Author Note: This story is not my usual sort of bit, but it wouldn't leave me alone until it was written, which I'm sure we all know about.

Anyway, this is a story set in the same universe as the Mind Tricks trilogy, however, I don't think you really have to be following Mind Tricks to be able to read it, nor is there anything in this story that's particularly vital to understanding the rest of Mind Tricks, save for a few references to bits of WWE history that are different in this universe. This is just a little sidestep showing a bit of background in the universe and showing how Jeff and Morrison originally hooked up. They wanted it, not me, heh. So while I'm considering this canon for the rest of the trilogy and there might be one or two references to incidents here in the actual trilogy, it's not of vital importance, just a little bit of fluff I had to brush off before we got to the serious stuff again. So just enjoy...or not, whichever, it's all good, heh.

Also, I don't know if RL Jeff is allergic to eggs (I doubt it), but I am in this way, and he appears to be in this universe, so...yeah, there ya go. :P

( )

John Morrison studied himself briefly in the mirror of his hotel room, straightening out the maroon dress shirt he was wearing, reaching down to smooth out the silver jeans and turning to make sure his black boots weren't scuffed or otherwise imperfect. He figured for what he was about to do, it wouldn't really matter whether or not he actually looked nice, but he wanted to show he'd made the effort at least. He ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times and contemplated a pair of sunglasses momentarily. It was a little before seven o'clock so it was already darkening out on the late summer evening, and he didn't think he'd be anywhere that he'd need them anytime soon, but it was a little bit more of his presentation. He finally settled on tucking them into the pocket of his dress shirt, then looked into the mirror again, squinting some. He was finally sure that he was ready, so he tucked a wallet into his back pocket, pulled on a gleaming silver Rolex, put a silver chain around his neck, and headed to the door, pulling it closed behind him and tucking a keycard into his pocket.

Morrison made his way to the elevator, taking out his wallet and checking the room number he'd written down earlier again. 527, the same as it had been the last dozen times he'd checked. He was in 313, so he had to go up a couple of floors. He put his wallet away, hit the up button and stepped into the elevator when it arrived, pushing the button with the small "5" engraved on top. He fidgeted a little nervously as he watched the numbers overhead lighting up and blinking out, and when five lit, he stepped out and headed down the hall, fluffing worriedly at his hair.

This hadn't been something he'd completely planned to do, exactly. He and Jeff Hardy, after he had, more or less accidentally, helped Jeff beat CM Punk in a cage match, saving his career and gaining him the title, had begun somewhat innocently hanging out, spending more time together, eventually to the point where it seemed obvious they were interested in one another. Morrison had never really thought about a man in that way-however, aside from Melina and a couple other girlfriends in his youth, he hadn't thought of a lot of people that way period. And he'd certainly never thought it out deeply enough to reject the idea, so the thought of going on a date with a guy hadn't phased him, and it apparently hadn't phased Jeff, either, since he'd said yes as soon as Morrison had brought up the prospect.

After discussing it with still-friendly Melina, however, she'd immediately started poo-pooing any ideas he'd had on how to go about it. "Johnny, it's a first date," she'd said, raising her eyebrows at him in that way that meant he'd done something stupid. "You can't go throwing all this crazy stuff out on a first date. You gotta go traditional and make sure you're both at ease."

A brief consultation with Jeff's friends had gotten him the same advice. "Jeff'll give you plenty of time to do weird things," Shane Helms had said. "A first date is to test your chemistry, make sure you're comfortable together before you do anything else. Be on neutral ground."

So he'd asked Jeff to go out for dinner and a movie, Jeff had said sure, and they were meeting tonight, as soon as Morrison made it to Jeff's room and picked him up.

He saw the door he was looking for, and stepped up to it, taking a breath, brushing at his clothes again, then knocked.

After a second, there was a sound of a lock clicking, and the door came open a crack, though the chain lock was still engaged, and a rather suspicious pair of dark brown eyes was staring out at him. "You're cutting it close to late."

"Sorry, Matt," Morrison said, shrugging faintly. "I, uh, made it on time though."

Matt Hardy studied him a second longer, then the door shut, the chain was undone, and the door came open again, with Matt standing there in ratty old jeans and a worn red T-shirt, still watching him as intently as ever. "Jeff's in the bathroom, he's almost ready."

"Uh-huh." Morrison stepped into the room, looking around at the rather haphazard array of clothes, magazines, blankets, and pillows tossed all over the room, the bed, and the chairs. "You guys are all lived in here already, huh? We're only staying two nights."

"Jeff seems to have some need to register his territory by coating it with his things." Matt jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, still regarding Morrison somewhat coolly.

"Well, we all have our little eccentricities, and Jeff has his fair share," Morrison said, chuckling a little.

"Uh-huh," Matt replied evenly.

Morrison glanced over at him. "Did I do something to piss you off, Matt?"

Matt smirked faintly, shaking his head ever so slightly. "Not yet," he replied.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Matt turned towards him, looking him squarely in the eyes. "Look, we're gonna get something straight here, Johnny. You and Jeff have been having this little flirtation going on since you helped him beat Punk, and I haven't said anything yet."

"Well, you don't really gotta say-,"

"Shut up." Matt raised his eyebrows slightly, but not his voice, and somehow that got Morrison's attention more than if he had yelled. "Now I grant you I'm gonna come off a little bit stereotypical and rude here, but it's gonna just have to sound that way. Jeff's my baby brother, and we've had our differences back in the old days, but when we've got that ironed out, he and I have been the most important people in each other's lives, and that's not something I carry around lightly. Our friends respect that, Beth respects that, Angie respects that, and I expect anyone else who gets involved with us to respect that. So I'll say this...I'll say it once, and I expect you to understand it and respect it. If you're gonna take my baby brother out on a date, then you're gonna treat him with the proper honor and dignity he deserves."

"I have every intention-,"

"And if you don't," Matt continued, still in that quiet, calm voice. "Then I think maybe you ought to know that I have a permit to carry and I always sleep with my favorite gun under my pillow."

Morrison blinked. "What? Oh, come on, Matt. A statement like that's a little hard-boiled, don't you think? You're just trying to fuck with me, man."

Matt smirked again. "Maybe. I just wanted to see what you would do." He reached out abruptly, throwing an arm around Morrison's neck and pulling him in closer. "But it's all good because I like to think that you're a nice guy who isn't going to mistreat anyone. 'Cuz I'd hate to think about what might just have to happen anyway if Jeff comes home in any condition other than perfect tonight." Matt glanced at Morrison, the arm around his neck becoming momentarily tight enough to be somewhat painful. "And he will be coming home tonight. Or else. Are we all clear?"

Morrison was no longer completely sure whether Matt was fucking with him. "Um, okay," he squeaked out, managing to worm his way loose, rubbing his neck a little and making sure to keep the oh-ha-ha-good-joke expression firmly on his face. "Is, uh, Jeff almost ready?"

Matt studied him a minute more, then walked over to the bathroom door, rapping on it a couple of times with his knuckles. "Jeff, Johnny's here, finish what you're doing and get out here."

"Okay, I'm almost ready!" Jeff's voice came through. Though he seemed to have proclaimed his unreadiness, the door came open almost immediately, and Jeff came out, twisting his hair-currently a shade of indigo so dark that it actually appeared black-up into a loose bun. He was wearing what looked to be-for him-simple black cargo pants with dark red stitching and embroidery along the pockets, a black turtleneck, and almost painfully white sneakers. Compared to the sheer blackness of everything else about him at the time, they were like a beacon that Morrison couldn't help but find his eyes drawn to. "Hi, Johnny," Jeff said, even as he finished yanking his hair more or less into place.

"Um, hi," Morrison said, managing to look up, chuckling a little. "You ready to go?"

"Just need to find my wallet..." Jeff glanced around the room, starting to chew on his fingernail. "I think...left in my green ones..."

"Over by the sink," Matt said, gaze never leaving Morrison, who made something of a concentrated effort not to look back at him.

Jeff looked over, grinning, and beelined for a pair of lime green windpants, picking them up and digging through the pockets, pulling out a blue cloth wallet and sticking it into his pocket. "Good call," he said, turning and heading back, grinning at Morrison. "Come on, let's go, we've got reservations in half an hour."

"Don't be out too late," Matt said, finally tearing his gaze away from his apparent attempt to bore holes in the side of Morrison's head just long enough to reach over and pull Jeff into a casual one-armed hug and a quick kiss to the cheek. "We still have a show tomorrow."

"Don't sweat it," Jeff said, waving a hand at him, grinning. "But don't wait up." He turned, grabbed Morrison's wrist and hauling him to the door, leading him out. Morrison had just enough time to catch one last glance at Matt's cool stare once more before the door was pulled shut behind them. "Sorry about that, I was having a hell of a time getting going. I always hate getting ready to go someplace. So much effort."

"Oh," Morrison said, blinking a little. "I, uh-,"

"Oh, no no, it's not like I don't want to go," Jeff said quickly. "I just don't like the actual act of getting ready to go. Gotta go through the same little goofy ritual every time, take a shower, wash your hair, comb things, dress things, press things, brush things, it's just...ugh. If Matt or Vince would let me, I'd just go around in my pajamas all the time. It would be so much nicer."

"But you always seem like you go so far out of your way to make a statement with your clothes," Morrison said, walking to the elevator and hitting the down button.

"Well, I figured if people are gonna make me dress up, I'm gonna do it my way," Jeff said with a faint grin. "Besides, look who's talking, he of the painted-on tights and giant fur coats."

Morrison snickered a little, stepping onto the elevator as it dinged and the doors came open, waiting for Jeff to follow him before hitting the button for the first floor. "My tights are simply too fantastic for words and you know it."

Jeff snickered, tilting his head. "So did Matt give you the angry big brother speech? He had that tone of voice."

"I think he was just messing with me. He went as far as to tell me about the gun he keeps under his pillow."

"Oh he does," Jeff replied, looking back at him. "It's only for if people try to bust into the room at night, though, he wants to be prepared. He would never use it on someone who wasn't doing anything wrong."

Morrison stared over at him with wide eyes. "He actually had a gun in there?"

"Yeah, but like I said, it's only for protection." The doors came open with a ding, and Jeff headed off the elevator. "Are we taking your car? I forgot to get my keys from Matt so I guess we have to..."

Morrison was still staring after him in silent shock, but quickly ran after him, shaking his head quickly. "Yeah...yeah..."

( )

They made their way to Morrison's vehicle, a bright red sports car, and chatted amicably about not much of anything on the drive to the restaurant...mostly about work, titles, past matches, things of that sort, with an occasional idle commentary about any interesting sights on the road along the way. They arrived at the restaurant Morrison had picked out fairly quickly, and left the car with the valet as they made their way in.

Jeff was tugging at the collar of his turtleneck a little bit as they walked through the front lobby towards the hostess. "Valet parking? I'm not underdressed so that they're gonna push a coat and tie on me, am I?"

"No, no, this place isn't like that. The valet thing is just because parking is such a bitch in this area. This is a nice little fusion place me and Melina found a while back and we both just loved it. It's kind of a New Age place with a steakhouse and it's a weird combination but it sort of works. I figured it was perfect."

"I do like steak," Jeff said almost thoughtfully, as Morrison walked to the hostess, grinning lightly.

"Martin, party of two," he said. "I'd requested the private room?"

"Of course, Mr. Martin, right this way, please."

"Martin?" Jeff asked, as the hostess swept up a couple of menus and headed towards the back of the restaurant.

"When there's a wrestling show in town, sometimes people will call around asking for reservations under our names and try to be there to beg for autographs. I circulate through a few different names to try and keep ahead of them."

"Ohhh. Good plan, man!" Jeff followed after as the hostess opened a door to a more isolated area of the restaurant, with only a few small tables scattered around. The hostess led them to a double, already set with a plate of some kind of shrimp appetizers and small salads and glassware of ice water. "Here you are, gentlemen, your waiter will be by shortly, is there anything else I can get for you? Would you like to try some of our house wine?"

"Uh, what do you think, Jeff?" Morrison asked, glancing at him.

"I guess we could try a glass, see how it is..." Jeff said, shrugging noncommittally.

"Okay, we'll take two glasses, then."

The hostess smiled and nodded, heading out as Jeff and Morrison settled into their chairs, picking up the menus she had left behind and starting to look over them. "I don't think I've ever been on a traditional first date like this since I was in high school. And even then I don't think that I was just doing it because it was what everyone said I was supposed to do. It's kind of cool, actually."

"It is kind of cool. Plus dinner and a movie can't really go too spectacularly wrong. You wanna save things like skydiving for like, third date material."

Jeff grinned. "That actually sounds like a pretty awesome first date for me." He looked down, picking up one of the shrimp and nibbling at it. "Hey, this is pretty good."

Morrison took his fork and speared another piece, sampling it as well and nodding. "It is good. So, any idea what you're going to order?"

"I like the look of this sirloin, with the potatoes and stuff," Jeff grinned, trailing a finger over the page. "What about you?"

"I'm thinking the white cheese quiche with an almond salad...I've gotten it here before and it was really good."

"White cheese quiche? That's from the new agey style half of the restaurant, huh?"

"Don't knock it till you try it."

A young man with a red vest entered the room, carrying a bucket of ice with a bottle of wine and two goblets with gold rims, setting them down on either side of the table and pouring a measured amount of red wine into each glass, announcing himself as he did. "Good evening, gentlemen, my name is Rolando and I'll be your waiter this evening. The manager has sent this bottle over on the house for you."

"Oh, that's awesome, thanks," Jeff said, as Rolando set the bucket on a small tray next to the table, then took a notepad from his apron, holding it.

"Are you gentlemen ready to order or do you need a little more time?"

"No, we're ready," Morrison said, and the two ordered their meals and dismissed Rolando, who smiled warmly and went on his way, leaving them to sip at the offered wine.

"Is this good wine?" Jeff asked after a couple of tastes.

"Um, I'm really not sure. I don't know much about wine. It's not bad, though, so I guess it's okay." Morrison chuckled.

"Aren't you supposed to, like...?" Jeff lifted the glass and swirled it around a little, making the wine whirl inside the glass. "Like, do something like this before you drink it?"

"I don't know. Did that help?" Morrison asked as Jeff tasted the wine again.

"Not that I can tell. It still tastes the same to me."

Morrison laughed. "Next time we go out, we'll go somewhere that we're not woefully unprepared for."

Jeff smiled, nodding some, sipping the wine and trying another of the shrimp, while Morrison tested his salad, both of them silent for a moment. Then he spoke up again. "I was actually really surprised that you asked me out, Johnny."

"You were?" Morrison asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah. I mean, we'd been hanging out and all, and I figured we were closing in on friends, but I wasn't sure whether or not you might be interested to go anywhere else with things. And besides, you never struck me as the type to be interested like that, you know?"

"Well, you have that girl Beth you live with and you guys always seemed really serious, I was never really sure so I figured, you know...shot in the dark."

"Beth's probably my very best friend in the world after Matt," Jeff said, smiling a little. "And we've agreed if we ever want kids we'll have them together. We're pretty much camouflage for each other, though. Her parents are really hard on her to settle in and stuff so it gives us both a good benefit to live together and stuff. Plus she takes care of the place while I'm gone."

"Sounds like a good deal. Maybe I need to get one of those. But I'm glad I asked you, too. So far this is a pretty good time."

They chatted a little longer, snacking on the appetizers and sipping at the wine, only stopping when Rolando came in with their meals, setting them down, checking on their drinks, reminding them of his immediate availability should they need him, and immediately making his leave again.

"Wow, that steak actually looks really good. I've never ordered the red meat here," Morrison said, as Jeff started cutting at the slab of meat, leaving the side dish of a baked potato aside for the moment.

"Your thing looks good too," Jeff said, gesturing to the plate with four vaguely pie-like tarts and side dish of a fruit and nut salad. "Kind of...interesting."

"Wanna share? We can each try half."

"Sure," Jeff said, offering a part of his steak and half the potato, and Morrison forked over two of the tarts, though Jeff waved off an offer of the salad. "That's okay, that part looks a little bit squirrel food to me."

"Again, don't knock it till you try it." Morrison cut a piece of one of the quiche tarts and put it into his mouth, almost purring as he ate. "Oh God, these things are better every time I come here."

Jeff cut into one of the pieces as well, nibbling it a moment, then grinning, popping the rest into his mouth. "This is pretty good. Glad I decided not to fight you on coming here."

"The steak is good too," Morrison added. "Almost no fat, cooked perfect medium rare..."

"I like this place. We'll have to come back here again sometime."

Morrison smiled, and they continued to talk and eat...books, movies, their coworkers, stories from the past, whatever came to mind. It was a fairly easy conversation, although Morrison regularly found himself amused by the bizarre leaps in subject Jeff could occasionally make and was aware that Jeff seemed equally amused by Morrison's unhidden shock at a few stories from the past.

Morrison had asked Jeff out merely as a way to explore what could be there. At work, there were always distractions and other people around, places to rush to, fights breaking out, at the best of times, it was chaotic and they all had their guard up. Here, though, with just the two of them, shields down, Morrison was fast becoming aware that there was quite a bit to explore. Jeff was very...for lack of a more flamboyant word, he was quixotic. Morrison knew Jeff was at least a couple of years older than him, and with more worldly experience so far as the wrestling world went. And yet at the same time, there was a sort of charming innocence to him that made him seem years younger, from the unabashed way he enjoyed his meal, regularly stopping mid-sentence to savor another bite or entreat Morrison to taste the same thing he'd already tasted several times to the enthusiasm he had for sharing his point of view about everything, including things that practically no one could have any enthusiasm for. Even stories that should have been boring, Jeff recounted them with such a zeal that made it impossible not to be entertained and simultaneously enchanted by it.

Even when things started to go a little bad, Morrison found himself so fascinated that he didn't notice it at first. The conversation was still going...he was actually doing more of the talking than Jeff at that point so the silence didn't seem unusual. But he gradually noticed that Jeff's verve had waned. He was still nibbling at the food, and he nodded and smiled, but the smile dropped off his face more often than not, and he put a hand to his stomach several times, leaning forward ever so faintly. It was a rather abrupt thing when Morrison noticed.

"Hey, man, are you all right?" he asked, setting his fork down.

"Just a little much wine, I think," Jeff said, smiling reassuringly and holding up a hand. "What were you saying about Shelton's underwear and the freezer?"

"I don't know, Jeff, you kinda look a little pale. You sure you're okay?"

Jeff winced a little. "Kind of a little stomachache, actually. I probably just ate too fast, it's nothing serious." Jeff prodded at the plate. "What's in this quiche stuff, anyway?"

"Oh, it's...well, most quiche is basically like an omelette pie, actually," Morrison said, chuckling. "Eggs, cheese, some other stuff in different places, depending on their..."

Jeff's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Eggs?"

"Yeah, usually. Why?"

"Oh crap. Um, where's the bathroom in here?"

"What? Uh, back there, wh-?"

As soon as Jeff turned and caught sight of the bathroom, he was up in a flash, almost knocking over his chair in his rush, running back and pushing through the door quickly, letting it swing closed behind him, even as Morrison stood, baffled, trying to figure out what had just happened. He looked over at the door out into the rest of the restaurant, back at the bathroom door, then made his way in that direction, getting to the door and pushing it open. "Jeff?"

One of the stalls was pulled shut, and Morrison heard a retching sound from behind it, and could see Jeff's brilliant white shoes under the stall walls, apparently from his kneeling on the floor.

"Oh God, Jeff, are you okay?" Morrison asked, moving to push the door open, looking in, making a face as he was able to push the stall door open just in time to see Jeff hurl again. Some of his hair had slipped out of the wild bun it had been in, and out of instinct more than anything, Morrison stepped in and brushed it back, pulling it out of the way and using the rubber band already in Jeff's hair to pull it back again as Jeff puked once more.

"Ughh...okay...m'okay..." Jeff muttered softly, keeping his face down.

"What happened? Are you all right? Do I need to go kick the chef's ass?"

"No, no..." Jeff burped once, wincing and lowering his head, wincing a moment, then raised his head again. "I probably shoulda mentioned bein' a little bit 'lergic to eggs..."

"Allergic? Oh God, do we need to go to the emergency room?"

"No, no, not...blegh...not like that...they won't kill me. Just...ugh." Jeff raised his head, wiping at his hair, eyes squeezed shut. "It's just if I eat them prepared the wrong way or too many or...you know...I kinda get throwy-uppy."

Morrison winced, a vague sense of mortification rising up in a blush on his face as Jeff hung his head over the toilet bowl again. "Oh my God, Jeff, I am so sorry...I had no idea, I would never have let you eat that if-,"

Jeff chuckled faintly, though it was cut short by another clench from his stomach and a grunt of disgust. "I didn't think you would have, Johnny...no...no foul...it's all good man...I shoulda told you..."

"I should've asked, I mean, shit, asking about food allergies before you go anywhere is like a major etiquette rule, isn't it?"

Jeff slowly started to get to his feet, a hand on his stomach. "Johnny, don't worry, don't worry...I'm okay, once that part is oh God-!" Jeff immediately dropped to his knees, gagging a couple of times, and Morrison went to grab his hair and keep it pulled back again.

"Okay...come on, I think I better take you back to the hotel..." Morrison said, cringing a little. "I'll just...go pay and we can...yeah." Morrison hesitated, looking back and forth, but finally stayed with Jeff until he was back on his feet, only then leading him out, tossing a few bills onto the table and getting Jeff back into the car, cursing his stupidity the entire while.

( )

"I'm really okay," Jeff was saying, as Morrison unlocked the door to room 313 and guided him inside, taking him over to the bed and sitting him on it. "Really, once I'm finished throwing up, that's all that happens." He took a gulp from a bottle of water Morrison had insisted on fetching for him out of the soda machines downstairs, looking slightly bemused by the entire situation.

"I know, but there's nothing comfortable about puking, you at least should rest a little bit..." Morrison was raking his hand a little angrily through his hair, almost running over to the bathroom and opening it, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it in the sink and an empty plastic cup, bringing them back and offering them to Jeff, then instead reaching down himself and wiping at Jeff's face with the cloth, trying to clean him up a little as Jeff rinsed his mouth a few times and spit into the cup. "I really am so sorry, I wouldn't have...I shouldn't have done that..."

"Johnny, Johnny..." Jeff put aside the cup and bottle and reached up, catching the wrist of the hand holding the washcloth, chuckling a little. "Calm down. I've told you, I'm okay. I'm not gonna die or anything, I'm not hurting, I don't even feel icky anymore. I'm fine, really. You don't have to worry."

Morrison studied him a moment, then let out a sigh, turning and sitting next to him on the bed, hanging his head slightly. Jeff patted his shoulder a little as he spoke. "This is probably the worst first date you've ever been on, huh?"

"Like I said, I haven't been on a lot of first dates. But no, actually..." Jeff smiled some. "I'm having a good time, I promise."

"You don't gotta lie to make me feel better."

"M'not lying, Johnny, promise. It's kinda cute watching you get all freaked out over this. It's really not a big deal. We both slipped up, it's okay, it won't ever happen again." He rested his hand on Morrison's shoulder. "And not because I'm not gonna never go out with you again. 'Cuz if you want to, I'd love to go with you back out to the movies sometime, since I don't think we're gonna make it tonight."

Morrison looked over at him, silent, eyes wide, then spoke in a slightly bewildered voice. "Really?"

"Believe me, Johnny, it's gonna take more than eggs to scare me off."

Morrison smiled faintly, the two of them just staring at each other a moment, then Morrison cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his feet. "Right, well. I guess I should walk you back up to your room, let you get some rest..."

"We don't have to go up there just yet," Jeff said, smiling vaguely. "Matt doesn't expect us back for a couple of hours yet. And he'll ask a lot of questions if we come back way early."

"Oh. Um, okay...so, uh...what do you wanna do?"

"Well, we could rent a movie in here, or just talk or...you know..." Jeff leaned in a little, grinning. "We can find something fun to do."

Morrison nodded a moment, raising his head, starting to say something else, but as soon as his head was up, Jeff abruptly pushed in, pressing his lips to Morrison's, one hand going to the back of his head, clutching lightly at the dark brown hair. Morrison grunted for a second, eyes wide, but almost immediately leaned into it, pushing his arms around Jeff's waist and pulling him in, nipping at Jeff's lip slightly, then pulling back, staring him in the eyes.

"That wasn't too much, was it?" Jeff asked, chewing his lip slightly.

"No, no...I don't think it was," Morrison replied, shaking his head. "What about you?"

"I think it was fine if you think it was fine. It was fine?"

"I, I...it seemed fine to me."

"So I guess it was fine." Jeff nodded firmly. "It was absolutely fine."

They sat in silence for a moment, then both burst into laughter, Jeff falling back against the bed and Morrison leaning over, shaking his head and slapping his hands on both knees, "Oh geez," he said between peals of giggles. "Oh man, we suck so hard at this dating shit."

"God, yes. What have we managed to do right?" Jeff sat back up, brushing loose hair back out of his face.

"We got to the restaurant in one piece...I think that was the end of the good part..."

Jeff chuckled, shaking his head, reaching up to pull his hair out of the bun and shake it out, rubbing his hands through it to fluff it out a bit. "Matt lectured me all day about how I needed to dress up and be neat and whatever else for a nice date and I've just been...ugh." He grabbed at the black turtleneck and pulled it off, leaving him in only a black sleeveless undershirt. "No offense, but I can't do even that much dress-up for too long."

"I think we went a little too far away from our comfort zones for this," Morrison said. "I was just trying to make things nice, though..."

"They were nice," Jeff said, patting his leg. "Just probably not very, you know, us. Next time we go, we'll do something that sounds like a good time to both of us."

Morrison looked over at Jeff, and immediately started grinning, a playful but still somewhat lecherous look coming across his face. "No reason we can't do something that sounds good to both of us right now."

Jeff looked back at him, looking confused for a second, but then he started grinning back, leaning in a little. "Yeah...I think we could fill up a couple hours after all..."