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Strange Invitation

Summary:

Henry Miller x Male! Reader (he takes you to dinner not clickbait) (also not based on the song by Beck)

Notes:

this is a HAIR out of character but i was also receiving mountains of positive feedback so now all of dayshift at ao3 has to see this in the dsaf tag. sowwies uwu

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

You scanned over the piece of paper in your hands. The handwriting was barely readable, with all the swirls and little heart shapes in place of periods and the dots above i’s. 

“You look lonely. Why don’t you come to dinner with me?
- Miller~” 

He’s been eyeing you for a while. Ever since you started going to this bar, he was there, watching you almost hungrily. You’d never taken the time of day to really interact with him. All you’d really do is chuckle nervously when he’d send a drink your way with some message from the bartender. Usually a “hello, darling” or a “looking rather handsome this evening,”

Normal things that an older gentleman would say to a young man such as yourself.

You glanced at him. His neon pink eyes bore holes into your own. He sipped his drink and grinned at you before beckoning you closer. It was almost like you were being hypnotized as you stood from your seat and strode over to this mysterious man. His pink skin was quite the contrast to any man you’d seen before, but what do you know? That weird children’s pizza place had a purple man working there. 

“Well, I thought you’d never leave your stool, sir,” he practically purred, those bright pink eyes nearly digging into your soul. “Have a seat with me, hm?”

You felt compelled to sit right next to him, your knees touching with how close you’d scooted your new seat. He chuckled and offered his hand to you, flashing a rather friendly smile. You took his hand and shook it, feeling the rough calluses on his fingers. 

“The name’s Miller. Henry Miller,” he said, his hand lingering on yours for much longer than anticipated. “And yours?”

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you told him your name. He maintained eye contact as much as you’d allow, with how often you kept looking back down at the bar. He finally let go of your hand, instead opting to rest it on the bar. Your hand felt so much cooler without his on it. 

“So, how’s about that dinner, hm?”

“...I’d like that a lot, Mr. Miller.” you replied, your face heating up at the thought of going to dinner with this perfect stranger. He wasn’t at all bad looking, even with the magenta hue his skin took. He chuckled before standing up, holding his hand back out to you. A voice in the back of your mind worried this was a ploy to get you murdered. You opted to ignore it, instead grabbing his hand and smiling wide as he nearly dragged you out of the bar. He moved rather fast for a man with such heft. You couldn’t help but think it was a little attractive. 

Before long, the two of you were entering a restaurant quite outside of your budget. You hoped he wouldn’t want to split the bill. He led you inside, keeping a rather firm grip on your hand. A hostess took you both to a table. He led you to one side, helping you into your seat before taking his own. As if being knee to knee wasn’t enough earlier, being sat right across him was somehow worse. 

Perhaps it was the fact you couldn’t hide your face the way you were able to when you were simply sitting next to each other. 

Henry folded his hands under his chin, leaning over the table a little. It was difficult not to stare below the neck, especially with the knowledge his shirt was most certainly missing a button, only some loose threads in its place. There was no way it’d merely fallen off, it had most certainly been popped off rather forcefully. How the rest of the shirt hadn’t just exploded off of him, you’ll never know. 

You rather wished it’d just disappear. 

“So, I know your name…” again, he was purring in his words. Your face was red hot just hearing the way he said that. “What else are you willing to share with me?”

You practically word vomit everything about yourself. You didn’t spare any details, giving descriptions that would put museum curators to shame. This man, who you’d only spoken to a mere hour ago, now knew every single thing about you. His glowing eyes sparkled with genuine interest. He was really that into you! It had been… an embarrassingly long time since you saw such a sparkle. You spoke of your time being in this town, having noted all the interesting things. The thing that stood out to you the most was that cute little diner joint downtown. His eyes lit up, brighter than any of the neon signs in Las Vegas. He’d nearly torn your hand clean off your wrist with how quickly he grabbed it. 

The same way you spilled everything about yourself, he rambled on about this diner. His diner. It was this dream project to make people happy… or whatever. He had used the word “joy” a lot, but you were only barely hanging onto his words. The way he got when he was passionate about something, gripping your hand like you were slipping away… It was intriguing. The two of you were nearly touching nose to nose, he had gotten so close. You don’t even remember when you, too, began leaning over the table. 

The dinner was quite a blur in your memory. All your focus went into this man, who still so desperately clung to your hand. His pink skin nearly red with how infrequently he breathed between sentences. You kept reminding him to do so, you wouldn't want him passing out on this date. 

“Ohh, don't worry much about me, dear. My breath was already taken the moment you finally spoke to me.” 

The fact he was just able to make you melt with such a cheesy line should have been an indicator of what the rest of this date would be like. Unfortunately, the alcohol in your system made you oblivious to any warning signs. You could tell, he wasn't at all the type to leave you stranded. He seemed loyal enough for this being your first impression of him. You couldn't help but squeeze his hands when he said those words. 

He motioned for you to eat up, and like every other time he told you to do something you listened. He definitely picked an excellent place to eat, it was fancy food but not “little portions with a big price tag” fancy. You silently thanked whatever god existed that he insisted on paying for your meals. Something about it not being gentlemanly to make your date pay for stuff. He was definitely a gentleman, slightly undone shirt aside. 

You learned he had an awful sweet tooth after seeing him order and eat possibly the most sugary looking cake in the world. Just eyeballing it made your teeth feel rotten and gross. He seemed to enjoy it though, sucking leftover frosting off his fingertips when he was done. You just tried to avoid eye contact as much as possible, despite feeling the need to squirm a little in your seat. You weren't able to tell if he was intentionally being such a tease or if he was like this naturally.

He suddenly, but gently, placed a hand under your chin, lifting your head so that the two of you were making direct eye contact. Your red face was making your attempts to look nonchalant seem futile. Your eyes suddenly darted to his other hand, finally noticing the wedding ring he had on. 

Oh shit. Was he having an affair with someone? And you were the affair partner?! Was this guy one of those weirdos who was married to a woman but went to gay bars to pick up guys behind his wife’s back? You leaned back in your chair, eyes still fixed on that hand. He immediately took notice and let go of your face. 

“Oh- God. Don’t worry, she’s fully out of the picture. I’m not that much of a lowlife. Things happen.”

That really should have told you why his wife was suddenly out, but honestly he could have meant anything. You, albeit selfishly, hoped she either was dead or cheated and left him for the affair partner. You just pushed those thoughts back and released a breath you had no idea you were holding in. He seemed relieved that you calmed down so quickly, but honestly something about him just made you wanna take him home to meet the family. 

He cleared his throat, bringing you back to reality once more. You silently cursed yourself for daydreaming yet again. You looked him in the eye without him practically forcing you to. 

“So… Your place or mine, darling?” he asked, interest and curiosity making his voice melt your brain. You took some time to really think. Did you really want to tell this guy where you lived? On the other hand, did you really wanna see what his house was like? A rather elegant guy like him, he probably had some big fancy house. Did that make you a gold digger if you just went to the guy’s house to sleep off a hangover? Did you really wanna risk a stalking situation if you told this guy your address? Your place was messy anyway, you didn’t wanna look like a slob in front of this fine glass of water. 

“Yours.” you finally replied. He raised his eyebrows a little, clearly a little shocked. He shrugged it off, grinning at you and offering his arm to you. You nearly leaped up at him, grabbing his arm with both hands as he walked you out of the restaurant. The time you two spent walking to his house felt like an eternity. He didn’t even live that far, but it was definitely one hell of a walk. Did this guy walk everywhere? He hasn’t mentioned a car the entire time you two have been out and about. You finally approached a rather nice looking house. 

It wasn't a mansion but it was really nice. You watched Henry fiddle around with some keys before unlocking his door. He moved a hand to your back as he helped you inside, muttering something about his son not leaving a lamp on before he left. 

Cool. He wasn’t just an old, previously married man who was interested in you. He was an old, previously married man with at least one son. Go figure, the one time you go home with a guy from a bar and he’s a parent. 

“Have a seat, I’ll be right back.” he said before disappearing to a different part of the house. You sat on the- admittedly comfortable- couch placed directly in front of the television. You looked around the living room. Pictures of him and who you assumed was his son were all over the walls. You recognized the younger man as that purple weirdo from the pizza place. Was this guy’s ex wife blue? Was his son just coincidentally a different bright color? You shook your head, leaning into the couch and counting the individual bumps in the ceiling. Before too long, Henry returned with a glass of water. 

“Trust me, you’re going to want to drink this,” he said, sitting next to you. You nodded and took a sip, setting the glass on the end table near the couch. Henry wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you rather close. You scooted as close as humanly possible to him, placing a hand on his lap. Finally, a step closer from knees touching and him grabbing your hands or holding your face. You thought you were warm from this whole ordeal, he was practically scorching. 

You finally let your guard down a little and smirked at him. You realized you spent all night being worried he was going to kill you or whatever, you didn’t stop to appreciate the lovely date this man had taken you on. Buying you drinks for weeks on end, sending little messages your way, calling you little nicknames. Hell, the man took you to a fancy restaurant and paid for everything. He brought you home with him! You were allowed to loosen up a little. 

“Finally, something that isn’t you looking away from me,” he said, leaning a little close. “Are we done being so nervous?”

You simply nodded and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him in for a rather steamy and alcohol fueled kiss. His lips tasted like that sugar cake he was eating at the restaurant, and they felt so much softer than they actually looked. He wasted absolutely no time in kissing you back, a hand tightly gripping your shoulder. You had half a mind to just pull off and chuckle at the sudden desperation in his demeanor, but opted to just continue kissing him. You attempted to instead try and undo the buttons on his shirt, but in doing so you kept sneaking light touches on his chest. 

The rest of the night was a blur, your memories barely there as you woke up in a bed that wasn’t your own, the man from the bar last night in a deep sleep next to you. You wondered what you two had done, taking note of some of the marks on his shoulders and neck. Whatever happened, it looked like he got the rougher end of it. All you had was some small bruising on your wrists and your neck stung a little. The sun shone rather harshly in your eyes and you ended up burying your face in his shoulder. You didn’t even care if he booted you out of the house as soon as he woke up, honestly. Right now you just wanted to try and sleep off whatever last night was left in your system. You felt one of his hands move to the back of your head as he tiredly stroked your hair.. You’d deal with whatever this was later, right now the warmth and the silence was enough to melt the remains of your hangover away. You fell back asleep listening to nothing but the sounds of his breathing. 

Notes:

gone sexual???? thats up to YOUR interpretation lmao
Blame my dear friends OJ, Skip, Cure, and MJ. Unfortunately, they encouraged this behavior.
Also this isn't my finest work but honestly I like how it turned out so