by Rachel Reid
“What?”
“Just...before we join those two idiots—who I love—I just want to thank you for being here. Sincerely.”
“Oh. No problem. To be honest, I’ve been looking forward to it.”
Ryan held his breath and waited for Fabian’s reply. There was something in Fabian’s eyes—surprise or maybe confusion. But then he smiled and said, “Me too.”
Ryan truly had no idea what this was anymore. It seemed almost like a date, but that would be ridiculous. And impossible. Ryan liked spending time with Fabian, and he loved watching him perform, but someone as beautiful and happy as Fabian had no place in Ryan’s miserable world. And Fabian was showing Ryan kindness by offering himself as a guide to the Toronto scene. It didn’t mean he wanted anything to do with Ryan beyond that.
They brought the drinks back to the table and they had barely sat back down when Vanessa said, “Have you tested that vibrator yet, Fabian?”
Fabian struggled to swallow his wine, then glared at her. “What is wrong with you?”
She spread her hands. “What? Are we shy about vibrators now? Is this a church supper? I need to get a review of that thing on my site.”
“We can talk about this later.”
She turned to Ryan. “Sorry. Are you an adult who is aware of the existence of sex toys?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Fabian, have you used the vibrator?”
He shook his head slowly, eyes narrowed. “You are so inappropriate. No. I haven’t used it, okay?”
“Well, use it! Or find someone to use it on.” She very deliberately tilted her head in Ryan’s direction after she said this. Ryan looked at his beer. Marcus started laughing.
“All right, enough,” Fabian grumbled. “I am going to ask if I can play first, and you two are going to be nice to Ryan.”
Fabian left, and Ryan decided he could try out being cool. “You review sex toys, Vanessa?”
“I do! But sometimes I have to outsource the ones for parts I don’t have. A lot of the guest reviews are anonymous, so if you ever want to—”
“No, I’m not—I mean. I wouldn’t be any good at that.”
She shrugged. “Offer stands. Just let me know. It’s a great way to get free toys.”
“Um. Thanks.”
“Oh my god,” Fabian said when he returned to the table. “Are you still talking about sex toys?”
“It’s okay,” Ryan said quickly. “I asked about her website.”
Fabian looked suspiciously at Vanessa, then he must have decided to drop it. “I’m going on in a minute. Raksha says there’s only three people signed up for tonight.”
The place had filled up a bit since Ryan had first arrived, but it was still a relatively small crowd, the kind where Fabian would be able to see each individual face when he was on the stage. Ryan felt ill just imagining it.
“Good luck!” Vanessa said. “I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been working on.”
Marcus turned to Ryan. “He totally disappeared last week. He does that. He’ll be struck with inspiration and go into hermit mode.”
“I wasn’t a hermit,” Fabian protested. “I worked two shifts at the drugstore, went to see a show, and I even bought groceries.”
Marcus flicked his hand. “Go. Show us the fruits of your labor.”
Fabian made a show of grabbing his violin case and turning dramatically toward the stage. Ryan found it oddly sexy.
Even with the small crowd and the minimal setup, Fabian was a commanding presence when he took the stage. He took a moment to get himself and his instrument ready, plugged his phone into something-or-other, and then he nodded at the barista—Raksha—to kill the music that had been playing through the speakers. There was chatter after the music stopped, followed by a moment of almost perfect silence when Fabian stepped to the mic.
Ryan thought he would greet the crowd or introduce the first song, but instead Fabian just started singing, a cappella. The first note was so strong and clear, it was startling. And maybe that was the point; Fabian obviously knew how to get an audience’s attention.
After a verse and a chorus, a backing track from Fabian’s phone accompanied him, and he started to play his violin. He couldn’t sing and play the violin at the same time, so he would just switch between voice and violin, like a magical conversation he was having with his instrument. Ryan didn’t think his own heart beat even once during the entire song.
“Wow, right?” Vanessa whispered to him when the song was over.
“Yeah,” Ryan said stupidly. Fabian smiled at the crowd and tugged the shoulder of his sweater, which had slid halfway down his arm while he’d been playing, back up. He was so fucking beautiful Ryan couldn’t stand it. As stunning as Fabian had been onstage in the club at the last show, with the wall of sound he’d created and the dramatic costume and lighting, there was something even more enchanting about this moment. The intimacy of the room—the small audience, the warm lighting, and Fabian’s casual attire—made Ryan feel special, like he was one of the chosen few who were permitted to watch a prince perform.
For about the millionth time that week, Ryan remembered the fleeting touch of Fabian’s soft lips on his cheek. It had been so chaste—nothing, really—but it had absolutely consumed Ryan’s thoughts for days. Was it possible for your heart to hold on to a ridiculous crush for thirteen years? And if so, why would his heart choose someone so unattainable? Why would it want someone who was so wildly incompatible with Ryan?
But Fabian, for whatever reason, gave Ryan the impression that he enjoyed his company. He didn’t seem to notice or care that Ryan was starved for the light Fabian radiated effortlessly. He didn’t know that, if he got too close, Ryan would no doubt extinguish that light and drag him down into the shadows with him.
Fabian played four songs and then thanked the audience for listening. The applause was surprisingly enthusiastic for such a small group. A couple of minutes later, Fabian had rejoined the table, violin case in hand.
“Don’t say anything,” he said. “I don’t want to hear a word.”
“Hm?” Marcus said, pretending to be engrossed in his phone. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Did you play yet?”
Fabian rolled his eyes. “Okay, asshole.”
“That was terrible,” Vanessa said. “I can’t believe you made us listen to that.”
“You guys are such fucking dicks.”
He glanced at Ryan, and Ryan knew he should say something, but Fabian’s sweater had slipped again, exposing an entire shoulder. Ryan wanted to sink his teeth into it.
“Speechless,” Fabian said, waving a hand at him. “Ryan is my new favorite.”
“We know,” Marcus muttered.
“That was really—” Ryan started.
Fabian cut him off. “Incredible. I know. Let’s talk about something else. Are you going to come dancing with us on Friday?”
Vanessa lit up. “Oh my god! Yes! You have to!”
“Actually, I can’t.” He looked at Fabian. “Sorry. There’s a team party—a birthday thing. I just found out about it a couple of days ago. Otherwise I would have gone.”
Fabian actually looked disappointed by this. “Oh. Well, that’s too bad. If the party sucks, be sure to drop by the club. We’ll be there until it closes, I suspect.”
“Right. Okay.” Ryan wished he could say no to the party. He didn’t want to go to Dallas Kent’s stupid house. He definitely had no interest in celebrating Kent’s birthday. But he’d promised to be a team player this year, on and off the ice. Skipping the star player’s party would likely be a bad move.
It was probably for the best. Going to a dance club with Fabian and his beautiful friends would be torture. Ryan could envision how the night would go: he would be standing against a wall, trying not to be noticed. He wouldn’t be dancing, and he’d be over
heated and uncomfortable. The music would be too loud. Fabian would be on the dance floor, pressing his lithe body against some other gorgeous man. And then they would start touching, and kissing, and Ryan would be unable to look away.
And then Ryan would go home alone to unsuccessfully jerk off.
Well, fuck that. Ryan could unsuccessfully jerk off just fine without the trouble of watching Fabian seduce another man on a dance floor.
The other open mic performers were both women with guitars, and both were talented with interesting songs and strong voices. But Ryan was getting anxious to leave. If he weren’t worried about being rude, he would have left after Fabian’s set. With each minute that passed, Ryan was increasingly overwhelmed by the feeling that he did not belong here. He wished he could fit in with these sparkling, creative people, but he didn’t. He was a dark cloud, and it was time he drifted away.
“I’m gonna head out,” he said, after the last performer left the stage.
“Oh,” said Fabian. “Are you just going home?”
“Yeah. Thanks for inviting me out, though. It was great to hear you again.”
Without warning, Vanessa clamped a hand on Ryan’s wrist. “Wait. Which way are you walking, Ryan?”
“South.”
“Oh good! Marcus and I are walking north, so you can walk with Fabian. We don’t like him walking alone at night.”
Ryan glanced at Fabian, but he was glaring at Vanessa. “You don’t have to, Ryan,” he said, his eyes not leaving her face.
“No, it’s okay. I can walk with you.”
“Great!” Vanessa said. “Fabian really appreciates it.”
Marcus snorted, and Ryan wasn’t sure what that was about, but for now he could focus on the noble and completely non-sexual task of making sure Fabian got home safely.
Chapter Twelve
Ten minutes later, Fabian was saying his goodbyes to his friends out on the sidewalk. He kissed both of them on the cheek, and Ryan felt a stab of embarrassment over how much that meaningless gesture had affected him last week.
“Shall we?” Fabian asked him, after Vanessa and Marcus had left.
Ryan half expected Fabian to loop arms with him, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “So that wasn’t too terrible, then?”
“God, no. That was awesome. I had, like, goose bumps.” Ryan held his arm out, as if to prove it, before realizing he was wearing a heavy coat. He put his arm down. “Is it weird playing in front of a small audience like that?”
“Not really. I like how intimate it is. It wasn’t so long ago that I was only playing open mics like that.”
“And you miss it?”
Fabian laughed. “No. I worked damn hard to get where I am now. I played open mics while working shitty retail jobs and occasionally playing with a string quartet for hire. Then I started recording my music and getting it online. I was asked to open for a few local artists, which eventually led to my being able to book my own shows. Now I’m on an indie label.” Fabian quickly added, “Just a small one. Medium-sized, if we’re being generous. I’m not making piles of money, but at least the label does a lot of the tedious stuff so I can focus on making music.”
“That’s cool. What’s the next step?”
“Super Bowl halftime, obviously,” Fabian said wryly. Ryan laughed.
They walked in silence for a bit, and Ryan said, “I like your friends.”
Fabian snorted, but Ryan could see that he was smiling. “Vanessa can be a bit much sometimes. She’s pretty unapologetic about, well, everything. When she meets someone new, she tends to come on strong, like she’s testing them. She’s a total sweetheart, really. Like, the best friend you could possibly have, but she isn’t shy about who she is or what she believes in.”
“No, I can see that.”
“So that’s why she started talking about sex toys right out of the gate. I don’t think she would have if you weren’t there. Which I know is kind of fucked, but her thinking is sort of like...” Fabian seemed to search for his next words, so Ryan offered some.
“If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen?”
Fabian smiled. “Right. If you can’t stand her belief that sex is a positive and natural thing, then get out of the group.”
Ryan considered this. “You don’t seem as comfortable talking about it as she is.”
“Oh, I am. I mean, no, no one is as comfortable as she is, but in the right company I have no problem. I appreciate that not everyone is comfortable talking about sex, though, whether or not they enjoy it.”
“Right.”
“I agree with her about it being natural. I think sex is fun. It should be fun anyway.”
Ryan couldn’t honestly remember the last time sex had been fun for him. The rare times over the past few years that he’d actually had sex, it was more or less an act of desperation, especially if it involved another person. Even with the men he’d had relationships with, the sex had always been stressful for Ryan. Performance anxiety, his own body issues, and being completely unsure of what to say, or what his partner wanted from him, had always tripped him up. Jerking off was just easier. Or, at least, it had been, before he’d started taking the meds.
But Ryan had always held on to the belief that sex could be fun, with the right partner. Or if he could ever let go of some of his hang-ups. He liked the general idea of sex a whole lot.
“You’re quiet,” Fabian observed. “Am I being as bad as Vanessa right now?”
“No,” Ryan chuckled. “I just get lost in my own head a lot.”
The night was cold and there was a brisk wind howling up the corridor the buildings made on both sides of the street. There was an ominous weight in the air of impending rain, and Ryan hoped it held off until they were both safely indoors.
“Do you, um...are you...” Ryan silently cursed himself for sounding so stupid, then tried again. “Is there someone that you’re...with? Now?”
Fabian batted his lashes at him. “Ryan Price. Are you asking if I am spoken for?”
“No,” Ryan said quickly. “I’m just curious. You never mentioned anyone, but I wasn’t sure.”
“I am currently unattached.” They walked for a minute in silence, and then Fabian added, “I’ve never been particularly good at finding men who deserve me, as Vanessa likes to say.”
Ryan didn’t like the idea of some bozo who didn’t appreciate Fabian getting to touch him. “No?” he said.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Fabian said wryly, “but I sort of love attention. And I get plenty of it with a healthy dose of adoration from my fans. I realize this makes me sound pompous, but it’s the truth. I’m sure you understand, given who you are.”
“Sort of. I guess.” Ryan wasn’t sure his NHL career had ever actually been the reason a man was attracted to him. His height, and the muscular body hockey had given him, had definitely been factors, but no one he’d ever hooked up with had seemed at all interested in hockey. Ryan hadn’t even bothered to mention his occupation to most of them.
“Right, so it wouldn’t be hard for me to find a man who loved my music and was thrilled to have sex with me.”
“Sure. Easy,” Ryan said dryly.
Fabian nudged him with his shoulder. “Listen. I’m just saying, I could find a nice boy who was already half in love with me just from watching me onstage, but I tend to gravitate toward the men who have almost no interest in me beyond appearances. Men who are usually so into their own creative pursuits that they couldn’t care less about anyone else’s. They just want to fuck me and tell me about their brilliant idea for an art installation, or show me their photography, or complain about publishers not understanding why their book is so great.”
Ryan’s brow furrowed. “Why would you want to be with those guys?”
“I don’t know!” Fabian gave a high, frustrated laugh when he
said it. “Believe me, if I knew I would stop.”
“You should stop.”
“Yes, thank you, Vanessa. What about you?”
Ryan froze for a second, and then scrambled to catch up with Fabian. “What about me what?”
“Do you get a lot of hockey groupies?”
“Uh, no. The kind of guys I’m into...aren’t usually hockey fans.”
They stopped at an intersection, waiting for the walk light, and Fabian turned to look up at him. “And what kind of guys are you into?”
You. Exactly you. “Um.”
“Sorry.” Fabian took a step back, and looked at the sidewalk. “It’s none of my business. I won’t judge you, believe me. I have friends who are into just about everything you can imagine. But you don’t have to answer me.”
“No. It’s okay. I’m not that adventurous. But I like men who are...the opposite of me, basically.”
Fabian seemed to study him a moment, as if trying to calculate what the opposite would be. “So, small guys?”
Ryan shuffled his feet nervously. He’d never talked about his personal tastes out loud to anyone before. Even his past partners. “Usually, yeah. And other stuff.”
The walk light came on, and they crossed the street. When they reached the other side, Fabian picked up right where they’d left off. “Twinks?”
“Not exactly, no. But that’s close, I guess. Age doesn’t matter. It’s not even a body type. It’s more about...how they present themselves.”
“Okay, now I really am intrigued.”
Ryan could not believe he was trying to describe his perfect man to his perfect man. “Okay. This is it: I like men who sort of look at what men are supposed to be and say ‘fuck you.’ I like men who have the confidence to be themselves, even if it means a lot of people are gonna look at them funny.”
For an agonizingly long time, there was no reply. Ryan was sure he’d just spouted a bunch of nonsense at Fabian, and Fabian was now wondering why he’d allowed such a weirdo to walk him home. It wasn’t until they had approached Fabian’s street that he said, in a voice so quiet Ryan almost didn’t hear him over the wind, “I love that.”