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Who: Bail and Ben
What: An official date
When: Saturday evening
Where: A delicious pizza parlor
Rating/Warnings: NSFW cuz they ~~might~~ discuss the sex, and ~~might~~ do the sex

The reason Bail chose this restaurant was two-fold. One, because the pizza here was phenomenal – very much your classic New York Style pizza with the classic toppings options. Not that Bail was opposed to experimentation with his pizza, tonight just needed to be simple. It was elegant without being black tie.

He also picked this place because the booths had high backs and the lights were dim and it was the prefect amount of privacy for two people on their first “official” date.

They’d seen each other throughout the week a few times for lunch. And Bail couldn’t remember the last time he texted this much to one person.

He also didn’t remember the last time he was this excited for a date.

He arrived first and ordered water immediately when he sat down.

Then he waited, nervously (for god knew what reason? They’d already spent the night together, just sleeping, but still).

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"We're all individuals and there is nothing wrong with realizing the relationship you have with someone is cordial but not close simply because you are two, different individuals. Even if that person is related to you. Some people you click with, some people you just know you don't."

Bail glanced at their food. "Did you want dessert?"

That sounded like a statement on marriage, and likely enough was given Bail's martial status. He wasn't going to pursue it on those grounds.

"That depends. Are you coming home with me tonight?"

Bail was really talking about any kind of relationship, romantic or platonic. But the change in topic had him much more interested.

He could have paused to the question serious thought, but he didn't need it.

"Yes- if that's an invitation." Ever inch of his expression is one of happiness.

Bail changed the topic to dessert, Ben just took it as a jumping off point to change the subject again.

"It is an invitation and in that case, no. Not unless you want to grab something for yourself to go, because you've got something against fruit."

"To fruit?" Bail asked. "Absolutely not."

And then, "Shall I get the bill?" Did that sound too eager? But he decided that it didn't matter if did.

"You asked me. I'm okay with trading payment when we trade who's doing the planning." He finished his wine, put his fork down and napkin on his plate, then looked around to find their server so they could bring the thing.

Hey, they were establishing some stuff here, and things were staying pretty even.

...maybe not per dollar but per input and contributing.

Bail had always intended to pay, he'd asked. He was just asking if they should get the bill now, head to Ben's place and...

Have dessert.

Though, yes, they were establishing boundaries.

The server returned quickly and Bail was ready with his card.

"I'll grab us an Uber back to your place."

"Okay. In that case why don't we had outside to do that and wait?" he asked, once the waiter was gone again. "I could use some fresh air to get some of the wine out of my head."

It was a simple question and he had another one and things he wanted to talk about and a strong desire to touch Bail but they were in motion here so priorities.

Bail followed Ben outside.

"Do you want to walk for a bit before I make the request?"

It was a nice night out and if Ben needed to clear his head, Bail was willing to wait. It was better that they had clear minds if they were headed towards what 'come back to my place' usually implied after a date.

He wasn't exceptionally foggy, but he definitely did want his head to be clear and the walk would help with that.

"Yeah. Let's head back toward my place and make the uber call when we're ready." He started walking, but not before he took Bail's hand again. "I like your dinner choice. How did you find the place?"

Bail, out of silliness or the wine, lifted their hands, held together, and paid close attention while he threaded their fingers. Once done, he lowered their hands.

Ben's hand was warm in his and he liked it there in his. It felt right.

"My family has been going here ever since I was a kid."

Silliness, wine, or just connection it was endearing and having their hands fit together like that felt very, very good. He liked contact with Bail. He found it--

A complicated mix of good things. Reassuring, comforting, a little bit of a turn on, grounding- the list could probably go on.

"If we'd stayed for dessert, what would your order have been?"

Was he playing 20 questions?

...He wasn't volunteering that information.

Bail didn't mind the questions, it was reaffirming to know Ben wanted to know things about him.

"The tiramisu. I highly recommend it when we come again." Because, yes, Bail intended to come back here again, considering how well this date had gone.

"What is your favorite dessert?" Bail could ask questions, too.

"I'll save room next time."

That when was pretty affirming for him. He tightened his hand a little in Bail's to show appreciation of that, and spent a second or two considering the question, just a bit.

"Probably Black Forest Cake. Today. I reserve the right to change that answer at some point. There are a lot of good desserts. Good meaning without marzipan." Which came with a bit of a quick grin. "Is there anything you don't like to eat?"

Bail made a mental note to never give Ben or suggest to Ben anything with marzipan.

"I don't like squid or octopus. I gave them an honest try and I can honestly say I do not like them. All mollusks in general, actually. I haven't found one I like so far- the texture is all wrong."

Ben made a similar note, but with mollusks. "How do you feel about other sea-food?" He was assuming it was a different classification, but there was a range.

"Other seafood is fine, so long as I don't get the feeling that I'm eating the ocean," Bail said.

"You?"

"I like seafood all right, though-" He looked a little pained, even went so far as to grimace. "I am so completely sick of most of it. Even after five years you put seafood or fish that's not deep fried in front of me, and I might turn green."

"What was five years ago?" Bail asked, not jumping to Ben's ice skating career. He was actually wondering if there was a terrible fishing accident in Ben's past.

"I stopped competing." It would have been a fine jump to make. He's almost sorry he didn't have a more interesting story. "Just way too many grilled fish and steamed vegetables in a row. I might be over it in another five years."

"Steamed vegetables is the worst way to cook vegetables," Bail said. "Aside from boiled brussel sprouts. Which is the worst cooked vegetable over everything else. But steamed vegetables is so..." he made a face while he thought of the right way to say it. "Boring."

"There are other options, but I still don't mind those, though I prefer most of them raw. The fish, however, can mostly just stay in the sea. Or get deep fried. I'm not that picky." He honestly still does like vegetables, even steamed ones. "Maybe I'm boring?"

"Got it," Bail said. "I'll keep that in mind when I cook for us. Your vegetables will remain raw." The way the lines around his eyes creased were a dead give away for the joke.

"If the food remains raw, is it actually cooking?" He was smiling, outright. Warm, comfortable, thinking about the uber but also finding the idea of Bail cooking endearing-

and very slightly terrifying under some circumstances.

"If you want to get that technical," Bail said. "It will be the easiest meal I've ever made."