A/N part 1 ~ If you like this fic, but wanna read something a little more… exciting ;), try my other Jack/Eric fic, called 'Inside The Closet'. Warning: it has a serious R rating for mature themes, but I really like how it turned out!
And thanx again for the reviews. *blush* I'm grateful for every one of them, so please keep them coming! At this point, I'm pretty sure where the story is going, but suggestions are always welcome to give me a different look on things.
*****
Jack gasped at the sight of their living room. Actually, he wasn't even sure whether it was their living room or not.
The room itself was dark, with hundreds of candles all over the place. There was a faint smell of vanilla hanging in the air, and Jack could distinguish some rosebuds spread on the floor. In the middle of the room, space was made for a small table set for two. And behind that table stood Eric. In suit.
Jack almost fainted at the sight of him. It wasn't the first time he had seen Eric in a suit, but this one looked really well on him. It looked a bit… Italian, he thought - pitch-black, with a plain white shirt underneath and no tie. Casual, but very sophisticated, and above all - *very* sexy.
Unlike him. Suddenly, Jack was very aware of his own shabby outfit and he could feel the blood rushing to his face and his heart pounding inside his chest. He had made this horrible scene, cursing Eric and hitting the door, while Eric was setting up all… this. What was he thinking! He felt so ashamed, and all his mixed-up emotions of the moment blocked every word in his throat.
"E-Eric… I… How did you…? When…? And that suit! I-you…" he stuttered.
"Bienvenue chez 'C'est Eric'," Eric said with a grin. "Voulez-vous diner avec moi ce soir?"
Jack's jaw dropped. "F-French? When did you… How…?" He felt incredibly goofy, repeating himself over and over again.
"Well, that's pretty much all I know actually, but I thought it would make a nice impression," Eric replied and looked down at his hands. "Ehm, anyway, what I asked was: 'Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?' And I'm so sorry I kept you waiting for so long. It just took time to prepare all the food and set the table and lit the candles and-"
Jack finally regained consciousness and interrupted him. "Wait a minute - *you're* sorry? *I* should be the one to apologize! If I had known I was waiting for all… this, I would have waited even ten hours if you wanted me to!" Jack exclaimed, and then paused awkwardly. "A-And I would have put on something a little more… appropriate."
Eric rounded the table. "Jack, you're just fine the way you are! Just because I look like-" He took a model pose and produced a low voice. "Bond, James Bond-" Jack chuckled.
"-that doesn't mean you have to do the same, man! I mean, how could you? You didn't even know about all this till just a minute ago!"
"Yeah, but you told me to get ready, right? I should have suspected something by then," Jack replied with a small voice.
Eric smiled. "Jack, I already told you – you are *just* fine the way you are. Now get your ass the hell over here, dinner's starting to get cold!"
Jack – still not feeling totally reassured, but glad that the awkward moment was gone - walked towards the table, carefully avoiding knocking over the candles on the floor. In the mean time, Eric headed over to the kitchen. As Jack sat down, Eric returned carrying a bottle of wine in one hand and two plates with the other.
While Eric put them down, Jack couldn't help but just stare at him. "And where did you learn *that*?" he asked in amazement.
"Learned what?" Eric said, fluently opening the bottle and filling both their glasses with a considerable amount of red wine.
"Well, for instance, carrying two plates with one hand… Or the way you handle that bottle…" Jack looked down at his plate, which was filled with all sorts of colorful food. It smelled absolutely delicious. "Or cooking like this for that matter?"
"Oh, yeah, well… That's surprise number two – I took special cooking classes a while ago. Well, actually it's not really cooking class – they teach you to be a waiter, too. It's more of an etiquette class really… But it was really awesome to do." He put down the bottle and adjusted the table cloth a bit, then picked at an imaginary spot.
Jack sighed. He really had to get this of his chest. "Eric, I'm so sorry I ruined the beginning of this night, and I…" His voice died away, and he fidgeted for a bit with his fork and knife. Dammit!
Why couldn't he he find the right words to say to him? It felt as if there was a big knot inside his throat, keeping his mouth from saying anything that made sense. And he wanted to say so much - he wanted to say how wonderful their apartment looked; he wanted to tell Eric how much he appreciated what he had done tonight. How it could be just perfect… He wanted to tell Eric about the butterflies in his stomach, about that warm feeling each time their eyes met, how he just wanted to shove all that food aside, jump over the table and rip off his clothes right here, right now-
Eric put the cork back on the bottle of wine. "It's no big deal, Jack. Really."
Jack snapped from his fantasy and could feel himself turn red. He just hoped that the candlelight wasn't bright enough to show the tortured look in his eyes. Or his soldier down there for that matter, although safely hidden below the table.
"So… are we going to eat or not?" Jack quickly switched subject, with a smile that felt just a little too plastic. "I'm starving man, and this just looks so delicious!" He enthusiastically poked in the food with his fork, although he wasn't the slightest bit hungry.
Eric cleared his throat and raised his glass. "Ehm… Actually I would like to make a toast first." Jack hastily put down his fork and raised his glass as well. "O-of course," he stuttered.
Eric cleared his throat again. "I would like to say… that I am very happy to know you, and to be your best friend, and-" He paused, raising his glass a little higher. "Anyway. To a wonderful dinner, and let's just hope it isn't another wasted night."
Jack cocked his head and studied Eric's face. What was *that* about? Could it possibly be…? But Eric only showed a slight disappointed look. No.
Jack felt his heart break for the thousandth time since he had allowed his feelings for Eric. It just wasn't mutual. A hard, cold, but true fact. So he had to make the best of it, right?
So he couldn't do anything else but agree as they brought their glasses together. "To not another wasted night."
"Is that English?" Eric said with a dead serious expression, while he sat down at his side of the table.
"I haven't got a clue. You're going to be the teacher here, remember? You should know, man."
"That's *princess* for you, buddy," Eric said with his mouth full, pointing his knife at Jack.
Jack laughed. "You really gotta decide what you want with your life, don't you think? First weatherman, then teacher, cook, princess… Oh, wait, isn't there a school for all that?" Jack pretended to seriously ponder the thought. "Er- No?"
The tension slowly faded, as they both ate their way through the huge amount of food Eric had prepared for them. Although Jack hadn't been hungry, he ate more than usual and complimented Eric with his cooking skills. They made some more small-talk, carefully avoiding subjects that could lead them to deeper things.
Then finally, they ran out of food…
*****
A/N part 2 ~ I'm not happy at all with how this turned out… Actually, I had a much better chapter almost finished, but I accidentally lost it and the second time I tried, this is what came out. *rolls eyes* I know, that sounds weird, but that's the way I write my stories. Forgive me and please be patient! The end is in sight… ;)
And thanx again for the reviews. *blush* I'm grateful for every one of them, so please keep them coming! At this point, I'm pretty sure where the story is going, but suggestions are always welcome to give me a different look on things.
*****
Jack gasped at the sight of their living room. Actually, he wasn't even sure whether it was their living room or not.
The room itself was dark, with hundreds of candles all over the place. There was a faint smell of vanilla hanging in the air, and Jack could distinguish some rosebuds spread on the floor. In the middle of the room, space was made for a small table set for two. And behind that table stood Eric. In suit.
Jack almost fainted at the sight of him. It wasn't the first time he had seen Eric in a suit, but this one looked really well on him. It looked a bit… Italian, he thought - pitch-black, with a plain white shirt underneath and no tie. Casual, but very sophisticated, and above all - *very* sexy.
Unlike him. Suddenly, Jack was very aware of his own shabby outfit and he could feel the blood rushing to his face and his heart pounding inside his chest. He had made this horrible scene, cursing Eric and hitting the door, while Eric was setting up all… this. What was he thinking! He felt so ashamed, and all his mixed-up emotions of the moment blocked every word in his throat.
"E-Eric… I… How did you…? When…? And that suit! I-you…" he stuttered.
"Bienvenue chez 'C'est Eric'," Eric said with a grin. "Voulez-vous diner avec moi ce soir?"
Jack's jaw dropped. "F-French? When did you… How…?" He felt incredibly goofy, repeating himself over and over again.
"Well, that's pretty much all I know actually, but I thought it would make a nice impression," Eric replied and looked down at his hands. "Ehm, anyway, what I asked was: 'Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?' And I'm so sorry I kept you waiting for so long. It just took time to prepare all the food and set the table and lit the candles and-"
Jack finally regained consciousness and interrupted him. "Wait a minute - *you're* sorry? *I* should be the one to apologize! If I had known I was waiting for all… this, I would have waited even ten hours if you wanted me to!" Jack exclaimed, and then paused awkwardly. "A-And I would have put on something a little more… appropriate."
Eric rounded the table. "Jack, you're just fine the way you are! Just because I look like-" He took a model pose and produced a low voice. "Bond, James Bond-" Jack chuckled.
"-that doesn't mean you have to do the same, man! I mean, how could you? You didn't even know about all this till just a minute ago!"
"Yeah, but you told me to get ready, right? I should have suspected something by then," Jack replied with a small voice.
Eric smiled. "Jack, I already told you – you are *just* fine the way you are. Now get your ass the hell over here, dinner's starting to get cold!"
Jack – still not feeling totally reassured, but glad that the awkward moment was gone - walked towards the table, carefully avoiding knocking over the candles on the floor. In the mean time, Eric headed over to the kitchen. As Jack sat down, Eric returned carrying a bottle of wine in one hand and two plates with the other.
While Eric put them down, Jack couldn't help but just stare at him. "And where did you learn *that*?" he asked in amazement.
"Learned what?" Eric said, fluently opening the bottle and filling both their glasses with a considerable amount of red wine.
"Well, for instance, carrying two plates with one hand… Or the way you handle that bottle…" Jack looked down at his plate, which was filled with all sorts of colorful food. It smelled absolutely delicious. "Or cooking like this for that matter?"
"Oh, yeah, well… That's surprise number two – I took special cooking classes a while ago. Well, actually it's not really cooking class – they teach you to be a waiter, too. It's more of an etiquette class really… But it was really awesome to do." He put down the bottle and adjusted the table cloth a bit, then picked at an imaginary spot.
Jack sighed. He really had to get this of his chest. "Eric, I'm so sorry I ruined the beginning of this night, and I…" His voice died away, and he fidgeted for a bit with his fork and knife. Dammit!
Why couldn't he he find the right words to say to him? It felt as if there was a big knot inside his throat, keeping his mouth from saying anything that made sense. And he wanted to say so much - he wanted to say how wonderful their apartment looked; he wanted to tell Eric how much he appreciated what he had done tonight. How it could be just perfect… He wanted to tell Eric about the butterflies in his stomach, about that warm feeling each time their eyes met, how he just wanted to shove all that food aside, jump over the table and rip off his clothes right here, right now-
Eric put the cork back on the bottle of wine. "It's no big deal, Jack. Really."
Jack snapped from his fantasy and could feel himself turn red. He just hoped that the candlelight wasn't bright enough to show the tortured look in his eyes. Or his soldier down there for that matter, although safely hidden below the table.
"So… are we going to eat or not?" Jack quickly switched subject, with a smile that felt just a little too plastic. "I'm starving man, and this just looks so delicious!" He enthusiastically poked in the food with his fork, although he wasn't the slightest bit hungry.
Eric cleared his throat and raised his glass. "Ehm… Actually I would like to make a toast first." Jack hastily put down his fork and raised his glass as well. "O-of course," he stuttered.
Eric cleared his throat again. "I would like to say… that I am very happy to know you, and to be your best friend, and-" He paused, raising his glass a little higher. "Anyway. To a wonderful dinner, and let's just hope it isn't another wasted night."
Jack cocked his head and studied Eric's face. What was *that* about? Could it possibly be…? But Eric only showed a slight disappointed look. No.
Jack felt his heart break for the thousandth time since he had allowed his feelings for Eric. It just wasn't mutual. A hard, cold, but true fact. So he had to make the best of it, right?
So he couldn't do anything else but agree as they brought their glasses together. "To not another wasted night."
"Is that English?" Eric said with a dead serious expression, while he sat down at his side of the table.
"I haven't got a clue. You're going to be the teacher here, remember? You should know, man."
"That's *princess* for you, buddy," Eric said with his mouth full, pointing his knife at Jack.
Jack laughed. "You really gotta decide what you want with your life, don't you think? First weatherman, then teacher, cook, princess… Oh, wait, isn't there a school for all that?" Jack pretended to seriously ponder the thought. "Er- No?"
The tension slowly faded, as they both ate their way through the huge amount of food Eric had prepared for them. Although Jack hadn't been hungry, he ate more than usual and complimented Eric with his cooking skills. They made some more small-talk, carefully avoiding subjects that could lead them to deeper things.
Then finally, they ran out of food…
*****
A/N part 2 ~ I'm not happy at all with how this turned out… Actually, I had a much better chapter almost finished, but I accidentally lost it and the second time I tried, this is what came out. *rolls eyes* I know, that sounds weird, but that's the way I write my stories. Forgive me and please be patient! The end is in sight… ;)