Work Text:
Near reaches his wit’s end on a Tuesday in early October. He has been trying to win Mello’s heart for months now, seemingly to no avail. He cannot take it any longer.
He thought his intentions were obvious enough. He has complimented Mello’s intelligence, his sense of humor, and his appearance on many different occasions. He has bought Mello small, thoughtful gifts— an espresso machine for the office break room after Mello complained of the coffee maker, premium office supplies, and the same high-quality noise-cancelling headphones that Near wears on a daily basis— and he makes sure to remember dates that might be important to Mello.
Through all of this, Mello has been amicable. He has even begun to reciprocate some of Near’s gestures. When they first started working together, he was somewhat cold toward Near, but over the months, he has warmed considerably. He greets Near in the morning with a familiar, muted smile, and shares exasperated looks with him over mundane workplace irritations, and accepts Near’s compliments— sometimes gracefully, sometimes awkwardly— rather than rebuffing them.
Despite all of this, he has made no indication of having noticed Near’s romantic interest in him.
It was Near’s intention to be patient, to allow Mello to be the one to initiate any amorous escalations. He knows how much Mello values control. Things have gone on this way for so long now, though, that he truly cannot decipher whether Mello is clueless to his advances or intentionally ignoring them, and there is no way to know for sure without risking it all.
After his shower, Near stands at his bathroom counter and uses his iPhone to look up the show times for the newest Transformers movie. Then he thinks about sitting in a theater with other people and decides to have Rester call to arrange a private viewing instead. He can work around Mello’s schedule that way, and no one will be irritated when he comments on the lore accuracy (or lack thereof).
In the mirror, he practices the question he wants to ask. He does this between brushing his teeth and putting on the oat-based face lotion Mello bought him for his birthday, trying out different ways of phrasing things to decide which ones he likes best.
Would you accompany me to a movie?
I want to go to a movie with you.
I am going to see a movie. I request your company in this venture.
There is a movie I want to see. Do you want to come with me?
I would like for us to see a movie together.
This last option is the best one, he thinks. Near rehearses a few times more, experimenting with varying the cadence and accompanying facial expressions and hand gestures. When he at last feels ready, he leaves his suite.
He does not get the chance to speak with Mello alone in the morning, so he waits until lunch. Then, at lunch, Lidner decides to remain in the office with the two of them rather than joining Gevanni and Rester in the break room, citing a desire to “catch up on some reports.” Normally Near is grateful for her industriousness, but today, he wishes she were less diligent. The psychic pleas that Near sends in her direction to leave at once seem to have no effect; he resigns himself to biding his time.
The day drags on. Near becomes more and more anxious the longer he is forced to wait. During the afternoon hours, his mind invents countless possible rejections. Mello might laugh at him, he could become angry with Near. He could think Near is kidding, and become offended by that, or else he could be disgusted by the idea. Maybe he’ll be upset that Near even dared to ask him.
Some of these fears melt away when, at four PM, Mello taps on his shoulder.
“I’m gonna make myself a cortado,” he says. “You want anything?”
A cortado, Near has learned, is a roughly-equal mixture of espresso and steamed milk. He does not feel strongly about the drink. Coffee is, to him, a means to an end only. Mello avidly enjoys espresso drinks, though, and seems to take pleasure in getting Near to try new things.
“Surprise me,” says Near. “I feel adventurous.”
Mello grins, and the world suddenly rights itself again.
The drink Mello surprises him with is flavored like a pumpkin pie. Near finds it extremely palatable— surprisingly so— but the special attention from Mello (and the smile of satisfaction the older boy shoots his way when he confesses his enjoyment) far surpasses the flavor. Soothed and warmed, Near manages to pass the remainder of the day with minimal misery. It isn’t until Rester is leaving that his unease returns.
All day he has waited to be alone with Mello, but the arrival of his opportunity feels abrupt. He isn’t ready. His palms sweat, and his tongue feels heavy in his mouth, and the way he wanted to ask the question suddenly seems stupid, but he can’t think of better phrasing.
Somehow he finds the strength to clear his throat.
Mello turns to look at him, gaze attentive. Near swallows hard.
“I would like for us to see a movie together,” he forces out, hand buried in his hair, eyes fixed to a spot between Mello’s brows. Eye contact is important here, yet presently impossible, so this substitute must suffice.
“Okay,” Mello says easily.
Near’s hand stills, a lock of hair half-way wound around his index finger. In his disbelief, he unintentionally meets Mello’s electric gaze and feels the shock roll through him.
“Okay?” he echoes.
“Yeah. Sounds like fun.” The other boy leans back in his chair. “That it?”
“The— the movie would be this weekend,” Near adds.
Mello nods. “Cool. I’m not busy.”
Blinking rapidly, Near licks his lips. “It would be a date.”
This earns a grin, one more mischievous than the expression that accompanied Near’s coffee.
“Yeah? You gonna buy my popcorn for me, then? Try to hold my hand?”
Near cannot tell if he is being mocked. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably.
“I intend to do both,” he says stiffly.
Mello does laugh, but the sound is warm and kind.
“Good. Wouldn’t be a proper date if you didn’t.”
Near nods as if Mello has said something wise. “Ah… is there anything else I should know in advance? About— about dates, I mean.”
“Just one thing.”
Mello’s smile is sharp, and prettier than anything in the world. Near nods again, hanging on his every word.
“I’ll be real mad,” the blonde says, honey-sweet, “if you don’t kiss me goodnight.”