A little jiggling of shopping bags and Rex had his front door open. Bowie’s first impression had been cold. Sterile. Everything being white with black accents made it… there wasn’t one word that fit, and Bowie preferred to be in his own apartment. He never said this because that was mean. As far as Bowie could see, when he’d had the chance to look in other rooms, there was no color anywhere. And he reminded himself that everyone had differing tastes. This was how Rex liked his place, so it wasn’t wrong.
“Make yourself at home.”
That was impossible when he couldn’t relax, even after the few months they’d been dating. Except he kept that thought to himself. They hadn’t ventured beyond either of their apartments.
Don’t you think that it’s weird?
Why?
When folks date, they go out in public together. He doesn’t like that. I have to question why that is when you don’t see there’s nothing nice about the way he treats you.
He’s going to make us lunch. That’s nice.
He watched Rex place his shopping on the kitchen counter that separated the open plan room much the same as Bowie’s. Only Bowie’s was cluttered with gadgets for baking and jars full of things he liked, like cookies.
Rex pulled out the contents in an orderly fashion, nothing like Bowie. He laid everything on the counter, flashing Bowie a smile. “What would you like?”
“Cheese,” Bowie replied and got a frown in response. He could see the fresh packet. Did Rex have something else in mind?
Before he could suggest Rex pick, he nodded curtly. “Right, cheese it is.”
Was cheese the wrong answer?
The longer he stood waiting for Rex to tell him where to sit, Bowie grew more nervous, his gaze roaming the room searching for something to talk about. “Don’t you like color?”
Shit. Why did I ask that?Back was the urge to slap his forehead. He got the urge a lot around Rex. “Sorry, that sounded rude,” he added quickly, thinking he should give up now and leave before Rex asked him to.
It would not be the first time that had happened.
Rex’s laughter sounded forced. “It was. But what can I say, I like clean lines and uncluttered space.” He nodded towards the uncombable kitchen stools. “Sit here at the counter.”
It wasn’t a question, and Bowie was good at doing as he was told, sitting and folding his shaky hands together in his lap, unsure how his excitement at seeing Rex had tanked so badly.
What is wrong with me?
It's not you!
“Would you prefer wholemeal bread or white?”
He made it through the questions saying nothing wrong, and by the time he’d eaten the sandwich, Bowie was high fiving himself for not letting anything silly spill out of his mouth.
Rex was settled across the counter from him when he brought the subject around to Bowie’s work. They’d talked about what Bowie did, in depth, the first time Rex invited him into his apartment when he’d discovered who Bowie worked for. “You’ve not been around much of late, is work keeping you busy?”
“The increased workload for the brothers has us all doing extra hours. I was glad it was Saturday, to be honest.” He got to sleep in at the weekend and snuggle with his teddy bears. Although he’d never say that aloud. Rex hadn’t asked to seein his bedroom, but Bowie hid his bear collection in the closet whenever Rex came around.
“Impressive work ethic,” Rex murmured, smiling in a way that made Bowie squirm a little on his seat at the praise. “Are there any major ad campaigns you’re working on?”
Rex’s interest in his work made his smile widen. He supposed that, with him owning an advertising company, he had a good understanding of what Bowie did. Which meant Bowie had no problem talking about this, because he felt comfortable in the shared interest. He chatted about up-and-coming projects with confidence.
A degree in market management with a specialist interest in fashion—some folks didn’t get it when Bowie loved the fashion side of marketing but had zero fashion sense. It didn’t matter, Bowie loved pretty things, and a lot of fashion was pretty and sparkly. Although he never said that aloud to Rex when he didn’t like anything other than black and white.
“What about you? How are things going with the projects you talked about last week? Did you get the new contract you were after?”
It’s a very competitive business. Cutthroat even, from what Bowie was learning from the conversations he had recently with prospective clients looking for new companies to take on their ad campaigns.
Rex sat back looking relaxed even in the smart button-down and tie he wore on a Saturday, which, now that Bowie thought about it, was a bit much for a trip to the market to buy food.
He waved a hand in the air. “Work is work. It’s challenging and gets the juices flowing.”
