Mickey’s was bustling with teens and college kids at this time of night, making the atmosphere for their meeting decidedly not date-like. The small diner was shaped like a boxcar and decorated with shiny chrome and pictures of old cars. It had a few signs on the counter bearing Pride flags and All Creatures Welcome messages.

Bellamy hadn’t really done much at home besides finish up documentation from the day and scroll on his phone. For posterity, he’d changed into furred boots, a cute pair of leggings, and an oversized sweater that fell off his shoulder. Just to justify his thirty minutes to get ready.

In reality, Bellamy had a very rigid grooming routine that he could condense into a ten-minute affair. He wasn’t usually going to come out and say that he was just a brat for the comedy. It was an easy way to mask his discomfort if he just made himself insufferable on purpose, instead of enduring the horror of being annoying accidentally.

Orion was already at a little booth by the windows, arms crossed and phone in hand. A chunky flannel scarf was wound around his neck and draped over a worn denim jacket dappled with pins and patches. He seemed to feel Bellamy’s gaze on him; his eyes snapped up, rectangular pupils fixing on Bellamy with such intensity Bellamy swore it would give him sunburn.

Orion’s face didn’t move much except that one of his cheeks got a bit rounder, a half a smile that didn’t brighten his amber eyes. A smile of courtesy.

Bellamy gave him a wave that was a little more enthusiastic than he intended as he skirted around the booths and youths and to Orion’s table. The scent of onion rings, burgers, and sweet ice cream made him salivate. Bellamy was dreading the day that his metabolism finally made him pay for his love for foods that were bad for him.

“Thanks for meeting me,” Bellamy said sweetly as he dropped into the seat and took off his jacket and scarf. Even the short walk across the street had made his lips crack and his bones ache. He plucked his chapstick from his crossbody and swiped it across his lips while Orion watched in silence.

Finally Orion replied, “What can I say? I’m a slut for ice cream.”

Bellamy snorted with amusement. “Have you had their banana split?”

“Gross.” Orion shuddered even as Bellamy scoffed in indignation. “Butter brickle praline or bust.”

“Nuts in ice cream is a travesty.”

The waiter dropped an order of fries off at the table next to them before they spun to face Bellamy. They were an older vampire with charcoal-colored skin. “Banana split for Banana-llamy?”

“You know it, Les! And a butter brickle praline malt for my new coworker.”

Les raised their brows. “Oh, you’re not on your own there anymore? How about that. Waters while you wait?”

“That’d be great. Thanks, friend.” Bellamy smiled and then returned his gaze to Orion. “Yes, I bitch about everything to everyone,” he explained. “Now, I don’t know anything about you except you’re a licensed social worker. How’d you end up in a position I didn’t even know Dr. Williams wanted to fill?”

Orion sighed for a silent moment as if searching for words. He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze swinging away toward the snowflakes gathering on the window. “My job fell apart yesterday. Dr. Williams said she saw my announcement on social media.”

Bellamy felt that uncomfortable dissonance of having a personal conversation that evoked empathy. He knew how he would respond to a client telling him that, possibly dropping a curse or asking who he should kill. But he had no idea what his unfamiliar new colleague might appreciate from him.

He swiped another layer of chapstick onto his already dry lips before he managed lamely, “And I ended your day by insulting you to your face.”

Orion grimaced and said nothing. He twisted a chunky, artsy ring on his right ring finger, the knuckle of which was brushed with a thin layer of black fuzz.

Bellamy sighed, leaning back in the cracked vinyl seat. “Listen.”

Orion’s silence continued. He was uncannily still, like he was in elk form standing motionless in the forest.

The words were struggling to get out of Bellamy’s body. The clamp of fear was oppressive, cold and hard and closing in on his throat. His mouth hung slightly open. Bellamy pulled off his beanie by its furry pom pom. Static clung to the ends of his hair and crackled against the hat as it withdrew.

He looked like he was trying to stop it, but Orion’s left eyebrow was inching up on his forehead, wary and dubious.

“I haven’t gotten triggered in a long time,” Bellamy muttered. “You…” His voice trailed off. Look like him, that couldn’t be said. Shouldn’t have touched me, wasn’t fair, since Orion’s fingers had barely skimmed Bellamy’s hip when he’d felt himself go cold last night. “Didn’t deserve the consequences,” Bellamy finally sighed.

“Oh.” The grumpy skepticism eroded from Orion’s features. Bellamy saw a familiar flash of remorse and pity, but Orion smothered those quickly and glanced up as Les returned with their ice creams.

Bellamy was relieved to stuff a bunch of whipped cream, ice cream, and chocolate sauce in his mouth for a moment of peace. He kept his eyes on his dish as he tried to settle his rabbit heartbeat. This was so stupid, but exactly the kind of vulnerability that helped to keep Bellamy’s snark in check, and would hopefully build some sort of understanding with Orion.

But the longer that the man said nothing, the less certain Bellamy was that he’d made the right move.

He snatched a quick look at his shifter colleague, who was absently stirring his malt with a furrow in his brow.

“I love clubbing,” Bellamy blurted around a too-big bite of banana. He swallowed before continuing. “I go to Shimmer all the time. It’s my cardio I guess. Everyone’s touching at Shimmer. I’m usually fine. So like, how stupid is it that I—” He paused, gripping his beanie and squeezing it till his knuckles blanched. “How embarrassing is it that I got so stupidly triggered out of the blue?”

Orion quickly shook his head. “Therapists have gone through shit, too.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes and groaned. “Shut up. I know that.”

“I really wasn’t gonna hold Shimmer against you,” Orion added, finally spooning some ice cream into his mouth.

“Yeah, but…” Bellamy sighed, cutting another banana chunk with his spoon. “I don’t want you to dislike me.”

“Oh.” Orion smirked as he wiped his mouth with one of the thin napkins from the silver box on the table. “So you’re one of those people who wants to be universally adored.”

“Shut the hell up!” whined Bellamy. “I can tolerate being disliked, dick!”

He chuckled. “You sure about that?”

Bellamy shoveled more of his sundae into his mouth before he exclaimed, “Are you sure about that, Mr. Pendleton?” They shared a moment of silence, both smiling a bit, letting the commotion of the rest of the diner fill the space between them and take the edge off any awkwardness. Maybe this was working, thought Bellamy. He asked politely, “What was your job before?”

Spoon in mouth, Orion blinked hard. His lashes were long and thick, fluttering over his eyes several times. Bellamy could hear his heavy exhale that came tumbling out of his nostrils around his gold spiked septum ring.

“I had a nonprofit.”

Bellamy’s stomach dropped. Had was the operative word, and it was heavy with grief. “Ah, shit.”

“I don’t wanna talk about that anymore, if that’s okay. I’m feeling pretty raw still.” Orion set his spoon back in his glass and took a drink from his water. Bellamy noticed his hand trembling before his grip settled on his cup. “Death of a lifelong dream and whatnot.”