It wasn’t until they were seated at an intimate table in the corner of the ramen restaurant that Fabian realized he may have just invited Ryan on a date. Or, at least, what Ryan might perceive to be a date. In truth, Fabian had just wanted ramen and conversation.
And, yes. He liked looking at Ryan.
Ryan, who was studying his menu as if there would be a test on it,wasn’tlooking at Fabian. Even at the coffee shop, Ryan had seemed tired. Or stressed, maybe. Now he seemed like he was already regretting his decision to follow Fabian to a second location.
“Hey,” Fabian said gently, as if Ryan might spook if his voice were too loud. “If you don’t want to eat here, I won’t be offended. It was just a suggestion.”
Ryan finally looked up from his menu. “No! No, it’s fine. I just...what do you usually order here?”
“I always get the Tonkotsu ramen because the broth takes forever to make. Like, I’d never boil bones for hours at home. And it’s delicious.”
Ryan closed his menu. “Okay.”
“But,” Fabian said quickly, “they have lots of stuff. Some of the ramen has beef, or seafood, or some have spicy broth, if you prefer.”
“The first one you said is fine.”
They sat in silence for a moment, and then Ryan started drumming his fingers on the table. He stopped when the server came to take their orders. Fabian ordered first, and then Ryan grunted, “I’ll have the same.”
As soon as the server left, Ryan returned to drumming his fingers. Finally Fabian asked, “Are you all right?”
The drumming stopped, and Ryan moved his hand off the table, into his lap. “Sorry.”
“You seem nervous about something. I hope it isn’t me.”
Ryan grimaced. “No. I have to get on a plane tomorrow. That’s all.”
Fabian was surprised. “Don’t you have to get on a plane, like, every day?”
“Pretty often, yeah. You’d think I might have relaxed about it by now.”
“You’re scared of flying?”
Ryan nodded. “Always have been. I hoped I’d get over it, but...”
“So you fly like a zillion times a year, andevery timeyou’re terrified?”
Ryan nudged his chopstick holder with his finger. “Yep.”
Fabian wanted to reach out and place a hand on Ryan’s arm, or maybe find his hand under the table. He did neither. “God, that sucks.”
“It’s stupid, I know. There’s no reason for me to be...like this. But I can’t help it.”
“Is there anything you can take for it? Or have you tried, like, hypnotism?” Fabian cringed inwardly. He really had no idea what he was talking about.
But Ryan nodded. “I’ve tried just about everything. It’s not only flying. I’m...” He seemed to consider his next words very carefully, but before he could say them their server returned with glasses of water for each of them. By the time the server left, Ryan apparently decided to change the subject. “Why don’t you tell me about your favorite bars here in the Village?”
Fabian was disappointed, but he could be a distraction, if that’s what Ryan needed. He launched into an animated and probably overly detailed description of the types of men Ryan would be likely to meet at each bar.
The conversation continued until their food arrived and beyond. He discovered, as he was telling Ryan about one of the pubs that usually showed hockey on the big screens, he didn’t particularly like the idea of Ryan hooking up with other men. But that was ridiculous.
He soldiered on. “So if you’re looking for older guys, or guys who are kind of more,” he waved his hand in Ryan’s direction, “masc, or whatever, that’s a good place to go.”
Ryan sucked a tangle of noodles into his mouth and then said, “A chill vibe is good. But those guys aren’t really my type.”
Fabian’s eyebrows shot up.
“Not that it even matters,” Ryan said quickly. “I don’t really pick up. At all.”
