“They’re great bikes. They’re easy to handle for beginners like me,” I replied and then used my chopsticks to swirl my udon noodles into my mouth.
“Yeah, I love beginners,” Sire said, smiling right at me as my mouth was halfway filled with noodles.
“Yeah,” I replied slowly, continuing to slurp my noodles and think about his weird phrasing.
“So, do you like it more when it’s easy to handle or when it’s a little more than you can manage?” Sire asked me after a few seconds of silence, the choice of pronouns ambiguous and purposeful.
“Me? I just got my motorcycle license. I don’t know if I could handle anything bigger than what I got right now,” I replied, a sliver of uncertainty in my voice.
“Oh. You just started out? Well, it’s still important to let yourself try something bigger sometimes,” he said. He smiled easily and then slurped down some of his noodles.
“Oh, how big is the engine on your bike? Is it easy to ride?” I asked, deciding to play innuendo right back.
“Well, most young guys who ride my bike get overwhelmed at first, but pretty soon they start to like it,” he responded and then smiled wryly.
“Oh okay. A lot of young guys ride your bike?” I retorted, chortling in response to his barely concealed innuendo.
“Quite a few, actually,” he rejoined.
“Wow. Does this work for you? Just instantly start hitting on guys half your age?” I asked. I placed my chopsticks across my udon bowel and then rested my head in one of my palms, waiting his answer. I stared into his eyes.
“Sometimes. Depends on the guy. And how much they like riding,” he retorted, and then took another slurp of noodles. It took a very confident guy to slurp a lot of noodles in such a way that it displayed confidence. But Sire pulled it off.
“Okay, wow. You’re aggressive,” I said, picking my chopsticks off my bowel and breaking eye contact with him.
“Too much? I’m definitely not trying to turn you off,” Sire said slowly, a hint of contrition seeping into his voice.
“No. It’s okay. You’ve totally got the handsome biker daddy thing going on really good. I get it,” I said, one of my hands swirling in a vortex in front of me in his general direction.
“Get what?” he asked, his head tilting slightly, his easy smile returning to his lips.
“Why young guys would be into you,” I clarified.
He chortled, amused at my observation.
“There. I said it. Just wanted you to know,” I added, holding both of my hands up in a surrender pose, one chopsticks in each hand.
“I’m glad you think I’m handsome,” Sire stated.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked, putting my chopsticks back on top of my bowl and then taking up my water cup, holding it up to my cheek.
“Yeah,” Sire said.
“How old are you? That’s got to be a big part of it,” I asked.
“46. You’re probably not wrong about me being about twice your age, Kay. Is that something you like?” Sire asked and then took a sip of his own water, his eyes boring into mine as he awaited my response.
“Yeah. I’m 23. That’s what does it. Sexy biker daddy vibes like crazy,” I said. What the hell was I saying? Why did I just call him sexy? Other than the obvious reason that he was pretty sexy.
He stared into my eyes for a few moments.
I smiled. I put my water cup down on the table.
The silence was strangely comfortable.
“And you? You’re quite handsome too. Girlfriend or wife waiting for you in Hokkaido?” Sire inquired.
“Oh no. My girlfriend is in Osaka. But she hates that I ride bikes. She would never come on a trip like this,” I responded.
Sire nodded to indicate he was listening.
“But to be honest, half of the fun of these motorcycle trips is getting away from my girlfriend,” I added.
“Oh I get that. I get that,” Sire responded instantly and in rapid cadence, smiling widely, nodding affirmatively.
“What! Same for you? Motorcycle trips are an escape from the wife?” I asked.
“Yup. Exactly. We just moved from the States to Kyoto, but I always take some time out of the year to be by myself and have some fun,” he replied.
“Oh, then me and you are headed to more than just the same destination,” I observed without thinking too much about what I’d said might be interpreted.
He laughed at that and smiled at me again. A few seconds of comfortable silence expanded between us.
“So, do you like riding bikes?” he asked in a weird intonation on “riding bikes.”
“Well, yeah…I…like…riding bikes,” I responded hesitantly, thinking it was obvious that I liked riding bikes, but then I realized that he was slipping into innuendo. Again. Maybe he had never not been innuendo.
“Yeah, that’s totally what I meant,” Sire snorted and then took another swig of his water from his cup.
“Oh,” I responded lamely, finally realizing what he was saying.
“You’re really cute, Kay. A little dense, but really cute,” he said while smiling his radiant smile, obviously enjoying my embarrassment.
“Oh, uh, thanks?” I replied, unsure tones reverberating through my response.
“Do you think you’d like to take a ride?” he asked, smiling widely and then taking a sip of his water.
He waited for that to sink in.
I stared at him for a few seconds, the possible interpretations of his statement percolating in my mind.
“Uh, I dunno,” I replied at long last, my head tilting down to break eye contact and stare at my coffee cup on the table.
“Have you ever ridden a bike before?”
“Uh ye-” I said before he interjected.
“I’m not talking about motorcycles,” he stated flatly and in rapid cadence.
Silence pervaded the space between us again.
“That obvious is it? Well, then, no,” I responded hesitantly.
“Have you thought about it?” Sire inquired, his head slightly tilting left at the end of his question.
Silence. I gulped nervously then answered.
“Yeah, I’ve thought about it…” I responded slowly.
“Just never tried it?” Sire said, resting one of his palms under his jaw.
“Never,” I replied after a few seconds of hesitation. I audibly gulped once.
“That’s no problem with me. And we’re both stuck on this boat for the next day and a half. I could make it really enjoyable for you,” Sire said, planting his jaw in one of his palms.
“Oh…,” I said slowly.
“Seriously. You should take a ride once. You might like it. In my experience, young straight guys really like riding my bike,” he added.
“Uh, I dunno, I just met you…” I said, my eyes breaking contact with his, my gaze suddenly lowered to my legs.
“Okay, I have a proposition for you then,” Sire said.
“Uh okay,” I responded weakly, gulping again. My palms were suddenly sweaty. I raised my head to look at him again.
“You said the communal baths on the ship are closed for repairs. But I reserved the suite room. It has a private shower. How about you come to my suite and take a shower there?”
Wow. A suite room. Those were expensive. This guy was good looking. And a motorcyclist. And aggressively gay. And rich too?
I stared at him for a few moments.
“Uh I dun-,”
“Hey Kay,” he interjected again before I could finish.
He flashed his mischevious smile at me.
“Decide what you want. You can go back to your group cabin and enjoy the pungent smells of four unwashed motorcyclists all night,” he said, holding one hand up flat above the table to indicate one possible choice.