Page 20 of Static/Cling

“Still. I’m sorry about that. It got away from me a bit, but in my defence, you do smell really great.” He patted Kassian’s bicep. “And, well.” He shrugged, his cheeks got pink, and he pulled his hand back. “Sorry.”

“I—it’s okay.” Kassian felt heat in his own face, and he glanced from Leif to Bjorn. “I’m not offended,” he said, to both of them, because for some reason, that seemed appropriate.

“But are you interested?” Leif asked with a wink.

“Am I… what?”

“Dude,” Bjorn said, more gently than not. “These boxes are not filled with feathers.”

“Right. Sorry!” Leif straightened and started up the stairs.

Kassian had a moment of regret at the loss of his warmth, and when he glanced down at Bjorn, instead of anger or jealousy, he saw… sympathy?

“Small but deadly,” Bjorn muttered. “I get it, believe me.”

“But you should be pissed.”

Bjorn shrugged. “Not how we work.” He smiled, and it seemed genuine. “You’ll see.” And he jerked his head up the stairs, because he couldn’t go up until Kassian did.

When all the boxes had been assembled on and under and beside the conference table, they all stood around the pile frowning at it. It made Leif really glad he’d be doing the bulk of his training online. With videos.

“Guess that explains the empty file cabinets,” Roger observed.

“That’s a lot of boxes,” Sal said.

“It’s a lot of reading,” Kassian added.

“And filing,” Leif agreed.

Bjorn sighed, took the lid off the nearest box, conveniently marked with a big, black number one on the side, and pulled out the first file, which he silently took to his desk, sat, and began to leaf through.

Leif opened up the backpack he’d brought, pulled out a tin of coffee, and got to work cleaning and filling the old coffee maker.

Everyone perked up as the smell of it permeated the room. He took a tiny bit of perverse pleasure watching them all deflate a bit when he only pulled two ceramic mugs from his pack.

But he wasn’t an asshole, so he quickly brought out the other three he had and poured the brew for everyone. Really, he had nothing against Roger and Sal. They seemed okay, and as soon as he glanced up at them, they came over to doctor their drinks and thank him.

He poured coffee for Kassian too. He’d been a gentleman in the stairwell, when he could have been a creep or anasshole about Leif’s embarrassing reaction, and that counted for something.

After the adrenaline rush of the near miss with his digital snooping, carrying the lion’s share of the boxes up, then being confronted with Leif’s weirdness, Kassian had had a difficult morning.

The least he deserved was a cup of coffee.

But because he’d been taught, and he firmly believed, that you danced with the one who brought you—at least until they agreed to adding a third dance partner—he brought Bjorn his coffee first.

“Thanks, babe,” Bjorn said absently, taking the cup and sipping like he totally trusted Leif to make sure it was the right sweetness, the right colour and the right temperature.

It was cute how he called Leif “babe” when he was preoccupied. There had been a time when Leif thought he should remind Bjorn they were only roommates and friends. But whatever. It wasn’t like he had wall-to-wall dates lined up with anyone else.

“Sure.” He lifted a hand to tussle Bjorn’s hair, but Bjorn pulled away.

“Not yet,” he whispered.

“Oh.”

Bjorn smiled weakly at him. “Too much still.”

“I shouldn’t have suggested you use your power on his computer. That was a lot.”

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