Page 17 of Baking Battles

Mattias skips down the stairs at the end of a few hours of intense catch-up with his real-life job, locked in his glass-fronted office. The office that is now finally bathed in darkness as Mattias leaves the deserted office landscape behind, and briefly glances over at Danijel’s office that is empty for once. He has left earlier, shooting Mattias a quick thumbs up before disappearing off into the November darkness.

Wednesday. Date night. Something Danijel always talks about and Mattias is almost ashamed to admit that he hasn’t bothered to find out who it is Danijel is dating. Some gorgeous girl, with the right background, no doubt. Someone he will marry, and by doing that, make his parents proud. He hopes. He understands why people make the wrong choices these days, because of how easily he made his own. And he once again gives himself a little pep talk. Never again. Mattias is going to be happy. He is going to surround himself with people who are good. People who make him laugh. People who make him feel good about himself, instead of making him shrivel up to nothing.

And anyway, he smiles, it’s one more day until he gets Emilia back and he can become Daddy Mattias and his life will become a fun-filled rollercoaster of madness, and just that thought is making his chest fill with warmth.

He smiles as he awkwardly shuffles into his winter coat down by reception, letting his phone balance between his teeth as his arms slide into the woolly warmth. The brightly colour-coordinated reception area, quiet and deserted, apart from the security guard on the desk who gives Mattias a lazy wave, before returning his gaze to whatever it is he is reading.

“Mattias?”

The voice startles him, to the point that his phone drops out of his hand, the metal against the marbled flooring giving off a worrying clatter. There goes his brand-new phone, no doubt shattered into a million pieces.

“Fuck.” He stutters out, grappling along the floor grabbing his phone and his lips are saying a little prayer that the damn phone has made it.

“Sorry. So sorry.” Christopher says. “Did your phone survive?”

“Yeah. I think so.” Mattias huffs and polishes the screen with his hand, making the device spring into life with a cheery-smiling Emilia staring at him.

“She’s cute.” Christopher says softly from over his shoulder.

“She is.” Mattias replies softly. “Are you waiting for Danijel?”

“Nah. Wednesday. Date-night.” Christopher replies, sounding a little deflated.

“Oh.” Mattias is slow on the uptake as usual, his brain taking a few seconds formatting the facts and circumstances. He supposes he has always been like that. Stupidly ignorant of people around him.

“Where are you sleeping tonight, Christopher?” And there it is again, his mouth speaking before his brain can engage all the safety brakes.

“I was hoping I could stay with you again. If you don’t mind. Do you mind? Please say if you do, because I know this is last minute and awkward as anything, but yeah. That’s me. I haven’t planned this very well, and my sister has friends staying with her all this week. Their house is basically rammed with people, but she says I can stay next week. I just need a bed for tonight. I’ll buy you dinner too.”

If Mattias didn’t know any better, he would think that Christopher was rambling, his hands grappling with his coat pockets and his eyes full of something that Mattias briefly reads as fear. Not the fear of the dark or loneliness that Mattias already knows Christopher can’t handle, but fear of rejection. Like Mattias would be an arsehole and say no. Which normally he would, because Mattias is an ignorant shit person, who is truly trying here. Because there are nice people in the world. He has met people this week who have made him see things a little differently. People who are not like his usual motley crew up in the office. The interns he barely remembers the names of. The administrative staff who he drills in procedures until they produce his reports exactly the way he wants them. The accountants. The sales team. The buyers. Nameless people who do what he tells them to do, or if they don’t, they will get lectured and sent back to their desks like naughty school children. Maybe Mattias needs this, a little wake up call to remember that he is human, and that other people are human too.

“Come, let’s go. But for God’s sake, can we just have something normal? Can we have pizza?”

Mattias is going for humour here as Christopher suddenly looks totally crushed.

“You didn’t like the Pad Thai?” He almost whispers. “Mattias, you should have told me! You need to be honest with me, otherwise I will keep buying you food that you don’t like! I’m not some kind of God, Mattias. You can tell me to fuck off and go and get a hotel like a normal person.”

“Christopher, fuck off and go and get a hotel like a normal person.” Mattias laughs. It’s crass, perhaps, but then it is a little funny.

“No.” Christopher says, looking defiant. “I need to make up for my horrific dinner faux pas from the other night and treat you to pizza. Amazing Pizza. My treat, and you get to choose the toppings.”

“The noodles weren’t that bad, but I had crazy heartburn the next day. Really bad. I’ve got a sensitive stomach, I think. It’s only used to Emilia’s kind of food these days. Plain bland stuff, you know. Fish fingers. Meatballs. Plain Pasta with ketchup.”

“We can’t have you having heartburn.” Christopher says matter-of-factly.”I will look after your stomach. Good quality stomach-friendly pizza coming up.”

“Cheese and tomato and ham. No mushrooms. I hate mushrooms.”

“Got it.”Christopher smiles, his face already lit by the screen on his phone, his fingers tapping furiously on the screen. “One perfect bland stomach-friendly pizza coming right up.”

“Tram or bus?” Mattias smiles as Christopher grimaces wildly.

“I am allergic to public transport. You shouldknowthis by now. I have a taxi account, and my agent kindly pays it out of my meagre earnings each month, so let’s just live like the pseudo celebs we are and get a bloody car to get us home.”

“Home?” Mattias asks. Yeah, because he is still not quite there with dropping the being-an-arse act.

“Your home.” Christopher whimpers, flashing an apologetic smile. “Do you want garlic dip sauce or Kebab sauce? They have Bearnaise dip too, it’s gorgeous, but might be a bit rich. What do you say?”

Mattias just shakes his head, wondering what he is doing. Again. Doing the exact thing that he thinks he must have told himself he wouldn’t agree to again. He means, seriously? Christopher is coming home with him again? Not only that, but he is no-doubt expecting conversation over dinner, then curling up under Mattias’s double duvet and sleeping in Mattias’s bed. Which is the exact opposite of what Mattias wants right now, on so many different levels, that he can’t get his mouth to connect to his brain before he says something dumb again.

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