25: Hot Mess

Inho was relieved that Stephen agreed to share a dessert, as he was uncomfortably full from dinner. He didn’t want to turn it down out of politeness, and also because it was probably going to be amazing. The meal was something he’d never forget. He’d certainly never be able to afford something like it again.

Stephen ordered the final dish and a round of after-dinner drinks, and Inho cringed inwardly. He knew he was bordering on too drunk, but didn’t know how to say no to Stephen’s handsome face and friendly suggestions.

The lights were lower now since the sun had set, and a waiter had come by to place a lit candle on their table. Soft jazz music had replaced the bird chirping sounds, and the atmosphere was undeniably romantic. Inho found that he didn’t mind how date-like this was getting, and even felt a little silly for how much he had protested about it to Jasmine and the others.

At some point, Stephen had shifted down the curved bench towards Inho. He’d been showing him a photo of something they’d been discussing, and now their knees brushed each other under the table.

When the dessert came, they leaned even closer to examine and taste it. A decadent toffee torte, topped with citrus sorbet and honeyed almonds. It was delicious, but Inho didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, so he savored just a few bites before leaving it to Stephen who obviously did.

He licked sticky caramel off his spoon and watched Stephen finish eating. Then he noticed a spot of powdered sugar on Stephen’s cheek close to his mouth. Inho automatically reached to wipe it away.

Before his hand could touch, Stephen caught his wrist lightly.

“Everything okay Inho?” Stephen asked somewhat sharply, while gently releasing Inho’s wrist. “Maybe you should skip the digestif drink if you’ve had too much.”

At Stephen’s startled face, Inho leaned back in his seat immediately. That was far too intimate of a gesture. What was he thinking; they had just agreed to be friends.

“Sorry, you have some sugar on your face,” Inho said, hyper-aware now of the warmth where their legs were touching under the table. Stephen lifted his napkin and wiped his cheek with quick tidy movements.

“Thank you,” he said. “Let me settle up and I’ll get you home.”

Inho pouted. Stephen was treating him like a drunk now, but he was only buzzed.

The bill arrived at Stephen’s gesture to the waiter, and he placed a black card in the little folio. It was whisked away and back for his signature, and Inho never even saw the total. He decided not to worry about it. He’d get the meal next time.

*******

Stephen winced slightly in guilt at letting Inho become so drunk. Thankfully he didn’t stumble on the way out of the restaurant. He went from cute and bright-eyed to a little too languid and relaxed. He had surprised Stephen by reaching out to touch his face. Maybe things were going better than he thought.

The valet was not immediately ready. Stephen could see his car ready to turn the corner, trapped by pedestrians in the crosswalk. Inho stood beside him, swaying slightly.

“Do you feel okay, Inho? Sorry, I should have stopped you a little earlier.”

“I’m fine.” Inho replied, then softly bumped into his side, “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Stephen looked down at Inho’s face. He wore a soft easy smile, but his eyes were still focused, and his words were still clear. He wasn’t that drunk, Stephen surmised. Not drunk enough to make a mess in the car, anyway.

“It’s cold,” Inho complained suddenly. “I don’t even own a coat. I’ll probably freeze to death in Canadian winter.”

“It doesn’t get that bad here.” Stephen hesitated, then wrapped his arm around Inho’s shoulders. Tensing to pull it away in case Inho rejected his touch.

He didn’t. Inho immediately snuggled into him and rested his ear on Stephens’s shoulder. Stephen froze, shocked. He kept his touch light, as if Inho were a scared animal that might run away at the slightest disturbance. Maybe Inho was drunk enough to puke after all. It was impossible to read him.

The valet pulled up just then and avoided looking at either of them as he handed back Stephen’s keys. Stephen frowned, but tipped him anyway before reluctantly breaking away from Inho. He tucked him into the passenger seat and handed him a bottle of water from his stash in the back.

Once inside the car, Inho perked up and started playing with the satellite radio stations. This was normally one of Stephen’s pet peeves, but Inho looked so pleased when he settled on a station that Stephen let it go.

Inho turned suddenly to Stephen and spoke as if he were continuing a train of thought, “This is really fun. I’ve just been drinking alone lately. It’s depressing as hell.”

“Oh?” Stephen replied cautiously. “Something bothering you? I imagine the breakup wasn’t easy.”

“No, it was awful, she’s awful.” Inho’s face fell, “Or maybe I’m the rotten one, I dunno.”

Stephen felt oddly desperate to bring back Inho’s smile. His forlorn expression made Stephen’s breathing feel shallow.

“I don’t think you’re rotten, Inho. Sometimes you just grow apart in long relationships. It doesn’t mean either of you were bad, just that you weren’t a good fit.”

Inho gazed at him with sparkling eyes, and Stephen made himself look back at the road. A frantic Taylor Swift dance remix came on the radio.

“Anyway, maybe this means you’ll find someone else to be happy with. No point in feeling sad about losing someone that doesn’t even love you, right?”

Stephen was babbling a bit, but Inho didn’t look sad anymore. He just looked thoughtful. They had reached Inho’s street now, and he pulled over, the beam of a street lamp filling the car with a subtle glow.

“You’re right,” Inho said, unbuckling his seatbelt. He leaned over quickly and kissed Stephen’s cheek, as light the raindrops that had just started to fall. “Thanks,”

With that, Inho nearly jumped out of his seat and jogged to his apartment building before Stephen could say goodnight.

Did he just kiss me on the cheek? Seriously? What an actual baby, Stephen thought. But he rubbed his cheek tenderly, smiling as he drove away.