“No, that’s really not what I’m saying.” Elliot picks up his phone, which has been charging for all of two minutes and grabs his wallet. “Don’t wait up.”
“What, you’re just leaving?”
“Yeah, I guess I am,” Elliot says and then leaves. He forgets his gloves and regrets it on the way to the Subway. He sends Blake a text, even though he’s likely still at the arena, tells him that he’ll probably be early and if Blake’s done early, too, can they maybe meet up somewhere?
Blake was playing a matinee game against the Sailors today and the Knights only barely walked out of it with a win. Elliot got a notification when the game ended. He’s had the Knights on notifications ever since Blake made the NHL team. Out of curiosity.
Blake replies no five minutes later and tells him to give him a call when he’s at the station and that he’ll meet him at the restaurant he made a reservation at.
It takes Elliot a little over an hour to get there and he’s not exactly looking forward to the hike back, but he sort of forgets about it when he makes it to the place Blake suggested for dinner – a tiny Italian restaurant that Elliot might have not even noticed if he hadn’t had the address. Blake is waiting for him outside, bundled into a coat, wearing a scarf in Knights colors that his grandma might have knitted for him. Before… Yeah, Elliot is definitely not going to ask. It looks like Blake is still wearing his game day suit, so Elliot is majorly underdressed compared to him.
Elliot doesn’t actually mean to hug him when Blake says, “Hi,” but he does it anyway.
Blake sort of goes with it, doesn’t move for a moment, frozen to the spot, then hugs him back. Blake’s smile is small when he pulls away. “You made it,” Blake says, like he didn’t believe Elliot actually would.
“Yeah. Took a while, but…”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to pick anything too close to the station right after the game.”
“No, I get it, don’t worry,” Elliot says.
“I talked to them and they said that they could move up our reservation, so if you wanna go eat right now…”
“Yeah, sounds good.” Elliot is actually starving.
“I’m kinda overdressed now,” Blake mutters as they head inside. “I was gonna go home and change in between, but…” He shrugs. “I already took off the tie, so maybe it won’t be too bad.”
Elliot can see the tie, it’s purple and it’s sticking out of Blake’s coat pocket. “You look good,” Elliot says, which… Blake does look good, but he still has a bit of an I shouldn’t have said that moment afterwards.
Blake thankfully isn’t weird about it, just leads the way and greets a waitress who takes them to a table in the back.
#
Blake picked his favorite pizza place for dinner, far away from the arena, where he’ll be left the fuck alone, because the owners know him and won’t ask for pictures, and where most fans are unlikely to end up after the game.
Elliot’s smile is nervous when he sits down across from Blake. He’s actually dressed for this place, unlike Blake, who came here right after the game. He could have told Elliot to wait twenty minutes so he could go home and change, but Elliot asked if they could meet up earlier and for some reason saying no didn’t even seem like a valid option to him. Blake sort of wants to ask what happened there, why Elliot ended up being nearly an hour early, but they’re not in a place where he gets to ask these kinds of questions.
“Listen,” Elliot says, before he’s even looked at his menu, “there’s stuff we need to talk about.”
Blake nods. He was expecting that.
“Later, though,” Elliot says, glancing over his shoulder. No one’s listening, but Blake gets that this isn’t a conversation they should have in public. “If that’s okay?”
“Okay with me,” Blake says.
They both order pizza and they talk about hockey, because hockey is safe and there’s a lot to talk about, especially with the Olympics coming up.
Hockey gets them through dinner and Blake asks Elliot for some dirt on Evan and obviously Elliot won’t give him any because he’s too nice for that. So Blake asks him about the kid the Ravens call Crab instead and Elliot laughs and tells him that the Crab is doing fine and isn’t being pranked so much anyone.
“You told them to lay off, didn’t you?” Blake says.
“I might have mentioned that we want the new kids to feel welcome and that excessive pranking could be counterproductive.”
“Of course you did.”
“They taped my gloves together the next day.”
Elliot looks so genuinely disappointed when he says it that Blake can’t help but laugh.
They don’t stick around for too long after they’re done eating. Elliot grabs the bill before Blake even has a chance to reach out. He played today; he’s a bit slow. Elliot leaves the most ridiculous tip, because of course he does, and they head out together.
Elliot’s breath clouds in the air when he huffs as he buttons up his coat.
“Offended by the weather?” Blake asks.
“It’s freezing.”
Blake shakes his head at him. “You’re a terrible Canadian,” he says. “My car’s right down the street. You want my gloves?”
“No, it’s fine.”
Blake tries not to roll his eyes, because Elliot used to say it’s fine a lot, even when things were really not fine, but maybe in this case Elliot can make the one-minute walk without gloves.
When they get to Blake’s place, they’re greeted by Squid and Elliot starts cooing at him before he’s even taken off his coat. He lets Blake take it,
