aromas, lights, metals

[robinauts]

Title: aromas, lights, metals
Fandom: The Adventure Zone
Pairing: Taako/Kravitz
Rating: T
Word count: 3,189
Summary: This is Kravitz and Taako's first date. Well, second date, technically. But this one will be a proper date. And Kravitz really hopes it goes perfectly.

Note: Originally posted to my AO3 12/29/2016. See more detailed notes at the end!

-

So. Tonight is their first date.

Well, at least in Kravitz’s opinion. Their first… outing, he supposes, could be considered a date, but he had entered the Chug and Squeeze expecting a serious meeting (with, perhaps, an allotment of no more than two minutes for innuendos pertaining to the name of the venue) between two acquaintances rather than anything more. Of course, when he saw Taako sipping from his glass, drumming his fingers against the table, dressed to the nines - to the tens - in a teal dress with a slit up the side almost all the way to his hip...

Well. The idea that it was all business got swept away fairly quickly.

Had Kravitz known that he would leave that evening ass over ankles for a criminally undead elven wizard, he might have taken the care to show up on time. But he has tonight. Tonight will be perfect, because it’s their first official, signed-and-agreed-upon-in-advance-by-all-parties date, which is why he’s pacing around the street entrance of a nice (not intimidatingly nice, but definitely impressively nice) restaurant in Waterdeep, wearing one of his most stylish dark red suits and having arrived half an hour before their agreed time.

Perhaps he’ll come across a little too eager. Well, better eager than uninterested, right? He’s not sure when Taako showed up last Tuesday - except that it was long before his own arrival - but if he’s also early tonight, then that’s just more time to spend together. Which is a win, in Kravitz’s book.

Kravitz really wants to spend more time with Taako.

He really, really hopes Taako wants to spend more time with him. Kravitz had been the one to organize this date, waiting a few days to call so it wouldn’t be weird. Taako had said yes, and he’d sounded enthused while they were making their plans, Kravitz thinks. He’s fairly sure.

He hopes.

He’d kind of goofed up the end of their last outing, what with the whole “turning into a skeleton” thing (although Taako had seemed… intrigued by that, and maybe that was just the wine talking, but it signaled a significant shift of opinion from their first meeting), not to mention accusing Taako of being or harboring an undead being (he still isn’t sure what’s going on up there, but as long as Taako’s alright, well. Kravitz has a very full book of bounties to preoccupy himself with first).

So, he’d scheduled their date for a Wednesday night - statistically the day of the week least prone to necromancy - in order to ensure that it wouldn’t end like their discussion a week or so prior, with work calling him away all too soon.

Kravitz also submitted a request for no low-priority assignments for the next day. If any did come up, he’d privately begged one of his colleagues to take them on. Julia had let him squirm for a minute or so before laughing and slapping him on the back (hard enough that he almost toppled over - the woman has some muscles on her). Yeah, she’d told him, I’ll deal with it, I’m a big sucker for saps like you. Go mack on your elf.

He blustered something like, I’m not going to - to mack on him, it’s our second date, I wouldn’t presume -

Julia had pinched his cheek. You’ve got a handsome face and a good heart. You’re irresistible, and that’s not mentioning that thing you two did with the tentacles.

How - how did you -

Not much new in the astral plane, so word gets around fast. You of all people should know that.

But - I’m - what about the massive ghost jailbreak shortly afterward? Why isn't that the big news item?

Well, we all got a briefing on that. That thing with the tentacles was a juicy little secret. Well, for a little while at least.

Sometimes Kravitz’s existence is one embarrassment after another. At least he’s going on a date with a cute boy.

This date, their first proper date , won’t be interrupted by anything (undead or otherwise), Kravitz is going to be totally suave, Taako is going to be absolutely charmed, and they’ll have a third date, and more after that.

And maybe, if he’s lucky, they’ll even kiss a little? Here’s hoping, he supposes.

Kravitz pulls out his watch. It’s a pocketwatch, and he thinks it matches his general… mien very well. He likes the click it makes when it opens and all the engravings on the casing.

Ten minutes until their reservation.

For the umpteenth time, Kravitz looks up and down the road for a well-dressed, breathtakingly attractive elf meandering his way.

Then he scans the sky for a glass ball plummeting down to earth.

Then he resumes pacing.

-

Twenty five minutes have passed, and Kravitz has stopped pacing, because he is now sitting at their table. It’s got a fine white linen tablecloth, a small cluster of flowers in a delicate porcelain vase, and a gorgeous view of the setting sun.

He hopes Taako arrives in time to see. He hopes Taako… arrives. Period. Because the waitstaff had been very understanding and non-judgmental when he’d come in a while ago to ensure they didn’t think Kravitz-party-of-two would be no-shows and give their table away, but now they’re giving him pitying looks whenever they pass by to serve other people and their dates plates of food.

Kravitz is determined not to feel humiliated. Even if the waitstaff know the place setting across from him is meant to be filled, the surrounding diners don’t. So he’s giving off the best “I am enjoying a wonderful meal by myself and am not waiting on anyone and am just very thoroughly reading my menu and eating all of the complimentary bread rolls they’ve put in front of me” aura he can. And if that necessitates ordering a bottle of red wine and being on his second glass? So be it.

It’s for the better, anyway. When Taako arrives (not if, he tells a gloomy little part of his head), he’ll have the wine ready. Taako quite likes wine, as indicated by their last get-together, and had delightedly hummed about this restaurant’s wine selection when Kravitz had proposed the place. So Kravitz takes the liberty of pouring them both a glass, and sets Taako’s, ready for him, on the other side of the table, where Kravitz can stare at it and the still-empty chair and think about Taako sitting across from him. He pointedly does not think about how everyone here is definitely giving him pitying looks now.

He was so worried about the date not going well, he never even stopped to consider the date not even happening.

Kravitz takes another gulp of his wine.

There’s a slight cough to his left, and he looks up to see the waiter who’d shown him to his table and fetched his quickly-draining bottle of pinot. Kravitz peers at the name tag pinned to a crisp white shirt. Matthew. He sighs and skims the menu where it’s open in front of him. Maybe he should order an appetizer? Have it ready for when (when) Taako arrives?

“How is everything treating you, sir?” Matthew says, fiddling with his notepad.

Kravitz says something along the lines of “good, thank you” in response; he’s too focused on scanning the skies for the glitter of a glass ball falling to earth to pay attention to niceties with a stranger. He understands the formalities necessary in a job involving working with people (although he suspects waiting tables requires more manners than dragging undead criminals back to the astral plane), but hopefully Matthew will take the hint that his attendance isn’t required right now.

Matthew nods at the empty chair on the other side of the table. “You still, ah, waiting for someone?”

“... yes, I am.”

“Your date stood you up?”

Kravitz stares determinedly at the menu. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.” One appetizer mentions grilled zucchini shrimp on flatbread. He wonders what Taako would think of that. “He’s running a bit late. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

“Oh, I get it.” Kravitz looks back up at Matthew, who’s giving him a pitying, sympathetic look, but also kind of a once-over. Oh dear. “Well, uh, if your date runs real late… maybe you’ll still be waiting when my shift ends?”

It’s awkward phrasing, but Kravitz has enough wherewithal to understand what Matthew is getting at: him.

Kravitz has dealt with all manner of people flirting with him in the past. There’s any number of audacious necromancers willing to bat their eyelashes out of being dragged back to the astral plane - he’s about to go on a second (technically first) date with the only one who ever succeeded with that strategy. Then there are people whom he encounters on his time off and just seem to like the look of him, like poor Matthew the waiter here.

Sometimes Kravitz will flirt back, if the mood strikes him and they’re his type. Matthew could possibly have once been his type, but as of the past week or so his type has narrowed in focus significantly.

“I’m… flattered, Matthew, really,” Kravitz begins, but Matthew touches Kravitz’s shoulder briefly and interrupts him with a little wink.

“You can call me Matt, I don’t mind.”

Her majesty help him. “... Right. Matt. I’m flattered, really I am, but I’m here tonight for, you know, a date, so. I apologize.”

Matthew playfully rolls his eyes, leaning a little on Kravitz’s chair. Kravitz considers the idea of just tearing open a rift right there and then and fleeing the restaurant. No, he can’t do that. “Listen, sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but your reservation was for half an hour ago. The dude’s not gonna show.”

“Um, yeah I have a reservation. Do I look like I just wandered in off the street?”

Kravitz turns around, because he’d recognize that voice anywhere, and there he is, striding his way past the hapless maître d’ towards the table, heels clicking on the varnished wooden floor, chin lifted imperiously: Taako.

Oh, he’s a vision, hair tumbling down past his shoulders in thick, lustrous curls. He’s wearing a deep purple dress with straps that settle around his upper arms and a hem that flirts with his knees, a filmy shawl draped around his shoulders. His earrings catch the light and wink as he sits down; they match the web of golden beads hanging from his neck and over his collarbones.

Kravitz notes distantly that he’s never found collarbones so attractive. He isn’t sure if that’s because he’s usually a skeleton or because Taako’s himself.

“If you don’t pick your jaw up off your lap you might start drooling, loverboy,” Taako says with an all-too-knowing look.

Kravitz snaps his mouth shut, embarrassed, and looks away from Taako’s teasing smile and back to where the waiter (Max?) still stands, lips pursed.

Taako pays him no mind, gaze hot and firmly on Kravitz. “Don’t tell me you were flirting with some rando while I was held up,” Taako says, curling a lock of hair around his finger. “That’d be real rude, my fella.”

“No!” Kravitz blurts out, ever so slightly panicked. Taako can’t be allowed to think that he isn’t interested in him, because oh, he so is and it ought to be patently obvious. There’s no way Taako can’t tell how much Kravitz likes him. Right? “No, of course not. I’ve waiting for you.”

Taako smiles at him, and it washes over him like - like something warm, and all over, and - you know. Something like that. “Sorry about the holdup,” Taako says, hanging his bag on his chair. “Had to shake off some hangers-on. You know how it is with hangers-on. Such a nuisance."

“Of course,” Kravitz says, remembering the fond complaints Taako described his colleagues with. Taako smiles wider, and suddenly Kravitz realizes how that might sound to the waiter (Mark. Mark?) and glances back over to him.

The waiter now has his arms crossed. Oh, his Lady. He probably should have thought before he spoke, but it is fairly funny, and, well… Taako.

Speaking of, Taako is also observing the man still standing by their table. “This our waiter?” he drawls, eyes flicking up at the waiter’s (Mack?) floppy haircut and then down to his lightly scuffed shoes. “Hm.”

The single “hm” carries a metric ton of disapproval, and the force of it smacks the waiter in the face.

Mal clears his throat. “If you two don’t need me right now,” he says, setting his shoulders and determinedly not looking at Kravitz, but more determinedly not looking at Taako, just sort of staring at the little vase of flowers on the table in between them, “I’ll leave you to your evening--”

“Yeah, can I get the wine list?” Taako interrupts, leaning forward with his chin on his hand. “Nothing like a romantic evening with a hot guy and a bottle of that stinky old juice.”

“Actually, I took the liberty of ordering us a bottle of pinot,” Kravitz interjects, buoyant on having done something suave (ordering wine and pouring a glass for both of them) and being called a “hot guy” (which is just objectively true, Kravitz owns a mirror, but it’s quite nice to hear Taako say so). “Here--”

In his desire for Taako to partake in his forethought, his hand rolls a critical failure and sweeps too dramatically and smacks into the wine glass, and it spills.

Right onto Matthew (that’s the one) the waiter and his crisp white shirt.

There’s a moment of pendulous silence as Kravitz and Matthew gape at the spreading red stain. Taako leans across the table and snags Kravitz’s glass.

Then Matthew looks up, dreadfully slowly, to look Kravitz in the eye. “I get the idea. Sir,” he spits through gritted teeth, and Kravitz is too stunned with embarrassment to apologize or say anything at all as Matthew strides briskly back to the kitchen.

“Nice,” Taako says. He takes a long sip from the wine glass, eyes shining as he stares straight at Kravitz. And then breaks down into helpless giggles.

Were it anyone else, Kravitz would be a little offended. But it’s Taako, and his smile and shaking shoulders are so lovely to see, and his laughter is - maybe it’s cliche to say it’s like a song, but music is one of the only other things he can think of that make him so happy to hear. “Hey,” he says weakly, trying to restrain a smile, but Taako’s delight is too infectious. “Hey now.”

“Sorry my guy,” Taako near-wheezes, delicately brushing at an eye so as not to disturb his elaborate makeup with tears of laughter or his finger. “Sorry, just - his face -”

“No, no it’s fine,” Kravitz says, and he can’t help but start laughing a little too. “I know. Oh my god.”

“When he got all that - fuckin’ wine all over ‘im--” Taako gasps. “His face - fuckin, shot through the heart! And Krav’s to blame!”

“You know, I actually knew Bon Jovi back in the day.”

“Oh? Back in the day of you being a real flesh man? You’re younger than I thought.”

“Flattering, but I died long before he was on the scene.” Kravitz leans conspiratorially across the table. “No, I had to stuff his soul back in the astral plane - some crazed fan tried to necromancy him back to life.”

Taako’s eyebrows bounce up his forehead. He takes another sip from the wine glass. “Piss poor taste. I woulda gone for Bea Arthur.”

Kravitz hurriedly combs through the centuries of pop culture he’s managed to absorb. “From… that one show with the older dwarf women?”

“Gold-Mine Girls, yeah. Work of art. Also, you got your elbow in your wine spill.”

Kravitz jerks his arm up and internally groans at the dark stain now on his coat. “Shit, I forgot that was there.”

Taako barks a laugh. “Somehow, I don’t think that waiter is gonna come back with a towel for us any time soon. You kinda screwed the pooch on that one.” He waves his finger and the spill disappears from the linen and from Kravitz’s elbow. “There! Solved your problem for us.”

“Goodness, that’s embarrassing,” Kravitz sighs, reaching over and snatching his wine glass back from Taako, who pouts. Kravitz’s eyes catch on the lipstick stains on the rim and his mind stutters to a halt for a second. Oh. Wow.

“What, how you totally owned that waiter guy?” Taako says, popping a bread roll in his mouth. “Nah dude, that fuckin’ ruled. Might as well have just declared yourself Taako Territory.”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Kravitz can’t help but chuckle. “Although it was effective at shaking him off. No, it’s more about how you saw me be so dreadfully clumsy. Twice.”

Taako waves a hand, bracelets swinging and glittering as he does. “Krav, the first time we spoke you like, missed us when we could not god damn move. We weren’t even sitting ducks. You missed frozen ducks. You got low dexterity and it’s probably exacerbated by the enchanting presence of moi. I’ve decided that it’s cute.”

“I don’t have low dexterity,” Kravitz mutters, but can’t help the way his lips curl into a smile. “And anyway, you’re one to talk.”

“The fuck?” Taako says around his mouthful of bread, brows scrunching together in mild offense. “I got great dex. Deluxe dex. I’m a goddamn flipwizard.”

“No, I mean - you’re cute.”

Taako seems to get caught off guard for a second. The tips of his ears flush. Then he swallows his bite and rolls his eyes, tearing off another piece of his roll. “You are a massive cheeseball, my dude.”

Kravitz can’t help but smile - he feels like he’s pouring out every thought he didn’t get to say on that first date, making sure Taako knows. “What can I say? You bring it out in me.”

A bit of bread hits him square between the eyes. “See! Cheese!”

“Bread, actually.”

“Hush,” Taako says with palpable fondness. “Anyway. You don’t have to try so hard to impress me. I’m here for the second date - not everybody gets that far.” He leans over and pats the top of his hand. Taako is warm and his nails are painted a glittery gold - and this time, he didn’t flinch at the cold temperature of Kravitz’s skin. “You’re fine, Krav. Chillax. If you keep up the barrage of compliments and you’ll either seem fake or get laid.”

Images flash through Kravitz's head, though his sense of propriety and respect for Taako do their utmost to chase them away. “I’m - well - I understand your concern,” he manages. “I’ll try and tone it down.”

“Not too much down, though,” Taako says with a wink, and Kravitz laughs, and it’s smooth, and easy, and, if he’s honest, completely charmed. He’d thought the butterflies after their last meeting were bad - they were nothing compared to sitting across from Taako smiling and joking with him, both of them at ease and wanting to be there. And it’s only been five minutes.

“Anyway. You got any good new ghost stories for me?”

-

Additional notes:

this was intended to be a birthday gift for my pal chisky gayjumpluff back at the start of may, but my life got very hectic so now it's nearly july! oh well. hope you like it, my dude! you deserve it. taakitz is eternal.

thanks so so so much to my friend ol ol for betaing this for me! polished it to the shine you've read. this fic is only as good as it is because of their incredible editing skill, much like most of my other fics. they're a champion and a gem.

title is from this snippet of neruda: "Everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, lights, metals, were little boats that sail towards those isles of yours that wait for me."

this was also intended to be a multi-chapter, but i’ve decided it’s now a oneshot!

find me on tumblr at flovvright and on twitter at robinauts!