They had that in common, a love of reading - Dan liked the classics, he liked how-to books, he liked non-fiction, he liked just about anything. It was a fair mix now in his house. But it was just one of those things, another reason why he was interested in knowing John - the brief glimpses he'd gotten at the party were like catnip; he was filled with darkness, but also light, if even a scant amount. Not everyone saw it though, Dan assumed - but they would, if he just turned it outward.
"Charming," he grinned, popping the cork from the bottle of sparkling non-alcoholic beverage. "I do want to impress you, so hopefully I'll manage somehow."
Drinks were poured, and he used a spatula to poke at the contents of the skillet and the other hand to reach over, resting on John's wrist - because Dan hadn't touched him since he came in, and he was curious about that zing. He’d added the vegetables at this point, then the sauce to let it all cook - the secret to a good stir fry was coconut oil, along with keeping the temperature hot enough and hearing the telltale sizzle. Otherwise it wilted and fell apart, and we couldn’t have that.
Also sriracha. You couldn’t have stir fry without some kick. "Is that what you do mostly, here, read? What did you do back where you came from?"