Summary:Jimmy and Darcy go on a date. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Bleh, /reality/. Turns out, Tavern on the Green wasn't so happy about someone rolling in on skates, so they regrouped for plan B. They each went home quickly, primarily so Jimmy could deposit his school books back at home, and Darcy could get a pair of unwheeled shoes. Through text messages, they sort through just where to go, and land on this idea.
Shawarma Palace. Normally, a messy option like kebabs would be a terrible idea for a first date. So, Jimmy figures that it's perfect for a first date that's playing it cool and low-pressure. The kind of first date where it's /fine/ to get sauce all over your chin. But he's still a little bit tense, and arrives a little early to hang by the door. How does he get places so fast? He doesn't have a car parked outside.
He's got Uber on speed dial. It's the only way to live in New York.
Darcy takes a bit longer. She hopped in the shower to get Central Park rolling skating smell off, but didn't bother with the rest of the pre-date ritual of shaving everything down to smoothness. She didnt' even wash her hair since waist length hair takes forever to dry. After donning clean clothes that are more modest that booty shorts, Darcy made her way to the Schwrma Place, clomping her way in her scuffed up army surplus boots. Seeing Jimmy there has her smiling, pausing at the start of the block, and waving hugely until he spots her. Then she continues on her way, steps a little faster.
"Hi, handsome! Come here often?" she greets him even as she's shifting up to tip toes to throw her arms about his neck for a hug. The height difference is now painfully obvious as the skates had given her half a foot extra.
Jimmy doesn't take long to spot her; there's the sense of her mind as well as the sight of her waving. Not that she knows that yet. He turns and smiles back at her, giving her a lighter wave of his own as he pulls the door open for her. The hug makes him 'oof', a slight flush to his cheeks. He never seems to expect it. His free arm hooks about her waist to help her keep stable. "Sometimes! It's a nice place, low-key. H-How about you, where do you tend to go?"
Caught and steadied, Darcy gifts Jimmy with a peck on the cheek before pulling away and slipping through the door backwards.
The trouble with Darcy and backwards is that there is a complete difference between Darcy Backwards On Wheels and Darcy Backwards NOT On Wheels; one is significantly more graceful than the other.
It's not the one you'd expect.
"Oh, me? I like ta-ah! Whoa, fuck." Darcy stumbles a bit as the sole of her heel catches the door jam, but she's steady enough and remains on her feet with a giggle.
"Watch yer step. Is a doozy! What was I-? Oh, right. I like taco trucks. And hot wings at the bar down by the rink. And pizza. Really, I'm not a food-leetist. I am an equal opportunity nomnommer," is rambled on, having laughed off what others might have thought was the embarassment of tripping on their own two feet.
Hey now, she didn't trip on her own two feet. She tripped on a door jamb. Completely different thing. Jimmy's still there with a hand on the middle of her back, helping her to keep from toppling. "That's good. Nice and broad. I like a bit of everything, too. Just as long as there's no mushrooms. That's one thing I just could never get behind. I know that doesn't make me a fun guy." Yes. Yes he did just say that. Looking across the room, there's no line; it's clear for them to go ahead and order, and get this thing underway.
Darcy laughs at the mushroom quip, winking.
"Drats! That was teh deal breaker," she teases. Leaning into his hand on her back, Darcy settles into walking at his side, a smile on her face. Calm and hopeful and a tiny bit anxious, Darcy skims teh menu.
"Wanna grab a couple of different things and then just share it all? You're popping my Schwarma cherry after all."
Jimmy chokes on those words, giving her a hard stare. "Did you /need/ to put it like that?" Ah, there it is. Classic Jimmy blush. "A-And sure, yeah. It's like doner kebabs" She could see the spits behind the counter. "but they use a different kind of sauce, and more of a full salad as the toppings. Maybe one of us gets a flatbread, the other gets a regular pita? Different meats? Always been fond of chicken." He may be rambling a bit at this point.
"If you're going to blush for me like that? Hell yes," Darcy retorts unapologetically, smile devilsh, eyes tracing over his cheeks and thae color. But! On to the menu.
"Sounds awesome. I'll go first," she says, breaking step with Jimmy to approach the counter to order. As she's talking, eyes on the menu, her hand dips into the front of her shirt for her debit card. Because carrying a purse with actual valuables in it, in New York, is like a neon sign ASKING to get mugged.
Jimmy then digs himself in deeper, because he doesn't just blush. He pouts, and even folds his arms over his chest. He brings his attention up to the counter, and luckily for his heart, doesn't see just where she gets the card from. Yet, he still lifts a hand. "Ah, my treat. You got the donuts before." It's not some Traditional Gender Role thing. It's a quid-pro-quo Cinnamon Roll thing.
Darcy glances back over her shoulder, surprise on her face.
"You sure? I don't mind," she adds, not wanting to have just assumed that because Date he was going to pay because Man. That's stupid. But, if he wants to pay, she'll let him, slipping hte card back into her bra.
"I'll get the next one then," she states, because it's totally okay to assume a next time until both are like 'nah. we good now'.
Jimmy smiles, the expression a little excited yet a little bashful, as she already suggests a 'next one'. He nods to her. "That sounds fair. Back and forth. So…" He steps in close, behind her and a little to one side. "You want to go first? Get what you'd like, and I'll order something different after so we have some variety."
"Love the way you think, Jim-Beam." Yes… Beam. She knows it's Bean, but Beam makes him sound like something you can climb, instead of like… a small legume shaped like a kidney… or a testicle. Turning back to the counter guy, Darcy leans back so she can see (and set her shoulder against Jim). Some steak and pork kebabs are ordered, with flatbread like naan bread, and all the veggies (but the mushrooms on the side), and three of teh different dippie sauces.
And a large-ass Coca-cola. Fuck the calories!
The nickname gets a sidelong look. "Are you calling me bourbon?" Just can't win.
His eyebrows lift, surprised by the extent of her appetite. Girl must be a blast furnace to keep up a figure like that with that kind of appetite. But other than showing his surprise, he says nothing. He goes for a chicken kebab on pita, and topped just with the finely-diced tabbouleh salad. And French fries, because may as well add some salty carbs on top of all the other calories. There are plenty of dipping sauces already. Once they have their kebabs, he leads to a two-person table, coming in ahead enough to pull the chair out for her.
"Only cause I'd love to do shots of you," Darcy quips, grinning and waiting for her blush. When she has it, she settles, content and quiet, while he orders and pays, and she helps carry everything over to the table.
"Oop, thanks, Gorgeous," she says with a smile as she settles into the pulled out chair. She's a bit of a blast furnace. She also skates on nearly a daily basis, so, there's that. She waits for him to seat, sating herself on sips of soda, before offering him one of her kebobs while taking another.
"Have some of my meat."
Jimmy doesn't just blush. He gives her a long, hard, wide-eyed stare. Perhaps he's trying to figure out just what 'doing shots of him' means. He's probably thinking about it a lot more than Darcy originally had.
He slips into his own chair, and pulls out of his reverie. In time for her to make that offer. He gives her a dubious look. "Isn't the guy usually the one suggesting that?" It makes him blush to say it, but he /is/ trying to fire back. And then he dips in and takes a bite of the pork kebab, while he holds out his own pita-wrapped offer.
Way more. She was covering up her own mind's lack of thinking of Jim Beam as the liquor.
"Yeah? Well, discrimination is stupid," she offers in return before mimicking him and taking a nom-bite of the offered pita thing. She hums softly, thoughtfully, not orgasmically.
Oh thank goodness for that. If she isn't as vocal about shawarma as she is about cinnamon rolls, then Jimmy might just survive this date without his head exploding. He smiles through his own bite, purring his appreciation, and soon swallows. "True. I just mean the… no, never mind." He's not going to go into any more detail about 'meat'. "So, I know you're in poli sci. I know you like roller derby and getting a rise out of poor, vulnerable, blushing people. I know you'll probably kick any bigot up between the legs, whatever they're bigoted about." What is there to ask about here, then? "What's your favourite kind of music?"
A purr? The sound sraws Darcy's eyes, pulling a broad and devious grin to her face. This is a sound she aims to get him to make again.
"Depends on my mood. Katy Perry's hot. The Great Christina's always fine. Ugly Kid Joe, Steam Powered Giraffee, Avril, Floyd, ACDC, Jovi… The Weather Girls, of course!" she rambles after the bite she chewed while Jimmy was listing off what he knew of her. her head nodding along, because all of that was right.
Jimmy holds his pita wrap in one hand while the other touches his chin, giving her a curious look. "Ugly Kid Joe, I haven't heard of that. Steam Powered Giraffe though, that's some especially good stuff. I especially like the song they did for that one game… Stars, I think it was called? Ah, the /song/ was called Stars, I mean."
"I like Roller Skate King. Because of Reasons," Darcy defends herself, grinning with pleasure that he's got a similar taste in music while still having some things she can introduce him to. She'll save that for date… like.. number four or something. A bite of her own flatbread thing is taken, again with a hum.
"You? Other than SPG?" she offers, ready to know a bit more about him as well.
Jimmy finishes his second bite a little after she's asked her question. "Yeah, pretty clear reasons there. And me, I like a lot of soft-rock type things. Including some Christian soft-rock, like Relient K." He holds up a finger. "No, it's not like 'KidzBop' or whatever that over-censored stuff is. Some of the lyrics can just… really speak to me, you know?"
"Yeah. Totes. Skillet's an awesome Christain Rock Band. 'Hero' really calls to me some days," Darcy agrees, nodding, and reaching for her drink even as her hand is a bit sauce covered. Fuck it. This is supposed to be messy. And no pressure.
Messy and no-pressure is exactly what Jimmy's been going for. He doesn't have it on his hands, but it has dripped onto his chin. Thankfully, his forward lean keeps it from getting down onto his shirt. "Oh, heck yeah. And have you heard Monster? That's another Skillet song." His free hand dips down to his phone — he could show her the song here and now.
"Fuck yes. It's on my work out playlist," Darcy chirps happily, wiping her hands quick before grabbing a napkin and leaning forward to reach out so she can wipe his chin.
"Cue it up, Babe! I fucking love that one," she goads. Because what even in in restaurant mood music?
"Gawuh?" Jimmy hadn't noticed the sauce on his chin, but it is only a fair trade from him cleaning off her nose when they last saw each other. He laughs at her exuberance and pulls the phone out. After a minute or two of flipping through menus, he gets the song playing on the tinny little speaker. He doesn't exactly have the latest StarkPhone, here. He tilts his head as he looks at her. "And… hm. Is there anything else you want to ask me?"
Napkin left near him for his use, Darcy settles back for another bite while jamming to the music. Anything else, hmm? Darcy ponders this through two full bites. Because it's a hard decision for the girl.
"How do your first dates usually end … or… how would you want them to end?" she asks, smiling. "Because while I'm not in ANY rush to have this be over, we'll get full soon enough and be ready to leave here and that's like a transition place, and I'd like to know what you think."
Jimmy holds the napkin, idly scrunching it while he thinks through the question. "It really depends on who I'm with, on the general… /flow/ of the evening. My thoughts are more about the… middle progression. Learning more about her. But just, the first thing I think of? Get her safely back home, a hug goodnight, and a pledge to talk more soon." He smiles lopsided. "With all the texting these days, parting ways doesn't really mean the end of 'being with each other', you know? How about you?"
"Whose couch gets christened. But yours sounds way more datey and romantic. Let's do yours," Darcy replies simply and without shame.
Jimmy blinks. "Gets… christened? What do you—" He /suspects/, though, and his face turns several shades deeper while he just… stares.
"Bump uglies. Horizontal mambo. Hide the salami. Do the DO. Sexy times," Darcy rapid fires a few of the euphimisms she knows for the act, all as she watches Jimmy grow redder and redder.
Jimmy's lucky that he's able to keep himself contained enough that his cheeks don't /literally/ go. He doesn't fire back any of Darcy's teasing, any of her banter, but he does respond in other ways. He squeaks, he whines, he shrinks back into himself, chin ducking. "Th-That seems a bit much for a first date! I mean, I'm not a 'wait until marriage' type or anything, b-b-but…"
"Which is why we're going with your idea," Darcy assures him, taking another bite of her thing. "So, relax. I like you enough to wanna wait for ya."
Jimmy tilts his head… and after a second, he breaks into a series of giggles. "God, it's such a role-reversal from the stereotype, isn't it? It's like a thousand fuckboys suddenly cried out, and were suddenly silenced."
It really is. And it's so lovely and amusing a thought that Darcy ends up laughing so hard she gets a bit of food down the wrong way. In tears from laughing and coughing to clear her wind pipe, she is just way too amused by it all to be upset in the slightest.
"Oh God. That's fucking brilliant," she manages after a bit, voice raspy and unclear. "Oh.. I love that."