Human AU
Standing there under the softly lit restaurant sign, fidgeting with the cuffs of his tan dress shirt, Dr. Emile Picani was starting to get the feeling that he was being bailed on by his date of the night. It was a humid evening, the combined high temperature making it practically unbearable to wear such long sleeves outside like this, even after the sun had set. The toes of his dark brown dress shoes skimmed the pavement as he bounced from foot to foot, his nerves getting to him. It was almost embarrassing that even as a therapist, he struggled to keep his nerves and his own anxiety in check sometimes. He kept checking the time. After forty-five minutes of waiting, Emile finally had to come to terms with the cold, hard truth: He'd been stood up.
With a quiet sigh, Emile gently pushed open the door of the restaurant, feeling the welcoming blast of the AC on his face. He looked almost solemnly at the hostess. "Table for one, please."
She gave him a pitying look, as if he was a puppy who'd just been kicked, making Emile hold back a wince. "Of course, dear. Right this way." She grabbed a single menu and led the way to a table meant to sit two. Tonight, however, only one seat was occupied.
"Can I get you something to drink?" The waitress asked. Emile was so out of it he hadn't even heard her introduce herself, let alone her even come up in the first place.
"I . . . uh, sweet tea, please?"
She nodded and walked away, leaving Emile alone once again. He sighed again, tapping his fingers against the dark red table cloth. He knew he was a sad, pitying sight to behold. He also knew everyone else in this restaurant could clearly assume he'd been stood up. He felt naked here, like someone had stripped everything away and tossed him in a cage of lions, vulnerable. He felt . . . like all his emotions were out, on display with no glass protecting them. A perfect set up for someone to rip them out and stomp all over them.
The waitress returned with his tea. Nodding in thanks, Emile hesitated then ordered himself a meal. He might as well try to enjoy the night and at least treat himself to a fancy dinner after a long day, right? Once the waitress left with his order, he pulled his phone out. Avoiding the dating app and the message notifications sitting there from his other matches, Emile tried to busy himself with the games he had, despite the fact that as he played them, there was no true enjoyment happening here.
"Are you doing alright?" A voice asked a few minutes later, causing Emile to look up. His eyes locked with those of another man and . . . wow. He was gorgeous, his eyes a deep brown, now wrinkled in concern. His hair, naturally brown with added purple highlights, was indeed eye catching. He was dressed in evening casual, a white, half-sleeved dress shirt with black pants and black sneakers. A brown messenger bag was settled on his shoulder, along with a black leather jacket.
"In all honesty? No," Emile chuckled, trying to laugh his situation off despite the fact it felt like there was a pit sitting inside him.
"Ah, got it. You want some company, or would you prefer I just leave you alone?"
Emile hesitated. His heart was already broken, so why not?
"Some company would be nice, actually . . ."
He looked surprised, but smiled some and sat across from him, hanging his bag and jacket off the back of the chair. "My name's Remy Sanders." He held his hand out, across the table for Emile to shake, which he did.
"Dr. Emile Picani." The therapist tried not to focus on how warm Remy's hand was, or how soft it felt . . . or how perfectly their hands fit together—
The two pulled their hands back. "A doctor, eh? Definitely impressive."
A giggle bubbled out of Emile's mouth. "Thank you. I'm a therapist. Always was a dream of mine to have a job that can help people." What was he doing? As if this man cared about his profession, let alone why he chose to go into it! Despite these worries, Remy smiled after this.
"Here is your meal, sir . . ." The waitress placed a plate and two sides beside it in front of Emile. She looked to Remy. "Oh, hello! Can I get you something as well, sir?"
"A hot cup of coffee would be wonderful." With a smile and a small wink that made the waitress laugh, she left, leaving them alone once more.
"Do you usually flirt with people?" The words left Emile's mouth before he could even think them through. He gasped and slapped a hand over his mouth, mumbling, "I'm so sorry . . ."
"Hey, it's alright!" Remy quickly assured, smiling warmly. "And to answer your question, I do occasionally, but it's mainly friendly. Besides, she's not really my type."
"Ah . . . g-g-got it." Emile carefully began to eat, thoughts swirling through his head. Of course . . . what was even even thinking in the first place? Remy Sanders was probably straight. Even if he wasn't, Emile highly doubted he would have an interest in someone like him. He wasn't remotely attractive, his personality was too bright, too annoying.
"Hey . . . can I ask you something?" Remy asked, dumping sugar packets into his recently-brought out coffee. With a hesitant nod, Emile looked down at his plate, nerves swimming around in his stomach.
"What happened? Like, how did you end up alone tonight? You don't have to answer just . . . was wondering."
"Oh . . ." Emile sat down his fork, lacing his hands together in front of him. "I was stood up. I had a date set for tonight, and I waited outside in the sweltering heat for forty-five minutes wearing a dress shirt and dress pants, nice shoes, and I had a happy attitude and they just ruined it!" Emile had gently snapped. The outburst brought tears to his eyes and he picked up the cloth napkin, dabbing at his eyes to try and catch the tears before they fell. "I'm sorry I just . . . I got my hopes up. And now my emotions are out of wack . . ."
Remy was silent for a moment. He then stood and came over to Emile's side, causing the therapist to look up at him with a red face. Whether the tint was due to his tears, or the close proximity of the two was a question for another day. For now, the men just locked eyes with each other. Remy reached out and dabbed away the rest of the tears with the napkin. "How about this . . . once you finish dinner, we can go out and do something to make up for that jerk standing you up, okay?" His voice was soft, deep with just a slight effeminate touch to it. Emile liked it, finding it soothing.
"Okay . . . let me grab a box and pay then we can go," He said, shakily.
"I can pay," Remy offered.
Emile shook his head lightly. "No thanks. I'll pay for my meal and your coffee." He smiled weakly, and this caused Remy to step back slightly, though nodding and offering his own smile back.
A few minutes later, Emile and Remy walked out of the restaurant, Emile with a small box tucked under his arm. "I took an Uber here . . . my car's in the shop."
"No worries. Well, one worry actually. Are you okay with riding on a motorcycle?"
"A motorcycle?" Emile's jaw dropped a bit, then he smiled almost incredulously. "I've always wanted to ride one . . ."
Laughing gently, Remy pulled his keys out and led him over to the parking lot, where a sleek black and dark purple motorcycle was sitting. He offered a helmet to Emile, who took it graciously. He strapped it on, watching Remy do the same after. He then continued to watch as Remy climbed onto the motorcycle, getting situated. It was in that moment Emile realized just how close the seats were . . . how close he would be to Remy. His heart started to pound in his chest, sweat forming on his palms so much so he had to discreetly wipe them on his pants.
"Hopping on?"
"I-Uh-I . . . Yes!" A laugh bubbled out and Emile climbed on. With his box from the restaurant in one of the side bags, his hands were free. He tried not to think too much into this, but it was hard to as his legs were brushing Remy's, his chest close to his back.
"Make sure to hold on, okay?"
"Mhm . . ." Emile mumbled, not trusting himself with anymore speech than that. He let his arms loop around Remy's waist, slightly comforted by the warmth that radiated from his body. Once the engine was started up and Remy was prepared, they were off. With a squeak, Emile's grip tightened on Remy. He made sure not to restrict the other man's movements. Staring at the ground and cars moving by around them at a fast pace caused him to feel a bit sick, so he instead rested his helmet-covered head on Remy's back, finding comfort in his warmth and the feel of the leather jacket he now wore. Emile sighed in contentment and just let himself slowly relax to the feel of Remy and the low purr of the motor. This relaxing soon turned into him falling asleep, holding on tightly. With the side bars and extra padding around the seat, the therapist was safe and secure, sound asleep.
Midway through the ride Remy realized his passenger had fallen asleep. He wasn't disappointed in a wrench being thrown in his plans. Instead, he quickly adjusted and changed routes. He rode back to his own house, as he didn't know where Emile lived. Upon arriving and the motorcycle being shut off, he tried to gently wake the man.
"Mhmmmm . . . not yet . . ." Emile mumbled, sleepily. He tried to hold onto Remy more, face twisting up a bit in discomfort once his pillow had to move away.
"We're at my house, hun . . ." He gently pinched him, which caused Emile's eyes to flutter open..
"Oh . . ." Emile sat up, sliding his helmet off. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Oh dear . . . I messed up our plans I'm so sorry!"
"You didn't mess anything up, Emile. I understand, you're tired. We can do something another day," Remy said, then slowly continued. "Maybe . . . we can try a real date, if you're up for that."
"A date with you? Yes please," The therapist said quietly, still sleepy.
Remy chuckled. "Alright, we can settle that when you're more awake." He pulled out a slip of paper and scribbled his number and name down. He put it with Emile's box, then asked, "Want me to drive you home?"
"Mhm . . . please . . ." Emile was already putting his helmet on and climbing back onto the motorcycle. He waited until Remy got in and got situated once more, then got comfy again, ready for the ride home. This time, he was more awake and alert. And when it was time to get off, he did so reluctantly. The two men now stood, standing in the therapist's driveway. Hesitating, Emile shrugged away his nerves and hugged Remy tightly, causing him to look surprised for a moment before easily easing into it.
"Thank you so much . . ."
"No thanks is needed, hun . . ."
"Still . . ." Emile tilted his head back to look at him. His eyes began to trail down from Remy's eyes to his lips. He slowly stepped back, not wanting to push too far. "I should probably get inside . . . it's getting late."
"Defintely. Goodnight, Emile . . ."
"Goodnight, Remy . . ." With one last moment of hesitation, he glanced back to Remy, who was giving him an almost reassuring look, as if he knew. The look was all the courage and go ahead he needed to get just a bit closer and kiss his cheek. He let it linger then pulled away with a giggle. Sharing a smile with Remy, Emile went up to his front door and went inside, already thinking he couldn't wait to see him again.
*•*•*•*•*•*
Hello, everyone! It's been a while, hasn't it? I don't have much of an author's note to give. All I can say is I'm so sorry for having not written something in so long. I hope you all enjoy this as I worked really hard on it! My reads have went down a lot recently, so I don't know how many of you still read anymore . . . But either way I just hope you all like it!