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“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. “I’ll eat my apron if you were actually a scout but… I’m glad you’ll be on your best behavior. I just hope nottoogood.” 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 a complete disaster.”
“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 beenproperlykissed, 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.
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 sibling wide berth, though when he learned Oliver was going on an actual date, he couldn’t stop himself from taking the piss.
“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 brushed his hair into a very careful pompadour. “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-rumpled 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, then turned to his sibling. “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 sibling 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 sort. I tried to chat him up when we first met, but he wasn’t having any of it.”
“That’s because you’re an even worse walking disaster than I am,” 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 fancies 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—you can go on an actual, proper date.”
