He could still turn back. If he didn’t show up, Ruan would surely be disappointed—he might even decide to no longer work for him, gold piece or no. Maybe if he left now, he would be rid of the human once and for all—rid of the curse that had plagued him the moment that he set eyes on him, now almost two years ago.
He considered it, then stepped up to the door and knocked.
It took only a moment for Ruan to open the door, as if he had been sitting and waiting for Adrissu to arrive.
“Hello, Adrissu,” he said, a wide grin spreading across his face as he leaned in the doorway. The human seemed irritatingly aware of how his smile dazzled him. Adrissu pressed his lips together in a frown, heat rising in his face. Ruan’s clean, fresh outfit did not help either: rather than the plain work clothes Adrissu had typically seen him in, now he was wearing a tailored black shirt with loose sleeves and a low collar barely laced closed, tucked into form-fitting breeches. The human knew exactly what he did to him, Adrissu thought with no small amount of irritation.
“Hello,” he replied stiffly, pushing past Ruan without waiting to be invited in.
The man’s home didn’t look especially lived-in: the walkway was mostly bare and opened into a large sitting room with a table, two plush chairs, and a small kitchen off to the side of it. Hung on one wall was a weapons rack where Ruan’s armor was displayed alongside his swords; other than that, his home seemed unadorned. The room was warm, and the smell of food wafted from the kitchen.
“I hope you like chicken,” Ruan laughed, stepping past him to check the oven. “I can’t cook much, but I can roast a chicken.”
“I do,” Adrissu said, pulling his arms out from his sleeves. He had considered bringing Vesper with him, but she had been unwilling to get into his sleeve when he was leaving, so in a huff he had left her behind. Instead, he pulled a bottle of wine from his sleeve. “I brought this, as well.”
“Ah, lovely,” Ruan said, waggling his eyebrows. “Needed some liquid courage to get through the evening, eh?”
Adrissu started to scowl again, but this time his lips twitched upward into a tiny smile. Quickly, he hid it behind one hand before Ruan could see him laugh.
“I need to not be sober to deal with you one-on-one,” he muttered, but Ruan only laughed, as he pulled two goblets from a small rack hanging in the kitchen. The wine bottle came uncorked with apop, and Ruan poured him a generous amount, before handing the goblet over to him and pouring some for himself.
“To the newest member of the Polimnos council,” Ruan said, smiling warmly at him and taking a drink.
“Indeed,” Adrissu said hoarsely, lifting the goblet to his lips.
“Food will be ready soon,” Ruan said, glancing back at the oven. “I tried to time it just right, but well, what can you do?”
“It’s fine,” Adrissu said stiffly, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. He took a deep drink of his wine before glancing back over at Ruan: heat crept up his neck and face when he saw that the human was simply standing and looking at him with a soft smile.
He had been so consumed with hiding his desire for Ruan that—for all the human’s teasing and joking—it had never quite occurred to him that Ruan mightactuallybe attracted to him. The thought struck him now, seeing the soft affection in Ruan’s gaze. Why? For all that he had tried to push the stubborn human away, why did Ruan still vye for his attention? Why had he agreed to any of this?
He had become weak, he thought as he took another nervous sip. One moment of weakness, in hiring Ruan so he could see him every day, had grown into more and more moments of weakness that had led to this: to Adrissu sitting alone in Ruan’s home, only the premise of wine and food keeping them apart.
He would not,couldnot, be the one to approach Ruan. Whatever resolve he still had left in him, he would not be the first to break.
“Here we are,” Ruan said, breaking him from his thoughts. He pulled a roasting tray from the wood-burning oven, setting it on the stone countertop. A perfectly roasted chicken surrounded by root vegetables—turnips and carrots from the smell of it. “Come, sit at the table, Adrissu.”
Ruan served him a plate first, and in another moment, they were eating quietly across from each other. Adrissu mechanically cut a piece, placed it in his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and repeated the cycle without letting his eyes stray from his plate. He only risked a glance over at Ruan once, catching his warm brown eyes lingering on him, and did not look in his direction again until his plate was cleared.
“Well, what’s the verdict?” Ruan asked when he was done. Adrissu blinked. He had barely tasted any of it.
“It’s good,” he said simply. The wine had warmed his belly, but hadn’t dulled the edge of his nerves.
“I’m glad,” Ruan said, grinning across the table at him. “Are you still hungry? I can get you more.”
Adrissu shook his head and allowed Ruan to take his plate, watching as he set it in the wash basin. From there he reached into a small icebox, revealing a bowl filled with fruits—cherries, blackberries, grapes, and figs.
“Come, join me for dessert,” Ruan said cheerfully, stepping past him back into the sitting room to settle in one of the armchairs.
Silently, Adrissu followed, carefully arranging his robe around him to avoid wrinkling it or accidently sitting on one of his sleeves. Ruan watched him, making him flush under the scrutiny.
“Help yourself,” Ruan said, offering the bowl to Adrissu as he took a handful of cherries for himself. Adrissu carefully took a bunch of grapes—trying not to watch too closely as Ruan tossed a few cherries in his mouth and chewed indulgently for a moment, before lifting his now-empty goblet to his lips and spitting out the pits.
“I tried to get ahold of a sweetcake to go with the fruit,” he continued, leaning back in his chair. “But the bakery was sold out by the time I got there. This is still good, though, don’t you think?”
Adrissu nodded absently. A smear of red cherry juice was still on Ruan’s bottom lip.
“You haven’t even eaten any,” Ruan said, gesturing to the bunch of grapes in Adrissu’s hand. “Here.”
