TimeLabs Inc (Romantic Sci-fi - LGBTQ)

Fiddler's Green - The Date

The Previous Evening 

Cal walked up the gangway of the R.S. Alee, feeling self conscious in his suit and tie. He was supposed to be meeting Gary for a celebratory dinner on this iconic ship and restaurant on the river. Cal had never been there before, but Gary had made the booking wanting to go somewhere memorable for once.  

He and Gary were flatmates and business partners and they had just sold their newest game, "Crime Fighter," to a big distributor. This was just the beginning of the way up, said Gary, and they needed to celebrate in style. Cal entered the dining room and looked around. Every table appeared to be occupied and even the seats at the bar were all taken by people in their office clothes, having a drink before heading home after work. 

Gary had made the booking, so where was he? There was only one table with a single occupant - Cal took a second look at the man sitting there. He had short black hair, strong features and an Italian suit if he wasn't mistaken - but he wasn't Gary. 

While he was searching the room with his eyes, a waiter approached on noiseless feet. "This way, sir," he said, escorting Cal to a small table, right next to the man Cal had been studying. He looked up as they approached, but then dropped his gaze as he realised Cal was not the person he was waiting for. 

Cal sat down and ordered a bottle of champagne while he waited, then took out his phone to check for messages. He smiled wryly as he realised the smartly dressed man seated at the next table was doing the same thing. Their eyes met and both smiled faintly in acknowledgement.  

Cal looked down at his phone. Damn! There was a message from Gary. "Sorry, migraine. Order champers on me, c u l8tr." 

Cal scowled, pursing his lips. Devil take Gary and his wretched migraines. How on earth was Cal supposed to sit here by himself and drink a bottle of champagne without looking like a complete loser?  

He glanced across at the next table. His neighbour was frowning at his phone too. Before he was even conscious of making a decision, Cal found the invitation issuing from his mouth. "I don't suppose you'd consider joining me? My business partner and I were supposed to be celebrating, but he can't make it. And I've already ordered the champagne." He smiled deprecatingly at the handsome stranger who was looking rather taken aback by the invitation. 

"No strings, I promise," added Cal. "Just dinner and conversation." Before he could answer, the waiter approached with the bottle of champagne.  

"Shall I open this, sir?" he asked. 

"Why not?" said Cal. He'd have at least one glass before he left, after all, Gary was paying for it. He watched as the waiter poured the sparkling wine into his glass, half waiting for the man at the other table to take the opportunity to leave quietly while Cal was occupied.  

The waiter placed the bottle in an ice bucket and departed. 

As Cal had expected, the other man stood up, but then - to Cal's surprise - pulled out the chair opposite and sat down. He looked into Cal's eyes and smiled. "Thank you, I'll take you up on that. I was supposed to be celebrating too, but my brother says he is still tied up at work and can't make it." 

"Ah. Cal Harris." Cal reached out to shake the other man's hand across the table.  

"Rob Martin." Their hands lingered a fraction longer than normal. Cal found his heart beating a little faster. Had he imagined that flash of heat? He hadn't been intending to pick anyone up that evening, but ...  

"So what do you do, Rob?" asked Cal, innocuously enough, as the waiter returned to clear the other table and fill up Rob's glass with champagne 

"I'm a civil servant," Rob Martin replied after a brief pause. "And you?" 

"IT, computer programming, video games - you name it. In fact that's what I was supposed to be celebrating, we just sold one of our games to a distributor."  

"Really? What's it called?"  

By the time their food arrived, they were chatting comfortably, as if they had known each other for weeks instead of minutes.  

When Cal came back to the table after a brief restroom visit, he caught Rob watching him as he wove between the tables. He was almost certain Rob was checking him out. When he sat down, Cal allowed his knees to brush against the other man's, then waited, prepared to laugh it off if necessary. Either he had just made a big mistake or he might be about to get very lucky. Rob was just the sort of man he fancied, strong and masculine.  

Rob didn't flinch away.  

"Shall we get the bill?" asked Cal. 

Outside the restaurant, both men halted on the footpath. Rob was silent, suddenly looking a little hesitant as if things had moved faster than he expected. 

"Tell me if I'm wrong," said Cal, leaning in close. "But would you like to invite me back to your place?" 

"I don't normally pick up men in bars," Rob blurted. 

"No?" Cal smiled at the anxious look on Rob's face as it dawned on him that he might have been offensive. "Where do you pick them up from, then?" he teased. 

"I don't ... it's been a long time," Rob said, awkwardly. 

Cal moved even closer. "If you wanted to turn me on even more, it's working. Come on, let's go to your place and I'll show you what you've been missing. No strings, I promise - unless you want them," he smiled. "Or we could go to a hotel?" Cal added, realising he had no idea where Rob lived. He just knew he didn't want to take him back to his own shabby flat. 

Rob was silent, chewing his bottom lip. "Or we can shake hands and go our separate ways," said Cal, stepping back. 

"No!" Rob protested quickly. He cleared his throat. "Come home with me. Please."

(to be continued ...)