Max knocked on Julian's door at a quarter past seven. Jules found his hands shaking as he went to let Max in. Why was he freaking out? What was this formal air? When he opened the door, Max looked oddly stiff as well. He was dressed in a nice blue turtleneck with khakis, thankfully the same level of formality as the maroon button-down and dark slacks Julian selected.
"Hey." Jules ventured.
Max cleared his throat. "Yvonne's."
Julian choked. "No fuckin' way."
Max shrugged. "Don't worry. I'm payin'."
"How did you even— I don't—"
"I reserved the table on Tuesday." Max blurted. "And I'm gonna use my dad's credit card."
Jules sighed. "Fuck, dude. Are you gonna tell me I have cancer, or somethin'? Am I about to die? I didn't think I'd ever fuckin' eat at— at fuckin Yvonne's. Jesus. Should— Should I put on a suit jacket?"
Max giggled. "Dude, relax, I eat there with my family, like, every couple months."
"You people got money money, huh?"
Max playfully smacked Julian's shoulder. The tension slipped away. "Shut up, bitch. I didn't choose this life."
They began to walk down the hallway, still exchanging banter. Julian put on an affected "rich boy" accent. "Oh, poor me, I shall never know the woes of poverty. What a tragedy to wake up each morning in my lavish robe, tended on hand and foot by my loyal manservant—"
Max laughed sharply. "The fuck is a manservant?!"
"You tell me, Richie McRich!"
~~~
Before that Friday, Julian had never had a reservation at a restaurant. His family's idea of fine dining was... well... Chinese takeout. Or cooking at home. And while watching his mother cook meat from the Jewish deli a block away gave Jules an irreplaceable sense of bliss and belonging, he couldn't lie, this reservation shit was tight.
The waitress knew Max's name.
"Please don't call me Mr. Dane, I feel like my old man." Max laughed.
"Of course, Maxwell." She replied with a smile.
Jules sat in stunned silence. College is the great equalizer: Everyone is poor, getting no sleep, burning out, failing classes. Taking the T to Yvonne's, it still didn't feel real. But Julian saw it now; the different worlds in which he and Max resided when off campus. It took his breath away.
The waitress left after a brief conversation with Max about his family's health and when she'd be seeing them again. Max turned to Julian with an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Jesus. They all treat me like that. Freaks me the fuck out."
"Max." Julian began. "You're rich."
Max looked confused and slightly embarrassed. "Um, yeah, I guess I sorta am."
"Really rich."
"I mean, I dunno, you don't have to play it up—"
"The waitress knows your first name."
"Well, I mean, I see that waitress a lot— I mean, I'm sure there's somewhere you eat a lot, somewhere they know you, right?"
Julian scoffed. "Sure, yeah, the fuckin' Jewish deli by my house."
Max messed with his hair. The formal air had returned. "I didn't bring you here to like, brag."
Julian sat back in his chair (But not too far. Sitting in this restaurant, he noticed his posture had suddenly improved). "What did you bring me here to do?"
It was unmistakable, even by the faint candlelight illuminating the table. Max blushed. Julian felt, he thought, every human emotion in an instant. Confusion, surprise, fear, attraction, and, annoyingly, a pulsating hope under it all. Max looked away. "We don't even have drinks yet, dude, don't worry about it. We'll, uh, we'll get to everything." He sounded somewhat... breathless? Nervous, certainly.
By divine providence, just at that moment, the waitress reappeared with a half bottle of champagne, pouring each boy a glass.
A brief conversation followed. Any snacks? A social plate? Oh, Julian, you gotta try the shrimp— that's kosher, right? Shrimp? Oh, fuck, sorry dude, nevermind— How about mushrooms? Can we get those? Wicked, man.
The waitress left again. Max adjusted the curl that had fallen on his face. Julian picked up the champagne glass, swirling it. "Are we celebratin' somethin'?"
Max gulped. "Yeah, I think so."
They stared at each other. Jules cleared his throat. "And we're toasting to...?"
"Oh! Uh... To my best friend. Who's also, like, the best dude I know, no holds barred."
Perhaps it was the lighting, the foreignness of the situation, Max's recent blush, or the way Max couldn't seem to keep his hands out of his hair this evening, but Julian felt incredibly touched by this statement. "Thanks, man. Fuck. I toast to my best friend, too. And his fat wallet."
They both grinned, clinking and downing the drinks. They met eyes immediately after, both alight. "Holy fuck that's good." Max exclaimed.
"Man, you know I hate drinkin' and all, but this shit is delicious."
"I've been drinkin' nasty ass jungle juice for so long. I forgot alcohol could taste... good."
"Shit, man, I don't think it's ever tasted this good."
Max evaluated, then nodded. "You're right. This shit is unparalleled."
Julian stifled a laugh. "Unparalleled? Are you a fuckin' English major now?"
"Simply embracing my roots." Max replied in a poncy voice, pretending to twist a mustache.
They both cackled, garnering a few looks from other patrons, but they didn't care. The air was returning to normal.
~~~
Half a bottle of champagne wasn't enough to get either boy effectively trashed, but by the time their "social plate" of seared mushrooms had been devoured and their Hong Kong beef brisket was en route, they both felt deliciously tipsy.
Jokes prove infinitely funnier when loud laughing is frowned upon. Jules had tears leaking from his eyes. "He— he fuckin'— called her—"
"What?!" Max gasped in reply, shaking from the effort of not exploding with laughter. "And he didn't—"
"No!" Jules quickly supplied. "He forgot to ask!"
They dissolved in silent giggles. Max choked out, "Lenny is a fuckin' imbecile, dude!"
"I know, man! Wicked stupid!"
They took deep breaths in unison, trying to calm down and blend with the formal air of the restaurant, but each flash of eye contact was like a new inside joke that came with uncrushable laughter. Ten minutes lapsed before they managed to calm down.
Julian was the one who brought them back to seriousness, his face dropping without warning. "What?" Max prodded.
"Why did you bring me here?" The buzz removed all filters. "You didn't talk to me all week. Now you want to spend a hundred bucks on my stupid ass. What's with that?"
"I needed time to think."
Julian's stomach dropped. "The fuck does that mean?"
"Hong Kong beef brisket!" The waitress said, suddenly cutting in, laying magnificent plates in front of each boy. "It's hot, so exercise caution. Enjoy!"
Julian's mouth watered from the smell. "Oh, shit."
"Oh, shit." Max repeated with matched intensity.
And both of them ripped in like the starving college students they were, all thoughts of etiquette thrown to the wind, feasting in silence for twenty minutes.
~~~
author's note: hey yall! i know i said this would be the last part, but i ended up writing way more than i thought i would and had to split it between two parts, oops! but i'm uploading it all at once, i made everybody wait long enough <3 thank you so much for enjoying this story and these characters that mean the world to me!!