Dan slept:

Dan looked at his plate and then back up at Jones' pale, nervous face. They didn't usually go out for dinner, it wasn't really their thing, and it cost money, but it was Jones' birthday, so they'd decided to make the effort. Now Dan thought they probably would have been better off just getting a take-out like usual.

Jones was twitching in his seat - feet tapping, knees jiggling, fingers drumming, tongue flicking out to lick the corner of his mouth, eyes darting about - the complete works. This went far beyond normal fidgeting. Even his general desire to be quiet about their relationship didn't cover this. Dan hated talking about feelings but this was one of those times when it was probably necessary. If he didn't do something soon Jones was going to knock the table over and Dan was actually quite enjoying his spaghetti bolognese and didn't want it to end up on the floor.

"So..." Jones looked up, realised he'd made eye contact, and looked down again, his cheeks going from deathly pale to bright, fever red so fast that Dan wondered for a moment if he was actually just feeling unwell. "What's the problem?"

Jones looked pained and pushed his meatballs around the plate like he was playing a strange game of pasta hockey

"Well," his voice cracked and his blush flared brighter, spreading out to cover his face. "It's my birthday..."

Dan huffed a sigh, Jones wasn't going to make this easy, that much was obvious.

"And?"

"And I'm nineteen, and..."

Jones spoke like he was biting off each piece of the sentence before it could escape and Dan was finding it hard to be patient. He wanted to lean across the table and just kiss the worry off the silly man's face but even without Jones' fear of being Out, and Dan's fear of public intimacy, it just wasn't done. Maybe he should've taken Jones to Soho for the evening, where nobody gave a fuck and two white boys kissing was probably the least seedy thing going down, but he hadn't, which meant that they'd just have to talk it out in low voices like proper, repressed, little British men.

"And..."

"And... and I kind of promised myself that I'd, you know, do... the thing... the... you know... the... sex..."

Dan could see how much it was killing Jones to admit this. They'd done a lot over the last seven months since 'The Kiss' as Jones always called it, in an awed whisper, but Dan hadn't pushed anything. Because really, when it came to having sex with a man, Dan was just as much of a novice. But as uncomfortable as it all was, he couldn't help the chuckle that was building up inside him.

"The sex?"

"Shut up," Jones hissed, stabbing a meatball viciously with his fork. "You know what I mean."

"I have absolutely no idea what you mean," Dan replied, letting the grin creep onto his face. Jones always told him that it was he 'wolf smile' because it was a bit scary but exciting too, and he watched as Jones began to squirm in his seat in a decidedly different manner.

"Dan..."

"No, it's true. I'm clueless. What is 'The Sex'? Is it a new game you kids are playing?"

Jones smiled wide, his eyes closing tight as he attempted to keep the laughter from exploding out and frightening the other diners in the restaurant. His head dipped and his shoulders began to shake and Dan felt his own grin stretch, feeling a ridiculous pride at being able to make the boy laugh.

"Shut up, old man," he giggled through his clenched jaw. "Don't make me clobber you."

"Is that how 'The Sex' is played, is it?"

"Dan!"

Jones snorted and hid his face in his hands as the laugher began to escape. It took several minutes for him to get himself under control, during which Dan ate as much of his pasta as he could fit in his mouth. If Jones decided to freak out in a minute he wanted to get his moneys worth. It wasn't every day that they splashed out and actually ate meat.

Jones finally recovered himself, taking a deep breath and blowing it out carefully before shoveling a forkful of pasta and meatball into his mouth to cover his remaining embarrassment.

"You ok now?"

"Yeah. Fine," Jones mumbled around his dinner, still a shade of red that made Dan feel strangely protective.

"Good, fine. So... sex. That's fine too," he said, trying to said sensible and mature when all he wanted to do was have a fit of giggling hysterics and hide under the table. "What's the problem?"

Jones' smile disappeared like a chalk drawing wiped off a black board.

"You'll think I'm an idiot."

"I never think you're an idiot," Dan replied, feeling a sudden, desperate urge to make sure that Jones understood. "Dense and oblivious and mad as a hatter, but not an idiot."

"Oh, thanks," Jones mumbled, sipping delicately on his coke before a frown struck his features. "I think."

Dan's chuckled again.

"I'm not going to think you're an idiot, whatever you do. What's the sex issue?"

Jones cringed and Dan laughed into his bolognese.

"Shit, Dan, you sound like a parent."

"Don't say that," Dan grinned. "I'm not going to put up with you calling me daddy in bed or any of that nonsense."

Jones' blush was back and he'd pursed his lips in a way that made it very hard for Dan to imagine anything other than how he'd love to kiss those lips open again.

"You're so fucking embarrassing," he whispered without looking up.

"That's the rules, I'm afraid," Dan continued, enjoying how easy it was to wind Jones up when there was nothing he could do to escape. "If we're going to do this then you have to know that we'll be doing it on a formal, surname basis."

Jones snorted again, grinning so hard that he looked like it might actually hurt.

"Oh, Mr Ashcroft!" he said in a voice that was supposed to be silly but just made Dan start to squirm and need to cross his legs.

"Shut it..." he said, feeling himself begin to flush, which only made Jones start giggling. "I said, shut it. We're in a restaurant. Mr Jones."

Jones was giggling so hard now that he was clutching his arms and hugging himself as he tried to be quiet and it filled Dan with the warm and fuzzy, but slightly frightening, feeling that he'd learned to recognise as his love for Jones. He pushed the boy's glass closer to him and after a few careful gulps Jones had himself back in control but seemed nervous about continuing the conversation.

"Sex," he whispered, and Dan took a deep breath to stop himself from being the one to laugh.

"Yes. Is it... is there something you'd..." Dan sighed, he could make Jones laugh but sincerity was not his strong suit.

"It's nothing like that," Jones shook his head hurriedly. "Nothing... kinky," he whispered. "It's just... I wanna have sex, but I'm... scared."

"Oh."

"That it'll hurt."

"Oh." Dan hadn't actually been expecting that.

When Jones closed his eyes now it wasn't from laughter. He could almost feel the shame radiating off the young man and it hurt that he couldn't just pull him into his lap for a hug like he so obviously needed. Dan didn't know a lot about Jones' life before they'd met - he didn't push for information and Jones didn't offer much - but he'd seen the state of Jones' home when they'd first moved in, and noticed how quickly Jones could freeze up when touched unexpectedly. Dan had a degree in English Literature and Creative Writing and he knew how to read clues. He should have guessed that Jones would be scared of sex, but had no idea how to help.

"We should do it anyway," Jones mumbled, back to looking pale and pushing the last of his dinner around the plate until it looked vaguely like a frowny face. "I mean, I'm probably just being stupid. I am stupid and, and..."

Dan looked around quickly before moving his hand across the table to grasp Jones' fingers in a firm grip.

"Is this what you've been worried about?" he asked, trying to sound gentle but worried that he just sounded sleepy. "Is this why you've been white as milk all evening and twitching like a rabbit?"

"I just don't want... to disappoint you? And I wanna do it but... I'm really scared."

He sounded too young, and it made Dan uncomfortable but he couldn't push Jones away. This was too important.

"Jones," he said, trying to keep his voice low but wanting the younger man to look at him properly. "You don't have to be scared. We don't need to do anything more than we're doing now."

At that Jones did look up and Dan could see the confusion in his pale eyes.

"But what about... sex?"

"What about it? What we do is sex," Dan told him, trying to sound more confident than he felt, for Jones' sake. "We get each other off, we have fun. You don't have to go sticking anything up anywhere you don't want to."

Jones scrunched his nose at that and Dan had to laugh because no matter what horrors Jones had witnessed, he never managed to lose the innocence that made him so undeniably lovable.

"Besides," Dan went on, leaning in and waggling his eyebrows for extra effect. "What makes you think that just because I'm older and bigger and hairier than you that I might not want to be... the one underneath?"

Jones' blush was back, starting at his neck and spreading so fast up his face to his hairline that Dan could see it moving, brighter than the red streaks in his hair. Jones eyes were comically wide, like a stunned cartoon character, and he'd stopped fidgeting completely.

Dan shoved the last of his spaghetti into his mouth and went to pay the bill before Jones had a chance to recover. They were going to do this and hew as going to show Jones that they were ok and that there was no need to be afraid. Because they loved each other and because he trusted Jones.

Now he just had to calm his own nerves. He was certainly in for a night he wouldn't forget.