A/N: IT'S SO LATE IN THE MORNING AND I'M STILL AWAKE BUT I'M SO SLEEPY AND IDK WHAT I JUST WROTE

I have no energy to do anything except post this story, please excuse any mistakes and enjoy!

Warning: gay content! don't like, don't read!

Oh yeah, and the FREAKING AWESOME cover was made by OperationKingfish. Thanks so much, girl! I love the cover~

Ilona was lying snugly on the sofa, warm fluffy blanket fresh from the dryers wrapped around her shoulders, a bottle of cola in one hand and a remote in the other. It was ten minutes to eleven at night, the curtains were drawn and the whole apartment was dark, except, of course, for the light coming from the TV screen.

Thunder rumbled high above in the clouds. The sound of heavy rain and the strong wind, followed by the cooling atmosphere and mixed with the airconditioned living room. Ilona enjoyed nights like this, alone and content on a cold and rainy night. She felt safe, cuddled up in her small home, sheltered from the storm.

It was just another episode of her favourite TV show, when the front door rattled. She jumped, startled by the unwelcome sound. The door rattled again, before someone outside started to knock on it furiously.

"Dammit, Ilona, open the damn door!"

Ilona relaxed. It was only Gideon. Which was strange, too, considering he wasn't supposed to be here for the night.

"Don't you have your own keys?" she called out calmly, taking a swig of her cola.

"It's a long story," Gideon sighed, and from his voice Ilona knew he actually meant it. "Please, just open the door."

With much reluctance, Ilona put her cola on the stand, shrugged the blanket off her shoulders and walked over to the door. As the lights automatically turned on, brightening the apartment, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"Aren't you supposed to—" her words died in her throat when she saw Gideon soaking wet with a red face and an annoyed glare. They stared at each other for a few seconds, until her mouth formed a small 'o'. "Wow."

Gideon merely grunted and pushed past her into their shared apartment. As Ilona closed the door, Gideon kicked off his designer shoes and peeled off his socks from his damp skin, pulled off his beanie, before unbuttoning his expensive shirt (that Ilona personally picked out for him), rolling it into a ball and throwing it into the laundry basket across the room.

In his undershirt and heavy, soaked jeans, he dropped carelessly onto the couch, making sure he sat on the warm blanket so he wouldn't soak the sofa, too.

Rolling her eyes, Ilona took three other blankets and threw it on him. "Here."

Gideon murmured thanks, wrapped two blankets around himself, left the third one for Ilona and mumbled thanks again when Ilona made him some hot tea. He took some careful sips as the Russian wrapped the blanket around her own shoulders and sat next to him, waiting.

Gideon must have downed half of the cup before he spoke. "I will never go on a blind date that you set me up for ever again."

"Well, I guessed you were gonna say that," Ilona's lips curved into a small smile. "How was the date, by the way?"

"What do you fucking think?" Gideon scowled at his tea.

Ilona tilted her head and pretended to think very hard. "Judging from how you're soaked from rainwater and in a really bad mood, I'd say—"

"It was a fucking disaster."

"Yep," Ilona nodded, obviously not sorry that she may have set him up for what happened to be the worst night of his life. "How was it a disaster?"

Gideon finished his tea and allowed Ilona to pour him more. As the cup was refilled, he sighed, "She never showed up."

Ilona stopped pouring halfway, the teapot frozen mid-air. "What?"

"You heard me," Gideon gently took the teapot from her hand and poured his cup full. He leaned back. "She didn't show up for the date."

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," Ilona's face had that rare look of shock and guilt. "I didn't know."

He held up a hand. "We'll talk about your guilt later. Right now, I'll tell you about this catastrophe of a night."

Gideon sipped on his wine, both nervously and irritatedly, nodding kindly to a waiter who filled out his glass, and when he walked away, glanced at his watch. If this girl was going to be fashionably late, she was crazy for making him wait over an hour.

"Five more minutes, and I'm out of here," Gideon muttered to himself, looking around with an emotionless face, when in truth he was boiling inside. He told himself that five minutes ago, and the five minutes before that. And the five minutes before that.

What's worst, he already ordered the food, so he can get 'extra points' for when she arrived the food would have already been there for this mystery woman he was supposed to have a date with. Now he was fucking hungry, and worried that if he tucked into his meal the date would walk in and be offended he started without her.

On second thought, her fault for coming so late.

Then again, why did he have to follow Ilona's "advice"? 'Don't go with your norm, try out some new foods instead'. Yeah, now you've gotten yourself a dish which has a name you can't pronounce and he's pretty sure that's baby's vomit right there.

Gideon scratched his head, suppressing a glare, and leaned back against his seat, suddenly self-conscious. He hated the clothes he was wearing. 'Designer', his ass, what's the use of being so expensive and so goofy-looking when it was so uncomfortable. How stupid, waiting there, at a two-seater table, with no date showing up. He must have looked like a total idiot.

He looked out the window. Watched, idly noted the stars were blocked out by murky clouds and lightly regarded the thunder in the distance, the slightest promise of a rainy night. Took no thought as a motorcycle drove up from around the corner and stopped in front of the fancy restaurant he was in.

A few minutes later he allowed his eyes to wander around, again. And this time, he saw a tall man by the entrance, talking to the waitress at the booth. Gideon took a sip of his wine again and pondered whether he should eat. The food looked disgusting. They looked better in menus.

Then he decided to wait another ten minutes.

Gideon raised an eyebrow when the waitress at the booth politely pointed in his direction. The man she was talking to thanked her and promptly began walking in his direction.

Gideon put on his poker face and looked away, carefully swishing the velvet coloured liquid in his glass. He hoped that waitress was pointing to someone behind him, but wait, why is this guy still walking towards him? Shit, he better not be that fucking blind date, or he'd just flip and storm out of—

"Hey, are you here on a blind date set up by someone named Ilona?"

Reluctantly, Gideon looked up to meet the man's eyes. He was surprised this man knew who Ilona was, and a dark feeling of dread crept up from the back of his mind.

"Yes. Why? Who are you?"

The man gave him a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I wanted to tell you that my sister, the girl you're supposed to be on a blind date with? She couldn't make it for tonight."

Gideon's stoic, unfriendly barrier broke down, and his jaw dropped. "You're fucking with me."

"Shit, I know you've been waiting an hour, but she said she didn't have your number to tell you the date is off, and she lost Ilona's number as well," he explained, calmly and with precision but the hint of guilt was there in his voice.

"So I just wasted my time and money." Gideon is going to kill Ilona when he gets home soon.

"Yes, I guess you did," the man said, shrugging. Slowly, he turned around. "Alright, I'm going now. Just came by to tell you that."

"Okay," Gideon said, pathetically, his heart was in his stomach and he wasn't sure whether to be furious, or depressed that he wasted so much money on the food.

He must've sat there with his face in his hands for ten minutes before he finished the wine, took a deep breath and stood up to pay for the food and leave.

Gideon sighed, didn't reply as the waiter who held the door open wished him well, and into the chilly atmosphere of the night. His car was parked around the corner.

"Bollocks, that food was fucking expensive," Gideon said in dismay, looking sadly into his wallet. Only five bucks left. What a bummer, he'd ask Ilona to pay back for the shitty spend. Subconsciously, he took out his keys and hooked it on his pinky finger before taking out his phone to text Ilona, whereas his other hand shoved his wallet back inside.

He didn't look where he was going, thus he tripped on a large, upward crack on the sidewalk and fell face-first onto the pavement.

"Fuck!" Gideon groaned, his face against the concrete. He looked ahead, only to widen his eyes in horror and helplessness as his slim-as-fuck smartphone slid into the small gaps of the drain, with as his keys hang on the egde for dear life.

Gideon had never cursed so much as he frantically struggled to get up and catch his keys before they fell into the dark abyss.

The best part was, he was too late.

"No!" he screamed, as his glinting keys slipped past the spaces and became lost, forever.

At that moment Gideon wasn't sure whether he should laugh or cry.

"Wait! So your car is still at that restaurant?!" Ilona gasped.

"Yes," Gideon grunted, waving his hand in the air. "Please, don't remind me of it. At least I have extra keys in the apartment just for save, thank God, but I'll get the car tomorrow morning."

"And your phone?!"

"Can't do anything about that," Gideon shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I'll buy a new one."

Ilona sighed sympathetically. "How did you get home? You lost your phone, so you couldn't call me, and you didn't have enough money to get a taxi or bus."

Gideon remained silent. He seemed to be relishing in the taste of the hot, rich tea after a rough night, and he was obviously tired so he took his time replying. Ilona, on the other hand, waited patiently for his answer.

The Britisher stared, mouth agape and shoulders dropped, feeling dreadful and enraged, close to bursting out into cry-laughing. If he didn't look like an idiot in that restaurant, he sure as hell did, now, at the sidewalk right in front of it, on all fours, shirt stained with dirt, fresh scratch on the bridge of his nose and staring wide-eyed into a stinky drain.

"Hey…excuse me?" Gideon blinked, and looked up cluelessly at the voice that addressed him.

It was the brother of that girl who never showed up. Gideon looked at him as though he could help retrieve the keys and phone, but he knew this man couldn't help him. But he did have a concerned look on his face.

He held out a hand, offering it. Gideon stared at it, and, without thinking, accepted it.

When he was helped up, he was swiftly pulled up to his feet with amazing strength, and for a moment Gideon was amused by the power this man could muster.

As he straightened himself, blinking and properly getting a hold of himself, he brushed his sleeve and cleared his throat. "Um, thanks."

"No problem," the stranger's blue eyes glanced down at the drain. "I, uh, saw what happened just now."

He shouldn't be annoyed at the stranger, but Gideon was tired and frustrated, and being reminded of what just happened wasn't helping. "Congratulations, you're not blind."

"Relax," he held his hands up in an effort to appease the blond's irritable attitude. "My name's Jack. Jack Mitchell."

"Good for you," Gideon spat, turning around and walking away.

"Hold up, where you going?"

"Home."

"Don't you want to listen what I have to say, first?"

"No."

"I can give you a ride back home."

Gideon scoffed. "Fuck off."

As he shoved his hands into his pockets and continued to walk ahead, he inwardly cringed at his own words. The stranger did nothing wrong. But he couldn't stop the snarky comments, he was just so irritated with the night.

"Fine, suit yourself. I was just trying to be polite." Mitchell grumbled, and Gideon heard his motorcycle roar to a start.

Gideon bit his lower lip. His and Ilona's apartment was a forty-five minute drive by car, how long would it take for him to walk there? Not to mention, he couldn't find his way without a GPS, and he lost that when his phone went down the drain.

The motorcycle wheels screeched as Mitchell twisted the pedal. Luckily, he went down the road in Gideon's direction and just about passed him when a reluctant "Wait!" slowed him down.

Stopping in the middle of the empty street, Mitchell glanced over his shoulder to see Gideon staring at the pavement. He gave the blond a raised eyebrow. "Hm?"

"I'd…actually, really appreciate a ride," Gideon murmured, then sighed, yes he just admitted defeat, but assured himself it was okay since he really was desperate for a ride home.

"Okay, hop on," Mitchell said, casually and with ease, as though Gideon hadn't been so fucking rude to him just a short while ago.

Surprised with how easy that was, Gideon hesitantly shuffled to the bike and got on, before it started to move smoothly to the end of the street and took a turn. He was unused to being the passenger on a motorbike, as far as he could remember he always preferred cars, and if he did ride a bike, he was always the driver. As a result, he was unused to holding the handle available behind him.

Struggling to maintain his balance, he curtly talked whenever Mitchell reached a junction, whilst restraining himself from grabbing Mitchell's shoulders or hips to not fall off. Besides, it's not like he actually knew the proper directions back to his apartment. He may be leading them in circles. But he was way too embarrassed to tell Mitchell he didn't know directions back to his own apartment.

That was, of course, when Mitchell surprise braked when a car sped past a red light, and Gideon jerked forward, his face buried in Mitchell's back, and hands landing on the other's shoulders.

Feeling the fuzzy warmth of Mitchell's coat on his face sent blood rushing to his cheeks. But it was pleasant to feel something warm against his face on such a cold night, and he did feel more secure holding Mitchell's shoulders and—what was he thinking?!

"So, um, what's your name?" Mitchell asked quietly. Feeling the other's back vibrate against his face with every syllable, Gideon's face started to burn, and he prayed to God he wasn't blushing, or if he was, please don't let it be too obvious.

"Wait, pause for a second there, you blushed?!" Ilona's surprised expression was so rare it was comical.

Gideon frowned. "I don't know. I just felt like my cheeks were on fire. I sure hope not."

"What the hell…Gideon, are you trying to tell me something?" Ilona eyed him suspiciously.

"What, no, what do you mean?"

Ilona's suspicious look turned cheeky. "Did he mind the fact you were holding him?"

Gideon frowned more. "Well, no…"

"Where is this story going, hmmm?" Ilona smirked.

"Shut up and let me continue."

The Britisher fell silent, hesitant. But hell, this guy was giving him a ride home, the least he could know was his name. "I'm Gideon."

"Alright," his voice was a tad brighter, as though happy Gideon had actually answered. They continued driving, the night wind was cool and pleasant against their skin. Gideon sat straight up so his face was no longer in Mitchell's back, but didn't remove his hands. The other didn't seem to mind.

There was silence again, until Gideon said, "So…uh, about your sister. Why did she have to cancel the date?"

"Apparently she totally forgot she had a blind date tonight and decided to bail altogether."

Gideon's eye twitched. "So with no other means of communication she sent you out as a messenger to tell me this?"

"Nope, she told me to just forget it and let her date wait and wait until he gets tired of waiting and just leave. I told her, no, that's just rude, and I asked her where the restaurant was and drove over there to tell her date the news myself."

Gideon fell silent, how strange this man was, he would go out of his way to help someone.

Luckily, Mitchell changed the subject when he asked for directions again. Gideon still didn't know where the hell he was taking them, but it wasn't until they reached the dark, abandoned streets of the city did Mitchell began to question his passenger's credibility.

"Wait…you live here?"

"N-No… you must've taken a wrong turn," Gideon bit the insides of his cheeks. That was when he saw a crowd at the end of one street.

"You don't know the proper directions to your home, do you?" From Mitchell's voice, Gideon just knew the other man had his 'seriously' look on.

"Look, let's just ask them which turn to take to get to the main square, alright?" Gideon pointed to the crowd ahead of them. From afar, they were cheering and gathered around something. "Once we reach the main square, we'll be fine."

"Okay," Mitchell sighed, and drove up to the crowd. As they approached, the sounds of running engines were heard over the loud chatter of the horde, yet those who comprised the outer crowd heard their bike approaching and made way for them to pass.

"N-No, we're not asking if you can make way, just wondering if you know the directions to the main sqaure?" Gideon called out to one retreating bystander. He didn't know why everyone was retreating, they were driving slow, not fast, it wasn't like they were going to run over them.

"Oh shit…" Mitchell breathed, eyes widening. He nudged Gideon with his elbow. "Fuck, man, you gotta look at this."

Gideon turned and froze. In front of them were at least a dozen other motorcyclists, but they had flashy bikes with powerful motors, and flashy outfits and sexy girls everywhere. It took a while for him to realize what he was looking at.

Unable to believe his eyes, he grabbed Mitchell's shoulder and hissed, "What the fuck?! We're in an illegal racing competition, you piece of shit!"

Mitchell sounded scandalized. "Why you calling me a piece of shit, your directions brought us here!"

Gideon wasn't sure what to focus on, the fact that they've inadvertently joined an illegal race, or that the crowd was dispersing due to the screeching sounds of the sirens.

Wait, sirens.

"Fuck!" Gideon looked over his shoulder, those blinking red and blue lights were unmistakable. He shook Mitchell's shoulder aggressively, as people scrambled to escape and tires screeched on the gravel. "Drive, you bastard! Drive! Drive!"

Gideon didn't know such a normal bike, with no powerful engine or anything, could go so fast.

They were just as fast as the fancy bikes with their fancy gear, racing down the roads at speeds that could result in fatal accidents. Eventually the other bikers split, taking away a few other police cars, until a single police car was chasing Gideon and Mitchell though the maze of roads and buildings.

They were flying down the streets, the wind beating his face, sirens screaming in his ears, his vision going red and blue every second, face on Mitchell's back, arms wrapped around the other's hips in a hug as tight and secure as a seatbelt.

He could feel Mitchell's racing heartbeat against his arm, the frantic rise and fall of his chest and the string of curses leaving his mouth. Gideon just held on tighter when they took a sharp turn, felt like the wheels were skidding on the uneven road, like they'd lose control any minute, but they never did, it was smooth and fast, and by the time they straightened again there was a deafening crash from behind them.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the police car after them had crashed into the dumpsters by that particular sharp turn.

"Holy shit!" Gideon laughed, was it the relief or the adrenaline, he wasn't sure. His voice echoed off the empty buildings as he shook Mitchell, patting him and looking back several times. "Ohh fuck, that was fucking awesome! You're a fucking A-class driver! Haha!"

Mitchell just chuckled, Gideon felt the vibration on his hands, on his stomach, against his chest since he was pressed against the other. Despite the whipping wind he heard that small, relieved sound that left Mitchell's mouth. As his heartbeat relaxed, Gideon's heart rate increased.

"That was the scariest shit ever," Mitchell commented, wagging his head, murmuring something and laughing again. "What matters is we're not going to spend the night in the lockup. And good news is my aimless driving actually got us back to a place I'm familiar with."

Gideon nodded, relieved beyond words as well, and in return he felt Mitchell shudder, maybe it was because of the way he hummed and burrowed his face into Mitchell's back, just a minute or so longer, please, oh please.

Then he felt his stomach painfully pull into knots, and it grumbled loudly.

Gideon's face turned red, and he pulled back immediately, only to have tingles run down his spine when Mitchell laughed.

"Hungry?"

The Britisher grunted, "It's nothing." Nope, it's not nothing. He hadn't eaten for hours, and the adrenaline rush and cold atmosphere wasn't helping at all.

"You want to eat something at a diner?" At this point, they've reached an area with a moderate amount of cars and pretty city lights.

"No thanks, I've got no money," Gideon said in secret dismay, as they approached a diner.

Mitchell surprised him by turning into the diner's parking lot. "It's on me, don't worry," he chirped, turning off the engine and glancing over to give Gideon a grin. "Come on."

Stunned by the generosity, Gideon quietly followed the taller man inside. A bell tinkled as the door opened, and it was all the characteristics of a typical diner—fluorescent lights, pretty waitresses, a steaming jug of tea on standby, a long counter with cushioned red stools, and booths.

They sat on the stools, next to each other, as the waitress came up and greeted them amiably.

Gideon ordered a greasy cheeseburger, fuck what he was wearing and how gentlemanly he must look, but he would kill for something unhealthy to eat right now. Mitchell ordered some bacon, and hot drinks for both of them.

Gideon and Mitchell chatted about frivolous things, got to know more each other, down to the most unimportant questions, to learning they both loved guns, and loved cats, and loved the same food. They shared stories and made ridiculous puns to the point Gideon had Mitchell laughing like a kid who just read the stupidest joke on a candy bar.

Gideon smiled, too, because he liked seeing him smile. He loved hearing that laugh. Even more so since he was the cause of it.

Gideon's story was interrupted by the doorbell. "Who could that be?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Pizza!" Ilona said excitedly, taking money out of the pocket of her silk pajama pants and going to the door.

"This late at night?" Gideon frowned as she tipped the delivery guy. It was fifteen minutes past eleven already.

"What? Last delivery of the day, of course," Ilona said, opening the pizza box, taking a slice and offering Gideon a slice.

Gideon took a bite of the chicken peperonni. As he chewed, Ilona nodded at him eagerly, grinning. "That's so cool. You escaped the cops, holy fuck. You lucky suka."

Gideon chuckled, and she said, "Please don't tell me you're making this story up."

"Nope."

Ilona looked pleased. "Okay, so, what happened? You were starting to like him, yes? In a romantic way, and you obviously didn't realize it at that time, eh?"

"Oh yeah," Gideon said, his voice muffled by food. He swallowed. "I was just about to get to that. Sheesh, damn delivery guy, interrupting the story."

"Here I was, thinking my first impression of you was you're an asshole," Mitchell smiled, his perfect white teeth were showing from between those finely-shaped lips, as he leaned forward and thanked the waitress when the food arrived.

Gideon thanked the waitress, too, and was about to tell him about his first impression of Mitchell, but the words died in his throat. Thinking back, although he consciously thought, or thought he thought nothing of Mitchell, in truth his subconscious mind whispered one thing when he first laid eyes on him.

Handsome.

Shit, what the fuck is happening.

Gideon tucked into his meal, only half-listening to what Mitchell was telling him, something about a man he called Joker. He chewed, that taste was just heaven, and watched more than listened as the other talked.

Eyes, blue, like his. Were they a shade darker or lighter, he wasn't sure, those beautiful pair of orbs seemed to change colour all the time, or, were they a mixture of azures, dark blue and sky blue and cobalt, either way they were freaking beautiful.

"I don't usually prefer men with long manes," Gideon suddenly said, interrupting Mitchell, gesturing his wavy, chocolate hair, "but, I'll admit, you're the first man I've seen who looks really good with that hair."

Mitchell was silent for a while. Then, he smirked, leaned slightly in Gideon's direction, and said in a low voice, "And I don't usually like people with British accents, but, I'll admit, you're the first one who can make any sentence sound sexy to me."

Gideon kind of froze, as Mitchell took a bite of his bacon and continued his story like nothing happened.

Wait, did they just…wasn't that…flirting?

Flustered, again Gideon prayed he wasn't blushing, he remained silent and just listened throughout the whole meal, and still remained quiet when they finished and Mitchell paid for the late dinner. It wasn't until they reached the bike and got on it that Gideon murmured something.

"Hm, what was that?" Mitchell asked, turning the engine on.

"Thank you," Gideon muttered, his eyes not meeting Mitchell's. The red tint on his cheeks was obvious.

"No problem," Mitchell smirked, reversed and began to drive, before asking for Gideon's address. Gideon told him the name of the apartment building he was living in, and thank God, Mitchell knew where it was, and before long he was on his way home.

They stopped at a traffic light, and as cars whizzed by, a drop of water dripped into the scratch on Gideon's nose, and he looked up. That was when it started to drizzle. Quickly, it accelerated to rain, then to a full-on storm.

Gideon's heart sunk to his stomach again. How can this night get any worse?!

The light turned green. Gideon constantly wiped his eyes from the water, and, worried Mitchell may be suffering the same, shouted over the noise of the wind, "Can you see anything?!"

"Not—really!" Mitchell shouted back, sputtering rain water from his mouth in the process.

Worried they'd get caught in an accident, Gideon reached his hands over Mitchell's shoulders and cupped them above Mitchell's eyes, feeling the eyebrows against the side of his hands. With his sort-of rain shield in place, he shouted, "Is this better?!"

"Yes!" Mitchell replied, and laughed, and then shuddered. Gideon was blind and struggling to breathe since his hands were unavailable to use to wipe the water beating against his face away.

He didn't know how long the drive had been, but he was grateful that the rain reduced to the point he could see a bit.

No words can describe the amount of relief he felt when he saw his apartment building.

"Here?" Mitchell asked, stopping in front of the entrance.

"Yes, it is," Gideon said, quietly at first, staring at it like he never thought he'd never see it again. Then, he laughed and shook his head, "Oh shit, it really is. I didn't think I'd make it through the night to reach home."

The rain still beat down on his skin and face, but the wind wasn't as strong as it was previously.

Mitchell laughed at Gideon's sentence, smiling brightly as the Britisher dismounted the motorbike. "Tonight was fun, though. We should get chased around by cops again some time."

"Sounds stupid, but I'd like that," Gideon grinned back. Then the silence settled, and Gideon coughed, saving him the awkwardness. "Listen. I'm…very sorry."

"For what?"

"Your fuel, your time, almost getting you in the lockup, your money, and now you're soaked…and on top of all that I was being a rude wanker at first. I haven't apologized. So, I'm sorry. And, thank you. I really mean it."

"No problem, and I really mean it, too," Mitchell laughed, rainwater running down his face and soaking his hair, making it a shade darker but also making his eyes stand out more. "In return, you gave me the best fun I've ever had in a long time."

Gideon couldn't help but smile, Mitchell's happiness was so contagious. He wondered whether he should ask to meet again, but how awkward would that be…

"It was a great night. Thanks again," Gideon smiled, gave him his rare, genuine smilethat he reserved only for special occasions. "I hope we'll meet again."

"We will," Mitchell smiled back.

Reluctantly, Gideon turned around to enter the apartment, the longer he stood here the higher the chances he'd get a cold, but before he could, Mitchell somehow managed to get a grip on his wet, slippery arm.

"Wait."

Gideon glanced over his shoulder, and didn't feel like moving away when Mitchell stood from his bike to lean towards him.

"He kissed you?!" Ilona's jaw dropped to the floor.

"The bridge of my nose, where the scratch was," Gideon mumbled, embarrassed and looking away.

"No wonder your face was so red when you came up!" Ilona's face was the definition of disbelief. "Oh God, tell me you have his phone number!"

"Nope. I didn't ask for it, I lost my phone, remember?"

"You could've used the house phone!"

Gideon chuckled. "Relax, Ilona."

"Relax? Gideon, you're actually showing some romantic interest in someone for once! How can you not—"

"He'll be picking me up for lunch this Friday."

"…oh."

"Yep."

"…"

"…"

"Wait, so…was this the worst night or best night of your life?"

Gideon didn't answer, instead he laughed and wished Ilona good night before heading into his bedroom.

A/N: Thanks for reading, and leave a review, da, comrade? xDD