(fic) you've got a smile that takes me to another planet
title: you've got a smile that takes me to another planet
pairing: brooks laich/jeff schultz
rating: pg13
notes: total fluff. title from taylor swift's "today was a fairytale." previously posted on ao3.
Jeff is one of those people who don’t have to fill every moment with chatter, the kind that can just let silence be silence. When he does talk, it’s insightful and important and all of the things that no one else has the logic or practicality to string together.
Brooks appreciates that, as a guy and especially as a roommate. Jeff doesn’t chirp Brooks about his admittedly neurotic schedule and lets him sleep without having to blast the TV or crazy music. Brooks thinks it’s nice that Jeff can just exist without much fuss, but what he loves most about Jeff is how even after hours of silence, Brooks never feels alone when he’s around. He feels the companionship in the air, even if they’re both simply lying on their separate beds and reading. It’s comforting, a feeling often difficult to come by on long road trips when all Brooks wants is his own bed.
-
Neither of them really realizes that they’ve become best friends until it’s too late.
It happens mostly because Brooks is getting old, too old to go out and party like the young gun he once wanted to be. He spends nights on the road in the hotel room, resting and stretching and preparing for the next game. Jeff is always there, too, because Jeff Schultz has never and will never be a social butterfly.
The rest of the blame for the friendship falls on the fact that Brooks actually likes Jeff way more than he wants to admit. He likes the way that Jeff speaks; deep and honest. He likes the way that Jeff never asks for the spotlight, never really wants it, just wants to play the game that he loves, the same way that Brooks does. He likes the way that Jeff is always just there, tall and tranquil and grounding when nothing else is.
-
The beginning of the Brooks&Jeff best-bro-ship stays on the road with traded life stories on the few nights that neither of them can sleep, but soon Brooks can’t help but invite Jeff to his first backyard barbeque of the year with the neighbors because he wants Jeff there and knows it would feel wrong if he isn’t.
Jeff shows up at Brooks’ front door with a six-pack of Yuengling because apparently he remembered that it’s Brooks’ favorite. Brooks is taken aback by the consideration of the gesture, but can’t harp on it for too long, as he’s swept back into the swing of the party before he can do much but thank Jeff and put the pack in a cooler.
Brooks keeps an eye on Jeff while he’s grilling, and sees that he’s settled into a corner of the deck railing, a few guys around him. He’s smiling, even chatting a little. Brooks grins to himself, happy to see Jeff integrating into his group of non-hockey-DC friends so well.
It’s not until the group has calmed down a bit, full of meat and lounging on the deck, that Brooks manages to slide up next to Jeff, a few beers in his hand. He hands one to Jeff, who nods in thanks.
“Having fun?” Brooks asks. He reaches over to pop the top off of Jeff’s beer before his own.
“Yeah,” Jeff says, taking a swig. “These are some cool guys.”
“They are, aren’t they?” Brooks picks at the label on his bottle, not really knowing what to say. It doesn’t seem to matter, because Jeff is Jeff, and he’s perfectly comfortable to stand in silence and drink slowly. Brooks kind of wants to kick himself for feeling nervous in the first place and lets himself relax against the wooden railing.
They stand quietly for a while until another one of Brooks’ neighbors, Andy, comes over and starts talking about basketball. Jeff contributes a few statistics and opinions that honestly impress Brooks enough that he just kind of leans back and watches Jeff speak. He sees Jeff’s eyes light up when he brings up a particularly interesting stat, apparently more into basketball than Brooks had thought. Andy seems taken aback too, but Brooks isn’t paying attention to him, completely transfixed in the low thrum of Jeff’s voice, heightening slightly with his excitement.
After a while, the conversation shifts to something that Jeff has less interest in, and therefore stops carrying the conversation, so Brooks has to clear his throat a few times and jump back in, even though he wants to keep staring at the movement of Jeff’s jaw.
At the end of the night when Brooks is standing by the front door, shaking hands and thanking everyone for coming, Jeff claps him on the shoulder and says, “I had a great time. Thanks for inviting me, Brooks.”
“No problem, buddy.” Brooks says and immediately resolves to invite Jeff to all future functions. Jeff smiles at him, bigger than Brooks has ever seen on him before, and then he’s gone. Brooks kind of wants to stare after him, which strikes him as an odd thing to want, but he’s enveloped in a heavily perfumed hug from Karen across the street before he can analyze the desire further.
It’s not until he’s alone, collecting beer bottles and plastic plates from around the yard, that Brooks has time to think about it. He thinks about everything; the way he couldn’t help but smile whenever he looked over at Jeff, how seeing Jeff light-up made his heart stutter, how happy he was just to know that Jeff was there.
-
Brooks has never been one to deny things, especially things that are more obvious than Sasha’s nationality, so it’s not all that big of a deal for him to admit to himself that he’s really into Jeff.
He just doesn’t really know where to go from there. Jeff is his best friend, teammate, and roommate. It’s not like “boyfriend” fits easily into that mold. Sure, Brooks has fooled around with a teammate before, but he doesn’t think that a few mostly-drunken nights with Mike when they were both practically rookies is the same as this. He and Mike had fun, but it was never anything serious, just convenience. That’s not what Brooks wants with Jeff. He wants something serious, something involved, something real.
Since Brooks has always been a logical kind of dude, he figures the best thing to do is just talk to Jeff about it, because drama and angst is dumb and distracting.
-
Brooks doesn’t get the courage to bring it up for a few more weeks, but he tells himself that he’s waiting until the time is right. All that really happens in that time is Brooks becomes more and more sure of his feelings, more and more sure that he really does want Jeff. But, this isn’t junior high, and Brooks isn’t going to barrel into this all emotions and hormones. He’s determined to deal with it like the mature adult that he is.
They’re sitting on their separate hotel beds after an away game one night. They won, comfortably enough that Brooks is still excited, adrenaline pumping through his blood, but not spectacularly enough that Brooks was tempted to join the younger guys at the bar. He’d been doing that less and less lately anyway, always turning down the party for a quiet evening in, watching movies with Jeff.
ESPN is on quietly but neither of them are really invested in golf “highlights,” so Brooks figures this is as good a time as any.
“So, Jeff,” Brooks starts, trying to sound casual even though he feels more nervous than he has in recent memory. He takes a deep breath, reminds himself that this is Jeff he’s talking to, and calms down a little before continuing. “How’s life going?”
“Uh, well?” Jeff says, eyes still on the TV. “We’re doing pretty decently in the conference.”
“That’s not what I mean. What about your personal life?” Brooks laughs nervously. Jeff turns to look at him, eyebrow quirked. “I know we don’t usually talk about, I mean, if you… erm, sorry, nevermind.” Brooks’ face starts heating up. He feels like an idiot for both trying to bring it up and for losing his nerve before it hadn’t even started.
“No, it’s fine.” Jeff assures him. His voice grounds Brooks, chasing the blush off his cheeks before it had a chance to spread. “Not much is going on, personally. I don’t have time, with hockey and all.”
“No women troubles?” Brooks asks, clearing his throat after to make it seem casual.
“No.”
“No… man troubles?” Brooks says before he chickens out.
“I… I don’t… why… no.” Jeff stammers for a second, flustered in a way that Brooks has never seen on him before.
“I’m sorry, Jeff,” Brooks tells him, stretching a hand out, wanting to comfort him. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine.” Jeff says gruffly. He closes off after that, turning back to the TV and crossing his arms tightly. Brooks doesn’t try to prod him, just flips over to face the wall and mentally berates himself for being an idiot.
He hears Jeff get up and turn the lights and TV off a little while later, but doesn’t move an inch.
Brooks sleeps in a little the next morning, since he was up late worrying, and they don’t have to head to the airport until noon. Jeff is already in the bathroom when Brooks wakes up, so he rolls out of bed and straight to the floor, where he begins doing pushups in just his boxers because he thinks that changing the routine would make things even more awkward.
Jeff comes out of the bathroom when Brooks is at seventy-five. He sits on the edge of the bed, presumably waiting for Brooks to finish.
“And a hundred,” Brooks says quietly, mostly to himself. He knows that Jeff wants to talk, so he sits on his own bed across from him. “Morning,” Brooks says, breaking the ice.
“Morning,” Jeff echoes. He looks nervous, Brooks notices. It strikes him as weird, because Jeff is the most down-to-earth person he knows. It’s one of the things about Jeff that Brooks likes the most.
He sits quietly, waiting for Jeff to get it out, as he always does eventually. Now that he’s under Jeff’s gaze, Brooks kind of wishes he had put a shirt on.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you last night,” Jeff says slowly, deliberately.
“No, I’m the one who…” Brooks starts to interrupt, but Jeff holds a hand up to stop him.
“Don’t. I know. You don’t need to be. I just… didn’t expect that. It’s sort of a sensitive subject.”
Brooks wants to apologize again, but bites his lip, trusting that Jeff will explain himself.
“That’s not a part of my life that I share with people, ever. It’s nothing personal, just the job. You know how it is.”
“I do,” Brooks cuts in, because he can’t hold it in any longer. “But you can trust me, Jeff.”
“I know I can.” Jeff gives him a small smile. “Which is why I’m comfortable telling you that, yeah, I’m gay. I was just taken aback last night.”
Brooks has no idea what to say, he’s just focused on not grinning so hard it breaks his jaw. “I, uhm. Thanks for telling me.” He nods a few times for good measure.
“Of course. I’ll go get coffee. Bathroom’s all yours.” Jeff says and stands up to leave.
Brooks waits until Jeff has a foot out the door before he says, “me too,” and swears he sees Jeff smile before he closes the hotel room door.
-
Brooks waits the gentleman’s three days before he asks Jeff out.
They’re home, a day off for most of the guys, just an optional skate in the morning that Brooks goes to and takes the rest of the day for himself.
He sits on his couch and stares at his phone for a few minutes before shaking off his nerves and dialing Jeff’s number, because neither him nor Jeff are the texting kind.
“Hello?”
“Hey Jeff,” Brooks’ voice is a little too high, so he fights to bring it down. “It’s Brooks.”
“I know,” Jeff says. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, just, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
“Sure, where?” Jeff says immediately.
“Sushi Rock? Around eight?”
“Sounds great, see you there.”
“Wait!” Brooks says, hoping to catch Jeff before he hangs up. He doesn’t hear a click, so he pushes on. “I was thinking, erm, that I could pick you up. Like… like a date.”
“Oh.” Jeff says before falling quiet for a few excruciating seconds. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
It’s like a balloon of stress sitting on top of Brooks’ lungs deflates instantly. “Okay, cool, I’ll pick you up then.”
“Alright,” Jeff says. Brooks might be imagining it, but he’s pretty sure he hears a smile in Jeff’s voice. “See you soon.”
“Yeah, see you soon.” Brooks doesn’t even try to contain his grin as he presses the end button.
-
Brooks showers and shaves and puts on cologne and a collared shirt and soon he’s getting in his car and driving to Jeff’s house. There are little butterflies in his stomach and he feels sort of like this is high school, and he’s on his first ever date, but he kind of likes the feeling. He considers stopping to get flowers, but laughs it off as dumb and clichéd.
Brooks stands on Jeff’s front step, takes a deep breath, and rings the bell. Jeff opens the door almost instantly, dressed similarly to Brooks.
“Hey,” Jeff says.
“Hey,” Brooks repeats. “I thought about getting you flowers.” He blurts out and immediately regrets. The regret dissipates when Jeff starts laughing, low and genuine.
“Let’s go, I’m starving.” Jeff says, clapping Brooks on the shoulder. His hand lingers for a moment too long. Brooks basks in it, glad that he doesn’t have to analyze the movement or convince himself it meant nothing as to not get his hopes up, because he’ s on an actual date with Jeff Schultz.
Brooks doesn’t really know what he was expecting at the restaurant, but no one looks twice at them. Most Sushi Rock regulars are used to random Capitals showing up together, so they’re left alone in their quiet table near the back.
The conversation takes its usual pattern, and Brooks is happily surprised at how easy it is. It feels like a regular meal with Jeff just with a bit of added excitement, up until their fingers wind together under the table while they wait for the check. Brooks knows it’s sort of girly, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever want to let go.
All night, Brooks and Jeff secretly compete over who can be the biggest gentleman. Brooks opens the car door for Jeff, Jeff opens the restaurant door for Brooks, and they both rush to try and pull a chair out for the other at their table. They both reach for the check with their free hands, latching on to separate sides of the book.
“Let me,” Brooks says.
“No, you invited me.” Jeff insists, not letting go.
“But…” Brooks starts.
“Please?” Jeff squeezes Brooks’ hand just a little, staring intensely at him. Brooks sighs, nods, and decides that he can’t complain too much because Jeff doesn’t let go of his hand the entire time he goes through the motions of paying.
Brooks walks Jeff to his door at the end of the night, stopping on his front step. He looks up at Jeff, face illuminated oddly because he’s taller than the porch lights.
“I had a great time, Brooks. Thank you.” Jeff says, smiling brilliantly.
“Me too,” Brooks returns it. He clears his throat a little. “So, uh, do you kiss on the first date?” he asks because he figures that if this is going to be high school, he’s going to go all in.
“Sometimes,” Jeff’s smile grows impossibly wider before he swoops down and connects their lips.
Brooks’ breath catches in his chest, and his focus shifts entirely to the light pressure against his mouth. Before he can really comprehend it, the pressure is gone and Jeff is pulling away.
“Good night, Brooks.” Jeff tells him, still smiling.
“Good night, Jeff.” Brooks mirrors it, and walks back to his car.
When he’s just opened his car door, Jeff calls out, “Get the flowers next time.”
“You bet I will.” Brooks gets in his car, thinking that maybe he doesn’t need headlights; his smile is bright enough to light up the road ahead of him.
~fin
pairing: brooks laich/jeff schultz
rating: pg13
notes: total fluff. title from taylor swift's "today was a fairytale." previously posted on ao3.
Jeff is one of those people who don’t have to fill every moment with chatter, the kind that can just let silence be silence. When he does talk, it’s insightful and important and all of the things that no one else has the logic or practicality to string together.
Brooks appreciates that, as a guy and especially as a roommate. Jeff doesn’t chirp Brooks about his admittedly neurotic schedule and lets him sleep without having to blast the TV or crazy music. Brooks thinks it’s nice that Jeff can just exist without much fuss, but what he loves most about Jeff is how even after hours of silence, Brooks never feels alone when he’s around. He feels the companionship in the air, even if they’re both simply lying on their separate beds and reading. It’s comforting, a feeling often difficult to come by on long road trips when all Brooks wants is his own bed.
-
Neither of them really realizes that they’ve become best friends until it’s too late.
It happens mostly because Brooks is getting old, too old to go out and party like the young gun he once wanted to be. He spends nights on the road in the hotel room, resting and stretching and preparing for the next game. Jeff is always there, too, because Jeff Schultz has never and will never be a social butterfly.
The rest of the blame for the friendship falls on the fact that Brooks actually likes Jeff way more than he wants to admit. He likes the way that Jeff speaks; deep and honest. He likes the way that Jeff never asks for the spotlight, never really wants it, just wants to play the game that he loves, the same way that Brooks does. He likes the way that Jeff is always just there, tall and tranquil and grounding when nothing else is.
-
The beginning of the Brooks&Jeff best-bro-ship stays on the road with traded life stories on the few nights that neither of them can sleep, but soon Brooks can’t help but invite Jeff to his first backyard barbeque of the year with the neighbors because he wants Jeff there and knows it would feel wrong if he isn’t.
Jeff shows up at Brooks’ front door with a six-pack of Yuengling because apparently he remembered that it’s Brooks’ favorite. Brooks is taken aback by the consideration of the gesture, but can’t harp on it for too long, as he’s swept back into the swing of the party before he can do much but thank Jeff and put the pack in a cooler.
Brooks keeps an eye on Jeff while he’s grilling, and sees that he’s settled into a corner of the deck railing, a few guys around him. He’s smiling, even chatting a little. Brooks grins to himself, happy to see Jeff integrating into his group of non-hockey-DC friends so well.
It’s not until the group has calmed down a bit, full of meat and lounging on the deck, that Brooks manages to slide up next to Jeff, a few beers in his hand. He hands one to Jeff, who nods in thanks.
“Having fun?” Brooks asks. He reaches over to pop the top off of Jeff’s beer before his own.
“Yeah,” Jeff says, taking a swig. “These are some cool guys.”
“They are, aren’t they?” Brooks picks at the label on his bottle, not really knowing what to say. It doesn’t seem to matter, because Jeff is Jeff, and he’s perfectly comfortable to stand in silence and drink slowly. Brooks kind of wants to kick himself for feeling nervous in the first place and lets himself relax against the wooden railing.
They stand quietly for a while until another one of Brooks’ neighbors, Andy, comes over and starts talking about basketball. Jeff contributes a few statistics and opinions that honestly impress Brooks enough that he just kind of leans back and watches Jeff speak. He sees Jeff’s eyes light up when he brings up a particularly interesting stat, apparently more into basketball than Brooks had thought. Andy seems taken aback too, but Brooks isn’t paying attention to him, completely transfixed in the low thrum of Jeff’s voice, heightening slightly with his excitement.
After a while, the conversation shifts to something that Jeff has less interest in, and therefore stops carrying the conversation, so Brooks has to clear his throat a few times and jump back in, even though he wants to keep staring at the movement of Jeff’s jaw.
At the end of the night when Brooks is standing by the front door, shaking hands and thanking everyone for coming, Jeff claps him on the shoulder and says, “I had a great time. Thanks for inviting me, Brooks.”
“No problem, buddy.” Brooks says and immediately resolves to invite Jeff to all future functions. Jeff smiles at him, bigger than Brooks has ever seen on him before, and then he’s gone. Brooks kind of wants to stare after him, which strikes him as an odd thing to want, but he’s enveloped in a heavily perfumed hug from Karen across the street before he can analyze the desire further.
It’s not until he’s alone, collecting beer bottles and plastic plates from around the yard, that Brooks has time to think about it. He thinks about everything; the way he couldn’t help but smile whenever he looked over at Jeff, how seeing Jeff light-up made his heart stutter, how happy he was just to know that Jeff was there.
-
Brooks has never been one to deny things, especially things that are more obvious than Sasha’s nationality, so it’s not all that big of a deal for him to admit to himself that he’s really into Jeff.
He just doesn’t really know where to go from there. Jeff is his best friend, teammate, and roommate. It’s not like “boyfriend” fits easily into that mold. Sure, Brooks has fooled around with a teammate before, but he doesn’t think that a few mostly-drunken nights with Mike when they were both practically rookies is the same as this. He and Mike had fun, but it was never anything serious, just convenience. That’s not what Brooks wants with Jeff. He wants something serious, something involved, something real.
Since Brooks has always been a logical kind of dude, he figures the best thing to do is just talk to Jeff about it, because drama and angst is dumb and distracting.
-
Brooks doesn’t get the courage to bring it up for a few more weeks, but he tells himself that he’s waiting until the time is right. All that really happens in that time is Brooks becomes more and more sure of his feelings, more and more sure that he really does want Jeff. But, this isn’t junior high, and Brooks isn’t going to barrel into this all emotions and hormones. He’s determined to deal with it like the mature adult that he is.
They’re sitting on their separate hotel beds after an away game one night. They won, comfortably enough that Brooks is still excited, adrenaline pumping through his blood, but not spectacularly enough that Brooks was tempted to join the younger guys at the bar. He’d been doing that less and less lately anyway, always turning down the party for a quiet evening in, watching movies with Jeff.
ESPN is on quietly but neither of them are really invested in golf “highlights,” so Brooks figures this is as good a time as any.
“So, Jeff,” Brooks starts, trying to sound casual even though he feels more nervous than he has in recent memory. He takes a deep breath, reminds himself that this is Jeff he’s talking to, and calms down a little before continuing. “How’s life going?”
“Uh, well?” Jeff says, eyes still on the TV. “We’re doing pretty decently in the conference.”
“That’s not what I mean. What about your personal life?” Brooks laughs nervously. Jeff turns to look at him, eyebrow quirked. “I know we don’t usually talk about, I mean, if you… erm, sorry, nevermind.” Brooks’ face starts heating up. He feels like an idiot for both trying to bring it up and for losing his nerve before it hadn’t even started.
“No, it’s fine.” Jeff assures him. His voice grounds Brooks, chasing the blush off his cheeks before it had a chance to spread. “Not much is going on, personally. I don’t have time, with hockey and all.”
“No women troubles?” Brooks asks, clearing his throat after to make it seem casual.
“No.”
“No… man troubles?” Brooks says before he chickens out.
“I… I don’t… why… no.” Jeff stammers for a second, flustered in a way that Brooks has never seen on him before.
“I’m sorry, Jeff,” Brooks tells him, stretching a hand out, wanting to comfort him. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine.” Jeff says gruffly. He closes off after that, turning back to the TV and crossing his arms tightly. Brooks doesn’t try to prod him, just flips over to face the wall and mentally berates himself for being an idiot.
He hears Jeff get up and turn the lights and TV off a little while later, but doesn’t move an inch.
Brooks sleeps in a little the next morning, since he was up late worrying, and they don’t have to head to the airport until noon. Jeff is already in the bathroom when Brooks wakes up, so he rolls out of bed and straight to the floor, where he begins doing pushups in just his boxers because he thinks that changing the routine would make things even more awkward.
Jeff comes out of the bathroom when Brooks is at seventy-five. He sits on the edge of the bed, presumably waiting for Brooks to finish.
“And a hundred,” Brooks says quietly, mostly to himself. He knows that Jeff wants to talk, so he sits on his own bed across from him. “Morning,” Brooks says, breaking the ice.
“Morning,” Jeff echoes. He looks nervous, Brooks notices. It strikes him as weird, because Jeff is the most down-to-earth person he knows. It’s one of the things about Jeff that Brooks likes the most.
He sits quietly, waiting for Jeff to get it out, as he always does eventually. Now that he’s under Jeff’s gaze, Brooks kind of wishes he had put a shirt on.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you last night,” Jeff says slowly, deliberately.
“No, I’m the one who…” Brooks starts to interrupt, but Jeff holds a hand up to stop him.
“Don’t. I know. You don’t need to be. I just… didn’t expect that. It’s sort of a sensitive subject.”
Brooks wants to apologize again, but bites his lip, trusting that Jeff will explain himself.
“That’s not a part of my life that I share with people, ever. It’s nothing personal, just the job. You know how it is.”
“I do,” Brooks cuts in, because he can’t hold it in any longer. “But you can trust me, Jeff.”
“I know I can.” Jeff gives him a small smile. “Which is why I’m comfortable telling you that, yeah, I’m gay. I was just taken aback last night.”
Brooks has no idea what to say, he’s just focused on not grinning so hard it breaks his jaw. “I, uhm. Thanks for telling me.” He nods a few times for good measure.
“Of course. I’ll go get coffee. Bathroom’s all yours.” Jeff says and stands up to leave.
Brooks waits until Jeff has a foot out the door before he says, “me too,” and swears he sees Jeff smile before he closes the hotel room door.
-
Brooks waits the gentleman’s three days before he asks Jeff out.
They’re home, a day off for most of the guys, just an optional skate in the morning that Brooks goes to and takes the rest of the day for himself.
He sits on his couch and stares at his phone for a few minutes before shaking off his nerves and dialing Jeff’s number, because neither him nor Jeff are the texting kind.
“Hello?”
“Hey Jeff,” Brooks’ voice is a little too high, so he fights to bring it down. “It’s Brooks.”
“I know,” Jeff says. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, just, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
“Sure, where?” Jeff says immediately.
“Sushi Rock? Around eight?”
“Sounds great, see you there.”
“Wait!” Brooks says, hoping to catch Jeff before he hangs up. He doesn’t hear a click, so he pushes on. “I was thinking, erm, that I could pick you up. Like… like a date.”
“Oh.” Jeff says before falling quiet for a few excruciating seconds. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
It’s like a balloon of stress sitting on top of Brooks’ lungs deflates instantly. “Okay, cool, I’ll pick you up then.”
“Alright,” Jeff says. Brooks might be imagining it, but he’s pretty sure he hears a smile in Jeff’s voice. “See you soon.”
“Yeah, see you soon.” Brooks doesn’t even try to contain his grin as he presses the end button.
-
Brooks showers and shaves and puts on cologne and a collared shirt and soon he’s getting in his car and driving to Jeff’s house. There are little butterflies in his stomach and he feels sort of like this is high school, and he’s on his first ever date, but he kind of likes the feeling. He considers stopping to get flowers, but laughs it off as dumb and clichéd.
Brooks stands on Jeff’s front step, takes a deep breath, and rings the bell. Jeff opens the door almost instantly, dressed similarly to Brooks.
“Hey,” Jeff says.
“Hey,” Brooks repeats. “I thought about getting you flowers.” He blurts out and immediately regrets. The regret dissipates when Jeff starts laughing, low and genuine.
“Let’s go, I’m starving.” Jeff says, clapping Brooks on the shoulder. His hand lingers for a moment too long. Brooks basks in it, glad that he doesn’t have to analyze the movement or convince himself it meant nothing as to not get his hopes up, because he’ s on an actual date with Jeff Schultz.
Brooks doesn’t really know what he was expecting at the restaurant, but no one looks twice at them. Most Sushi Rock regulars are used to random Capitals showing up together, so they’re left alone in their quiet table near the back.
The conversation takes its usual pattern, and Brooks is happily surprised at how easy it is. It feels like a regular meal with Jeff just with a bit of added excitement, up until their fingers wind together under the table while they wait for the check. Brooks knows it’s sort of girly, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever want to let go.
All night, Brooks and Jeff secretly compete over who can be the biggest gentleman. Brooks opens the car door for Jeff, Jeff opens the restaurant door for Brooks, and they both rush to try and pull a chair out for the other at their table. They both reach for the check with their free hands, latching on to separate sides of the book.
“Let me,” Brooks says.
“No, you invited me.” Jeff insists, not letting go.
“But…” Brooks starts.
“Please?” Jeff squeezes Brooks’ hand just a little, staring intensely at him. Brooks sighs, nods, and decides that he can’t complain too much because Jeff doesn’t let go of his hand the entire time he goes through the motions of paying.
Brooks walks Jeff to his door at the end of the night, stopping on his front step. He looks up at Jeff, face illuminated oddly because he’s taller than the porch lights.
“I had a great time, Brooks. Thank you.” Jeff says, smiling brilliantly.
“Me too,” Brooks returns it. He clears his throat a little. “So, uh, do you kiss on the first date?” he asks because he figures that if this is going to be high school, he’s going to go all in.
“Sometimes,” Jeff’s smile grows impossibly wider before he swoops down and connects their lips.
Brooks’ breath catches in his chest, and his focus shifts entirely to the light pressure against his mouth. Before he can really comprehend it, the pressure is gone and Jeff is pulling away.
“Good night, Brooks.” Jeff tells him, still smiling.
“Good night, Jeff.” Brooks mirrors it, and walks back to his car.
When he’s just opened his car door, Jeff calls out, “Get the flowers next time.”
“You bet I will.” Brooks gets in his car, thinking that maybe he doesn’t need headlights; his smile is bright enough to light up the road ahead of him.
~fin