Who: Jakoby & Phil Where: Dalton//a restaurant in Columbus What: Spending Valentine’s Day together. When: Monday, February 14th, after class (backdated) Rating: SFW
The bell rang and students flooded the hallways. Amongst them was Phil, weaving without really looking up from his notebook, entranced by bullet points that he had highlighted the night prior. Now he faced the task of recalling why they were important and worth his attention. He felt it on the tip of his tongue, but at the same time he had no idea what he was supposed to do with all these random facts. He sighed and snapped it shut, fumbling the notebook as he bumped into someone.
It clattered upon the floor with a KKITT-ssshh!, pages bending under the weight of the spine. Phil rolled his eyes and squatted down to pick it up.
Jakoby had been waiting on an opportunity to talk to Phil – but he’d let his nerves get the best of him during class. Now, spotting him as he bent to retrieve his notebook, Jake branched off from his peers and made his way towards his ex – it was now or never, right? As Phil straightened up, he made his move, stepping into the older teen’s path to prevent him from walking away. “Are you free tonight?” he asked without hesitation, confident smile masking the butterflies that seemed to have found a home in his stomach.
“Yeah, I guess I am--” he began without even realizing who had caught him. Phil gaped at Jakoby, surprised to see him. Given how there’d been no mention or advances earlier in the day, he’d assumed that there’d be no special Valentine’s Day date or whatever the hell he’d been looking forward to. A little more than confused by his thoughts (and desires), Phil had trouble easing into a smile. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, you see, I made these reservations,” he replied easily, meeting Phil’s gaze, “and I was hoping that you’d be the one to accompany me.” He didn’t care if that seemed forward – maybe that was half the point, he wasn’t really sure. All he knew was that he really hoped Phil would accept.
Seeing as how reservations had already been made, Phil would have been a jerk to decline. He couldn’t tell if Jakoby was being efficient or manipulative; he was roped into going along with this, wasn’t he?
But then he had a change of heart. Phil relaxed when he heard Jak’s tone of voice. It was so frail, so hopeful, almost helpless. He couldn’t doubt the sincerity of it anymore. “I... All right. Sure. I’d love to go.” The word had slipped past without him noticing.
Jakoby practically lit up when Phil agreed to go to dinner with him, a response that spoke to just how much this meant to him. He hadn’t intended to come across as manipulative, just confident – a part of him had worried, though, that Phil would accept solely out of politeness; thankfully, the latter half of his comment pushed that concern from Jake’s mind. Phil, at least to some extent, really wanted to do this. And maybe that meant he’d take well to the younger teen asking for a second chance later in the evening – he hoped so. He really, really hoped so.
“Awesome! I’ll stop by your room around 6:30?”
As if Phil could say ‘no’ to a smile that radiant. How he missed being the one to trigger it, the one to witness it every day in passing, be it in the halls or during class or whatever impromptu plans they sprung upon one another.
“Sounds good to me. And, Jakoby?” - he pressed a chaste kiss against the boy’s forehead - “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
No matter how collected he was attempting – but probably failing – to remain, he couldn’t stop the blush that made its way onto his cheeks at the kiss. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Phil,” was the soft response he gave, a hint of shyness to his tone before he forced himself to regain his confidence. Biting his bottom lip, his eyes raked briefly over Phil’s body. “I’ll see you tonight,” he promised before turning to walk away.
A flutter soared through Phil’s heart. He looked down at himself and wondered if this was a case he had to go to the nurse for. No, he could handle this on his own. He wanted to take care of this on his own. One more shot. No big deal. “I missed you, too.” He smiled the rest of the day.
-x-x-x-x-
Smoothing down his hair, Jakoby looked himself over once more in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom and into his and Fletcher’s bedroom. After pulling his jacket on, he picked up the gift box sitting on his desk, slipping it into his pocket before grabbing the rose – blue, because it was Phil’s favourite colour – from off the desk as well. Time to get this show on road. After verifying that he had his wallet, he smiled nervously over at his roommate. “Wish me luck,” he muttered before heading for the door and slipping out into the hall. The walk to Phil’s room took no time at all and, after taking a calming breath, he raised his hand and knocked.
Vain as ever, Phil continued to twirl in front of the mirror. No matter how many times Joel had reassured him in the past, he always found something wrong with his outfits. He sighed. Right as he was about to give up, there was a knock at the door. Impeccable timing, that was the sign of a true gentleman. He grinned at his reflection and smoothed his hair back. Phil strode to the door and answered it, leaning against the frame, both suave yet slick.
“Hey.” Best opening line ever. Phil winked and took one of his hands, greeting it with a kiss. He leaned in and pressed another to Jak’s cheek. “Trying to hide something from me, Mr. Smith?” he noted, eyeing the blue rose in his other hand. “You know those are artificial, right?”
“Hey,” he returned, unable to mask his smile when Phil took his hand; without really giving it any thought, he laced their fingers together as the older teen leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Genetically engineered, actually,” he countered, grinning slightly as he offered Phil the rose. He wasn’t going to point out that blue roses signified attaining the impossible – but it was something he’d considered in deciding for sure on what type of flower to get. After all, it had seemed, for a while, that Phil taking him back was going to be an impossibility. Sure, it seemed more likely now, but the symbolism couldn’t hurt.
Fingers intertwined, Phil wondered what it would take to yank his hand free. It wouldn’t take much physically, not at all, but he no longer had the heart to be angry. Truth be told, that had dissipated fairly quickly despite what Jakoby had done. Maybe that was a sign.
“You clean up nicely,” he murmured, appreciating the effort put forth on his behalf. Whatever he had done for the past hour probably paled in comparison to what Jak had done. Phil wished that his knack for fashion went beyond finding nice pieces and more into presenting them. There I go again, worrying about nothing. Jeez, if he knew, he’d look at me like I was crazy. So he looked away lest his eyes gave him away.
Wait. “Genetically engineered?” he asked, glancing back. “I thought they just dyed those. How’d you get your hands on one of them?” Probably off the internet or something another. Though, disregarding all the extra stuff done to produce the rich color, the rose really was beautiful. The fact that it was a hue of blue reminded Phil of Jak’s eyes.
He took the rose by the stem and admired it for a moment... Then he looked into Jakoby’s eyes, far more mesmerized by them than the bloom.
“I could say the same about you,” he responded, gaze raking over Phil’s body for a moment – and it was entirely true. But, then, he always thought that Phil looked good, even when he wasn’t trying. Maybe it was just Jakoby being biased, but he almost felt bad for the other guys who’d be bringing dates to the restaurant – all eyes were bound to be on Phil. “You really do look great,” he added softly.
Giving a slight shrug in response, he explained, “There are these two companies working to create the first ‘true blue’ rose; my cousin’s girlfriend has an aunt out in Melbourne who works for one of them – she helped me get some strings pulled.” He hadn’t actually expected it to work out, and had been planning on getting exactly what Phil had mentioned – dyed roses, – but luck must have been on his side. It probably helped that Stacy’s aunt was a hopeless romantic...
He couldn’t help but smile as Phil’s attention returned to him, their eyes meeting for a long moment; words couldn’t express how badly he wanted to just close the space between their bodies and kiss the older teen, but he also wanted to do this right. A proper (second) ‘first date’; unlike their real one – Jakoby wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that their first date (Hell, their entire relationship) had been formed on anything more than circumstance and lust, but there was so much more to their relationship with each other now, and he truly hoped that the night would reflect that. “We should get going,” he murmured after a moment, forcing himself to break the eye-contact.
"Well, a date's a date. I wanted to look good--for you." The corner of Phil's lips curled up.
Sometimes it escaped his mind that the boys at Dalton came from reputable families with a lot of wealth to flaunt; if not that, then relatives who dabbled in anything and everything. It shouldn't have surprised him to hear about Jakoby's aunt having a hand in this experiment. Now if only his folks did groundbreaking things like that. But then again, it forced him to be cautious with his money. There was a brighter side to everything (right?)
He eyed the rose and spun it. Such a rich hue. Bewitching and almost unnatural.
"I'd like to think that I've all the time in the world with you." But Phil didn't lag behind.
Graceful as a knight in glistening armor, he took the hand of his partner and started down the hall. He made a show of leading Jakoby, winking, then chuckling at his own act. "I've tried to keep a straight face around you, love, but it's impossible." Despite breaking character, he quickly picked up where he had left off and all but waltzed towards the stairs.
“You do,” he reassured, grinning as Phil started with his antics; he really couldn’t say he was surprised. Besides, it was adorable and he flushed at the other teen’s comments, eyes shining as Phil referred to him in such a way. If there had been any lingering doubt about the love Jakoby felt for him – which there wasn’t – it would have been eliminated in that moment. A few months ago, he might’ve made a joke about how nothing male could keep straight around him, but it no longer seemed appropriate, so he let it fall away. Giving a soft laugh, he allowed Phil to continue guiding him towards the stairs, completely mindless of anyone else who may have been out and about.
-x-x-x-x-
The restaurant they chose was a loud and vibrant place, aptly named Fireworks and boasted sizzling appetizers across the front of its menus. Phil couldn’t help but snicker at the festive decor - light up hearts and music note confetti on every table - which clashed against the usual Christmas lights already up, a few Chinese lanterns hanging in each corner, and pink flamingos. The walls of the place were a salmon pink, the ceiling an odd baby blue. It hurt his eyes to look at it, but he hadn’t the heart to upset the young waitress who kept insisting that they sit outside on the patio before the lagoon. Thank goodness the outdoors was free of any blinding paints, but the heart-lights were there to stay.
An umbrella stood above their heads, shielding them in case of any light showers. Phil thanked their waitress and settled into the - “Lawn chairs, huh? Wow. The food must be really good.” It was so tacky beyond belief.
Jakoby couldn’t help but laugh as he watched Phil, trying to gage his reactions – he’d chosen the place intentionally, of course. “It is,” he promised, still grinning as he settled into his seat, “Like, amazing. And c’mon, you have to admit it, something about the sheer tackiness is oddly endearing.” Giving a small shrug, he explained, “My cousin dragged me here when she visited last summer; I’m not sure I’ve ever been as skeptical about anything as I was about this place.”
Skepticism was putting it nicely. Still, Phil promised to behave. If Jakoby recommended it, he was obliged to at least give it a shot. “Endearing, right.” He picked up a menu and began flipping through. “So, how happy were you when I said yes?” Phil smirked. He shouldn’t have put Jakoby on the spot like that, but he couldn’t help it.
As if the look on his face at the time hadn’t told Phil exactly how happy he was. “Depends,” he countered, donning a coy grin to contrast Phil’s smirk, “How happy were you when I asked?” An answer wasn’t entirely necessary; it was more an attempt to keep this on a more balanced ground. Opening his own menu, he skimmed over it, but couldn’t refrain from sneaking a peek or two at his date.
It figured that he wouldn’t get a straight answer out of Jak. Phil pouted for but a second before answering, “Happier than I thought I’d be. I wanted to embrace you and never let go, to kiss you, to--” he cut himself off as the waitress returned with glasses of water. He quickly went through the appetizers, trying to figure out what to order.
A dusting of pink spread across Jakoby’s cheeks as Phil rambled; he wondered if it was weird that comments like that had the heat rising in his cheeks when more blatantly sexualized comments rarely even fazed him. Smiling up at the waitress as she returned with their water, he thanked her before glancing at Phil, “Pick whatever you want; it doesn’t matter much to me.” He and Tara had tried both the caviar and the Spanakopita and they’d both been good – he assumed most of the other options would be, too, and he trusted Phil’s taste.
Leave it to the money-conscious to pick something simple, “Then let’s have the spinach and artichoke dip with chips.” Phil continued to look over the menu. “Hm? Water’s fine, thanks. Jak, you want something to drink?” His eyes flickered between two options, wondering if either suited Jak’s tastes. He had a good feeling about them both, but it never hurt to be cautious.
Jakoby would really never understand people who only ordered water in restaurants, but if that’s what Phil wanted... “Gin and tonic,” he responded, flashing the waitress a smile, his ID easily passing for real when she asked to see it. He had absolutely no intentions of getting drunk, but he was a firm believer that there was no harm in having a drink or two over dinner. Besides, it might calm some of the butterflies that had returned to his stomach.
Phil clicked his tongue in disapproval but didn’t say anymore. He’d drive them back. If and when he did drink, he indulged in vodka or whiskey. “I’m surprised that it isn’t cold out here. Not even a gust.” The view was beautiful. He found himself smiling and glanced back at Jakoby. “I know I already said this before, but it deserves mention time and time again. You look great.”
Phil’s disapproval didn’t go unnoticed, and he gave the older teen a sheepish smile, the look in his eyes playfully innocent. He looked away after a moment, nodding a little with Phil’s comment – he’d thought the same thing. The winter weather wasn’t particularly mild this year, yet it wasn’t cold out here at all – and the view, another of Fireworks’ redeeming factors, added nicely to whole effect. With a smile, he met Phil’s gaze again, “I’m glad you think so.” That was, after all, the point in him getting dressed up – he wanted to leave a lasting (and good) impression.
Reaching across the table, he placed his hand over his date’s. “And Phil?” he asked, smile taking on a hint of shyness, “I’m really, really happy that you said yes.”
Gently he placed his other hand upon Jak’s. “Good. It makes me happy that you’re happy.” Clichéd, yes, but true nonetheless. Phil looked down sheepishly, worried that they’d get caught at any minute. Then again, they were dressed up and spending Valentine’s Day together. The implications were pretty obvious.
Jakoby was fairly certain that it wasn’t going to be an issue – he’d gotten fairly good vibes both from the area and from the staff the last time he’d visited, so it was all a matter of the current patrons. And it was Valentine’s Day, for fuck’s sake; who would really ruin their own dinner to make a fuss over another couple? His smile widened a bit at Phil’s response, despite the cliché of the statement; he could tell that Phil genuinely meant it, and that was all that mattered. “Guess that makes us both pretty damn gleeful right now,” he mused, watching Phil even as the older teen let his gaze drift away.
“Happy together, huh...” Phil’s smile faded as he looked back up. He waited, expecting Jakoby to be the one to start them off.
There it was, plain as day - together. The opening for him to get to the whole point – no, one of the main points – of the entire night. Biting his lip for a moment, Jakoby hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to do it, and, honestly, not because he was expecting rejection – face it, that seemed unlikely – but because he just... wasn’t sure he knew the right way to say everything. A writer at a loss for words – what did that leave him with?
“I love you, Phil,” he finally said, effectively breaking the silence that had fallen around them, “I know we’ve decided to make up and put our differences aside, but I love you. And I only know two things for sure – I’m terrified of losing you again, and I want to be with you. Only you. I’m still learning the ropes of this relationship stuff, but... I want to be yours again. I want to be able to call you mine.” Taking a breath and letting it out slowly, his eyes were pleading as he asked, “Phil Gentry, will you go out with me?”
Not in the least bit surprised by Jakoby’s humble request, Phil gave a small nod. He felt the corners of his lips tugging. This had been coming for a while now. Now that it was here, he forgot the words he had meant to say. So he improvised, “Yeah. Of course I will. I’d be a fool to say no.” Phil brought his hand up to his lips. “I’m yours and you’re mine. That’s just how it works.”
Jakoby nearly squeed, but managed to cover it, his eyes brightening as a smile blossomed on his face. Knowing Phil was going to say yes and actually hearing it were two entirely different things, and the mix of happiness and relief that flooded through him was nearly overwhelming. He was really getting a second chance to do this right. And he would. He would. There was no way he was fucking things up, not this time. “Thank you.”