Chapter Text
Waylon can only blame himself for the embarrassment he's currently feeling. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, too busy staring at his phone and the bolts of fabrics in front him, flicking over each as he compared them to his reference photos, and he managed to run headlong into an absolute brick wall of a man. Thankfully, he didn’t knock either of them over, but he can still feel himself getting warmer from the blush racing across his face.
“I’m so sorry!” he cries, one hand holding his phone to his chest. The other is waving awkwardly in front of him. He already talks with his hands in normal circumstances, but it’s so much worse when he’s nervous. He half starts to reach out to the other man until he suddenly realizes how inappropriate that would be and snatches his hand back to his chest. “Are you okay?”
The man looks mildly stunned. He blinks a few times before shaking his head slightly, seeming both dazed and controlled at once. Waylon’s actually pretty impressed. “Yes, I’m fine.” It comes out a little rough, and he hears him clearing his throat. “And you? Are you alright?” His voice is softer than Waylon would’ve guessed and he’s afraid his blush has only gotten worse.
“I’m okay, the only thing bruised is my dignity,” he jokes. “Again, I’m so sorry for running into you. It was my fault; I should’ve been more careful.” He pauses, not sure where to go from here. He’s also a little uncomfortable with the way the man is looking at him. Now that the shock has worn off, it’s oddly intense. Is he offended by Waylon somehow?
He resists the urge to check himself over. He knows very well how he looks, he couldn’t do what he does otherwise. He’s not classically handsome like this man, all 6 foot plus of muscle, with strong, sharp cheekbones and a jaw to match, dressed to kill in a vest and bowtie, but he’s perfectly acceptable!
Putting aside his discomfort, Waylon flashes the man a grin that's more suited to his persona, all bright eyed and enthusiastically polite. "I'll let you get back to your shopping. I hope you have a good rest of your day." He goes to sidestep around him when he speaks up, a self-deprecating charm in his tone.
"Apology accepted, although I feel that I am equally to blame. These aisles are quite narrow and I’m not exactly a small man.” He straightens up, easily adding another few inches to his height. Waylon mirrors the action, not that it makes much of a difference. “Eddie Gluskin.” Eddie brings his hand up towards his chest and subtly tips his head forward, reminiscent of a bow.
Waylon can’t pull off the same sort of charm, but the least he can do is to reciprocate the intent. He nods slightly and extends his own hand for a handshake. “Waylon Park.”
Eddie takes his hand and gives it a gentle shake before letting go. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Waylon.” He pauses, rolling his next words over his tongue before continuing. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but may I ask what you’re looking for? You seemed quite focused.” At Waylon’s unsure look, he elaborates. “I shop here frequently, so I’m familiar with their stock. However, If you’d rather keep it to yourself, or are more comfortable with an employee assisting you, I understand.” He smiles reassuringly, but Waylon can see the way Eddie looks like he’s bracing himself for a rejection.
Rejection?
…oh.
Ohhhhh.
“Oh!” The last part comes out in a rush and his blush returns with a vengeance, his cheeks turning bright red instantly. He only barely resists the urge to turn his head and break eye contact, if only so he doesn’t miss the slow pink creeping along Eddie’s own face, embarrassed at being caught out.
Eddie brings a fist to his mouth, clearing his throat again. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a little…forward. I just… I’d really like to get to know you.”
Waylon’s pretty sure he looks like an idiot right now, but he couldn’t stop the grin on his face if he tried. “I’d like to get to know you too.”