I believe the operative phrase here is.
Dun-dun-DUNNNNNNN.
.
Noa was still pacing in place, like he'd been doing for the past three hours. There was nothing about him, nothing at all, which spoke to his brother's natural calm; though he did, truly, look like Seto, he would never have been mistaken for Seto. Even if he dyed his hair and raided his elder's closet, Noa was too jittery, too high-strung.
Ryo, by contrast, would have done Seto proud: he was as calm and centered as an elder monk. He could have balanced a teapot on his head for how little he moved. His face was neutral, even pleasant, and there wasn't the slightest indication that anything at all could bother him.
"Do you just not like airports, Noa?" Ryo asked softly.
"I mean, no," Noa said, "but I think you already understand what I'm jumpy about."
Ryo smiled dotingly. "I do," he said, "but it's okay. I promise. Everything is going to be fine."
"You say that," Noa shot back, "and I truly think you believe that, but none of that is remotely the point." He fidgeted. "I'm supposed to do something here. I don't know what it is, but I'm supposed to do it! Until I figure out what it is, I'm just going to walk around and around in this little line until I wear a hole into this floor. Maybe I'll pour water in it and make a private pool."
Ryo's smile widened. "It's all right," he said. "You're doing exactly what you should be doing."
"Oh, you know what it is?" Noa asked. "Because I don't."
"You're keeping me company."
Noa's face went bright red. "You stop that," he said, pouting at his boyfriend. "You cut that out right now. I have a reputation."
Ryo giggled.
Noa forced himself to sit down. He pulled a book out of his pocket and tried to read. About two minutes later, he placed his book back in its pocket and took out a Nintendo 3DS from another pocket. He played a game for precisely four minutes before he turned it off and put it away, too. He plucked up his phone and messed around with it for seven minutes. All the while, Ryo simply sat there, pleasantly placid, calm as you please, with his hands folded in his lap. He watched the people walk by, looking supremely content with his situation. He was precisely where he wanted to be right now.
An earthquake might have made him frown, but only in confusion.
Noa finally settled on an activity that suited him, and it took Ryo a while to understand what it was that he was doing: he was reciting Tolkien's The Hobbit to himself, complete with varying voices for the different characters. Ryo found himself transfixed mostly by how accurate Noa was; he was well-versed in his Tolkien, and while he couldn't remember any of the old master's novels word-for-word, he remembered enough to understand that Noa did.
Noa had just gotten to the part of the story where Thorin's company of dwarves were cleaning up Bilbo's house and singing a song about it, when Ryo noticed that someone was striding up to them, rolling a single piece of luggage beside him. Ryo turned his attention away from his companion and toward the new arrival, and suddenly all the anxiety Noa had been inadvertently allowing him to suppress came up full force all at once.
It took a tremendous amount of strength and willpower to stand up and step into a hug.
"Welcome home, Papa," Ryo said, almost too quietly, and his smile almost reached his eyes.