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It still feels strange to have his food served to him outside of a restaurant. Lukas thanks his staff and asks them to bring a carafe of water in about ten minutes, and coffee after their meal. Anders blanches at the thought of coffee so late, but he resigns himself to a sleepless night. Coffee means talking, and talking means his patience is about to be tested.
“It looks great,” Anders says. “Smells great.”
“This isn’t my usual chef,” he says this like it’s an apology. “They’re… fine. It’s certainly passable, but there are inconsistencies.”
“I’m sure it’s great,” Anders assures him. He takes a bite to emphasize this, and declares it to be… fine. He’s endured far worse, many of them happening to coincide with father’s day and some whole-hearted attempts from his boys.
“I’d make it myself,” he says, and Anders nods, “I’ve just been busy.”
“I’m here to see you,” he says, “not eat like a prince.” Lukas snorts, and he takes his own bite, and frowns down at the plate. “You should have Lars cook for you and see if you still complain about your chef.”
“Next time your family visits I will.”
“Make sure you have ginger ale.” They both chuckle at that, and focus their efforts on their food.
“So,” Lukas starts, and Anders braces himself, “your kids are good?”
“Yeah, all good,” he says, keeping his answers short.
“And Nina?”
“All good,” he says with a smile. “And work is good.”
“That’s,” he pauses, “good. And the flight?”
“Lukas,” Anders sighs. He hums, looking up from his food. "I appreciate that you're asking, but I can tell you're stuck on something. We can skip this part. You can jump to whatever you want to talk about."
Lukas looks away, and takes a drink of his water. Anders doesn’t press, he takes his own drink and lets Lukas collect his thoughts. "I met someone."
"Oh," he says, surprised but delighted. "That's good. Someone you're dating, or you want to date?"
"I don't know yet."
"Okay." Lukas is quiet for an awkward length of time. He keeps looking up at Anders, and chewing thoughtfully, distractedly, definitely over masticating his bite of an admittedly soft pasta. "You want to ask me something?"
"I don't know what to ask."
"That's okay," he says. “How about I ask you some things? See if it gives you a little clarity.”
Lukas nods, and he sits back in his chair. “Go ahead.”
“How’d you meet?”
“Company secret,” he says, and Anders nods. “I’m buying his father’s company.”
Anders blinks, and he sits back a bit, hands on his elbows while he ponders things.
“You can ask,” Lukas says.
“How old is he?”
Lukas blinks. “He’s, he’s in his mid thirties. He’s on the exec level.”
“Ah,” Anders nods. “So you’ve been talking with him.”
Lukas nods. “Twice.”
“Tw-okay,” Anders covers his mouth with his hand. “Okay.”
“I felt a connection,” he insists, and Anders nods, still keeping his hand in place.
“Tell me about the first meeting.”
“His brother was trying to push for their company to buy mine,” he says. “I was at his fortieth birthday party,” he says, eyes rolling back into his head. “Then his brother, Roman, found me and we started talking.”
“So, more casual?” Anders asks. (“No, it was for business.”) “Oh.”
“But we talked about more,” he says. “I, well,” Lukas stops himself for a bit, and then continues, “I asked about his father’s health,” Anders nods, “and expressed my preference that it… fail, soon,” and then he stops.
“Lukas.”
“His father is a piece of shit,” he says.
“Okay,” Anders closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You’re saying that like you’re talking about his dentist. Shithead or not, that’s his father. What if he said that about dad?”
“Our dad isn’t a shithead.”
“That’s not the point I’m trying to make,” Anders sighs. “He can acknowledge his father is shitty and still feel conflicted about his passing.”
“... Right.” He rubs a hand across his face. “Right. Yeah, okay.”
“What else happened that night?”
“We talked about his company’s app. We roasted it, actually.” He smirks. “It’s shittier than his dad.” Anders hums, and Lukas collects himself. He coughs. “Then he suggested we take a literal piss on the app, so we went to the bathroom and I pissed on his phone.”
Anders doesn’t say anything right away. He doesn’t know how to properly convey the sense of dread he feels knowing there are two of them out in the world, and somehow they’ve found themselves in the same social circle. Lukas ducks his head a bit to get Anders to meet his eyes, and he shakes his head to clear away the thought.
“So,” he starts, and then he doesn’t know how to continue.
“Afterwards, we exchanged numbers. His phone still worked. It’s a well rated model.”
“You have to know that isn’t what I’m struggling with,” Anders pleads.
“And the next morning I learned he followed me on Twitter.”
“A lot of people follow you on Twitter,” Anders points out. “I’ve seen your numbers.”
“ And we exchanged phone numbers,” he repeats.
“So,” he leans forward, and rests his elbows on the table, “somehow this night ended in a net positive.”
“I think so.”
Anders blinks a few times, and sighs. “What about the second meeting?”
“He came here to ask about a Tweet I made after I finished a deal, and why my stock started going up.”
“So, less personal,” Anders clarifies, and Lukas shakes his head. “How?”
“I gave him a tour,” he says. “I may have been,” he shrugs, “off, I guess. Less enthusiastic. It’s a nice place, I’m just,” he sighs. “Sometimes I still feel,” he grunts with frustration, at the unnamable, strange feeling Anders knows he struggles with. “I talked about, about the things that peak my interest in people. About weaknesses and success and how I’m still fucking bored and,” he looks at Anders, really looks at him, but he never knows how to answer Lukas when he gets like this. He listens, and he makes a few suggestions, but he knows there’s no easy fix. “It was playful. He seemed receptive. I didn’t mention his father dying the second time.”
“That’s good,” Anders insists. “Is that everything?”
Lukas shrugs. “More or less.”
“Okay,” he says, and he stretches his arms above his head until his back pops into place. “Lukas, what am I supposed to do with this?”
“Help me?”
“How? How do I?” He stops, and he closes his eyes. “You’re going to need to make your intentions clear.”
“To you or him?”
“Start with me,” he says.
“I’d like to… pursue this,” he hazards. “It really would be easier if his father was dead. He’s a close-minded piece of shit.”
“I’m going to remind you that you shouldn’t bring that up around his son if you want to date him.”
“I’ll consider it,” he says.
“Please do more than consider it,” Anders practically begs him. “You’re sure he’s even interested?”
“I’m reasonably certain,” Lukas says, and to his credit he does sound confident. “It was a joke he made. Something that I,” he trails off. “We’re similar,” he finally says.
“What’s his name?”
“Roman Roy.”
“Okay,” Anders says, and he takes out his phone long enough to tap out a quick google search, and he saves the tab for later. “Well, honestly I don’t know what the fuck I should tell you. If he didn’t run after you talked about his father then,” he shrugs, “what do I know?”
“You have nothing?”
“Don’t let it fizzle,” he says. “I know last time I told you don’t scare them away, but if you told me the truth then,” he shrugs, “what scares that away? I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”
Lukas smiles then, “you think?”
“You took a piss on his phone,” Anders deadpans, “because he suggested it to you. Please tell me what part of any of this sounds average to you.”
Lukas tips his head to the side. “Hearing it out loud is -”
“It’s outside the norm,” Anders offers.
“Yeah,” Lukas agrees. “I think in my favor?”
“I’m not saying this to be mean,” he prefaces, “but if this man is not made for you I don’t think anyone is.” Lukas nods, and to his credit, he doesn’t seem to have taken it personally. “You’re my older brother. I want you to be happy. If this is what works then make yourself happy.”
“I’ll let you know how things go.”
“Yes you will,” Anders insists, and he looks up just as a staff member brings them some coffee, “because I already can’t imagine how you’ll one-up him telling you to piss on your phone, but I know you will, somehow.”