Moments

Taxicab Confessions

The jacket is powder blue.

Isak has never seen this color before, not on a human being. Yet, somehow, Even succeeds in pulling it off. If anything, he looks like some sort of 1930s, Hollywood film star. His hair is exceptionally styled, even for him, and the crisp, white shirt he's wearing underneath the corduroy jacket looks like it had been starched to within an inch of its life. Even his jeans have been creased.

ISAK: I didn't realize the dinner was so, uh, formal.

Even blinks a hundred times before frowning. He gives Isak a quizzical look before taking in his own appearance.

EVEN: Formal? You think this is formal?

ISAK: Well, it's definitely more formal than I was expecting.

Isak has gone for a nice, gray button-down and the cleanest, least faded pair of jeans he owns. He's also forgone his usual snapbacks and hoodies for a bomber jacket. He'd thought that adding a scarf would make him look more put-together, but standing across from Even, Isak feels severely under-dressed.

EVEN: You look fine.

ISAK: [rolls his eyes] Even, you look like a goddamned runway model. Well, more like a runway model than usual. Hang on, I have a suit jacket around here somewhere.

Isak turns to his small wardrobe. He rarely has the need for anything dressy, so his one, good suit hangs neatly at the back, covered in plastic.

He feels Even's presence behind him as he fishes it out.

EVEN: You own a suit?

ISAK: [removing the plastic from the dry cleaner] I got it when my grandfather passed away.

EVEN: [voice softening] Oh.

Even's hands land on Isak's shoulders, offering a brief squeeze of consolation.

EVEN: I'm sorry.

ISAK: [shrugs, leaning a little into Even's space] It was a while ago, but thanks.

He removes the jacket from the hanger and shakes it out. The lightweight wool feels foreign to his fingertips, so used to cotton jersey and denim. But the rich, navy blue compliments his outfit well.

Even holds it while Isak slips his arms into the sleeves, the soft swish of the sateen lining cool against his hands.

EVEN: [steps back, admiring him] Wow.

ISAK: [grins shyly] Yeah?

EVEN: [drinking him in] Definitely.

Isak smiles and grabs his scarf, ready to go, but Even just stares. At first, Isak thinks his boyfriend is still checking him out, but he soon realizes that Even is stalling.

ISAK: Are we biking it?

EVEN: [startled out of his trance] Uh, no. Taxi.

ISAK: It's not that far, is it?

EVEN: [bites his lip] Uh...no. Not far. But I'd prefer not to arrive all wrinkled and sweaty.

ISAK: [nods] Whatever you want.

EVEN: [small smile] Thanks.

He still doesn't make a move to turn around and head for the door.

ISAK: Are you nervous about tonight?

EVEN: I...uh... [he starts to speak, closes his mouth, starts again, stops, pressing his lips into a thin, white line.] Let's go.

Even turns quickly and walks out, Isak has to jog to catch up.