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Entry tags:
PRIMROSES
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Seraph of the End, panfandom RP
Character(s): Isaac McDougal, Ferid Bathory
Pairing(s): Ferid/Isaac
Word Count: 1,597
Summary: Memories are a funny thing. Maybe he should have saved the flowers for a later date.
Notes: Obviously post-Trustfell round 3 reincarnation fic! I borrowed the world from Peace's fic because reasons.
If Isaac is perfectly honest with himself, he's still not sure how this happened. He could probably blame the alcohol, but that isn't exactly it; he's never had enough to drink in the first place and over the course of several weeks of getting to know the bartender, blaming the alcohol just feels wrong.
Not that he's complaining about the way things have turned out. Why would he? Ferid is unfairly attractive.
Still, things probably shouldn't have progressed this far. If he hadn't returned to the bar or if he hadn't opened his mouth, he certainly wouldn't be in this mess.
How the hell do you choose what flowers to give someone on the second date? There really should be some kind of guide for this.
(Not that he's complaining. Not really. It's just a bit difficult to know what to do in a situation like this, that's all.)
The first date had gone surprisingly well, especially given that it had come after the one night stand and a couple of awkward days of no contact while Isaac tried to recover enough to not make a fool of himself when he returned to the bar. It didn't work. He'd asked Ferid out within five minutes of talking to him. At least Ferid had taken it in stride, though he definitely hadn't expected Ferid to agree so easily. Or at all, really.
At first he'd thought that Ferid was only taking pity on him, but going out to dinner with Ferid had been an incredible experience. Ferid really seemed to like listening to anything Isaac had to tell him (he goes from a knowing smirk to a much softer smile and Isaac wonders if he's aware of it) and when they'd parted for the night it was with the promise of a second date.
Maybe it's too soon to get flowers. Are flowers supposed to be saved for the third date? Should he skip them entirely? Ferid seems like the sort of person who would appreciate flowers though. Roses are probably out since he doesn't want to come off too strong, but surely there's something here...
Primroses.
Isaac couldn't name most of these flowers if he tried. He doesn't know the first thing about flowers, but these... He recognizes these. He has no idea how since he can't remember seeing them anywhere before. Did someone describe them or something? He doesn't question it, because this feels right.
(It felt right to ask Ferid out. It felt right to open up to him in the first place.)
He arrives at Ferid's apartment exactly on time and he's not surprised when Ferid opens the door after only one knock. Ferid barely gets the first half of his greeting out before Isaac's shoving the vase in his hands. Ferid's expression goes from pleased and practiced to something a little stranger, unreadable. He doesn't look bothered, but there's something off about his expression. Isaac shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to figure out what to make of this.
"Primroses, Isaac?" Ferid finally asks. There's something strange in his voice as well, but Isaac can't place it. "They're certainly... interesting."
Is that a good thing? His expression is probably giving him away, since Ferid finally looks up and laughs. Just like that, the practiced expression has returned and Ferid ushers him inside. Everything is back to normal again. "Don't concern yourself with it, Isaac," He says lightly, like it really doesn't matter.
(It does. Ferid's back is to him but he can tell that there's something different about the way he's handling the vase. Ferid's fingers linger over the petals for a moment too long; he spends a bit too much time adjusting the vase so the flowers are in the sun. He hesitates for a bit too long before turning back around; his shoulders are a little tenser than usual.)
"Um," Isaac says to break the silence, "nice place you've got here."
It really is nice; Ferid's decorated the apartment and it's absolutely elegant. The furniture's even arranged in a way that makes it seem much more spacious than it probably is. The view's probably nice too, though he can't see out the window from the doorway.
Ferid lights up at the praise and Isaac's struck again by just how beautiful his (boyfriend?) date is. "Isn't it? I've put quite a bit of time and effort into it. It's my second favorite project!"
"Second favorite?"
"Mhmm." Ferid's smile slips into something sly and Isaac knows immediately what he's going to say. "You're my favorite, you know~"
It takes all of his self-restraint not to bury his face in his hands. "I'm not a project..." He complains half-heartedly and Ferid laughs lightly in response.
They don't banter for much longer (though that's exactly what Ferid calls it, banter even though Isaac's fairly sure it's flirting) before Ferid reaches out for his hand and pulls him back toward the door, humming softly. "So where are we going?" Isaac asks as Ferid locks the door behind them.
"It's a surprise!" He says cheerfully. He doesn't let go of Isaac's hand. Isaac tightens his grip to make sure Ferid won't let go.
("So... You ready to go face everyone?"
"Are you going to be holding my hand on the way out?")
The place Ferid has in mind isn't far away. Isaac recognizes it almost immediately. "Ice skating?" He asks anyway.
He doesn't get a verbal response, just another coy smirk as Ferid pulls him in.
The rink is nearly deserted at this time of day, but Ferid probably knew it would be. He's always at least three steps ahead of Isaac, which makes what he says after he pulls his skates on all the more surprising. "I've never been ice skating before."
Isaac looks over at that, tipping his head a bit. "Seriously? Why'd you take me here, then?"
The words are a bit harsh and he winces, but Ferid doesn't seem to mind any. He stands and he has no problem balancing on the skates. "Well," He starts slowly, as if he has to think about it (he doesn't have to think about it and they both know it), "you always sounded so fond when you spoke of it! I won't have any problems learning, so don't worry too much."
He's definitely not surprised that he just got volunteered into teaching Ferid, but he can't complain any. "You know I'm not a very good teacher."
Ferid takes his hand again without preamble (this is just a thing they do, it isn't strange at all) and heads for the rink. "I doubt you'll have any trouble with a student like me!"
He's right. Ferid learns very quickly and he's just as elegant when he's learning as he is when he's mixing drinks. Is it possible for Ferid to look anything less than perfect? Isaac doubts it. "You should come dancing with me sometime," Ferid muses as he skates circles around Isaac.
"I don't dance," Isaac's reply is immediate, but he hesitates once it's out there. "I don't know how to. And I'm not a fast learner like you are."
"Good thing I'm patient."
It's easy to grab Ferid's hand and pull him closer. That knowing smirk is back on his face and Isaac kind of hates just how easy it is for Ferid to talk him into things.
(He doesn't hate it. But isn't this the first time Ferid's talked him into anything?)
"I guess I'll try. If that's what you want to do for our next date." Isaac can't help but smile a bit in response.
"Will you bring me roses next time?"
They aren't skating anymore, they're just standing there with Ferid pressed against Isaac, his gaze elsewhere so he doesn't have to crane his neck up. At least, that's probably the impression he's trying to give off. Isaac's sure that's not the reason why, but he can't really tell what the reason is.
(Demure is the word that springs to mind, even though he doesn't think Ferid's trying to act that way. He's not sure why it's the first thing he thinks.)
It takes him a moment to consider the question seriously before he responds. "No."
"Oh?" That does get Ferid to pull back a bit to look up at him.
"Primroses," Isaac responds simply. "It'll always be primroses."
Ferid's expression goes oddly blank again and he seems to be trying to work out what to do with that. "Why primroses?" He finally asks and though he's trying to smile, it doesn't look very genuine.
Isaac knows the answer to that, but he's also not sure how he knows.
("But I... I'll give you a primrose someday, alright? I don't care how long it takes. Someday I'll remember.")
"I promised you I'd get you a primrose." A pause. "I think?"
That gets Ferid to inhale sharply and pull away. His balance is good, but for a moment he wobbles on his skates before he manages to catch himself. He leaves the rink before Isaac can think to go after him. "Ferid, wait—"
"I'm sorry," Ferid says with a voice that's entirely too cheerful for the reaction he just had, "I need to go." He's not looking at Isaac. He's smiling, but the expression isn't genuine either.
Isaac doesn't pursue him. He'll kick himself for that later, but for the time being he can't bring himself to move.
Maybe the roses wouldn't have been as forward.
Character(s): Isaac McDougal, Ferid Bathory
Pairing(s): Ferid/Isaac
Word Count: 1,597
Summary: Memories are a funny thing. Maybe he should have saved the flowers for a later date.
Notes: Obviously post-Trustfell round 3 reincarnation fic! I borrowed the world from Peace's fic because reasons.
If Isaac is perfectly honest with himself, he's still not sure how this happened. He could probably blame the alcohol, but that isn't exactly it; he's never had enough to drink in the first place and over the course of several weeks of getting to know the bartender, blaming the alcohol just feels wrong.
Not that he's complaining about the way things have turned out. Why would he? Ferid is unfairly attractive.
Still, things probably shouldn't have progressed this far. If he hadn't returned to the bar or if he hadn't opened his mouth, he certainly wouldn't be in this mess.
How the hell do you choose what flowers to give someone on the second date? There really should be some kind of guide for this.
(Not that he's complaining. Not really. It's just a bit difficult to know what to do in a situation like this, that's all.)
The first date had gone surprisingly well, especially given that it had come after the one night stand and a couple of awkward days of no contact while Isaac tried to recover enough to not make a fool of himself when he returned to the bar. It didn't work. He'd asked Ferid out within five minutes of talking to him. At least Ferid had taken it in stride, though he definitely hadn't expected Ferid to agree so easily. Or at all, really.
At first he'd thought that Ferid was only taking pity on him, but going out to dinner with Ferid had been an incredible experience. Ferid really seemed to like listening to anything Isaac had to tell him (he goes from a knowing smirk to a much softer smile and Isaac wonders if he's aware of it) and when they'd parted for the night it was with the promise of a second date.
Maybe it's too soon to get flowers. Are flowers supposed to be saved for the third date? Should he skip them entirely? Ferid seems like the sort of person who would appreciate flowers though. Roses are probably out since he doesn't want to come off too strong, but surely there's something here...
Primroses.
Isaac couldn't name most of these flowers if he tried. He doesn't know the first thing about flowers, but these... He recognizes these. He has no idea how since he can't remember seeing them anywhere before. Did someone describe them or something? He doesn't question it, because this feels right.
(It felt right to ask Ferid out. It felt right to open up to him in the first place.)
He arrives at Ferid's apartment exactly on time and he's not surprised when Ferid opens the door after only one knock. Ferid barely gets the first half of his greeting out before Isaac's shoving the vase in his hands. Ferid's expression goes from pleased and practiced to something a little stranger, unreadable. He doesn't look bothered, but there's something off about his expression. Isaac shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to figure out what to make of this.
"Primroses, Isaac?" Ferid finally asks. There's something strange in his voice as well, but Isaac can't place it. "They're certainly... interesting."
Is that a good thing? His expression is probably giving him away, since Ferid finally looks up and laughs. Just like that, the practiced expression has returned and Ferid ushers him inside. Everything is back to normal again. "Don't concern yourself with it, Isaac," He says lightly, like it really doesn't matter.
(It does. Ferid's back is to him but he can tell that there's something different about the way he's handling the vase. Ferid's fingers linger over the petals for a moment too long; he spends a bit too much time adjusting the vase so the flowers are in the sun. He hesitates for a bit too long before turning back around; his shoulders are a little tenser than usual.)
"Um," Isaac says to break the silence, "nice place you've got here."
It really is nice; Ferid's decorated the apartment and it's absolutely elegant. The furniture's even arranged in a way that makes it seem much more spacious than it probably is. The view's probably nice too, though he can't see out the window from the doorway.
Ferid lights up at the praise and Isaac's struck again by just how beautiful his (boyfriend?) date is. "Isn't it? I've put quite a bit of time and effort into it. It's my second favorite project!"
"Second favorite?"
"Mhmm." Ferid's smile slips into something sly and Isaac knows immediately what he's going to say. "You're my favorite, you know~"
It takes all of his self-restraint not to bury his face in his hands. "I'm not a project..." He complains half-heartedly and Ferid laughs lightly in response.
They don't banter for much longer (though that's exactly what Ferid calls it, banter even though Isaac's fairly sure it's flirting) before Ferid reaches out for his hand and pulls him back toward the door, humming softly. "So where are we going?" Isaac asks as Ferid locks the door behind them.
"It's a surprise!" He says cheerfully. He doesn't let go of Isaac's hand. Isaac tightens his grip to make sure Ferid won't let go.
("So... You ready to go face everyone?"
"Are you going to be holding my hand on the way out?")
The place Ferid has in mind isn't far away. Isaac recognizes it almost immediately. "Ice skating?" He asks anyway.
He doesn't get a verbal response, just another coy smirk as Ferid pulls him in.
The rink is nearly deserted at this time of day, but Ferid probably knew it would be. He's always at least three steps ahead of Isaac, which makes what he says after he pulls his skates on all the more surprising. "I've never been ice skating before."
Isaac looks over at that, tipping his head a bit. "Seriously? Why'd you take me here, then?"
The words are a bit harsh and he winces, but Ferid doesn't seem to mind any. He stands and he has no problem balancing on the skates. "Well," He starts slowly, as if he has to think about it (he doesn't have to think about it and they both know it), "you always sounded so fond when you spoke of it! I won't have any problems learning, so don't worry too much."
He's definitely not surprised that he just got volunteered into teaching Ferid, but he can't complain any. "You know I'm not a very good teacher."
Ferid takes his hand again without preamble (this is just a thing they do, it isn't strange at all) and heads for the rink. "I doubt you'll have any trouble with a student like me!"
He's right. Ferid learns very quickly and he's just as elegant when he's learning as he is when he's mixing drinks. Is it possible for Ferid to look anything less than perfect? Isaac doubts it. "You should come dancing with me sometime," Ferid muses as he skates circles around Isaac.
"I don't dance," Isaac's reply is immediate, but he hesitates once it's out there. "I don't know how to. And I'm not a fast learner like you are."
"Good thing I'm patient."
It's easy to grab Ferid's hand and pull him closer. That knowing smirk is back on his face and Isaac kind of hates just how easy it is for Ferid to talk him into things.
(He doesn't hate it. But isn't this the first time Ferid's talked him into anything?)
"I guess I'll try. If that's what you want to do for our next date." Isaac can't help but smile a bit in response.
"Will you bring me roses next time?"
They aren't skating anymore, they're just standing there with Ferid pressed against Isaac, his gaze elsewhere so he doesn't have to crane his neck up. At least, that's probably the impression he's trying to give off. Isaac's sure that's not the reason why, but he can't really tell what the reason is.
(Demure is the word that springs to mind, even though he doesn't think Ferid's trying to act that way. He's not sure why it's the first thing he thinks.)
It takes him a moment to consider the question seriously before he responds. "No."
"Oh?" That does get Ferid to pull back a bit to look up at him.
"Primroses," Isaac responds simply. "It'll always be primroses."
Ferid's expression goes oddly blank again and he seems to be trying to work out what to do with that. "Why primroses?" He finally asks and though he's trying to smile, it doesn't look very genuine.
Isaac knows the answer to that, but he's also not sure how he knows.
("But I... I'll give you a primrose someday, alright? I don't care how long it takes. Someday I'll remember.")
"I promised you I'd get you a primrose." A pause. "I think?"
That gets Ferid to inhale sharply and pull away. His balance is good, but for a moment he wobbles on his skates before he manages to catch himself. He leaves the rink before Isaac can think to go after him. "Ferid, wait—"
"I'm sorry," Ferid says with a voice that's entirely too cheerful for the reaction he just had, "I need to go." He's not looking at Isaac. He's smiling, but the expression isn't genuine either.
Isaac doesn't pursue him. He'll kick himself for that later, but for the time being he can't bring himself to move.
Maybe the roses wouldn't have been as forward.