While researching Rowe for the interview, he’d seen pictures. He knew that the man was handsome, he’d known before he turned up to meet him, but those photographs were nothing because in person he was [i]hot.[/i] It was typical for Brendon that the first person he’d been genuinely attracted too in a while was someone he had to meet in a professional setting- though that didn’t stop him daydreaming a little, watching his mouth too much when he answered questions and lingering with the handshake because his grip was strong and calloused and his fingers were long and- yeah, you get the picture. Ryan was just his type, tall and dark, with beautiful eyes and a gorgeous voice. So, when, at the end of the interview after the recording had stopped, Ryan lingered behind and approached him to ask him out on a [i]date[/i], Brendon was very surprised. Flattered. After a few hesitant moments wondering whether this would compromise the interview somehow and he’d get in trouble, he figured to tell with it, he was freelance anyway and Brendon hadn’t been on a date in a while.

Besides. If all else failed, he’d get a nice dinner, at least. He mulled over his outfit choice for a little longer than he would have liked but settled on something that stood out but wasn’t too out there, for fear of weirding Ryan out with his sometimes extravagant sense of style. Being late didn’t bother him and when he walked in and Ryan immediately stood up, he grinned lazily, meeting his date in the middle between the door and the table and letting himself be drawn into a hug. Just like with the handshake, it lingered just a little too long for it to be a quick first-date hug. Ryan smelled amazing, and he was warm and his chest felt comfortable to be held against. Jesus, it really had been a while since Brendon last had a crush or felt even the faintest butterflies and if things went the way they were, he’d be on the phone to his friends like a teenager when he got home tonight, gushing about the dreamy hockey player who had taken him out on a date in a lovely restaurant. Fuck, he was getting carried away, it was just a hug.

Pull yourself together, Brendon, he told himself, pulling back from the embrace and following Ryan to the table, smiling in thanks when he pulled his chair out for him and then sitting down, shifting til he was comfortable. It felt, for a bizarre moment as he started at Ryan from across the table, like the beginning of another interview, and he felt the need to introduce himself- but luckily, Ryan was talking before he could embarrass himself by implying that Ryan didn’t even remember the name of the man he’d asked out on a date the day before. Then, Brendon was complimenting him and commenting on that visible scar, withholding the juvenile admission that he thought it made him look hot. It did, though. [i]It’s an accessory.[/i] He laughed. [b]”I have a scar, too, on my eyebrow.”[/b] He raised the eyebrow in question. [b]”Not as cool a story behind it, though. Smacked my head on the curb when I was a kid.”[/b]

[i]I didn’t know whether you drank. Split a bottle?[/i] How considerate- or maybe this kid just liked his alcohol. Brendon smirked back, his voice teasing and gentle. [b]”Hell yeah, might help us out a little.”[/b] And suddenly they were talking about the interview and Brendon felt like he was at work but didn’t mind, because he understood it must’ve been a big deal for Ryan as his first proper interview, and because that was the one thing he knew that they had in common so far. He didn’t intend to flatter him but apparently honesty was enough to do that as Brendon just relayed what he thought Ryan already knew- everyone, save maybe rival teams, loved him as a player. He was pretty and charming and rough around the edges and that was certainly doing it for Brendon. [i]Well. I knew that part, I'm always right.[/i] Cocky, but in a sweet, endearing sort of way, that Brendon couldn’t really take serious because he had been at that interview and Ryan almost stammered a few times. At first he thought it was inexperience but after Ryan asked him out, he realised he must have been a factor affecting his nerves, too.

[i]A little shell-shocked. First in the draft... I’m good, I didn’t know I was that... y’know.[/i] That was almost a textbook answer to an interview question but Brendon could tell he really was just surprised. Not too above the Earth, then, it seemed, still disbelieving of his great achievements. Brendon felt a foreign fondness and hoped suddenly that his success continued into greater things. [b]”You should be proud of yourself.”[/b] A pause. [b]”I mean, I’m sure you are,”[/b] Brendon laughed, the corners of his eyes screwing up a little. [i]It's crazy - but I'm great, too, obviously.[/i] [b]”Obviously.”[/b] [i]You were my first interview. First one well thought out, and everything. Do you always do that much studying, or is it just this particular story? I wasn't expecting that.[/i]

Brendon waited as smiled at the server as they topped up his glass and he immediately picked it up when they moved on, taking his first sip just as Ryan was finishing his first glass. Slow down, he wanted to joke, but they weren’t there yet, so he decided against it. [b]”I always do that much,”[/b] He explained, placing his glass back down. [b]”I don’t just turn up and think up questions on the spot, y’know. Although- if turning up to interviews and getting dates with handsome men like yourself was a daily thing, I think I’d be a happier man.”[/b]