RP: A big date in. Who: Jeremy/Bennie What: A Night In, Jeremy Cooks. When: April 24, 2028 [backdated]. Where: Jeremy’s Flat Warnings: Adult topics but faded out. Completion Status: Complete.
Jeremy hadn’t realized why they were off from filming last Sunday until Bennie had asked for a reschedule. Easter Sunday. It wasn't huge but knowing Bennie’s family was Catholic he knew they’d be together most of the day. He’d used the extra week to plan a light entree and the easiest cocktails he could make at home: Whiskey, Rum, and Vodka. He pulled his bartending set and set it out on the table he usually used for work. It wasn’t perfect but it was operational.
Everything seemed to be moving smoothly, he wanted it to be easy. His alarm chimed and he dashed back into his bedroom, changing into a pair of nice pants and a clean button down. He unlocked the door and waited for her to arrive. Bennie had worn her ‘sexiest’ sundress, heeding the advice of her girlfriends. She was determined for tonight to go well, and she hoped against hope that Jeremy was on the same page as her.
When she arrived, she stepped through the floo and brushed the soot off her shoulders and smiled wide, “Hey handsome,” she greeted him, feeling warm and nervous and full of love. She hadn’t told him she loved him, but she was sure of it, even if a small part of her worried maybe she was just in lust instead of love. But here she was, ready to act on either feeling, either way. “Hello beautiful,” he crossed to the floo and kissed her on the lips. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “You look gorgeous.” He pulled back. “It’s a bit modest for a personal chef and mixology station, but I can make you any cocktail you want.” He didn’t quite want to let her go he realized with his arm around her waist.
Moving to the bar corner, he cleared his throat. “What can I get you?” “Stole my line,” she said with a quirk of her eyebrow after he kissed her. When he showed her the ‘bar’, she delighted to see mint. “Un mojito, por favor?” It was a favorite from her time in Miami, even if her parents and grandparents always made sure to know that the cocktail was way better back home in Playa Girón, Cuba. It was also an easy enough cocktail, so she assumed pretty much anyone knew how to make one. Luckily, it looked like the rum he’d chosen was a white.
“Can I buy the hot bartender a drink?” She asked with a cheeky grin, watching him work. She loved his forearms - all corded, lean muscle and tender strength right down to his long fingers. Oh, his hands did things to her, too, all the time. She had to watch him work, when she wasn’t filming, and she had to be in scenes with him, and pretend that she wasn’t completely consumed by him. She was a better actress than she’d known. He put a little extra flourish on his moves that wouldn’t work behind the small bar at the Leaky Cauldron. It was a show and he wanted to show off for her. “If you don’t mind the bartender making his own drink.”
He had a moment when he finished shaking her cocktail. Looking down at the tins of sugar and salt wondering which she would prefer. In his experience it was a choice left up to the drinker. “Salt or sugar?” He has a feeling she would pick salt. It was traditional and how he assumed her family would have made them. She winked at his response, “I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t even want me to pour a beer,” she answered with a giggle. She’d worked in restaurants before, but as a server, and was hopeless at actually preparing things. Other than some Cuban dishes, of course. “Is there a choice?” She supposed she’d heard of people - in America, at least - doing sugar on the rim of a mojito, but that was just so wrong. “Salt, obviously,” she said with another little giggle. Flirt. Touch. Giggle. Compliment. So reached out and delicately brushed his arm as he prepared the salt rim, with a soft smile to go with the touch.
“Now that it’s been so long, how are you and your cousin still doing as roommates?” She dreamed of getting her own place, but she was pretty sure her family just assumed she wouldn’t do that until she was at least engaged, if not married. Back in Playa Giron - according to her parents and grandparents - it was traditional for whole families to live together, many generations in one home. She knew that wasn’t the case here in England, and certainly not in Miami (the idea was laughable!), but she wasn’t sure which route she would take, as much as she wanted her own space sometimes. “Have you ever had a bartender teach you?” She’d brushed up against his hand when he set the drink in front of her and he hated the space the small set up put between them. She looked insanely hot and he wondered how he lucked into this relationship. She could definitely do better.
Popping the cap off a beer he sat next to her. “He’s been understanding, I guess.” His cousin had made it uncomfortable for him when he asked for the apartment to himself. “I’m trying to save up for my own place. Basically socking away as much as I can.” He thought about buying his cousin out of his half of the flat, but being family it felt wrong. Would he really be able to push his cousin out of his own apartment? No, he would just have to keep saving until he felt comfortable enough to start looking on his own. He reached out, laying a hand on her leg. She raised her eyebrows, “No...” She said, the word drawn out. “I pour beautiful works of coffee art, but the finer points of bartending are not in my wheelhouse,” she said with a little laugh, reaching out to brush his bicep again.
Lighting up she asked, “Your own place?” And then she sipped her mojito and nearly moaned at the cool, refreshing, perfect drink. “Mmmm, you are an artiste,” she complimented him, still feeling wholly out of her element, despite this being Jeremy. She’d known him since they were firsties, been friends just as long, and yet the prospect of how to take their insanely hot make-out sessions to the next level completely baffled her. Maybe he just didn’t see her like that, maybe he didn’t want the next level. Ugh, she hated the insecurity that couldn’t help but creep into her thoughts. “Yeah.” His free hand wringing the nape of his neck. “It’s awesome that I came over and didn’t immediately have to go into debt. Appreciate that a lot about him, but there’s some things that are just difficult to do when you have to tiptoe around a roommate.”
He placed a hand on her thigh. Ever since they talked about it, it was all he could think about. It was odd though. He’d shown up to her parent’s house half naked and soaked, but he had this mental block. His mother had fed him stories of this courtship and dance that his father had given her. It sounded romantic, but it was maddening at the same time.
“It would be nice for once to not have to worry about anyone else existing.” He took a deep drink of his beer. “Yeah, that makes sense,” she could understand the sentiment, even if she couldn’t foresee herself doing the same. “I’ll probably be with my parents far too long,” she admitted with a grimace. She was pretty sure he couldn’t understand, being American through and through, and white American, at that. Bennie’s complexion was very fair, of course, but she was Cuban above any color, and that felt very different.
But then, he explained further and she couldn’t help the soft look she gave him, wondering if he meant things like tonight... things like, sex. He stopped himself from offering her to move in. He’d thought about it as he saved and when he finally found a place, but until he could this was the best he could do. It made him wonder what was holding her back. Outside of Grace she had her own job and more than likely her own accounts. Why couldn’t she?
“Maybe I can let you know when I start looking?” He smiled, trying to show that it was supposed to be encouraging even if she was looking at more years living with her family. “You can always let me know about stuff you’re doing,” she said with a little - more genuine - giggle. That was an odd thing for him to say.
“So, drinks, next is dinner?” She asked, wondering about his cooking skills, if she was honest. Not that she cared either way if he could cook well, but it did make her curious. Her dress rustled around her legs as she stepped back lightly from the bar, taking another look around the flat. The whole place to themselves tonight. Hmmm... Where should they settle in? She bet he was traditional - soft and in bed and thoughtful - and that wasn’t a bad thing in her book. Especially for her first time. Goodness, her first time. She was infinitely grateful that they’d talked about their pasts already, and been friends for so long before they dated, because it took the awkwardness out of that. He knew she was a virgin, so she didn’t have to worry about stopping in the middle of anything to confess - that thought mortified her. “Dinner, for sure.” He gave her a peck on the cheek before getting up and checking on the food in the oven. “It’s a bit of a one skillet meal.” It sounded like such a cop out for her first time in his flat, but between filming and bartending it was the best he could do. Serving the plates out he hoped it was flavorful enough.
He settled back into the seat. “I thought after we ate we could move toward the bedroom.” He’d done his best to clean up the room and make it as comfortable as possible. The dinner was tasty - one pot or not - and she enjoyed her first taste and gave him a hum of appreciation. The way his cheeks colored just a little bit when he mentioned his bedroom made her own heat - though considerably more than his had, she was sure - and she nodded. “Maybe watch a movie?” She asked with her closest approximation of a coy look. That’s what people said when they wanted an excuse to get into bed together, right?
Goodness, and she was supposed to be a good actress! Maybe it was just different when it was real life.
As they ate, the time passed much like it might on set - talking about anything but work, and he asked her more questions about growing up Cuban. They’d known each other most of their lives, but something about this conversation just seemed different, deeper somehow.
When they finished, she insisted on helping him with the dishes even though he tried to brush her offer off, but they finished up - together - pretty quickly and then he gave her a quick tour of the flat. She grabbed her little bag - which had her toothbrush, lip gloss, and a change of clothes (just in case) shrunk down into it - and followed him into his bedroom. It was clean and simple and she kind of liked that - it matched him, his vibe, in a way.
She sat on the bed, much like they always did in her bedroom, and waited while he put a movie on, though she didn’t even really bother to see what he’d selected.
“Jeremy?” she asked, her voice somewhat tentative, “Come here,” she added, a little more confident. He wanted her. She wanted this, with him. There was nothing to be nervous about. Jeremy woke up earlier than normal the next morning to see Bennie still sound asleep next to him. He smiled. It was a night he wouldn’t soon forget for the two of them. He got up slowly, letting his arm move a few inches at a time. He didn’t want to wake her just yet.
Tossing on an easy pair of shorts and a shirt he made his way back out to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. He wasn’t quite a barista but he could make a simple cup of coffee. He remembered that she took her coffee dark roast and black.
He poured her a simple cup in one of his travel mug, they were due on set within the next hour. Making his own coffee, he heated some wraps in a pan and prepped some eggs to set up breakfast for them to take with them to the set. “Hey, beautiful.” He said softly entering the room again. “I made up breakfast, but we should probably head into the set.”