A Night In (Guy, Casual)

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

If there was one time in his life that Peter Aramis never left the house without his shoes on, it was when he was invited over to Guy’s apartment. Sure, Peter was going to have to get his feet washed or wear the booties, but he felt better about his own hygiene when he wasn’t tracking half of New York City into the man’s pristine apartment. He supposed with how hard Guy tried to keep the place clean, he could do his part by not making a huge amount of work for him. So he wore shoes and he even put on clean clothing that Baze hadn’t slept on yet in anticipation of the night. They weren’t doing anything terribly exciting – just dinner and a movie. Guy would be responsible for the food, which was probably a good thing, seeing as how Guy cooked much better than Peter. So he’d offered to bring the movie, which was something he could do, and he had spent half an hour in the rental place trying to think of something Guy might like to see. He’d settled on a few different ones for the variety. There was a French foreign film, a mindless comedy, and some horror movie he wasn’t so sure about, but he was willing to watch it anyways. It didn’t really matter what they watched as long as they had fun.

And that was the surprising part. When they’d first met, the man was wound so tight that Peter doubted they would ever see each other again, even if they had made loose plans to eat together the next week. But the more he got to know Guy, the more he saw him as a person. And while cleaning and organization wasn’t Peter’s idea of fun, he was willing to go along with it because Guy enjoyed it. And in return, they also did things Peter liked. It wasn’t a bad trade off and Peter enjoyed doing new things, even if it was testing out new couch covers.

Whistling to himself, Peter walked down the sidewalk, envious that Guy literally had an apartment that faced the park. His own apartment faced the building next to his, so he supposed anyone with a bit of green had it better, but Guy really landed a nice view. That was part of why they spent more time at his place than Peter’s. The other part was that Peter was messy. Nothing was ever put away, and he had piles of clothing everywhere. Guy’s idea of fun was to clean, but Peter never found the time. So he had been a bit stunned when Guy cleaned his apartment one day. He now had labeled bins and his floor was a different color than he had thought it was when he first moved in because Guy actually got it clean. He’d tried for about a week not to touch anything or mess things up, but now he had a fair mess going again. He was going to have to remember to put things in the bins.

Shaking his head, Peter made his way into Guy’s building, waving at the desk clerk, and making his way up to Guy’s apartment. Pausing outside the door, he tried to brush the subway off a bit before knocking, grinning when the door finally opened.

“Hey Guy,” he greeted. “I come bearing films.”

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

Running into Peter at the Italian restaurant was something that Guy was more than ready to chalk up to a fluke. He didn't have friends, people didn't stick around like that, and he didn't think Peter would be any different. But he was. They set up weekly meals to have together and they actually did. They saw each other every week at least once, more often than not they met up more.

They actually had fun. Well, Guy's idea of fun. Trying out plastic slip covers on his furniture was his idea of fun. So was cleaning Peter's apartment and trying to teach him how to organize. There were bins that Guy bought just for Peter, that he labeled and showed him how to use but Guy doubted he used them. Peter talked while Guy scrubbed his floors (which took forever because they were disgusting) and it was fun.

Real fun.

Guy couldn't remember ever having fun.

Guy worked with attractive people all the time with his work and he'd be blind to not find Peter attractive. He was nice, understanding, he didn't freak out over Guy's freak outs. If anything, Peter was a rock that Guy could actually lean on. He didn't have to face the world completely alone any more and Guy found it nice. A little strange, but nice.

It wouldn't be too big a stretch to say that Guy had a 'crush' on Peter. In fact, it'd be spot on. But he didn't flatter himself in thinking that it meant anything. It was a natural reaction to the first normal interaction he's had in almost two decades. Guy was sure it would pass and he hoped it would. The butterflies and the blushing was annoying.

That didn't stop him from pulling on one of his nicer outfits for the dinner and movie night they planned. A bright orange sweater, green bowtie, pink pants. Guy thought he looked amazing but he probably really looked like a train wreck.

Since Peter couldn't cook without poisoning something, Guy took over the duty. He made macaroni and cheese from a box with hot dogs cut up in it. It wasn't gourmet but it wouldn't land them in the hospital. He had dished them up evenly into two bowls, made iced tea, and was ready when Peter showed up at his door.

Opening the door, Guy shuffled to the side to let Peter in. “I come bearing films.” Guy nodded and motioned to his tv.

"Dinner's ready. I'll go get it if you want to get comfortable. Shoes off, please. You know where the bathroom is so you can wash your feet."

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter smiled when Guy shuffled back to let him in. He had on an orange sweater, green bowtie and pink pants. To say he was wearing the oddest outfit Peter had ever seen was an understatement, but somehow, Guy made it work.

“I’m digging the bowtie. It looks good on you,” Peter complimented, closing the door behind him.

"Dinner's ready. I'll go get it if you want to get comfortable. Shoes off, please. You know where the bathroom is so you can wash your feet."

Peter nodded, toeing his shoes off. He felt much better with them off. His feet were too heavy with them on. They always felt weird. He pulled his jacket off, too, folding it and putting it on top of the shoes. That way he might remember his shoes on his way out. Say what you will about his memory, but he never forgot that leather jacket.

“Thanks, Guy. I’ll just be a couple minutes,” Peter replied, thumbing towards the bathroom.

He was used to the routine. Guy had a thing about germs, so he asked Peter to wash his feet. It really beat the booties, so Peter went along with it. It only took him a couple minutes of scrubbing, and he probably didn’t do as good a job as Guy did when he’d shown Peter the first time, but that was alright with Peter. Guy would probably just wash the floor after he left anyway.

Strolling out of the bathroom, feet clean, Peter wandered into the kitchen to watch Guy get dinner together. He was always a little nervous when Peter first showed up, blushing and ducking his head. Peter thought it was cute, even if he tried to dispel it.

“Smells good, Chef!” Peter commented, his stomach already starting to clench in response to the aroma. He walked closer, taking a look at what was on the menu. “Hot dogs and Mac! My Grandmere used to make that!”

To be fair, she couldn’t cook much else that he and Angelique would eat. Gran liked the finer foods kids just turned their noses up at. Peter couldn’t stop the grin on his face. This was just like being a little kid again. He was going to enjoy the meal even more than usual.

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

“I’m digging the bowtie. It looks good on you.”

Guy blushed again and mumbled a quick thank you, immediately finding a dozen reasons to dismiss the compliment. Social construct, etiquette, an effort to avoid an awkward silence…A handful of things that didn’t involve an honest compliment. Besides, even if it was an honest compliment, it was just a bow tie. Bow ties looked good on a lot of people, it didn't mean that it looked exceptionally good on Guy. Even if he wanted it to. And Guy did; he wanted to look good for Peter. Crush or not, he wasn't going to present himself sloppily to a friend.

“Thanks, Guy. I’ll just be a couple minutes,”

At first, Guy had been very worried that Peter wouldn't take well to his obsessive cleanliness routine. It certainly had driven people away before but not Peter. Either he had the patience of a saint or he didn't care.

Guy hoped it was the latter of the two.

Guy took the time that Peter spent washing his feet to wash his hands in the kitchen sink. God forbid he served a guest with dirty hands.

Peter walked back in, perfectly at home which was something that Guy didn't know how to react to. Even he wasn't comfortable in his own home.

“Smells good, Chef! Hot dogs and Mac! My Grandmere used to make that!”

"It's easy to make," Guy explained hastily. "Instructions on the box that yield the same result over and over again no matter how many times you make it." That consistency was something that Guy loved and craved and would cling to.

Again though, compliments that Guy brushed off. It was food from a box, it wasn't anything special.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"It's easy to make. Instructions on the box that yield the same result over and over again no matter how many times you make it."

Peter chuckled. “For most people, sure. I can honestly say if I were the one cooking, it would never turn out the same way twice.”

And that was probably the best way to describe his cooking, other than poisonous, undercooked, over cooked, or just plain burnt beyond recognition. There was just something about the idea of cooking that never seemed to click with his brain. He wasn’t lazy, he just couldn’t seem to get it right. Now, popping frozen things in the oven? He was all over that like flies on a hog. No one did that better than he did.

“Besides, who said there was anything wrong with easy? It’s still going to taste amazing with less muss and no fuss.”

Complications were something he tried to avoid, so he didn’t mind simple things like easy to make boxed food. It was the thought behind it. Guy could have gone out and picked up something, slapped it down in front of him, and he would have eaten it, but this was childhood comfort food. This would be something he’d enjoy far more than just peeling back the foil off a couple of burgers.

“Tell me what I can do to help,” Peter offered, tempted to start picking at the food, even if he knew Guy would probably give him heck for that. “I could set the table or pour some drinks or something?”

Heck, as long as he got to eat soon, he’d help out however Guy needed him to.

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

“For most people, sure. I can honestly say if I were the one cooking, it would never turn out the same way twice.”

“Practice.” Guy stirred the pot and looked down at it. He considered adding pepper but there was no way to evenly distribute it and Guy didn’t want that. Peter could add pepper if he wanted in his own bowl. Guy wouldn’t be able to do it right if he did the whole pan with pepper. He had a guest, a friend over…he couldn’t give him anything less than his best.

"You just have to work at it. You're perfectly capable of being a great cook, you just have to focus your time, energy, and concentration a bit more to do it."

“Besides, who said there was anything wrong with easy? It’s still going to taste amazing with less muss and no fuss.”

Guy didn’t have a response to that. Peter was right, he supposed, even if Guy didn’t think like that. Guy thought that everything had a very precise, meticulous procedure because it was easier to do everything perfectly right with it broken into small, specific parts. But that was his over thought, over done belief. Perfection was possible and Guy just always made sure it happened.

“Tell me what I can do to help. I could set the table or pour some drinks or something?”

Guy shook his head, transferring the finished meal to a serving bowl. "I've got everything prepared already. There's iced tea in the refrigerator that you can grab though, if you wouldn't mind."

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

“Practice. You just have to work at it. You're perfectly capable of being a great cook, you just have to focus your time, energy, and concentration a bit more to do it."

Peter chuckled at that, thinking Guy was probably right. He was terribly distracted when it came to cooking meals. His head was always on his caseload if he wasn’t occupied enough. He practically lived off take out and cereal for that very reason. Jane had suggested baby steps, working on cooking easy things, then working up to harder things. He wondered if she still wanted to take cooking lessons with him.

“You’re probably right. Practice makes perfect, after all.”

He watched Guy for a moment as he stirred the pot. Now, Guy was the picture of single minded determination in everything he did. It needed to be perfect. He supposed that was the big difference between the two of them. He didn’t need perfection, it just had to work and he was happy.

"I've got everything prepared already. There's iced tea in the refrigerator that you can grab though, if you wouldn't mind."

Peter grinned. “I don’t mind at all. Iced tea, too? Man, you’re spoiling me tonight.”

Next to coffee, ice tea was probably his favorite thing to drink, especially when it was sweetened up. He was a bit of a closet sugar addict. He didn’t add it to things he ate or drank, but he tended to buy things that were loaded with it. Suckers, hard candies, and cinnamon buns were his worst offenses there. But it did give him the incentive to get Baze out as often as possible. He did not want to look like John Travolta by the time he was thirty.

He went over to the fridge as Guy got everything into a serving bowl. The ice tea was in a pitcher, just waiting. He grabbed it and leant against the counter to wait for Guy. He was pretty comfortable in his apartment by now, but he never sat down at another man’s table first unless invited. It was one of the manners his father had drilled into him, which was odd, seeing as how that was dubbed his mother’s job, so he figured it must have been good advice to stick to.

He watched as the finishing touches were made and was really feeling spoiled tonight. He was going to have to return the favor at some point.

“Did I tell you that I’ve been thinking about taking some cooking lessons? My neighbor might go with me, since we’re both terrible cooks,” he threw in, thinking it was far too true, even if Jane was better than he was. “Maybe once I get a bit better at this cooking thing I can cook you dinner.”

It would be a disaster, but he did want to return the favor at some point.

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

“You’re probably right. Practice makes perfect, after all.”

Guy bit his tongue, forcing himself to refrain from pointing out that no human could ever produce perfection though Guy always tried his hardest. He had his idea of man made perfection that he strove to meet with every action. Guy refused to turn out anything that wasn't as close to perfect as it could be.

“I don’t mind at all. Iced tea, too? Man, you’re spoiling me tonight.”

"No I'm not. I'm just treating you like a guest should be treated," Guy said quickly as he carried the serving bowl to the table where the bowls were set out and waiting. He assumed this was how one treated a guest, he had never had one over before.

“Did I tell you that I’ve been thinking about taking some cooking lessons? My neighbor might go with me, since we’re both terrible cooks. Maybe once I get a bit better at this cooking thing I can cook you dinner.”

Guy sat down and motioned for Peter to sit as well. His movements were jerky and almost robotic, the chair perfectly straight, sitting very still, tense, while his hands danced and jerked over his table setting to make sure it was right. "You don't have to. I like...cooking for a friend. It's more fun than cooking for one."

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"No I'm not. I'm just treating you like a guest should be treated."

Peter felt like laughing as Guy quickly dismissed his words, carrying the serving bowl to the table. Guy wasn’t kidding when he said that he had everything already set out and ready to go. It almost looked like a picture out of a magazine. Everything was so perfectly placed he almost didn’t want to sully it up with eating off the plates.

“Well, this guest feels like you’re spoiling him,” Peter replied, setting the pitcher on the table, as well. “Not that I’m complaining.”

He added a chuckle at the end, because he really wasn’t complaining. Dinner was usually take out on the coffee table with a glass of juice or pop. This was a great change. The fact there would be actual plates was a treat.

He waited until Guy sat down and motioned for Peter to join him. While Guy was sitting stiffly, perfectly straight, his hands adjusting everything, Peter sat down comfortably, tucking one of his legs under his butt, the other dangling comfortably, hands resting on his thighs. Peter was feeling very relaxed, where Guy seemed jerky and nervous. He wished he could do or say something to put the other man at ease, but he knew it would just take time. But one day, he was going to cook for Guy, and it would be something that wouldn’t convince the man he was actually dying.

"You don't have to. I like...cooking for a friend. It's more fun than cooking for one."

Peter grinned over at him. “I can tell you had fun and I am more than happy to be the one you’re cooking for.”

He straightened up a bit, craning his neck to get a better look at the meal. He could smell it and his stomach was growling now. It looked as good as it smelled. He leaned back in his chair, remembering to quickly bow his head and give thanks. It was a habit he’d never been able to break. He doubted God cared whether he said it to himself before every meal, but it made him feel better, which was the whole point.

When he was finished, he raised his head and looked back over at Guy, waiting for him to make the first move. It was his table, after all.

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

“Well, this guest feels like you’re spoiling him. Not that I’m complaining.”

"Get used to it then, because if this is spoiling it'll be the norm." Guy's tone was probably a little too gruff for the occasion but Guy couldn't help it. He was spoiling Peter, he was just being a good host. Besides, he wasn't doing anything more for Peter than he would have for himself. Or so Guy told himself to rationalize the fact that his usual dinner was some lettuce and tofu.

“I can tell you had fun and I am more than happy to be the one you’re cooking for.”

Guy snickered a little at that. Fun? Him? He had his fun a couple of weeks ago when he got new slip covers for his chairs. Which Peter had been a part of. Fun wasn't cooking. Cooking was volatile and easy to mess up, too easy in Guy's opinion.

Too difficult to ensure perfection so he usually avoided. That and the current meal definitely wasn't diet friendly for the model.

Guy didn't notice that Peter was waiting, he was too busy creating the perfect first bite with the perfect number of noodles and a piece of hot dog on it. Once he had it right, he ate the forkful for dinner and chewed it 13 times before swallowing. Guy went about forming another perfect bite, talking quietly to himself.

"This is the closest I've ever been to a date..." He muttered under his breath, making a mental note to enjoy it while he could.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"Get used to it then, because if this is spoiling it'll be the norm."

Peter glanced over at Guy with a grin, reaching to serve himself. He could get used to being spoiled if this was the norm. He stabbed at the noodles, popping a bite into his mouth, groaning happily. Oh, now this was better than Grandmere’s. This was rich and creamy and...hot doggy. It was excellent. He was too busy eating to try and compliment Guy about it right then. He figured that he would try after the meal. He looked across the table at where Guy was taking careful bites, chewing slowly. How he could stand to do that was beyond Peter. He was barely giving each mouthful a couple cursory chews before swallowing.

"This is the closest I've ever been to a date..."

It was muttered softly, but he still heard it. Peter swallowed quickly, coughing a little bit as it went down the wrong tube. He reached for his drink, gulping it back. When he could breathe again, he looked over at Guy, wondering if he had just heard what he thought he’d heard. A date? Guy thought this was...was it?

As a rule, Peter didn’t date. Peter went out and had sex. He didn’t do the talking and eating part. He didn’t get to know the people he let touch him because if he didn’t care, he couldn’t get hurt. For that reason, he’d honestly never been on an honest to god date before. The thought that this was a date should have had him quickly thanking Guy for dinner and running for the door. He wasn’t prepared for this, after all.

But...this didn’t bother him like he thought it would. Maybe it was the fact he didn’t think it was until Guy pointed it out. It wasn’t a big thing. Guy was his friend, and he had come to care for him slowly. Plus, he was the last guy out there who would hurt him. Maybe...maybe this was a date. Either way, he couldn’t leave the words hanging like that. Guy would probably take it wrong and that was the last thing that Peter wanted.

“Uh...don’t laugh, but...me too,” he finally managed, twinning his fork through his dinner. “Would it be ok with you if we called it a date?”

He offered one of his lop-sided grins, hoping he hadn’t just ruined dinner.

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

“Uh...don’t laugh, but...me too. Would it be ok with you if we called it a date?”

Guy looked at Peter, more than a little surprised. This was the closest he had gotten to a date too? How did that work? Peter was so nice and attractive, surely he had gone on dates before. He had to. It just didn't make sense.

Part of Guy reacted violently to that idea. He didn't do dates. Dates meant people and people meant germs and unpredictable outcomes. He didn't want any of those things. Guy made a constant effort to avoid all of those things.

But Peter. His first friend since he was 17. He wasn't like 'people', not really. He made an effort to stay clean and to follow Guy's routine, just for him. He went out of his way to make Guy as comfortable as he could and no one had done that before.

After a long pause, fork hovering just above his bowl, Guy nodded. "Okay. It's a date."

((sorry it's so short D: ))

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter was pretty patient. He knew that saying that was going to need a minute to process on Guy’s part, but after a long moment, he wasn’t so sure that Guy was processing it well. He tried not to watch the other man as his fork hovered above his bowl, like he wasn’t so sure he remembered how to eat.

Finally, Guy nodded, replying with an, "Okay. It's a date."

“Alright. A date it is.”

Peter couldn’t help but grin, forking another bite into his mouth. So it was a date. That was...it was good. It was better than not a date, that was for sure. The thing was...what did one do on a date? There was eating, he knew that, but after that...Well, he supposed they would just have to make that up as they went.

Still, this was going to be one for the Aramis family news letter – if they actually bothered to have a family news letter, that is. Twenty four years old before he got around to it, but he was finally giving it a go. Sure, there had been girls when he was fourteen, but you never really dated those girls because you were fourteen, too, and it was just easier to hold hands in groups. Then he’d turned fifteen and spent the better part of the year trying to rehabilitate his arm and solving puzzles instead of dating. And then there was Joey. Not exactly easy to date someone you were hiding a relationship with...

Where was he even going with that? The last thing he wanted to think about was that.

Peter cleaned his plate far quicker than he’d thought, feeling warm and full. “That really was an excellent meal, Guy.”

He hoped Guy would take the compliment. Peter hadn’t had a good home cooked meal since the last time Guy cooked, and even then, it wasn’t hotdogs and mac, like his Grandmere used to make.

“So, from every romantic movie I’ve ever seen, I have some ideas for what happens on a date, but absolutely no practical experience,” he admitted.

But it seemed to be going alright so far. There were no awkward attempts at romance, no silly moments because they were busy making goo-goo eyes at each other. Just two friends who had stumbled into a date. And because they were two friends, he figured they could probably wing it and make out just fine.

"So if there's anything you think we should do or not do, I''m pretty much good with anything."

The last thing he wanted was to make Guy uncomfortable, especially not when this was a first for both of them.

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

“Alright. A date it is.”

Guy nodded and poked his meal around some more, sipping his iced tea every three bites. Now that the dinner was labeled, Guy felt more on edge. Labels like that carried expectations; expectations of behavior and activities that Guy didn't know he was perfectly okay with. Guy's whole knowledge of dating was from tv and movies and he knew that he wasn't comfortable with those things.

“That really was an excellent meal, Guy.”

"Thank you." Guy stood to clean up, making sure to tell Peter to let him handle it. Guests didn't clean up; or so Guy was raised to think.

“So, from every romantic movie I’ve ever seen, I have some ideas for what happens on a date, but absolutely no practical experience,”

"Same for me, actually," Guy admitted while he cleaned things up, hand scrubbing everything easily and quickly before rinsing and letting the dishes dry.

"So if there's anything you think we should do or not do, I''m pretty much good with anything."

Guy didn't answer right away. He didn't have anything in mind to do but he had a lot in mind for what not to do. Anything that involved touching, reckless behavior, excessive feeling sharing, ect. Guy didn't want to voice those though, in case it made Peter uncomfortable. "I'm open to ideas." Was all Guy could figure to say.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter was sure that the whole thing was making Guy feel out of place. He was pushing around his meal, robotically eating and drinking. Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested they call it a date, but he had the feeling any first date between the pair of them would be awkward. It was in their natures. He was a coward, Guy was socially awkward. So far, they were doing extraordinarily well when you took everything into consideration.

Guy merely thanked him when he complimented the meal, getting up to clean, and waving off any help from Peter. So he stood there, loosely crossing his arms so that he didn’t start fidgeting. But naturally, he started babbling. It was his fall back when he was nervous or out of place. Luckily, Guy didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t point it out.

"Same for me, actually. I'm open to ideas."

Peter was somewhat relieved that Guy had the same amount of experience he did when it came to dating. At least he didn’t feel like he wasn’t living up to expectations.

“Well, how about we watch one of those movies I brought?” he suggested, thinking that was the best way to approach things – like it was nothing out of the ordinary. They watched a movie every week or so. It would be a good way to keep things normal. “It’ll be fun.”

Dates were supposed to be fun. He knew that, at least. And as long as he didn’t stick his feet on the coffee table again, it should all go over well enough.

“I brought a French film, a comedy, and some horror film. I wasn’t sure what you would be in the mood to watch.”

Personally, he thought any of the three would be a good way to kick back and hopefully it would be distracting enough for Guy to relax a little, too.