Chapter Text
“All done, Johnny,” you say, tilting your head around the doorway to get a glimpse of him. He’s tidying up the dojo’s back room, stacking workout pads on the shelves, spraying disinfectant and wiping it down. The kids do a pretty good job of keeping it organized, but he cleans up after them once a week anyway, to be sure. (“Dojos are badass,” he always says, “but they shouldn’t smell like ass.” It makes you smile just to think of it.) He looks up at you, a half-smile on his lips.
“Yeah? How are we lookin’?”
“Pretty good! We’re on budget, even with taxes coming out last month. Starting the younger class has really increased profit.”
“Really? Can you show me what we’re workin’ with?”
“Sure. I’ve got the spreadsheet up in the office.”
He follows you out to the desk in the dojo office and peers over your shoulder at the numbers on the screen. “Damn,” he says, pleased with what he sees. “That’s all take home?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I already factored in paychecks for Miguel, Hawk, and Aisha, for their part time work with the younger kids. Like we discussed.”
“Great work!” he says, cheerful. “Hey, I’m about done here. Gonna hit the shower and change real quick, if you want a ride home?”
“Yeah, that would be great.”
While Johnny cleans up, you close out your spreadsheets, then check your phone. You’re trying not to look at the dating app you grudgingly downloaded a few weeks ago. It’s been nothing but discouraging. The only guys who’ve messaged you aren’t all that attractive or interesting, and the ones who look pretty hot have way too many red flags to pursue. They’re usually only looking for a quick fuck anyway, and that…well. That’s not really where you are. You shut off your phone and shove it into your pocket, frustrated. How you’re supposed to get to know someone, get comfortable enough to open up to them, when all they’re doing is waiting for sex, is beyond you. Online dating is daunting. Sometimes the single life feels like it’s your destiny, whether you like it or not.
“Hey,” Johnny says from the doorway. You look up and have to stop your mouth from dropping open.
He’s wearing a fresh black t-shirt and jeans, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. His golden hair and close-trimmed beard remain slightly damp, but fluffy from his quick towel-dry. Too bad there’s never anyone like him on your app. Then again, there’s not anyone like him anywhere.
You snap yourself out of it before he can make a joke about you staring. The last thing you need is Johnny realizing you have a crush on him. He’s the only real friend you have out here. “Hey. Ready to head out?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Well I remembered, you’ve got that date tonight, right? You want me to drop you off there, instead of at home? Maybe vet the guy, knock him around a little, make sure he’s gonna treat you right?” There’s a twinkle in his eye when he says it, and a flutter in your stomach from his cute little smile. You swallow, trying to chase it away.
“Not necessary. I canceled the date.” You can’t quite look at Johnny when you say it.
“What? Why?”
You make a face. “He, uhh…he wasn’t right for me.”
“He was an asshole, wasn’t he?”
You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile on your face. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
“They always are. You deserve better. And you’ll find it.” He heads out the office door. “Come on. I just had an idea.”
You follow him out and across the parking lot, where he unlocks his car to let you get in. When you’re both seated, you look over. “What’s your idea?”
“The dojo’s doing well. I think we should celebrate. Go get burgers and shakes. You can tell me more about your dating issues, if you want. I’m old, but I might have some ideas.”
You don’t really want to talk about the dating stuff with Johnny. It might get embarrassing to get into the details with him. Burgers and shakes sound great, though, and you’ve both been putting in loads of hard work to get the dojo running smoothly. Might as well have a little fun. As long as you can keep your crush on him a secret, it should be fine.
“Sounds like fun,” you say, and Johnny smiles.
“Alright. I know just the place.”
Johnny’s right about the diner. Their burgers and fries are on point, and the milkshakes have to be some of the best you’ve ever had. Granted, part of how good it is might be that you’re there with him. Spending time with Johnny is quickly becoming one of your favorite things to do. Talking with him is fun and easy, and never feels strained. He’s an all-around good guy.
“So,” he says, licking some ketchup from his fingertip. “What’s the problem you’re having with dating?”
“Have you ever used a dating app, Johnny?” You’d helped him switch to a smartphone not long after starting to work as the dojo’s receptionist and bookkeeper, and it seemed unlikely that he’d be on Tinder already, but it was worth an ask.
“Nah. It’s the good old-fashioned way for me.” Your chest twinged as you suddenly thought about Johnny dropping you off at home and going out to a bar, looking to pick up a one-night stand. It wasn’t your scene, but you found yourself wishing it was. In another life, maybe.
You nod. “Well…they kind of suck.”
“I bet,” he says, giving you a serious look. “Ever thought about meeting someone a different way? Joining a group to…do a hobby together, or something?”
You shrug noncommittally. “Not really. I haven’t met a lot of people since I’ve been out here, and I’m kind of shy about joining a group where everyone already knows each other. But even if I did…it’s the same problem.”
“And what’s that?” he asks, sincere concern on his face.
“The people out there looking to date, they’re not…they’re not patient.”
The crinkle in Johnny’s brow grows deeper. “Patient? What do you mean?”
Too late, you’ve realized that you’re stepping directly into embarrassing territory. But you’re committed at this point. It won’t be that bad; not like Johnny’s going to laugh at you.
“Most of them…well, you know. They’re out there looking to get laid. Even when you meet someone in person, they kind of…expect that. Or at least expect things to be leading to that, even if they say they’ll take it slow.”
He nods. “I hear it. So they’re bad at taking it slow enough for you? Don’t they know there’s nothing wrong with wanting to get to know someone first?”
You rub your hand across your forehead, frustrated with yourself for bringing this up. He doesn’t get it, because he doesn’t know your secret. “That should be true. I mean, it might be easier if I could focus on just making friends with people, and see if anything romantic ever comes up with someone I already know well. The problem is, everyone puts these relationships in boxes as soon as they start. Over here, it’s the relationships where sex and romance are on the table, over here, it’s not. You’re one or the other, right from the start. When you leave that door open, even if you say you want to take it slow, people still kind of expect that…you know…that you’ll get to the sex eventually.”
“Well, I mean, eventually…” he trails off, watching you for a sign of agreement, but you don’t give one. You just keep a steady gaze on him, hoping he won’t make you say it.
“I…can’t guarantee that,” you finally say.
His eyes narrow, like he’s trying to figure out what you mean, then widen just a little before he tries to cover his reaction. “Wait, are you saying you’ve never…”
You blush hard and drop your gaze to your hands. “I never really got around to it. And now it feels like this huge hurdle, this huge deal, that’s kind of holding me back. Like if I’d already done that before, maybe I wouldn’t be so worried about trying it with whoever. But since I haven’t, it’s kind of…consuming.”
Johnny doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t tease or joke about it. His gaze on you stays gentle, careful, like he wants to make sure he doesn’t hurt you with what he says. “Consuming?” he asks. “What do you mean exactly, when you say that?”
You sigh. “It’s like…at the start of a date, even if it’s with someone I already know, they won’t know this. I haven’t told almost anyone. It sits right at the front of my mind, though, and all I can think, anytime they touch my hand or put an arm around me, is that they might think it means they get to do more, even if I’m not ready for it. It scares me. What if I have to set that boundary, and they don’t like it? What if it ruins the friendship, or makes them angry with me? Or what if they don’t listen and they do something to me that I don’t want? Some relatively decent dude reaches out to hold my hand on a date, and that’s what I’m already thinking about, so I shut it down. I always shut it down. It’s easier than taking a risk.”
Johnny’s eyes now are crinkled around the edges, and he’s looking at you, maybe with pity, maybe just with compassion. It’s hard to tell because there’s a wave of adrenaline in your chest, nervousness that you’ve revealed this to him. He’s your boss, he doesn’t need to know all of this about you. Your crush on him doesn’t make it any less complicated.
“If someone’s your friend first,” he finally says, “they should respect that. You’re already friends, so spending time or going on a little date should be fun anyway. If nothing else comes out of it, it’s still spending time with your friend. It’s not like they’d lose anything from that. If you’ve got a friend who’s shit enough to get mad because you don’t want to take things any further, they’re not a real friend.”
“Guess I haven’t had that many real friends, then,” you say.
“Hey,” says Johnny, “you’ve got me.” One of his hands comes to cover yours where they’re folded tensely on the table. You hold your breath. The feeling that rises in your chest from his touch is intense, but you do what you can to hide it. He squeezes briefly, and you look at him.
His eyes on you are earnest, open. “I hope this is okay,” he squeezes again, to show he’s talking about touching your hands. “Figure because it’s me, and I’m just your grumpy old boss, you don’t have to worry. You’re pretty good to have around, and…I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”
“Yeah, Johnny,” you finally say. “That’s…completely okay.” It’s a good thing he can’t see the butterflies in your stomach. They’re making you into a liar right now, because all you can think while you look into his eyes is about how badly you’d like him to kiss you.
Dinner continues, fun but uneventful. After the heaviness of your conversation, Johnny turns the talk to the dojo, and to other humorous topics. He’s just finished a rant about coming in one day to find that the young kids’ class had co-opted the stereo to play Taylor Swift during warm-ups when the server brings the check. You try not to let disappointment show on your face. This is the most fun you’ve had in a while; you don’t really want it to end.
You go up to the counter with Johnny while he pays, despite your protests that you can buy your own dinner. “Hey,” he says, as you start walking out to the parking lot together, “are you in any rush to get home?”
“Why? What’d you have in mind?”
“Thought maybe we could go get a drink.”
“What, at a bar?”
“That’s where people usually drink, yeah.” He smiles.
“Only if you promise you’re not gonna ditch me there when you pick up some hot babe.”
He rolls his eyes. “And take ‘em back to my shithole apartment? No thanks. Nah, I’m taking you out tonight because we’re celebrating the dojo. And because I’m your friend and we’re having a good time.” He kicks at the pavement a little. “Besides, you’ve done a lot to help me out with the business. Want you to know I appreciate it.” He looks at you, almost bashful.
“Thanks, Johnny. You’re a good boss. And a good friend.”
“Well you deserve better friends than me. But if I’m it, the least we can do is have some fun.”
You have a feeling the place he’s chosen is a little nicer than anywhere he’d go on his own. It’s a standard pub, not quite trendy, but cute and clean. You’re not sure what to order, but Johnny takes care of that, heading to the bar to grab a beer for himself and promising to get you something that tastes relatively inoffensive. You’re not a frequent drinker.
He comes back balancing the drinks and a basket of fries. “Here,” he says. “Another snack never hurts.” He passes you your drink as well.
“What is it?” It looks pretty much like a soda.
“Rum and coke, with a lime wedge. Classy.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you can’t help grinning. “Go ahead, squeeze it in there. It’s not bad.”
You do as he says and take a sip. He’s right, it’s not bad. He holds up his Coors, and you clink your glass against it.
It’s amazing how easily the two of you talk. That’s not always the case for you, this constant flow of words, but Johnny makes it simple. The warmth of alcohol in your stomach doesn’t hurt, either. You’ve only had a few sips of your drink, but you’re already just a little bit tipsy. It makes you feel looser, makes it easier to say what’s on your mind.
During a lull in conversation, you’re admiring the way the light catches his hair, the icy blueness of his eyes, and the creased beauty of his face. He suddenly tunes in to the fact that you’re looking.
A tiny smile tugs at his lips. “I’m gonna go grab another Banquet,” he says.
You sigh as he stands and heads for the bar. “God, I wish it could be you,” you say under your breath.
“What’s that?” To your alarm, Johnny turns. He clearly heard at least part of what you said, and now he’s asking you to clarify.
“N-nothing,” you say unconvincingly.
He comes back to sit facing you again, a second beer forgotten.
“Did you say, ‘I wish it could be you’?”
“Fuck,” you say, covering your face as it reddens. “Ignore me. I’m drunk.” It’s not true, but you take a long sip, trying to cover yourself.
“Come on,” he says. “Tell me what you said.”
You can feel yourself bristling with a bit of temper, a defense mechanism. You let your hands fall away from your face. “Yeah, fine. I said I wish it could be you. I’m out here, actually having a good time for the first time in who knows how long. I’ve liked you ever since I met you and working for you has been one of my favorite things. I like talking to you and I think you’re funny and sweet and…I even trust you. And yeah, if you’re gonna make me say it, I wish I could lose it to someone like you, instead of one of these jokers on my stupid dating app.”
His eyes are wide now, blinking at you from across the table. His cheeks have gone pink, and he doesn’t seem to know what to say.
“Sorry,” you blurt. “I shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, now it’s gonna be weird. My goddamned mouth.”
“No, no it’s not weird,” he says, but his voice is pitched too high and nervous.
“Yeah,” you say, “it is. Just forget I said anything.”
He clears his throat. “I don’t want to forget it. And I don’t want you to think I’m reacting this way for the wrong reason. You’re…you’re great. But you deserve a lot better than me, for something like that. You need like, some good lookin’ guy in his mid-twenties with a decent car and a good paying job, not a past-fifty functioning alcoholic who might have cockroaches in his couch. Trust me, I like hanging out with you too, but…you don’t want this.”
You shake your head. “Johnny, guys like what you’re describing…they’re pricks. You’re genuine. You’re real, and you’ve got a good heart. And…just look in the mirror, okay? I get why it’s a bad idea, because you’re my boss, and there’s…an age difference, and all of that. We should just forget all this. But I’d be lucky, if it could be you.”
“Thanks,” he says quietly.
The rest of the night goes without incident, and Johnny takes you home, driving you right to your apartment door and wishing you goodnight.