Miles & Bobby, Sunday evening
May. 13th, 2018 07:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsFirst date! Miles and Bobby figure out they don't fit the regular mold and do things at their own pace, instead.
Every authority figure (and movie and TV show) had drilled it into Miles's head that to impress a first date, it has to be fancy and expensive. If you can't show her a good time and that you can keep up this behavior, then you're just wasting everyone's time.
Then why did he feel like taking Bobby to Ruggiero's — with its soft candlelight and refusal to check ID's for ordering wine and actual for-real live violinist — was the exact opposite of what they should be doing?
He looked up from his menu and grinned sheepishly at Bobby. "Um, they have real good garlic bread here."
"Garlic bread is the bomb, yeah." He was eyeing that pretty hard on the menu because, if he was being honest, Bobby wasn't sure what else he'd be able to order there. A lot of it was fancy stuff (to him at least) that he'd never had before, and the main spaghetti dish seemed to be on the kid's menu, so. It was kinda awkward, which wasn't helping in what was a great yet still kinda awkward first date with Miles. But it was a fancy place, and appropriate for this kinda thing, or so modern media had told him. TV would never lie to him, right?
"I, uh," he started, scratching his head, "I'm gonna ask him about the specials again when he gets back, I think." And probably just order whatever the waiter recommended to avoid having to make any kind of decision himself.
"It's a nice place, though, very fancy." He didn't want Miles to think he didn't like the spot.
"Yeah." Oh god he hated it. This relationship just started and already Miles had ruined it. His camo mode almost kicked on, as he just wished to vanish and spare himself further embarrassment and the inevitable breakup. "Um, maybe I'll get the risotto. Thought that was a Japanese dish, though. Huh." A moment of uncomfortable silence passed and Miles felt compelled to fill it. "Oh, I heard a joke in class the other day. Why are open source statistical programming languages the best? Because they R. Right? The letter R. The stats language."
"Haha, oh yeah, R. The programming thing." Bobby knew absolutely nothing about R, or any programming languages for that matter, but he laughed because Miles said it was funny. "That sounds like something a pirate statistics dude'd use. Like 'arrrrr, I'm crunchin' me numbers.'"
It was official: stats jokes just weren't funny.
"Man, pirates make me want to eat at Red Lobster." It was a non sequitur, kinda. Bobby was hungry, though, and at least at Red Lobster he knew what he was getting. Why hadn't they gone there instead?
Yeah, why hadn't they? Who cares what everyone says about first dates and being fancy and expensive and whatever. Miles and Bobby were friends, had been for three years now. They didn't need this locura. And the longer they went on like this, the less likely a second date would be. "Let's go! Come on, this is dumb." He stood up and dropped a twenty on the table to cover their drinks. "Cheese biscuits are better than garlic bread, anyway."
"Dude I would kill for a cheese biscuit right now, not gonna lie." Bobby got up too, not questioning things because hello, cheese biscuits. And they were free. As an indication of further rebellion and raging against the machine, he un-tucked his shirt as he got up as well. That felt a bit more natural too. "Awesome idea, man, good call."
Miles followed suit as they fled the restaurant, ignoring the bewildered expressions of the wait staff and other patrons. He even undid the top couple buttons of his shirt. "There's one on 125th Street," he said, taking out his phone to call a Lyft. Close enough to campus that it was a popular treat for students. Mostly those from out of town who wanted a taste of back home, but even the locals enjoyed every so often. The car pulled up almost as soon as the request went in. "You won't judge me if I get that chocolate cake that's like 1100 calories, right?"
"I will judge you if you don't get it," Bobby said. "And if you don't share. Or, shit, if I can't get my own, that's probably the best bet yeah?" They were growing boys, after all, they needed those calories. Or something. He hopped into the Lyft and left the door open for Miles to follow him inside. "Dude wait is there a buffet there tonight too?" This could be dangerous, but also an amazing date in his books.
"Oh damn, I don't know. Maybe." Though Miles was torn between them getting their own desserts, which meant they each got more, and sharing, which was probably the romantic thing to do. But after some thought, he resolved on the former. They were already throwing traditional romance out the window, anyway, and replacing it with something of their own that was much better in every way.
It was a short ride to the superior restaurant, and even though the car was plenty big enough for the two of them, Miles spread his legs so his rubbed up against Bobby's. A little furtive touch, meaningless to any observer, but it made his heart race. He offered Bobby a smile and then looked away, shy but unwilling to give up the contact.
Miles got out first when they arrived and closed the door behind Bobby. A gentlemanly gesture but really an excuse for Miles to secretly ogle his date. His date. His smile brightened just thinking of those words.
"Thank you sir," Bobby said as he hopped out, unaware of the staring, not that he'd mind but he'd be blushing otherwise. "Now, this is more like it." He clapped his hands together as he looked up at the Red Lobster sign hanging above the door. Reaching out, he opened the door and held it open for Miles to enter first.
They were seated immediately, but unlike the lax liquor rules back at Ruggiero's, they had to settle softer drinks. Still, cheddar biscuits aplenty. Sitting across from each other, Miles continued the game from the car, stretching a leg to caress Bobby's under the table. "So, um, Ganke got a Switch from Christmas. It's in our dorm. Maybe we can go back and play Mario Kart later?"
"Dude, yes, the new one rocks with letting you use two items." He didn't have a Switch himself but he'd played other peoples' systems and it was pretty damn fun indeed. Bobby nudged back at Miles' leg, not as forward as his newfound boyfriend but willingly receiving his attention just the same. "Maybe we can get some ice cream too, on the way back?" His eyes were probably being bigger than his stomach, as they hadn't even eaten yet, but it was ok, they were on a date. That lack of logic somehow made sense to him, anyway.
And date or no, Miles would be hard-pressed to disagree. "Cake and ice cream? I like the way you think. 'Cept you're gonna make me fat and then you won't be attracted to me anymore." He grinned, speaking with a clearly teasing tone, even though the prospect of turning off Bobby frightened him. New relationship jitters were the worst.
The waiter came along in short order, replenishing the already-empty basket of cheddar biscuits, and Miles took one once he returned his menu. "Hey, can I ask . . . did you ever think about this —" he indicated the two of them — "before we played spin the bottle?"
"Honestly?" Bobby chewed thoughtfully on a newly-provided cheddar biscuit, trying not to eat with his mouth open and (mostly) succeeding. "I... huh. I guess not a lot, but it sometimes popped up?" Realizing his phraseology, he raised a finger skyward and wagged it back and forth a little. "Not a word, dude. I heard it too."
Miles shut his mouth at Bobby's command, swallowing the comment he had readied. "I still feel bad about it," he admitted once Bobby lowered his warning finger. "I didn't do it on purpose. It just happened. But I should've controlled myself. So, I'm sorry. Next time, permission before tongue, promise."
"Hey, nothing to be sorry about, because it's a good thing, this whole... y'know." Bobby mimicked Miles' earlier gesture. "Just because I never really thought about it doesn't mean it isn't good. I mean, there's a lot of things I don't think about. Like, a ton of stuff." Mostly school-related, which was why he hadn't pursued anything beyond his high school degree at that point. He shrugged to punctuate the thought. "Doesn't make it bad."
"No, I just mean, you know. Words. And not in front of a bunch of strangers. It's like, the least romantic way to let you know I'm interested. Especially when I didn't know 'til it happened, either, you know what I mean? Like, we started off on not a good foot, and I dunno if that's a bad omen, or, like, it can only go up from here."
"Let's just go with the latter, yeah?" They only had soft drinks now but Bobby paused raiding the cheddar biscuit basket long enough to hoist his for a toast just the same.
"Salud."
Every authority figure (and movie and TV show) had drilled it into Miles's head that to impress a first date, it has to be fancy and expensive. If you can't show her a good time and that you can keep up this behavior, then you're just wasting everyone's time.
Then why did he feel like taking Bobby to Ruggiero's — with its soft candlelight and refusal to check ID's for ordering wine and actual for-real live violinist — was the exact opposite of what they should be doing?
He looked up from his menu and grinned sheepishly at Bobby. "Um, they have real good garlic bread here."
"Garlic bread is the bomb, yeah." He was eyeing that pretty hard on the menu because, if he was being honest, Bobby wasn't sure what else he'd be able to order there. A lot of it was fancy stuff (to him at least) that he'd never had before, and the main spaghetti dish seemed to be on the kid's menu, so. It was kinda awkward, which wasn't helping in what was a great yet still kinda awkward first date with Miles. But it was a fancy place, and appropriate for this kinda thing, or so modern media had told him. TV would never lie to him, right?
"I, uh," he started, scratching his head, "I'm gonna ask him about the specials again when he gets back, I think." And probably just order whatever the waiter recommended to avoid having to make any kind of decision himself.
"It's a nice place, though, very fancy." He didn't want Miles to think he didn't like the spot.
"Yeah." Oh god he hated it. This relationship just started and already Miles had ruined it. His camo mode almost kicked on, as he just wished to vanish and spare himself further embarrassment and the inevitable breakup. "Um, maybe I'll get the risotto. Thought that was a Japanese dish, though. Huh." A moment of uncomfortable silence passed and Miles felt compelled to fill it. "Oh, I heard a joke in class the other day. Why are open source statistical programming languages the best? Because they R. Right? The letter R. The stats language."
"Haha, oh yeah, R. The programming thing." Bobby knew absolutely nothing about R, or any programming languages for that matter, but he laughed because Miles said it was funny. "That sounds like something a pirate statistics dude'd use. Like 'arrrrr, I'm crunchin' me numbers.'"
It was official: stats jokes just weren't funny.
"Man, pirates make me want to eat at Red Lobster." It was a non sequitur, kinda. Bobby was hungry, though, and at least at Red Lobster he knew what he was getting. Why hadn't they gone there instead?
Yeah, why hadn't they? Who cares what everyone says about first dates and being fancy and expensive and whatever. Miles and Bobby were friends, had been for three years now. They didn't need this locura. And the longer they went on like this, the less likely a second date would be. "Let's go! Come on, this is dumb." He stood up and dropped a twenty on the table to cover their drinks. "Cheese biscuits are better than garlic bread, anyway."
"Dude I would kill for a cheese biscuit right now, not gonna lie." Bobby got up too, not questioning things because hello, cheese biscuits. And they were free. As an indication of further rebellion and raging against the machine, he un-tucked his shirt as he got up as well. That felt a bit more natural too. "Awesome idea, man, good call."
Miles followed suit as they fled the restaurant, ignoring the bewildered expressions of the wait staff and other patrons. He even undid the top couple buttons of his shirt. "There's one on 125th Street," he said, taking out his phone to call a Lyft. Close enough to campus that it was a popular treat for students. Mostly those from out of town who wanted a taste of back home, but even the locals enjoyed every so often. The car pulled up almost as soon as the request went in. "You won't judge me if I get that chocolate cake that's like 1100 calories, right?"
"I will judge you if you don't get it," Bobby said. "And if you don't share. Or, shit, if I can't get my own, that's probably the best bet yeah?" They were growing boys, after all, they needed those calories. Or something. He hopped into the Lyft and left the door open for Miles to follow him inside. "Dude wait is there a buffet there tonight too?" This could be dangerous, but also an amazing date in his books.
"Oh damn, I don't know. Maybe." Though Miles was torn between them getting their own desserts, which meant they each got more, and sharing, which was probably the romantic thing to do. But after some thought, he resolved on the former. They were already throwing traditional romance out the window, anyway, and replacing it with something of their own that was much better in every way.
It was a short ride to the superior restaurant, and even though the car was plenty big enough for the two of them, Miles spread his legs so his rubbed up against Bobby's. A little furtive touch, meaningless to any observer, but it made his heart race. He offered Bobby a smile and then looked away, shy but unwilling to give up the contact.
Miles got out first when they arrived and closed the door behind Bobby. A gentlemanly gesture but really an excuse for Miles to secretly ogle his date. His date. His smile brightened just thinking of those words.
"Thank you sir," Bobby said as he hopped out, unaware of the staring, not that he'd mind but he'd be blushing otherwise. "Now, this is more like it." He clapped his hands together as he looked up at the Red Lobster sign hanging above the door. Reaching out, he opened the door and held it open for Miles to enter first.
They were seated immediately, but unlike the lax liquor rules back at Ruggiero's, they had to settle softer drinks. Still, cheddar biscuits aplenty. Sitting across from each other, Miles continued the game from the car, stretching a leg to caress Bobby's under the table. "So, um, Ganke got a Switch from Christmas. It's in our dorm. Maybe we can go back and play Mario Kart later?"
"Dude, yes, the new one rocks with letting you use two items." He didn't have a Switch himself but he'd played other peoples' systems and it was pretty damn fun indeed. Bobby nudged back at Miles' leg, not as forward as his newfound boyfriend but willingly receiving his attention just the same. "Maybe we can get some ice cream too, on the way back?" His eyes were probably being bigger than his stomach, as they hadn't even eaten yet, but it was ok, they were on a date. That lack of logic somehow made sense to him, anyway.
And date or no, Miles would be hard-pressed to disagree. "Cake and ice cream? I like the way you think. 'Cept you're gonna make me fat and then you won't be attracted to me anymore." He grinned, speaking with a clearly teasing tone, even though the prospect of turning off Bobby frightened him. New relationship jitters were the worst.
The waiter came along in short order, replenishing the already-empty basket of cheddar biscuits, and Miles took one once he returned his menu. "Hey, can I ask . . . did you ever think about this —" he indicated the two of them — "before we played spin the bottle?"
"Honestly?" Bobby chewed thoughtfully on a newly-provided cheddar biscuit, trying not to eat with his mouth open and (mostly) succeeding. "I... huh. I guess not a lot, but it sometimes popped up?" Realizing his phraseology, he raised a finger skyward and wagged it back and forth a little. "Not a word, dude. I heard it too."
Miles shut his mouth at Bobby's command, swallowing the comment he had readied. "I still feel bad about it," he admitted once Bobby lowered his warning finger. "I didn't do it on purpose. It just happened. But I should've controlled myself. So, I'm sorry. Next time, permission before tongue, promise."
"Hey, nothing to be sorry about, because it's a good thing, this whole... y'know." Bobby mimicked Miles' earlier gesture. "Just because I never really thought about it doesn't mean it isn't good. I mean, there's a lot of things I don't think about. Like, a ton of stuff." Mostly school-related, which was why he hadn't pursued anything beyond his high school degree at that point. He shrugged to punctuate the thought. "Doesn't make it bad."
"No, I just mean, you know. Words. And not in front of a bunch of strangers. It's like, the least romantic way to let you know I'm interested. Especially when I didn't know 'til it happened, either, you know what I mean? Like, we started off on not a good foot, and I dunno if that's a bad omen, or, like, it can only go up from here."
"Let's just go with the latter, yeah?" They only had soft drinks now but Bobby paused raiding the cheddar biscuit basket long enough to hoist his for a toast just the same.
"Salud."
