TBOS Audition 2

Damon was right on time, not a moment early or late. Cathal pretended not to notice as Damon sat down on a chair on the opposite side of the desk. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to say goodbye once in a while," said Cathal, chewing on the end of his pen. "I mean, really."

Damon ignored him, though his lips kept twitching. He had a little portable cooler, from which he produced a pair of white boxes with chunks of fish, fried shrimp, and cabbage. Cathal raised his eyebrows. "This is another one of your experiments, isn't it?" He moved the folder of tests aside and took one of the boxes. "…Are these rice balls supposed to look like pandas?" Damon was digging through the cooler and didn't say anything. "Pandas. Right. So what is this strange conglomeration I'm supposed to eat?"

"It's bento. It's good." Damon took a pair of chopsticks from the cooler and snapped them in half, rubbing them together. Cathal raised his eyebrows higher. "Eat it! It's good for you." He passed Cathal the chopsticks and took out another set for himself. He looked at them instead of Cathal's face, and his ears turned pink. "And yes, they are pandas. I thought it was cute."

Cathal heaved a melodramatic sigh so he wouldn't start grinning. Gingerly, he picked up one of the bits of fish with his chopsticks and popped it in his mouth. It was good—lemony, not fishy—but Cathal wasn't going to let Damon see that. It wasn't part of their little dance. "You know, I should call Dwyn and tell him to come home more often."

Damon frowned, tilting his head. "What's Dwyn got to do with anything?"

Shrugging, Cathal ate another bit of fish. "When he comes home, you make normal food."

Damon snorted. "I suppose that's true." He smirked a little and pointed a chopstick at Cathal. "You know, if you learned to cook, you wouldn't have to try all my 'experiments.' You could just make all the junk food you wanted."

Cathal smiled fondly. "And then I would die a slow, lingering death of malnutrition. Don't think I haven't considered it."

Damon ate a bit of rice and smiled. "I would bring lilies to your funeral." He rubbed his chin and nodded. "Yes. Lilies. They're the only think I can think of that's paler than you."

"I find it disturbing that you already know what kind of flowers you're bringing. That's very morbid." Cathal sniffed, putting on his best snide face. "Really, Damon, you can't expect me to cook for myself. I'm an astrophysicist. I can't be bothered with details of this realm—how would I ever get anything done?"

Damon clucked. "Oh, please. Cooking is just edible chemistry, and you're always saying chemistry is just applied physics. So. Cooking should work for you."

Cathal spread his hands. "But who would you foist your mad schemes upon then? I'm the only person you spend enough time with to be there when you make stuff like this."

"They aren't mad, they're delicious." Damon popped a bit more rice in his mouth and didn't speak for a moment.

Something in Damon's expression shifted, and Cathal straightened up. He fidgeted with the cabbage until he could speak casually. "...You've got your serious face on. What's that for?"

Damon sighed and rested his chopsticks on the edge of the box. "I'm hoping to finally fix the 'hanging about with no one but you' thing." He paused and quickly met Cathal's eyes. "I mean, not—not that I mind hanging about with you. I…" Damon groaned and pressed his hand against his forehead. "Fuck. This is not how I meant to bring this up." He met Cathal's eyes, just for a moment; something in them made Cathal's mouth go dry.

He looked down at his hands, trying to suppress his surprise. Just don't do anything, said a voice in the back of his head. You'll make a fool of yourself. Just… sit still. Cathal really hated that voice, all the more because what it said made sense. Again, he had to wait until he could talk normally. "So you've met someone?"

At least Damon seemed to think it was awkward as well: his eyes kept flicking to Cathal's and away, like he was too embarrassed to hold Cathal's gaze. Cathal probably wasn't doing a very good job of hiding his nerves. Damon cleared his throat. "I…"  He sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead. Then he lifted his head and shrugged without smiling. "I hope I will. I joined a dating service. Online."

Despite himself, Cathal snorted—not in a mean way. "You actually figured out how to work the laptop, eh? I bet you're still running IE 6." Cathal smiled nervously. He teased Damon about his computer illiteracy all the time. This one was no different. It was not.

Damon looked down at his hands again. A flush crept back into his cheeks, and there was something in his eyes Cathal couldn't place. "Yes, well…" He sighed. "Cathal…" His voice was soft; Cathal didn't know what to make of it. Then Damon sighed. "Oh, never mind. I don't know why I told you that—you don't care."

Cathal blinked, feeling like he'd missed something important. Damon got to his feet and starting putting away his lunch: slowly, like he didn't trust his movements. "Of course I do," said Cathal, looking down at his desk. Damon didn't respond. Cathal's voice turned small and useless. "…Thank you for lunch."

Damon shrugged listlessly. "You know I don't mind." He let out a deep breath and ran a hand over his hair. Then he looked at Cathal and spread his hands, like the last bit of the conversation hadn't happened. "…I've got a lot left over, if you wanted to come by for supper."

Cathal nodded, but he had to swallow a few times before he spoke. "Yeah, all right. I'll be over at six or so—I need to take a look at how Roger's getting on with his research."

"'Course." He closed the little cooler and glanced at Cathal's half-eaten lunch. "You should finish that. You don't get near enough vegetables."

Cathal rubbed his arms. "Yeah, yeah."

Damon met Cathal's eyes. "…At six, then?"

Cathal nodded. "Yeah, about." Damon nodded back and left.

Cathal pressed his hands against his eyes. "You thought—you really thought—"

But that was stupid. Never mind how much Damon spent with him. Never mind how near they came to flirting. Never mind Damon liked men. Damon didn't want him, no matter how much Cathal wanted to pretend he did. There was just too much screwed-up history between them; things would never work out.

"Come on now," said Cathal, taking in a deep breath. "You're being an idiot." It didn't help.