Marcus stood up slowly from his desk chair. He smoothed down the front of his jacket with his hand, even though it didn't really need it. His mind was no longer on the stack of documents he'd left behind on his desk.
Instead, he was thinking about yesterday.
About the café.
About Ryan.
He could still picture it so clearly in his mind.
Ryan walking into the café wearing that soft cyan blue shirt that made his skin look warmer and brought out something gentle in his eyes. He'd paired it with black pants that made him look taller.
Ryan had moved with a quiet kind of confidence, the type that made him stand out without seeming like he was trying.
Marcus had carefully planned their "accidental" meeting to look perfectly natural, like pure chance.
He'd expected it to go the way these things always went for him. A few words exchanged, a few smiles shared. And by the end of the night, someone would end up in his bed.
Marcus knew that pattern well. He rarely had to put in much effort. People usually came to him on their own.
But the moment Ryan had looked up at him, with those long lashes sweeping over glassy eyes, Marcus had completely forgotten his usual approach.
Something had struck him….not just Ryan's beauty, though that was certainly there. It was the unusual mix of softness and quiet strength in the young man's face.
Pretty, yes. But also undeniably masculine.
Marcus wasn't supposed to feel caught off guard like that. He was supposed to lean in, take control of the pace, and let the other person do the chasing.
Instead, Ryan had thrown him completely off balance. Ryan hadn't tried to flirt with him or impress him at all. When Ryan suggested they share the cake, Marcus thought it might be the start of a seduction.
But no…Ryan just seemed to want someone to talk to. About cake. About food. About small, simple things.
And Marcus had found himself actually listening.
Really, truly listening.
He could still hear Ryan's voice in his head from yesterday's conversation. It had been warm and open, moving easily between laughter and the comfortable rhythm of stories being shared.
Marcus's heart beat faster just thinking about seeing him again. He walked quickly out of the company building, heading toward the café. Today, he planned to drop hints. To let Ryan know what he actually wanted from him.
Marcus arrived at the café first. The small space smelled faintly of vanilla and roasted coffee beans. The quiet background hum of conversation was perfect for what he hoped would become their regular meeting place.
He reserved the same cake from yesterday, then claimed a corner seat by the window.
Now he sat and waited, his watch ticking softly on his wrist.
A few minutes passed. Then the glass door swung open and Ryan stepped inside. Sunlight poured in around him, making him almost glow.
Ryan looked around the café, scanning. Then his eyes found Marcus. A boyish smile spread across Ryan's face, warm and completely open, with no guard up at all.
Marcus's gaze locked onto him immediately. He found himself staring longer than he meant to.
The checkered shirt Ryan wore today made him look both sharp and relaxed at the same time. The loose-fitting jeans softened his appearance, giving him an easy, natural charm that seemed effortless.
Marcus's mouth curved into a small smile. He kept it subtle and controlled.
But his eyes gave him away, they softened like just seeing Ryan had eased some tension he'd been carrying.
He sat up straighter in his chair. Not because he was being formal, but because he wanted to match the energy that had just walked into the room.
"Hey," Ryan said as he reached the table. He slid into the seat across from Marcus. "You're early."
"I didn't want to risk missing you," Marcus replied.
A faint grin played on his lips. His eyes stayed on Ryan just a second longer than what would be considered casual. "Besides, the company is worth waiting for..."
Ryan let out a soft laugh. He shook his head slightly. He clearly wasn't used to being complimented so directly and openly. "You make it sound like I'm some kind of celebrity."
"Maybe you are." Marcus's smile grew smoother as he raised his hand to signal the waiter.
"The cake we talked about please. One cup of cortado and one cup of mocha…"
When the waiter brought their order, Marcus gently pushed the plates toward Ryan.
"I thought we could share again. Make it a tradition, maybe?"
Ryan picked up his fork. His eyes lit up with genuine excitement. "So it's a tradition now? Not that I'm complaining though." He paused, looking down at the cake. "This looks great."
He leaned forward and took the first bite. The joy on his face was so clear that Marcus paused and just watched him for a moment.
"So you work at a restaurant?" Marcus asked. He leaned forward slightly, keeping his voice light and casual. "I bet you must look good in an apron."
Ryan blinked. Then a laugh burst out of him. He shook his head.
"That's... a strange compliment. I'll take it, I guess. But I just serve tables. Nothing fancy."
"Still," Marcus said. His voice dropped lower, taking on a teasing tone. "If I were your customer, I'd keep ordering things just to make you keep coming back to my table."
Ryan rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth lifted upward. He shook his head, clearly finding Marcus amusing. But the faint pink color that appeared on his cheeks gave him away.
"You're ridiculous." He paused, then added more quietly, "It's nice though... having someone to talk to. Most people at work just... keep their distance."
Marcus's eyebrows drew together slightly. "Scared of you?"
Ryan shrugged. He stabbed his fork into the cake. "Maybe...!" Then he seemed to realize how odd that sounded. He quickly tried to correct himself. "I mean... maybe I just don't fit in with them."
"You're so fun to be with though," Marcus said. "They're really missing out."
A small smile appeared on Ryan's face, and it looked almost surprised.
His eyes dropped down to the table for a moment, like he wasn't quite sure how to accept the compliment. Then he looked back up, and his gaze was softer now. More vulnerable. "Thanks... You're probably the first friend I've had in a long while..."
Friend...
The word landed between them and sat there, heavy. But Marcus decided to let it go. For now, at least.
By the time their plates were nearly empty, Marcus leaned back in his chair. "How about we try a different café tomorrow? Or maybe I could stop by the restaurant where you work. You know, change of scenery?"
Ryan shook his head quickly. "Tomorrow's my day off. I won't be free."
Marcus's lips curved into a small smile. One that suggested he had something in mind. "Another time then."
They both stood up from the table and walked toward the exit together. Once they were outside, Marcus stopped walking. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He held it out toward Ryan.
"Number," he said. Just one word. His tone made it clear this wasn't really a request, it was something that was going to happen.
Ryan blinked in surprise. Then he laughed. "You're really direct, aren't you?" There was something about the way Marcus had asked, so confident and certain that made something flutter in Ryan's chest.
He took the phone and typed in his number, then handed it back. "There. Don't blame me if you regret it when I text you too much."
"Impossible," Marcus said firmly. He slipped his phone back into his pocket.
His eyes stayed on Ryan for a long moment. His lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something else.
But then he seemed to decide against it. Instead, he stepped to the side, gesturing for Ryan to go first.
Marcus watched Ryan turn to leave. He noticed the way the sunlight caught in Ryan's hair. The way his shoulders relaxed now that the initial nervousness of their meeting had passed. The easy way he moved, like he was finally comfortable in his own skin around Marcus.
As Ryan walked away, Marcus stayed rooted to his spot for a few extra seconds. He was already thinking about when he would text. What he would say. How he would slowly, carefully, begin to show Ryan what he really wanted this to become.
Because "friend" was a good place to start.
But Marcus had no intention of leaving it there.