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Their first ‘real’ date had started as nothing short of awkward. It was late on a Sunday night, the only time both had available that week, and Jack was, for one of the first times in his life, at a loss for words. He picked at his food, twisted his napkin into knots in his lap, and focused on the intricate designs on the floor rather than how a single glass of wine from this place cost almost half of his paycheck, and pointedly ignored the pale brown eyes boring into him. He realized for the first time that, despite how much he had been around Pitch in the past few weeks, he knew next to nothing about the man sitting across from him.
Said man watched in silent awe as Jack constantly pulled on his tie and stabbed each tiny vegetable on his plate individually, and wondered if perhaps this was a completely different person than the short, energetic man who had so eagerly thrown himself into the fray when they first met. Granted, the only things he really had to base his personality off of was how he acted when slightly buzzed and the multiple times they managed to stumble back to his apartment in the middle of the night.
He cleared his throat when Jack caught him staring and quickly searched his mind for something to talk about. “You said you work with children.”
“Huh? Yeah, I work at a daycare.” Jack said, setting his fork down only to replace it with his napkin, which, had it not been made of cloth, would have been completely shredded by this point. “I seem to have a knack for taking care of kids, so, I figured I’d find someplace I can get paid for it. And I don’t have to act all stiff and grown up all the time.”
“Yes, it must be nice to perpetually relive one’s childhood.”
Jack shrugged. “Hey, for someone who didn’t really have a childhood, it’s actually kind of nice.”
“You didn’t get to have a childhood?” Pitch asked, eyebrow raising in curiosity.
Jack averted his gaze, and his demeanor suddenly switched from nervous to forlorn. “No, not since... The Accident.” The table fell silent for a good twenty seconds, and Pitch found himself fumbling to form an apology when Jack looked back up at him, and his lips were trembling, trying desperately to suppress... a smile? He suddenly burst into laughter, shoulders shaking as he smacked the table and caused a few of the other visitors to turn as stare.
“Oh my god! The look on your face, that was perfect!” Jack gasped, covering his mouth to try and keep his laughter quiet. “Oh man, that never gets old. I’m sorry, I had to. It was too perfect to pass up.”
Pitch stared in shock, mouth hanging open as he tried to figure out whether he was supposed to laugh or scream.
“In all seriousness, though, I don’t actually remember anything. I woke up at sixteen and the only thing I knew was my name.” he said, making a sweeping motion with his hand.
Pitch cleared his throat, searching for an appropriate response. “You’re awfully nonchalant about this. Sixteen years is a lot to lose.
“Yeah, well, I had my teenage years to angst about that. I figure I can’t miss what I don’t remember having, so there’s no point getting all beat up over it. All I can do is hope that whatever life Jackson Overland lead as a kid was a pretty good one and move on from it.”
“Yes, I suppose that makes sense.”
“So you’re, uh, the cold, hardy business type, I take it?” Jack asked, changing the subject back to where it had originally started, and for that Pitch was grateful.
“Architect, actually.”
“So you make buildings and stuff, that’s cool.”
“If you enjoy hunching over piles of paper and drawing lines and measurements every day, I suppose it could be considered enjoyable.”
“No, but I mean, you get to design buildings! You get to literally make the entire bone structure of a house or office or whatever out of graphing paper and some pencil strokes and watch it become something real and tangible. That’s kind of really cool.”
Pitch couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride from the way Jack gushed over his job, and for the first time in a while he didn’t feel like it was such an overwhelming burden. He looked down at the neatly organized meal and back to Jack, who continued to adjust his collar and pick at his food. “I have a few blueprints in my apartment that I’m working on, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to cut this meal short?”
Jack grinned, tossing his utensils carelessly onto the table, and visibly brightened at the proposition. “Oh hell yeah.”
Pitch’s apartment was much less organized than the few times Jack had been over, though he wasn’t sure if it was just because he hadn’t exactly been paying attention to his surroundings at the time or not. He promptly yanked the tie off from around his neck and let out a sigh of relief, leaving it hanging loosely on his shoulders. “God, I hate dressing up... So, do you actually have those blueprints, or were you just as eager as I was to get out of there?”
“I’m offended you think I would lie to you just to get you back to my apartment.” Pitch scoffed, holding a hand to his heart if false hurt as he shrugged off his coat. “They’re on the desk in my study, the choice is yours if you want to take a look.”
“Well, we could go look at those blueprints,” Jack pondered, gently pulling on Pitch’s tie, bringing him closer with each word “or we could get more acquainted without having to pay for overpriced meals and have a bunch of snobby rich-folk watching us.”
“Oh, is that what you think of people who eat there?” Pitch asked, the amusement clear in his voice as he worked open the button’s of Jack’s shirt.
He shrugged in response, helping to undo the tie still secured around Pitch’s neck. “Only the snobby rich ones.”
Pitch simply grinned, lightly brushing his lips over the Jack’s ear and took silent pleasure in how such a simple action made the man shiver. “I don’t suppose I fall into that category?”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that.” Jack breathed, maneuvering them over to the couch, and didn’t hesitate to listen when a hand prompts him to sit. Pitch knelt over him, one hand resting on the back of the couch and the other tangled in his hair, and he couldn’t find it in him to care whether or not he knew any of the finer details of this man’s life, because there would be plenty of time for casualties later.
Jack moved away from the kiss slowly, taking a much needed breath before looking up to meet pale brown eyes. “No more dinner dates?”
Pitch laughed at that, pulling Jack in for another kiss as he nodded. “No more dinner dates.”