Once Farzan left the table, David was able to redirect the conversation to his dad and Deb, and luckily for David, once you got Christopher Curtis telling a story, you could sit back and relax.
And David needed to sit back, because his heart was hammering in his chest. His cold chest, because he couldn’t stop hearing how Farzan had answered no when asked if they were boyfriends.
Why did it make him feel cold? Theyweren’tboyfriends. Yeah, David had panicked and said yes, because he didn’t exactly want to talk about being fuck buddies in front of his dad, and he didn’t think Farzan wanted to in front of his mom, either. Talking about queer relationships, or situationships even, was always awkward with straight people, even ones who loved you unconditionally, as David’s dad did.
Still, it had been nice, cozying up in the booth. For a second, David could imagine they were on a double date. Arealdate. His cheek tingled where Farzan had kissed him before getting up.
But he couldn’t think about that now. He needed his wits about him. He’d polished off his glass of wine and switched to water—he never drank more than one glass if he was driving, even though, after all theseyears, he could probably tolerate more before getting anywhere near drunk. Better safe than sorry, always.
So instead, he stuffed his face with the amazing food in front of him. As good as Farzan’s stew had been, these kabobs… holy fuck. He wondered if he could weasel the recipe out of Farzan, if Brayan could make anything even remotely similar, because wow. His mouth was watering in overdrive. Savory, umami, just the right amount of spice, a little sweetness from the sumac Deb had him sprinkle on top. He’d never even tasted sumac before, at least not that he could remember. All he knew about it was that there was a poisonous version you were supposed to avoid, like poison ivy and poison oak, even though he was pretty sure there was no poison sumac in Missouri.
Come to think of it, he’d only ever seen poison ivy, though thankfully he’d never actually gotten any on himself.
David ate way too much, in between bouts of laughter (usually courtesy of Deb at his dad’s expense), stories about Deb’s daughters (both recent college grads, looking for jobs, and godspeed to them), and questions about his upcoming test.
“I think it’s amazing you’re pursuing your dream,” Deb said. “Not too many people are brave enough to do that.”
David shrugged. “I don’t know if it was bravery or desperation. If I’d stayed at my old job I would’ve been a soulless, miserable husk by now.”
“Mm. You raised your son right,” Deb said, resting a hand on Christopher’s arm.
“Me and his mom certainly did our best, but still, I don’t know how he turned out so great.”
David’s chest warmed, but his father frowned.
“What are you going to do about this job offer, though? If your boyfriend already owns this place. It can’t be that easy for him to come with you.”
“Ah.” There it was: the hole in their little fiction.
The angry moon, hovering ominously in the sky, waiting to crash down on them.
If only there really was an ocarina song that could sort out his and Farzan’s problems.
“We haven’t figured that out yet,” David finally said.
He had, of course: David was going to LA, and Farzan was staying here. This opportunity was too good to pass up. He’d miss fucking Farzan—miss hanging out with him, too, honestly—but there were plenty of queer men in LA. He’d have plenty of options. Even if the thought made his throat squeeze.
He’d gotten lucky with Farzan, a good friend and a good fuck.
Luck like that didn’t come around twice.
“Ah, don’t be sad,” Deb said. “If you love each other, you’ll work it out. I know you will. Now, who wants dessert?”
David did his best, but he didn’t manage to grab the check before his dad. He did, however, see that Farzan had given them a steep discount.
As Christopher helped Deb with her coat, David collected the huge container of leftovers and tried not to groan at the pressure in his stomach. He hadn’t really had room for dessert, but the rosewater sorbet had sounded too good to pass up. He’d have to ask Farzan how he made it.
As they made for the door, Farzan’s mother said, “Wait! I’ll go get him so you can say goodbye.”
“Oh, you don’t…” David started, but she was already gone, her pumps clopping on the floor. It couldn’t have been more than a minute before she dragged Farzan back with her. He had a towel over his shoulder and his sleeves rolled up, and David remembered tracing the cords of his forearms with his thumbs as they curled up on the couch.
“So nice meeting you,” Farzan’s mom said, pulling David in to air kiss him on both cheeks.
“You too.” She had the same eyes as her son, brown and rich and heavy-lidded. Bedroom eyes.
If David wasn’t so stuffed, he might’ve suggested he and Farzan go for a quickie somewhere, even in his car in a dark corner of the parking lotlike horny teenagers, but he honestly couldn’t contemplate sex right now. All he wanted to do was roll into his bed and pass out.
Farzan walked them out, hunching his shoulders up against the drizzle that had started falling. David offered his arm to Deb and helped her back into his dad’s car.
