17

Winston is the first one to reach the café. It's not on one of the busiest streets in the city, out of the way on a side-street of a side-street, and it's fairly empty even at this hour. The bell above the old door rings when he enters, the elaborate wooden handle cold under his hand. He shivers somewhat when he steps inside, the rush of warm air tickling his cheeks.

Pulling the zipper of his jacket down, Winston looks around. It's probably the coziest café he's ever stepped foot in, to be honest. The building must be over a hundred years old, all the ceiling at least 3 meters high. The entrance room is fairly small, the counter right across from the door, but from where he stands he can see at least for more rooms both left and right, vaulted off and separated.

He hesitates a bit when the employee behind the counter smiles at him, and finally he points vaguely in one direction. "I'm still waiting for my date so I'll head in first," he says, and when they wave him off he scurries off before they say anything about his date.

He goes all the way to the last room, through four others, and settles into a corner. There's only one other occupied table in here, and it's a student surrounded by at least five textbooks and an open computer, and he's having flashbacks just looking at them. While he sits, he fiddles with his phone. Sends a quick "I'm here; the furthest room to the right" and then stares at the conversation history with Jason.

Takes a deep breath, and moves to the conversation with Gary. Types out a practically identical message to him, and then adds an emoji looking very nervous, just for extra effect. Then he places his phone screen-down on the round table, which appears to be made of at last 3 different types of wood, though he can't identify any of them.

His foot taps on the floor as he leans against the chair's backrest. His gaze glide around the room; over the high windows, the paintings on the walls, the other mismatched furniture, even over the solid floor that's some kind of unidentifiable stone. The only other person here is working very quietly, large gamer headsets over their ears, and he avoids looking at them too much lest he disturbs them.

Five minutes later, his phone buzzes. Winston flinches, reaching for it and turning it upside. He doesn't even need to unlock it to see the new message from Jason, a "got off the bus, i'm almost there!!"

Winston bites his lip. Smiles a little helplessly, utterly beyond his control and he sends a heart-eyed emoji in return, unable to think of any words. His stomach flutters, and he slides down the chair a little as he leans his head back over the backrest's edge, the wood digging uncomfortably into his skull.

The lights in the room are warm, at least, mellow colors that are easy to rest the eyes on. He wonders, absentmindedly, if there's something different about them---if he could buy lamps like that for the apartment. (Not that it would help.)

His phone chimes softly. "Here" says Jason.

Winston squeaks [wheezes? twitches? something to show he's excited and nervous!] and his head thuds as it hits the table. He mumbles something inaudibly into it, and he can't even tell what he says. Just squeezes his phone in his hand and lies still for a moment, heart running a mile a minute.

That can't be healthy, he thinks, a little hysterical.

He takes a deep breath. Counts to ten. Tries to remember if there's a an established protocol for greeting ones date on the second date. Should he rise, when Jason enters? Shake hands with him? Hug him? Kiss his cheeks?

Fuck, why didn't he research this?

Hearing footsteps approaching, Winston sits up and rubs his eyes, brushing his hand over his mouth in the unlikely event he was drooling. He straightens his back, clears his throat and waits with wide eyes directed the room's entrance.

The footsteps get closer, and Winston's stomach flutters something fierce, his hands tingling. His eyes get wider.

And---

Jason walks into the room.

Winston's heart skips a beat, his breath hitches, and he doesn't even dare blink for fear it's an illusion. Jason's eyes drift quickly over the room, catching on Winston in the corner, and all of Winston's worries flies away.

Actually, it might be more accurate to say that all his thoughts fly away.

Jason saunters over the distance, smiling, and he raises a hand when he's closer. "Hey," Jason says, doing a little wave. Winston blinks, and Jason slowly lowers his hand, putting it in his jacket's pocket.

Winston blinks again. "Hi," he finally says, smiling in a distinctly gooey manner. Jason's smile grows, and he pulls the chair out opposite Winston and plops down rather gracelessly, legs spreading wide.

"Hi," Jason says.

Winston gulps. Looking at Jason's eyes, he forgets himself for a moment, the potential awkwardness of the situation entirely passing him by. He says, "Thank you for coming," and doesn't even wince, eyes still slightly wider than normal. Watching Jason feels like watching the sun, or maybe a rainbow.

He's breathtaking.

In fact, Winston hasn't breathed in over 30 seconds and his lungs are kind of starting to hurt, so he drags in a giant, loud breath. Holds it in for ten seconds. Then he asks, "Do you wanna order coffee now?"

"Yeah, sounds good." Then, after a moment, he grins, "That's what we're here for, right."

"Exactly," Winston nods. He smiles, rising and patting his bum for any dust he might have sat on. Jason leads the way out, and Winston's eyes skip over the student in the room. Who's watching them as well, and winks when they make eye-contact.

Winston twitches and refocuses on Jason.

After ordering their drinks and telling the barista (is that the correct word?) where they're sitting, they head right back to the aforementioned table. Winston returns to his seat more slowly than Jason does and when he's made himself comfortable again and looks up, Jason is staring at him with his head resting on his hand. His eyes are half-mast, but they're looking right at him.

When Jason realizes he's been caught, he grins. Very sexily. Rugged. Handsome.

Fuck.

Winston asks, "Is there something on my face?"

"You," breathes Jason. Winston tilts his head, and Jason's eyes widen. "Fuck," Jason says, and leans his head back. Smile rueful, he says, "I didn't meant to say that."

"So you weren't looking at me?"

"No, I mean, yes, I was, but-" Jason's mouth slowly snaps shut. He hasn't, Winston can't help but note, looked away from him yet. Is still staring right at Winston's, making eye-contact without an issue. Finally, Jason says, "Yeah, I was looking at you."

Winston says, "I'm looking at you too."

"I know," Jason bites his bottom lip and peers at Winston through thick eyelashes, and he's the very picture of temptation. Hair falling artfully over his forehead, eyes big and glittering, mouth plush and rosy... Winston is weak.

Their drinks arrive, and Winston takes a large gulp right away. His tongue-and mouth- burns but that's okay, it's worth it. Without a doubt.

"So what did you do yesterday?" Jason asks, sipping at his own darkly colored drink with a fancy pink straw. "I was so busy with practice I barely talked to you," and is it just Winston or does Jason pout at that?

Double fuck.