A minute later they were standing together on the step at the front of Fabian’s apartment building as he struggled with the key. It was in an ancient two-story building that used to be an orphanage or a children’s hospital or something. Either way, it was, as Vanessa had put it, for sure haunted.
“This stupid fucking lock,” he grumbled, jiggling the key until it finally turned. They were greeted by the familiar cocktail of smells that Fabian now recognized as home: musty walls, garlic-heavy vegan cooking, and weed. There was a wooden staircase with worn carpet directly in front of them, leading to the three apartments on the second floor. On the ground floor, there was a door to each side of the staircase, and Fabian directed Ryan to the door on the left.
“This is me,” he said, turning the key in a lock that was only slightly less stubborn than the one outside. “Get ready to be dazzled by opulence.”
Ryan followed him into the tiny studio apartment. Fabian set the gear he’d been carrying against one bright red wall, and gestured for Ryan to do the same. “Thank you again. That really was very nice of you.”
“No problem.” Ryan carefully placed the keyboard and backpack on the floor with a quiet grunt.
“How’s your back?”
“Good as ever.” He looked enormous in the confines of Fabian’s apartment. He also looked extremely uncomfortable and out of place. Fabian waited for him to say something, but instead Ryan just stared at his hands, flexing them and rubbing his knuckles.
“Oh my god!” Fabian exclaimed. Without thinking, he took Ryan’s left hand in his own. “What happened?” There was dark bruising on the knuckles, and Fabian ran his fingers delicately over them, back and forth. “I can’t believe you carried all that stuff when your hand is busted up! Does it hurt? It must hurt.”
“Uh,” Ryan said quietly. Fabian glanced up and saw that Ryan was staring at Fabian’s fingers.
Fabian dropped his hand and stepped back. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. They don’t hurt too much.” Ryan shoved his bruised hand in the pocket of his wool coat and looked at the floor. Quite a lot of hair had escaped from the bun he’d tied it back in, and the loose tendrils were hanging around his face. It was a good look.
“So that’s normal for you? Bashed-up hands?”
Ryan shrugged. “Pretty normal, yeah.”
Fabian remembered noticing similar bruising on teenage Ryan’s hands. He was pretty sure Ryan had tried to hide it from him then too.
“Well,” Ryan said. “I should probably get going.” He said it at the same moment that Fabian said, “Can I offer you a drink?”
“What?” Ryan said.
“I have most of a bottle of wine in the fridge.” Fabian pulled his own scarf off and draped it over a chair that already had several scarves on it. “Or tea, if you prefer. I might have one of those grapefruit sparking waters left...”
“I—no. That’s okay. I’m pretty tired after the game. I should go.”
“If you’re sure.” Fabian ducked his head and slipped the necklaces off, laying them over the scarf. He wondered what Ryan would do if he removed his shirt next.
“I’m sure. But...it was nice. Seeing you again.”
Fabian stepped closer to him. He smelledgood. “Likewise.”
Fabian wasn’t sure what his plan was here. He didn’t want Ryan to leave, but he also had no idea why he wanted him to stay. If he and Ryan had never met before tonight; if Ryan had just been a big, strong, attractive stranger who had offered to walk Fabian home, Fabian would be tearing his clothes off right now. But Ryan wasn’t a stranger, and while part of Fabian really liked the idea of tearing his clothes off, he just...couldn’t.
Not even when Ryan was gazing down at him in a way that took Fabian right back to that night on a ferry all those years ago. To that moment where he’d thought for a wild second that Ryan was going to kiss him. Fabian could kiss himnow. He could go up on his tiptoes and brush his lips against Ryan’s. It didn’t even need to be a big deal. It would be a simple thank-you kiss, the kind Fabian gave his friends all the time.
But instead, Fabian said, “We should do this again sometime.”
Ryan blinked and jerked back a bit. “What?”
“I mean, we should hang out. Get coffee. You know. Catch up some more.”
Ryan’s brow furrowed, but then he nodded. “I’d like that. Can I get your number?” They traded phones and entered their numbers. “I haven’t really explored the neighborhood too much.”
“Well, let me be your guide.” Fabian’s tone had gone silky again. Much too flirtatious.
Ryan froze, and Fabian mentally kicked himself. Ryan was not the kind of guy you were casually flirtatious with. When they’d been teenagers, Ryan had gotten so easily flustered whenever Fabian had attempted to tease him. It didn’t seem like that had changed.
It was still inconveniently charming.
