Chapter Text
Inigo leaned closer to his reflection in the mirror of the tiny foyer in his and his roommates’ apartment. He turned his head from side to side and puffed up his bangs. Thankfully, it was a good hair day. And it was a good outfit day. Under his arm, he had a book that he had borrowed from Laurent. He felt a streak of good luck today; maybe this confidence would last. Can’t waste it. Inigo practiced his smile. “Hey there, handsome,” he told his reflection.
“What in the world?” Severa’s voice. Inigo turned and saw her in the hallway, a twisted smile on her face. “What are you wearing?”
Don’t let her get to you, Inigo thought, and widened his smile. “Do you like it?” He wore a blue shirt with the top few collar buttons off, and had folded the sleeves back for what he hoped was a casual, yet elevated look. His wallet and phone were in his tote bag bearing the logo of a museum Owain had dragged him to on their last road trip. From his right ear dangled his favorite earring. His parents went on a trip recently and got him a cute plush keychain as a souvenir—a cat-rabbit hybrid thing of a creature—which he hung on his belt loop to communicate his “sensitive side.”
Severa put one hand on her hip and smirked. “What’s with the book? I didn’t know you could read.”
“Oh, this?” Inigo showed her the cover. Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin. “Laurent recommended it to me and insisted I read it. I guessed I should ‘enrich myself’ anyways. My dad always tried to get me into reading.”
“Sure,” said Severa.
Inigo’s had enough. He drops his smile for a millisecond in exasperation before masking it on again. “Well, I plan on having a good day. It’s my day off and the weather’s perfect for stepping outside. You could still turn that smirk around and join me.”
Severa barked out a mean laugh. “As if I’m going out with you like that!” She turns and pads back into her room. Inigo still has no idea what she’s talking about. This was how he usually dressed.
“Matcha latte for Inigo!”
Inigo looked up from his phone where he’d been scrolling through videos while waiting for his order. He pocketed the phone and leaned on the counter to give the barista a wink and a smile. “Thank you, darling.” The barista told him “sure thing” in that customer-service voice. Inigo shrugged it off good-naturedly; she was just doing her job.
Latte in hand, Inigo strolled out of the cafe, taking a sip as he pushed through the doors. It was a fresh spring day, with a pleasant wind blowing through the leaves and flower petals. Inigo crossed the road toward the city park where he intended to enjoy the day. There was an amateur performer playing an original song by the park entrance; Inigo stopped to appreciate the music and threw his spare change into the guitar case on the ground. He wove his way through the trail of sweaty, fit joggers circling the park. He kept a happy skip in his step until he found the perfect bench by the pond, where kids were playing with toy boats on the opposite edge.
Inigo let out a content sigh as he sat down. He soaked in the moment for a few beats before digging into his tote for the book. Laurent’s copy was old and well-loved. He must’ve gotten it from the used bookstore down the block. More than that, Laurent said he’d read the book multiple times. To be fair, Inigo thought that Laurent had read all his books at least twice. He balanced the book on one hand while keeping his latte in the other. “Time to find out what’s so special about this thing,” he muttered.
I stand at the window of this great house in the south of France as night falls…
His ears perked up at a chuckle. Self-conscious, he looked up and saw two young women passing by, glancing at him and hiding their smiles behind their hands. Inigo reddened and suddenly felt a feeling of deja vu. He shook himself, cleared his throat and gave the girls his winning smile. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” he told them. “Almost as beautiful as the two lovely ladies before me.”
The girls looked at each other, then laughed. They pulled each other by the arm and walked away. Inigo sighed. Well, at least he gave them something to be happy about.
Flirting has always been some sort of coping mechanism for him. It helped him shake off and deflect his own shyness. It required confidence. To Inigo, flirting was sliding a piece of yourself to somebody on a little platter, and letting them know it was their turn to respond. It was flipping the situation around by relinquishing the decision to others. And people didn’t usually respond in kind, but he found that it helped build his inner strength anyway.
He shifted in his seat and tried to get back into the book. Oh, but the birds were chirping so sweetly and the kids on the other side of the park were playing so loudly that Inigo could barely concentrate. He took another sip of his matcha latte, only for his lips to be met with ice. Inigo grimaced. Oh, how did he finish the drink before he’d even managed to get past the first page of this book!
Another stranger passed by, and Inigo caught him looking. The stranger looked away when Inigo met his eye. Inigo’s heart stopped for a moment, seized by a tinge of self-consciousness—did he do something to make the man mad at him, somehow? He looked quite stern… but then the stranger's face softened, and Inigo relaxed.
He was a tall, blonde man in a smart outfit, like he came out from work, but he didn’t look corporate. He was handsome. The man seemed to have hesitated for a moment, before sitting over at another bench next to Inigo’s. Inigo gave him a smile, but he didn’t respond.
The stranger lifted the flap of his leather messenger bag and pulled out a book. Giovanni’s Room. Inigo raised his brows. The stranger lifted his head ever so slightly and gave him a ginger look.
“Eheh,” Inigo said, stupidly. “Well, well, well. A man after my own heart, no?”
The stranger gave him a small, sheepish smile. “It’s my favorite novel,” he said. It looked like his favorite novel. The thing was practically falling apart at the binding. Inigo spied a few pieces of tape keeping it together. It was much worse for wear than Laurent’s copy. “Are you re-reading it as well?”
Inigo looked down at the book in his hand. Drat. Of course the handsome stranger didn’t know it wasn’t actually his. But he wanted to keep talking to the man. “Yes!” he said, hoping his smile would hide the lie. “I love how… it was…” What the heck was it that Laurent said? Oh. “Such an important moment in the history of queer literature.”
He must have said the right thing, because the stranger’s smile widened. He held out his hand. “I’m Xander.”
Inigo shook his hand. Xander had a firm, self-assured grip. “The name’s Inigo.” He gave Xander a cheeky wink and saw his face slightly blush. “So what makes it your favorite book?”
“I… find it very relatable,” said Xander. “It makes me feel not so alone in the world.”
“That’s wonderful,” said Inigo. He racked his brain for cliches that bookworms like Laurent liked to say. “It’s amazing what power literature holds.”
“Exactly,” said Xander, his expression bright. “Baldwin is my favorite novelist. He has such an incredible and sincere way with words. I haven’t read anyone else like him.”
“Oh, yes, me neither,” said Inigo. Which was true, because he’s barely read any books except those required in school, period.
Xander put his book back into his bag. “I actually have to be somewhere, my apologies. I just wanted to let you know I liked your book.” He twisted the metal latch of his bag closed. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Inigo.”
As Xander stood up, sirens rang off in Inigo’s head. He started talking to a gorgeous man that wanted to talk to him too, he can’t just let him leave! “Wait!” Inigo cried. Xander paused and blinked at him. “Come and have tea with me sometime,” he said.
Xander’s face bloomed. “I would love to,” he said.
Success! Success! Success! The little Inigos in Inigo’s brain were running around and celebrating. He could barely contain his delight. Smooth, Inigo, he reminded himself, be smooth. He fished his phone out of his pocket. “Let me have your number and I’ll call you.”
They exchanged numbers. “How does Tuesday at six sound? I’ll be off from work by then,” said Xander.
“Oh, uh.” Inigo winced. “I actually have rehearsals then.”
A quirk of the brow on Xander’s face. “Rehearsals? Do you perform?” He sounded intrigued.
Inigo blushed. He’s still trying to be more confident about that. He always feels like such a boastful prick talking about it. “Well, I suppose so, but it’s not professional. Just an amateur production at the local community theater. We’re doing Into The Woods.”
“That’s marvelous,” said Xander. “My siblings and I love to see plays.” Inigo did his best to refrain from correcting Xander that they called musicals shows and not plays. “Well… how would Thursday at six sound, then?”
“That’s perfect,” Inigo answered. “I’ll be done with work by then, too. See you soon!”
Xander adjusted the strap of his bag. “See you,” he said, an endearing smile on his face. “I’m looking forward to talking about the book with you some more.”
He walked off, and Inigo waved him goodbye, smitten. Then he smacked his face. Idiot! What was he thinking? He hadn’t even gotten to page two! This may blow up and he’ll ruin his chances with the man. But maybe it doesn’t have to, Inigo thought. The tea date was a chance, and he’s lucky to have one with a guy like Xander in the first place. He knew it was going to be a lucky day, after all. He just has to take matters into his own hands.
Inigo hummed to himself as he pushed his key into the door and turned. He heard guffaws even before he even walked into the apartment. Owain and Severa were on the couch watching something on Severa’s cellphone.
Severa tapped her screen to pause whatever they were watching. “Somebody looks happy,” she said. “Did a girl look at you today? By accident, maybe?”
Owain snorted, looking at Inigo up and down. “Wow, Severa, you were right. He really did go out dressed like that.”
Inigo shifted his weight and leaned one hand on his hip. “This again? I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he whined. “And for your information, yes, I am happy!” He puffed out his chest. “I have a date with a hot guy.”
“Inigo of the Azure Skies, you mean to say that you know naught of what we speak?” said Owain. Inigo tried not to be annoyed that they just ignored what he said about his date. Owain shoved Severa’s phone into his face. “Feast thine eyes!”
Inigo squinted. “The… ‘performative male pandemic,’” he read. “What?”
“It’s you, dumbass!” Severa said through her cackles.
Inigo growled at her, took the phone into her hands. It was a video essay. He unpaused the video with an irritated tap. “—And he’s always carrying a book with him, something feminist or whatever, not to actually read, but as a prop, in the hopes that a girl would notice him—”
“Oh, is that why you’ve been teasing me all day?” Inigo said with a snarl. He was feeling rather bitter. He could feel his teenage insecurities clawing back up his throat. “Because I tried to read a book?”
“We have no choice but to commend and applaud your heroic efforts to enrich your mind with the vast world of Literature! However, I am obligated to inform you that it is your manner of dressing that brings us to such mirth, you old scallywag!”
Inigo shot his hands through the air. “This is how I always dress!” he cried. “God forbid I try to look my best! These people online are… appropriating me!”
Owain and Severa paused, shared a look, then burst into raucous laughter. Inigo shook his head and made his way to his room. Fine, let them have their fun, let him be the butt of the joke yet again… but he’s got work to do.
Sitting on his bed, he called up Laurent. He picked up after a few rings. “Inigo? Oh, good evening. How’s the book? I do hope you’re enjoying it.”
Inigo pasted on a smile. “Um, yeah, it’s great, thanks,” he said. “Say, uh, I have a problem. Do you think you could tell me how the whole book goes?”
Laurent paused. “Did… you need it for some sort of book report…?”
“What? No!” Inigo said. “I haven’t been in school for… years! Why would I…” he groaned. “Ugh, please, Laurent, it’s to impress someone. I met someone really cute who likes the book.”
“So it’s for a girl,” Laurent deadpanned.
“It is not a girl!” Inigo objected.
“Well, whoever it’s for,” said Laurent, “I think it would be much better if you actually read the book yourself.”
Inigo chewed on his lip and groaned. Of course he was right. The know-it-all.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m in the middle of a book myself…” And Laurent hung up.
Inigo flopped down on his bed. But reading was hard for him! And he looked it up, the book didn’t even have a movie! Rubbing his eyes, he nearly considered giving up and watching baking competition shows on his phone until he fell asleep. But then, he remembered Xander’s smile earlier that day.
It really was a kind and beautiful smile.
At that moment, Inigo’s phone rang. He thought it might be Laurent again, calling back to say something he forgot, but it was…
“Hello? Is this Inigo?” said a familiar voice on the other line. “It’s me, Xander. From the park? I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
“Oh!” Inigo shot up, now sitting up straight. “Yes, this is him.”
“Great,” said Xander. “Well, I’m happy to meet you earlier, Inigo. Hope to see you on Thursday?”
“Yeah!” Inigo said, trying not to sound wildly frantic. Xander called him! Called! He could’ve texted. But he called! “I’ll see you then!”
“It’s a book date, then.” He could practically hear Xander smile. It made his insides feel gooey. “Bye, Inigo.”
Inigo scrambled off his bed, leaned over to where he tossed his tote to the floor, and dug out the novel. He turned the cover, and started again.
“What’s that book you’ve been reading, Inigo?”
Inigo looked up from the page. While he was stretching and warming up for rehearsal—he was in the middle of a split on the floor—he had his nose buried in Giovanni’s Room. It was Tuesday evening, and they were at the local theater.
He set his bookmark (that he had to borrow from Owain—it had some sort of wizard on it) and smiled at Azura. “It’s a novel a friend recommended to me.” He offered her the book so she could see.
Azura gracefully took the book, considered the tasteful cover design thoughtfully, and read the back blurb. “It sounds wonderful,” she said. “I’ll keep it in mind for my own reading list.”
Inigo inhaled. “It is wonderful!” he said. “I haven’t read anything like it! It’s been making me feel all these feelings! Oh, it’s devastating!”
Last Sunday evening, when he finally read the book in earnest, Inigo found himself riveted. He got lost in the novel’s characters and their world. The protagonist was infinitely frustrating to him, but at the same time understandable… Inigo also grew up under the stares, pressure, and expectations of society. Leaning into his sexuality as he grew older, shedding the compulsory feelings of heterosexuality he was taught… It wasn't easy. He shuddered to think what would have become of him if he had not had such supportive parents.
What Xander said that day in the park echoed in his mind… he said that the book made him feel not so alone in the world. Inigo felt the exact same.
And… if they were both not so alone, then could they be…?
“I’ll have to check it out, then!” Azura said, chuckling. Even her laughs were so elegant. She was the perfect Cinderella for their show. Inigo suspected that she went to a fancy private school as a child. She definitely had the bearing of someone of that calibre. She and Inigo were some of the regulars at their theater; they’ve done a couple of shows together and were good friends.
Inigo himself would be playing Jack. It was a dream role, and he even had an amazing solo! Into The Woods held a special place in his heart. It was one of the many musicals he watched on the television with his mother. It was one he would request his mother to let them watch again and again. Though when he was littler, his mother only let him watch the first act, and for a few years he thought that it was a one-act musical… Well, it was the second act that made the show relevant to him even throughout his teen and adult years. He finds that he can always find a new insight whenever he comes back to it.
The rest of the rehearsal went smoothly. Inigo, like many others in the cast, had no trouble learning the lines, because he’s seen the show so many times. It’s such a relief to be able to come to the theater after work. They’re rehearsing in the theater now, but the actual production will be at the amphitheater at the park. The very park where Inigo met Xander the other day. Inigo can’t wait.
After rehearsals were done and before they all went home for the night, the show manager gave everyone their complimentary tickets. Inigo accepted his with a wink and a smile, sliding the two tickets between the pages of his book. He usually gave them to Owain and Severa, and his parents often insisted on paying for their own tickets to support the show.
Xander had said he loved to watch performances. Maybe Inigo could invite him to the show. During their date this Thursday. He smiled to himself as he waltzed down the street towards home.
Inigo barely made it inside the subway car before the doors slid closed. It was rush hour; he squeezed between the crowd of passengers and reached up for a train handle. He had run from the rink to the station to catch the earliest possible train.
He rocked back and forth on his heels as he slipped his phone out of his pocket and reread his last text exchange.
Xander
Hey, I just got off work. I’ll be on the way soon. We are still meeting up, right?
Inigo
Yes!!! I’m also finishing up work and will be otw. It’s gonna take me about 30 minutes to get there.
See you soon!
Xander
See you :)
Inigo bit back a smile. Xander texted really cutely, like a dad. He couldn’t wait to see him again. And he had a feeling that Xander felt the same way.
He’s dressed more practically this time, since he came straight from work. He wore a warm half-zip sweater, athletic bottoms that accentuated his figure, and with no plush toy dangling from his waist. He still had his single favorite earring. But Severa had no reason to make fun of his clothes, like the other day.
He dug into his bag for his travel cologne and sprayed it on his neck and wrists, careful not to elbow the other passengers’ faces. He was hoping that he looked “handsome and rosy-cheeked from exercise” and not “haggard from work.”
Tucked away in his bag he had the copy of Giovanni’s Room. He spent several hours last night finally trying to get it finished. It was the fastest Inigo had ever read a whole novel. To be honest, it wasn’t entirely thanks to his date with Xander—he found himself genuinely lost in the book. It flew by like nothing.
And… he was excited to talk about it with Xander. He and Laurent were right; it was an amazing book. Well, it was devastating. He did shed a few tears last night. It was full of ache and loneliness and longing and so many feelings Inigo has felt before, finally articulated on the page. He was really grateful for all that’s happened the past week—meeting Xander, and getting to read the book.
Except he just hoped that Xander won’t pick up on the fact that Inigo practically lied to him when they first met about having already read the book… Okay, he was nervous about that part.
He tried to keep that off his mind and hummed the whole rest of the way to the tea shop he invited Xander to. It was a small, independent shop with cute, vintage furniture and lovely staff, and it was in an area of the city with lots of other unique small shops. It was one of his favorite places to spend time in and was where he often invited people to—well, Xander might be the first person to actually take him up on his offer.
From the street, he spotted a head of blond hair in the tea shop window. Inigo knocked lightly on the glass, and Xander lifted his head. Inigo waved and tried not to blush as Xander’s serious expression brightened with the subtle uptick of the corner of his mouth.
A dainty little bell rang as he pushed the door open. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” Inigo said as he sat across from Xander.
“Not at all,” said Xander. “I actually work nearby, so it was easy to get here. I just walked.”
Inigo’s brows raised. “No kidding! I had to take the subway.” Xander must be lucky; this was a charming part of the city.
A waiter came and took their order. He seemed to give Inigo a knowing smile. Inigo knew his face; he probably clocked him as a regular that finally got a date.
“So, where do you work?” Inigo asked.
“I’m a professor of history at the local university,” Xander answered.
“Wow,” said Inigo. He could totally see that. Maybe Xander was the strict type of teacher that students may be scared of at first, but eventually came to appreciate.
“And what about you?”
Inigo shrugged. “I teach at the skating rink,” he said. “Mostly kids.”
“Really? I’m fond of skating. My siblings and I go every winter,” said Xander. “You must have a lot of patience.”
Inigo huffed a laugh. “Oh, tell me about it. I have to handle all these little kids falling on their butts. The older ones do better, though. I can teach them stuff like spins.”
Xander smiled. Inigo tried not to melt. “And the theater?” he asked. “You told me you were in a musical.”
“Oh! Yes, that.” Inigo fumbled with his sleeves and tried to contain his blush. It just made him so shy to talk about it! He wondered if he’ll have the courage today to invite Xander to the show. “It’s something I do as a hobby.”
“Well, I’d love to see you perform,” said Xander. “I’m sure you’re amazing.”
Ah, there was his opportunity! Xander brought it up, so if Inigo invited him now it wouldn’t seem like he was being a boastful prick. But then the waiter came and served their tea and cookies.
“I should bring my little sister here,” said Xander, picking up a cookie. “She loves baking and sweets.”
Ah… Inigo felt like his burst of courage had passed. Maybe he’ll try again later. For now, he would go with the flow… “How many siblings do you have?”
“Four,” said Xander. “I’m the eldest.”
Inigo’s jaw dropped. “That’s a big family!” he said. “I’m just an only child. I grew up with a lot of the children of my parents’ friends, though. So what are your siblings like?”
“Elise, the one I mentioned, is the youngest. She’s currently taking her undergrad in pre-med. She wants to be a pediatrician.” Xander’s eyes seemed to soften as he spoke. “The second youngest is Leo, who’s doing his MA in philosophy abroad right now. He’s a brilliant scholar. My middle sister, Corrin, works in a climate justice non-profit. And the eldest after me, Camilla, is a professor of psychology at my university.”
“They all sound so smart. It must run in the family,” said Inigo. He suddenly felt very inadequate. He thought finishing the book would make them more level, but what was he kidding? Xander probably had a doctorate. Inigo barely scraped by in college. He might not have even graduated high school if he didn’t have smarter friends who helped him.
Xander gave him a shy smile. “I suppose you could say we come from an academic family.” He looks down at his tea. “Our father was actually the president of the university I work at.”
“Oh! That must have been interesting.”
“Not so much, actually,” Xander said, still downcast. “He wasn’t a popular president. Students protested against him often.” Oh. “Either way, he’s dead now.” Oh.
“I’m… sorry,” Inigo said, frowning.
“No, don’t be, it’s all right,” Xander said in a soothing voice. “I apologize for being a downer. If there’s anything you need to know, though, it’s that I’ve worked very hard to have a different kind of reputation from my father.” He blinked down at his cookie before returning his gaze to Inigo. “I apologize, I’ve gone on and on about myself. I’d love to hear about you.”
“Oh! Well,” Inigo starts, scratching his cheek. “I don’t really know what to say…”
Xander knits his hands together and leans forward. “Well, how did you get into theater?”
“My mother is a dancer,” Inigo answered. “She teaches now, but back in the day she was a prima ballerina. She taught me how to dance, and I’ve been performing since I was a little kid.” He took a sip of his tea. “She also introduced me to musicals. We would watch recordings and she would take me to a real one sometimes.”
“Have you ever thought of acting professionally?” Xander asked.
Urk. Inigo winced. “I did try, before…” he said. “Honestly, I couldn’t handle the nerves. I’ve always been shy about performing. Community theater felt more low-stakes, and I feel more at ease in it.” He paused. “I might like to try again sometime, though. I don’t know.”
“You should,” said Xander earnestly. Inigo ducked his head, shy. “And what about skating?”
“Ah, I did some junior competitions when I was younger,” Inigo said. Xander looked impressed. “Nothing big-time, though. I was drawn to how it combined dance with athletic performance.”
“I’m certain you’re great,” said Xander.
Inigo looked out the window. It was still light outside, and a few people strolled by, happily chatting away. “Hey, would you like to take a walk after we finish up here? The weather looks nice.”
They finished up their tea and paid; Xander first insisted on paying, but Inigo managed to convince them to split. The bell chimed as Xander chivalrously opened the door for Inigo. He looked back once to thank the waiter one last time, and was given a wink. They started walking down the tree-lined street, passing by other cafes and shops.
“You know,” Xander started, “my mother was also fond of the theater. She took our family to see plays and the orchestra and such.”
“That’s wonderful!” Inigo said. “Did you ever try performing yourself?”
“Oh, no,” Xander replied. “I’m also quite shy. Much more so when I was a child. I could barely speak to strangers, back then.”
Inigo smiled. “I was the same! Do you know what my mother’s advice to me was?” Xander shook his head. “‘Talk to girls.’”
Xander snorted softly. “I had to get over my shyness on my own. I wanted to be a good example for my siblings,” he said. “So I…” he trailed off. “Actually, it’s quite embarrassing.”
Inigo raised a brow. “Well, now you simply must tell me. You already piqued my interest.”
Xander exhaled. There was the slightest hint of pinkness on his cheeks. “I used to imagine other people were bunny rabbits,” he said in a low voice, “so that I wouldn’t be scared.”
Inigo raised his other brow in delight. “That’s adorable!” he cooed. “I bet you were a cute kid.”
“No, I was gangly and awkward,” Xander admitted.
“Hey, but you were smart, right?” Inigo said. “I think I would’ve been your friend.”
The sun was going down now; it was getting a bit darker. Inigo appreciated how Xander looked in the warm glow of golden hour. His blond curls looked so soft. “Will you be taking the train?” Xander asked. “Should I walk you to the station?”
“I’d like that,” said Inigo. “What about you?”
“I live around here,” said Xander.
“Oh, I don’t want to be out of your way…”
“No, no,” Xander insisted. “I’ll walk you.” He smiled softly. “So we could spend a bit more time together.”
Inigo’s heart fluttered. What was going on? He still couldn’t believe a guy like Xander was showing interest in him. Accepting a date with him, actually showing up, being interested in learning about him, opening up to him, talking with him this whole time… He was smitten with Xander, for sure, but he can’t wrap his head around the idea that Xander might be smitten with him, too.
There was no way he would mess this up. He just couldn’t! He wouldn’t live with himself if he messed this up! He had to be strong! And use all his charms!
Inigo held out his elbow for Xander to take. “Lead the way, then, buttercup.”
That pink hue returned to Xander’s cheeks, who huffed good-heartedly and slipped his hand over Inigo’s arm. They walked, arm in arm, toward the station.
As they got to the station entrance, Xander piped up. “I just realized,” he said, “that I was so distracted by talking with you that I completely forgot the original pretense for our date.”
Inigo blinked. Then, with a gasp, he slapped his forehead. “Giovanni’s Room! I forgot too!” Xander chuckled. Inigo reached for his bag, zipped it open and pulled out the book. “I even brought it today.”
“Well,” said Xander, “maybe this means we should have a second date.”
“Yes!” Inigo said, too quickly and eagerly, and immediately felt embarrassed. “I mean, um. Absolutely. Yes. I would love that.” He remembered something. “Actually…”
He dug into his bag again, this time bringing out his wallet and taking out the two complimentary tickets he got from the theater.
“Our show opens this Saturday,” Inigo said shyly. “If you’re free, I’d love for you to come and watch… perhaps you can take one of your siblings with you…?”
Xander put his hand over Inigo’s, and the tickets. “I would love to,” he said in a sincere voice. “Thank you for inviting me.” Xander glanced at the tickets. “It’s in the park?”
“Yeah! The park where we met,” Inigo said, blushing. “You know the amphitheater? It’ll be great. The musical is set in the woods, so with the trees and all, it’ll feel more immersive.”
“That sounds marvellous,” said Xander. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Inigo tried to keep calm despite his heart fluttering wildly in his chest. “Great! That’s just… great.” Now he was tripping over his words. “I’ll… see you soon? I’ll text you?”
“I’ll call you,” Xander said, and wow, yeah, that made him feel really enamored. Inigo thought he was the charming one.
Feeling brave, he reached up to give Xander a peck on the cheek, and quickly turned to run down into the station, cheeks blazing red.
But not before stopping briefly, hand on the steel rail, to look back at Xander one last time. At the top of the steps, tall and imposing, Xander gave him a small, almost shy, wave.
Inigo smiled at him and continued down into the station.