He glances at his watch impatiently. It’s half past seven and his date was supposed to be here half an hour ago.
Brian grunts as the waiter refills his water glass. ‘I’m an attractive man, and I don’t deserve this,’ he muses. Impartially speaking, Brian could be considered moderately attractive. Born and raised in New York, the dedicated blogger/barista of Puerto Rican descent has a pretty face, well-coifed curls, and to quote him directly, ‘I even jog twice a week!’ He considers his best feature to be his bright smile that shows off his dimples.
However, there is no smile on his face at the moment. He’s currently alternating between scowling at his watch and at his phone. What kind of asshole stands someone up like this? No text message, no call, no smoke signals, nothing. ‘Well,’ Brian thinks to himself, ‘I don’t think he actually has my number…’
Brian hadn’t gotten laid in almost a year, which is the only reason he agreed to this blind date. His co-worker Fátima had mentioned that her old roommate had just moved out to New York from San Francisco, was smart, funny, hot, and the most important part, available. She definitely didn’t mention the distinct lack of punctuality––
“Excuse me, are you Brian?”
Brian looks up at the man talking to him and smiles brightly. God yes, he was definitely worth waiting for. Light brown hair tousled just so, slight scruff brushing his cheeks, amazing hazel eyes, and, if the way that sweater hugged his torso was anything to judge by, a body to die for.
“Yes! I’m Brian! And you must be…”
“I’m Oscar. Fátima has told me so much about you,” Oscar smiles as he sits down.
“Ah, I think she’s kept you more of a surprise from me,” Brian jokes, setting down the menu and resting his chin on his hands. “So, would you mind telling me a little about yourself?”
The bearded man blushes and starts: “Well, I just moved here from San Francisco, and I just got hired as a web designer at this company that designs button-ups for animals––”
“Wait, seriously? Button-ups for animals?” Brian chokes back a guffaw when he sees the serious look on Oscar’s face. “I mean, I’m sure the animals appreciate the attention?”
“––and I do photography and play basketball in my spare time,“ Oscar continues, looking miffed at the ridicule. “And you? Fátima didn’t tell me everything about you.”
“Well, I’m a barista at this little coffee shop on the East Side, but what I’m really passionate about is my blogging. I run a blog dedicated to men’s neckwear,” Brian grins as he picks up his water glass to take a sip. “Hopefully I won’t be stuck working at the coffee shop too much longer. I really hate coffee.”
Oscar wrinkles his nose and frowns, “I’m not really a fan of neckwear. It seems kind of pointless nowadays.”
Brian coughs into his hand and starts fiddling with his silverware. “Well, I gue––”
“Hi, my name is Adam and I’ll be your server this evening,” the waiter drones out. Brian sighs and rolls his eyes. Of course the waiter would decide to take their order now, just when the conversation is on a weird note.
“I’ll have the vegan risotto, with a side of your fried egg-plant dumplings. Oh! And a glass of pinot grigio,” Oscar orders with a smile, glancing at the menu before settling back in his chair.
Brian pretends to look through the menu again, although he had decided on his meal a good twenty minutes ago while he was waiting for Oscar, “I’ll have the duck confit––”
“Actually, would you mind not ordering duck? It makes me very uncomfortable.”
Brian grits his teeth into a pained smile. Of COURSE Oscar would be one of THOSE vegetarians. He did just move out from San Francisco. Ugh, the things he does for attractive men.
“Of course I don’t mind.” He turns back to the waiter and hisses, “I’ll have a caesar salad. Dressing on the side. And a beer. Bring me a beer.”
“I’m sorry for making you change your order, but I have a confession to make.”
Brian looks up blearily from his salad to fix his eyes on the attractive yet incredibly awkward man in front of him. In his attempt to liven his evening up, he’s on his third beer, and unfortunately, only half-way through his salad.
“Well, what is it?”
Oscar fidgets nervously with his fork on his empty plate before continuing, “I–– I’m not exactly who I said I am.”
Brian rolls his eyes at the mysterious air that his date seemed to be affecting. “Really? Please, tell me more.”
“I’m––I’m not exactly… human. I’m a lycanthrope.”
“OH MY GOD! Are you a werewolf?” Suddenly, visions of a hot, sweaty, shirtless (and possibly fuzzy) Oscar dance around in his head, and he’s almost enamored with the man in front of him again. The beer was definitely helping his perception of this rude, awkward, and apparently inhuman asshole. Maybe this date wasn’t a complete bust––
“Close. I’m a wereduck.”
“Is that even a thing?”
“So that’s why you didn’t want me ordering the duck. You didn’t want me eating you.”
“Not that I’d mind putting you in my mouth.”
“Wow, that was an awkward train of thought.”
Oscar smiles at Brian’s wide-eyed slack-jawed stare and pats his hand, “I don’t put out on the first date.”
Brian manages to close his mouth before frowning at Oscar’s answer and asking, “Well, can I see you next week?”
“It’s a bad time… full moon, you see.”
Brian sets his elbow on the table and rubs his forehead. If Oscar wasn’t as attractive as he is, he would have left the table as soon as he said ‘wereduck.‘ Or even before, because another thing that Fátima didn’t mention about Oscar was his distinct lack of manners or sense…
With a sigh, Brian finally asks, “…fine, how about the week after.”
Oscar beams cheerfully and chirps, “Sure, I’d love to.”
Brian smiles so widely, his cheeks hurt. ‘Why am I like this?’