Everything Meant Nothing | Part 14: Burgers and Milkshakes (Patreon)

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older. Everything portrayed is safe, sane, and consensual.

Part 14: Burgers and Milkshakes | The Dating Phase

We pulled into the diner lot just past nine. Neon letters buzzed faintly above the glass-paneled windows, casting a warm red glow onto the empty pavement. It had that unmistakable Riverdale vibe; retro chrome edges, striped booths, and a kind of quiet charm that felt frozen in time. For some reason, it felt exactly right.

Theo parked, turned the keys, and looked over at me with that little smile that was becoming dangerously addictive. “You ready for the best milkshakes you'll ever have?”

I laughed. “Big claim. Hope you’re right.”

He grinned wider. “Trust me, I am.”Inside, the place was nearly empty, save for a couple in the corner sharing a plate of onion rings and an older man flipping through a newspaper. The waitress, a woman in her late thirties with a tired ponytail and a kind smile, waved us toward the back booth.

Theo slid in first, and I followed, settling beside him. The booth’s red leather stuck slightly to my thighs, and the table wobbled if you leaned too hard, but it didn’t matter. It felt... private. Like our own little pocket of the night.

We ordered burgers, fries, and a pair of milkshakes; chocolate for me, vanilla for him.

“So,” Theo said, resting his chin in one hand, “first official date... how am I doing?”

I pretended to ponder, tapping my fingers against the table. “Well, I haven’t died of embarrassment yet, so that’s a win.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling in that soft way I was learning to crave. “Just wait till the milkshake part. That’s when the real chaos starts.”

Our food came quickly. The burgers were gloriously messy, and the fries were the perfect kind of salty that made your mouth water before you even took a bite. We ate, laughed, talked. Theo stole a few fries off my plate. I pretended to be offended. He didn’t stop.

Halfway through my burger, I felt something under the table; his foot, lightly brushing against mine. Then his hand found mine beneath the table edge, his fingers sliding between mine slowly, like he was checking if I’d flinch.

I didn’t. I just looked up at him, and he smiled like he already knew I wouldn’t.

We sat like that for a while; hands tangled out of sight, bodies angled toward each other, the rest of the diner falling into a blur. There was nothing showy about it. No grand gestures. Just quiet things: a squeeze of the hand, the way he listened when I talked about class, the moment his thumb lightly stroked the inside of my wrist like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

At one point, a smear of sauce landed just at the corner of my mouth. I reached for a napkin, but Theo beat me to it.

“Hold still,” he said.

He leaned across the table, gently wiping the spot with a folded napkin. His fingers lingered for a moment just long enough for me to forget how to swallow properly and then he pulled back, a little smile playing at his lips.

“There,” he said softly. “Got it.”

I stared at him, cheeks hot, heart ridiculous.

“You okay?” he teased.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Totally normal. Not blushing or anything.”

He chuckled, satisfied.

Eventually, our milkshakes arrived, stacked high with whipped cream and topped with striped paper straws. I took a sip of mine and immediately groaned. “Oh my god. This is amazing.”

Theo took a long sip from his, then winced and clutched his head. “Arghh. Brain freeze.”

I laughed. “Omg Theo”

He just kept the dramatic pose going, one hand over his forehead like he was in a black-and-white war movie. “Tell my family I went out doing what I loved.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” he corrected, sitting up straighter and giving me a look that was way too smug for someone recovering from a self-inflicted milkshake injury.

Theo lifted his glass again, and when he pulled back, there was a smear of whipped cream clinging to the corner of his mouth. He caught my grin, raised his brows, and instead of wiping it, leaned in like he was modeling it on purpose. “Does this add to the charm?”

I laughed. “You look so cute.”

He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue dramatically before finally swiping it away with a napkin.

We lingered for a while, talking between sips, laughing too loud when Theo tried (and failed) to balance a fry on his straw. It wasn’t just fun; it was easy. Comfortable. The kind of night that made you forget there’d ever been awkwardness or tension or that terrifying unknown between two people figuring each other out.

Eventually, the waitress came by with the check and a warm, knowing smile. “You two have a good night now,” she said, stacking the empty plates.

Theo gave her a polite nod, but as soon as she walked off, he glanced at me with a teasing tilt of his head. “So… you gonna invite me back to your place?”

I blinked. “Shut up. We live together.”

“Still waiting for the invite,” he grinned, standing up and stretching slightly. “Feels more romantic if I’m formally asked.”

I rolled my eyes and slid out of the booth. “Fine. Come back to my room. Happy?”

His grin widened. “Very.”

We stepped out into the night, side by side, his hand brushing against mine now and then like it was muscle memory. The drive back was quiet in that full kind of way like nothing needed to be said for it to mean something.

By the time we got inside the flat, the lights were dim, just the faint glow of the hallway light trailing behind us. I hesitated for a second outside my bedroom door, heart pounding in that annoyingly obvious way. But when I looked back, Theo was already watching me.

I opened the door, held it just wide enough for him to follow.

He did.

And when it clicked shut behind us, it stayed closed.

-------------Bonus Scene #3 : We Don’t Have To Rush | Everything Meant Nothing