Dante stood on the top of a rooftop, pacing nervously and straying far from the edge. He didn't like heights – Angelo chose this location to swap intel, but he hated it. Dante might have been tall at nearly six feet, but it was scary to stand at the top of a building with no railing. He desperately wanted to go downstairs again, as it was an old apartment building without a call button system, but he wasn't about to abandon the plan.
It was dark out, and nobody was really around. He held a paper bag with food in it, but he wasn't sure if he chose correctly. Angelo had never really shown up before with food or drink in hand, and it was kind of weird to text your informant, "what do you want for dinner?" so he just chose at random. He hoped he chose correctly, but Angelo didn't seem like a picky guy.
Finally, the rooftop door opened, and Dante turned a little too excitedly. Angelo stepped out onto the roof, but he had a hood on and his features concealed. The only reason Dante knew it was Angelo was because of how… small he was.
Angelo lowered his hood, looking up to see Dante smiling. He was wearing a long beige coat and no facial coverings, making Angelo think he was foolish for being so clear and unconcealed in the open. Dante held up a paper bag, contents unknown, but that didn't last long.
"Brought food," He said casually.
The young fire starter stared at him. Was he serious? He brought a bag of food to a meeting for passing information on criminals, murderers, and enforcers? That was ridiculous, especially when meeting with someone you didn't fully trust yet… how did Angelo know it wasn't poisoned? Dante blinked, confused by his silence before it clicked.
"Oh, it's all prepackaged." He said, apparently (not really) reading his mind. "But uh, I figured we knew each other well enough to share food, no?"
Angelo blinked at him, once, then twice. After that, he moved on past him to go sit on the edge of the building. However, as he reached it, standing there… Dante cleared his throat. He glanced back, and he saw a nervous expression on his face.
"Um…" He hummed. "Wouldn't it be smarter to sit away from the edge? Like, y'know… eyes? People… watching?" He swallowed.
Angelo gazed at him a little longer before he pulled out his phone, typing quickly. When Dante saw him doing that, he pulled out his own, quickly navigating to his contact. As he suspected, Angelo was sending him a message.
Angel:
You're scared of heights, aren't you?
Dante glanced up again, giving a sheepish smile. Angelo shook his head and scoffed, and that was probably the first sound he ever really heard him make – even if it was just a rush of air through his mouth, and a click that wasn't really using his vocal cords. Angelo stepped off of the edge and back onto the building, walking over to Dante as he sat down and took a seat across from him.
"Thank you," Dante said quietly.
Angelo glanced up, blinking, unsure how to respond to that. Had anyone ever thanked him before and actually meant it? Did anyone he ever met sound as sincere as Dante did just now? It was a surprise, but he didn't show it on his face – just straight seriousness and a hint of confusion.
Dante pulled out a food from the paper bag: a sub sandwich with a plastic airtight wrapping, ham and cheese with packets of mayonnaise, ketchup, and mustard. Then came the two sodas, one grape and the other orange, while a rather decent sized bag of chips came out after that.
Dante set it all up nicely, and he was going to let Angelo open it, but he just stared in what seemed like silent shock. So Dante took it upon himself to pop open the sandwich and nudge it towards him. Angelo blinked and took one half, picking up the mustard with a glance at him. He nodded, and Angelo continued to open it and squirt it on the sandwich. There was more staring, then he bit into it, chewing slowly.
Dante grinned, popping open the chips and digging in to the cheddar flavoured squares of tortilla. As they sat quietly, he couldn't help but feel content – Angelo was eating like he hadn't eaten all day, and honestly Dante was just happy he could provide him something. The words rang in his head of Jose: Treat him right, or I'll rip out your throat. He didn't doubt it for a second; that guy was big.
"Oh!" He said suddenly. "I almost forgot – I've been practicing again."
Dante put down the chip bag and thought for a moment, then motioned in sign language with a big grin. Thank me for coming.
Angelo watched him for a moment, blinked, then motioned again in nearly identical sign. Thank you for coming, He corrected.
Dante seemed confused before he grinned and face palmed. "I told you to thank me, didn't I?"
Angelo shrugged with a bit of a smirk before taking a chip. Dante laughed. "I meant to thank you!" He said. "Guess I didn't practice enough."
Just as Angelo was about to pull out his chip from the bag, he dropped it and went in again, but Dante misinterpreted and tried to reach in as well. Angelo violently flinched back when he felt the warmth of someone else's touch, holding his hand like a static shock just went through him, a deep concern in his eyes. Dante blinked, staring at him and slowly taking his hand away from the bag.
"You okay?" He asked, and Angelo briefly nodded. Dante bit his lower lip. "Why do you do that?"
Angelo looked at him, confused… and Dante finished in a softer tone. "Why do you flinch?"
Partially stunned for a moment, Angelo looked away, rubbing the back of his palm where he could still feel Dante's graze of his hand. Didn't hurt… but it was warm. Soft. For some reason, he was focusing on that longer than he was his beating heart.
Dante gently pushed the bag towards him, offering a shy smile. Angelo looked at the bag, hesitated, then took a chip. After that, Dante took his. Angelo didn't know how to react; coexisting in a space together where you didn't have to feel forced to interact was strange.
So as they continued the night, not forcing anything but just sharing the intel like they were supposed to, Dante acted a little different. Not hiding his concern for the moment that happened, but not pushing, either. It felt… nice, and Angelo could only continue to wonder to himself.
Why did he flinch?
Why did he always flinch?