I'd Order Love

by aintweproudriff

Summary:

When blind date newbie Elmer is set up with serial-dater Spot, a casual drink at a busy New York restaurant turns into a hilarious high-stakes dinner.

A First Date the Musical au

Notes:

i saw first date and knew i had to do this. originally it was going to be sprace but then, well. elmer.

Updates will be sporadic and will change perspectives on and off. this first one is Elmer's perspective

Chapter 1: The One/First Impressions/Bailout #1

Summary:

First Chapter is from Elmer's POV

Elmer had heard all the stories about blind dates. He’d listened to countless friends go on and on about how they had met up with people who lied about their weights, ages, and even genders just to go on dates with strangers. Nightmare dates who talked about getting married before they’d even said their names, or revealed some terrifying secret about themself before the food came. But he’d never been on a blind date, and he didn’t know anything about how it would go.
How did it start? You walk up to the person and say, “Hey, I think I’m your date for the night. Hope I don’t look like a creep, because this feels super creepy.” And that was only the first minute of it. Then there was - hopefully - the rest of the night, where you just tried not to seem tragic, like one of the statistics you hear in online dating advertisements where you hear about all the people who don’t end up happy. You just wanted to run away (or so Elmer had heard), but you sit in your seat, nearly paralyzed because you know that if you leave early, it could ruin the whole thing, and then you’ll never find someone who loves you. But you couldn’t ever drop the act or give the idea that you’re not a perfect person, lest you let them know about all the times that so many relationships had gone wrong, or the way that you wondered at night if you were truly unloveable. It was so damn hard to do, like a battle to stay afloat on the most awkward night of your life.
And really? The whole thing was super messed up. Why pretend to be someone you’re not, if you’re hoping to form a relationship that’s going to last you the rest of your life? Why not just be yourself?
Elmer had decided that was his best option. After all, there were plenty of things someone would like about him. He was funny, and smart, and at least a little attractive, or he never would have dated people in the past. He would go with the flow, because it might lead to something great. He wasn’t asking for someone to walk down the aisle with him, at least not yet, but he knew he needed something more than what he’d been doing: sitting at home, alone, wishing he was still in a relationship. Truth was that he really didn’t know where this would lead. This could be the night he would find a person who was the one for him. He doubted it, sure, but it was possible.

He got to the restaurant early, still dressed in the suit he wore for work. The building, a tiny hole-in-the-wall place with a hipster atmosphere, made him nervous. By all accounts, that didn’t make sense; it should have been calming. It was cute, but something about the lighting and the edgy music playing set him on edge. This wasn’t really his scene. He should just go.

“Are you waiting for a table?” he heard, and turned to see a short, skinny man in an apron walking up to him.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Elmer said, more as a question than a statement. “Maybe just the bar. I wanna see how the drinks potion goes before we get to the meal. Wouldn’t wanna be too presumptuous.”

The waiter pressed his lips together. “I see. Uh, can I get you something while you wait? Beer, vodka?” He looked Elmer up and down. “Maybe something stronger?”

“Yeah,” Elmer nodded, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll have a, uh, a beer. Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Do you care what kind?” prompted the waiter.

“No! I mean, uh,” Elmer’s feet bounced underneath him. “Something on tap, please. In a big glass. Like, a nice, big glass of beer. Manly, you know?”

The waiter raised his eyebrows. “Is this a first date?”

“Oh my god, is it that obvious?”

He nodded. “You look, uh, nervous.”

“Okay, well, duh,” Elmer’s eyes bulged. “Nervous in a cute way or nervous in like, a dorky way?”

“I’d have to say the second.”

Elmer sighed in frustration. “Fuck. What do I do, he’s going to get here any minute?”

“Uh, just lose the tie,” the waiter suggested. Elmer hurried to do as he was told. “And unbutton those top two buttons. Yeah, that looks, uh, better,” he said, as if he weren’t really sure.

“Well. Thank you,” Elmer sucked in air through his teeth and made his way back to the bar. A couple minutes passed in which the door to the restaurant swung open and shut multiple times. He was in the middle of a big swig of beer when he heard someone.

“Hi!”

Elmer turned around to look at who was talking. A man, short but with arms that, quite frankly, looked like they could rip open a pumpkin, was holding out his hand.

“Spot,” he said. “You must be-”

“Elmer. Nice to meet you,” he said, walking over and holding out his hand, just as Spot lowered his into a seemingly open stance. “Oh! Nice to meet you,” Elmer repeated as he held his arms out to hug Spot, who quickly lurched back.

“Oh, hey!” Spot said, his arms going up defensively.

Elmer took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I don’t really know what the rules are here. Is this a hug thing or a handshake thing or-”

“Let’s start with the handshake and see where it goes,” Spot said, holding his hand out again.

“Fair enough,” Elmer nodded, giving his best business-casual handshake. “Uh, sorry again. I’m an idiot, I guess,” he shook his head playfully, and instantly hating that he said it, too worried that he would sound self-deprecating in front of this incredible looking guy. “Let’s take a seat!” He pointed towards the bar. “Can I order you a drink?”

“No,” Spot said, gruffly but graciously. “I ordered when I came in, thanks. What are you drinking?”

And this was the small talk that Elmer hated so much. “Oh, uh, nothing special. Just a little brewskey.”

Shit.

“Did you just say ‘brewskey’?” Spot said, pausing the process of taking off his leather jacket and letting it hang off of one arm to smile.

Elmer swallowed and nodded. “I sure did. And if it makes you feel any better, I regretted it the second it came out of my mouth.”

Spot smiled again, setting his jacket on the ground and straightening his back as he sat down. “Are you okay, Elmer? You seem a little nervous.”

“Well, that’s because I am. I don’t really go on a lot of blind dates,” he ran a hand through his hair nervously, watching as Spot leaned over the bar and rested his elbows on the wood. “I’ve kind of never been on one. Ever.”

“Well, don’t be,” Spot said, “because the more nervous you get, the more I want to make a run for the door.”

The waiter brought him a shot and a cocktail, which he downed, in what Elmer regarded to be the most badass fashion possible.

Elmer blinked. “Wow. What’s that about?”

Spot rolled his head around lazily. “It’s called ‘taking the edge off,’” he said with a serious tone. “Maybe you should try it. Now,” he patted the barstool next to him, “can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Elmer sat down. “I’m an open book.”

“If you’ve never been on a blind date, why go now?”

Elmer smiled, feeling a tinge of blush in his cheeks. “Well, I’ll be honest with you. Your brother, Crutchie-”

“I’m aware of his name,” Spot raised his eyebrows.

“-Right. His husband Jack said that you were really cute. And that I would be an idiot to pass up a date with someone like you,” Elmer answered him. “So I decided to risk it all and here I am. What about you?”

Spot shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “Crutchie said you look like Zac Efron.”

Elmer almost spit out his drink.

“But uh,” Spot leaned back. “Do you agree with Jack?”

Elmer wiped his face, hoping there wasn’t beer on it. “About what?”

“Am I really cute?” he asked with a shrug.

He drew in a breath. “You can’t ask me that. Isn’t that like, against blind date rules or something?”

“You said you’re an open book,” Spot asked challengingly.

So here’s the thing. Spot was really tough. And hip, and cool. Just like every single boy that Elmer had a crush on in high school, and every boy Elmer had ever cried over after being rejected. Spot was really rugged, and pretty hot. Which, Elmer knew, were two things that he certainly wasn’t. He looked like the kind of person who was permanently pissed off at something, and Elmer tried not to freak out at the idea that that was actually kind of arousing.

Then again, that was only a first impression. Elmer knew nothing about Spot.

“I’m waiting,” Spot stuck his head out towards Elmer, stopping him from going down the path of even dreaming of all the things Spot could be that Elmer would never guess.

“Uh, yeah. You are very,” Elmer faltered, “pleasant looking.”

“Pleasant looking?” Spot asked, brushing some hair out of his face and looking disappointed.

“No! I mean, uh,” Elmer tried to recover, knowing he might have just totally lost everything. “Attractive, or desirable, or handsome! How about, uh, all of the above?”

Spot rolled his eyes, but shifted his body language, which gave Elmer the idea that maybe he hadn’t fucked it up.

“And what about me?” Elmer blurted out. “I mean, would you call the Zac Efron description accurate? What adjectives would you use to describe me?”

All the color drained from Spot’s face, but he recovered with a joke. “You’re a dead ringer for Zefron,” he said with a sarcastic nod before he cringed. “But, uh. There’s so many adjectives I could use. I wouldn’t really know where to start.”

Elmer nodded. No matter what, all of this was just a first impression. He didn’t know Spot at all, really. And there had been instances in the past where a person had been great on a first date and then awful to actually go out with later on. So maybe there was hope here.

He decided to change the subject. “So, uh, now what do we do?”

Spot shook his head. “What do you mean?’

“Well, since I’ve never been on one of these,” Elmer explained, “and you’re kind of the expert-”

“Who told you I’m the expert?”

Elmer licked his lip. “Jack. Ugh, I’m sorry. He told me that, and if he’s wrong, then I’m so so so sorry.”

“No,” Spot said, his voice falsely kind. “No. He’s not wrong. I mean, he’s wrong to tell you that before you met me, but he’s not lying. I’m a serial dater,” his tone softened.

Elmer laughed. “Well, uh, it’s clear that I am not very good at this. Do you enjoy blind dates, Spot?” he asked, hoping to get back to the easy small talk.

“Oh, fuck no,” Spot breathed, annoyed at the idea. “I hate them with my whole being.”

“Then why go on so many?”

“Because I think it’s important to put yourself out there,” he replied decisively. “And I guess you never know when the next leap of faith will take you somewhere great.”

“Okay, okay,” Elmer bobbed his head, happy to be getting through the angry exterior. “So have you gone on some bad ones?”

“Oh no.” Spot’s eyes got big. “Elmer, you really do need my help, don’t you. We’re not doing that, the whole talking about ex-relationships thing. It’s way too early in the night for me to talk about other men with you. That’s like, the first rule of dating.”

Elmer held up his hands in mock-surrender. “See, I did not know that. What things should we be talking about?”

“Y’know,” Spot bumped Elmer’s arm. “Small talk.”

“Good to know! Keep things light and breezy, alright,” Elmer nodded. “So, uh, where are you from?”

“Brooklyn,” Spot said, and his eyes gleamed.

A ringtone sounded at just that moment. Spot’s phone screen lit up the wood of the bar, and Elmer could barely read the name of the person who was calling him: Race.

“Do you need to get that?” Elmer asked.

“Um,” Spot seemed to seriously consider it. “No. It’s okay, I don’t need it. Just my friend.”

Chapter 2: The Girl for You/Awkward Pause/Alison's Theme #1

Notes:

i know i said it was going to switch on and off povs but im dumb and didn't plan it right, so this is also elmer's pov.
I highly recommend you go watch the musical if you haven't, since this is basically a transcription of that but I'm also leaving out some hilarious bits.

“So um, Brooklyn, huh? That’s cool.”

“Yeah,” Spot nodded. “I loved it. It’s loud and totally nuts, but you always find something new. And in my neighborhood,” he explained, and Elmer listened closely, “everybody knows everybody. You’re never alone.”

“Oh my god, you never knew anyone who went to Camp Mile, did you?” Elmer asked, his tone disbelieving.

Spot leaned in. “Yeah! Did you go there?”

“Only for six summers,” Elmer grinned, remembering every year he’d spent there.

“Really? My neighbor Jessica Sheinfeld went there.”

“Jessica Sheinfeld, huh?” Elmer rested his head in his hands. “Yeah, I remember her, I think.”

“She only went there for one summer, actually,” Spot said, obviously losing himself in the thought of his old neighbor. “She fell in love with this total prick, Albert.”

Fuck.

“They had this really intense two week romance,” Spot carried on, oblivious to Elmer’s sudden paralysis. “And then at the end of camp, she found out that he was hooking up with two other girls and two other guys. Can you believe that shit?” he laughed, stirring his drink.

“Um,” Elmer tapped his fingers nervously on the table. “Is this Albert DaSilva?”

“Yes,” Spot nodded, excited. “How did you know that?”

Elmer sucked in a breath. “He’s been my best friend since we were four.”

“Oh. And things were just looking up between us two,” Spot leaned back in his seat.

“No, no, no!” Elmer said, sitting straight up defensively. “You’re right! He was a prick, and still is. A total jerk. Let’s move past that; what school did you go to?”

Spot’s answer gave Elmer a little hope that he could still save this.

“Oh! Did you know, uh,” he tried to recall the name. “Josh Baumgartner?”

“Kicked his ass in lacrosse,” Spot said casually.

“Amy Hersch?”

“She sat next to me in art class.”

“Okay, okay, here’s a good one,” Elmer grinned. “Nathan Davidson?”

“Oh my god,” Spot punctuated every word clearly. “Nathan ‘do you wanna see a magic trick’,” he said, wiggling his hands like they were magic and making his voice sound nasally, “Davidson? You knew that freak?”

Elmer breathed in disbelief. “Worse. He was my roomate for three summers. You know how many times he told me to-”

“Pick a card, any card?” Spot asked, and Elmer threw his hands up, nodding.

“Oh my god,” Elmer panted, laughing too hard to catch his breath. “Shall we continue playing Jewish geography? I can give you like ten more names.”

“Yeah,” Spot agreed, pointing a finger and smiling like he was up to something. “I’m good at this game, even if I’m not Jewish.”

Elmer heard the alarms going off.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Spot tilted his head. “I said I’m not Jewish.”

Yep. Elmer’s grandma was turning in her grave. He could almost hear her voice, passive aggressively telling him that he was breaking her heart by dating Spot Conlon and not Samuel Stein. Actually, his whole family would be all too willing to tell him that this wouldn’t be the girl for him if he dared to bring her home. And if his family would be pissed, what about Spot’s family? Would they be Christian? And would they be the kind of Christian that thought he was ruining Spot’s life simply by being Jewish and gay? If this lasted, what about holidays? Of course people could celebrate Jewish and Christian holidays, but Elmer knew it was hard to do. And then if this were to last even longer, what about kids? What would the kids celebrate or believe in. There was a chance that they would be super messed up from the mixing of religion, and even hate their parents. What a disaster that would be!

“So you’re not Jewish, huh? Not even a little?” Elmer asked, trying to be hopeful.

“No, not even a little. Is that a problem for you, Elmer?”

He shrugged. “No, not for me. Just maybe like, my family members or your family members or future… family members.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I’ve never been a big church person anyway,” Spot said, his hand resting on the table.

“So you don’t have, like, a million crosses on your wall or pudgy little angels all over your house?”

“No,” he laughed. “My parents never really cared about any of that, so I’m actually more of an atheist.”

“Oh,” Elmer wrinkled his eyebrows. “So you don’t believe in God at all?”

“Is this your way of keeping things light and breezy?” Spot asked, putting the last three words in quotes.

“Right! Sorry,” Elmer held up his hand in surrender. “So, what’s your favorite color?”

“No. You know what?” Spot asked, answering his own question immediately. “You’re new at this, so I’ll allow it. To answer your question, I do believe in a higher power. But I also honestly think organized religion is so-”

Elmer tuned out for half a second to watch a waiter walk by, carrying a stack of plates as high as his arm was long.

“-that any actual spirituality is obscured,” Spot finished his thought. “And I’m a big believer in the now. Since I tend to get in my head sometimes, I try really hard to seperate my thoughts and my action in an attempt to do what feels right to me in the moment.”

“Right! And,” Elmer leaned forward. “How is that working out for you?”

“Not so well. I have a hard time silencing my inner critic.”

“Oh,” Elmer bobbed his head. “Tell me about it.”

“Really? You do too?” Spot asked.

“Yeah, my inner critic won’t shut up right now.”

“Well,” Spot leaned forward. “What’s he saying?”

Elmer rolled his eyes. “Get out of this date as quickly as possible!”

“Are you making fun of me, Elmer?”

Shit. “No, no, it was a joke! A really bad joke.”

“You brought this up,” Spot said, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I didn’t want to talk about it. It’s too bad you’re so closed minded about this. A little meditation and self-reflection could actually probably really help you.”

“You’re right,” Elmer gave in, “you are absolutely right. That could be good, uh, for you and for me and for, uh, the people. The whole world.”

And now it was awkward. Spot didn’t say anything, and neither did Elmer for a few deadly minutes. He thought he was being clever, but he had just sounded dumb. For a second, Elmer wanted to make a dash for it, like his alleged inner critic had told him. But that would have been incredibly rude, especially after what had just happened. And really, he didn’t want to leave; he wanted to be having as much fun as he was having before he fucked up. He would have done so many agonizing things to get out of it.

“Hey, you know what?” Elmer said, breaking the silence. “I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t understand what you meant, so I made a joke instead of listening. That wasn’t cool.”

“I’m sorry too,” Spot held out his hands, “I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive. I just like to talk about it so much, and people usually look at me like I’m a mental patient when I do. I think it’s actually a good thing to get to know each other like this.”

“You’re right. It is a good thing, and that’s why I’m done doing that,” Elmer promised. “No more crazy looks from me.”

“Glad to hear it.”

A beat passed, and then Elmer blurted out the first thing in his mind.

“OMG, did we just like totally have our first fight?”

“OMG,” Spot replied, dropping the tough face for a second, much to Elmer’s surprise, “I think we kinda did.”

“We totes did. And we totes got through it,” he added, leaning back into his chair. “No cuts or bruises.”

“Barely any,” Spot smiled.

“Maybe there’s some hope here after all,” Elmer lifted his beer and went to clink it against Spot’s glass, but he took a sip instead of cheersing and Elmer quickly made it look like he was about to do the same.

“Oh my god,” Spot said. “So if you know Jack, then do you know his and Crutchie’s kids?”

“Yes, they’re great,” Elmer grinned. “So many of them though, the two of them must be superheroes to deal with all of that.”

“Oh, I know what you mean. And you know, we’re not all meant to be parents,” Spot said.

Elmer tilted his head to the left. “So you don’t want kids?”

“No, I do,” Spot said, thinking about it. “Someday.”

“Yeah, me too,” Elmer couldn’t help but feel a little wistful. “I want a big family, actually. Can’t you see that, a bunch of little Elmers running around?”

“I can, actually,” Spot looked at Elmer’s face, and then at his chest. “All in their little suits.”

“Y’know, that’s funny,” Elmer said. “My ex used to say that, uh-”

And then, like the voice of God, he heard Albert’s high-pitched squeak in his mind.

“No!” Albert shouted. “You don’t talk about your ex on a first date! We’ve been over this a million times!”

But Adrian had been such a big part of Elmer’s life, even if things had ended rather poorly and he’d been, well, kind of a dick.

Spot broke into his thoughts. “Your ex used to say what?”

“Uh, nothing! I mean, he was, uh, mute.”

Spot looked surprised, but didn’t question it.

“Can we change the subject?” Elmer asked, and was thankful when Spot nodded.

Chapter 3: The Internet/That's Why You Love Me/Bailout #2/Safer

Summary:

Spot's POV!

Notes:

im under so much stress yall and writing helps so here

“Absolutely,” Spot said, willing to get off of any topic that might bring up another boy. “Um, tell me about work.”

Elmer’s shoulders relaxed. “Can do,” he said, “what would you like to know?”

“Well, what do you do, exactly?”

“Corporate finance,” Elmer answered assuredly. “Investment banking, mostly, but sometimes I fiddle around with acquisitions and stuff like that,” he wiggled his hand a little, to show flexibility.

“Oh, wow,” Spot said sarcastically. “That sounds really riveting.”

Elmer rolled his eyes. “Well, you know,” he smiled, “it’s not the sexiest job or the most exciting, but it pays the bills.”

The waiter set down refills of their drinks, and Spot took a long drink of his. “Yeah, sure,” he flinched at the sour taste in his mouth, “but does it, like, fulfill your soul?”

“It, uh, fulfills my - sole - purpose,” Elmer said, suddenly fidgety, “of making money.”

“Oh, okay,” Spot finally understood Elmer’s way of life. “So you’re one of those. That’s it for you: making money, huh?”

“Well, yeah,” Elmer confirmed Spot’s fears, “for now at least. What’s it all about for you? Jack told me you work at an art gallery, has that always been what you wanted to do?”

Elmer’s question was a little confrontational, something that Spot normally didn’t like much. But the way he asked it, the way he leaned it, gave Spot the impression that he truly wanted to know. And so Spot gave him an honest answer.

“Well, no,” Spot ran a hand through the front of his hair. “But it’s creative and it gives me a way to study my craft.”

“And that is-”

“Photography.”

“Oh!” Elmer shot up. “You’re a photographer?”

“Yeah,” Spot said, and then something inside him felt bad for bluffing to this guy. “Well, not really. I mean, I do a little bit. I used to do a little bit. Mostly I, uh, own a camera.”

Elmer chuckled. “Well, what kinda things do you do at the gallery? I mean, do you pick out the pieces yourself?”

“Sometimes, why?”

“I just thought that exhibit you did a few weeks ago was pretty awesome,” Elmer said, and took a sip of his beer.

This stunned Spot. “Thank you, uh, I didn’t really get much credit for that one.”

“Well you deserve it,” Elmer shrugged. “It was really well done.”

“Thank you. Uh,” Spot realized. “Wait a second. How did you know about that?”

Elmer almost choked on his drink. “Well, I uh, may have done a little online research.”

“You googled me?” Spot asked, his legs suddenly turning to jelly.

“Well, yeah,” Elmer said, as if it were obvious. “I had to know a little bit of what I was getting myself into, didn’t I?”

“Uh, okay, sure,” Spot pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “Since you googled me, I think I should get to google you.”

Elmer’s face paled. For a second, Spot felt bad for him, until he remembered all the pictures from MySpace that were probably - no, definitely - still on the Internet.

“Okay,” Spot said, pulling up the search page. “Why do you look orange in this photo?”

“Spring break, sophomore year,” Elmer answered.

“Oh, here’s one of you in a dress and makeup,” Spot laughed and showed his date. “Looks pretty good, ever done drag?”

“My first attempt right there.”

“Okay, why are you humping a dinosaur skeleton in this one?”

Elmer grimaced. “Fraternity hazing ritual?”

Spot gasped. “This is the best one. In your high school performance of “Hello, Dolly!” you played Dolly?”

Elmer cleared his throat, clearly ready to defend himself. The response was simple: “I went to an all-boys school,” he explained, “and no one wanted to do it. I figured that I was already the gay kid, why not live up to the stereotype?”

“Oh,” Spot wrinkled his face. “That’s kinda sad. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Elmer waved it off. “The teasing let up after a while, and the school newspaper called my performance ‘oddly compelling,’ so…”

“Hm,” Spot nodded.

“Could we, uh, give it up? I mean, I saw all those pictures of you already. Even your mugshot, Jesus,” Elmer said, laughing a little. “Don’t worry, I know it wasn’t anything big. But I don’t really want to make fun of you for that stuff. We’ve both got some things on the Internet that we’re not proud of, alright?”

“Fine,” Spot relented. “Guns back in their holsters.”

“Thank you,” Elmer sighed. “I kinda hate it, how on the Internet you can find out anything about a person before you even meet them.”

“I know! It’s like, god forbid you talk to someone in real life or get to know them or, I mean, touch them!” Spot leaned over and, for dramatic effect, laid a hand on Elmer’s hand. Elmer smiled widely, but jerked his hand away when the waiter came by.

“How’s everyone doing over here?” The waiter asked.

“Incredible!” Elmer almost giggled. “I mean, uh,” he smoothed out his shirt. “Good.”

“Can I get you two anything more to drink?”

Spot looked at Elmer, waiting to see what he would get.

“Actually, Spot,” Elmer asked, “I’m hungry. Do you want to move to an actual table and get some food?”

“I could eat,” Spot nodded, and the two of them followed the waiter to the table.

Spot could practically hear Crutchie’s voice in his head. “What was that hand move, Spot? You know that if you want something like what Jack and I have, you have to start taking it slow! You can’t just let him swoop in, you need to make it a game, okay? Landing a good guy is a marathon, not a sprint to fucktown!”

What did Crutchie know anyway? What he and Jack had was sweet, sure, but it wasn’t really what Spot wanted.

Elmer was already looking over the menu. “Does anything look good to you?”

“Hm,” Spot read it over. “I was thinking maybe the charbroiled burger with cheese french fries.”

And there was Crutchie’s voice again. “Fuck you!” it said. “You’re not getting that! You’re getting a salad, to show him that you care about your health!”

“Uh, what are you getting?” Spot asked Elmer.

“I dunno. The chopped salad looks good.”

And as soon as the waiter returned, Spot ordered the salad and Elmer got the burger.

“I thought you were going to-”

“I thought you were going to-”

The two of them pointed at each other, then Spot shrugged, but Elmer persisted.

“You’re not one of those boys who thinks they have to order a salad to show that they’re skinny, right?” Elmer asked, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table.

“No!” Spot said, truthfully. He didn’t do that. It was the worse angels of his nature that did that to him.

“Good, because I think that’s the dumbest thing ever,” Elmer shook his head. “At the end of the day, looks will go. But if someone can make you laugh, and make you happy to be around them, then that’s what really matters, right?”

Oh. That was really sweet and meaningful. Elmer was genuinely a really good guy, wasn’t he? And he was cute, and excitable - a bit like a puppy, but in a really good way. Spot almost wondered if maybe-

No. He remembered every guy he’d ever dated in the past. They were all different, of course, but they were really all the same. Most of them had been arrested, and many of them had been arrested multiple times while they were dating. Most of them hadn’t finished college; some of them had dropped out of high school. Too many smoked weed, or cigarettes, or drank too much, or ignored him. And yet there had always been something so thrilling about kissing breath that smelled like smoke and lips that left no promise that they would ever return. It had been so fun to pretend nothing mattered, that it was going to work out for him in the end. A part of him - a big, strong part - wanted that rush back.
There was no denying it, really. Spot Conlon liked bad boys. So what the fuck was he doing here, with this sensitive, hoity-toity, high-strung guy who probably cried at dog commercials?

“Elmer?” he started, overcome with a need to know. “Have you ever been arrested?”

“Arrested? Lord, no. I mean,” Elmer shook his head, “I got a parking ticket last year, but I paid it off pretty easily.”

“Hm. Um, have you ever done drugs? Weed, shrooms? Meth?”

“No, never,” Elmer said, clearly concerned. “Why?”

Spot sighed. “Look, El, you’re a great guy. I just don’t think you’re really my type.”

“Because I’ve never done drugs?” Elmer asked, his eyebrows close together. “That seems really strange.”

“No, not because of that, really,” Spot shook his head angrily. “Just because, like, you’re so - I don’t know - stuffy? And that’s not a bad thing, it’s just not good for me. I’m really more attracted to guys who are rebellious, and it’s obvious that that’s not you. But you’re the one for someone, I promise.”

Elmer leaned forward. “I’m confused, I thought this was going really well. What changed?”

“I don’t know. Something did. Look,” Spot went to grab his jacket, “I’ve made things awkward, so maybe it’s best if I just leave.”

“-No!”

Spot hadn’t even stood up yet, but he turned back to Elmer.

“I mean, we’ve already ordered,” Elmer said, painfully casually, “so you should stay. And even if I’m not your type, you could stay and we could be, um, friends.”

“You’ve got a good point,” Spot conceded, turning to sit back in his chair.

“I know I do,” Elmer said, teasing. “Who doesn’t need more friends?”

Spot thought he saw a flash of a frown on Elmer’s face, but it disappeared. It could have just been a trick of the light, and not Spot’s fault, he told himself. Not that he really cared if it was his fault. Elmer wasn’t his date anymore. But still, you don’t hurt your friends, right?

“Yeah, I guess it’d be okay to stay for a while,” Spot agreed.

“Good. Good,” Elmer nodded, awkwardly. “Friends.”

“Friends.”

With impeccably awful timing, Spot’s phone rang, and he pulled it out. It was Race, for the second time that night, probably feeling bored and neglected because Spot wasn’t answering him.

“Do you need to get that?” Elmer asked, almost hopeful.

“Nope. That’s what voicemails are for,” Spot smiled, hitting decline. “I’d much rather stay here and eat a meal with my friend.”

“Yeah! Friendships are like the flowers in the garden of life, right?” Elmer asked, his smile plastered on his face like he’d cut his cheeks open. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to go to the bathroom. Maybe I’ll drown in the sink, who knows?”

Fuck.

Crutchie’s voice was back in Spot’s head. “So,” Crutchie asked, “how does it feel to be a relationship killer?”

He just wished Crutchie would let it go, but he continued.

“I don’t get it, Spot. You say you want something like what Jack and I have, and then as soon as you find it, you squash it,” his voice was more accusing than normal, but just as right as ever. “You’ve really got a problem with your fear of commitment. Can you talk to me? I’m your brother, and I don’t get these walls you put up. You know what I think? You’re afraid of getting hurt. It’s the same thing that happened at your photography show; it wasn’t that the show wasn’t ready, it was that you weren’t ready. You had all these amazing photos, and a gallery that wanted to show them, but at the last second, you pulled out. It’s been the same thing with every guy you’ve ever dated.”

Okay, so maybe Crutchie - the voice of Crutchie - was right. Spot had some issues, and he had tried to face them and let go, but it felt like every time, he just couldn’t. Maybe he was too attached to the things that kept him down. It might have been because of the deadbeat dad, that’s always a surefire way to fuck someone over. Maybe it was the crazy mom and then the moving to foster homes, where he met Crutchie. The only thing Spot really knew was that he had been alone when he was born, and that had never really changed. And where was the value in some kid, abandoned and all but thrown out on the street? A kid who learned early on that no one cares, so don’t expect anyone to care. If he relied on himself, he could always trust that there would be at least one person to fall back on.

Yeah, now he had Crutchie, and a new mom, and even Jack and his nieces and nephews who loved him. But those weren’t the kind of relationships he saw in the movies, the kind where some guy would sweep him off his feet. And in the real world, no one came to carry him off; they were deadbeats and jerks, every one of them. At least then they didn’t let him down, since he’d had no standards for them to begin with. He’d learned, over time, that it was safer to make sure that he himself was in control, and not the one who got hurt.

But if he wanted someone to fall in love with him, and really fall for the real him, then why build up walls?

Notes:

poor Spot

Chapter 4: I'd Order Love/Alison's Theme #2/The Things I Never Said

Summary:

Spot's POV once again

Footsteps sounded from behind Spot’s chair.

“Hey,” he said, turning around, “you’re back.”

“Yeah, uh,” Elmer cleared his throat. “I think I’m actually going to take off.”

“Why? The food hasn’t even come yet.”

Elmer grabbed his coat from off the back of the chair and put it on, never making eye contact with Spot. “Yeah, I know friend. But it’s getting kinda late, friend.”

“Okay, clearly you’re mad at me now,” Spot sighed.

“No, of course I’m not mad at you, friend! Friends don’t get mad at friends, friend,” he explained, and Spot heard enough sarcasm to feed a family of four. “I’m just, uh, adjusting to this newly found friendship and I think I’d rather do that alone. That’s all, friend-o.”

“Okay, fine,” Spot nodded. “You win, have it your way. Let’s just get the check.”

“Finally, something we agree on,” as Elmer stepped to the bar, a waiter came by with the food. He handed Elmer a burger and Spot a salad.

“Actually,” Elmer started to say, “we-

 

“I think you’re being rude, Elmer,” Spot interrupted him. “We can still have one meal together, can’t we?”

“Sure. One very quick meal.”

They ate in silence for a moment, and then Elmer leaned forward. “So, what now?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“After you’ve broken your blind date’s spirits, made them incredibly self-conscious, and convinced them beyond a shadow of a doubt that they don’t have a shot in hell with you, what do you normally talk about?” Elmer clarified, and then added, “The weather?”

Spot cleared his throat. “Elmer, you’ve got two choices here. You can be angry for the rest of the meal - and no one’s going to blame you for that. It makes sense to be angry. Or you could take advantage of this golden opportunity you’ve got here.”

“What ‘golden opportunity’?”

“I know lots of hot, single guys,” Spot said bluntly. “And if you’re okay with the fact that I’ve probably casually hooked up with half of them, then I could very well set you up with a couple.”

“Okay,” Elmer gave in, a little too quickly, “so maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way. Maybe it’s not me and you, maybe it’s me and-”

“-lots of other guys,” Spot finished for him.

“Fine,” Elmer shrugged, falsely calm. “Who did you have in mind to set me up with?”

“That depends,” Spot answered, ignoring whatever the stabbing feeling in his chest was. “What’s your type?”

Elmer seemed to get lost for a minute, considering the question.

“You know what?” he said, seeming to shake something out of his head. “I trust you. Give me whoever you think would be best.”

A voice in the back of Spot’s head whispered: “me,” but Spot paid it no mind. He’d already been over why that was a lie. Bad boys, remember?

“Okay,” Spot thought it through. “Do you want a nice boy that you can bring home to mommy and daddy, or would you prefer a challenge?”

“I think dad would be happy with anything, at this point,” Elmer half-laughed, taking a bite.

“And mom? Oh, no,” Spot laughed, “let me guess. Will you always be her ‘adowable widdle boy’ and no man will ever be good enough for her baby?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Elmer’s hand traced his cheekbone idly.

“She wants to keep you all to herself?” Spot rolled his eyes, thinking himself hilarious. “Is she, like, one of those overbearing Jewish moms who-”

“My mom’s dead, Spot,” Elmer said, and Spot’s heart dropped to his stomach. “She died when I was in the tenth grade. Before that, she was always working and I barely ever saw her.”

His legs went numb. “Wow, I feel like a total ass.”

“Why? Don’t.”

“I had no idea,” Spot apologized. “I guess I just assumed-”

“I came from some perfect, drama free home?” Elmer asked, sarcastically but not meanly. “Yeah, I had been picking up on that.”

“So how did she-” Spot began, and then stopped himself, scooting away to put physical distance between himself and Elmer. “I’m sorry. Do you mind talking about it?”

“It’s not exactly first date material,” Elmer said, and Spot nodded in understanding. “But I guess that we’re no longer on a date, so it’s ripe for discussion.”

“So how did it happen?” Spot asked, still not convinced he wasn’t being rude.

“She was born with a heart defect,” Elmer explained. “Most people can live their whole lives with it, but she had a really stressful job at a law firm. She was never easy on herself, which made it a lot worse.”

Elmer was definitely being too casual about the whole thing. Granted, this had happened about a decade ago, but still.

“By the time she was showing symptoms, it was almost too late. She was rushed into an emergency surgery, and something went wrong in the operation.” Elmer paused for a moment. “Why am I telling you all this?”

“Because I’m a good listener,” Spot answered honestly. “And I know I haven’t shown it tonight, but the dark secret about me is that I’m actually a sensitive person. Did you get a chance to say goodbye?”

“Yeah,” Elmer said, rubbing his hand across his leg. “Briefly. It was right before the surgery, it was really rushed. We didn’t know what was going to happen. The crazy thing was, though, that a few days later I was going through my sock drawer. I was trying to find a pair of matching socks for the funeral.”

Spot put his head down, imagining a fifteen or sixteen year old Elmer choosing socks for his mother’s funeral. That wasn’t right.

“I found a letter she had written, right before she went into the hospital,” he put his hand on the table. “I guess she thought there was a good chance she wouldn’t be coming home, and there were some things she wanted to tell me.”

“What did the letter say?”

Elmer took a deep breath and began talking. “It’s not easy to express the way I feel, but you probably know that about me and about life by now.”

Of course he had it memorized.

“I haven’t been the perfect mom,” Elmer continued, “but please know that I tried to do the best I could. I don’t know what’s about to happen next, but I know what’s happened in the past few years. I haven’t been there for you; I was too consumed with work. It would be fair if you thought I had forgotten about you. I wanted to be there, but I let you down. I was too concerned with money to realize what was most important: my son. I have a million other things to say, and I should have said them when I had time. Love, mom.”

As Elmer repeated the words he must have read a million times, Spot’s heart stabbed at the walls of his chest. It hurt for Elmer, who didn’t deserve to have had this kind of hurt in his life.

“I’m not going to make the same mistakes as my mom,” Elmer said, quietly, like a promise.

Spot admired that. Elmer had lost his mom at a young age, but still managed to be funny, and dorky, and smart, and undeniably him. More than that, he was growing from the pain he’d felt. Spot almost just wanted to wrap Elmer up in a blanket and not let anything hurt him ever.

-Oh god. Did he kind of love Elmer?

Notes:

Thanks for reading, I hope you love this story as much as I do. Make sure to leave a comment to convince me to keep writing!

Chapter 5: Bailout #3/In Love With You/The Check

Summary:

Spot's POV

Notes:

in love with you is such a bop. if you only listen to one song from first date, it should be that one

“I’m sorry,” Elmer said, hearing Spot’s phone ring. “I’m being depressing. Do you need to get that?”

“No,” Spot shook his head decisively. It was just Race again. He’d be sure to call Race back eventually, so as not to worry him. But this was more important than his friend being a little bored.

“Uh, in that case, could you stop staring at me with your mouth open like that?” Elmer grimaced. “Because you’re starting to make me feel like-”

“No, I’m sorry!” Spot put his hands on the table. “I’m just uh, rarely surprised by somebody, and you just really surprised me.”

“Why? Because my mom died?” Elmer said, defensively but kindly. “Trust me, that’s the tip of the iceberg here. Wait until I tell you about my cousins, or my Aunt Carol. She stole a fire hydrant off of Seventh Avenue and-”

Spot cut him off. “No, I’m surprised by how open and honest you are, Elmer. Most people aren’t like that. Most people put up walls.”

“I told you right up front that I was an open book, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah you did,” Spot picked at his food.

“How’s your salad?” Elmer asked, obviously unsure of how to continue.

“It’s good,” Spot half-heartedly moved a piece of lettuce to the side. “Do you want a bite?”

“Sure, why not? Do you want a bite of this?” He pointed to the burger, and the two of them stabbed at each other’s plates.

“Shit, that’s good,” Spot said, his mouth still full of food. Elmer was pretty obviously thinking the same thing about the salad, if the look on his face was any indication.

“Do you maybe wanna do a little swapsies here?” Elmer offered.

“I’m down for it if you are,” Spot answered, pushing his plate towards Elmer.

“Okay, but I’m keeping my pickle spear,” Elmer said as he lifted the salad towards him. Spot had no qualms with that.

Alright. Spot definitely was seeing something here. Elmer was a really good guy, and Spot maybe kinda sorta really liked him. And it wasn’t just because he played the dead mom card, either.He sure wasn’t a bad boy, but Elmer had a really good heart, and maybe was a little bit - in an odd way - attractive. Okay, not when he had his mouth full of lettuce like that, but still. Spot was into him.

“Yup!” Elmer said when he finished chewing. “I love pickles!”

Spot rolled his eyes. Fondly, of course.

“So, talk to me,” Elmer wiped his hands on his napkin. “Who did you have in mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“To set me up with. Any names come to mind?”

Fuck.

“Oh, yeah,” Spot laughs, hoping it sounds casual. “That. Well, how about my friend Micah?”

“Ooh, Micah. What’s he like?”

“He’s an actor! Kinda crazy, little bit addicted to cigarettes, but he’s really sweet, really.”

“Oh,” Elmer says, “well, with a recommendation like that…”

Spot hadn’t meant to badmouth his friends, but maybe it would work. “Or how about Travis? He’s super cute, but super clingy. Boy finds a man and latches on for dear life. He’s like a happy little barnacle. But if you’re into that kinda thing, then-”

“Uh, nope.”

“Okay, oh! How about my friend Alex? He just got out of a relationship, but I think he’s ready to try again.”

“What’s his last name?” Elmer’s face turned pale.

“What is his last name?” Spot tried to remember. “Alex, Alex, uh, Weaver!”

“Oh thank god!”

“What?” Spot asked. “Do you know him somehow?”

“No, I just thought you were going to say someone else,” Elmer sounded so relieved.

“What did you think I was going to say?”

“Alex Zimmerman.”

This was interesting. Elmer’s face was worried, like he’d just told some awful secret. “Who’s Alex Zimmerman?”

“No one special,” Elmer pushed a tomato around on his plate. “Just my ex-fiance.”

“Oh,” Spot wrinkled his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you had been engaged. Wait, was this the ex who was mute?”

“No,” Elmer laughed. “Although there were days when I wished it.”

“How close were the two of you to getting married?” Spot asked, intrigued.

“Pretty close.”

“Had you already sent out invitations?”

“Oh yeah,” Elmer nodded. “Gifts had been bought, band had been hired. People had just started taking their seats, actually.”

“Oh my god. He left you on your wedding day?”

“No wait,” he smiled sadly. “It gets worse. He left me standing there, under the chuppah.”

Anger boiled in Spot’s stomach. “Why would he do something like that?”

“Beats me,” Elmer shrugged. “I mean, when I caught him as he was sprinting through the parking lot, he did have one thing to say.”

“Which was?” Spot prompted.

Elmer’s voice got higher, mocking his ex. “I’m sorry, Elmer, but I just can’t do this.”

“I just can’t do this?” Spot said incredulously. “What is this boy’s address? I’m in the mood to cut a bitch.”

He would have gotten up, too, if Elmer hadn’t grabbed his arm.

“Spot, chill!” he said, his hands raised. “Look, I’m sure he had a reason.”

“I don’t care what his reason was, you still don’t do that to someone!” Spot found himself yelling, and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Okay, how long ago did this happen?”

“Fourteen months, two weeks, and three days,” Elmer replied dutifully, as if he looked himself in the mirror every morning and added a day aloud.

“Have you spoken to him at all?”

“No,” Elmer shook his head. “He doesn’t think there should be any communication between us two. Or at least that’s what his mom told me when I showed up to his family Thanksgiving. That was a riot!” There was some obvious sarcasm in Elmer’s voice.

“I’m hating him more and more by the second,” Spot shook his head.

“Don’t,” Elmer protested. “Look, there was a lot of pressure on both of us and-”

“Why are you defending him? Are you still in love with him?”

“No!” Elmer leaned forward. “Absolutely not. But I didn’t get the closure then, and I thought that if I was nice about it, she’d come back. And now it’s a habit. I guess that’s why I haven’t dated in so long.”

“Are you telling me that you haven’t kissed a boy since Alex?” Spot said, almost sad for Elmer.

“Yeah, that’s true.” Elmer’s honesty, while not surprising, was rough to hear.

“Oh my god,” Spot shook his head. “Okay, you’ve gotta get past him. Ah!” he clapped his hands, and Elmer set down his drink. “Here’s what we’re going to do, alright? Pretend that Alex is right here, in this restaurant, right now.”

“Why?” Elmer said, his face scared at the very idea.

“Because, we have got to get you over him! I do this in therapy all the time,” Spot assured him, standing up. “My dad and I have had quite a few productive conversations this way.”

Elmer, thankfully, didn’t seem too phased at the mention of therapy or daddy issues. Good to note.

“Now. Imagine him,” Spot said, standing behind Elmer. He put a hand on his his shoulder. “Do you see him?”

Elmer coughed. “Not really.”

“Come on, work with me,” Spot prodded. “Maybe he looks the same way he did the last time you saw him, at the wedding.”

“Oh, yeah, there he is,” Elmer said, and Spot couldn’t tell if his voice was scared or excited.

“Okay, good! Tell him everything you’ve been waiting to say for fourteen months, two weeks, and three days. Don’t hold back.”

Elmer took a deep breath. “Hi, Alex. Um,” he glanced at Spot, and then at the open place on the floor where ‘Alex’ stood. “I never knew what love was like until I met you. The moment I saw your face, and heard your name, I could imagine the rest of our lives together.”

Elmer was… really getting into this. And he was being sappy, like he was still in love with Alex. Fuck.

“I thought I was going to love you forever,” Elmer said, shaking his head. “In my entire life, I don’t think I have ever - or will ever-”

Here came the confession of love. Elmer was going to say that he’d die with Alex at his side or alone, and never anyone else.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so fucking wrong.”

“Oh my god,” Spot breathed, and Elmer kept talking.

“You are a douche, you are a liar, you’re the devil, and I hated that suit you loved to wear,” Elmer said, getting louder and louder and more confident as he went. “Everything you did pisses me off, especially how you always need to be right, and you’re bossy and judgy, and you are a real bore to talk to. Jesus, I can’t believe I was in love with you!”

Elmer stopped to take a breath, and looked to Spot to see if he was doing this alright.

“Good job!” Spot whispered. “Keep going, I’m loving this!”

Elmer nodded. “You drove me so insane when we were dating! We wouldn’t have sex for months on end, do you know how awful-” his whole body shook “-that felt? And you would never shut up and you would get a little racist sometimes, and I could never tell if you meant it or not but even if you didn’t that still isn’t okay to say! You didn’t care about me, you just liked how much money I made and you disliked everything else about me, which you always let me know. Like my thinning hair, and my wardrobe, and the way I ate. Newsflash! I never wanted to be vegan!” he was shouting by now, but his voice never wavered.

Spot was uncomfortably hot.

“You never let me get my way, or even compromise. You know what?” Elmer said, and paused dramatically. “I would actually be sad if you died. But it wouldn’t be the worst thing to ever happen to me! So get the fuck out of my brain, out of my life, when you die you can go to hell, and you can know that I’m over you, and I’m over ever being in love with you!”

Elmer stood, frozen for a second. Alex must have disappeared from his head. “Sorry,” he said quietly to the table closest to him, and began to walk back to the table.

That was, before Spot ran at him and tackled him in a bear hug. He squeezed tightly, feeling the way Elmer’s heart was beating hard.

When they let go, Spot had to keep himself from grabbing Elmer’s hands. “How did that feel?”

“Good!” Elmer all but screamed. “I feel really good! Like I could win a fight - like I just did win a fight!

 

“That’s awesome! And now you’re over him?” Spot asked, and the two of them sat back down.

“I am!”

The two of them finally breathed. Spot could still feel the hug tingling on his arms. For a second, he wondered if Elmer was about to say something.

“How are we doing over here?” The waiter’s nasally voice asked.

“Great!” answered Spot and Elmer in synchronization.

“Really good,” Spot muttered.

“Alrighty,” the waiter smiled. “Are you done with the food?”

“I think so, yeah,” Elmer nodded at him.

“And can I get you anything else? Dessert, drinks, anything?”

“No, thank you,” Spot smiled, wishing he would leave.

“Okay then, I’ll just give you the check,” he grinned.

Fuck. The check was not what Spot had had in mind. It was hard enough on a normal date to figure out who was going to pay it, since normally both Spot and his date had been raised to believe that the guy paid.

Elmer got to it first.

“I’ve got it,” he pulled out a pen and began to write, flashing a kind of flirty smile at Spot.

“Why don’t we split it?” Spot asked. He had, after all, put Elmer through a rollercoaster tonight.

“Because I’m pretty sure that this is the one thing I have over all of your exes.”

Damn. Good point. Spot let him write it and put his card in the checkbook.

“Thank you, Elmer.”

Elmer closed the small black book and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, Spot. I might just be setting myself up for rejection here, but I’m feeling pretty good right now so fuck it. I don’t want to go out with any of your friends. I want to go out with you. I think that even tonight, you’ve been really good for me.”

Spot looked away.

“And I know,” Elmer continued, slightly oblivious, “that I’m not like the guys you’ve dated in the past. But I think that your brand of, I don’t know, creative and fun could be really good for me and my brand of ‘stick-in-the-mud’ might be good for you. And those guys before haven’t worked out so well, so-”

Spot couldn’t think. Elmer trailed off, watching Spot’s face. He must have taken the lack of response as a ‘no’.

“Okay,” Elmer nodded, pursing his lips. He stood up and grabbed his jacket. “You have my number. If you wanna give me a call, that would be cool. And if not, thank you for an incredible night.”

Elmer was out of the restaurant before Spot could comprehend what he had said.

Chapter 6: Something That Will Last

Summary:

Elmer's POV

Notes:

yaaay it's done!
Fanfiction is going to be kinda slow going, since I'll be on vacation for spring break next week and then I will be writing an original novel! Maybe some things will still be posted, but I doubt it. Thanks so much for reading this story!

Now a few blocks from the restaurant, Elmer walked underneath the dim streetlights, the warm air dampening his skin with sweat. Funny. It was so much hotter out here than it was in the restaurant, and yet he felt colder somehow. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that to Spot. Maybe he should have let it be. No, he wouldn’t really be happy being Spot’s friend, and only that. But it might have been better than never seeing him again. He took a step and took his jacket off his shoulders, swinging it in time with his walking.

“Wait!” he heard behind him. Something in him wanted to keep walking, but he turned around. Spot.

“Remember me?” Spot shrugged, and smiled. Dammit, he was cute. Elmer had hoped that it had been a trick of the light in the bar. “I’m the guy who just let you leave without even saying goodbye?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar,” Elmer said, a tiny smile forcing its way into his voice.

“Well, here I am.”

Elmer suppressed his happiness at seeing Spot again, letting his anger get the best of him. “Are you lost? Or did I leave something in the restaurant? I mean, other than my dignity.”

“No,” Spot kicked his leg out in front of him awkwardly. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to walk me home. No pressure, or anything. Just-”

“I’d love to walk you home. You don’t, uh, live in Hoboken, right?” Elmer said, and Spot’s smile made him grin.

“No. It’s just around the corner.”

“Well, in that case,” Elmer said, and handed Spot his jacket. Spot raised his eyebrows. Elmer began to jokingly stretch out his legs. “What? It’s around the corner, I don’t want to risk an injury or something!”

And yeah, Spot’s laugh was definitely something that Elmer would have missed if Spot hadn’t followed him out.

Looking at Spot’s face in the light, Elmer couldn’t help but think. He knew this was new for Spot: the prospect of a healthy relationship. So many times in this night alone, Spot had almost run away from Elmer. That was the last thing Elmer wanted now.
It was true that Spot wasn’t the kind of person that he had planned on. But he was nice, and sweet, and a little bit risky. Elmer took a risk, trusted his gut, and took Spot’s hand. He smiled up at him. Why not? You could never know how far something might go. There was a chance that Elmer would be spending the night at Spot’s house. And then maybe he would see Spot in the morning, and maybe it would go even further. Maybe it would fail, but they couldn’t know that without at least trying.

“Well,” Spot said, stopping on the sidewalk. “This is my place.”

“So it is. It’s really beautiful, uh, structural engineering,” Elmer said, nodding.

He could hear Albert’s voice yelling at him. “Quit stalling and get to the sex already!”

“Thank you,” Spot laughed, bumping into him. “I designed it myself, you know.”

Elmer rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Uh, goodnight, Spot.”

“Goodnight, Elmer.”

He started to walk away, which went against every instinct in his body. Then, he stopped. Fuck it, right? Maybe something would happen if he took a chance on Spot. It wasn’t the perfect moment right now, but it was as good as he was going to get. And, if this worked out, if this was something that might last, maybe he would have lots of perfect moments.

Elmer walked back, determined, to Spot. Spot met him halfway, leaning up and into Elmer as they kissed. Moving his hands down Spot’s back to help him up, Elmer wondered what kind of first impression of Spot would have led him to believe that kissing him wouldn’t trigger the happiest emotion he’d felt in months, if ever.

Notes:

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought, and come say hi on tumblr @allbesolucky or @javidblue