Chapter Five

Assad's cooking was good. So good that Adam's plan of eating over once was discarded after the fifth time he found himself sitting on the sofa of the taller man's apartment at least four times a week from that point onwards.

It was the middle of a Saturday afternoon, and Adam was at Assad's place again, waiting for the man to finish putting a dish together.

Adam had come to associate Assad's apartment with the smell of spices and the low hum of music. Assad often cooked and spoke to him from the kitchenette that shared a space with the living room that had a sofa and a few armchairs, as well as a bookcase, record stand, and a game setup sitting next to a standing television. Compared to Assad's apartment, Adam's crib was a desert.

"Hey, do you mind garlic in rice?" Assad asked, making Adam look up from the sketchpad in his hands. The first time he had come over, sitting around and just looking at Assad had made him uncomfortable, so now he brought over things to keep him busy.

Adam shrugged. "I don't think I really know what ingredient is supposed to taste like what, as long as it tastes alright," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Assad nodded, turning before opening the fridge. "What about what you'd like to drink?"

"Anything, I don't mind," Adam said, even sparing Assad a smile. He didn't have a deadline until later next month, so Adam was a bit more cheerful than usual.

The apartment became quiet again, and Adam went on to revise his sketches as Assad continued to move about the kitchenette. Sometimes his eyes will drift over to the pictures hanging on the wall. There were a few of Assad with his friends, and somewhere he was with equally dark-skinned people??some of the women were wearing hijabs.

"Is your family Muslim?" The words left Adam's mouth before he could stop himself. He turned, calming down when he noticed that Assad didn't seem phased in the slightest.

"Yeah, they are," Assad muttered, taking the pot off the stove before heading to run his hands under the running water. "Sufi Muslims," he clarified.

"Oh," Adam let out before looking back at the picture. He didn't know what a "Sufi Muslim" was but he told himself that he had already asked too many questions today.

"Here we go..." Adam looked over to the kitchenette at Assad's words to find the younger man setting down two plates of food on the small kitchen island. He took a seat, before looking over at Adam and tapping the one beside him. "Come on."

Adam dropped his sketchpad before wandering over to the island and joining Assad. At first, they both ate in silence, poking at bits of lamb and vegetables laying next to the pile of rice and sauce on their plates, but soon Assad began to hum and sigh, and Adam got annoyed enough to give the grinning late teen a lot.

"Oh, you're actually looking at me, I thought you were only here for the food," he teased, making Adam blink before looking away. His face grew warm, and his mouth felt numb. He didn't know what to say in response to that, so he just stuffed his mouth with rice.

"Ah, now you've looked away," Assad whined, reaching out to touch Adam's hand a bit before letting it go almost as fast. He must have sensed Adam's tenseness. "You're always so quiet. I thought it was because we didn't know each other, but it's been... what? Five months now?" the younger man said, counting his fingers.

Adam looked away. "We still don't know each other," he said in a matter of fact tone, and the younger man sighed, nodding his head.

"That's true."

They ate together, and that was about it. Assad had never been to Adam's place, and Adam shut down conversations before they could even start.

"Hey," Assad said, making Adam raise a brow at the now grinning man. "Let's get to know each other??play a question game," he said, making Adam frown before looking away.

"I'll pass," he said, and Assad sighed, resting his head on the space he had created on the kitchen island.

"Come on, just humor me," the man said, looking at Adam with his soft brown eyes. "Please?"

Adam wanted to say no, but his conscience pricked him. Assad made him food. Assad was the reason why he didn't feel sick twenty-four-seven or didn't feel like throwing up after eating unhealthy food. The least he could do, aside from saying thank you, was to humor him some time.

Adam sighed, closing his eyes after swallowing a spoonful of food. "Alright." He heard Assad's stool skirt on the floor. He opened his eyes, only to find that the man had moved to stand at the other end of the kitchen island.

"You go first, ask me a question," the man said. He had his dreadlocks in a ponytail, and it was one of the few times Adam got to see the man's rigid face shape.

Adam licked his lips, wondering if there was anything he wanted to ask. "I??" he started, but paused, watching Assad's excited look. He could go ahead and ask a dumb question, like what his favorite color was, or what types of paints did he like to use, but he had only had one question he had repressed brewing in his mind for so long, and he wondered if it wasn't rude to ask. Assad was the one who started it... right?

"You're taking your sweet time." Assad laughed, and Adam blinked, looking away when he realized he had been staring into space for a while.

"I was wondering..." Adam trailed, still unable to ask his question.

"You were wondering...?" Assad repeated back to him, trying to encourage him to finish his thought.

Adam sighed, looking up at the lightbulb above them. "I was wondering if you were gay??no, into men," he asked before he could stop himself. His eyes flickered back to meet Assad. The younger man looked stunned. His lower jaw was hanging a bit. He blinked, before staring down at the kitchen island's surface.

"That's one hell of a question."

"You did say I could ask you anything," Adam pointed out, watching the younger man let out a defeated laugh.

"Yes, yes I did," Assad said before humming. "I am," he added. "into men, that is."

"Oh." Adam blinked. He had been expecting that, but it still shocked him for some reason.

Assad raised a brow. "Is that surprising?"

Adam shook his head, before frowning. "Yes, and no."

"I'm not Muslim, I was just born into a Muslim family if it's the name that's confusing you," Assad muttered, making Adam rub the back of his neck. Yeah, that has been his hang up. Religious and gay never really meshed well in his head, but there were thousands of non-religious Mathews and Johns, so it didn't make sense to assume everyone with an Arabic sounding name was Muslim as well.

"Sorry," Adam blurted out, not even sure if Assad understood what he was sorry about.

"It's alright I get that a lot," he said, smiling a bit. "Still not going to change my name though," he added humming to himself. "I like it."

"Change your name?" Adam said out loud. His mind hadn't even gone there.

"A lot of immigrants give their kids English names, so yeah," Assad explained and Adam just nodded before digging into the food he had abandoned for the chat.

"Can I ask you a question?" Assad asked, and Adam looked up before nodding.

"Are?you?gay?"

Adam felt the blood in his face rush to his cheeks. He couldn't even say it was an unfair question. He had asked Assad the same, so it was fair to assume he had made himself open to the same question.

"Yeah." Adam decided to be as blunt as possible.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No." Adam poked at a piece of goat meat.

"Are you looking for one?"

Adam tightened his jaw, starting to feel that Assad was crossing the line. "I am not interested in dating." He answered him, anyway, hoping that it was the last question.

"Alright." Adam raised a brow at the waiver in Assad's voice. The younger man sounded almost... disappointed?

A bit of time passed, and Assad hummed, making Adam look over at him. The younger man was now resting his head on his hands as he stared at him.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"You've asked me a lot of questions already," Adam said, feeling a bit standoffish. He wondered what in the world was going on in Assad's head.

"I know," Assad muttered with a smile. "I was wondering if you would like to come over and watch a show sometime next week." Adam sat up, preparing to say no.

Assad kept talking, not giving Adam room to decline. "My friends were going to be around all day, so there'll be lots of food leftover, so you can have some when you leave??"

"Okay." As the words left Adam's mouth, he felt a bit silly. He was being bribed with food of all things, but God it was good food, and he wasn't sure how he would go back to take out and badly made sandwiches in the foreseeable future.

"Great!" Assad said. "I'll stop by your place..." he trailed, frowning a bit. "Or I could text you. We don't have each other's numbers yet."

Adam wanted to say no. He really did, but Assad was quick to grab his phone, and Adam watched as the younger man typed in his number into his screen.

"I'll save it and then I'll call myself to get your number," Assad explained.

"Here," Assad muttered with a grin as he passed Adam back his phone. "I saved it under Assad, of course??with a smiley." He laughed at his own dumb joke, and Adam just stared at the man. He was chatty, and he didn't seem to mind talking to himself when Adam was quiet. Adam just stared on, not sure why he was allowing barge right into his life.

"Yeah, thanks," Adam mumbled, pocketing his phone. It wasn't relevant where Assad had come from or why he seemed to want to get close to Adam, but one fact was certain, he was here now, and making himself cozy, so Adam decided he would just get used to it.