Matthew could not do this.
That was all he knew that Saturday, and he had known it since the very moment he opened his eyes that morning. The moment he remembered what he had to do that night, an indescribable dread tightened around his stomach and sent a shock through his chest. For the entirety of the day, that feeling didn't go away. It lingered like a persistent ghost. Really, he couldn't be sure if he was more anxious or irritated. Saturday was supposed to be the day he could shut himself away, free from worry or fear. Apparently, he would not get that luxury today.
When it got to be eight at night, Matthew's thoughts became nothing but a jumble of possible excuses. This happened more or less every time he was expected to go anywhere. A part of his mind relentlessly demanded that cancel his plans, knowing the relief would feel like rush of fresh air if he did. But Matthew could not do that tonight. He had made this promise to Alfred and to whatever mystery guy that would be waiting there for him, and he had to honor that.
When it got to be quarter to nine, Matthew allowed some of his jitteriness to give way to curiosity. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of person Alfred would think was 'perfect' for him- that was, if he had even met this person before. He had only seen Ludwig in a couple pictures Feliciano had posted online, but Matthew could tell he was pretty reserved just by his appearance. Maybe his brother would have a similar personality. No matter what this guy would end up being like, Matthew could only hope that he didn't make a fool out of himself. His stomach flipped on itself when he realized that was basically inevitable.
When he heard Alfred's car roll out in front of the building, Matthew's heart was palpitating in his ears. This was a terrible idea. This would end in a disaster, as he knew it. He should have canceled, he should have said no to begin with. Why did he do this to himself? Why did he always do this to himself? People like him didn't belong in nightclubs. He belonged at home, alone, away from it all…
Matthew closed his eyes, willing the all too familiar slippery slope of thoughts to leave his mind. Two hours. That was all, and then he could go home. He opened his eyes again, took a long, deep breath, and walked outside. When he got to the car, Alfred was smiling. "You look great, Mattie! Are you ready?"
Matthew looked down at himself. Dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, he hardly thought he looked any different than he usually did. Not to mention that 'ready' was the furthest thing from what he actually felt. He shut the door, buckled his seatbelt and forced himself to lie. "Yeah, I think so," he said. "Where's Arthur?"
"He's going to meet up with us. Mostly because he's not going to spend a minute longer at this place than he has to." Alfred snorted in amusement. "All day he's been going on about how 'uncouth' places like this are, whatever that means. I swear, the man is twenty-five, but he acts about eighty."
Alfred always got this look in his eyes when he spoke about Arthur, whether he was gushing or simply complaining. Matthew had to smile. "And you love it."
"You bet I do. The old man really grew on me." Alfred turned onto the highway and glanced quickly at Matthew, his silly grin only getting more obnoxious. "I think you're really going to like this guy, Mattie!"
Oh yeah, this was a blind date. The nervousness twisting beneath his skin had almost caused Matthew to forget. "Really?" he said flatly. "What makes you think that? Have you even met him, Al?"
Alfred clutched the wheel more tightly, his face blank and unreadable. "Uh…"
Of course. Matthew rolled his eyes. "Do you know his name, at least?"
There was another pause. "Uh…"
It was official. This was going to be a disaster. "Alfred!"
Alfred lifted a hand in resignation. "Hey! This was more Feliciano's idea than mine. He's a good guy; you know that! He wouldn't set you up with a serial killer or something!"
"I would like to think my standards extend beyond 'not a serial killer.'" Matthew tried to say it confidently, but knew that he hardly had any standards to speak of. Carlos had been his one and only relationship, and he had managed to stay far, far away from the dating world since his breakup.
"At least try to have fun." Alfred did not sound frustrated, or even mildly upset. If anything, he sounded desperate. Matthew sighed in defeat.
"Well, if he's not a serial killer, I suppose he can't be that bad."
"There you go, Mattie!" exclaimed Alfred, smiling wildly at the darkened road in front of him. He reeled himself back, and his bright grin faded into a subtler one. "Don't be too nervous, okay?"
Matthew was not sure if he had ever heard a more ridiculous, impossible suggestion. He could still hear his heartbeat in his ears, and he wasn't even at the club yet. He forced himself to continue smiling regardless. "I can certainly try."
"Sweet!"
The rest of the ride passed in mostly silence, occasionally broken by petty conversation. Matthew watched the road roll by, concentrating only on the blurring lines that passed under the glow of the streetlights. He managed to allow his mind to go blank, and it wasn't until Alfred parked in the nightclub's parking lot. The moment the car stopped and the loud, pounding music reached his ears, Matthew felt a sudden lightheadedness. Out of all the places in the world, his blind date had to be here?
Alfred must have noticed. After he opened the door, he reached into the passenger seat and gave Matthew's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Just stick by me," he said. "This guy will love you. If he doesn't, well, the hero will punch his lights out."
It never failed to amuse Matthew that Alfred insisted on calling himself 'the hero.' He'd done it since he discovered Captain America at the age of seven, and the habit never left him. Alfred was a twenty-two year old man still in his superhero phase. Matthew smiled lightly at his musings and opened the door. "Alright. Try not to punch him right away, at least. That won't exactly help my case."
Alfred just laughed, and finally led him inside. Matthew thought the music was loud outside the club, but it was nearly deafening when he reached the inside. Bright, colorful, flashing strobes acted as the only source of light, and he had to grip the hem of Alfred's jacket like a scared child just so he wouldn't get lost or plow into some stranger. By the time they reached the bar, someone ended up plowing straight into him instead of it being the other way around. He couldn't hold back a gasp when the bouncing, smiling brunette wrapped his arms around him.
"Matthew! I haven't seen you in so long, how long has it been, two years? Three? It feels like it's been forever!" He spoke in one breath with no breaks in between his disjointed sentences. It didn't take long for it to register that this man was Feliciano. He hadn't changed a bit since high school.
"Yeah, it's been awhile." When Matthew didn't know what to say, he usually just parroted whatever the other person had said back at them. It wasn't the best way to hold a conversation, but it was better than silence. These were the kinds of things he had grown accustomed to doing for the sake of his own survival.
"It really has! Oh, have you ever met Ludwig? And you need to meet his brother! That's why you came, after all…Ludwig! Luddy, come meet Matthew!"
A blond, stone-faced man appeared beside Feliciano. Like Matthew, he looked to be terribly uncomfortable. The only difference was he didn't look the least bit nervous. Maybe just slightly annoyed. "Pleasure," he said with a stiff nod. "My name is Ludwig, but I believe you figured that out. I understand that you're here to meet Gilbert?"
Matthew froze as he put two and two together. It hadn't taken him long to recognize Ludwig's accent as German, and his brother's name was Gilbert. No, surely this was just an incredible coincidence, surely…
"BIRDIE!"
Matthew's heart nearly stopped beating when he saw a flash of white hair appear in front of him, and not a second later saw a set of piercing red eyes. Yes, this was Gilbert, the same Gilbert that showed up at the bookstore and gave him that ridiculous nickname three minutes after meeting him. He was convinced that if there was a God, he was either giving Matthew a blessing or looking to spite him. And he had no idea which of those options was more accurate. After it all clicked in his mind, he could only whisper. "Oh. Hello." He doubted anyone could hear him over the music.
Gilbert continued to speak immediately. "Wow, this is one hell of a coincidence, isn't it? I have to say, when Ludwig told me I was getting set up I wasn't sure about it, but now that I know it's you, I'm pumped!"
Feliciano smiled even wider than he had been before. "You guys know each other? Alfred! I thought you said they didn't know each other!"
Matthew glanced quickly between the four people around him. They all stood naturally, postures loose, as if they had no trouble being in this kind of environment. Matthew instantly felt like the odd one out. "Well, um, we don't, really…"
Alfred interrupted him. "I had no idea, Feli. That's pretty weird!" He turned to Matthew, an easy, untroubled grin spreading across his face. "Weird, right?"
Weird was an understatement. Before Matthew could think of one thing to say, Alfred shouted something about Arthur being here and shot off in the other direction, leaving him alone with three people he didn't know. This was his worst nightmare. He swallowed thickly, looked into his hands, and pretended to be suddenly fascinated with the buttons on his sleeves. He wanted to run, but he obviously could not do that. He had absolutely nothing in common with these people. What was he supposed to do, start talking about the weather and hope someone would hear him?
Matthew was too lost in his own thoughts to notice his surroundings. He looked up for a brief moment and actually squeaked when he saw that Gilbert had leaned over, mere inches from his face, causing Matthew to nearly jump backwards from shock. At least he had not yelped. Even though it was embarrassing, he was surprised that Gilbert had not already gotten bored and left. "Finally!" He said it like he had accomplished something. "I was starting to think you would never look me in the eye. I think you should get some kind of help, Birdie, because you look like you're about to pass out like, all the time."
That's because Matthew felt as though he was. "Oh." He shrugged, hoping he could brush it off. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry, I was just looking out for your health. Anyway, how about a drink or something? You don't look too comfortable just standing here. Plus, it's boring."
Hopefully that wasn't a reference to Matthew, but he wouldn't doubt it. Regardless, he forced himself to smile. This was a date of sorts, after all, so he might as well act like it. Besides, alcohol sounded like the exact thing he needed. "Okay, a drink sounds good."
"Awesome!"
Matthew had no trouble following Gilbert to the bar. It was nearly impossible to lose sight of him, considering the bright red, plaid bandana around his neck and the way his hair seemed to nearly glow under the black light. Of course, Gilbert did not simply walk through the crowded club. He seemed to walk and dance at the same time, a certain rhythm in his steps that kept in time with the music. Matthew simply shuffled along and tried not to call attention to himself, arms wrapped around his own body, eyes glued to the floor, only glancing up occasionally to make sure Gilbert was still in front of him.
Not only did he walk with such a demanding presence, Gilbert seemed to know just about everyone in the building. During the walk, which only lasted about a minute, he must have high-fived three people and waved to at least five more. It was official- there was no way they had absolutely anything in common. Matthew felt as though he had been shot into a different world. Damn it, Alfred. Where did he even find these people? It was actually a relief when they sat down on the barstools. The bar was in a corner a good distance from the speakers, so they didn't have to shout quite as loudly in order to be heard.
Gilbert sat down with a loud sigh, resting an elbow on the bar. "Alright, Birdie, what'll it be? I'm buying for you, of course. Aren't I a gentleman?"
Matthew rarely drank, so naturally he had no knowledge of liquor. "I'll just have whatever you're having."
Gilbert nodded, then signaled for the bartender. "Feliks! Two of the regular beer!" He turned to Matthew and smirked. "Don't worry. This stuff is awesome."
The short, slim blonde on the other side of the counter nodded. Wait… was that a skirt? "Totally, Gilbert!" Within thirty seconds, Matthew was handed a mug of beer.
"Thank you," he said, then immediately drank from the glass. It wasn't bad. Now that he had the drink the focus his eyes on, he felt comfortable enough to speak. "So, you work here? What do you do?" Asking questions was vital. With any luck, Gilbert would go on about himself and Matthew would hardly have to speak at all.
Gilbert took a long drink, and then slammed the mug against the counter. Matthew half-expected it to shatter. "I'm a DJ!" he said, clapping a hand triumphantly to his chest. "I usually work on Saturdays, but these crazy slave-drivers finally decided that I could have a day off. Maybe this way I can finally develop a social life." He laughed at that, and Matthew had to force a smile. It hit way too close to home.
"And you wanted to go to the place you work on your day off?" asked Matthew. It seemed counterintuitive.
Gilbert shook his head. "Well, no. This wasn't exactly my idea. I would have rather gone to a restaurant or something, but Feliciano thinks my job is the coolest thing ever, which I guess it is, but still," he said with a flippant wave of the hand. "Speaking of which, I really can't believe he even got Ludwig through the doors. My brother couldn't be more different than me. He's an engineer, and he's wanted to be one since he was like, five. Can you believe that? He never wanted to be a pro athlete or an astronaut or whatever, just an engineer. It's kind of sad, really. It's like he's been a grouchy old man since he was born."
Matthew had to laugh at that. "Alfred always says that about Arthur," he said. "They're really different from each other, too. Kind of like Ludwig and Feliciano." Kind of like us.
"Hey, that's not necessarily a bad thing. Ludwig usually has the personality of a drill sergeant, but he turns into pudding when he's around sweet little Feli." He stopped talking abruptly, turned to face the main dance floor, and instantly burst into laughter. "Speak of the devil. Take a look at this, Birdie."
Matthew turned around and nearly choked on his beer. Apparently, Feliciano had somehow gotten Ludwig on the dance floor. Feliciano had taken his hands in what looked like an attempt to get him to dance, and was jumping around in a way that looked like a cross between a seizure and some kind of country line dance. Ludwig was standing almost perfectly still, save for the awkward little sway that looked to be an effort to keep in time with the music. It was almost painful to watch. "Wow," Matthew managed to say through his giggles.
Gilbert watched as Feliciano stopped- well, whatever he was trying to do- to jump up and kiss Ludwig on the cheek. "I swear; they're so cute its downright gross. Everywhere they go, they're known as that couple. I think you know what I mean."
Matthew nodded. He knew what he meant, but that didn't mean he didn't find them charming. His eyes drifted a little further to the side and he couldn't help but laugh again. He lifted a hand and pointed at the spectacle in front of him. "There's mine."
Alfred must have taken lessons from Feliciano, because he had somehow managed to subject Arthur to what he called dancing. Really, it was more that Alfred was gyrating his hips and laughing in a very close proximity to Arthur, who was bright red from either embarrassment or rage and shouting obscenities.
Somewhere along the line, Gilbert had started laughing so hard he was nearly doubled over. "Wow," he said finally. "This is a real freak show, isn't it? Honestly, I love Ludwig, but he's just embarrassing sometimes. I can't believe we're even related. I think you know the feeling."
Matthew nodded again. Alfred was a good brother, but he seemed to be a perpetual teenager. "Yeah." The moment he said it, he began searching frantically for something else to say. The silence was terrible; he needed to say something, anything… "Did you want to do that? I mean…dance, or something?" …And that was just about the worst thing he could have said. Why would he say that? That was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. Still, he didn't want to hold Gilbert back, he didn't want to bore him…
"Nah." Gilbert took another sip of his drink and shrugged. "Unless you wanted to, and no offense, Birdie, but you don't seem like the type." He sounded nonchalant, not irritated. "I have to dance around for the idiots in here more often than I don't. It's nice to just sit down sometimes, you know?"
Powerful relief rushed into Matthew. Maybe this guy wasn't as ridiculous as he thought. Again, he had no choice but to say the first thing that came to mind. "So, you're a DJ. Do you have a DJ name?" It ended up saying much more childish than he had intended. He felt an embarrassed flush bloom on the back of his neck.
Gilbert laughed. "If you're asking if I have some ridiculous stage name like DJ Potato-Master or something, no. I usually just introduce myself as DJ Gil, or if I feel like it, 'Gilbert, the awesome DJ.'" He set down his glass and made a dramatic motion with his hands, as if to actually introduce himself. "DJs usually don't go by stupid names, if they have any dignity. Unless you're Antonio, that is. I think he's working tonight. He calls himself DJ Tomate. Can you believe that?"
Matthew blinked. "Doesn't that mean…tomato?"
Gilbert rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yep, DJ Tomato. It's best to not ask what his logic behind that one was. Francis isn't as bad, I guess, but he's close. He's DJ Amour." Then he turned back around, away from the dancing and lights, leaned against the bar and looked Matthew in the eyes. "As awesome as I am, I didn't exactly come here to talk about myself and my idiot friends all night. Tell me about yourself, Birdie."
"Um…" Matthew quickly adverted his eyes. He couldn't think, much less speak, with those eyes boring into him. As he expected, his mind immediately went blank. He couldn't remember the last time he was asked to speak entirely about himself, and now he was lost. What was there to tell him? Was he supposed to tell him about how he dropped out of college because he couldn't manage it on top of his anxiety, and that he now took classes online so he wouldn't have to deal with anyone else? Was he supposed to explain that he had spent the last ten months holing himself up in his apartment? Was he supposed to go into detail about his mundane job at the bookstore? This was pathetic; how hard was it to come up with a single interesting thing about himself?
Suddenly, Gilbert stood up. Matthew felt his heart leap to this throat and his hands start to shake in his lap. This was a disaster. Of course he was leaving… "Birdie, hey." His words broke Matthew out of his frantic thoughts. He looked up, feeling like he was breathing rocks instead of air. "There you go again, Mattie. You look like you're about to pass out." He sounded legitimately concerned, even though he was still smiling. "I can't say I blame you. This place is too damn loud. I know a place I might be able to hear you better."
Gilbert held out his hand. Without thinking, Matthew took it.
.
"We rent this place out sometimes, but I have special rights and a master key, so here we are."
Gilbert had led Matthew to what seemed to be a private room near the back of the club. It was small, complete with a few couches and one lone table. The music from the main floor could still be heard, but it didn't pound into Matthew's ears like a jackhammer anymore. Gilbert released his hand and collapsed dramatically against the sofa. "God, this is so much better!"
"Yeah, it is." Matthew made his way over and sat down next to him, making sure to leave just enough distance between them. He finally felt as though he could breathe again, even though being alone with Gilbert caused a bit of dizzying nervousness to remain in his system.
"Alright," said Gilbert, clapping his hands together once. "Now that we can talk without hurting ourselves, tell me about yourself."
Matthew cleared his throat. He was prepared this time. "Well, I really like hockey, both playing and watching it. I read a lot, too." He hoped that was a passable response. He decided not to mention that he hadn't been to an actual hockey rink in over a year, because they were just too crowded, and the last time he went he could barely breathe. He continued to speak before he thought about his words. "I'm not terribly interesting, really…"
"Oh, come on. Not everyone can be as awesome as me, but that doesn't mean I expect you to be the most interesting man alive." Gilbert paused, then chuckled as if he was amused by his own thoughts. "This isn't a beer commercial, even though it would be pretty awesome if it was."
Matthew was shocked that he had even heard him. He was so used to his menial statements going unheard. Gilbert's response had been silly and arrogant, but somehow it made him feel a lot more comfortable. He got over his shock; finally got the reference he had made and smiled into his lap. "No. I've never even had Dos Equis."
"You got the reference! But no, honestly, neither have I have. It's not even German, and as a general rule, that means its crap." Gilbert shrugged and changed the subject. "So, hockey, eh? You Canadian?"
"Is it really that obvious?" asked Matthew. He had been told more than once that he was essentially a walking stereotype. He couldn't say that bothered him, either. "I grew up in Canada. I moved here after high school, mostly because Alfred wanted me too." He quickly realized how sad that sounded. Not many people follow their brother around a scared puppy. He immediately took the focus off himself. "And you're German."
Gilbert gasped and brought his hand to his chest in mock horror. "Okay, I'm going to forgive that because we just met. I am Prussian."
Matthew's face went blank. "Prussia hasn't existed for decades."
Gilbert gasped again, yet his smile showed through. "We do not speak about the incident of '47!"
It was surprising that Gilbert knew the exact year Prussia was abolished. The last thing Matthew expected him to be was a history buff. He smiled, amused, and decided to play along. "Is Ludwig Prussian, too?"
"No! Of course not, Ludwig is just a boring old German. He's not cool enough to be Prussian."
This was just about as endearing as it was confusing. "How does that work? He's your brother."
"It's better not to question it." Gilbert leaned further back against the cushions and grinned. "Now tell me, are all those Canadian stereotypes true?"
Matthew rolled his eyes, though he couldn't say he wasn't amused. "Yes, completely. We all own polar bears; bathe in maple syrup, and apologize a minimum of three times an hour. It's actually a law."
Gilbert's eyes went wide. "Seriously?"
"Kidding." Matthew stifled another laugh, and quickly realized something he never expected to happen: he was having a good time. Gilbert was surprisingly easy to talk to, and on top of that, he listened. Matthew couldn't count the number of times Carlos had cut him off mid-sentence. He pushed his ex out of his mind when he realized that he wanted to know more about this self-proclaimed Prussian DJ. "I think it's your turn to talk about yourself."
Gilbert crossed his arms over his chest. "You're a sneaky one, Birdie. I said no more talking about myself. Oh well. I guess you just can't contain yourself. No one can." He spoke almost as though he were laughing. "As you know, I'm a DJ. Other than that, I really like birds, I have a history degree, and I enjoy my alone time."
That wasn't the description Matthew had expected, not at all. "You seem like a people person," he said. After all, Gilbert seemed to know just about everyone.
"I am, to some extent. That doesn't mean I have to be around people every second of everyday. I mean, really, how can anyone do that?"
Matthew had never thought about it that way. In an instant, he felt less self-conscious about his own lifestyle. Now that he knew he and Gilbert actually did have something in common, he only wanted to know more. Maybe Alfred had done something right after all. "Funny that you have a history degree and like to be alone, yet you decided to become a DJ."
"Yeah, well, life can be weird sometimes. I like music and clubbing, too, so I thought this would be a fun thing to do while I'm young. It's not like I'm going to be up there spinning records when I'm fifty." He glanced towards the door, where the strobe lights were peaking out under the door. "To tell you the truth, it gets old."
Matthew didn't doubt that for a second. Before he could speak again, the monotonous, bass-heavy song abruptly switched to something he actually recognized. "Is this…Defying Gravity? Like, from Wicked?"
Gilbert threw his head back and laughed. "Okay, it's official that Antonio is working tonight. It's just like good old tomate to sneak one of these musical theater things in there. He loves them. I'm surprised he hasn't been fired yet, just for being excessively homosexual." He lowered his eyelids and leaned closer to Matthew like he had a secret to tell. "Tell you the truth, I like the play. This is completely Antonio's fault; and you better not tell anyone! It'll ruin me!"
Matthew smiled. How charming. "It's one of my favorites," he said, and then felt his face grow hot. Musicals were somewhat of a guilty pleasure for him.
"Well, in that case." Gilbert suddenly stood up and extended his hand. "Can I have this dance, Birdie?"
Matthew froze. He felt a familiar embarrassment swirl in his chest at the mere suggestion. All he could say was, "I don't really dance."
Gilbert didn't withdrawal his hand. "Well, that makes two of us. What, did you expect me to be a pro?"
Matthew couldn't say he hadn't. "I thought you basically danced for a living."
"That was an exaggeration. I jump around while I play music for a living. Now come on, we're both giant musical dorks, and no one is here to find out. It'll be our little secret."
Despite his anxieties, Matthew found himself taking his hand and standing up. Gilbert put his other hand around his waist, and with much hesitance, Matthew brought his own trembling hand to his shoulder. They kept their free hands entwined. As the song continued on in the distance, Matthew allowed himself to take Gilbert's lead. He couldn't be sure what kind of dance it was, or if it was even a dance at all, but somehow, he didn't feel self-conscious following his slow, careful steps. Gilbert pulled him closer as the song went on, and Matthew felt his face grow warmer and his pulse speed up to a pace faster than it had been all night. But this time, it did not bother him.
After about a minute, Gilbert whispered a familiar lyric next to his ear. "I'd sooner buy, defying gravity…" He trailed off, as if singing along had been more instinctive than anything.
Matthew continued the line unthinkingly, whispering it under his breath. "Kiss me goodbye…" He closed his mouth instantly and froze in place. God, why did he have to go and say that? With any luck, Gilbert had not heard.
Gilbert pulled away, just enough so he could look at Matthew, and smirked. He'd heard. Matthew stared back at him with a blank expression, his mouth forming an unspoken 'oh,' suddenly terrified and unsure. What should he do? Did he need to do anything? God, would he mess it up? Surely, the thing he thought was about to happen, the thing a small part of him hoped would happen, was not about to happen.
Gilbert moved his hand from his waist and gently cupped Matthew's chin. He leaned in closer, Matthew forgot how to breathe, and he considered the idea that he might have been wrong. Not sure what else to do, his closed his eyes and waited while his heart pounded almost painfully against his ribs. He had completely forgotten how any of this worked. All he could think about the warmth of Gilbert's skin and the cheesy song filling the spaces around him along with the faint scent of leather and cologne. This was about to happen, this was really about to happen-
But Gilbert only raised his head and pressed a tentative kiss against his forehead. Matthew was not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. "Not on the first date, Birdie. Patience is a virtue." When the last strains of the songs fizzled out and changed to another fast song, Matthew slowly withdrew himself from his firm hold. He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling humiliated and silly over the amount of fluster he was feeling.
When Gilbert spoke again, the unpleasant feeling dissipated. "We'll have to see what happens on the second one."
To be continued...
