Rick didn’t even look up as he handed his card over. “You can, but I want to pay tonight.”
Allen stared. “Why?”
“Because I asked you out.”
Allen watched him for a second, trying to work out if it was just habit or something else. They’d been out for three meals now, and Rick had paid every time. “Alright, but next time I’ll pay.”
Rick looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Okay.”
Outside, Allen shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and stood by the curb while Rick unlocked his car. Rick glanced over and asked, “Do you want to come back to my place?”
Allen’s pulse jumped when Rick asked things like that. “Yeah,” he said.
Rick glanced over. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
As Rick drove them back to his apartment, Allen asked, “Is your place far?”
“No.” Rick glanced at him then looked back at the road. “It’s only ten minutes from here.”
Rick turned into a building with secured parking and drove down into the garage. He parked, turned the engine off, and sat there for a few seconds with his hands still on the wheel.
When Rick finally looked over, he gave Allen a small smile. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Allen said. “Are you?”
Rick chuckled softly, then nodded. “Come on. Let’s go up.”
The first thing Allen noticed about Rick’s apartment was that it was clean and quiet. It looked expensive because of the building and the view, but there was nothing flashy about it. The living room had a dark leather couch and a large TV on one wall.
Rick tossed his keys into a bowl by the door and shrugged off his coat. Allen took his shoes off and hung his jacket. He looked around again. “It’s nice.”
“It’s fine,” Rick said.
“It’s nice,” Allen repeated, because it was, and because Rick had a habit of brushing things off.
Rick kissed Allen’s cheek. “Okay. It’s nice. I guess I don’t see it that way. It’s home.” He went into the kitchen, grabbed two bottles of water, and handed one over to Allen, who took it and sat on the couch.
Rick stood for a moment with his water in his hand, looking out of the window, then he sat beside Allen. Close enough to share the space, but not quite touching him.
Allen turned slightly toward him. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Rick rolled the bottle between his palms once. “It’s music stuff.”
Allen nodded. “Okay.”
Rick looked at him like he expected a reaction, but Allen didn’t give him one.
“Do you want to talk about it,” Allen asked, “or do you want to leave it alone tonight?”
Rick’s shoulders eased a little. “Let’s leave it for tonight.”
“Alright,” Allen said.
Rick kept watching him. “You’re good at that.”
“At what?”
