“Yeah, I’m really excited to get my hands on that one when I get back home.” Dane looked away from his phone, but didn’t put any distance back between the two of them. “I’ve tried to get this model two times before this and something went wrong both times, but it looks like it’s actually going to get here this time.”
Aras refused to draw attention to the closeness, even as he felt goosebumps raising on his arms and major activity in the southern hemisphere. Dane had no right to smell sogoodon a random night in a random city during a job. It wasn’t cologne or anything, as far as Aras could tell. Just his natural smell. He couldn’t put a proper name to it. He just smelledgood,and Aras was being treated to as much of that smell as he could reasonably get.
“So, what’s it from? I kind of want to see it.”
At that, Danedidpull back, a smile carving into his face. He brushed his fingers through his hair, positioning his shock of red hair to the right side of his head. “We could totally watch some of it. It’s one of my favorites. Ancient Protectorate of the Holy Garden.”
The title sounded like a bunch of weird bullshit, and nothing about it would have intrigued Aras—it felt like something you could get out of a random fantasy title generator—but Dane was clearly thrilled with the idea. And there wasn’t anything inherently line-crossing about watching some anime together. “We’ll need snacks or something.” Aras checked his phone. “And I have to be at the house by seven in the morning, so I can only do about…four more hours.”
“Plenty of time to get you hooked.” He jumped to his feet—Aras didn’t let himself sink too far into disappointment at the sudden distance—and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Let me go back to my room and wash my face, and you can change into something warmer if you want. Then we can go on a snack trip, and then I can force you to watch my show.” He paused, grinding his lower lip between his teeth. “You’re not just humoring me, right? We were talking about carnival glass and it’s suddenly derailed.”
“By me.” He wanted to tell Dane that he should stay, that he could wash his face in the bathroom. Aras was about ninety-percent sure that he was leaving more to give Aras privacy if he wanted to change clothes, not because the water in his hotel room was so much more cleansing and clarifying.
But he didn’t say anything, even as Dane headed out. They’d be back together before too long. And, if he was going out at night, he probablyshouldput on something a little more insulating.
Chapter twenty-one
Dane
Ittooksometimefor the ride share to show up, and then they had to ask the driver if there was a better place in town for them to get rations—she said no—but they still made it to the grocery store/deli/open market thing that they’d found and back out within forty minutes, with another ride share back to the hotel.
Only once they got upstairs to Aras’s room again did Dane take some time to sort through their collective spoils. “That place really did have everything.”
“You’re telling me.” Aras brought out a container of masoor dal, which Dane could smell even through the lid, along with a gyro, a couple fried chicken wings, and a slice of caramel cake. Dane had opted for a bowl of pork belly ramen, which had somehow made it back to the hotel intact, a slice of veggie pizza, and a couple custard filled pastries that he was dying to break into. Plus, since he was there, he’d grabbed some condoms and lube while Aras was off in another aisle. He didn’t have plans for them, per se, but better to have them on hand just in case.
If we’re eating Indian food and custard and fried chicken, I think we’re safe for the night.
Aras sat on the bed, his food splayed out around him. Dane moved to the chair, but Aras cleared his throat. “It’s a king-sized bed. There’s plenty of room, and you’re not going to see dick on the TV from there.”
If he’s up for it. Dane would have liked to have pointed out that Aras was sending super mixed signals. Instead, he turned around and sighed. “There’s no dick in this show. I can pull that kind of anime up if you want, but I don’t think there are many model kits for those.”
“Just put your pert little ass on the bed and turn on the show.”
The most mixed signals in the world, apparently, but Dane would acquiesce. He sat on the other side of the bed, then pulled out his phone. He set up a quick screen cast to the TV—no issue there, thankfully—then navigated through to the app. He had the show saved in his favorites, so it was just a matter of getting back to the first episode. Once he had it highlighted, he looked over at Aras. “Last chance to get a sudden stomachache and back out.”
Aras popped open his dal, filling the whole room with the smell of warm spices and onions and peppers. “Play the show. I want to see the weird spider mech thing.”
“What if I told you that one doesn’t show up until halfway through?”
Aras chewed on his cheeks, then shrugged. “It’s a long job. If I hate it,thenI’ll fake a stomachache.”
It struck Dane just how much more relaxed Aras seemed around him. More relaxed than around the people he’d worked with for years. Dane had taken the time to watch a couple of their jobs from their VideoHead channel. Aside from, in his opinion, some less than stellar lighting decisions and some tragically outdated haircuts, they were good. They had rapport out the ass. Aras still came off more than a bit grumpy, but they all seemed like they got along on the videos. That didn’t seem to carry over to the present day.
Dane didn’t bring it up. He just started the first episode, and a guitar riff launched into the theme song. It gave way to a bit more classical instrumentation, with flutes and violins and heavy percussion, but that electric guitar ran through the whole thing and kept the energyhigh.
After the first three episodes, they’d both moved onto their sweets. Aras groaned and stretched his arms up high. When he brought them down, his arm brushed against Dane’s shoulder. More than brushed. He rested it there. Classic yawn and stretch maneuver, like he was a nervous teenager at a movie theater. Of course, Dane’s stomach was doing backflips likehewas a nervous teenager at a movie theater whose date had just put an arm around his shoulders, so he had no room to talk. But it was one more weird move on top of a pile of weird moves for someone who steadfastly didn’t want to risk this being a relationship.
That pile had officially gotten too high for Dane to ignore, so he paused the episode and turned. The lights were dim, casting Aras’s hawkish features into even starker shadows than usual. He also had a plastic fork hanging out of his lips when he turned to meet Dane’s eyes, which was entirely too endearing for Dane’s own good.
He slid the fork out, swallowed, then pulled his arm back. “Sorry.”
At least he understood the catalyst. “I’m not mad about it. But I really don’t love the mixed signals. You know where I stand on this, and I thought I knew where you stood on this. But now…I don’t know, maybe I’m nuts, but it seems like you’re flirting with me.” Best to get it out in the open right away. “Are you flirting? And if you are…what’s the story?”
Aras took a couple seconds, then put his fork into the container with the last half of his cake. He set that aside, then sighed. “That’s the million fucking dollar question, isn’t it?”
It was astounding, watching the tension cascade back over Aras. It started with the bunching of his shoulders, then moved to his neck muscles tightening, and then his face scrunching up as he raised his hands and scrubbed up and down. Danealmosttold him not to worry about it. It felt like he’d cracked whatever nice time they’d been having with a couple little questions. But hell, Aras was the one who’d made it weird. Dane wouldn’t let himself feel bad about it, even as his belly tightened and the ramen-pizza combo suddenly wasn’t settling so well.
Eventually, Aras lowered his hands and looked up at the ceiling. “Fuck me, I don’t know what’s going on. We can’t do this, but clearly I can’t keep from being all flirty and shit with you.”
