The Blind Date (PHAN)

The Blind Date

"Shit," Dan mumbled as he looked at the clock. It was 7:30, and he had yet to fix his hair, decide what to wear, and drive to the restaurant. Leave it to his chronic procrastination to get the best of him on a night like tonight. As he heated up his flat iron, he couldn't help the sweat of his palms or the nervous torrent of butterflies that churned within his stomach. Running the hot iron through his dark wavy hair, he sent a silent thanks to God that his date wouldn't have to see him with his natural Hobbit Hair.
Blind date, he thought, cringing to himself. To Dan, blind dates seemed like one of those lame things your friends set you up on when they thought you were going to die alone or become a crazy cat person. He still had no idea why he'd agreed to Louise's request to meet with this stranger, albeit with great reluctance. While he was churning with nerves, a part of him, he had to admit, was excited to go. Granted, the nervousness far outweighed the excitement, but he was still anxious to meet this "dashing, hilarious" guy that Louise had described.
His eyes flicked back to the clock, 7:46. Fuck! He hurriedly unplugged the straightener and thrust open his closet, emerging with dark pants, a white button up with moth patterns, and his coat. Hell, he even pulled out a tie, just to look extra spiffy. Luckily the restaurant they were meeting at wasn't too far away, but he'd have to hurry nonetheless. Dragging on his pants, Dan snatched his keys off the table and rushed out the door.
x
Dan checked his watch, which lazily blinked back at him. It was 8:06. He was only six minutes late, but he hoped his date didn't think he was getting stood up. Dan cringed at the thought. Hurriedly, he jogged up to the front of the restaurant, where outside emblazoned in bold letters was the title, "Clarke's."
He paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath and wiping his sweaty palms on his pants before pushing open the heavy wooden door. You can do this Dan, he thought. Just stay cool.
When he stepped inside, Dan was taken aback by the overall... fanciness of the restaurant. By the front was a small fountain, rivulets of water rushing over stones and back into a large basin at the bottom. The overall dark restaurant was illuminated with a series of fairy lights strung around the ceiling and from the wax-dripping candles resting on each table. Couples in dresses and ties leaned in close over the tables, caressing each others hands while waiters in dark shirts and white ties bustled about, carrying silver trays loaded with decadent and no doubt expensive food. Dan looked down at his own attire and blushed. He had no idea that Clarke's would be so upscale. At least you wore a tie Howell, he mumbled to himself.
He scanned the restaurant, searching for his date, but didn't have a lot to go off of. The only information Louise would concede except for how handsome and lovely he was was that his name was Alex, and he would be holding a red rose for Dan. He smiled at the thought, admitting that yes, the gesture was a bit charming.
Suddenly he spotted him, a young man sitting by himself at a table, a single rose laying beside him. As Dan approached cautiously, the man looked up from his phone and focused back on him, his expression unreadable.
"Hello," said Dan tentatively. "Are you Alex?"
"Indeed I am," said the boy, straightening his tie. "And you must be Daniel."
"Just Dan actually," he said with a slight smile. Alex did not smile back.
"Well," said Alex, gesturing towards the empty chair, "Have a seat then. You're a bit late, I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show."
Dan slunk into his chair, embarrassed. "I'm sorry about that, traffic and all..." he said lamely.
Alex gave him a tight lipped smile, "Yes, well no matter, you're here now. Let's have a look at the menu."
While Dan half-heartedly flipped through the menu, he shot glances at Alex, who was scrutinizing his own menu deep in thought. Louise was right, he was handsome. His thick brown hair was styled in a neat quiff, and his face was narrow and clean shaven. Dan watched his glassy blue eyes as the rolled over the menu. When he looked back at Dan, they had the same glazed look to them.
"Well I've decided what I'm getting." he stated.
Dan blinked and began flipping quickly through them menu, realizing he had been staring at Alex the whole time. "Well umm... the ah, fish... sounds alright."
Alex gave him a quizzical look, but just before he spoke, a waiter arrived at the table.
He was about their age, maybe a little older. He combed his hand through his dark hair before smiling and saying, "Hello! My name is Phil and I'm going to be your waiter tonight. Can I get you anything to drink to start?"
"Yes, I'll have a glass of your Thieriot Vineyard Chardonnay, he'll have the same."
He glanced at Dan, who closed his mouth, his request for just a glass of water dying at the back of his throat.
Phil scribbled in his notepad and flashed them both a wide grin. "Excellent choice sir, one of my personal favorites." he glanced up at Dan, his piercing sapphire eyes catching him by surprise. His eyes were warm and kind, and unlike Alex's, full of life. Dan vaguely wondered how that was possible, seeing as he worked as a waiter in what appeared to be a very snooty restaurant. Alex was... well... Dan wasn't quite sure what Alex did for a living, he'd have to ask. When Phil whisked away to fetch their drinks, Dan awkwardly tried to stimulate conversation.
"So, Alex..." he began. "Do you have a job? Are you in school?"
"Actually, I work in my father's law firm." He puffed up his chest a bit as he continued, "I graduated top of my class and was asked to join, quite a remarkable feat for a 26 year old."
"Ah," said Dan. Alex was more impressive than he thought. "I went to Uni for law for a bit, I ended up dropping out though, it wasn't really my thing." He smiled proudly as he continued, "I'm in school now though to get a degree in music. I play the piano you see."
Alex gave him a look of almost distain, "Really now? I hear it's very difficult to make a career in that." His arms folded across his chest reminding Dan of a stern parent, lecturing their child about their future.
Dan stared at his lap, "That's what they all tell me," he mumbled.
Before he had to think of something else to say, Phil materialized beside them, Chardonnay in hand. "Ready to order?" he asked politely, pen and paper in hand.
Alex began, stating "I'd like the filet mignon, done medium well, and make sure it's well done or I'll send it back." He took a long sip of wine and gestured towards the bottle. "And make sure to keep that coming."
"Not a problem sir," said Phil. He turned to Dan and poured him a tall glass of water, which he accepted gratefully. "And what would you like sir?" he asked kindly.
Just as he was about to speak, he was cut off by Alex, loudly interjecting "Oh, he'll just have a salad." He prodded Phil jokingly, "Nothing too expensive when I'm the one paying!"
Phil didn't smile back, but instead knitted his eyebrows together in concern. "Are you sure that's what you'd like tonight?" he questioned.
"I guess so," said Dan, offering an insincere smile.
Phil looked doubtful, but accepted it nonetheless without argument. He topped off Dan's glass of water and Alex's glass of wine and swept up their menus. "I'll have that right out for you," he said. When Alex looked away, he gave Dan a quick wink, and whisked away back into the kitchen.
Alex took another draw from his wine glass and set it down, rattling the table. He then launched into a detailed discussion about his position in the law practice, leaving Dan to conclude that Alex was indeed, a bit of a dick.
x
15 minutes later, Phil had returned carrying two silver platters. Dan was grateful not just for the food, but for something to interrupt Alex's long winded discussion about his job in his daddy's law firm. Ugh. There was a reason Dan had dropped out of law school, and it was because of the overwhelming realization that law was ridiculously boring. He could practically feel his eyes glaze over listening to him.
Phil set down Alex's platter and lifted the top of the tray, steam whooshing into the open air, revealing a tender and juicy slab of meat. Dan could feel his mouth water. With an almost pained expression in his eyes, Phil set down his platter and pulled off the top, revealing a mundane, slightly wilted salad. Dan looked down in disappointment and prodded a bloated cherry tomato. Delicious... he thought to himself. At least Alex was paying.
Phil looked quickly side to side, and when no one was watching, he slipped Dan another plate, this one covered in thick cut chips. Dan stared in awe at the steaming plate of potato goodness, but when he looked up to say thank you, Phil was gone. He'd left a small slip of paper under the plate with a smiley face written on it. His face burned red and he smiled at the thoughtful gesture, until a piercing voice brought him back to reality.
"Ugh!" Cried Alex, prodding his filet with a fork. "I specifically asked for medium well! This is medium rare!"
He glared at his plate and took another sip of wine. It was only then that Dan noted the sway in his stature and the slight, almost undetectable slur in his voice.
"Maybe they can re-cook it for you?" Dan suggested tentatively.
"Alex rolled his eyes, "Whatever, I'll be sure to just address my complaints to the waiter."
While Alex wolfed down his dinner despite the complaints, Dan focused more on the warm, savory plate of chips that Phil had snuck him. So far, the chips had been the best part of this date. He scowled at his plate, bitterly wishing that this date had been with Phil instead, because at least then, he'd have been offered chips instead of salad.
Almost as if on cue, Phil appeared, a wide grin plastered on his cheery face that made Dan's stomach flip. He touched a light hand to Dan's shoulder, who he felt his face ignite under the sensation. Embarrassed, he looked down at his wilted plate of lettuce.
"Everything tasting alright?" He questioned.
"Actually no," Alex butted in. "I specifically asked this to be medium well, and it was medium rare. Did you not write that down?"
Phil looked back at him, genuinely concerned. "Yes sir I did. I'm very sorry the kitchen's been very busy tonight, is there anything I can do for you to correct it?"
Alex glared at him angrily. "Well this obviously isn't going very well for you," he spat. "So no, thank you."
Phil's smile had melted off and was replaced with a look of mild irritation. His lips pressed together tightly and his eye twitched. "Obviously not sir," he said curtly.
"I expected better of this place," Alex snarled, "I can tell I won't be tipping well tonight." When he spoke, he waved his arm wildly, sloshing wine over the tablecloth and spilling drops onto Phil's shoes.
Phil's jaw clenched and his teeth ground together as he responded, saying "Anything else, sir?"
"Just the check please," Dan interjected quietly, before Alex could antagonize him any further. All he wanted to do at this point was go home. This was a heavy contender for one of the worst dates he'd ever been on. Thanks Louise, he thought bitterly.
Phil glanced back at Dan, eyes rife with apology as he topped off his water glass with a gentle hand. Dan gave him a light smile but couldn't meet his eyes. In other circumstances, he would have loved to immerse himself in Phil's bright blue eyes. They reverberated so much life and energy, and gosh... Dan could just go swimming in those eyes. But for now, he was tired, still hungry, and embarrassed from his date's drunken behavior. He just wanted to go home.
When Phil retreated to pick up the check, Alex turned towards him, dead eyes hungrily scanning up and down his body.
"S-so." He slurred slightly. "Where to? My house or yours?"
Dan stared at him, speechless.
Alex glared, leaning in close over the table. "C'mon Danny, I paid for your dinner, tell me you're not some sort of prude." He exhaled alcohol breath into Dan's face, "You owe it to me."
Dan pulled back, completely disgusted.
"How could you possibly expect me to want to have sex with you after you've been a complete douchebag all night?" he snapped. "I don't owe you shit."
Before he could stand to grab his coat, Alex lurched forward in his seat and grabbed tightly to his wrist, and Dan could only make feeble attempts to tug out of his tight grip.
"I want you Dan," he said harshly. "And I'm only going to ask one more time, my place, or-"
His words were suddenly drowned out by a cascade of icy water pouring on his head.
Dan blinked in shock and looked up to see a seething Phil hauling a soaking wet Alex up by the arms and dragging him towards the door. Phil's water pitcher lay empty, discarded on the floor.
"DON'T YOU FUCKING COME BACK HERE AGAIN YOU ASSHOLE," he roared at Alex's limp, intoxicated body. "I BETTER NOT CATCH YOU SAYING ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN! YOU HEAR ME?" He opened the door with a loud bang and threw Alex out on his ass, straight into the pouring rain. Dan caught one fleeting glance at Alex's disoriented and shivering figure before he quickly turned and heaved an entire filet mignon and countless glasses of wine into a bush.
Seconds later, Phil emerged, doused from the rain, face beet red and knuckles stark white. Scanning through the shocked and silent faces of customers, Phil's eyes met Dan's, and immediately softened. Before he could make a step towards him, the silence was punctured by the biting voice of a middle aged man, screeching, "LESTER, MY OFFICE, NOW!"
Phil looked down at the floor, hair dripping, as he trudged silently into the manager's office. The door closed with a quiet click and the restaurant immediately began to gossip in hurried whispers to one another about what had just transpired. Dan could only clutch his coat, sick with remorse for Phil.
Reaching into his wallet, he threw a couple Euros onto the table and rushed out of the restaurant, waiting for Phil. He'd wait all night in the rain if he had to, at least to say how sorry he was, along with how grateful he was for what Phil had done for him.
The rain's gentle drip had quickened, and fat drops falling from the sky gradually soaked through his clothes and wet his hair, which slowly began to curl at the edges. Great... he thought. Now the whole world can get a good look at Dan the Hobbit.
Pulling up his hood, he decided it didn't really matter. The dark streets were devoid of people, likely seeking refuge in their cozy flats or inside of shops. No one would notice.
He waited outside the front, counting the plinks of water dripping off the awning until finally, a figure emerged from the front of the store. It was Phil.
"Hey..." said Dan, taking cautious steps towards Phil. He turned, startled, but then saw that it was only Dan, dripping wet against the wall. His shoulders relaxed and he breathed a sigh of relief.
"I was afraid you were that asshole date of yours..." he confessed, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. "Then again, your voice is nicer and softer than his."
"Yeah... about that." said Dan rubbing the back of his head. He had no idea where to begin. "I just never got to say..." Phil looked up at him, blue eyes beaming. "Thank for the chips?"
Phil started laughing, a sweet, melodic sound that made him double over and clutch his sides. "I did not just get fired for that kind of appreciation, Dan," he burst, teasingly.
Dan's eyes flashed with concern, and he was immediately consumed by guilt. "They fired you? Phil, I can't even begin to explain how sorry-"
"Don't," Phil cut him off, still giggling. "Honestly I was looking for a new job anyways. For a bunch of rich people, they don't give nearly enough of a tip for me to pay my tuition."
He turned to Dan in all seriousness, and said quietly, "I'd have done it again if I had the choice. Except maybe this time I'd have pulled you away from that asshole and taken you out myself."
Dan's face burned and he shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. Phil was awfully close. Dan could see beads of rain water that was still pouring on them slip down his nose, the loose white tie peeking out of his coat. He smelled sweet and clean, like soap, and his breath was warm and minty. He leaned in closer to Dan and skimmed his hand lightly down the side of his face, fingers lacing through his quickly developing waves. Dan's heart fluttered, but for once, he felt he had a control over his nervousness.
"There has to be a way I can repay you," he murmured, leaning into Phil's cool fingers. "For everything."
Phil smiled and leaned in until they were only centimeters apart. "Dan," he whispered sweetly into his ear, "You don't owe me shit."
And with that, he laced his fingers through Dan's hair and pulled him in for a lingering kiss. It warmed him from the inside out so for a moment, he forgot he was standing, soaking wet in the rain. His hands trailed blindly along Phil's torso, running along his wet coat and wrapping around his back- he couldn't pull him close enough. Phil's fingers wrapped tightly into his hair, mussing it in every direction as he pressed in, an electric current coursing through him from Dan's touch.
A roar of thunder broke them apart, the deep sound jolting them to their bones. They looked up at the sky and saw a flash of light rip apart the sky, illuminating both their faces in the dark street.
"Jesus..." Dan murmured, taking in the depth of the storm. He looked back at Phil, who was smiling from ear to ear.
"So..." he teased over the torrent of rain descending on them. "My place or yours?"
He giggled at his own joke but stopped silent when Dan leaned in and whispered, "Mine."
Needless to say it was the best blind date Dan had ever been on.