“Oh, yeah.” Farzan wished he had some nice, crunchy noon-e barbari to dunk in his ash, but bread took way too long to make on short notice.
David wrapped a blanket around himself and took one end of the couch, leaning away from Farzan and blowing on his soup to cool it with every spoonful. Farzan took the opposite side.
“So what’s up?”
David looked so cozy and cute, Farzan couldn’t stand it. He wanted to lean across, take the bowl out of David’s hands, and smother him in kisses. But David was sick, so he had to settle for looking.
“Did you see that nail salon next to Shiraz Bistro when you came? It was probably closed.”
“Yeah?”
“So, the owners—the Trans—are retiring and moving to Colorado. And I kind of want to buy their side of the building. Expand the restaurant. We could have an event space, and more tables obviously, a bigger kitchen…”
David’s eyebrows raised. “That’s not a bad idea, necessarily, but…”
“But?” Farzan’s shoulders fell. He kind of wanted David to tell him it was a brilliant idea and he should plow forward with it.
“This business is weird. Financing can be hard to find. But if your fundamentals are good… good cash flow, decent covers per night, and a bit of liquidity… you know, the right numbers to show to a bank. I assume you’d be financing this?”
“I don’t even know…” Farzan sighed. “I still rent my apartment. I’ve never bought any real estate before.”
Farzan stared into his soup, afraid to look up and see derision in David’s eyes. David clearly had his shit together. He probably understood what the fuck escrow was. Farzan had had it explained to him, several times, by both his siblings and much more patiently by Ramin, but it never really stuck.
But David simply said, “We all start somewhere,” and launched into explaining the things Farzan needed to pull together before talking to the bank. He paused regularly—to eat more soup, and to give Farzan time to take notes on his phone—but he never once sounded annoyed, even when Farzan interrupted to ask questions.
David took him seriously.
Farzan barely took himself seriously some days. But David didn’t seem to doubt Farzan could pull this all off. That of course the bank would say yes. That the restaurant would succeed.
Farzan hadn’t even told Ramin and Arya about his plans for expansion yet. Or maybehopeswas a better word. Farzan wasn’t sure why he’d asked David first.
Except David was his boyfriend.
David believed in him.
And he’d never admitted how badly he needed that.
By the time David finished, both their soups had gone cold, and David’s voice sounded even scratchier.
“Hey. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wear you out,” Farzan said, standing to get David a fresh bowl.
“You didn’t,” David said. His eyebrows danced. “I wouldn’t mind it if you did, though.”
Farzan rolled his eyes, but he smiled. “No sex until you’re feeling better.”
David puffed out his lower lip. As far as pouts went, it was hilarious and ineffective and so adorable, Farzan wanted to kiss it right off his face. But David was still sick.
Farzan came back with fresh soup and a glass of water.
“Thanks.” David took the soup and snuggled deeper into his blankets.
“Thank you,” Farzan said. “I can clean up and head out.”
“Wait,” David said. “You want to watch a movie or something?”
“You don’t mind?”
“Nah. When I was a kid, me and my mom would always watch the Muppets.”
