15. Let's Be Lucky People, You and Me

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Awsten's pov:

All I could think about was how fucking pretty Dallon was.

I was far more anxious than I should've been, "Deep breaths," I coached myself. "Deep breaths."

I was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, I had on a plain white shirt with a black jacket over it. I'd combed back my purple hair so that it was out of my eyes, and I'd painted my nails with purple polish to match the color.

I felt hot as fuck, but Dallon would undoubtedly be hotter, hence the anxiety.

He had texted me the address of a steakhouse that was conveniently only about 5 minutes from my apartment. Our reservation was for 7 and it was 6:50 at the moment, I needed to get going.

I fucking hated being late for things, it was a shitty representation of yourself and it sucksssss to keep people waiting on you.

Once I got to the restaurant I spotted Dallon right away. God, being punctual was so sexy.

"Hey," Dallon walked over to me, his smile lighting up. "You look incredible."

I could feel myself blush underneath his intense stare. He was wearing a pair of black pants, a black shirt, and a white blazer with birds on it. His hair was swept to the side. If God has favorites, Dallon is at the top of the list. He was perfect.

"Thanks," I mumbled sheepishly, looking up at him.

He reached his hand out to take mine, "Shall we?" He said with an authoritative joking-tone to his voice.

"We shall," I responded, matching his tone and puffing out my chest, trying to seem more confident than I was.

"Reservation for two," he spoke to the man behind the desk. "Last name, Weekes."

I blushed HARD. I knew he had to use his last name to hold the reservation for both of us, but the way he said it had me thinking about wedding rings.

He glanced over at me once the waiter had shown us to our table, his eyes meeting mine, and his mouth formed an extensive grin, almost as if he couldn't stop himself from smiling if he'd wanted to.

I felt very self conscious all of a sudden. He must have noticed because he turned his gaze from me, "Sorry." He said.

I felt my heart drop. The most gorgeous man in the whole world did not just apologize to me. "For what?" I stumbled over my words.

"Um, I just, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Like, when someone's really cute I tend to look at them more than I probably should. I just like looking at pretty people." He lifted his eyes to meet mine.

I wasn't sure, but if I had to guess, my jaw had just dropped. Cute. Pretty. Those were not words I was used to.

"I really really like you," I blurted out.

He laughed his beautiful laugh, it was quiet and gentle and full and so very him.

I was suddenly very jealous of anyone else who had ever heard him laugh. I wanted it all to myself. I wanted him all to myself.

His laugh died down and we fell into a comfortable silence as we both skimmed our menus.

"Good choices," I remarked.

"Mm," he responded. "I love this place."

But when the waiter came over to take our order I realized that I hadn't actually come to a decision on what I wanted.

"I'll get the aged prime rib with the caesar salad," Dallon smiled up at the waiter.

"Um, same for me," I muttered, meeting Dallon's eyes, his smile offering me the confidence I needed.

"Oh, and a bottle of champagne, please." Dallon added. "It's a special occasion," he winked at me.

The waiter nods and recites our order, leaving us alone once more. "A special occasion?" I raise my eyebrows.

"It's not everyday I dine with a literal angel," he bites his lower lip and my brain drowns in dopamine.

I didn't even mention that I don't drink, if feeling like this is any indication of what being drunk might be like, I don't think I'd mind it too much.

I reach my hand across the table, attempting to hold his.

But instead, Dallon reaches for my hand, pulling it up to his lips and kissing it before setting both of our hands back onto the table, interlacing his fingers with mine.

I cannot remember a time when a first date has gone this perfectly.

........

I stumbled over my feet, loosely grasping to Dallon's shirt to stop myself from falling over.

So this was being drunk.

I knew I should've stopped after two glasses, but all of a sudden it had become three, then four, and maybe 5? I can't remember anything after four.

Dallon was just as drunk as I was, he was just slightly better at handling it.

This wasn't how I'd wanted it to go. I hadn't wanted to get drunk on our first date, or ever actually, and I hadn't wanted to be falling over ourselves as we made our way back to my apartment.

I decided that I didn't mind it too much, though. There were worse ways for dates to go.

"This is it," I slurred my words, working on unlocking my door.

"Nice place," Dallon commented.

Even drunk, he was charming.

I awkwardly swung open my door, letting Dallon walk in before me so I could relock it.

This was the part where we fuck, right? I think so. I hadn't done the whole intercourse thing in a hot second. I also had never been drunk. I also had never had a literal god in my apartment.

A bunch of firsts.

I walked over to Dallon and kissed him softly, letting his soft lips graze across mine. I rested my hands against his chest, feeling his hands fall around my waist.

After a few minutes of standing like that I moved to the hem of Dallon's shirt, attempting to pull it up, but I felt his hand stop me.

"Awsten." He spoke clearly. "We're drunk. You more so than me. I would never in my wildest imagination take advantage of you. Let's have a seat, I'll get you some water."

I reached a hand up to my face, squinting my eyes, trying to calm the headache that was raging through my mind, and attempting to comprehend Dallon's words.

I felt Dallon's hand against my lower back as he directed me to the couch in my living room.

"I'll be right back, Aws." He said as he made his way to the kitchen, leaving me on the couch.

I laughed, drunkenly hiccuping. "Jawn calls me that."

"Who's Jawn?" Dallon asked, coming back into the room with a glass of water. But he didn't even seem jealous at the mention of another man's name, he just seemed genuinely curious. He was too good to be true.

I took a sloppy sip of the water, "He's my friend- my best friend- um I love him a lot. No no not like that but like... wait. Okay. I like you in a way where like I could think about fucking you and like your last name could be mine but like I don't want Jawn's last name because I don't want to fuck him, y'know. But also I don't want to like go apple picking with him. But I'd like to go apple picking with you maybe. Or like I'd be okay with going to the movies with you and holding hands but-"

Dallon cut me off with a laugh, "Awsten, I understand."

"I like how you say my name," I muttered quietly.

Dallon just nodded in response, taking my hand and leading me to my bed.

We fell onto the bed next to each other, Dallon lied where I normally do, but I didn't mind. I moved so that my head rested on his chest and I could feel his right leg against my left leg.

"Goodnight, Dallon." I murmured into his shirt.

"Goodnight, Awsten." 

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