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itsjustsemantics · 1 year

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Love, Javier - chpt: 4

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader/OFC (no y/n, no physical description, established backstory, no clear age gap mentioned)

Content and warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, flirty waitress, casablanca!talk, Vintage diner and banter baby!!

ps- i love diner music :p

Series masterlist

Chapter 4: The Diner

“Stay?” You exclaimed, taking your wide eyes off of the road for a second to give Javier a look of disbelief.

“Of course she wants to stay.” Javier retorted. “Wouldn't you rather end up with Humphery Bogart than the other guy?” He searched his mind for the name, none popped up. Further convincing him that he in fact, was right.

The sun had set and the sky had turned a purplish hue and after a couple shifts and cat naps, what started off as a harmless conversation about Casablanca (courtesy of one of David Letterman’s talk show episodes) had turned into a heated disagreement.

Javier watched you pull into a parking space between two beaten up cars in front of an old, 24 hour diner with a disgruntled huff. Javier exited the car a few seconds prior to you, letting you fix a couple of stray strands of hair in the visor.

The diner was located at a rather run down pit stop, the kind you would usually stay away from, especially at this ungodly hour. But since it was located at one of your silly red crosses, you had to make a stop. Even through the window javier could make out the torn leather seats; the deep cherry red colour not as bright as it should’ve been.

“I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life, married to a man who runs a bar.” You exited, still riled up, making him tear his gaze away from the spotted window and onto you. “I know that sounds snobbish to you but-” You took a second to slap the car door shut.

“So you’d prefer a passionless marriage.” Javier calmly stated.

“-And I'd be the first lady of czechoslovakia.” You added.

“So you’d leave the man you’ve had the greatest sex of your life with simply because he owns a bar.”

“Yes.” You nodded after a second, bringing in your windbreaker towards your chest, shielding away the chill. “And so would any woman in her right mind. We’re all very practical- even Ingrid Bergman,” You turned towards him knowingly, “Which is why she gets on that plane.” You exhaled. “So there.”

“I get it,” Javier shrugged, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets and elongating his strides.

“You get What?” You retorted, scurrying after him.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face.

“What?” You droned, for the second time as the both of you reached the entrance to the greasy looking diner. The floor was chequered black and white, a thin layer of grime coating it and a jukebox in the far corner playing ‘Darlene’ by T. Graham Brown, the static getting in the way of most of the music.

“Obviously, you haven’t had great sex yet.” Javier stepped aside dramatically and held the door open for you. He watched you gape at him incredulously for a few seconds before un-creasing his brow and walking in first himself.

Javier had only been in the car with you for around twelve odd hours and he refused to believe that the woman who now stood scanning the shit pile diner for an acceptable booth, represented the wider population of women. Javier knew women. What you were, he had no idea.

You were far too meticulous and high strung to have had good sex. Too uptight. You had every hour of the eighteen hour drive planned out to a T and as he had seen earlier on your date and then more recently at lunch, you could take even the most simple orders and turn it into something complex and barely comprehensible. It was honestly quite shameless.

Even now, the minute you had arrived at the diner you forgot about your disagreement and previewed every single booth before choosing a ‘clean’ one to sit at. Even if you chose the other guy, (who Javier had figured out was Paul Henried) it wouldn't matter, there was no way he would last even a minute dealing with your uptight nonsense, forget Humphery Bogart.

He slumped into the leather seat of the booth, the material squeaking softly as he did so and watched you do the same, of course before inspecting the seat for unknown stains or residue.

“I've had brilliant sex, for your information.” Javier watched you pick up the menu and scan the contents. He leaned forwards in his seat, upper body resting on his forearms folded across the table.

“Tell me then.” he craned his neck over the line of the menu to get your attention. “Who did you have this brilliant sex with?” He watched you slam the menu down against the table and raise your eyebrows.

“I’m not going to tell you that.” you bit back. He leaned back into his seat, his tongue running along the bottom of his mouth while yours curled into an embarrassed frown.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” He swiped the menu from underneath your palms and lazily dragged his eyes across it. The Judds playing raspily in the background filled the silence.

The both of you turned towards an energetic ‘hi!’ and you smiled, ready to place your order. Your smile faltered when you saw the waitress drinking in Javier’s arms. She was very pretty with red lipstick that matched her checked apron and her luscious ebony hair falling down the length of her shoulder in fluffy curls.

“Hey there.” Javier said, bedazzling her with his charming smile. She caught her bottom lip between her straight teeth and changed her position, accentuating her chest.

“What can I get ya.” She smiled. Javier’s eyes left hers for a brief second and saw you rolling yours and busying yourself with another menu while he gave her his order; completely ignoring the events unfolding in front of you.

“I’ll have the number 3, and a black coffee, no sugar.” Javier turned back to the waitress and smiled. She then turned to you, not quite with the same smile. Javier adjusted his jeans and leaned back into his seat, extending his arms over the rim, waiting to hear what lengthy instructions you had in store this time.

And just like at the restaurant where he had first heard it, he couldn't help but be intrigued by the whole thing.

“I’d like the chef's salad please, but with the vinaigrette, not the honey mustard, on the side. And I'll also have your apple pie.”

“Okayy,” The waitress did a quick job of scribbling it down.

“Wait-” You said, putting down the menu and folding your arms across the table. The waitress half turned, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “I’d like the pie heated and I don’t want the ice cream on top, I want it on the side and I'd like a berry flavour if you have it, instead of the vanilla; if you don’t then no ice cream at all and whipped cream instead.” Just when the waitress thought you were finished, you started again, much to Javier’s amusement. “But, only if it's real, if it’s out of a can, then nothing.”

“Not even the pie?” The waitress

“No, just the pie, not heated.” You finished, as if she had asked the most stupid question.

“Uh huh.” The waitress ran her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She gave Javier one last longing look as she strutted away, hips and all.

Javier stared at you, trying to look for something he clearly couldn't find. His eyes broke away for a second, stealing a sneaky glance at your waitress behind the counter waving at him.

“What.” you asked and with the way you rolled your eyes, he guessed you got this look a lot at restaurants.

“Nothing, nothing.” He smiled as he leaned back into the leather. “It's just interesting that's all.”

“What’s interesting?” You arrowed your eyes in his direction.

“This is what I meant, in the car.” he leaned forwards suddenly. “This is why you’ve never had good sex.”

“My ordering?” You folded your arms across your chest and pursed your lips.

“Not just the ordering.” He said, “You’re far too meticulous to enjoy sex.”

“Shel Gordon.” You cleared your throat.

“Excuse me?”

“Shel Gordon is the great sex I've had.” You pronounced.

“Shel- Sheldon?” Javier snorted. “You did not have great sex with sheldon.”

“Did too.” You retorted.

“Sheldon is your income tax guy, not your sex guy.” Javier shook his head.

“Your salad.” The waitress slid a plate carelessly onto your side, “And the number 3.” she smiled, lowering the plate onto Javier’s. “Let me know if you need anything else.” The waitress drawled seductively, running her fingers across the table as she made her way to the next table.

“It’s the name,” Javier continued, “it just doesn't work.” He bit into his fries.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I've heard.” You dug into your salad, looking for the bits of chicken and Javier shrugged taking a large bite out of his sandwich.

He chewed slowly and swallowed before taking a pause and looking towards you again. “Do it to me, sheldon. You’re an animal, sheldon.” He stressed on the name each time.

You paused and looked at him, mouth still full from the chicken you had found. Your eyebrows knit together creating tiny creases between them.

“Ride me big, sheldon.” He completed, clearly making his point. “It just doesn’t work.” He rested his jaw against his fist and leaned, while his other hand lazily swirled some fries in the puddle of ketchup on his plate. Watching you swallow your chicken, and some of your pride.

“You’re unbelievable.” You finally said, not being able to think of anything clever. You dug into your salad with more gusto, fork clattering against the bottom of the plate and mouth intentionally overfull to avoid conversation.

Javier watched you, cheek still resting on his fist. He had thought you were pretty even before meeting you. Javier had recognised you from family pictures Steve had shown him back in Columbia when they were killing time on a stakeout, surprising himself as to how well he remembered them. Those did no justice whatsoever to how you looked in person. One of them was outside what Steve had said was Connie’s parents place, you were in a denim halterneck, mini dress; all legs. Right in front of the large grill that was being tended to by Steve’s dad alongside Connie, Steve and another man. Javier’s thoughts drifted for a second. Sheldon perhaps.

Although a complete pain in his ass, Javier couldn’t ignore the fact that you were nothing short of incredibly attractive; He was a man after all. He knew the minute he saw you on the curb, those fucking shorts securing against your thighs were going torture him the entire drive.

“I really don't get it,” Javier said, “I’m not trying to come onto you. Rest assured. You’re-” He gestured to the top half of you, your mouth still bulging with food. “-An empirically attractive person. Despite your…quirky traits.” He paused to take a bite of his sandwich. “I don't get why you have to make life so difficult for yourself? Good sex should come easy to you.”

You stopped chewing altogether and Javier wondered if you were aware of the fact.

“Is good sex all you think about?” The question came after you had finished swallowing. The jukebox now played ‘our love is here to stay’ , the one by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.

“You forget whiskey.” Javier brought the cup of coffee to his lips. “I thought Connie told you.” He raised his eyebrows teasing, and took a sip, sucking the coffee that had dripped down onto his thumb with a smooch.

After splitting the bill, the both of you flopped into the car, Javier taking the driver’s seat this time. He pushed open the console and stuck a cigarette between his lips, making a quick job of lighting it.

“Have you thought about what would have happened if Ilsa and Rick never actually slept together?” You fastened your seatbelt and Javier checked the rearview mirror. “Do you think they could’ve just been good friends?”

“No.” His answer was plain and simple.

“Why not?” You discarded your shoes and brought your feet up onto the seat, checking the map on the visor and then your watch.

“Men and women can never be friends.” he stated coolly as he reversed the car, eyes still focused on the mirror.

“That’s quite the claim.” You laughed. “Dare I ask why?”

He shrugged, switching the gears, “The sex always gets in the way.”

“That’s not true” You scoffed, shaking your head “I have a number of male friends and there is no sex involved.”

Javier shook his head. “No you don’t.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, each followed by a small cloud of smoke.

“Yes I do.” He shook his head again, as if his theory wasn’t up for debate which caused you to frantically turn to him nodding. “Yes I do!”

“You only think you do.”

You laughed incredulously. “So you’re saying I'm sleeping with these men without my knowledge?”

“No, what I'm saying is they all want to have sex with you.”

“How do you know?” You creased your eyebrows.

“Chica, we’ve been over this, I know how-”

“Men operate.” You mocked, rolling your eyes.

“Yes, exactly. A man cannot be friends with a woman he finds attractive.”

You laughed, “Ha! So you’re saying a man can be friends with a woman he doesn’t find attractive then.” Javier shook his head, for the third time.

“No, they pretty much want to sleep with them too.” You turned to him, appalled.

“I find it rather amusing that you think every man is cad.” You slapped your hands against the tops of your thighs. “You’d be surprised to find that, some of them actually do care about platonic relations with the opposite sex.”

“I know you think Colin or your male ‘friends’ are above it all,” His tone made quotes over ‘friends’ “but trust me, they’ve all thought about having sex with you at some point or the other and sooner or later they’re going to articulate it.” Javier could tell his words had sunk in a little bit more, with your prolonged silence.

“What if I don’t want to have sex with them?” You raised an eyebrow curiously.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “The sex thing is already out there and hence the friendship has already gone to dog shit, end of story. Men and women can't be friends.” A truck honked beside you causing you to jump in your seat.

“So you don’t have any female friends?” You asked, tone bordering on pity, remnants of disbelief still hung on your words.

“Nope.” Javier said, smacking his lips on the ‘p’

“Let me guess, it got in the way.” You teased.

“Yes.” He turned to you. “It got in the way.”

“I’m still not convinced by the fact that you think all men are as perverse as you are.” You wrinkled your nose and Javier grinned.

“I don't think, chica, I know.”

You muttered something under your breath softly and Javier turned back to the road. You reached over and flicked the radio on to a random station and ‘everybody wants to rule the world’ came on. You smiled to yourself and leaned against the window on your side, your feet tapping softly to the beat.

The rest of the ride flew by with you asleep and Javier covering some of your last shifts entertained by your soft snoring and the monotonous chatter of a news broadcasting on the radio. By the time you reached your friend Amanda’s neighbourhood the sun was just peeking out from behind the clouds. Javier had made good time, despite your prior estimates.

“Thanks for the ride.” You yawned, dragging the last of your suitcases onto the curb in front of Amanda’s building. “It was…enlightening.” You said, your hands finding your hips to rest on.

“It was.” Javier said, bordering on a yawn- courtesy of the extra hours he had to drive. He dropped your bag next to your small suitcase. You muttered a small sorry in response which he waved off, covering the yawn with his knuckles.

“Have a safe drive.” You said, finally as he made his way back to the driver’s seat, almost begrudgingly, his legs stiff from the last couple of hours.

“I’ll see you then.” he chopped the air in a small wave with his car keys and ducked into the vehicle.

You watched his car slowly merge with the other ones on the road, “See you.”

~0o0~

A/N: heya, sorry for missing yesterday's update. Although I have an exam tomorrow, I was too excited about this chapter and had to post an update. (all those taking your as/a level examinations I feel you T-T)

Speaking of missing updates, I'm travelling 9th and 10th, so I'll only post when I reach or a few days after. Do stick around, I assure you, I'm not going ANYWHERE. As usual, don't forget to leave a note and check out the other chapters :)) They're on my profile <3

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