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Innamorato; Passionflower <3
Topic Started: Apr 10 2010, 08:22 PM (2,579 Views)
passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Needless to say, Thomas was startled to have the other man on the other side of the phone just steam roll his polite greeting so rudely. Yup, it was definitely Salvatore. His brows furrowed a bit. That question, asked a second time now. When did it happen? ... When did what happen? When did... Paul die? Surely Sal had been informed about all those damnable details. Thomas was silent for a moment or two, as he attempted to figure out the rather vague question before asking for clarification.

Looks like Sal took the silence as a hint, and he finally clarified his thoughts. The engagement ring. When had him and Paul become fiancees. That was what he wanted to know? The Brit was still silent a moment or two. He reached over to the shower and turned off the water. He went about grabbing a towel and drying himself off a bit as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder.

"Paul didn't tell you?" was the first thing to come to his mind, and the question just came into existence without a second thought. But he quickly seemed to answer his own question in his head. Paul hadn't told him. Either that or Salvatore had a horrible memory. He couldn't be sure as to which.

He tied his towel around his waist, as he then drew in a slow breath and let it out. Memories returned. Happy ones, as he recalled them.

"... Paul proposed, roughly a month before the accident. We'd been celebrating our third anniversary since we'd begun dating, at a restaurant called Bella Roma." he sat down on the edge of his bed. "Was one of his favorite places. He said the food reminded him of home," he smiled just a bit to himself. He cleared his throat then.

"He gave me the ring that night. It totally caught me off guard, but... it made me ... incredibly happy." he sighed a little as his eyes closed. The last thing he wanted was to begin bawling on the phone with his dead lover's twin on the other line.

"We were going to get married in the Autumn, after graduation. Washington D.C. allows the kind of union we wanted." he spoke softly. Enough details. He doubted Sal even cared to know most of what he'd shared. But he couldn't help himself.

"So he really didn't mention it to you? ..."
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
He put out his cigarette with an angry, forceful few jabs at the ashtray on the table as Thomas spoke. But as angry as he was, a much more annoying feeling kept overturning it. The kind that made his stomach knot and clench, his teeth biting into his lower lip and eyes squinting hard against a painful, hot sting in the corners. It made him clench his jaw the longer Thomas talked, explaining the proposal; not overly detailed, which Sal was grateful for, but still enough so that he pictured it all. He could see it. Maybe because he knew Paul so well… he could imagine the nervous pleasure his brother would wear on his face and he could see the way he’d smile that big, almost too bright smile of his.

Hearing about the restaurant they’d been, Sal snorted just to keep from acknowledging that yes… he was very near crying. “Bullshit,” he huffed on a too shaky laugh for his own comfort. “He hated home. Hated Italian food… used to drive me crazy how much he’d complain.”

Swallowing hard, Sal braced a palm against his forehead. He had to close his eyes, if he kept them open he knew he’d start crying. And he hadn’t cried since the night he’d found out about the accident. He hadn’t even cried at the funeral – he’d done it enough that night to last him a lifetime, but apparently his supply had rebuilt a bit over the last month. He’d be damned though if he was going to start blubbering like a sick baby on the phone with a guy like Thomas Hayward. No way in hell was he going to do that.

“No, he didn’t tell me. He didn’t tell me.” Sal shook his head slowly, against his palm. “Guess he didn’t want me to know,” he frowned even as he said it. That didn’t seem like Paul to him. Why didn’t he tell him?
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
The Brit oddly felt his gaze soften, as he stared off at the wall. The shuddering, uneven tone of Sal was a peculiar one. Though a smirk played over his lips as Sal insisted that Paul having an Italian restaurant as his favorite one was total bullshit. He lifted a smaller towel he'd grabbed on the way out, and ruffled his hair with it a bit, to help dry it.

"... Even if someone says they hate home, they don't really ... hate it. Everyone to some extent loves their home. And Paul was no different," he explained, with a surprisingly gentle air to his voice. After all, many people had to be yanked away from home to fully realize how much it actually meant to them. But he left the issue at that. No reason to argue it further. It was just a detail. They'd happened to have been at Bella Roma. That was all...

Thomas felt a faint tinge in his chest though, perhaps a similar strange sort of betrayal that Salvatore had been feeling. Paul really hadn't told his family? His brother? Why? Had he been ashamed of him? Did he not want the family to know? Or was he assuming the worst...

His throat tightened a bit, as he closed his eyes and rubbed a bit at the bridge of his nose. "... My only guess could be, since it had only been a month, that maybe he was waiting for the right time to tell you. Maybe when he took his next holiday home to share the news in person. But because of... what happened... he never got a chance to," he murmured quietly. A sigh escaped him then. That did sound more like Paul. The gentler of the two twins had never come off as ashamed of who he was, to Thomas anyway. It had been something he'd admired in the other man. And the very idea of him trying to hide it from his family just did not seem like him. At all.

Things turned quiet on the phone for a beat or two. Thomas soon realized the lingering pause, and he cleared his throat as he searched for something more to say, to fill the space.

"... Thank you for calling, by the way," he finally managed. Even if his greeting had been exceedingly rude.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal didn’t say anything about the whole ‘home’ part of the conversation. It seemed plausible enough to him, Thomas’ point on the matter that was. So he didn’t bother to argue. He knew Paul didn’t actually hate home, here in New York. Like, not hate hate at least. He knew better than that; Paul wasn’t a hate kind of person. Sal was pretty sure it’d be safe to say Paul didn’t even hate his worst enemy, that is, if the blond had even had a worst enemy. Sal doubted it.

He hummed a faint sound as Thomas continued, providing a possible answer as to why Paul hadn’t said anything about the engagement. That sounded right too. It did sound like something Paul would do, to wait and announcing something like that in person. It was enough to comfort him a little, latching onto the explanation. It made it hurt less to believe Paul was just waiting. He really hoped that was it. He’d never forgive himself if he’d given Paul a real reason to keep something like this from him.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek when silence stretched between them. Sal removed his hand from his forehead and let himself open his eyes, the threat of tears falling gone for the most part. The news was still playing in front of him and he noted the absence of water in the background on Thomas’ end, he’d been a little too strung out to notice when it had first stopped. He noticed it now though and he wouldn’t lie, it did leave him feeling a little on the awkward side, knowing Thomas was more than likely sitting around in his towel or something on the other side of the line. He refused to let himself think about it too long.

“Yah, well…” he shrugged to himself at Thomas’ thanks. He didn’t know how else to respond; saying ‘you’re welcome’ at this point felt weird. And he also didn’t really want to share how not being able to properly fuck a girl last night because he’d been too busy thinking about his brother and the brunet had been part of the reason why he’d ended up calling.

“It just… made me crazy,” he tried to explain a little anyway. “That he didn’t tell me. Thought maybe I’d done somethin’, ya know? ‘Cause he told me about you… not a ton, but like, you know… you weren’t like a secret or some shit.” He sighed, “Couldn’t sleep because he didn’t tell me about that, but he told me everything else. Made me think maybe he didn’t really tell me everything, you know? I don’t know,” he let out a frustrated sound. “Probably stupid… Paul’s not a liar, never was, and he doesn’t hide shit. I should have known better, I guess. He would have told me.”

He made a slight face as a thought occurred to him, brow furrowing. “So, I guess this kinda makes you family… sorta. You woulda been at least.”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
The brunet had gone quiet as Sal began to speak. To explain why that question had been the first thing to blurt out of his mouth as soon as Thomas had picked up his phone. Thomas rolled his shoulders back as he straightened out his posture. "... It's not stupid. I... understand. When you mentioned he never told you, it left me feeling pretty hurt myself," he murmured honestly into the phone. "But you're right. Paul wouldn't lie about stuff like that. It just hadn't been the right time for him to tell you. I don't see how any other explanation could fit..." he agreed. Arguably no one knew the dead man better than Salvatore, his brother... and Thomas, his lover. And the fact they seemed to be in agreement, it had to be that. Nothing else made sense.

Thomas was a bit taken a back when Sal brought up an interesting point though. If they had gotten married... Then Thomas would have become part of Paul's family. Part of Salvatore's family...

His throat tightened at that, but he smiled a little to himself. "Yes. Would have been..." he echoed. But that couldn't very well happen now. Marrying a corpse was out of the question. And wrong on so many levels.

"... Kind of ironic it took the accident to finally get me up here to meet you all. We'd planned to have a proper introduction, Paul and I, to you... and the rest of the family. But it never happened," he sighed a little.

His eyes shifted over to the clock Approaching 9 a.m. Hm...

"... Are you working today?" Thomas asked, perhaps a tad out of the blue. "Because if you're free, would you care to join me for Brunch somewhere?" he put the offer out there. Sal hardly had to take it if he didn't want to.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
It was an interesting thought, imagining what that proper introduction Thomas spoke of might have been like. It made Sal wonder when and where it would have happened; considering his life pretty much revolved around the pizzeria, Paul probably would have either had to fight it out with him to meet somewhere else or come in there for it. Wherever, he was willing to bet it would have been good. Cecelia would have squealed in that high pitched way she sometimes did when she was too excited and overjoyed for words, Uncle Jimmy would have shook his head, but smiled, and he… he was pretty sure he would have been happy for Paul. He knew he would have been. It’d have been shocking, big time, but he’d have been happy for him. For Paul and Thomas. Despite his own trepidation concerning committed, long term relationships. But Paul would have been happy, so Sal knew he would have been happy too.

“Brunch?” He parroted back into the phone, unable to keep from arching a brow on his end. He ended up chuckling quietly to himself over the word; nobody he knew ever actually used a word like brunch.

Sal rubbed his fingers against his brow, still smirking over the word even as he began thinking about the invitation around the word. The idea of meeting Thomas for some food was… well he wasn’t exactly comfortable about it. He wasn’t unease about it either, but definitely not comfortable. But… Thomas was practically family. Sure, there’d been no ceremony and there was no piece of paper officially saying so, but Paul had loved the guy enough to want to marry him. If things hadn’t happened like they had, Thomas would have been officially his brother-in-law. In Sal’s mind, just being such a huge part of his brother’s life and heart made the man family more than any paper or ceremony ever could have.

“I’m the boss, I do what I want,” he was still smirking a bit. He glanced at the clock on the wall above his television, noting the time; still three hours until he normal went in anyway. He could just give Jimmy a quick call, hop in the shower and head out. There was no real reason why he shouldn’t, anyway. “Yah… yah, ok. Sure, we can get Brunch,” he couldn’t help the humor he used when saying the word.

“Where’re you staying? I can meet you somewhere near your hotel…” he pulled himself into an upright position on the couch, turning his head and popping his neck faintly.
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas couldn't help the quirking of one of his dark brows as he caught the peculiar humor that the blond spoke the word 'Brunch' with. Was it really such a strange word to the other man? He didn't bring it up though. But a soft smile played over his face shortly as he agreed to meet him for Brunch. Hah, even a faint giddy flicker had ignited in his stomach. Hm... odd.

He rose up then, and opened up one of the drawers. Since he was staying a while, he'd taken the time to put his things into the drawers. He yanked out a cream colored button down shirt with thin green stripes.

"I'm at the Ritz Carlton on 41st." he informed. Swanky. "There's actually a darling little cafe two blocks down. I believe they're serving Brunch as well. I believe it's called Cafe Lucia," he gave an affirming nod for himself. That sounded right.

"I'll meet you there in... half hour. Is that alright?" he mused. "I'll see you in a bit. Bye for now," he hung up after the other man spoke his good bye. He set his phone on the dresser, then went about getting ready.

Deodorant, and under shirt, then his striped button down ontop. He did up all the buttons, patiently, then adjusted his collar and cuffs in the mirror. He combed back his hair, to prevent it from looking fly away and messy. A pair of casual dark slacks were tugged up over his hips, and his shirt was tucked in and a belt fastened around his middle. He stole another look in the mirror. His fingers smoothed over his chin, as he felt the prickles of hairs that wanted to grow in. A quick shave was in order.

Once he'd finished he patted on some after shave, causing a faint wince in his features. "That smarts..." he mumbled to himself. A spritz of cologne and he gave himself one more look over in the mirror. Considering his upper half well groomed for going out, he flicked out the light and headed back to the bedroom to tug on some black socks and his shoes. Wallet with money, IDs and room key followed, and slid into his pocket.

It was hardly that Thomas was vain. He just... liked to be well taken care of. He hardly wanted to be observed as a slob by the rest of the world. He stepped out of his room, pulled the door closed behind him, and soon was heading down to the main floor and out to the street. Two blocks down and he found himself outside of Cafe Lucia. He hoped Salvatore remembered the name. He glanced to his watch. He was about five minutes early. Stepping in, he went about getting them a table for two. While he waited, he'd grabbed up a copy of the New Yorker from one of the stands outside, and began to flip through idly as the minutes passed. A waitress had since stopped by, and he ordered a hot cup of tea. She brought it back shortly, and he dismissed her till he was joined by his dining companion.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Agreeing to meet the other man, Sal called up Jimmy as soon as he hung up with Thomas. The older man accepted the news that he was either not coming in today or much later without protest, but he heard Cecelia squawking a bit about it in the background. Oh well, she’d get over it. Honestly, the girl was lucky she was his favorite cousin… any employer would have tossed her out by now with all the complaining and backtalk he got out of her. Of course, not that he could really be mad about that. Jimmy did have a point about the influence he’d had on the girl, after all.

A quick scrub and rinse in the shower after his call and he threw on some clothes. A pair of jeans, worn in but clean and a dark-grey fitted shirt with a V-neck collar and ¾ sleeves. His dressing was casual, as it always was, Sal not one to put too much effort into how he looked unless he was made to do so. Which, admittedly, wasn’t often. Not that he was a slob or anything; in fact, he didn’t look bad at all. The fitted shirt hugged his firm middle and arms, the cut of the neck exposing a smooth expanse of upper chest.

It probably helped that he was freshly showered though. None of the dough or flour dusted his hands or face and none of the sweat formed from the ovens greased his brow or forehead.

He scrubbed a hand through his damp hair, not bothering to comb it beyond what his fingers did – the result a slightly disheveled look, though not entirely messy. He didn’t take the time to shave, leaving the growth on his face as it was; unlike Paul, who’d always kept himself smooth faced, Sal preferred a little scruff on his jaw and chin as well as across his upper lip. He kept it mostly neat looking though, so it wasn’t like he just didn’t care and let himself go. He just didn’t worry about it or devote as much time to things like that, like people such as his brother might. He spent too much time thinking about the pizzeria to spare more than a few brief thoughts concerning his attire and facial appearance.

Tugging on the same comfortable sneakers he wore pretty much everyday, Sal made sure he had his wallet and keys. And his smokes. Then headed out the door for Thomas’ decided upon Café Lucia. He knew the place, been in once or twice in his twenty-five years living in New York, so even if he hadn’t hailed a cab for the ride, he wouldn’t have had any trouble getting himself down there.

He made himself not think too much about what he was doing the ride down to towards 41st. There was still a dull tickle of unease in the pit of his stomach rolling around, but he’d decided to do this. And he wasn’t a coward, especially not over a guy like Thomas Hayward. Just because the idea that he’d been involved with his brother, engaged to marry him, was more than a little intimidating didn’t mean he’d chicken out over… Brunch.

Sal snorted faintly as he paid the cabby and crossed the street to the café, running three minutes late, but unbothered by the detail. If nothing else, Thomas was amusing to him. He said things like ‘Brunch’ and ‘darling café’, everything accompanied by the distinctive British lit that seemed better suited to a movie based on one of those books by that Jane Austin lady than it did in New York. Strangely enough, unlike those damn movies Cecelia always managed to drag him along for, it didn’t annoy Sal to listen to Thomas talk as much as he’d thought it would. Actually… he kind of liked it. It was a nice change of pace to the norm in his life.

Once inside, Thomas wasn’t hard to find. He looked as put together as he had the day before, thankfully without the suit this time, but no less spiffy. No wonder he and Paul got on so great… they were both one of those people. The kinds that pay real attention to the way they looked and the message they gave off to people. The kind of people Sal most definitely was not.

“So, you’re gonna have to explain the whole Brunch thing to me,” Sal told the other man as he slid into the seat across from him without preamble. He folded his elbows onto the table, looking at the other man with a slight smirk over the top of his paper. “’s there like a special menu for that or somethin’?”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
It was likely Salvatore was reminded why he didn't go into the Cafe very often. Although Thomas looked perfectly content at their table for two, all of the other customers of the restaurant at 'Brunch time' were what appeared to be little old ladies and middle aged housewives getting out for a while. There was plenty of womanly chatter going on in the background, along with soft music. The cafe was decorated with old paintings and antiques from ages ago.

The brunet lifted his head as Sal approached him. He had to blink once or twice as he took in what had first seemed like Paul dressed up very casually. He tensed as he realized he was being dumb. This was Salvatore. Not Paul. He smiled slowly as he regained his composure and he watched the blond slide into the seat across from him. Thomas folded up his paper as Sal settled himself. His own posture was quite different from the other man's. No elbows on the table. Shoulders straight and he wasn't slumped in the least. His did observe the casual manner in which Sal seated himself, but he said nothing. He wasn't the man's mother. He had no real reason to call him out on it.

"You've never had Brunch?" he mused with a quirked brow. He took a sip of his warm tea a moment and he nudged over the Brunch menu to the other man. "It's a word, combining the words breakfast and lunch. Usually it happens sometime in the late morning. Too early for lunch but too late for breakfast. And the fare is typically a mix between the types of foods you'd find at lunch or breakfast. Omelets, pancakes, toast, sandwiches, soups, salads, fruit..." He went on to explain. He smiled a little and set his cup down.

"They have a pretty impressive menu. And from the amount of people here, it looks like it's pretty nice quality food," he informed as he glanced around the restaurant. The fact they were surrounded by women likely a few decades older than them hardly seemed to bother Thomas.

The waitress came back over shortly. A young woman, maybe around Cecelia's age. She smiled to the two men. "Hello. What can I get you?" she asked. Thomas looked up to her.

"I'll have an eggie in the basket, with some sausage. And also your fresh fruit tray," he informed with a nod. The waitress wrote it down, then looked to Salvatore expectantly.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal listened patiently as Thomas explained the outs and ins about Brunch, palming the menu closer in front of him when the brunet nudged it over. He took a quick glance over the laminated sheet listing the different foods and beverages being offered at the time, but his eyes didn’t stay there for long. They lifted back up to the man across from him; the green in his cream shirt picked out the color of Thomas’ eyes. They were kind of ridiculously distracting right now, to be honest and Sal found himself meeting them just so he could get the full effect of their color.

“Nah, I have it… just never actually heard someone call it Brunch or take it, like, seriously. I just eat it.” He shrugged, glancing around the place as well when Thomas observed that it seemed like a quality place. The number of little old woman wasn’t so much unnerving as it was just amusing to him. “Seems to me like an estrogen-overload event.”

He shrugged again, shifting on his elbows and crossing his forearms as he faced the other once more. “Besides, I don’t actually go out like this for food. I grew up on my dad’s version of breakfast… he was from Italy, you know. Grew up there. We didn’t do the bacon and egg thing like people here do. We did the coffee and morning cake thing, like he did in Italy.” Sal let out an amused breath, recalling, “I think Paul and me were the only eight year olds around who drank black coffee like the other kids’ parents every morning… Paul might have, but I never broke the habit. I just stay in and make my own coffee at home, avoid the whole savory compulsion people got around here for breakfast.”

Sal looked up when the waitress came around; he hadn’t paid much mind to the menu even though it was sitting right in front of him, the blond having been too busy looking at Thomas and remembering things. So when the girl turned to him, he wasn’t prepared, but even if he had been he doubted he’d have answered any more gracefully. The way Thomas had ordered had caused him to stare again, unaccustomed to hearing someone talk like he did.

“Uh… oh, yah… uh, I’ll just take your pancakes. And coffee. Black.” He nodded once to himself, handing over the menu to the girl before she headed off. When she was gone, he arched at brow at the man across from him. “Eggie in a basket?” He'd never heard of such a thing...
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
The waitress penned down what Sal wanted, then she spared them a smile and hurried off to the kitchen to turn in their order. Thomas looked back to Salvatore as he mentioned he'd never heard of an eggie in the basket. A chuckle escaped him then. "If you've really not had much in terms of savory breakfast then I suppose it's not surprising," he mused quietly.

"It's simply a piece of toast with a circle cut in the middle. It's then laid in the frying pan and the egg is cracked into the opening and essentially cooked into the bread," he smiled a bit. "Delicious," he sighed contently. He looked down to his silverware. He straightened out the fork, knife and spoon idly with his fingertips. Maybe he was a bit too orderly for some people, but it ws just part of Thomas. Everything kept neat...

"It's one of my favorite dishes from childhood. My mum used to cook it for breakfast for us, usually on the weekends," he informed. His eyes lifted back up to look at Sal's. The blue's were a bit startling, since well... Paul had the same color of blue. But the looks in their eyes were very different. Paul had a gentle look to his gaze. Whereas Sal was something entirely all his own.

His hands slid back to his lap, in a mannerly fashion. Well, he was feeling... surprisingly good right then. He could understand why Sal would avoid talking about his brother. Not thinking about him in some ways made it easier to be happy. But... he hoped maybe one day, he could think of his dead lover and instead of be sent spiraling down into sadness, but to look upon those memories fondly. But he wasn't at that point yet.

In some ways, maybe it was better that Sal didn't act or dress a think like Paul did. It would have made things harder, he was pretty sure. His mind would be fooled or confused. Though it still was, a bit ... now. He pushed those thought out of his head, cleared his throat and put a warm smile on his face.

"It's still fascinating, to me... that you two would be born at the same time and raised by the same family, yet could come out so incredibly different," he smiled a little. "I guess nature and personality are more unique than the scientists like to believe... hm?" he watched the blond, eyes taking a moment to drink in the familiar features of his face, wrapped in a hint of stubble. Hm... Paul wouldn't have looked too bad with a hint of facial hair, it looked like. Though why he suddenly thought that... Oh forget it.

The waitress returned shortly with Sal's coffee. She smiled to him, then turned and hurried off to one of her other tables.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Sal made a slight face as the concept of an ‘eggie in the basket’ was explained to him. Didn’t sound so appetizing to him, but well, he wasn’t the one about to eat it. So it was a nonissue.

He dropped his eyes to the table while Thomas talked about Paul and the differences between him and his brother. Not because he was too overly uncomfortable about it, he was actually feeling all right about it. Strange, but a relief. For now at least. He shrugged, “Yah, I guess. I always just figured he’d ended up with the bigger share of smarts was why we ended up so different. I played soccer, he was on the debate team. I was happy flipping pizza, he wanted to save people’s lives. It was always like that. We were just different.” He shrugged again, “Don’t really know why.”

When his coffee came he spared another glance at the young girl who’d brought it. He nodded a slight smile in return for her smile, but otherwise didn’t pay her much more mind. He took a healthy swallow of the hot beverage, humming a pleased sound as it warmed the back of his throat and stomach. He leaned back in his chair then, one hand content to remain around his mug and the other pulling back to hook his elbow around the back of his chair and hang comfortably while he looked at the brunet; the difference between them as blatantly obvious to Sal as the differences between him and Paul had been.

“So, I gotta ask,” he flashed another small smile, nodding once toward Thomas. “The accent. You’re not from Maryland originally, are you?”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas listened as Sal listed off a few of the minor differences between him and Paul. He blinked twice, at the other mentioning he played soccer. Then it clicked, and a bemused look came over his face. "... So you played football? ... Soccer, here in the States," he clarified, more for himself than for Salvatore. The difference in vocab had tripped him up a little, but he'd caught it relatively fast.

When asked if he was originally from Maryland he smiled that charming smile of his and shook his head. "Hardly. I was born and raised in England. I've only been in the states a little over three years now. I suppose the old accent is still hanging on, though," he chuckled a bit. His hands lifted, and wrapped around his warm tea cup.

"Paul told me you all are full blooded Italian. Born in the States though right? But your parents immigrated here before you two were born," he smiled. Even if Paul took no real pride in his heritage, it seems he had discussed it plenty with Thomas.

"Have you ever been to Italy?" he asked out of curiosity. A rather excited smile came to his face. "I've always wanted to go. Visit Rome and Florence, just soak up all the culture, the art and the food," he grinned a bit. Obviously Thomas was a man who loved culture, of all varieties it seemed.

His face feel a little. He didn't speak it, but of course his thoughts went back to Paul. Besides just marriage they had so many other plans. Open a medical practice together. Tour the world. Start a family... He didn't speak those words. There was no real reason to. They weren't going to happen now. His green eyes, betraying the tinge of unhappiness, had flicked down to look at his Earl Grey in his cup.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal felt his mouth twitch when Thomas went about clearing up the soccer/football discrepancy. He nodded, feeling stupidly pleased about the whole thing for no reason he could honestly identify. “Yah, all through high school.”

He’d even gotten a few offers from schools around the country for his skill in the sport, but he’d turned them down. Something Paul had been red-faced and furious with him about for a long time after. Sal’s heart had just always been in their dad’s pizzeria, considering leaving it for school, even if he never did anything with the degree and went back to “Salvatore’s”, the idea had left a bitter taste in his mouth and a heavy heart in his chest. He hadn’t been able to do it and though he sometimes missed the game, he didn’t regret his decision like Paul had been adamant that he would. Sal didn’t mention this though, opting instead to swallow another mouthful of his coffee while Thomas talked.

England. Of course the brunet had come from England; not like it was hard to miss with the accent and all. Sal nodded again when talk turned to Italy, the man’s eyes shifting fondly at the mention of the country. He nodded, “Mom was from Sicily, Dad had an Irish father, but he was born in Naples.”

The fact that Thomas knew at least the basics of the Durante heritage surprised Sal more than a little. Paul didn’t hate the Italian in them or anything; he’d just never been as interested in it as Sal had been, he’d never embraced it like Sal had. Their pride levels over it were as different as most everything else about them. So maybe it was wrong of him, but Sal hadn’t figured Paul would share so much about it with Thomas… though maybe he shared it because it was Thomas. A natural need to share with a lover or something.

Sal blinked a few times when the excited smile broke over Thomas’ face. The man’s love for travel and culture shining through almost at blinding levels. It brought a smile out of Sal too, the blond surprised once more – this time to find maybe he and like Thomas weren’t as different as he’d thought. At least in this aspect, they agreed.

“No, I’ve never been,” he shook his head. He shifted to lean his elbows on the table again, mouth still quirked in a smile as he leaned a bit in towards the other, strangely excited himself to share. “My mother’s there though. She dropped our dad and went back when Paul and me were maybe six.” He grinned a little, “But it’s basically Italy in my kitchen. Our dad was a freak about food, made sure Paul and me knew how to make it right. No way he was gonna have sons who were shit at feeding people. Paul never showed it off to you?” He shook his head, “That’s a shame. All the better though probably; I was always better at the cooking then him anyway.” Sal winked, mouth pulled in grin.

Sal took another sip at his coffee, eyes on Thomas. He noticed the second the man’s mood shifted, feeling it happen as if it were his own. The excitement left the brunet’s face and something happened to his eyes; they kind of dulled along with his smile. It did something funny in Sal. He regretted the change, an urge to make it go back like it had been a moment ago like a physical push at his chest.

“If you want…” he began, trying to figure a way to achieve what he wanted as he went. He was bad at this sort of thing, and he knew it. But he really didn’t like the damper Thomas’ mood had taken, not after seeing how bright it could be. “I mean it’s not Rome or Florence, but I make more than just pizza. I could, you know…” he squinted, “I could make you something. Some time. And I mean I’ve got stuff… of Paul’s and all. If you want you can come see and eat and…” he trailed off with a shrug, frowning into his coffee, pretty sure he sounded stupid. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to fix anything; in his opinion he was just making it worse.
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do it with passion or not at all
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Thomas looked back up as Sal informed him of a secret talent he'd never known his lover had. He could cook. Albeit, not as good as Sal. Or so the older twin insisted. He shook his head. "We didn't have much time to cook for ourselves. It was either the campus cafeteria, or we went out to eat," he informed with a nod of his head. That was a bit saddening. He'd never... get to have Paul's home cooked food. None the less, the other twin's cocky attitude brought a hint of a bemused little look on his own face.

The brunet was quiet for a few moments though, for his mind was still heavy with thoughts of Paul. But his attention was taken as Sal began to speak once more. His curious green gaze watched the blond man in front of him. Make him something? As in cook him up some of the ethnic Italian food he'd been taught to cook? ... That Paul too knew how to make? His green eyes softened then as Salvatore mentioned that he had ... some of Paul's stuff.

Although Sal had begun to frown, as if he was having second thoughts pertaining to his offer, Thomas lifted one of his hands and reached across the table. Long slender fingers. Warm, and relatively soft. He rested his palm and fingers on the blond's wrist, a way of catching his attention so the other would look back at him. He smiled softly as his green eyes connected with those of blue.

"... I'd like that. It sounds like a marvelous idea," he informed with a genuine and sincere smile on his face. Though a chuckle then bubbled up from his chest. "For claiming you got the short end of the stick in terms of coming up with ideas, I'd say this one is excellent," he teased him lightly. His thumb lightly brushed along Sal's forearm. He felt the sparse blond hairs over the lightly tanned flesh. As he realized he might have been lingering a bit too long, he withdrew his hand and rested it back around his tea cup. A faintly bashful look over took him then, but he cleared his throat.

"... As I said, I'm... free the next couple weeks so... whenever it's good for you, just tell me a date and location and I'll be there," he gave a nod.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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