𝚒'𝚖 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 //private// 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢

Atticus listened to the tale with interest. Had he been in the young mans place, having run off on his own and expected to fend for himself, he surely would have died. That much was a fact. Roman was tougher than him and the man nodded, occasionally making a noise to show that he was still listening as his eyes watched the road. So Tristan had more or less been a good friend, that was good on his part. I think he was the faded red head. Atticus wanted to ask why he had run away and what he was doing at the time before he started racing but the man held his tongue. That was on a need to know basis and right now, he did not need to know. If Roman wanted to share that much, he would leave him to do it on his own. “So you’re a natural”, Atticus finally replied and smiled though he didn’t take his eyes from the road ahead. “I saw your bike, once, the first day you were at the office. It’s nice.” It was nicer than nice but that was all he could think of. “And you built it yourself?”

“A yellow tie? I wouldn’t begin to know where to find one.” He smirked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Atticus could barely see Roman from the far right side of it. “No old expects that to be my color. No one even knows aside from you. I bet I seem more like a man who likes black. Or red. Red is an angry color and I feel like you probably associated that with me from the beginning.” He gave the hand he held a light, playful squeeze. “Hows about this. You help me find a bright, in-your-face tie and i’ll wear it to the office. Just for you.” Boy, that would make Jessica look at him, wouldn’t it? “Deal?”

The man chucked at the admittance that Roman felt cooped up in his SUV. “Dont worry, i’ll free you soon.” While it had been amusing at the race to see someone fall or almost fall, Atticus didn’t want to be on the other end. Road rash from the black asphalt or grey concrete didn’t appeal to him and he didn’t really feel like leaving chunks of his flesh on either of them. “Ill take you up on that offer but i’m going to be squeezing the life out of you, just as a warning.”

Atticus glanced up at the sky when Roman did. The first rain was falling and it was still breezy. It did feel nice out but he was one of those people who didn’t like to get soaked even though he enjoyed the rainfall. “I wouldn’t mind it”, he replied while leading Roman inside. When he opened the door, he was hit with the wonderful scent of garlic bread, one of his favorites. Atticus breathes in deeply as he smiled at the hostess. “Mr. Jones!”, the girl said happily and reached for him. “Right this way!” He followed her and turned to Roman with a playful smirk. “See? I’m kind of a big deal...”, Atticus teased. He held Roman’s hand as he followed. Occasionally he would catch the eye of a party he knew is someone he was acquainted with. They were surprised and Atticus smiled. When the girl had showed them their table and left with the promise of their serving soon making an appearance, he let go of Roman’s hand to move and pull his chair out for him.

”Well your bike looks amazing regardless.” Atticus tried to picture it in his mind again but he hadn’t gotten that good of a look at it. He was surprised to hear that Tristan had been the one to paint it though he had done a good job, too. “And I think you’re a great racer. This time when I come to watch you, I won’t have to hide behind some silly glasses or giant coat. I thought I fit it good at the time but now that i think about it, i stuck out like a sore thumb.” The man looked thoughtful again and thought back to the way he had looked in the mirror when sliding the glasses onto his face. Atticus now knew he had looked like a kid who decided to dress themselves without the help of mom or dad. He looked back and and shook his head at Roman. “You don’t have to apologize for that. I was just generally unhappy with everyone, trust me. There are a lot of people who i’m surprised didn’t wring my neck because of the things i’ve said.” Atticus caught the statement, though barely. His expression softened and he couldn’t help but run his thumb along the racers hand again. “I think... We’re on our way there already, don’t you?”

Atticus returned the same shy smile but didn’t press it. “Then I look forward too it.” All of his suits were dark, he knew that and most of his ties were, too. Atticus swore there was a red one buried in there someone but it would take weeks to sift through his hearty collection of blue, grey, black and pinstriped ties to even find it. That would take too long. He felt something like a rush of affection when the young man laughed. It was a sound he had quickly grown fond of and it grew every time he heard it. “Ill have to keep that in mind”, the man replied with a laugh. Atticus could keep that in mind for a lot of things, especially given the fact that he was the biggest cuddled he knew and his pillow at home just didn’t do that job. He had slept alone for far too long and with the way things seemed to be going, hopefully with all fingers crossed, that would change with time.

The kiss to his cheek pulled another smile from Atticus. They were endless now and he liked that. He caught Roman around the waist and held him for a moment until he was down on the floor again. “Anything to make you smile....”, the man murmured. Over the younger mans shoulder, he saw one of his acquaintances shoot him a surprised yet disturbed look and he only smiled again. The anxiety would not work it’s way out of him and ruin the first date he had had in years. Atticus remembered what he had been told about being confident and proud of who he was when it came to his sexuality and repeated the words to himself firmly. He took his own seat soon after and grabbed the menu with a soft thank you to Roman. Atticus flipped it open. Every time he came here he ordered the same thing so opening the menu was highly unnecessary on his part but sometimes he thought he would order something new. It never happened. Over the top of his menu, Atticus admires the racer again, his gaze traveling from his hair down the shirt around his chest and shoulders before catching the way Roman looked. Was he squinting?

“Do you need help?”, Atticus offered quietly. He wouldn’t mind helping if need be he was aware some people were sensitive about things like that and he didn’t want to upset Roman. “Or is there anything you want to know they’ve got?” As he spoke the server made her way up. She was young, perhaps sixteen and Atticus knew this had to be her first job. “Hello!”, she said brightly. The name tag on her shirt read Emily. “I’m Emily, i’ll be helping you two out tonight. Is there anything I can start you off with and i’m assuming it will be separate checks.” Atticus smiled at her and shook his head. “Hello, Emily. And no, it will be on one check and I would just like water with lemon. Roman?” It would’ve have been polite if Atticus had been able to order for him but she had come up too quick.

”I’m beginning to love that...”, Atticus murmured, his head instinctively tipping to the side again at the soft peck under his ear. The sensitive skin tingled again and another shiver passed through the man. Yeah, this was something he could get used too and it could only come from Roman. No one else would do it the right way. I’ve already fallen for him and I know it. Without a doubt, Atticus knew it. How he had been able to go so long without this he would never know and it was nothing short of a miracle. He hugged Roman close but let him go soon after. The hostess was waiting with a tiny smile on her face. It probably wasn’t the first time she had had to wait on a couple- or two people out on a first date- to finish their moments of affection before being able to seat them. Atticus flashed her a small smile and gave a quick, apologetic nod.

The blush that crossed the young racers face made him smile little more. It was cute despite the reason it was there. “I’m here if you need me.” Atticus wouldn’t push himself on Roman. He had told them on their first meeting about his dyslexia and how much he struggled with it. Atticus wished he could take back the hateful remarks he had made that day and the next morning. Switching his attention back to his menu, he raised a hand to trail it down the items, pausing on every other to read what it was. Some seemed good, other, not so much. Like the snails. Why were they even listed? Weren’t they French? Atticus scowled at that. He looked up when their waitress left again, this time with the words that she would be right back. Though he was in no hurry to rush this night. Over head, he could hear the rumble of thunder, distant over the chatter and general noise of the restaurant. When he looked back down, he saw the small hand stretched towards him. Atticus took it with a smile. He turned his attention back to his menu even though he already knew what he wanted because he didn’t want to sit there and wait, possibly making Roman feel like he was rushed. Atticus looked over the desserts while he waited.

Around his he heard someone murmur his name and Atticus frowned and turned. There was someone he knew. Not a friend nor an acquaintance and if he were being honest, Atticus wasn’t fond of the woman at all. Spurring her advances did nothing to her. She thought she was God’s gift to men. He rolled his eyes when she stood up and walked over. “Nice to see you again, Atticus”, she said sweetly. The man clearly frowned at her and only nodded. The less he spoke, the quicker she would leave. “Its been such a long time. How have you been? How’s the club business? And who is thi-...” A sharp click of his tongue shut her up and if it hadn’t, his harsh words would have. “I suggest you leave us be, ma’am.” The woman looked to him and frowned, mirroring the expression that Atticus had on his face before she shouldered her purse and stalked off. He ran his thumb lovingly along the side of Roman’s hand when he looked back. “Some people don’t know when they’re not wanted.”

At the shy request, Atticus let go of Roman’s hand and nodded. He slid from his side of the high booth- they were more comfortable than the hard chairs- and slid to the side where Roman was. The waitress brought their drinks back as he sat down. “We’ll need just a minute please”, he told her politely as she slid the waters in front of them. She left a small bowl of sliced lemons on the table and left. “And of course i’ll help you”, Atticus said now that he was seated next to his date. He held the menu up between them with one hand and began by pointing to each item and reading the description below. He went down the left side of the menu, then the middle, listing off all of the sides, the salads and condiments and even telling the different ways certain items could be prepared. The third and final page of the trifold menu held the drinks and desserts. Those could wait.

”I love the pouring rain.” That was his favorite kind of weather, favored even more than snow and winter. Atticus as a kid had loved to sit on the old front porch with his grandmother and watch. That seemed like such a long time ago now. “Thunderstorms are...iffy. I don’t mind lightning and a little thunder, like it is now, but when it gets the booming thunder that shakes my house and rattles my window, I get nervous.” Not to mention it sent his kitten into a fearful frenzy and he would have to chase her down. “I guess you could say they scare me a little but i’m always alone so I guess that’s normal.” It was his normal and he shrugged. No one knew he had that small fear of the harsh weather, no one except for the young man sitting across from him but that was fine. Atticus felt fine opening up to him. “Now when you get into the tornadoes and hurricanes and those things... Oh, what are they called... Typhoons? No... Tidal wave.” That was it. Atticus shook his head. While it wasn’t weather specially, it was a definite no-go for him. “I’m out.”

Atticus allowed his gaze to follow the woman until he was sure she was gone. Only then did he turn back to Roman and sigh. “She is Amelia. I don’t know her last name. I met her at the opening of my club over past the courthouse and fancy dog racing tracks. Do you know that place? Well I met her there and she was more or less throwing herself at me. Now, you’re the only one who knows about me and...”, he paused to grab one of the lemons and squeeze its juices into his water. He continued while stirring. “She kept on and on. You’d think she would get the hint that I wasn’t interested and I had to have her escorted from the property. He isn’t allowed at any of my places.” Amelia was just another spoiled little girl who had had everything handed to her and Atticus wanted nothing to do with that. He waved his hand to dismiss her. It wasn’t important.

Another laugh, much like the ones Atticus had let loose before, sounded again and he leaned towards Roman. “Well maybe i’ll take you back to my place later and whip out the phone book”, he teased quietly. Atticus really didn’t mind helping at all. It was Roman and if he needed help, the man would do anything he needed too to get to him and help, even if he tripped or stumbled along he way. “You know I don’t mind helping. Just snap your fingers and i’m here.” He could feel Roman’s hand even more through the coat he wore and he liked that too. Should he flex? He had told Roman he went to the gym before. No, dont, you’re not eighteen anymore Atticus reminded himself. Still, maybe Roman would have liked it but he refrained.

Around the time Roman was telling Atticus what he wanted, the young Emily returned, pen in hand. “I think we’re ready now”, he said without glancing at her. The small puff of air that followed her had carried the scent she had before and he knew it was her. “He’ll have the spaghetti with the garlic bread and... I think i’ll take the homemade lasagna though you can leave off the chunks of tomatoes. I don’t care for those.” Emily scribbled it down and took their menus before hopping off to put the order in. Roman letting go of his arm made his glance over. Did he want him to move? Atticus didn’t particularly want to go back to his lonely side of the high booth and hopefully the racer would mind his staying seated next to him.

Atticus was caught off guard by the question. They had covered the basics and there was a whole different side of him that Roman shouldnt know about. He didn’t need to know about it. It was safer to keep him in the dark and what Roman didnt know wouldn’t hurt him, right? It wouldn’t be a lie if Atticus never brought it up. “Well, my mother loved about an hour north of here. My dad passed when I was younger, maybe around fifteen or so, he was sick. I have a brother, Derrick, he’s a little older than me but we don’t talk much.” Atticus didn’t know where he was. “I grew up way up north, like way far where you have chains on tires just to get out in the winter. I moved down here a few years ago, met a girl, had a baby a-...” He stopped and cleared his throat. That year wasn’t something he was ready to talk about. “Forgive me, Roman, I can’t talk about that, not right now.” As he spoke, he pressed closer to the younger man and put an arm around him. Roman was comfort. “I got lucky one night while I was out and acquired one of my clubs. It was successful, you know the rest but if you really wanna know about me...”

Again, Atticus paused. His slip-up had knocked him off his feet and he tried to get back up with a smile. “Ive always thought love was stupid. Affection, stupid. Laying awake and wondering what someone was doing, if they were okay was stupid. Kissing in public and holding hands? Touching?” He shivered and gagged as if it were the most disgusting thing he had heard of. “And then I met you.” Atticus planted a soft kiss to Roman’s temple. “And you’ve turned everything I believed in upside down.”

”I don’t know. I’m sure there are some people who would open a folding chair in their garage and watch the weather from there.” Atticus would never do it himself. While he did like to watch the weather, he preferred to do it from the safety and warmth of his own home. Even if they were, it wouldn’t matter to him because when Atticus got first word of something like that heading his way, he would be gone. “Best vibes don’t even begin to describe that woman...”, he went on in a soft mutter and shook his head. Atticus reached for his glass and took another sip of the water inside. How inconvenient it had been for her to be at this place the one he finally ventured out. Again the man sighed.

The nudge Roman delivered caught him in his side and Atticus looked over with a surprised expression on his face. “Is that right?” For a man such as himself- bland, maybe a little stuck up - he certainly had a very vivid imagination and that comment sent it into overdrive. Atticus was only a man, he couldn’t help himself. A shy, nervous laugh left him and he reached up to tug the collar of his shirt. A comment like that might not have had much affect had it come from someone else, especially Amelia, and in fact, Atticus knew it wouldn’t have. He didn’t smoke for anyone except Roman and it didn’t come as a surprise when the wheels in his head kicked in. Atticus swallowed and shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders while a wave of heat settled over him. “I’ll have to take you up on that one day. I think I could keep myself up for that”, the man finally replied when his nerves had settled back down. Atticus let the jacket fall and crumple behind him. It was fine there.

Atticus appreciated the squeeze to his arm and he looked at Roman was a soft look on his eyes. “I do want to tell you, I will. Just not right now. This date is about us, not my past”, he commented and squeezed the racer around the waist where his arm had come to a rest. “I guess... I don’t want that, or anything from my past, to change how you feel about me.” That was as simple as he could put it. The man glanced at his glasses and saw that the lemon he had squeezed had dropped one of its white seeds under his ice. That was inconvenient. When the young man slid closer, closing what few centimeters remained between them, Atticus leant down and kissed the top of his head. Roman was comforting again he appreciated it more than he would say that the racer hadn’t pressed anything he had said. His past and the part of his life that was kept from everyone was there in his mind but that was something he wasn’t ready for either. Atticus thanked everything above that Roman wasn’t a nosy man like he was.

“And it only took you two days. Who would have thought. Took me years to build that wall and in two days, you’ve torn it down.” Not that he minded. It felt wonderful to open up to someone that wasn’t his kitten who didn’t even understand him. It felt good to have someone want him and want to listen to him. Atticus couldn’t have gotten this at a never time. “They usually don’t take too long here to cook the food... Do you like wine?” There were a few tables around them that had bottles, Atticus could see them in the dim lighting of the restaurant. “I thought about getting a bottle for us but I didnt know if you actually liked it.”Atticus was a bit of a wine connoisseur, even if he said so himself but is head of saying that, he simply smiled.

Old man! Atticus lifted a brow at him and scoffed. “Old man?”, he repeated, “Old man. Why, I beg your pardon but you can rest assured that I will zero problems keeping up.” The older man looked to him with a smirk, the fingers of his free hand moving to rap on the table in front of them. Atticus was younger than most people, even more so considering how successful he had become and knew without a shadow of doubt that he was far from looking old. But he would humor Roman. “I don’t know... Sometimes my shoulder pops out of place when I stretch and my knee does give out every now and then. Are you prepared to care for me in about five years when i’m falling apart?” He gave the racer the same teasing, joking tone that he had been given before. The squeak pulled another laugh from him. Atticus hadn’t realized he had squeezed Roman enough to pull that sound out of him but it was amusing. “You sounded like a balloon letting out that last puff of air when it’s squeezed”, Atticus grinned.

At the words, the mans smile fell a bit. There was a lot that Roman didn’t know, didn’t need to know and that worried him the most. But if Roman could look past that, as well as if rocky past, then they would be okay. Right? “Ive got it”, he commented quietly. The smile that had fell jumped right back up at the happy hum that came next. “Your gorgeous face?” Atticus made it a point to study the young mans face, even reaching up with a finger to trace the jawline he had hated so much when the two had first met. “I don’t know... Maybe it was that piercing I couldn’t resist. Mhmm, I bet you didn’t know I knew that. That crop top didn’t hide much.” Atticus hadn’t complained then and he wasn’t complaining now. It was attractive. Unusual and attractive. “Really though, you’re gorgeous.” Atticus took the chance to gaze around them at the other occupants. It wasn’t busy, not yet, but he could see more and more people coming in by two’s and three’s. Emily, the waitress, zipped by at one point and caught his eyes though she merely smiled. As he looked back, he felt a pang of hunger hit him.

So Roman was only twenty? That was news. Atticus shifted his weight, moving the jacket out from under his tailbone where it had chosen to situate itself. “You're younger than me. I’m twenty-four. Soon to be twenty-five, actually.” Man, he really was getting old, now that he said it out loud. “But i’ll get us a bottle. You’re with me, i’m not letting anything happen to you and if you do get a little tipsy, you can stay with me until you’re sober again.” That sounded like a grand plan. Atticus smiled and raised his hand to flag down Emily as she came back by. She looked at him and pointed back in the direction of the kitchen. Atticus assumes that meant she was going for their food. Ah well, he could order the wine when she came back.

When the time comes, indeed. Atticus smirked but said nothing more on the subject. He knew himself well enough and knew that if he continued on poking fun at the situation, he would slip up and embarrass himself. It had happened once, years ago and he would have been lying if he said it hadn’t bothered him. Atticus was a confident man but when he became embarrassed it was impossible to hide. “Will you, now? You’ll be my seeing eye boy then. Sound good to you? My eyes are awful, too, so by then I might be three quarters of the way blind.” Contacts were a blessing and he never took them for granted. Atticus did the best he could with the vision card he had been dealt though when it came to his glasses, it was a no. They stayed tucked away in his dresser drawer. “Surprised, were you? I think that was probably the tenth time i’ve squeezed you since... Well, you already know.” His arms had been a round that slim waist their fair share since that morning, they knew the routine. “I enjoy it. Perhaps you should get used to it”, Atticus suggested, giving him that same old dimple-showing smirk.

The flush of those cheeks armed his heart. “Not a problem at all. In fact, I think it’s seriously attractive. I love it.” Piercings and tattoos weren’t for him. Atticus wasn’t a fan of needles nor willingly having them pierce his body- he didn’t like inflicting pain on himself without reason - and would gladly take up the fetal position before allowing one to prod him. He remembered brushing it earlier that day. The metal had been warm against his hand but the man hadn’t registered it at the time. Now, he remembered where it resided. “I like it. It’s... edgy, unusual. I really like it.” Again, it wasn’t for Atticus and even if he had gotten something like that done, there was no way he would have been able to pull it off quite like Roman. “Trust me, okay?” He loved it and wanted to see it another time.

“I know, I know. I act like a fifty year old man but i’m really twenty four.” Atticus rolled his eyes as far back as he could. He didn’t act like most guys his age- partying, drinking and experimenting with substances or starting families- and knew it made him appear older than he was. Roman hadn’t been the first to say that and he certainly wouldn’t be the last. “I told you I take care of those I care about.” He leaned into the younger mans touch on his face and smiled. Again, his irrational fear of public displays of affection threatened to work its way back out and it wasn’t even a struggle to ward it off this time. Atticus wanted this. Who the hell cared if Roman touched him and anyone who did choose to share their negative opinion would catch his balled up fist to their face. That had happened too, once.

“Thank you...”, Atticus replied quietly. Roman’s words and the smell of the fresh food Emily had just sat down in front of them pulled him back to reality. He hadn’t heard her come back but did give her a smile. “You needed something a moment ago, didn’t you?” Smart girls, remembering the way he had tried to flag her down. She was well on her way to a good tip. “A bottle of wine please. Something sweet, it doesn’t matter it is. Price doesn’t matter.” Again, she hopped off and Atticus pulled his arm out from around Roman to grab the silverware he had left rolled in the thick napkin on the other side of the table. “It smells good. What do you think?” Atticus cast a glance at the hot plate full of food that had been slid in front of Roman.

”Sounds like a great deal to me.” What better way to reward Roma than with that? Atticus smiled. If there had been space between them, he would have pulled him closer and closed it but that had already been done. “I do have contacts. I have my contacts in right now, actually. If you look close enough, you can see a faint clearish blue around my iris. That’s the contact.” Atticus had been thrilled when he had finally been able to get them years ago and now he was rarely caught in his glasses. He really never was. They stayed tucked where they were in his bedroom. “I do have glasses but I don’t wear them much. Maybe for an hour before I go to bed- I don’t sleep in contacts -but then I take them off again.” The man hated the way he looked in them. Aside from the fact that he just generally didn’t like they looked on his head, they were thick. The bottom of a coke bottle thick. Atticus wouldn’t be caught dead out in public with them on. Maybe one day he would put them on for Roman but it was unlikely.

“You don’t have to get used too it.” That wouldn’t keep things fresh, for him at least, and the man smiled. “I think it will take me a long time to get used to being with someone that isn’t my cat.” His gaze trailed down to where he knew the piercing was even though he really couldn’t see the lower half of Roman due to the table. But he knew it was there. “I don’t have anything pierced. I’ve kind of wanted a tattoo for awhile but I don’t think I could sit there and get one and leave with my man card still intact.” It was best to be honest. “Needles aren’t my thing but it looks good on you.” It had slipped his mind to begin with it. Atticus’s mind and hands had been busy elsewhere when he had passed over it but maybe he would be able to see it again. “But I don’t mind surprising you with a squeeze every now and then”, the man went on. The soft squeak of puff of air, as he compared it too, was too cute.

Atticus looked to the racer with a mouthful of food at the thanks and only smiled, his cheeks poking out like a hamster who had stuffed its own cheeks with seeds. His own meal was good but the spaghetti smelled better. Maybe they could get that next time, if there was a next time. When he swallowed the chewed food, Atticus reached for his water and sipped it. As he did, Emily returned with a dark bottle in her hands and she held it out towards him. Two wine glasses were pinched between her fingers. “Cabernet Sauvignon”, he read when he took it from her. In her hand she held one of the little corkscrews that he took himself. It was a sweet red wine that Atticus would have never been able to spell. Winding the silver screw down into the soft fork, he yanked it out easily and filled both glasses halfway before passing one over to Roman. “Try it.” Atticus didn’t think that he may have already had it but he smiled regardless and sipped from his own. It actually paired nicely with what he was eating.

”It really isn’t that bad. The first time I had them it took almost an hour to get one of them in because, well it was the first time. But after a week or so I was able to pop them in no problem.” Every now and then they would flip around as he was cleaning them and Atticus knew it, especially when they would begin the obnoxious itch in his eye. He had to clean and push them right side out after that but it didn’t happen often. “I don’t think I look very cute. You’ll laugh at me when you see how thick they are.” Atticus had put in orders for them to be shaved down as much as he could but they hadn’t done it. Now, if someone were eyeing him from the side, they would see the inch-thick lenses that corrected his vision. When he looked back to the young racer, Atticus laughed. “I guess I can handle that for a bit. But you have to promise to give it back to me as soon as we’re done so I can feel like a man while wiping the tears away.” He knew he could do it after that.

Atticus glanced up with a smirk at the comment but didn’t respond as he finished pouring the first of the two glasses. He took his own glass and sipped from it. The wine was passed between both cheeks before he swallowed. It was definitely sweet, aged better than the last one he had had. “I thought you would like it.” There was something attractive about Roman drinking, even if he was underage. Maybe that was it. Another smile crept onto his face at the kiss but he went back to eating. Atticus hadnt realized how hungry he actually was until he started eating. For a few minutes he began lost in every bite he took and every now and then would dump a little extra salt onto his plate and stir it up. When he blinked and looked back up he caught the odd motion of Roman touching his chest. Atticus followed his gaze but nothing or no one liked off to him. “Are you okay?”, he questioned quietly and touched his hand.

Maybe his food wasn’t the bed or a meatball had been undercooked. Had the wine caused a headache? Atticus kept medicine in his vehicle specifically for that reason. “Do you feel okay?” It didn’t occur to him that maybe something else in the room had triggered him.

”I don’t know. Once you see me, you might fall out in the floor.” Atticus knew he didn’t look that but the reflection in his mirror usually tried to convince him otherwise. “Thanks though.” There was a pretty big chance that he still wouldn’t wear them and if by the off chance that Roman were to stay over or at least stay late if things continued as they were, he would keep the contacts in until he left. Or until they became itchy and uncomfortable. It would be one or the other. “A little something in return?” A curious brow raised itself and the man eyed the racer. “What are some examples, if I may ask? And if you dont want to give it back then that means I have to take it. Just so we’re clear.” Atticus smirked and sipped again on the sweet red wine. Honey? The smirk twitched while it tried to grow into a wide smile. His thought process had been that he would be the one with the first pet name but this was good too. “Honey. I like that.”

Atticus doubted that was true but he didn’t say so. Roman was still mysterious , in way, despite everything he already knew about him. It wasn’t much but it was enough. As he ate he would occasionally glance over Roman from the corner of his eye. What was he thinking? Was he enjoying this? Atticus hadn’t been on a date in what seemed like years. This was knew to him too and he felt just as awkward now- though it was receding some- as he had on his first date ten years ago. Some things didn’t change but this was nicer than that had been.

The mood was changed as Atticus looked over his shoulder. He had seen the man with the green shirt on at the first glance but hadn’t given him much thought. There wasn’t much to him and he looked like he had touched a barbell in years. That may have been his own opinion. It didn’t change after Roman informed him of just who the man was. “Thats him”, he said with the cool toned voice of someone that very easily lose their temper. Hmm. Atticus thought back to the raised burn marks on the younger mans chest and felt a surge of anger. Again, he turned and looked at the man in the green shirt. Roman had said he should focus on it. Didn’t say Atticus should focus on it, did he?

For a moment he thought of leaving the high booth and going over for a chat. But where would that lead him? A bar fight in a restaurant he frequently attended? Atticus knew people here, they would talk. He was a pariah in their city and if people talked, people became nosy. Nosy wasn’t good for him. Then there was Roman. I can’t ruin this for him. Eventually he righted himself in the booth and put an arm back around Roman. “Don’t worry about him. If he tries to come near you, i’ll handle it.” Atticus left a kiss on the side of his head and picked his fork up once again.