six. And bring comfy pajamas. They’re a must for morning cuddles, just so you know.”
“Well, I
didn’t
know, and…” Oliver began.
“If you’re trying some, I sleep in the nude line…” Gabe interrupted.
“Blimey, no,” Oliver said, rolling his eyes. “I might be a complete shit sometimes—no one would argue there—but I’m going to be on my best behavior. Scout’s honor.”
Gabe rolled his eyes, but laughed a bit. “Good.” He crushed out what was left of his cigarette, then flicked it into the nearby bin. Turning slightly, he reached out and grabbed the collar of Oliver’s shirt. “I don’t know why I like you.”
“Not usually your type? You like some other type of boys better than British ones?”
Gabe rolled his eyes as he tugged Oliver even closer. “More like I don’t usually go for snarky, cis, fuckboys. But you’re…charming.”
“It’s the accent,” Oliver muttered, moving in so close they were almost touching nose-to-nose. “Throws people off. I’ll have you know I am
king
fuckboy.”
“Mm, we’ll see about that,” Gabe said. He reached up and dragged his hand down Oliver’s cheek, letting his thumb draw a line under his bottom lip. “So, Thursday, then?”
Oliver let out a shuddering breath and again restrained himself from closing the distance between them. “I’ll be there. Wild horses couldn’t stop me.”
Drawing his face in close again, Gabe feathered light kisses across Oliver’s jaw, stopping at the very corner of his mouth before pulling away. Wearing a very shy smile, he let his hand slide down the front of Oliver’s chest, then dropped it away completely. “I can’t wait. Text me later.”
“I will, I promise. Have a good shift,” Oliver said, his voice trembling as hard as his hands were. He stood there, feeling kiss-stupid without even having been properly kissed, and watched as Gabe disappeared through the employee doors.
He didn’t go in for coffee, but he allowed himself a few minutes to watch the other man work through the windows. A few times Gabe looked out, giving him a quiet smile, and after a little while, Oliver turned and left.
It was enough. Especially with the promise of so much more to come.
Chapter Five
Like the hours had crawled by, so did the days leading to Thursday. Oliver barely made polite conversation with Coco, who took it upon herself to be as scarce as possible, likely out of fear that Oliver was finally losing his cool. Even Leo was giving his brother wide berth, though when he learned Oliver was going on a proper date, he couldn’t stop himself from giving his brother a hard time over it.
“I hope you’re going to treat him like a prince,” Leo cautioned on Thursday evening when Oliver was spending an obscene amount of time on his hair. “Flowers, chocolates. The works.”
“Sod off,” Oliver said through a grin as he put a very careful French braid in his hair. “Besides, I know how actual princes want to be treated, and I don’t think Gabe would appreciate that much.”
“Posh fucker,” Leo said, and hit Oliver’s elbow so his hair messed up and he had to start over.
“I will kill you. I will kill you and bury your body, and
no one
will miss you,” he hissed as he ran his fingers through his now-loose locks. “Anyway, I’ve a very nice night planned. I found a restaurant which overlooks the water—booked a table with a view. Then we’ll have a walk on the pier, then go back to his.”
“For a shag? You fucking tart.”
“
That
isn’t any of your business.” Oliver finished his hair without any further incident, then backed up so he could see his upper half in the mirror. He went semi-casual, his nicest pair of jeans, with a button-up white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows otherwise he’d feel like he was back in sixth form. He put a little bit of spray in his hair to keep it from falling out, then turned to his brother. “Well?”
“I’d say shaggable, but we’re related and that’s disgusting. Gabe will like it, though.”
“You think? He said I wasn’t his type,” Oliver mused as he pushed his brother away from the door and stepped into the hall. Leo followed him downstairs and into the kitchen where he put his kettle on. “Have you seen him date before?”
“Not really.” Leo hopped onto one of the breakfast bar stools and pulled a cluster of grapes from Coco’s serving bowl. Popping one into his mouth, he spoke around the fruit. “He’s kind of the quiet one, you know? Doesn’t go out a lot, keeps to himself. He’s been in the group for sodding ever, but he’s kind of the shy type. I tried to chat him up when we first met, but he wasn’t having any of it.”
“That’s because you’re a walking disaster,” Oliver replied absently as he hunted around for a clean mug. He found one, then took a bag of the tea from the cabinet and poured the hot water. “You think he really likes me though? I mean…”
“I think,” Leo said slowly, “you should stop trying to talk yourself out of this. If I can refrain from going out for an entire week—which I have done, by the way, with no thanks from you—I think you can go on an actual, proper date.”
Oliver shot his brother a withering glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “I guess we’re both strapping on our grown-up boots, aren’t we? What’s next? Picket fences? Children?”
“Stop talking hetero,” Leo complained, throwing a grape at his brother. “But I do hope you have a nice time. You might actually
like
having a boyfriend.”
Before, the very idea would have made his skin crawl, but the thought of being allowed to wake up next to Gabe any time he wanted because they were a couple—it had an appeal Oliver had never felt before. And he liked it.
“Any last minute tips before I go?” Oliver asked.
“Ask him before you kiss him—consent for everything. Hold the door for him, but don’t pull out his chair because that’s ridiculous. Compliment him a lot. And I dunno, read the room. Or something. You know I’m not actually good at dating advice, right?”
Oliver laughed, clapping Leo on the shoulder before he headed to the door. “Laterz. Don’t wait up, and don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’ll be here, studying all night, like a good little demi-boy,” Leo called as Oliver slammed the door.
A massive smile plastered across his face, Oliver climbed into the car and started up the engine. It had taken him a while to learn how to drive, having never bothered as London traffic was hell, but when he realized how awful public transport was when he moved to California, he didn’t have much choice.
It was still a shaky thing, but with his GPS, he was able to navigate the streets well enough to get back to Gabe’s apartment, and he found a decent spot without having to parallel park. As he got out, he realized his nerves had fired up, and his fingers were shaking a little as he attempted to push the lock button on the keys. It took three tries and a good laugh at himself before he was composed enough to get to Gabe’s door and knock.
There was a good minute pause, but he could hear footsteps inside. When the door swung wide, Gabe was dressed, but he had a towel around his shoulders and his curls were hanging long over his forehead, dripping wet.
“I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “I was running late.”
Oliver smiled, shaking his head. “No worries, mate. Go finish getting ready. I already feel like I know your place, so I’ll just make myself comfortable.”
“Oh my God,” Gabe muttered, but he was grinning and he gave Oliver a little shove toward the couch before rushing back toward the bathroom.
Oliver flopped down on the couch, sinking into the cushions a little. He cocked one foot up on the edge of the coffee table and let his gaze wander. He’d been caught up before, with Leo’s dramatic attempts to throw himself over the proverbial edge of wellbeing, so his mind hadn’t registered much the last time he was in the apartment. But now he could clearly see the knick-knacks on the shelves and the photos on the walls.
A few photos were of Gabe as a kid with a much rounder, baby face. The clothes hideously mid-nineties with neon pinks and purples, but Gabe’s curls were still the same—wild and short. His face wasn’t much different except the glow of youth, a tinge of pink to freckled, chubby cheeks, and sunburnt ears. Oliver wondered what he was like back then, before his falling out with his parents. He looked well loved, at least more loved than Oliver had grown up. It was a wonder how far a person could be thrown from family for nothing more than discovering who they truly were.
Oliver let out a sigh, trying not to let himself go morose before his date. He wanted to enjoy his night with the adorable barista, not think back on the nightmare of his childhood.
When Gabe finally returned from getting ready, Oliver gave him a slow up and down, showing his appreciation with a lecherous gaze. Dressed in loose jeans and a collared shirt, he looked ready for a semi-formal dinner. And he looked damn good, too. The shirt hugged his torso just so, and the jeans flattering at the back. His curls were still wet, but it looked like he’d thrown some product into them, likely in a vain attempt to keep them tame.
“Alright?” Gabe asked as Oliver rose from the couch.
With a grin, he beckoned Gabe closer, and adjusted the edge of his collar which had come up slightly. “Better than I was all week. I swear I thought Thursday was never going to come.”
Gabe smiled, leaning in a little and surprising Oliver, sniffed his neck. “Same. You smell really good, by the way.”
“I showered,” Oliver said, and Gabe laughed.
“Thank God for that.” He reached out, a little bold, and grabbed Oliver’s hand, pressing them palm-to-palm. “So, time for my fancy date?”
“So long as you have those promised snuggles after,” Oliver said.
“I washed my comforter today, so it’s fresh smelling and fluffy. Did you bring the pajamas?”
Oliver grinned, pulling Gabe close so their sides pressed together. “I did. Soft and cozy. You probably won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself.”
Gabe grabbed his keys and phone, then pulled Oliver into the hallway. “You talk a big game, my friend. You’re not as slick as you think you are.”
Pouting out his lip, he watched as Gabe’s eyes darkened a little, and knew at least some of his tricks of seduction would work. “Really? Am I losing my touch?”
Gabe licked his lips, then rolled his eyes away from Oliver to lock his door. “You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”
Yanking Gabe in, Oliver buried his face in the other man’s neck, breathing him in. “I might. But I promise it’ll be in a
really
good way.”
“Fuck,” Gabe muttered. He stood there a moment, then carefully extracted himself, offering Oliver his hand. “How about we get through dinner first, yeah? Then we can…resume?”
Oliver’s smile was wide and sharp. “I think I can live with that. Come on, I’ve brought my car and I’m fairly sure I won’t kill us on the way.”
“That,” Gabe said as he was pulled to the street, “does not bode well.”
***
Oliver managed to get them to the restaurant in one piece, and utilized the valet to avoid the mess which was beach-side parking. The queue to turn the car in was long, but they’d arrived fifteen minutes early. Oliver handed over the keys, waiting on the curb for Gabe, and was startled into a smile when Gabe grabbed his hand, twinning their fingers together.
“This okay?” Gabe asked quietly.
“More than.” Oliver squeezed back a little as they followed the wandering crowd to the front doors of the restaurant. It was full of people, groups of families and couples on dates, all milling around waiting for their names to be called. Oliver managed to elbow his way through to the host desk, and gave his name. “Oliver Sasaki, reservation for two people. We’re a bit early, I know.”
The hostess looked at her computer screen, then nodded. “It should only be about ten more minutes. You’re welcome to the bar if you want to grab a drink though.”
Oliver looked at Gabe who gave an encouraging nod, so he pulled his date along to the semi-packed bar. They found a couple of stools near the end, where a massive TV was perched, but it was on mute so they’d have a chance to talk.
“Gin and tonic,” Oliver ordered from the perky bartender. “Whatever you’ve got that’s top shelf.”
“Whatever local lager you have on tap,” Gabe put in.
They received their drinks, and settled into their chairs as a group next to them shouted loudly when one of the players on screen made a foul shot. “You ever get into the whole sport thing?” Oliver asked, squeezing his lime into the drink.
Gabe shook his head. “Nope. I’ve been accused plenty of times by friends of not having school spirit because I refuse to go to the games. But it’s not my thing.”
Oliver laughed a bit as he sipped through the small, black straw. “I was forced into it. Footie, and rugby for a while. Just my school teams though. Leo was better at it than I was, but my mum thought it might pound some hetero back into me. Unfortunately, when I got caught blowing the footie captain after the game, she realized it hadn’t worked.”
Gabe, who had been taking a drink, choked a little. “Oh my God, are you serious?”
With a wide grin, Oliver nodded. “He was curious, I offered to help sate it. We got off with each other a few times before he decided he was straight. Married some girl straight out of sixth form. Shame, too. He was very good looking.”
Gabe chuckled a little, shaking his head. “Never any good when your boyfriend goes straight on you.”
“Oh, he was not my boyfriend,” Oliver clarified. “Didn’t really have one of those in school. Or well…ever.”
Gabe’s eyebrows shot up. “Ever? As in never once?”
Letting out a slow breath, Oliver leaned toward him a little, elbow resting on the bar top. “Never once. Does that…is that… a deal breaker?”
Gabe bit down on his bottom lip, brows furrowed in thought. “Is it because of your brother?”
“Partly.” Oliver said cryptically. He wasn’t sure he was entirely ready to talk about his mother’s heterosexual conditioning this early on. “Partly because having a boyfriend when I was younger was…frowned upon. In my home. The habit sort of carried itself with me. Then I started university, and no one ever really caught my fancy long enough.”
Gabe was looking at him carefully, and his hand snuck out, pressing it over Oliver’s knee. “What about now, though? Because really, it’s only a deal breaker if you’re just looking for a quick fuck. I’m not into that.”
Oliver smiled very softly, his head shaking just a little. “No worries there, mate. I don’t offer a night of cuddling if I’m only in it for a shag.”
With a small chuckle, Gabe removed his hand, curling it back around his beer. “Do they really call it a shag in England?”
“Yeah,” Oliver replied with a small laugh. “They do. You’ve no idea how many times I get asked about that. But…are we alright, then?”
“Yes,” Gabe said, and winked at him. “We’re just fine.”
A few moments later, they were called to their table which was on the second floor of the restaurant, in front of the massive, floor-to-ceiling windows. Gabe’s eyes widened, and Oliver couldn’t help his smile.
The pair sat, and Gabe shook his head as he picked up the menu. “You weren’t kidding about trying to woo me with posh things, were you? Is this how the better half live?”