Chapter Text
“Can I get you anything to drink, Love?”
Anthony looked up from the book he had absolutely not been absorbing a word of. The waitress – a pretty woman with long brown hair and what he was pretty sure was a French accent – stared down at him expectantly.
“Oh! Uh, Talisker, please.” He tried to smile normally, but wasn’t entirely sure if he was successful. She nodded, placing a menu down in front of him.
“No problem. Someone joining you?” she gestured to the empty seat across from him, hovering a second menu over the place setting. Anthony nodded.
“Yes, thank you, he’s on his way. About fifteen minutes.” Seventeen to be exact, he thought, but didn’t say, lest he have to admit both to himself and to her that he’d been staring at his watch, counting down the seconds like a mad person, from the second he’d arrived.
She set off towards the bar. Anthony took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, fidgeting as he looked around the pub. All different people, groups, couples, coworkers, going about their evenings, blissfully unaware of the fact that he was sitting over here in the corner, heart lodged firmly in his throat. He had to admit he really was quite jealous.
He heard a tapping noise coming from somewhere, and glanced over in the direction of the source, brow furrowed, only to see that it was in fact him. He’d been unknowingly tapping his pen - the one gifted to him by Asa - rapidly against the cover of his newly acquired Arthur Eddington second edition masterpiece, yet another dead giveaway as to his anxious state. He dropped the pen and leaned back in his seat, trying to appear normal as the waitress returned with his tumbler. Good. This should help.
The smoky, peaty belt was comforting like a familiar, warm blanket, but did nothing to relieve him of the source of his worry. Which, to the outside observer, would look to be simple nerves for a first date… a first date with someone he was a strange (and, if he were being scrupulously honest with himself, probably a little unwise) level of interested in after only one interaction. However, in this case, the outside observer would be wrong. He wasn’t nervous to see Asa. He was nervous not to.
He’s going to show.
He is going to show, you absolute pillock. For crying out loud, he asked you. He chased you down the street just to ask you. He’s not going to stand you up.
He’d spent the better part of the 30 minutes it had taken to walk to Justine’s trying to figure out what exactly was happening here, and why his reaction to the shy, sweet bookseller had been so instantly intense. The second he walked into the shop and his eyes landed on those fluffy golden blond curls, clear blue eyes, and sweet smile, Anthony had been hit with such a wave of deep, fond familiarity that for a brief moment, he’d forgotten where he was. In all honesty, much of their initial interaction felt almost like a blur, as the only thing he could recall with any real clarity was being completely incapable of not smiling like a totally besotted idiot, and not staring like one, either. Which was quite odd, really, because he’d never particularly been one to lose his head that way over a cute guy.
He’d been having a fierce internal debate with himself the entire way down the street after leaving the shop, wondering if it had been just him, if those few charged moments of locked eyes and bashful smiles was just wishful thinking on his part, alternating between wanting to turn around and telling himself that the man had just been doing his job, being nice to a customer. Then, Asa had run after him and swiftly and unambiguously removed all doubt, in a display of both adorable shyness and (Anthony had to admit, with a pleasant twist in his gut) insanely sexy confidence.
I’m not going to give you my number. I’ll wait for you. Where are we having dinner?
He laughed despite himself, taking another sip of his single malt. That’s probably the smoothest I’ve ever been in my life. I’m not sure I could do that again if I tried.
Asa had smiled then, in a way that put the sun to shame, and Anthony had smiled back, this time without feeling stupid, and once again that feeling – that deep, fond familiarity, oh, how it felt like coming home, coming home after such a long time away – crested over him like a wave. A feeling that was somehow simultaneously completely familiar and yet totally foreign. And he suddenly knew, right there on the spot in the middle of the street, that it was going to be very, very hard to live without that feeling ever again. Which was why the idea of the source of that feeling not coming – changing his mind, thinking better of it, or even just getting cold feet – was so profoundly terrifying.
He checked his watch again. 5:56. Four more minutes.
He’ll be here. He’s going to come. He’s –
“Anthony?”
Anthony nearly jumped out of his skin, looking up to see Asa weaving through the crowd, heading towards the table. Again, that radiant, glowing smile, and oh, there it was. The feeling. Not just déjà vu. Home. Coming home. It was like being bathed in a warm, glowing light, deep into his blood and bones. Like he’d never be cold again. He couldn’t help himself. He could feel it – the besotted, silly grin was back.
He swallowed hard and stood up, extending his hand. “Hello for a third time,” he said, trying desperately to appear much, much cooler than he felt.
Asa laughed and took his hand in both of his. Anthony remarked internally at how soft yet strong they were. Everything about Asa, it seemed, was comforting and soft.
“Thank you so much for waiting,” Asa said, as they both settled into their seats. “And…and for even agreeing to this. I must confess, I really didn’t think you would.” His cheeks tinged pink.
Oh fuck right off. Is he serious?
“Of course I would,” he said instead, and before he could stop himself, added, “To be totally honest, I was already trying to think of an excuse to go back to your shop tomorrow. But you, uh…you beat me to it.”
Asa’s eyes lit up in delight. “Really?”
Anthony laughed. “Really. I don’t think either one of us was very subtle there.”
“No, we decidedly were not. Derek commented on it the second you left, actually.”
Anthony winced. “Ouch. We were that obvious?”
“I’m afraid so.” Asa winced in turn, good-naturedly. Anthony could feel himself blush.
“On that note, how was the rest of your shift? Did you tell him what happened?”
“I certainly did. He actually let me go a few minutes early so that I could get here before six. I, uh. I really wanted to make sure I wasn’t late.”
Anthony smiled. “You were four minutes early, actually. Not that I was counting, or anything.” Oh good grief, my voice. I sound bloody ridiculous.
Asa chuckled. “And I definitely did not spend the last 30 minutes at the shop watching the clock. Nope, not me.”
Anthony was grateful for the waitress reapproaching their table – it was a welcome distraction from the fact that all he seemed to be able to do right now was smile and laugh. She set two waters in front of them.
“Good evening, Gentlemen! Just letting you know that tonight’s specials are baked salmon over lemon risotto, a cream of vegetable soup, and a roasted rosemary chicken with butter potatoes. Dessert special is marmalade pudding. Can I get you anything to drink while you look over the menu?”
They looked at each other. “How do you feel about wine?” Anthony asked. Asa’s eyes lit up and he laughed. It seemed every time he did, the sound was more beautiful than the last.
“I am…quite the wine lover. What are you thinking?”
Anthony turned his gaze back up towards the waitress. “Do you have any Châteauneuf-du-Pape on right now?”
She grinned widely. “Oh, yes. I’m French, it’d be a crime if I didn’t. I’m also pretty picky about what we bring in, so all of them are great. Would you like to see the full offerings?”
He turned to Asa suddenly. “Oh, I should ask. Do you like Châteauneuf?”
Asa looked absolutely tickled pink. “That’s…actually my favorite.”
Anthony blinked. “Mine, too.”
There was a stretched silence as they grinned at each other. Asa finally managed to tear his eyes away long enough to look up at the server, who at this point Anthony had pieced together was Justine herself.
“Pick out your best Châteauneuf-du-Pape, and we’ll take the bottle.”
Justine nodded, clearly impressed. “I’ll be right back. Take your time.”
Anthony turned to Asa, eyebrows raised. “Thank you. That’s…overly generous.”
Asa shook his head. “Nonsense. It’s my pleasure. What are you going with?”
“I think I’m going to take them up on the chicken. You?”
“You know what? Same. Something about that just feels so ‘hit the spot’ right now.” He put down the menu and leaned forward, resting on his elbows with keen interest. “So, a professor. Are you still teaching?”
“I am. I’m at Imperial.” Asa looked incredibly impressed, to his absolute delight. “I’ve been on their faculty for a while, but I’ve only got about three more years before I can finally retire.”
“Lovely! I actually used to teach as well, before I went into business with Derek. Primary school.”
Anthony nodded, pleased in return by that information, just as Justine came back to their table with the wine. He had a sudden vision of Asa, with his curls and his soft voice and gentle demeanor, surrounded by school kids, firm and kind and patient, and his heart did a flip flop.
“Do you miss it?” he asked, as Justine went to work opening the foil and popping the cork.
“I do, sometimes, but honestly, it’s so easy to burn out on it these days. It seems like it’s just getting harder and harder to really make an impact with difficult parents and all the cellular telephone devices and social interaction applications.”
Anthony couldn’t resist – it was too sweet, too charming. His grin widened, and he let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward onto the table as well. “You mean mobiles and social media?”
Asa blushed, that adorable, silly blush that Anthony quickly found himself getting addicted to. “Oh, I got it wrong, didn’t I? I never know the proper bloody terms for these things. I’m a decade behind everyone else, it always seems. We still have an analogue register at the shop, as I’m sure you noticed.”
Anthony had. “Honestly, you’re probably better off. It’s taken over university, too. I had to ban phones from my lecture halls entirely.”
Just as Asa seemed prepped to respond, Justine poured a taster of the wine into his glass. “Would you like to try, sir?”
“Oh yes. Yes, please.” Asa picked the wine up, gave it a swirl, and swallowed it down smoothly. Anthony watched as he closed his eyes in bliss and let out a small, low moan.
It was all Anthony could do to keep from gasping. Once again, he felt that twist, but this time in his groin, not his gut. He drew in a deep, shaky breath, hoping the other man didn’t notice. Heat crept up his neck, and he quickly reached for his water, hiding behind a sip. Internally, he scolded himself. Get a grip. This is mental. You just met him. What is going on with you tonight?
“Have we decided?” Justine asked, pouring them both full glasses and pulling Anthony out of his reverie. After they’d ordered and she’d wandered off, Asa immediately returned his attention to him, rapt.
“So,” he said cheerfully, “Astrophysics. How did you get into that?”
He was grateful for the question and the opportunity to pull himself together, and reached for his wine. “Oh, wow, I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t, to be honest. But if I had to really pick a specific moment, I’d say it was when I was in fourth year at primary school. My class took a trip to the Planetarium in Edinburgh, and I just remember sitting there looking up at the constellations and the star systems and just…it was like falling in love. As much as a nine-year-old can, at least.” He laughed. “Something about it all just seemed…I don’t know, like it was a part of me in some way? I’ve been totally obsessed ever since.”
Asa was hanging on his every word. It did something to him. Anthony took a sip of wine and swallowed hard.
“Anyway, after that, for my tenth birthday, my parents bought me my first telescope and when I tell you I must’ve been out in our front garden every clear night with that thing…”
Asa giggled, delighted. “I can just imagine you now, sitting on a blanket in the front yard bundled in a coat, your parents yelling at you that it’s late and you have to get to bed because it’s a school night…”
Anthony chuckled, sheepish. “And you would be absolutely correct. The best visibility is always in the middle of the night, so sometimes I would wait until they were asleep and sneak back out. Oh, I was dead annoying as a child, really.”
“Somehow, I find that incredibly difficult to believe.”
“No, it’s true. I was constantly reading, constantly asking questions, super overly inquisitive. Annoyed my classmates to no end. And my teachers too, to be honest. I remember them always trying to find a way to spin it positively on my school reports. ‘Anthony is a sweet and curious boy. While that curiosity is an admirable trait, it would do him good to learn there are limits.’”
Asa tsked. “As a former primary school teacher, may I very politely yet emphatically say, bollocks.”
Anthony smiled. “I think you may be a bit biased.”
“I most certainly am, and I make no apologies.”
“Noted.” A pleased, warm tingle spread through Anthony’s chest. Asa looked at him fondly.
“But in all seriousness, I loved the curious ones. It showed that they cared.”
“Yes, well, I guess I cared a bit too much. I would spend hours in the library checking out books on the star systems, the solar system, constellations, nebulas, you name it, and… and I’m realizing right now that I’m making myself sound like an enormous geek, which is not what you want to do when you’re trying to impress someone new.” He chuckled sheepishly. “Maybe I should stop talking.”
“No!” Asa held out his hand in placation, shaking his head insistently. The early evening light shone on his golden curls. Anthony wondered how they would feel between his fingers. “No, please don’t. You don’t sound that way at all, truly. I think…
“…I actually think you’re just lovely, really.” Whether he intended it that way or not, it came out as an almost exuberant sigh, like he’d been holding the words in for an eternity and was finally, finally permitted to let them out.
There was a long, pregnant pause as they stared at each other over the table. Anthony felt an odd lump in his throat, which quickly morphed into a gentle throb. Suddenly, absurdly – inexplicably – he felt like crying.
What is happening right now?
“Some warm bread, lads,” Justine’s voice broke through as she placed a basket in front of them, and a small ramekin of butter.
After she sauntered away, Anthony cleared his throat, his heart absolutely racing in his chest. He took a deep breath around what felt like an acute ache. A pretty flush had spread up Asa’s cheeks, and he was nervously fidgeting with the gold ring around his pinky – something Anthony had already observed was a tell for when he was feeling unsure or anxious. He recalled seeing him do it when he’d first asked Anthony for his number. Not for the first time that evening, an odd sort of déjà vu overtook him. Someone I knew once used to do that, he thought suddenly, although he could not remember who for the life of him.
He looked directly into Asa’s eyes. Clear, blue, beautiful, scared. Familiar. Why so familiar?
“Thank you,” he finally answered, just barely above a whisper. Then, deciding to abandon all hope of maintaining what he constantly heard his students refer to as “chill,” the warmth within him seemed to manifest into what he was sure was the brightest, most radiant, most glowing smile he’d ever given anyone in his entire life.
What could only be described as joyful relief bloomed on Asa’s face. He chuckled shyly, and Anthony reached forward, helping himself to a roll.
“So,” he said, trying to inject some normalcy into what he was increasingly frequently having to remind himself was just a first date. “Are you from London originally?”
***
“How was everything?”
“Oh, scrumptious. Just, absolutely scrumptious,” Asa said, and for the one hundredth time that evening, Anthony almost couldn’t handle how adorable he was.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone use that word in real life before,” he remarked, as Justine cleared their plates away. Asa laughed knowingly.
“Oh, uh, that was actually my mother who always said that! She also loved ‘tickety-boo.’ As in, ‘everything is tickety-boo.’” He winced playfully. Anthony’s eyebrows rose, amused.
“Tickety-boo? That’s a good one! Definitely haven’t heard that before.”
“Also, ‘squiffy.’” He held his hands up in finger quotes. “Hopelessly yet amusingly drunk.”
“Oooh, yes. Squiffy is great,” he agreed, taking the last sip of his wine – the bottle between them sat long empty. That probably explained why, despite being aware that he very likely looked like a 12-year-old schoolgirl staring at her crush, he couldn’t bring himself to care in the slightest. He leaned forward on his elbow, cheek in hand.
“So, tell me about the bookshop,” he said.
Asa looked well chuffed. “Oh! Well, um, Derek – I’m not sure if I told you, he was the original owner, I’ve known him since I was a child. He was a longtime friend of my parents. Anyway, he was looking to reduce his hours and pass off most of the responsibilities to someone else. I had already decided that that would be my final year teaching, so when I mentioned that, he asked if I’d be at all interested in helping him out in a sort of semi-retirement.” He grinned brightly. “And of course, bookshops are one of my favorite things in the whole world, so I said yes.” He sighed happily. “After a while he asked if I was interested in co-owning with him, so that’s how we became business partners. He’s typically only there one or two days a week now. You just managed to come on a day he was in. Also a former teacher, by the way. We always seem to find each other, don’t we?”
“Don’t we just. It’s wonderful it’s done so well. It’s so hard to compete with things like Amazon and whatnot these days.”
“I think what made us successful is the fact that we became known for hard to find, niche things that you typically have to pay a fortune for online, to a massive corporation. We’re really good at tracking them down and offering them at a fair price.”
“Like twenty pounds,” Anthony said cheekily.
“Like twenty pounds,” Asa agreed, delighted.
“Do you think you’ll ever buy him out?”
“You know, I’ve considered the idea, but at the same time, I’m not sure I want to retire fully in London. I love it here, but I’ve always loved the idea of heading out more towards the country. More land, more space, an actual house.”
“Oh, no, I understand entirely. If I had it my way, I’d build a cottage on the top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere so I could just stargaze every single night.”
Asa grinned widely. “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”
“Can I get you two anything else? More wine?” Anthony hadn’t even heard Justine reapproach. More and more, it was feeling like they were the only two people in the entire room. The entire world, even.
“Oh, no, we’re all set, thank you,” Asa said. “Trust me, I have plenty of Châteauneuf-du-Pape at home.” Off Anthony’s inquisitive look, he explained, “I actually collect. I may have…downplayed it a bit before, when I told you I was a huge wine lover. You know how you are about telescopes? I’m that way about my wall-to-wall collection.”
Anthony’s eyes turned to saucers. “A wall-to wall wine collection?”
Asa chuckled at his expression, taking the bill from Justine and reaching for his wallet. “Oh yes. I treated myself several years ago when I started getting more into it. It stretches the entire length of my living room. My pride and joy, if I may.”
Anthony groaned wistfully. “I’m actually astonishingly jealous,” he sighed. “I’d love to see that.”
Asa tapped his card against the machine, and for the first time all evening, Anthony noticed the corner of her lips were quirked up. He’d been so enthralled it hadn’t even occurred to him that she may have been eavesdropping on – and probably greatly enjoying – this whole thing.
“Well then,” Asa said, and that touching shyness mixed with sexy confidence was back. “I guess we’ll just have to have our next dinner at mine, and I can show you.”
A beat. Justine smirked. “Have a wonderful evening, lads,” she said, and left them alone.
Asa blushed fiercely. “I…I suppose that was terribly presumptuous of me,” he admitted, a bit of uncertainty flashing in his eyes.
Anthony couldn’t correct it fast enough. “No,” he said, emboldened by either the wine or the energy or both, and practically lunged forward, without thinking, laying his hand on top of Asa’s in reassurance. “It’s not presumptuous at all.”
They both seemed to realize what had happened simultaneously, looking down at their hands. Fuck, Anthony thought. Fuck fuck fuck. That was bang out of order, wasn’t it? I’m going too fast.
He gave Asa’s hand an awkward squeeze before pulling back. “I mean,” he said softly, clearing his throat, “…I’d love that.”
He saw Asa’s throat bob, his eyes still looking down at the hand that had been touching his own only seconds before. Finally, after a long moment, he looked up at Anthony with that clear blue stare that Anthony felt like he could just fall into, if he gazed into it long enough.
When Asa finally spoke, there was a small tremble to his voice, but a firm conviction behind it.
“Would you fancy a bit of a walk?”