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Carlos was trying to find his favorite variety of potatoes at the Ralph’s. Or, not even his favorite variety, really. He’d settle for something that wasn’t neon green and glowing.
He was just about to give up when he heard a familiar voice from behind him.
“Carlos!” Cecil called. “What an absolute pleasure running into you here.”
He felt his insides start to flutter and urged them to calm down. Carlos had taken Cecil out on their first date well over a week ago. After a horrified night of thinking he’d ruined everything (tree experiments? “I’ve been thinking?” Carlos can be such a dweeb when he’s nervous), he was delighted to hear Cecil’s happy recap of it on the radio the next day.
They’d been texting almost nonstop since then, but they’d both been too busy to arrange a second date. Carlos wanted it to be perfect. He knew he'd end up doing some science on it, but hopefully he would be able to give Cecil some more attention, even if it wasn’t even a fraction of what the man deserved.
Oh, and kissing. Carlos hoped he could pull it together enough to engage in some more of that. The little kiss at the end of their first date had been good, but Carlos was hoping Cecil was ready for a little more development in that area.
“Hi, Cecil,” he said. “It’s really good to see you too. I’m trying to get potatoes that don’t glow. Do you know where I could find some?”
Cecil looked at Carlos, and it was a very familiar look. In fact, most of his and Cecil’s conversations have ended with this look. It was not unlike the look Carlos’ third grade teacher used to give him when he asked “but why did gravity exist? where did it come from?” But, unlike Mrs. Lorenza, Cecil always humored him in the end.
“All potatoes glow, Carlos,” Cecil said, placing his basket on the ground. “Honestly. I know you don’t have a lot of time for cooking, what with science and all, but you should at least know how to pick out potatoes. Here, I’ll show you.”
Carlos walked over the bin of glowing potatoes, and then from his pocket, produced a pair of glasses. He set them on his face and picked up a potato.
He was saying something, Carlos knew, about the potatoes. But he couldn’t look at the glowing vegetables, at the moment. Carlos couldn’t look anywhere except at Cecil’s face, now adorned with a thick pair of black glasses.
Carlos felt his body temperature increase. He had always had a…a thing, for guys in glasses. Maybe it made them look smarter, which he liked, or maybe it was just an aesthetic thing, but damn it, Cecil was already attractive enough, and now Carlos knew he had glasses.
Carlos racked his brain for a moment. He had a vague memory of Cecil wearing them when Carlos dropped by the station a few times to tell him some important news. Carlos had always been rather focused on science, and not on Cecil's face.
Now though, he stared at Cecil’s face as he went on about the potatoes. Carlos should be saying something, he was probably being rude and creepy, with all this gawking, but he couldn’t look away. The glasses sat straight on his nose, framing his violet eyes beautifully. They were on the larger side, but didn’t overpower the rest of his face. The frames accentuated his cheekbones. the way his hair, flopping over his forehead, fell around them made Carlos want to run his fingers through it.
“Er, Carlos?” Cecil asked, and Carlos jumped at the sound of his name. “See? Is that the color you wanted for your potatoes?”
Carlos reluctantly tore his eyes away from Cecil’s face, and those glasses, down to the vegetable in the radio host’s hand. Sure enough, it had stopped glowing, and turned a dark, muddy brown color. Still darker than Carlos would prefer, but beggars can’t be choosers, and it wasn’t the first thing on his mind at the moment.
He shifted his eyes back to Cecil’s face, which had now taken on a concerned look.
“Carlos? Is something wrong? Do I have something on my face? Oh, no, has a dust bunny gotten in and frozen your vocal chords? I knew I saw them roaming around here, I’ll go tell the manager to check their cage-“
“You wear glasses?” Carlos finally blurted out, realizing Cecil was babbling because he hadn’t said anything yet. That was not what he wanted to say. He wanted to thank Cecil for fixing the potatoes for him. Maybe invite him to come over later, after he has cooked said potatoes, for dinner and maybe a movie. Carlos had to restrain himself from putting his head in his hands.
Cecil’s face, still behind those wonderful, lovely glasses, scrunched up.
“Oh, yes, well, at work, or for reading, or, you know…seeing things up close,” Cecil said. He was looking insecure, with his eyebrows scrunched up and his cheeks starting to color. Carlos thought that was ridiculous but couldn’t actually voice it.
“I know they make me look stupid, they’re too big for my face, I think, but I don’ know, it’s so hard to choose and I end up just picking the first ones I see and I just look really, well, kind of dorky. Not that all glasses make people look dorky. In fact, yours make you look very sophisticated and handsome.”
Carlos distantly realized that Cecil was babbling and he was overcome with affection for the radio host. He didn’t want to go this long without seeing him again. Carlos gathered the courage to put Cecil out of his misery.
“I don’t think you look stupid or dorky,” he said. “I like them.”
Cecil’s eyes widened at the compliment. “You..you do?” He was still holding onto the dark potato in one hand, his fingers tightening around it as he spoke.
“Yes,” Carlos confirmed. “I really, really like them.”
Cecil sucked in air as Carlos’ earlier staring seemed to make more sense.
“Oh,” he said. Carlos took a moment to marvel at the fact that he could render Cecil Palmer speechless with one little compliment on his glasses.
The power made Carlos feel a little brave. He stepped closer to Cecil, closer than two people in the middle of the Ralph’s should probably be. The background noises seemed to fade into a low humming.
“Are you busy later? If you want, you should come over. We can watch a movie or something. I’ve been dying to see you again.”
“Yes,” Cecil said, “that sounds wonderful. I can bring stir fry?” Cecil said it a little breathlessly, affected by Carlos’ proximity.
“Good,” Carlos said, and leaned down to bring their lips together. It wasn’t much, they were in the middle of a market, after all, but he kept his lips there a little longer than the time in Cecil’s car. He smiled before pulling away. “I’ll see you at 7ish, then?”
Cecil’s face looked like he couldn’t believe his luck, and he exhaled.
“That sounds perfect, Carlos.”
“Okay,” Carlos said, taking the potato out of Cecil’s hand and grabbing a few more from the bin. Hopefully he could figure out how to deactivate the glowing. He hadn’t exactly been paying attention to Cecil’s explanation on the process. “I’ll see you then.”
He started to walk away, but then turned back.
“Oh, and Cecil? Bring those glasses.”