Chapter Text
“Ah. You must be the one Benny warned me about.”
Bernard is so wrapped up in his own thoughts by the window, where the thump of music and loud conversation blurs into a single background noise, that the unfamiliar voice coming from behind him makes him jump. He isn’t even sure that he is the one being addressed, since he has no idea why Benny would be warning anyone about him. Unless it’s about his impressive track record of bad decisions…
Still, Bernard turns around – and sure enough, there is a tall stranger looking down at him with a small, sly smile that immediately makes Bernard realize that he is being flirted with.
“Um,” he says stupidly, suddenly flustered, and frantically tries to remember whether this guy was among the people Benny introduced him to at the beginning of the housewarming party. Probably not; Bernard is sure he wouldn’t have forgotten. “Warned you…? What do you…”
The guy tilts his head, causing his honey-colored curls to fall across his forehead, and gives Bernard another, wider smile. His eyes glint mischievously in the low light that is lending Benny’s new apartment a warm, intimate atmosphere.
“That you’re dangerous at Cards Against Humanity, of course,” he replies teasingly, jerking his head towards the coffee table in the corner where a bunch of people are apparently playing that very game. “Why, what did you think?”
Bernard smiles awkwardly, embarrassed heat creeping up his neck, but stays silent, unsure how to respond. This guy is far from the first one to pay attention to him in the nearly four months that have passed since Tim’s departure. And yet, every time it happens, Bernard feels lost and wrong-footed, unable to match the playful vibe – and, to be honest, normally, he doesn’t even want to.
Tonight, though… Something about this guy is… surprisingly attractive. Intriguing. Definitely not enough to make Bernard forget all about his past drama – but enough to make him want to continue the conversation. Bernard isn’t sure what it is; probably just the confidence, the ease, the way the guy seems to already know the social script. For the first time in ages, Bernard wishes he could come up with a suitable, witty answer instead of just standing there, blushing, like a total idiot who has never flirted with anyone in his life.
“N-Nothing,” he stammers out – and immediately wants to smack himself on the forehead. Real cool, he berates himself as he takes an almost aggressive sip of his iced tea to hide his reaction.
The stranger – who must surely be regretting speaking to Bernard at all – clearly decides to take pity on him.
“Good strategy,” he says jokingly, winking. “Deny everything. That’s smart.” He holds out a hand, and Bernard, still stuck on how stupid he must seem, fumbles with his cup to grasp it. “I’m Evan.”
“Bernard.”
“I know.”
Evan gives a small, amused laugh, and – damn it – of course he already knows; Benny must have told him. But Bernard is quickly distracted from the self-deprecating thoughts when Evan’s thumb rubs gently against his wrist before Evan lets go. The small motion is unexpectedly intimate, and what’s a lot more surprising is that Bernard finds that he doesn’t really mind it.
Evan leans in, and his voice dips lower as he looks deep into Bernard’s eyes.
“I’m very glad to meet you.”
***
“So. Evan?”
Alina’s tone is far too light to be genuine – and doesn’t fool Bernard for a second. They are all crammed around their usual table at the campus coffee shop, laptops open, mugs scattered between half-finished notes and highlighted printouts. To be honest, Bernard is almost impressed that his friends have managed to hold out this long; it’s already late afternoon on Monday, classes and study sessions safely out of the way. He fully expected them to pounce first thing in the morning. The fact that they waited until now feels… suspicious.
He pointedly ignores the way Rita looks up from her laptop, eyes bright with interest. Next to her, Ian leans forward, resting his forearms on the table as he studies Bernard’s face with an amount of attention his professors have probably never received from him.
Bernard suppresses a sigh and lets his gaze roam around the familiar room – the same one where Dick once caught him and Alina having coffee, sending Bernard into a panic attack. The memory makes his heart clench painfully, though, so he quickly pushes it away.
It’s obvious that the others are still waiting for his response. Bernard fidgets with his own coffee cup before shrugging.
“He’s… okay?”
Ian groans quietly, slumping in his chair. Alina rolls her eyes.
“You were smiling. I saw you.”
“So?” Bernard hunches his shoulders defensively. “Is that illegal or something?”
“No, of course not.” Alina ducks her head a bit to catch his eye. He lets her, and she gives him a small, pained smile. “Just… it was the first time I saw you that comfortable in a while. How did it go? Did you… like him?”
Bernard shrugs again, awkwardly.
“I guess,” he mutters. He wishes they would leave him alone, but he knows from experience that asking for that now only means they will circle back to this subject later. Might as well get it out of the way. “I mean… Nothing happened, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Dude.” Now Ian is the one rolling his eyes. “We’re not asking if you slept with him.”
“Only whether you liked him as a person,” Rita chimes in.
Alina is nodding along.
“Exactly. It’s been almost four months since…” Horror briefly flashes across her face as she catches herself. Bernard grits his teeth. Images flicker up uninvited: Tim’s drawn face in the armchair; the apartment door slammed shut; the folded goodbye note with O’s number still lying on the coffee table. “Anyway. It’s just – it’s time you let yourself, you know, live a little. And we’re happy you met someone you seemed to get along with…”
“Four months isn’t a magical grief expiry date,” Bernard grinds out, barely keeping himself from snapping.
“No, of course not,” Alina backtracks quickly. “I never said it was! But…” She bites her lip anxiously and gives him an uncertain look. “Have you heard from… him at all? Or… any of them?”
Bernard is beginning to regret allowing himself to be pulled into this conversation.
“No,” he says shortly, hoping that it will be enough to deter them from questioning him further.
It’s perfectly true, too: ever since that surreal conversation with Dick back in early December, he hasn’t heard from the Waynes directly at all. Honestly, he isn’t sure whether to feel relieved or wary about it. At least Mr. Wayne hasn’t engineered any new seismic shifts in Bernard’s life. His rent situation remains the same, though, still making Bernard distinctly uncomfortable, and he received an e-mail from WE just this morning, reminding him of the upcoming internship and asking him to fill out some form. Bernard clicked out of it without really reading what it was.
“There you go, then.” Rita’s decisive voice pulls Bernard out of his thoughts. “Look, nobody is forcing you to fall in love. Just… let someone normal buy you dinner.”
“Yeah,” Ian agrees, while Bernard frowns at Rita. “No pressure to marry the guy. Just upgrade to emotionally available, please. Tim’s not coming back. You know that, right?”
“Jesus,” Bernard swears, glaring at each of them in turn. Until now, he was fully prepared to endure their interference. But the mention of Tim makes him lose all self-control, even though he knows that Ian is probably right. “Are you two for real? I talk to a guy I never met before for, like, five seconds, and you’re already making marriage jokes? Because my – my ex isn’t coming back, so it’s fine? Seriously? Is that somehow supposed to make me feel – I don’t know, better about this whole situation? Can you even hear yourselves?”
He knows he sounds properly angry by the end of his tirade, and when he glances at Alina, he sees that she has joined him in glaring at the other two. Apparently, none of this was in her script.
Suddenly exhausted by all this scheming, Bernard decides that he’s had enough. Raising his cup to his lips with a jerky movement, he drains the remains of his coffee and stands up.
“And he hasn’t offered to buy my dinner,” he bites out, throwing his notebook into his bag so carelessly that he actually misses. Swearing under his breath, Bernard retrieves it from the floor and stuffs it into the bag before glowering at his friends as though it was their fault. “Didn’t even ask for my number. So leave me alone and stay out of my love life, how about that?”
***
By Thursday, Bernard has mostly talked himself into believing the whole Evan thing is dead and buried.
Despite his attitude on Monday, he does know perfectly well that, if he wanted to see Evan again, he could easily have asked Benny for the guy’s number instead of waiting to be contacted first. Which, admittedly, would have been a bit awkward, seeing as Benny is somehow even less over Tim than Bernard himself… but still. It’s an option.
And yet, Bernard doesn’t use it. It just doesn’t seem fair, as if he would be leading Evan on while still pining after Tim. Not to mention that even imagining having to deal with his friends’ gleeful reactions makes Bernard want to retire to some monastery and never date anyone again for as long as he lives. They made a spectacular deal out of him simply talking to Evan at a party; if he were to announce a date, Alina would probably make a spreadsheet and a Pinterest board to help him prepare.
No. Best leave things as they are. And not that Bernard really believes in things like fate, but… it’s convenient, here, to pretend. If Evan had texted him first, Bernard is, like, eighty percent sure he would have gone along with it, because – why not? It’s starting it himself that feels impossible – putting his hand on the wheel and admitting he’s the one turning it.
Having settled on that view and mostly made peace with it, Bernard honestly doesn’t even think about Evan when his phone suddenly starts buzzing in his pocket as he climbs the steps of the university on Thursday morning. With a spike of anxiety – because who on earth would be calling him at this time unless it’s to give him some bad news? – Bernard pauses to dig out the phone and then stares at an unfamiliar number. For one ridiculous second his heart lurches anyway, then drops. Of course it’s not-
His thumb hovers uncertainly over the screen as he contemplates the possibilities. A scammer seems the most likely one; but then, it could easily be someone new from WE, hounding him, or – or what if it’s about his rent…?
Biting his lip worriedly, Bernard decides that declining the call might turn out to be a bad idea.
“Um, hello?”
“Bernard? Hey, it’s Evan, from Benny’s party. How are you doing, sweetheart?”
Bernard’s heart lurches for the second time. Or maybe it’s his stomach.
“Uh.” Suddenly panicked, he squeezes the strap of his bag to ground himself. Chill, Bernard orders himself desperately. “Yeah – ah. Hi! Yeah, I’m… I’m great.”
“Yeah, you are.” Evan chuckles, sounding way too amused for Bernard not to picture him laughing his ass off at how clumsy he’s being. “Which is exactly why I’m calling. So I’m actually in your neck of the woods. Running the investor gauntlet near your little temple of credentialism. You said you’d show me your favorite coffee places in Gotham, remember? Well, I’m holding you to that. I’m done around three, so I’ll swing by campus and you can play tour guide. Better be ready.”
Just like at the party, he sounds confident and energetic, and he talks fast enough that it takes Bernard’s brain a moment to catch up. By the time he does, he’s pieced together that Evan has driven over from Blüdhaven, where he lives, to Gotham to meet a potential investor for his startup – something with wearable sensors for warehouse workers, if Bernard remembers right; Benny called it “Fitbit for broken backs” with frankly worrying enthusiasm. The meeting is apparently happening somewhere near the university, and the flippant nickname for it tells Bernard plenty about how little Evan cares for formal qualifications after dropping out a few years ago under circumstances Bernard didn’t really understand. Definitely not bad academic performance, he supposes, not with the way Benny bragged about Evan doing some project work for LexCorp like it was the coolest thing ever.
“I – look, I’d love to.” Still flustered, Bernard tries to remember what his schedule for today looks like. “But… I have a class until two-forty-five, and I think there was some study group scheduled after…”
“Unless you’re leading it, I don’t think you need it,” Evan replies immediately, with a chuckle. “The way you talked about your studies at the party? You’ll never convince me that missing one study group will tank your GPA. Besides…” His voice grows quieter, more intimate. “I was looking forward to seeing you again. Not many people are worth carving time out of my calendar for, but you are. And I have to head back to Blüd soon after the meeting, so this is my one clean window before I go back to smiling at men in bad suits. I get one nice thing today. I’d like it to be you.”
“Then how can I say no?” Bernard tries to flirt back. He gives a small, nervous laugh. Evan isn’t totally right: the study group is important, but it’s true that missing it once won’t be a disaster. Bernard tries to inject some confidence into his voice as he continues. “I think I already know where to take you. I’ll meet you by the main building at three, then.”
“A man who knows what he likes and has his priorities sorted,” Evan almost purrs, and Bernard feels himself blush. “No wonder I’m already head over heels for you. See you later, sweetheart.”
***
“I’m really sorry the coffee isn’t great.”
Bernard shifts in his seat, eyeing Evan’s half-full cup of double espresso with unease. Talk about pretending to be a coffee shop expert. It’s not like Evan is going to write him off as a person because he picked the wrong place… but it kind of feels that way, especially after Bernard had gone on at the party about how much he likes to cook and check out restaurants.
“Don’t be silly, sweetheart.” Evan scoffs, but the expression on his face is fond and indulgent as he raises an eyebrow at Bernard. “It’s not terrible. Plus, you’re the main dish here, not the coffee. Besides…” He tears off a bit of his almond croissant, pops it into his mouth, then nods approvingly. “Love the pastry. I’ve had way too many soggy croissants not to appreciate getting a good one.”
“Right.”
Biting the inside of his cheek, Bernard glances down at his own iced latte – the one Evan ordered for him with just a quick look and a wry grin. “No syrup, right? You don’t strike me as a syrup kind of guy.”
Which is actually true, and while a part of Bernard is… surprised by how confidently Evan took over the order, another is quietly pleased by how well Evan seems to understand him already. Flattered, too. Because, honestly? Bernard isn’t even going to try to deny that having this mature, classy guy like him enough to hunt for his number and put up with his social clumsiness is making him feel a bit light-headed.
Furtively, Bernard flicks his gaze up at Evan, who has turned sideways in his chair so the table isn’t blocking the view. He is slouched, but elegantly, in a way Bernard knows he could never pull off without looking spineless and rumpled. And despite being simply dressed in slim black jeans, a dark crewneck with a fitted jacket, and minimalist sneakers, Evan manages to look both put together and – Bernard blushes slightly – totally delicious.
Looking up, Bernard is flustered to realize that Evan is watching him back, lips twisted in the same sly grin he’d worn during their first conversation.
“Like what you see?”
Unable to stifle an embarrassed smile, Bernard ducks his head, but jerks it back up when Evan raps his knuckles lightly on the table.
“Don’t hide now, I was enjoying the view too, sweetheart.” Evan’s grin widens, and he very deliberately looks Bernard over as he runs his thumb over the corner of his own mouth to wipe the powdered sugar clinging to his lower lip. “Come on. Don’t tell me I’m the first person you’ve ever caught looking.”
“Well, no.” Bernard swallows, tempted to look away again, but forcing himself to keep looking Evan in the eye, since Evan seems to prefer that. “I’ve… dated before. It’s not like I’ve been living under a rock or anything…”
“I didn’t think that,” Evan says, softer now. He glances away, then asks a bit more quietly, probably sensing the shift in Bernard’s mood, “Uh – was it recent, or…?”
Bernard shrugs listlessly.
“We broke up a few months ago. It was… complicated.”
Evan hums thoughtfully, sipping his espresso without taking his eyes off Bernard. As he does, the fitness band on his wrist catches the light, and Bernard seizes upon it in an attempt to change the subject and reclaim some of the earlier levity.
“Hey, is that, uh, one of your prototypes?”
Surprised, Evan glances down, following Bernard’s gaze, then laughs.
“This? No, this is just off-the-shelf garbage. I use it as a sanity check. The stuff we’re building makes this look like a toy from a cereal box.”
“Oh.” Feeling foolish, Bernard tries to sip his coffee, as if that will somehow wash the question back down – but finds the cup empty. Grimacing lightly, he sets it down.
“Want another?” Evan offers immediately.
Bernard shakes his head.
“Nah, thanks. Too much coffee makes me jittery, and I don’t sleep well as it is.”
“Probably ‘cause you sleep alone,” Evan comments nonchalantly, though the sly gleam returns to his eyes. “But we’ll get to fixing that.”
Startled, Bernard chokes on air as he blushes furiously – yet again. He’s pretty sure there’s a step between “coffee” and “we’ll fix your sleeping arrangements,” but Evan seems determined to skip it.
“With your superior tech, I take it?” Bernard tries to joke, rubbing his neck in an attempt to hide how embarrassed he is.
Evan huffs a laugh, watching him with open amusement.
“It’s not just my tech that’s superior.” He winks, and Bernard closes his eyes in mortification, even as his lips stretch into a grin, as if of their own accord. “But hey, if you’re interested in the tech, I don’t mind talking shop. I know perfectly well you’re not just hot, you’ve got brains, too. Killer combo. So what we’re doing is capturing micro-strain across the whole body, not just counting steps, and…”
For all that Bernard would love to show off his “brains”, at first, he can barely take in what Evan is saying about the device. The words blur together into a pleasant, technical hum under the louder awareness of Evan’s voice, his hands as he gestures excitedly while describing how the tech is supposed to work, the way his eyes stay fixed on Bernard’s face. Catching himself, Bernard makes an effort to pay attention – and soon finds that he is genuinely interested.
“Wait – if you only have, what, a band on the wrist or the ankle, how are you getting ‘whole body’ anything?” He cuts in, when Evan pauses for breath. “Wouldn’t you just be… measuring that joint and guessing the rest? I mean,” he amends quickly, realizing that Evan might take that as criticism, when Evan’s eyes narrow slightly, “I’m sure you’ve thought of that, I’m not implying it’s bullshit. Just – how…?”
Evan raises an eyebrow, then laughs delightedly.
“Yeah, okay, point to you. If it’s just on your wrist, then that’s mostly vibes,” he agrees. “We’re prototyping a three-point setup – wrist, lower back, ankle – and then we let the model fill in the gaps. It’s messy, but it’s better than ‘step count go brr’.” Bernard frowns, trying to gauge whether that is actually possible. But Evan doesn’t give him the time to figure that out; he tilts his head and gives Bernard a warm smile. “See? This is why I like you. Half my devs don’t even ask that question.”
Flattered, Bernard chooses to move on; Evan must know what he is doing, and Bernard doesn’t want to lose the admiration Evan seems to have for him by continuing to doubt the concept.
“And, uh… You said it’s for injury prevention, right? So… whose dashboard does that end up on? The workers’?”
Evan’s smile turns wry.
“Pitch deck answer? ‘Empowering workers with data.’ Real answer?” He shrugs. “Bosses pay for it, so they get the pretty charts. I do try to sneak actual safety improvements in while they’re busy gamifying productivity.”
Bernard nods seriously, as if he knows all about what Evan is talking about. He is wondering what else to ask, but just then, Evan sighs and looks down at the fitness band.
“Right – no rest for the wicked. Gotta get back home, or else I’ll be caught in traffic, and then my devs will stage a coup.” He gives Bernard another smile. “Thank you for being my nice thing for the day, sweetheart.”
Bernard looks down at his own watch and blinks, startled, when he sees that over two hours have passed. He didn’t even notice, caught up in Evan’s compliments and tech talk.
“Okay,” he says, genuinely disappointed that the date is over. “Um… thanks. Really, I… I really enjoyed myself.”
“So did I,” Evan replies easily. “But hey – don’t look so down. I mean, it’s flattering, obviously, but you’ll see me again soon enough.”
Outside, Bernard looks around.
“So – did you park by the university somewhere…?”
Evan gives a startled laugh.
“Park? I hope you’re not serious, sweetheart. The parking situation here is a nightmare. Besides, I refuse to waste my time on sitting uselessly behind the wheel. I know a bus is way less glamorous, but it’s efficient. I answered a whole bunch of emails on my way here, and even if I get stuck in traffic on my way back, I’ll use the time to tweak my deck.”
“Oh.” Bernard blinks, taking in the matter-of-fact explanation and simultaneously wondering why he even assumed Evan had driven in the first place. Probably because he is still benchmarking everyone against Tim, that’s why, he tells himself sternly. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“It does.” Evan holds out a hand. “Now – phone.”
Taken aback, Bernard doesn’t immediately react.
“What?”
“If I have to hunt down your number again, I’m charging you consulting rates,” Evan says, sounding amused. “Come on.”
Bernard fumbles his phone out and lets Evan tap in his contact info. As he watches, it suddenly occurs to him that he still has no idea how Evan got his number. If he were to guess, he’d think it was from Benny, but he is still a bit surprised that Benny hadn’t asked for his permission.
Bernard opens his mouth to ask, but just then, Evan hands his phone back, and Bernard accepts it automatically before slipping it into his bag. When he looks up again, he finds Evan a lot closer.
“I know I said you’ll see me soon,” Evan murmurs as one of his hands comes up to settle on Bernard’s waist and nudges Bernard even closer. The other one cups Bernard’s jaw. “But I’m sure you’ll want something to remember me by until then, sweetheart.”
And that is really all the warning Bernard gets before Evan’s lips press lightly against his own, chaste and gentle. Bernard’s breath hitches as his brain short-circuits; for a moment, he is caught in a blank state where he has no idea what he wants. There is no conscious thought. He doesn’t wonder whether he is betraying Tim with this; neither does he try to decide whether he wants to take this thing with Evan further. There is just the warmth of Evan’s hand on his jaw, feather-light, the gentle pressure on his waist, not trapping him, but offering… something new.
Something breaks inside him. It feels like desperation and hope and pain rolled all in one, and all Bernard knows in that moment is that he isn’t going to say no.
Without input from his brain, Bernard’s lips part, and his eyes flutter closed. Taking his cue from him, Evan immediately presses closer. The arm around Bernard tightens, the one on his face slides to cup the back of his head – and then Bernard is being kissed for real.
The kiss is over as suddenly as it began. The pressure disappears all at once, and Bernard almost stumbles as his eyes fly open.
“Call me when you get home,” Evan calls from a few feet away, where he is already opening the door of a cab that seems to have appeared out of nowhere. “And next time, we’ll try that ‘fifteen minutes away’ place you mentioned. I’m giving Gotham coffee scene a second chance, purely out of respect for your taste.”
With that, he is gone, getting in without another backward glance; the cab pulls away almost at once.
Lips wet and knees trembling, Bernard stares after him – and the only thought in his head is that he will be damned if he doesn’t choose the absolute best coffee shop on Earth for their next date.