(no subject)
[Later that morning.]
It's the little things, right, like the way your shoe fits snuggly against his under the formica table, or how you realise this is already the second time you watch him order from a waitress, and how he gets with other people, friendly but almost a little reserved, always devoting all of his attention to the person he's speaking to, whether that person is wearing an apron or nothing at all.
Jack leans against the vinyl backrest and nods wordlessly when the young woman (grinning from Johnny's attention while her smile had been so drab when she'd first addressed them) asks if he'll take a coffee as well. He wouldn't normally, but just like Jack ate the chips Johnny doused in catsup the night before at the pub, he'll drink this poor excuse for caffeine and it won't matter, will be a world away beneath the curves of Johnny's accent and the natural lilts of his voice. Johnny always smiles when he speaks (so far anyhow); it's terribly, terribly difficult to look away.
"Scrambled eggs and toast for me." He hands the menus back to the waitress with a perfunctory glance and realises a bit too late that he hasn't been paying her the same courtesy Johnny has. "Thanks," he adds, and she throws him an amused glanced over her shoulder as she walks away.
Is it that obvious?
It's the little things, right, like the way your shoe fits snuggly against his under the formica table, or how you realise this is already the second time you watch him order from a waitress, and how he gets with other people, friendly but almost a little reserved, always devoting all of his attention to the person he's speaking to, whether that person is wearing an apron or nothing at all.
Jack leans against the vinyl backrest and nods wordlessly when the young woman (grinning from Johnny's attention while her smile had been so drab when she'd first addressed them) asks if he'll take a coffee as well. He wouldn't normally, but just like Jack ate the chips Johnny doused in catsup the night before at the pub, he'll drink this poor excuse for caffeine and it won't matter, will be a world away beneath the curves of Johnny's accent and the natural lilts of his voice. Johnny always smiles when he speaks (so far anyhow); it's terribly, terribly difficult to look away.
"Scrambled eggs and toast for me." He hands the menus back to the waitress with a perfunctory glance and realises a bit too late that he hasn't been paying her the same courtesy Johnny has. "Thanks," he adds, and she throws him an amused glanced over her shoulder as she walks away.
Is it that obvious?