It was even later than he'd predicted by the time Riley finally pushed open the door to his apartment. He'd missed the first bus connection and his route home from Dash's had worsened from there. Not that he’d had anywhere else to go tonight, but after so long away from home it would have been nice to pick up some groceries. 

But then, a store meant encountering people, and Riley was fully peopled out for the day. A frozen meal wouldn’t expect a conversation.

He’d just unwrapped something that purported to be lasagna when his phone rang. Growling, he dug the device from his pocket, determined to tell Dash, Taysha or whoever else might have discovered his number that they could fuck off. And then he'd shut the damn thing off.

Instead, it was his brother’s name flashing across the screen. He hesitated, still holding the icy lump of pasta. He really wasn’t in the mood to chat, but he didn’t think he was allowed to use that excuse with Reid anymore. 

“Hey,” he said, answering the call.

“Hey!” Reid replied, infusing more brightness into one syllable than should have been possible. “Are you free to talk now? I was trying to wait because I didn’t know when you got out of work, but then I got distracted and... Sorry, I should've just texted first.”

“It’s fine, I just got home,” Riley said, tossing the lasagna back into the freezer; it would taste just as bad later.

“Wow, really? Long day,” Reid whistled.

“No, I… met up with someone, after work.”

“Oh, right. Your friends must be excited that you’re back."

Riley didn't know how to classify Dash, but friend certainly wasn't it. Excitable, at least, did apply. 

Riley wandered into the living room, collapsing onto his couch. It wasn’t nearly long enough for someone of his height to lie flat, but it was comfortable. He'd kind of missed it, while he'd been away. 

“It’s a little weird, you being gone now," Reid continued. "Rose set a place for you at dinner the other night, and it took us all a beat to remember you wouldn’t be coming.” 

Reid’s laugh was nervous, like he wasn’t sure whether or not Riley would appreciate the anecdote. Riley wasn’t sure how to feel about it, either.

“How is Rose?” he asked.  

“She’s better... good, actually,” Reid said. “Like her old self, according to Harper. They're out right now, having date night. I can tell her you say hi, if you want?”

“Uh, sure. I guess.”

“Cool. I know she’ll be glad to hear from you. She misses you. I mean, we all liked having you here. Harper keeps telling me your eggs are so much better than mine. Seriously, what's your secret?”

Riley snorted in spite of himself; there was no way Harper Clarke missed Riley but, given the way he could shovel down food, Harper missing his cooking was plausible. 

“Nothing special. Crack the eggs into the leftover bacon grease, salt and pepper and that’s it.”

“I’m supposed to use the bacon grease?” Reid asked, sounding shocked. Riley shook his head at his little brother.

“That’s how Dad does it.” The words slipped out before Riley could overthink them, a symptom of how tired he was.

“Dad? He cooks?” Reid asked.

Though they’d been raised together, their six year age gap, among other things, had resulted in Riley and Reid having very different childhoods. It had always been easy for Riley to spot the ways in which his younger brother’s experience had been better; he hadn't considered that he had some memories his brother did not.

“He did, before he went back to work.” Reid couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 at that time.  

“It is so hard to picture him in a kitchen. But that’s cool, that he taught you to cook. I had no idea.”

“Just a few things,” Riley said. “It’s not like you missed much.”

Reid paused for just a moment longer than normal; Riley had said that so his brother wouldn’t feel uncomfortable, but he wasn't entirely sure what would or wouldn't make Reid uncomfortable. This whole getting to know each other again thing was hard. 

Fortunately, when Reid did speak he sounded completely normal.

“Well, now I can at least make breakfast Harper won’t tease me about. Hopefully. So, thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

“So, um,” Reid began before an awkward silence could develop between them. “How was your first day back at work?”

“Fine,” Riley said, even though he didn't think that was the right word for it. “Normal.” That definitely wasn’t.

“That’s good… And you had plans after? Hot date?”

Without meaning to, Riley snorted into the phone. “No,” he said. “Definitely not a date. Just a… friend of a friend, needed some help.”

***

Reid and Riley managed a few more minutes of conversation before the inevitable silences grew too long and they agreed to talk again next week. That was the deal they'd struck at the end of the summer, checking in with each other weekly, at least to start, and communicating what was going on in their lives. 

It felt awkward, at least to Riley; why should Reid even care what was going on in the very small scope of Riley's universe? But it seemed that he did care, and so Riley was trying. It was worth it, to try. 

He popped the lasagna in the microwave at last, letting the conversation replay in his head as the frozen meal began to spin. He felt a little guilty about not explaining his night further to his brother, but he still wasn't sure how to explain meeting Dash to himself. The idea that it could have been a date did make him laugh.

If he was being honest, if he’d met Dash in any other context, it was entirely possible that Riley would have found him attractive. He was cute, and Riley had always found tattoos alluring. He'd never given much thought to facial piercings, but he had to admit his eyes had been drawn to the metal hoop in Dash’s full lower lip more than once.

But that was where the possibilities ended; Dash was high energy and a talker which, from experience, never meshed well with Riley’s pace. Dash had already gotten frustrated with him several times, and vice versa, and they’d spoken for less than an hour. 

Riley shook his head as the microwave dinged, trying to rattle the thoughts away. He wasn't going to be telling Reid about any dates, hot or otherwise, for a long time. He'd learned, with painful clarity, that everyone was better off if Riley stayed single.