A/N: Inspired by a prompt on Tumblr, where a serial killer and a writer end up getting set up on a date, but I replaced the dating app with a mutual friend. It won't be as humorous as the prompt implies, though, because I'm not funny. So get ready for drama and some of your faves dying.
Blanche = nyo!Cameroon and Malai = nyo!Thailand
Ivan couldn't believe he'd let Yao talk him into this. He hadn't been on a date since before burning his savings by attending grad school.
As Kateryna mussed his hair while Natalya tossed aside bottles of cologne testers after sniffing them.
"Is your nose broken?" Natalya muttered, dropping two bottles into the trash. "Oh, don't complain. You got these free, anyway, and why do companies think musk is an attractive smell?"
"I like it," Kateryna murmured, blush dusting her cheeks as she used enough hair spray to harden Ivan's hair into a helmet. "Manon thinks it smells good, too."
Natalya made a sound that could be interpreted as concession; she did it when she disagreed or wanted to continue her point but decided ultimately that she didn't want to put in the energy. It was only an hour ago she'd argued with Kateryna about how a hotdog wasn't a sandwich, and she probably didn't want to get into another stupid fight so soon after.
"That's enough," Ivan coughed, snatching the can of hairspray from his older sister's hands. " More than enough."
He capped the can and set it aside, but when he caught his reflection in the mirror, he paused. Behind him, Kateryna wore a huge grin and crossed her arms over her chest, nearly flat thanks to her binder. After layers of texturizer and hair spray, she'd managed to get Ivan's fine, silvery-blond hair to hold a curl—well, waves. She'd parted it on one side, Kateryna's handiwork keeping the locks pushed up so it was out of his face for once. Ivan's hair looked stylishly messy rather than like an emo skater boy's bedhead, and with it out of his face, his indigo eyes stood out more, looking bright purple in the direct light of the bulbs lining Natalya's vanity mirror.
"This one," said Natalya, holding up a rectangular, black bottle. "Ooh, nice. 'Saloon.' Aww, this is the one I got you off Etsy—and it's still full, how dare you."
"Natalya, Kat already made me flammable—"
Before Ivan could finish, his younger sister sprayed him with the cologne bottle with a sweep, a cloud hitting his neck and jaw. Ivan coughed again but this time more to make a point. Natayla ignored him, however, dropping the small bottle back into the box she'd brought from Ivan's room.
"You're ready," she said as Kateryna tied Ivan's grey silk tie.
Since she wore these things more than Ivan did, she'd taken time to learn different styles and explained she was tying a vidalia knot. Ivan had already tuned her out, though, securing the metal tabs that ran down the front of his grey-and-black corset vest; thin, silver ribbon criss-crossed down the length of his back. He then messed with his D-20 cufflinks, rolling his eyes when Natalya told him to stop being nervous.
"I'm not nervous," he grumbled, more out of a need to disagree than a need to be believed.
"Mm-hmm," Natayla hummed as Kateryna assured him that he'd be fine.
She worked the tie into place and tucked it into Ivan's vest. Natalya handed her Ivan's tie clip, which was designed to resemble the molecular structure of caffeine, Ivan's lifeblood as a full-time writer.
Attempts at being a full-time writer, anyway. He'd only been able to get a few short stories and articles published so far and felt as though he were miles from his goal of being a well-known crime fiction novelist.
Not tonight , Ivan told his anxiety.
Even if he wasn't as successful as he thought he should be at twenty-eight, he still had value. Or, at least, that's what his therapist, Dr. Romano Vargas, had been trying to make him tell himself for the past year.
"Thanks," he finally said, and Kateryna smiled again.
"What's his name again?" Natalya asked as Kateryna said, "Call me to pick you up if you drink too much."
"I will," Ivan promised as he pulled his cellphone out of his back pocket.
He went to Instagram and searched Alfred's username. He clicked on his last post, which was a repost of a picture from three years ago with #lateTBT in the description.
"His name's Alfred Williams. He and Yao met in high school and reconnected when Alfred moved back here." He clicked on the picture Yao had sent him and showed Natalya, raising his eyebrows when she wolf-whistled.
"Mind if Tadas and I borrow him sometime?" she asked innocently, smirking when Ivan's face flashed red as he splattered a "No" while putting his phone away.
The picture was of Alfred back in college, which he attended on a partial scholarship as a competitive swimmer. The picture was from a party after Alfred nearly beat the swimmer from their rival school, losing by only a tenth of a second. He was shirtless with a fist in the air as he was lifted up onto the shoulders of two guys Ivan assumed to be his teammates. One of the guys watched him with obvious attraction.
Tagged in the description were and lutz_xX. Ivan knew that was Mathias Abildgaard, Alfred's ex, who'd commented on the post that he missed those days and everyone—prompting comments below telling Mathias that they missed him too and hoped he was having fun in Denmark. Mathias had moved there to teach English, which was why he and Alfred had ended up breaking up last year.
Ivan understood. He and Louis had broken up for a similar reason four years ago. Louis had managed what few of them could and got a job in his field right after college, moving down to southern California barely a month after getting his diploma.
Kateryna hummed when she looked at the picture, and Ivan quickly pocketed his phone.
"Text me if he's a jerk," she said, and Ivan sighed.
"I will," Ivan said instead of arguing.
He understood Kateryna's reluctance to trust jock guys, even those in the gay community—sometimes especially the ones in the gay community. Those "masc4masc" guys were usually the first ones to make fun of her weight or grab her breasts without consent, waiving away her objections with, "Relax, sweaty, I'm gay. It doesn't mean anything."
"Good luck," said Natalya as she left, returning the colognes she hadn't thrown away to his room upstairs. "Now beat it! I have my own date to get ready for!"
Stopping himself from combing his hair back with his fingers, Ivan followed Kateryna out of Natalya's bedroom. "Tadas is such a simp," he called up, "he'll still be at the restaurant until it closes waiting for you."
"He'd probably try to keep it open just for her," Kateryna added, making Ivan laugh as Natalya barked out a sarcastic "Ha-ha!"
It took almost an hour to reach Twinkle City, thanks to some truck driver who didn't know how to drive in the rain shutting down the Five. Thankfully, Ivan had heeded Kateryna's advice and had left early, so he reached Blue Flower only a few minutes late. There were even some open spots on Davis Street; by the time he'd pulled out his phone and powered up the app, he remembered that parking downtown was free on weekends.
He didn't see Alfred at the bar or tables when he walked in, so Ivan pulled out his phone, stomach twisting into knots. He expected to see a text from Alfred saying he'd changed his mind. He almost didn't open his messaging app.
Swallowing, Ivan stepped aside when a couple, one person wearing a pride flag as a cape, walked in and headed towards the staircase in the back that led to the club upstairs. He finally went to his texts, selecting Alfred's name.
Sorry, running late , he'd sent, and Ivan held his breath as three dots appeared.
Interrogation was changed last-minute, and I didn't want to smell like blood on our date. Feel free to order for both of us. I'm not picky :)
Ivan blinked at the mention of blood before remembering Alfred had mentioned before he had an interview set up for a job at a butcher shop. His stomach unknotted, and he looked up as the hostess if he was waiting on someone.
"I am," he answered, "but he should be here soon. Can I go ahead and look at the menu?"
"Sure!" The tall girl adjusted her wire-framed glasses and smiled brightly. She wore metallic purple lipstick and glittery eyeshadow, and a lotus shape was shaved into the side of her head. "My name's Blanche, and I'll sit you in Malai's section over here, and they'll be right with you."
She led Ivan to a two-seat table not far from the staircase, close enough for him to hear the dance music but not to where it was too distracting.
"Thank you," he said as Blanche pulled out a chair for him and complimented his waistcoat. "It was a gift from my sisters last Christmas."
"That's so sweet!" Blanche's smile was so genuine that it helped put Ivan more at ease. "Well, I'll leave you to Malai, and I'll bring over…?"
"Alfred Williams," Ivan supplied.
"Alfred when he gets here," Blanche continued before skipping off to the entrance to greet a group of people by name as they came inside.
A short person wearing a They/Them button on their apron approached, smiling. They had an undercut, the rest of their midnight hair piled atop their head in a neat bun that had silver chopsticks keeping it in place.
"Know what you'd like to drink?" they asked, voice sounding as though it had recently started cracking. Malai pushed their pink framed glasses up their flat-bridged nose and took out a memo pad and fountain pen.
"A lemon drop for me, please," Ivan answered, looking over the cocktail menu. He thought he remembered either Alfred or Yao telling him before that Alfred usually liked whiskey drinks. "And a John Collins for my date. He should be here in a few minutes."
"Would you like me to hold off on the John Collins until he gets here?" Malai asked after jotting down the drink order. "That way the ice doesn't melt and water it down."
"That sounds good, thank you."
Smiling a bit wider, Malai said, "You'll be fine, hon."
"Thanks." Ivan's smile wavered. "It's just been a while."
"Been there," Malai chuckled. "Took a long break after the guy I was with for almost ten years just, eh, we'll say didn't work out. It can feel like going out for the first time all over again. Anyway, you and the lucky person are in good hands. I'll even see if I can talk Chef into allowing a discount for dessert."
Blinking, Ivan waved his hands in front of him. "Oh, that's really generous; you don't have—"
"It's no problem, sweetie," Malai assured, sticking their pen behind their ear. "I'll be back in a bit with your lemon drop. Do you know what you want to eat now, or do you want to wait for the lucky person?"
"I can order now." Ivan smiled. "He said he was okay with anything."
"Alright!" Malai took their pen from behind their ear again and jotted down notes as Ivan ordered dinner for himself and Alfred. "Sounds good. I'll be back soon with your drink!"
As they headed towards the swinging door that led to the kitchen, Malai asked other patrons if they were enjoying their meals, and they asked one of the couples if they were going to party upstairs when they were done.
"Only if you join us!" one of the girls called, and Malai whirled around in a circle and posed, bowing when a few patrons clapped.
Ivan eased into his chair—much as he could wearing a corset—as he looked around the restaurant. He'd lived on campus of the college only three blocks from here but had never stepped foot into Blue Flowers before tonight.
He'd spent years denying that he was attracted to men. Being bi and raised Orthodox Christian, he'd assumed everyone was attracted to any gender and had to choose to be straight. With the priest and everyone at church proclaiming that being gay was the wrong choice, this had felt like the most logical conclusion. His view didn't start to change until he was in middle school, when he talked to Kateryna after finding out she'd been secretly dating girls.
Unfortunately, the talk had resulted in a fight that had both of them in tears by the end, but if he hadn't seen first-hand how damaging their church's views were to his older sister, he'd probably still struggle with his own attractions. Lord knew he still struggled to accept himself, even without worrying about whether or not he was making the right "choice" in regards to his sexuality.
There was a pang in Ivan's heart at the thought, but it was hard not to smile at the paintings and photographs hanging on the exposed brick walls. The photograph near Ivan's table was of Anita Bryant after a pie had been shoved against her face in a famous zap. Underneath was a laminated card with information about the incident as well as mentions of other zaps done to call attention to queer rights.
Higher and on either side of the photograph were large paintings, both one watercolor and one oil. The watercolor one was done by someone named Marianne Bonnefoy and had a nude man walking tip-toe over water, looking down at a reflection of a woman. The flowers in the foreground were white, pastel blue, or pink.
Malai returned with Ivan's lemon drop and said the food would get started on soon.
As they left again, blowing a kiss to another customer, Ivan heard his phone vibrate against the table.
There was a new text from Alfred: SiL insisted I didn't look ready for a date and is making me sit while she does my hair. She promises it'll take only 5 minutes, which means it'll take at least 10… I'm SOSOSOSOSO sorry!
There were six crying emojis in a row, followed by, I will pay for both our bills as apology. Please wait for me?
He sounded sincere, and Ivan related to the situation, after Kateryna insisted on spending almost twenty minutes on his own hair. Alfred had mentioned when they first started texting yesterday that he lived with his brother, Matthew, and his sister-in-law, Rosa, who were expecting their second child.
I'll still be here , Ivan sent, not wanting to wait too long before responding. He knew if it was him, he'd be staring at his phone's screen, waiting for a reply. I'll take you up on paying for our food, but I insist on paying for our drinks. You also owe me a dance upstairs when we're done.
Alfred's response was almost immediate: Deal.