Amir's never seen him before, but he's breathtaking.
He's on the phone when he comes in, and Amir almost doesn't even notice; he doesn't pay attention to customers unless they start yelling, but when he looks up from pressing random buttons to see what noises the cash register can make he's right there, phone to his ear, staring up at the specials board.
Sarah moves over to talk to him, pad out to take his order, and Amir watches, trying to commit to memory the way he moves, the way he talks.
“Hey, Jake, what can I get you?” Sarah smiles at him, and he hangs up the phone, leaning against the counter to smile at her.
“Yeah, could I get three mochas, two vanilla lattes, and an iced coffee?”
Amir laughs, and when he looks at him it feels like standing in a sunbeam. “Wow, someone's thirsty.”
He laughs too, and Sarah shakes her head. “He's not joking.”
“Oh. They're not all for me.”
“Then why are you ordering them?”
He looks at Sarah and she just shrugs at him, then starts moving to make his coffees. He looks like he's trying not to make eye contact, looking around as he drums his hands against his thighs. He's trying so hard to be casual, but Amir can see it, can tell the way the movement is stilted, just a little, that he's doing it on purpose. He's trying to look like he isn't trying.
It's fascinating. Amir is fascinated by him.
He grabs a random takeout cup from the side of the register, and Sarah usually tells him not to help but he has to keep talking to him, has to figure him out.
“Name?” He says, sharpie poised over the paper cup.
“...Jake,” he says after a long moment, and Amir scribbles it down.
Jake. He's never noticed it before, but he thinks that might be the most perfect name in the world.
Jake leans over the counter to watch him write it, scowling. “Do you think that's how you spell Jake?”
“Is it not?”
“You think it's J J K A E?”
“Right, right. Yeah. Of course not,” He says, and hesitates before crossing out the E at the end.
Jake shakes his head, eyes narrowed, but then Sarah puts down an iced coffee in front of him and that seems to distract him.
“Thanks, Sarah. I needed this. It's been a pretty stressful day at the office.”
“Yeah?” She says, but she's not paying attention, busy with making the rest of Jake's order.
Amir's attention is fully on him, though, even as he only spares him a cursory glance before he keeps talking to Sarah.
“Yeah, you know, it's hard to have a job that's important and pays a lot because there's a lot of pressure, but no one else could do it, so— I like to think I'm giving back.”
She laughs. “What exactly is your job, Jake?”
“You know. Emails,” He laughs, and Amir laughs along with him even though he has no idea what he's talking about.
“Right,” Sarah says, and goes back to what she was doing. Jake is watching her work, and Amir is watching him watch her, eyes narrowed. Huh. He's interested in Sarah. That's fine. Amir could help him, probably, as long as Jake lets him hang out around him in return.
“Dinner tonight?” He asks, and Jake chokes on his coffee.
“What?” He squeaks, eyes wide, and when Amir shrugs he laughs awkwardly. “I'm not gay. Right, Sarah?”
“Okay,” she shouts over, but Amir knows she's not listening.
“So is that a yes, or?”
“It's a no. It was obviously a no, right?”
He narrows his eyes as Sarah brings over the rest of his order, placing them in a pair of cup holders for him to carry. “Here you go. Cash or card?”
“Card,” he says, pulling it out of his wallet, then looks back up to make eye contact with Sarah, “company card.”
“Wow,” she says, and Amir can tell she's unimpressed, but he's enamored.
“Wow,” Amir echoes, but he means it, and when Jake looks up to meet his eyes he looks surprised to find Amir looking at him.
He watches Jake struggle to balance everything as he heads out the door, and thinks to himself yeah. He's the one.
“What's the deal with Jake?” He asks, and Sarah looks up from her puzzle, strewn out across the kitchen table.
“Who?”
“Jake,” he repeats, and Sarah still just shrugs, “from the coffee.”
“Oh, yeah. I know him from back home, we used to hang out when we were kids.” She shuffles the pieces around, trying to get a view of all of them, frowning. “Have you been messing with my puzzle?”
“No, focus, okay,” he says, dropping down heavily into the chair opposite her, “Jake.”
Sarah shrugs. “What about him?”
“Everything,” he smiles, “everything about him.”
“Tell me what you did to my puzzle and maybe I'll tell you about Jake. Maybe.”
“God, I didn't do shit to your stupid puzzle, okay, shut up about the puzzle, this is— is— is— is— this is insane—”
“Have you been eating the pieces?” Sarah says, seriously. “Because you shouldn't be doing that. It makes you sick and it ruins my puzzle.”
“Oh my god, no,” he scoffs, even though he absolutely has been eating the pieces, “can you stop talking about your puzzle for five freaking seconds so we can talk about what actually matters here?”
“What?”
Amir laughs, cutting himself off after a second. “Jake. Obviously.”
“Do you like Jake?”
“Do you?”
Sarah gags. “Jesus, oh my god, no. Ew. Gross.”
There's a pause, while Sarah is clearly thinking, but he isn't sure what about. He eats another one of the pieces just to have something to do.
“It's okay if you do though,” she says eventually, “he's— fine. He's nice.”
Amir nods, and pulls out his notebook, scratching down fine, and then nice in bigger letters underneath it.
“Fine and nice,” he says as he writes, “what else?”
“Seriously?”
“Just answer the question, bitch,” he meets her eyes and she laughs, offended like he's said something bad.
“What question?”
“Tell me about Jake!”
“That's not a question.”
“Fine, okay, what are his parents full names, what was the exact place and time of his birth, where does he live, shit like that! Just tell me.”
Sarah shakes her head. “I'm not gonna do that, because that's really creepy, Amir, but I do think it's adorable that you have a crush so I'll tell you that his last name is Hurwitz and you can just look him up on Facebook.”
Amir writes that down, turning it over in his head. Jake Hurwitz. Interesting.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, closing his notebook, “I appreciate you doing that for me. I won't eat anymore of your puzzle pieces.”
Sarah looks conflicted. “I guess thank you, but I really wish you hadn't been doing that to begin with—”
He's already stopped listening, pulling out his phone to try and track down Jake Hurwitz.
He comes into the shop the next day scowling.
“Jake!” Amir grins as soon as he sees him. He's like the sun; the room feels warmer just by him being in it.
Jake shoves his phone into Amir's face. “Do you wanna tell me why I have two hundred and thirty four Facebook notification emails?”
“Uh, because you're a popular and handsome dude? I don't know, man—”
“You absolutely should know, because they're all from you.”
“Really? Yeah, that's interesting—”
“It's interesting? This is interesting— hey bro, wanna become friends? Add me on FB so we can go to the D.”
“That was a typo.”
“Which part?” He screeches, but then he takes a deep breath like he's trying to calm himself down. It's cute. “Nevermind. I'm not your bro, okay, and— and I hope by the D you don't mean your dick.”
Amir shakes his head. “I only called you my bro once, okay, literally just once, and no, the D is— Mc D's, okay McDonald's, yeah—”
“Right, yeah, you clarified that— hey bro—”
“No—”
“Yeah, you start every single message with hey bro. So you lied to me, just then.”
He nods, looking down. “I am shame.”
“Hey bro, sorry to double text— this is your eighty fifth message, by the way— but just wanted to clear up that by the D’s I mean I want to get dinner with you at the McDonald's. We could eat noogs and talk about your jeans. What is this, man?”
Amir shrugs. “Flirting?”
“What?” Jake yells, loud enough that it gets Sarah's attention in the back. She wanders out from the kitchen and Jake goes redder than he was before.
“Jake, hi,” Sarah smiles, “what's up?”
“Nothing, alright everything's fine,” he runs a hand through his hair, and it was already a mess but he messes it up even more, “could I just get an iced coffee?”
She frowns at him, but starts making his coffee anyway. “Jesus, Jake, what's wrong?”
“I'm fine, I just don't want this weirdo—”
“Amir-do,” he says, hoping Jake will smile, but he doesn't, just looks at him like he thinks he's insane. Amir doesn't mind. He's just happy to have Jake looking at him at all.
“I'm assuming that's your name, but I wouldn't know, because I don't care enough to read your name tag, and we're not friends.”
“I thought you added him back on Facebook?” Sarah puts his coffee down in front of him and he scoffs, offended.
“What, you think I check out the profiles of every single person I add? I don't give a crud who I'm friends with. I have three hundred and thirteen Facebook friends, okay? You think it's— every time I get a friend request, I open Facebook and I go, oh, wow, who's this, oh, Amir Blumenfeld, yeah, maybe I know him from the coffee house? I'm busy, Sarah. I get into Crimson.”
“You got into Crimson?” Amir asks, eyes wide.
“He doesn't,” Sarah says quietly before turning back to Jake, “you said his last name just now, though. So you obviously did do that.”
“Did I? Did I actually, though?” He asks, genuinely surprised, and when Sarah nods he frowns again, going back on the defensive. “It was just a lucky guess, oh my god.”
Amir gasps. “Woah. Soulmates.”
Jake holds his gaze for a long moment, eyes harsh, waiting for him to break. It makes Amir smile.
“No,” he says harshly, like it's a command.
Amir doesn't take commands very well. “Dinner tonight?”
He grabs his coffee and slams the door behind him as he leaves.
“Jake, wait— he didn't pay,” Sarah says as they watch him leave, already halfway down the block.
“He can have it. He deserves it.”
She sighs. “That's not really up to you, Amir.”
She seems annoyed, but goes back to whatever she was doing before in the kitchen, leaving him alone again at the counter. Soulmates, Amir thinks, grinning to himself as he presses more buttons on the register.
“Hey, Jake. Dinner tonight?”
“Woah, fast with the dinner thing today,” he says, barely through the front door, “you're not even gonna pretend to talk about something else first?”
“What else?” He shrugs, grinning, and Jake rolls his eyes like he always does. It does seem like he's maybe less annoyed with him than normal, though. Maybe he's actually warming up to Amir. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.
“Nevermind, could I just get my coffee, please?”
“Sarah's not here right now,” he shrugs, gesturing vaguely outside, “she's coming back soon, probably. Maybe. I don't know where she went, but it's probably not that far.”
Jake just stares at him silently for a long moment. “Can't... you do it?”
“Oh, I don't work here,” he shrugs, and Jake narrows his eyes.
“You're behind the cash register every single time I come in here.”
“I just like the buttons, ass.”
“Wow, okay, really aggressive straight away.” He glances around but his eyes end up back on Amir, head tilted in curiosity. “Why do they let you behind the counter?”
“Sarah says it's easier to keep me as close as possible to stop me from causing problems.”
“That makes a lot of sense, actually,” Jake mumbles, nodding to himself, “so you and Sarah are— close?”
“She's my roommate,” he says, and Jake's eyes go wide for a second before he blinks hard and clears his throat, leaning against the counter and obviously pretending to be casual.
“You know, maybe we should have dinner. At your place. We could— we could do the D’s, right? As long as we eat it at your place.”
Amir feels like his heart is beating so fast it could explode. “Really?”
“Yeah, sure. That's— that's awesome, buddy. Let's do it.”
“Yeah! Let's go right now, Jakey.”
“Don't call me that, and how about we go later, when it's not the middle of the work day, okay?”
“Perfect, it's a date.”
“It is not.”
“You didn't let me finish— it's a first date.”
“Wow, okay, so you were finished, you just wanted to say a different thing. Still no.”
“C’mon, Jakey, why not?”
“Well, first of all, don't call me Jakey,” he starts, counting them off on his fingers as he goes through his list, “second, because I'm not gay, obviously, and third because first dates are the worst. You just gotta sit there and figure out if you like someone? That's the hardest part. That's the worst part. It's terrible.”
“It doesn't have to be terrible. It could be fun if you had the right datee for your Jakey.”
“Amir,” he says, voice harsh, and Amir holds his hands up.
“No Jakey, right,” he says, and Jake nods, the hint of a smile playing at his lips.
Sarah has already answered the door, but he pretty much pushes her out of the way when he sees him.
“Jake! Dinner tonight?”
“I already said I would,” he mumbles, like he doesn't want Sarah to hear, “I brought nuggets.”
She shoots him a look, like she's happy for him, but he doesn't want to waste too much of his Jake time looking at Sarah, so he doesn't pay it too much attention.
“Okay,” she says, rubbing her arm where Amir pushed her before, “I'll get out of your way, you guys have fun.”
Jake reaches out like he's thinking about grabbing her arm, but changes his mind, pulling his hand back at the last minute. “Wait, Sarah, you're not gonna eat with us?”
She shakes her head, already moving back towards her room. “I'm good. I wouldn't wanna get in the way.”
“You wouldn't be in the way!” Jake smiles, looking to Amir like he wants him to say something.
“She probably would be. A little bit.”
Sarah turns and disappears into her room and Jake walks inside, tossing the McDonald's bag onto the table.
“Well, this blows. I'm just gonna go home.”
“No, no no no no no, just wait, okay, we can hang out! We can— we can— can— can chill.”
“We can chill? God, you're such a loser.”
Amir swallows hard, tears pricking at his eyes, trying to forget that Jake said that. It's not hard. He's good at forgetting what makes him sad. In a minute he won't even remember what he's upset about.
“We could eat,” he says, trying to position himself between Jake and the door so he can catch him if he runs, “we could talk.”
“Talk about what? What could you and I possibly have in common?”
“I could tell you about Sarah,” he says, because anything that gets Jake to keep talking to him is good for now.
Jake stops in his tracks where he was pacing, trying to get himself to leave. “Yeah?” he says after a long moment, and Amir nods.
“Yeah. If you even wanna know—”
“I don't,” he hisses, but pulls up a chair and sits down in it anyway, tearing into the nuggets, “but if I did— is she— is she dating anyone?”
“She's kinda seeing this guy David, who's awesome, but she's also kinda seeing this guy Pat, who sucks. So yeah, I guess.”
“Shit,” Jake says, cracking open a tub of barbecue sauce, “is it serious?”
“With which one?”
“I don't know. Either. Both.”
“No? I don't know. David has a motorcycle, so that seems kinda serious.”
Jake looks disappointed, and Amir reaches out to pat his arm in a reassuring, friend type of way. It's the first time he's gotten to touch him— he wishes Jake wanted to touch him back.
“Man,” Jake sighs, eating another nugget and not closing his mouth when he chews it, “I always thought I had a shot with her. I never should've dated her sister.”
“You dated Hallie?” Amir asks, and it makes him smile because he knew they'd have things in common. Soulmates. “I dated Hallie. That makes us boyfriends in law.”
“You dated Hallie?” He says, shocked, brow furrowed like he's confused.
“Uh, yeah?”
“I thought you were— you know.”
“What?”
“You know.”
“No, what?”
“C’mon, man, it's— I thought you were gay.”
“Oh,” Amir laughs, “no. I'm bi.”
“You're bi?”
“Yeah, it means—”
“I know what it means, ass, I was just repeating it in surprise.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Jake watches him for a minute, just eating their nuggets, until he breaks the silence again. “I'm not homophobic.”
“Okay?”
“Or biphobic, or whatever.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, I bought one of those gay American Apparel shirts. Legalize gay?”
“Okay?”
“And I always correct people when they say a slur.”
“I mean, okay—”
“And I'm bi, so I can't be homophobic.” He goes quiet at the end like he was trying to bury that part, but Amir heard him, obviously, is tightly tuned into his every word.
“You can be bi and still be homophobic,” he shrugs, and Jake looks up at him, eyes wide.
“You— did you not hear what I said? About being bi?”
“Yeah? What about it?”
He shrugs again, but it's smaller this time, like he's lost confidence in the gesture. “I don't know. I've never told anyone before. I guess I thought you'd have something to say about it.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I don't know, okay? I'm new at being bi, I haven't told anyone yet, I don't what to expect—”
“What to expect? From being bi? It's pretty straightforward, Jake. Or should I say, it's forward, but— the straight— it's forward straight— it's not straight.”
“Wow, that was really bad,” Jake says, but he looks— relieved. Happy, maybe, but Amir might be making that one up.
“It was fine, it was good—”
“It wasn't,” Jake smiles, and crushes the empty McDonald's bag under his hand. He looks around, like he's only just remembered where he is, the paper crinkling under his fingers. “I should probably get going. I gotta— I should go home.”
Amir nods, and tries not to look so upset. “Right, yeah. Sorry you didn't get to see Sarah.”
“Right. Sarah,” he nods, eyes narrowed like he'd forgotten, maybe, that he only came over for one reason. Amir hopes he's right. He hopes maybe even though Jake came for Sarah, he might come back for him.
“You wanna try again tomorrow?” He asks, and he knows it's a long shot but he saw the look in Jake's eye, feels hopeful enough that he might actually say yes.
He thinks about it for a while. Amir can see the way he turns it over in his head, thinking it through. Always thinking.
“Yeah,” he says after a long moment, and Amir can't stop grinning, “okay.”
Amir was busy trying to get a penny that rolled under the counter when he hears the door open, feeling through pure instinct that it was Jake. He can just tell. It's his gift.
It's raining like hell outside and he's soaked to the bone, jacket zipped all the way up to his chin but no hood. He looks— soggy. He looks cold, and small, and Amir wants to put him in his pocket and keep him there.
“Wow,” he says instead of any of the emotion churning in his chest, and Jake shakes the water off of his hair like a dog.
“I'm gonna get so fucking sick,” he mumbles, and he's shivering a little but seems to be warming up in the heated interior of the coffee shop.
Amir laughs. “You can't get sick from being outside, man. That's just nature.”
“You have no idea what you're talking about.”
“I'm serious. My cousin Leron has an ex that has a master's degree in like, rain or some shit.”
“Rain?”
“Or some shit, yeah.”
“Get a coffee,” he says instead of responding, and Amir rolls his eyes.
“Alright, ass, do you want it iced, or—”
“No. Hot, c’mon,” he says, and then there's a second of hesitation, the kind Amir can only pick up on because he's so closely watching Jake's every move, “get yourself one, too.”
“What?”
“Get a coffee for you, and then get one for me, and we're both gonna sit at that table, and we're gonna drink them. Okay?”
Amir hesitates, but nods, even though he doesn't know what's going on. “Why?”
“Just do it, ass.”
He does, or, at least, he tells Sarah to, and when they're both ready he takes them out to where Jake has sat himself down at the corner booth table, shivering even though it's the table closest to the space heater. Amir slides into the seat right next to him, same side of the booth, and he fully expects Jake to tell him to move, struggling to hide his surprise when Jake doesn't. He just takes his coffee and has a long sip, letting the hot liquid warm him, and pressing against Amir a little as they sit side by side.
Amir narrows his eyes at him. “What are you doing?”
“Where'd you grow up?” He asks instead of answering Amir's question.
He shrugs and just answers. “Niagara Falls.”
“Inside the volcano?”
“Volcano?”
“Waterfall, I meant waterfall, I misspoke—”
“I'm sorry, do you think volcanoes are huge and made of rocks and spew water everywhere?”
“I mean, two of those things are actually true about volcanoes.”
“This is rich, man. This is too good.”
“You're milking it, man, and I'm gonna leave if you don’t—”
“Alright, alright, jeez, okay, I'm sorry, you don't have to make it into a— a— a— public shaming of me.”
“Public, there's pretty much no one else here—”
“You're making a martyr of me.”
Jake shakes his head, and drinks a big gulp of his coffee. “I can't believe I thought this was a good idea.”
“What?” He asks, but Jake just shakes his head.
“Getting the hard part over with,” he says, and takes a deep breath before he continues, “so, what do you do for work?”
Amir looks around, confused. “I work here?”
“I thought you said you didn't work here.”
“Eh,” he squeaks, shrugging, and and Jake looks annoyed and endeared by it at the same time. He hopes that's a good sign.
“Okay, that's enough of that,” he downs the rest of his coffee and gestures for Amir to do the same, “let's get going.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’re walking me home,” he says, and Amir nods even though it's torrential outside.
He throws on his coat, puffy and warm and built for the New York winters, and follows Jake outside into the downpour, striding to catch back up with him.
Jake's apartment is around the corner from the shop, barely a few minutes away, but it feels like longer, fighting against the rain and trying to keep his eyes on Jake, trying to read what he's thinking. Trying to separate the twisted strands of difference between what Amir can tell he's thinking and what he hopes he's thinking.
Jake pulls him under the awning over the front door of his building by the front of Amir's jacket, saving him from the rain. It's still pounding against the sidewalk just barely beyond their cover; Amir can still feel it against his hand, barely shielded from the downpour.
When he looks up Jake is watching him. It's been a whirlwind since he came in, today, and Amir has a feeling he knows why, has a suspicion he understands Jake's desire to speed through this as fast as possible. The hard part.
They're so close together he can feel Jake's breath against his lips, startlingly warm against the chill, and there's rain dripping down his nose and he's so fucking beautiful Amir can barely stomach it.
“Why—”
“I was trying to figure something out,” Jake says, and Amir's eyes move down to watch his lips as he forms the words.
“Oh,” Amir says, brow furrowed. “Did you?”
Jake looks out at the rain, watching the world go past, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“What was it?” He asks, but he has a feeling he already knows.
Jake leans in and kisses him.
“I can't believe this,” Jake sniffles into his blanket, shivering on the couch.
Amir pulls him closer against his chest, trying to warm him up. “I mean, I don't wanna say I told you so, but—”
“You didn't. You didn't tell me so. You told me I wouldn't get sick. You told me your cousin's ex said you can't get sick from nature.”
“Uh, that doesn't sound true, Jakey,” he says, watching the way the blush dusts his cheeks, savoring the way Jake doesn't correct him on the nickname. Amir kisses him on the tip of his nose, and then presses their lips together, heart pounding in his chest.
“You're gonna get sick,” Jake warns, and Amir just shrugs.
“Eh,” he squeaks in a high pitched voice that makes Jake smile, “we should be sick together. Soulmates.”
Jake smiles, then rolls his eyes and sips his soup.