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"Why is it that I always find you in the crowd when these things happen?" A voice at his shoulder startles him, making him jump. "Whoa, someone's jumpy. A little nervous there? Is it because you have something to hide? Tell me now, sir, how are you involved in this?"
York surveys the detective standing next to him carefully. It's the same man from his heist the week before. And the heist before that one. He feels a slight twinge of annoyance. This man has been making his life incredibly difficult recently. Turning on his charming smile, he pulls out his regular excuse. "I've told you before, Detective. I'm a crime reporter. If I want to get any stories I have be at the scene to get a first hand account."
"So you say. But I'm not 100 percent sold on your story. If it weren't for my partner insisting you're harmless and the fact that you do actually appear to be a reporter, I would have put you in cuffs already." To the average ear, the detective's threat would sound like the no-nonsense, serious type that his demeanor suggests. However, York's been training in seduction for the past few months in preparation for a job that requires charming his way into a rich heiress' bedroom in order to retrieve a very valuable family heirloom. As such, he picks up the almost indiscernible touch of desire that suggests the man in question may in fact want him in cuffs for another reason, one far less professional. To be entirely honest, he's often considered the younger man in the same way throughout the ever increasingly dangerous game of cat and mouse he's been playing over the last couple of months. His seduction tactics would be put to a far more satisfying use than what he's currently employing them for, that's for certain. He is, after all, far more attracted to the man's shaggy blonde hair, abundant freckles, and deep brown eyes that clearly suggest a hint of Asian descent, than the snobby brunette woman that he's currently attempting to woo. In fact he's been practicing his newly acquired techniques on the oblivious man next to him since he started developing them.
So far it’s been working out for him, too. Just last month Detective David Washington caught him red handed, exiting the museum he’d just finished robbing with a priceless Greek urn and a handful of semi-precious gemstones that had been fished out of the pipes of the Roman Baths, both on loan from some British museum and worth a hefty sum of 2.5 million dollars, tucked into his padded camera bag. He attempted to smooth talk his way out of it, insisting that he was testing the door in hopes that he could get in to see the crime scene. When the man still looked at him with suspicion he turned to subtly flirting, complimenting his steel grey and yellow coloured jacket and informing him, truthfully, that the grey really complimented his skin tone and made his freckles stand out. Those few compliments had the man so flustered that he’d been released without another question.
He’d used the tactic again after his job last week, a low profile liberation of two extremely rare ornate civil war era dueling pistols that he knew he’d be able to find a buyer for, along with the item he was hired to steal, a engagement and wedding band set circa 1920 pawned off by a stilted ex-fiance and still being held for another month. When Detective Washington had sought him out for questioning after a witness had claimed to have seen him snooping around immediately after the robbery, York had purposely tripped, catching himself with a hand on the other man’s well muscled arm. From there, it was only a matter of dragging his hand downward in a calculated caress, coupled with a casual comment about how nice his arms were, and suddenly Washington was a stuttering crimson mess.
He had been hoping that the next time they ran into each other he’d be able to coax the other into agreeing to date. Unfortunately, this heist wasn’t actually his, leaving him unprepared and incredibly frustrated. He had planned to hit this auction house in two days because it would be storing several pieces of valuable art, including a Pollock and a Van Gogh that, when sold together to one of his regular black-market art buyers, could have had him living comfortably for at least a decade. Instead someone struck before him; an amateur for certain, as nothing worth more than $100, 000 is ever brought in until the day of the auction. Unfortunately, this means tightened security, and as good as York is, he’d rather not risk being arrested. Especially not before he managed to coax the adorable Detective into bed with him. After all, that would probably ruin his chances of securing a date.
A hand touches his arm tentatively, pulling him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even realized how lost in his own head he actually was until Washington’s hand grounded him in the present. “Are you OK, sir? You’ve gone a little… vacant.”
“Please Detective, we’ve gone over this. No need to call me sir. York will do fine.” He flashes his most charming grin down at the younger man, noting the layer of concern on his face. York also takes in the clothing his companion is dressed in. “And I was just lost in my head, daydreaming. Being around such a beautiful person often does that to me. It looks like they have this all sorted out and I’ve got my story. Are you off duty? Care to catch a bite? My treat.”
“I don’t know, si - York.” York decides that blushing Detective Washington is his new favourite thing. The hand still resting on his arm tightens nervously as the man sends him a look filled with uncertainty. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You are still a person of interest in a couple of open cases involving grand larceny.”
“Aww, come on Detective Washington. Even your partner ruled me out as harmless. I was told by the station, last time I was called in for questioning, that I was no longer considered a PoI. Your partner even told me she wasn’t going to consider me as a witness because all of my stories consist of details that anyone poking around the scene or interviewing other bystanders could determine.” He shifted carefully, positioning himself in a way that kept the hand on his arm from slipping while still facing the object of his desire, reaching up slowly to cup the blonde man’s cheek. York caresses the smatter of freckles spread out across that cheek with his thumb as he tips the shorter man’s head up slightly to meet his gaze. “Come on, Washington. What’s one date going to hurt? I promise that if you don’t enjoy yourself I will stop my advances.”
“OK. OK, one date.” The tension, stemming from anticipation, drains from both of them, and Washington leans into his palm slightly for a moment before drawing away. York shivers when the hand slides down his arm, slotting into his as at the same time he receives a shy look. “No more calling me Detective though. My friends call me Wash. Where are you taking me, then?”
“How do you feel about Thai food, Wash?” He gently squeezes the hand he’s clutching as they wind their way through the crowd. “I know a place down the road with excellent Pad Thai and this coconut chicken soup that is to die for.”
The responding shrug is so lackluster that York finds himself frowning. It doesn’t seem the other man is particularly excited to go on this date. Maybe he’s been reading the whole situation wrong and the only reason Wash has agreed to this is because he promised to leave him alone after. He hesitates, something the man following him notices immediately and scrambles to explain further. “I’ve never really had much Thai food. Connie - my partner I mean - doesn’t like it and the last time Maine brought some into the office it was so spicy I felt like my face would melt off. I’m not a big curry fan. I associate it with unpleasant memories.”
“Ah, OK.” He squeezes the hand in his again in an attempt to be reassuring. “Well not all Thai food has curry in it, I promise. Pad Thai is a noodle dish and this place lets you make it as spicy as you want. They also have a cashew chicken dish that is sweet and spicy. But if you don’t want to do Thai then we can go somewhere else.”
“No, I do want to try it. You never know if you hate something unless you’ve tried it, right?” The adorable grin that accompanies that statement has York melting. “But next time I get to choose where we go.”
“Next time?” York’s eyebrows shoot up. He did not expect the other man to agree to a second date before the first has even really started. That beautiful blush stains the blonde’s cheeks again. “Careful Wash, I might start to think you actually like me.”
“I’ve always liked you.” The response is muttered so quietly that York suspects he wasn’t supposed to catch it. For some unknown reason those words make his chest tighten with happiness and something akin to sorrow. The last emotion is so out of place that he stops abruptly, blinking in shock. Wash continues for several paces, unaware that York’s stopped, before the tug on their linked hands pulls him back. The brunette meets his gaze, seeing his confusion reflected in those deep brown pools. A couple of steps brings the shorter man into his space, and suddenly he’s looking down into those impossibly warm and inviting eyes. The words that follow are uttered softly. “Hey. Hey are you feeling OK York? If you aren’t feeling good we can always go back to your place and watch a movie or something instead. Or reschedule.”
“No. No I’m good. Just had a moment of Deja Vu.” York shakes his head to clear it before smirking down at the other man. The disappointment in the last suggestion the blonde had offered him was reassuring and the former suggestion stirred up some excitement. “But we could definitely go back to my place for a movie after dinner if you still feel up for it.”
“If the food lives up to your description then maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.” The teasing note in Wash’s voice is mixed with something darker, making York shudder with desire. He offers the other man a surprised smile.
“You aren’t nearly as reserved as you portray yourself, are you?” The squeeze on his hand and the responding chuckle set York’s heart racing. He feels so incredibly at home with this man, like they’ve shared a conversation like this dozens of times. The sensation is perfect and he’s already trying to decide how to keep it going forever as he resumes walking, leading Wash to the hidden gem he classifies as his favourite restaurant.
The food at this restaurant is only one of the reasons it is his favourite. The atmosphere is friendly and upbeat without being overly crowded or noisy, the service is great, and the place is frequented by a man that resembles Adonis himself. However, today just happens to be Thursday, and York has never seen the tall, blonde, god-like man in on Thursdays. Unfortunately, there is a first time for everything, and he slams into a well toned body as he enters the building, too busy trying to gauge Wash’s reaction. Strong arms encircle him, pulling him tight against a hard chest to keep him from falling.
“Whoa there, gorgeous.” York can feel resonation of that deep voice rumbling in the man’s chest. “No need to jump me so soon. At least let me take you out to dinner first? I promise I’m the best company you have ever had.”
Another twinge of Deja Vu almost sends him reeling. At the same time he notices his date stiffen, face closing off as he releases York’s hand. He can sense a mixture of anger, frustration, annoyance, and a touch of what could be resignation rolling off the younger man. The last emotion is quite strange, almost as though Wash is used to losing to guys like this. Something that doesn’t make any sense to York, because the man is completely adorable. He removes himself from the taller man’s embrace gently, backing up a few steps.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you like that. I was too enamoured with my date to pay attention to where I was going.” He apologizes sincerely, stressing the word date. The larger man turns his gaze to Wash, blue eyes hardening to match the iciness their colour suggests. The shorter man meets the stare with a defiant tilt of his head, relaxing slightly at York’s words. He steps closer to the freckled man, providing enough space for the third man to pass. “Excuse us please. We’d like to get by.”
An incredibly blonde, almost invisible, eyebrow raises as the man removes himself from the doorway, slipping past them. York wraps his hand around Wash’s wrist, tugging him gently into the warm atmosphere that he loves so much. They get seated at his favourite table immediately; he’s here enough that the staff all know him by name. He’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that he’s positive the food will blow any judgement his companion is heaping on him away. As they settled down into the booth, Wash peers around curiously. “The decor of this place is pretty amazing. I can see why you like it in here; it feels so welcoming.”
“Don’t forget about the amazing food and excellent staff. And now that you’re here with me, I can add ‘incredible company’ to the list of perks.” He grins when the comment earns him another glimpse of that delectable flush. “Do you want a menu? Or do you trust me enough to order for you?”
Wash hesitates briefly before swallowing hard. “I… I trust you. So far you haven’t let me down. Just remember, no curry. And not too spicy OK?”
“Got it.” He smiles, reaching across the table to touch the freckled hand resting there. “I guarantee you’ll enjoy what I order for us. Do you like shrimp and chicken?”
“Yep. And I’m not allergic to anything either so you don’t have to worry about that.” Wash flips his hand over so that their palms are pressing together, tracing the lines and dips of his wrist as he replies. York’s smile widens when the other man meets his gaze shyly and he waves the waiter over without breaking eye contact.
“Hello Mr. York, sir. What can I get for you tonight?” York doesn’t even have to look at the name embroidered on the man’s black apron to recognize him. The only server in this place that still calls him sir, despite his constant attempts to convince him not to, is Matthews. He directs his attention to the kid, offering up his usual charming smile.
“Good evening Matthews. Can we get some salad rolls, a dish of Pad Thai with chicken and prawns, and the Gai Med Ma Moung, all to share and with only a mild amount of spice please.” York watches as the kid jots down their meal selection before glancing up at them again expectantly. When York stares back at him in confusion, the server blinks at them before prompting him gently.
“And what would the two of you like to drink, sir?” Matthews looks slightly uncomfortable with having to ask; usually York gives his order in full detail, down to the amount of chilies he wants in his food. He’s never forgotten to ask for a drink before.
“We’ll grab two Cha Yen iced teas please.” York requests apologetically. “Thanks kid.”
The server jots that down as heads towards the kitchen to deliver their order. York turns his attention back to Wash, now acutely aware that the man’s eyes never left his face during the entire time he was interacting with Matthews. He can feel his smile growing, stretching so wide it almost hurts his cheeks. To cover it, he needlessly explains the drink order. “They have the best Thai style iced tea here. I hope you like sweet things, because it’s a bit on the sweet side. But it tastes amazing. Pretty much everything here is good, actually.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to realize that.” The chuckle that accompanies Wash’s reply makes a shiver of desire run up York’s spine. Before tonight he’s never known a chuckle to be sensual or arousing. He has heard of other people finding them so, but it’s definitely a new experience for him. For a moment he wonders what the other man he’s been pursuing recently sounds like when he chuckles. The sound would be incredibly deep with his voice, and York imagines he’d find that equally arousing. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s lost in his head again, and daydreaming about another man to boot. mentally shaking it off, he focuses on Wash’s lips as they move. “So, why a crime reporter, York? What made you want to get into that?”
“Oh. Well, you know. The action, I suppose. I thought it would be a lot more exciting than it actually is.” York shrugs; it isn’t exactly a lie so he doesn’t feel guilty. It just isn’t the full story about why he got into reporting crime. It’s a lot easier to stay under the radar when he’s actually allowed to be around scenes of robberies and murders. Not that he enjoys the particularly wet cases. He’s a thief, not a killer. He only does that when he’s in a really tight position, and even then he always tries to aim for not vital areas. Nobody deserves to die just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. He doesn’t have many codes, but that’s one of them. Those thoughts are depressing though, so he lightens the mood by tossing out a compliment in hopes that Wash will blush again. “It has its perks though. Like meeting incredibly hot police detectives.”
As predicted, red spreads across those freckled cheeks, highlighting every last dot. York is quite tempted to lean over the table and kiss the trail of freckles that leads across Wash’s nose. They younger man is saved from replying and from York’s barely restrained desire for a public display of affection by Matthews, who arrives with their drinks. Instead the blond man smiles at the young server, offering a word of thanks, before taking a tentative sip. York watches as his eyes widen in delight before taking a bigger drink. “Wow, this is delicious. If the food is the same quality then we’ll definitely be having a second date.”
It’s York’s turn to chuckle now, and he does so before taking a drink out of his own glass. “Trust me, the food is so good it should earn me at least half a dozen more dates.”
“Really? You’re that confident York?” Wash teases lightly. “You are so certain that I’m going to like this food enough to spend one day a week with you for the next six weeks?”
“Well… I was hoping for several days a week actually. I like spending time with you in a non professional setting. Speaking of professional; what made you decide to become a cop?” York turns Wash’s question back on him, hoping that the answer would shed some more light on the man’s life.
“Well… I guess I was tired of not being able to help people. I was tired of all the evilness in the world. And of being one of those people that just stands by and watches it happen. So I became a police officer. It doesn’t hurt that someone that was once very close to me works in the same field, albeit in a fair different capacity. It took me a while to find them but somehow we came together recently.” The shorter man shrugs his shoulder, a soft smile transforming his face and highlighting just how young the detective really is. York finds himself impressed with this man yet again. His intentions are worded to seem so pure, and yet he senses something darker lingering under them. Something else has obviously driven Wash into his career choice. If it wasn’t for the fact that this was their first date, York would have pressed. He’s alway been curious about the driving force, the motive, behind people’s actions. Especially those who are close to him. And he feels like he’s know the man across the table from him for pretty much ever.
“Very noble, Wash. But I couldn’t see you just standing by and watching bad things happen. It doesn’t seem like your style, really. You seem to care a lot.” York receives a scoff at that but is once again saved from figuring out exactly what to say by the arrival of their meal. Matthews sets down three platters of food in the center of the table, placing an empty plate in front of each of them.
“Is there anything else I can get you two?” The waiter asks politely. When he receives a negative reply, he wishes them a good meal before leaving them. “Enjoy your meal then, don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you, Matthews.” York calls after him, already collecting a salad roll off of the plate. Opposite of him, Wash’s eyes dart to each dish with interest and slight worry. York takes pity on him, offering him an explanation of each dish. “I’d start off with a salad roll. They have julienned carrots and peppers, along with rice vermicelli, lettuce and a peanut sauce. They’re a good starter. The next thing over is Pad Thai. It has beansprouts, carrots, onions, chicken, prawns, cilantro, and crushed peanuts. Next to it is Gai Med Ma Moung, which is cashew chicken with vegetables. I ordered everything mild so nothing should be too spicy. But the iced tea will definitely counteract anything.”
“OK, thanks for the run down.” Wash snags a salad roll, carefully biting into it. York focuses on his own to stop himself from staring as he waits for the blonde man’s reaction. When he looks up again, Wash is just finishing off the roll. He offers York a satisfied hum before reaching over to scrap some of the Pad onto his plate. He does the same with the chicken dish before scooping up his chopsticks, handling them like a pro. York can’t help watching this time, as the man tries a bite of the noodle dish. Wash’s eyes scrunch closed as he explores the flavours, offering York a huge grin after he swallows. The final dish follows quickly, and the resulting moan fries York’s brain. Brown eyes meet his again as their owner voices his stamp of approval. “Damn you’re right. This is amazing. Definitely worth half a dozen more dates, especially if you have anymore secret places like this.”
York instantly relaxes, piling food onto his plate as he replies. “Oh I have a few other spots I could probably be convinced to show you. But next time you get to plan the date, OK?”
“Deal. Now be quiet so I can focus on eating.” Wash shoots him another smile before shoveling some noodles into his mouth for emphasis. York decides it’s endearing and follows suit. They don’t talk again until both have eaten their fill.
When Wash sets his chopsticks down at last, draining the last bit of liquid from his glass, York waves Matthews over. The man brings a couple take-out containers with him, packing up the leftover food as York digs out his wallet, paying the bill and leaving a decent tip. Wash reaches over to swipe one of the chocolate filled mints that came with the bill as Matthews retreats with a word of thanks. Scooping up the neatly packed bag of leftovers with one hand, he envelops one of Wash’s hands with his other again, walking them back towards the location he knows he left his car in. It occurs to him that maybe Wash drove here, and that perhaps now would be a good time to split up, if they are going to. He finds that an unpleasant idea, but it’s definitely Wash’s call. He’s about to ask the younger man what he wants to do, but the other man beats him to the question.
“I walked here. Just in case you were wondering. Are we going back to your place to watch movies?” There is a high degree of hope in his voice when he asks. The next part sounds mildly dejected though, and York finds himself wishing he could do that. It’d definitely help with the seduction if he could change the tones of his voice that quickly. “If not, do you think maybe you could give me a ride home. I don’t live that far, but this isn’t exactly a super safe area to be wandering about after nightfall.”
York tightens his hold slightly. “If you’re sure you’ll be comfortable coming home with me, then I’d love to have a movie night. But I don’t want to pressure you into anything, Wash. It’s only our first date, after all. There is plenty of time for a movie night later if you’d rather go home.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to convince me to say no.” The words are said teasingly but York can hear a slight pout in them as well. “If that’s the case, you’re going to have to try a lot harder, because I’m really enjoying spending time with you.”
“Great! I’m parked over here.” He tugs the shorter man over to his gold jeep, unlocking the doors. Wash swings himself into the passenger side with a soft laugh, grabbing York’s attention. “What’s so amusing over there?”
“Oh, nothing. Just, the subtlety of your vehicle suits you.” The other man offers him a cheeky grin. “It has the same level of flash as you do. Charming really.”
York responds with his own laugh. Who knew the detective was one of those people with a hidden mean streak? He’s definitely going to enjoy unlocking all the layers of this man’s personality, that’s for sure. Turning the key in the ignition, he nudges the jeep into gear and heads for home. Wash chatters about his life throughout the drive, betraying his nervousness. In the twenty minutes it takes to get to York’s apartment, he’s learned that Wash has two cats, lives in the nicer area of downtown, has been a detective for almost two years, and transferred to the city a year ago. The last part peeks York’s interest, so he interrupts the constant stream of conversation to ask. “So, what brought you to the City of Angels then?”
“Higher paying job offer, more interesting cases, hot guys like you, and warmth all year round? Yes please. It’s better than Chicago, that’s for sure. They don’t call it the Windy City for nothing.” There is a carefully hidden pain in the man’s voice as he explains. York understands the discomfort that comes from talking about your past. After all, he didn’t start out in Los Angeles either. Almost as if reading his mind, Wash turns the question around on him. “How about you, York? Have you always lived here? Or did you come here from somewhere else? I mean, your accent doesn’t really come off as Californian to me.”
“Ah, yeah…” York rubs the back of his neck in discomfort for a moment, before flicking on his indicator, turning into a residential neighbourhood. “I’m from Arkansas originally. Believe it or not, I came here on the promise of becoming a model. Probably would have managed it too, if not for the accident that scarred my face. No matter how much chicks dig scars, the modelling industry doesn’t. They only want you if they can make you look perfect. So I enrolled in a journalism program and here I am. I’m not too disappointed in how it all worked out, to be honest. I enjoy the work that I do.”
He presses the button on his key fob to open the parking garage, parking the jeep neatly in his designated spot. Wash slips out when the vehicle comes to a complete stop, examining the parking garage curiously. York follows the blonde man, collecting the bag of food as he goes. The jeep beeps behind him, alerting them that it has been successfully locked. Pushing the door open, he takes the lead, apologizing in advance. “Sorry Wash, it’s a bit of a hike. We have to go to the 5th floor and there is no elevator in this building. My apartment isn’t the nicest but it is relatively quiet and it’s rent controlled so I can’t complain.”
“Ah, a couple flights of stairs never hurt anyone. And I’m sure your apartment is fine. All I really care about is if your couch is comfy and your TV is big.” The shrug that follows those words is nonchalant, proving the younger man truly doesn’t care at all. York finds this refreshing. The last person he brought over was this girl he dated for about six weeks. She scoffed at the building, whined about the lack of an elevator, and complained that his apartment was too cold and enclosed. Wash insists on continuing the conversation despite the climb up the stairs. “What type of movie do you want to watch, anyway? Got any ideas?”
“Nothing too sappy. I’m not really into that romantic chick flick stuff.” York huffs, feeling a little jealous of the other man’s stamina. He does this trip at least once a day and yet he’s having a hard time keeping up with Wash and conversing at the same time. “How about comedy? Something funny. We can rent something off pay-per-view or find something on Netflix. Or you can choose something from my DVDs. I don’t have many but there might be something there you like.”
“Netflix is fine with me. Why don’t we watch something old school? Like American Pie or something?” Wash suggests with a smile. “I haven’t watched anything like that in a long time.”
“Sure, sounds good to me. I haven’t American Pie in at least ten years.” They reach the 5th floor and he holds open the door, ushering the other man out of the staircase and herding him down the hall to apartment 512. Unlocking the door, he flips on the lights, displaying the beige walls that lead to a kitchen and a hallway on either side the front door. Kicking off his shoes he steps aside, allowing Wash is first look at the slightly rundown area he calls home. The other man removes his shoes at the door before following York into the living room. York collects the TV remote and his Xbox controller, turning on the respective devices and booting up Netflix, before gesturing at the couch. “Make yourself at home, man. Did you want anything to drink? I have beer in the fridge. Also orange juice and water.”
“Yeah, I’ll take a beer.” Wash settles down on the couch, as he heads into the kitchen, stashing the leftovers in the fridge and snagging two beers. Popping the tops off of them, he returns to the living room, collapsing on the couch next to the freckled man. Selecting the first American Pie movie, he sinks backward, one arm slung across the top of the couch. Wash laughs before scooting over to press into his side. “You aren’t fooling anyone with the arm across the back of the couch trick. If you want to cuddle you just have to ask.”
He can feel the heat rise to his cheeks in mild embarrassment but he shakes it off, wrapping his arm around the waist of the other man, hauling him even tighter against him and receiving a happy sigh that mirrors his own. “Well in that case… Let’s cuddle properly, OK?”
He starts when Wash lets out a tiny giggle, freckled hand slapping over his mouth in an attempt to mute it. Those wide brown eyes stare up at him innocently, daring him to laugh. Instead he offers the younger man a smile. “Aren’t you just adorable. That giggle is so freaking cute. Between your freckles and your blushing and your giggles, I think you might just be the cutest person I have ever met, David Washington.”
The crimson colour returns to the other man’s face for the eighth or ninth time that night and York just catches a glimpse of it before it’s buried into his shoulder as Wash hides his face in embarrassment. His response, although muffled, is something completely impolite and he’d be offended if not for the fact he knows he deserves it. Instead of egging him on any further, he returns his focus to the movie, hand idly drawing designs on his cuddle partner’s side and stomach. The rest of the movie consists of more cuddling, and by the time it’s over, Wash is practically falling asleep and York is feeling pretty tired as well.
“I think I should probably take you home now, Wash. We’re both exhausted, and I’d offer to let you stay but it’s only the first date and my couch isn’t that comfortable to sleep on.” The other man attempts to untangle himself from the blanket they covered up with halfway through the movie but only succeeds on ending up face first on the floor. York helps him up with a small laugh, wrapping an arm around him as he support him to his shoes. “So maybe exhausted is an understatement; you’re practically dead on your feet.”
“‘m sorry York. It’s been a long day.” The shorter man yawns as he pulls his shoes on. “Are you sure it’s not too much trouble to get a ride? I could call a cab if that’s easier on you.”
“No, no of course it isn’t too much trouble.” York squeezes Wash’s shoulder softly. “I’d be happy to take you home.”
The trip down to the parking garage is definitely more interesting than the way up was, with York having to keep Wash from falling down the stairs every few steps. When they finally reach the jeep, he is feeling much more alert. Collecting an address from the younger man, York sets out to find Wash’s apartment building. It only takes 15 minutes to get there, but it feels like a lot longer. While the ride here was full of conversation and excitement, the ride back is almost eerily quiet. When he pulls the jeep up in front of the fancy complex that Wash lives in, he gets out of the Jeep to walk the other man to the door.
Once there, he smiles. “I had a great time tonight Wash. Thank you for agreeing to come out with me. We’ll have to do this again soon, OK?”
The blonde man blinks sleepily up at him before nodding. York’s smile grows and softens; everything this man does is adorable, he swears. Turning away, he heads back towards the Jeep. A hand grabs his wrist, pulling him backwards, the momentum swinging him back towards Wash. Soft lips press against his in a perfectly chaste first kiss. York deepens in hungrily, cupping the back of his blonde head with the hand not being held onto. The shorter man pushes himself up on his toes, free arm wrapping around the brunette’s neck to compensate for the height difference. When they break apart York receives a dazed smile. He presses another soft peck on the other man’s lips before releasing him. Wash allows himself to sink back down so he’s standing solidly on the ground, letting his arm drop from around York’s neck. The other hand squeezes his wrist once before letting go as well. The younger man looks him in the eye, conveying his thanks carefully. “Thank you, York. For taking me out, I mean. I don’t do a lot of dating. Or any at all really. I hope this doesn’t scare you off… But you’re kind of it.”
Those words resonate in him, warming his chest completely, something York won’t fully understand until a little over a month later.