Chapter Two
"How do I look?"
Marth glanced up from the newspaper he had been skimming as he lay comfortably on the couch in Cain's tiny apartment. "Where are you taking him, again?"
"That little Italian place off of 4th Street, it's pretty casual." Cain shrugged his shoulders and then quickly straightened his jacket.
"So… You're wearing a tuxedo?" The amusement in his voice was obvious.
Cain threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Well, dammit Marth, I've never been on a date before where I actually wanted to impress someone."
"Take that off, you look like a dork." Marth set the papers down and stood up. He reached out to ruffle up Cain's greasy hair, and effectively covered his hand in what was about a half-bottle worth of gel. "Gross. Take another shower, preferably not entirely in aftershave this time. I'll pick you something decent to wear. Hurry, though."
Cain smiled sheepishly. "Where would I be without you?"
"Still here at 7:30 when your date starts," Marth answered with a roll of his eyes, but he returned the smile.
As Cain stepped back into the bathroom, Marth opened the door to the closet where any decent clothes should be hanging, and then immediately closed it; Cain was the type of guy that would hang up his hoodies and try to fold a dress shirt. Walking over to the dresser, he yanked open the top drawer. He thumbed through a couple of t-shirts before finding a slightly crumpled button-down at the bottom of the pile. Pulling it out, he shook it out in the air to straighten it. Surprisingly, it wasn't badly wrinkled, despite obviously being shoved in the dresser without care.
Tossing it on the couch for Cain to see when he got out, Marth moved to the second drawer of the small dresser. Even a nice pair of jeans would do, and he groaned internally as he saw the options. Eventually he found a decent-looking pair, and he threw it over his shoulder to land on the couch next to the shirt. Closing the middle drawer, he hesitated for a moment. Wondering if there would be any better options in the lowest drawer, he knelt down on one knee to open it to investigate.
All he found was a poorly folded blanket, and he frowned. He lifted it up to see if there was anything underneath it, and realized it was clunky, as if it was wrapped around something. Frowning, he slowly unraveled it, and his breath caught in his throat as he realized what it was. The ghost of a gun lay hidden in the blanket; it was obviously missing some parts and was most likely unusable, but the shell clearly gave away what it was.
Marth scowled, silently cursing Cain's stubbornness. Any type of firearm had been illegal in the country for years, in a surprisingly successful attempt to stop the rampant violence; manufacturing one was unthinkable and obtaining one was all but impossible. But here, in Cain's small studio apartment, was the shell of one of the deadliest guns to ever be used. Even worse, Marth recognized the gun, and knew exactly where Cain had gotten it. To think, he had kept it, even after what had happened, even with such a risk…
The blue-haired man slammed the drawer shut as he heard the water in the shower turn off. Now wasn't the time to confront Cain, and he didn't want Cain to know that he had found it. With a sigh, he knocked on the bathroom door with his fist. "Don't put anything in your hair," he yelled.
The response was a loud groan and the sound of water turning back on.
Cain glanced at his watch as he jogged towards the front of the small restaurant where he was supposed to have met with Abel ten minutes ago. He easily weaved through the crowded sidewalk, earning strange looks from passer-byers. It would have been faster to drive, but finding a spot to park on a Friday in the crowded area would have taken longer than if he had leisurely walked all the way there.
Finally reaching the entrance, he paused to catch his breath. Opening the door to the restaurant, he nodded a polite hello to the hostess before glancing around the crowded area. He spotted Abel in a small booth near the back, and casually slid into the seat.
Abel glanced up when he felt the booth gently shake as Cain sat, then smiled and straightened his posture. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten."
"Forget? No way," Cain laughed. I haven't been able to think of anything except this all afternoon, but it would probably be weird to say that, he thought. It's just a date, calm down. He could faintly smell the scent of Abel's cologne, and the way his soft-looking hair fell showed simple but elegant care. Cain wondered if the green-haired man was nervous as well; if he was, he was doing a fantastic job of hiding it.
They chatted for a while, and the conversation flowed easily. Although he'd started off rather stiff, Cain began to relax the more they talked, and he was so absorbed in their conversation that he almost didn't notice the presence of someone standing next to their table.
"Ohmigosh. Cain? What a coincidence!" The loud, familiar voice yanked Cain out of his little date bubble, and he felt his heart sink. Oh Gods. Not now.
"Hey, Catria," he forced a weak smile, looking up to see the blue-haired woman hovering over them.
Without an invitation, she plopped onto the booth next to Cain, pushing him over with her shoulder to make more room. "How have you been?" She gushed.
"Catria, it's nice to see you, but I'm uh… Well, a bit busy at the moment," Cain rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, casting an apologetic glance towards Abel.
Catria followed his gaze and finally seemed to notice Abel's presence. "Oh!" She burst out. "Hey, I know you! You're, what was it, Aiden, right?"
"Abel," he corrected her flatly.
Cain looked between them in confusion. He had dated Catria a couple years back, but not for very long. It was obvious that she'd never really gotten over him, and always tended to linger whenever they ran into each other. He was about to ask how they knew each other when Catria began to speak again.
"That's right!" She squeaked. "You're the one Est had that big crush on! Whatever happened between you two, anyway?" She winked at him.
"She got mad and left when I told her that her hair was straighter than me."
Cain couldn't stifle his laughter in time, and he earned himself a harsh glare from Catria. She looked back and forth between them, and finally seemed to understand what she had intruded on. "Ohmigosh, you guys are on a date! Remember our first date, Cain?" She nudged him on the arm.
"Catria, please," Cain felt his face going red. "Don't do this to me."
"I'd like to hear about it," Abel joined in, an amused smirk on his face.
"We went to the lake, it was so romantic," the blue-haired chatterbox continued. "At least it was, until this big lug started panicking. And I was like, Cain what's wrong? And he was like, Oh my God, that's a duck. A duck!" She laughed loudly and punched Cain on the arm. "We had to leave because there was a cute little family of ducks and someone kept insisting they were coming closer."
Cain covered his reddening face with his hands, completely mortified.
"Ducks?" Abel couldn't hide his amusement.
"Ducks, man… They're creepy, right?" Cain tried to laugh off his embarrassment.
Catria laughed at Cain's expense for a moment longer. "I should go see how Palla's doing," she said eventually. "She's finally seeing someone. Do you know how hard it is to find a date for an asexual? The guy seems alright, but we'll see. Anyway, it was so good to see you, Cain!" She leaned in to give him a smack on the cheek, and he leaned away, not-so-subtly avoiding her smooch. She made a frustrated noise and punched him on the shoulder again instead, before sliding out of out of the booth and dashing off to ruin someone else's dinner. "I'll be right back after checking on Palla!" She called the words over her shoulder.
Perish the thought. Cain's face still matched the redness of his hair. "What a disaster," he mumbled to himself, glancing upwards to see how Abel was reacting.
To his surprise, Abel appeared to be having trouble stifling laughter, and he hid a smile behind his hand. "They're an interesting bunch, aren't they?" Cain's dejected nod sparked more laughter. "Why don't we get out of here before she comes back?"
"Please," Cain accepted his offer immediately. He pulled out his wallet and tucked some money underneath one of the empty plates before standing to leave.
He held the door open for Abel as they stepped into the warm summer night. The time had passed quickly; Cain hadn't realized how late it was, and the sky was dark. The nearly empty streets were a far cry from the rush from earlier, and the silent atmosphere was a pleasant change from the busy restaurant noise.
Cain smoothed out his shirt that had rumpled slightly from sitting. For the first time that night, there was an awkward silence between them, as they both hovered without knowing what to say. The redhead was reluctant to go, and he silently cursed Catria for cutting their date short. "This was fun," he said finally, but he couldn't keep the disappointment out of his voice.
Abel angled his body towards Cain and smiled. "You don't have to go so soon." He had picked up on the redhead's lingering tone. "Would you like to visit for some tea?"
"Yeah, that'd be great," Cain grinned, eager for the opportunity to spend more time with Abel.
They walked to Abel's nearby apartment without making much conversation. This time there was no awkward atmosphere, as the monotonous night sounds filled the air.
Abel opened the door to his flat, and Cain looked around in awe as he stepped in. The simplicity of it was astonishing, and it was a lot more modern than his own tiny studio apartment. The living room was spotless, and Cain felt a twinge of embarrassment as he remembered the disastrous state he had left his home in before racing out for the evening.
"Make yourself at home," the green-haired man said as he quietly shut the door. As Cain sat on one of the loveseats that surrounded a small coffee table, Abel made long strides towards the kitchen. "How do you like your tea?"
"Surprise me," Cain answered, and Abel chuckled and shrugged.
The redhead leaned back on the couch, and settled his arm on top of the armrest; it was soft. He felt a small vibration in his pocket, and pulled out his mobile to see that Marth had sent him a text. Glancing up, he made sure Abel was still busy before checking his phone.
"hows it going? is he a serial killer or nah"
"its great, he's making tea"
"making tea? where are u"
"in his apartment"
"getting that D?"
Cain stared at his phone for a moment. As if realizing for the first time what had actually happened, he felt a blush rise to his face. He had accepted an invitation to Abel's apartment without really thinking about what it implied. Before he could respond to Marth's text, Abel stepped into the living room with two cups in his hands. Cain slipped the phone back into his pocket, hoping that his face wasn't as red as it felt.
Abel handed him the cup and he took it with a quick nod of thanks. To his surprise, Abel sat next to him on the loveseat instead of across on the other couch; it was a small couch, and their shoulders were nearly touching.
Not minding the closeness at all, Cain raised the teacup to his lips and took a small sip. His eyes widened at the taste. "Wow, this is great," he complimented Abel. The tea was warm, and had just enough additions to make it slightly sweet.
"'A good meal means nothing without a good drink'," Abel quoted sarcastically. "Or, so I'm taught. Honestly, I think you can wash down anything with water. My real specialty is with food."
"Oh yeah, you're a chef, aren't you?" Cain remembered.
"That's right." The green-haired man nodded and took a sip of his tea. "With all the taste-testing, you'd think I'd be chubbier."
Cain grinned. "See, I can carry and deliver eight dishes on my arms with ease, but the moment you let me touch an ingredient, it turns inedible. You're talking to the guy that can burn pasta—actually burn it, until the edges are black. I didn't even know that was possible!"
They laughed together loudly, and continued to talk, even long after their teacups were empty. After a while, Cain noticed that Abel's words in their quiet conversation had begun to slow. Feeling a sudden weight on his shoulder, he realized that Abel was leaning against him. Eventually, the replies stopped coming, and Cain could tell by the steady chest movements that Abel had fallen asleep. His heart pounded as he looked down at the green-haired man's resting face, and he felt a bit embarrassed to think that it was quite adorable. Glancing at his watch, he was shocked to see that it was nearly 2 in the morning.
His own eyes were feeling a bit droopy. I'll only rest my eyes for a few minutes, he promised himself, knowing full well it was a lie. Then I'll wake Abel and leave.
The next thing Cain knew, he was blinking himself awake as light shined in on his face from the window. Disoriented, his body was stiff, and he forgot for a moment where he was. What had happened? He remember Abel bringing out the tea, they were talking, and then… They must have stayed up so late that they just collapsed on the couch.
During the night he had sprawled out across the whole couch, and Abel was laying on top of him. He had his arms wrapped around Cain's torso, and he was using the redhead's chest as a pillow.
"Abel, wake up," Cain murmured, gently shaking the green-haired man's shoulder. "It's morning."
"Mmph." Abel made an incoherent noise, but didn't move.
Cain couldn't help but smile. He was about to gently lift Abel so he could sit up when he felt a long vibration in his pocket. Wondering who the hell would be calling him this early, he reached down to answer.
"Hello?" He mumbled sleepily, holding the phone to his ear with one hand and using the other one to play with Abel's messy hair.
"Cain? Where the hell are you?" It was Marth, sounding worried.
"I'm still with Abel," the redhead responded, keeping his voice down. "What's wrong?"
"Don't go home. There's guys outside your building again."
The smile faded from his face. "How many?"
"Listen, Cain, just wait it out. Trust me on this, okay?"
"… Okay." Something in Marth's voice made it clear to Cain that he shouldn't argue, and he reluctantly agreed.
As the phone clicked off, Abel stirred. "Oh, sorry, I must have drifted off." He covered his mouth to hide a wide yawn. "What time is it?" He asked groggily.
Cain glanced at his watch before answering. "Almost 9AM."
Abel stared at him. "You're kidding," he said finally, but the sunlight seeping in through the window did not lie. As if only just realizing that he was laying on top of Cain, the dark complexion of his cheeks gained a faint red tint, and he sat up quickly.
They were still fully dressed, and not much time passed before they were standing in front of the door. Facing each other, an awkward silence emerged as they both hesitated to say goodbye. Cain felt his heart pounding in his chest as he stole glances downwards towards the other's lips, wanting to lean in, but unsure if he should. Before he could decide, Abel made the first move, and he leaned forward slowly to plant a gentle kiss on Cain's lips.
His confliction disappeared, all he could think of at that moment was how soft Abel's lips felt against his. Too soon, the green-haired man broke away; the redhead leaned forward, craving more, but Abel put a finger to Cain's lips, stopping him.
"Not yet," he teased. "You've got to have something to look forward to for next time, right?" Cain pouted, and Abel let out a short laugh. "Don't give me that sad puppy look… Alright, just one more."