Page 19 of Baking Battles

“Christopher!” Mattias shouts, wearing his slippers, running along the slippery frozen sidewalk. “CHRISTOPHER!”

“Just leave me alone.”

Christopher’s voice is defiant, but Mattias still keeps running until he manages to grab Christopher’s arm. Hard. Because Christopher might be ridiculous, but by God, Mattias can be just as ridiculous when he really wants something. Not that he is quite sure what he wants, but he knows this is something he is about to really mess up unless he gets his act together. Quick.

“My two-year-old throws better tantrums than you do.” He pants, his hand still holding onto Christopher’s coat sleeve, whilst Christopher’s feet can’t stand still. Stomping around and looking like he would rather be anywhere else than on the sidewalk outside Mattias’s apartment.

“I told you, even my Dad thinks I’m an immature child.”

“I think you are brilliant at what you do, and I keep meaning to ask Alima to give me the lowdown on who you are, because she will give me the truth. Every time. But to be honest, Christopher, I have no idea what is going on right now. Zero. You are going to have to spell out what I did to upset you here, because I’m only human. I can’t mind-read. And most of the time I just don’t get people, Christopher, I don’t understand all these subtle messages people send out and I definitely don’t understand when people flirt, and I get things totally wrong so just…”

Mattias has run out of steam and Christopher is finally standing still. Right there on the deserted sidewalk where snowflakes are just starting to form in the cold winter air. He just stands there looking at Mattias like he is just as confused himself. Which is soothing in a way. Comforting.

“You are such an idiot.” Christopher says quietly.

“And you are a flipping drama queen.” Mattias says, before his brain puts the screeches on his mouth. Where the hell did that come from?

“Yeah, my family keeps telling me. I know. I just…”

“Please come inside and help me eat the pizza that is no doubt going to turn up any second. If I have to eat the whole thing myself, I might just be sick.”

Mattias is trying to go gently here. Be a little bit funny, although he knows he sounds like a twat.

“You saidIthrew a tantrum?” Christopher shouts, throwing his arms into the air. “You appear to have taken lessons from your daughter, and deserve to be sick after that tantrumyoujust threw. Your mouth should come with a health warning with all the crap you churn out. Cosy small talk in the morning? Me, I just want a blow job and a cup of tea and I’m like happy for the next twenty-four hours.”

Mattias involuntarily snorts again. Christopher. The bloke is a total nutcase.

“I just want a cup of strong espresso and check the Oslo Børs stock market reports on my phone in peace and quiet. It’s not too much to ask is it?”

“No, it sounds totally reasonable to me, but I’m going to go now. Because I think I need a little time to think, and you need to sleep, and knowing myself, I’ll end up doing something really stupid any second now and you’ll hate me forever. I need to get away from you.”

“Now you’re scaring me.” It’s frightening how Mattias is honest. How he somehow has to be. Because this is Christopher, and Mattias has never had a friend like Christopher before. Someone who is direct and honest and frankly… weird. In a good way. Maybe.

So, Mattias stands there, and just looks at Christopher, who is right there. Standing tall in front of him, with his hair all in a mess and his eyes looking full of hurt, and Mattias doesn’t understand what is happening or how to stop it. How to just make it right again.

“Sorry. Sorry if I said something to upset you.” He tries. “Please come back inside before we freeze to death.”

“Mattias…” Christopher says, and then his hand is on Mattias’s neck, his fingers cold against Mattias’s skin as he gives Mattias a little tug. Fixes his eyes on his and lets his fingers slowly stroke the skin under Mattias’s collar. It’s an odd thing to do, and while usually Mattias would have jerked away at the first attempt by someone at touching him like this, it’s Christopher. And somehow that in Mattias’s head is bringing on some crazy-ass fireworks shooting down his arms. Like he likes it. Like there’s actually a place on his body where he likes being touched.

And there it is again. The tingling in his fingers, the heat in his cheeks. The way his body goes into some kind of frazzle whenever Christopher looks at him.

“I’m gonna go.” Christopher says, his gaze steady on Mattias.

Mattias would reply, but his brain has gone into meltdown. Because right there amongst the falling snowflakes, where the chill in the wind suddenly seems negligible, Mattias Strømme’s mouth is surrounded by the softest of kisses. His lips pressed gently onto Christopher’s mouth, with the grip of Christopher’s hand tightening at the back of his neck, making Mattias pant with something he can’t properly make sense of.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Christopher says, and then he walks off, the sound of his footsteps muted by the slush forming on the pavement.

And Mattias just stands there, stunned into silence.

* * *

The next morning, Mattias is a man on a mission, although his stomach twists with guilt over the untouched pizza boxes still sitting on his kitchen table. He chucks them carelessly in the trash on his way out into the dark morning air, his head held high and his mind going over today’s recipes. Not only has he got his showcase all planned out, but he has a vintage set of glass jars tucked carefully in the rucksack slung over his shoulder, along with his grandmother’s chopping board, the one she used for cutting up her homemade loaves of bread in the rose-tinted memories of his childhood. They are continuing to film episode two today, so today he will have to up his game. Be sharp. Not mess up.

But most of all Mattias is on a mission to fix whatever this is he has started. Because he has had quite a stern talk to himself overnight and kind of agreed to some serious home truths. Like the absolute fact that kissing a man, used to top his teenaged self’s ultimate bucket list. Not just any man, but his men of fancy used to flutter around depending on whatever he was watching on TV, and having certainly and definitely ticked off the top of his bucket list last night, not only with any man, but with an ex-supermodel fancied by, like everyone around the world. That was some serious shit. Awesome. He had gotten up in the early hours of the morning, emptying out the contents of his desk drawers to try to try to find the damn piece of paper where his angst ridden seventeen-year-old self had written all that crap down, and then got his phone out to try to start a new one. He had wiped it all at 3 a.m., and gone back to bed, only to toss and turn until his alarm had shaken him awake at seven.

It’s all back in his head now though as he hangs on to the rail of the number 12 tram chugging along the snow-covered streets of Oslo. It’s just snow, but the first heavy snowfall of the year covering everything in bright white, and suddenly the world is a better place. It’s something his grandmother used to say. Snow makes the world a brighter, happier, better place. He kind of agrees, because he feels lighter than he has in years.

Someone kissed him last night, and he hadn’t seen it coming. And now his head is spinning with ridiculous fantasies of a man who is so way out of Mattias’s league that it’s not actually funny. Not only that, but even if he could, say, get Christopher to agree to kiss him again. Well he needs to back up. He needs to get Christopher to agree to come home with him again, so he can ask questions, because Mattias’s head is spinning with so many questions that he can barely function as he trips over his own feet trying to exit the tram.

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