Page 9 of Static/Cling

Bjorn pursed his lips and lifted his eyebrows, as Leif expected, because no way was Bjorn touching the toaster.

No way would Leif have let him, despite being mostly convinced it would be okay, especially right now, with the insulation he’d installed, and Bjorn having so recently got off. Other people lived in their building and didn’t need their homes burned down around them because Leif wanted to pout about not being pretty anymore.

Bjorn didn’t care about what he looked like. It didn’t matter what Kassian thought he looked like, because he didn’t have time for a boyfriend when he had Bjorn to wrangle.

He certainly wouldn’t have someone so dismissive of his best friend. That wasn’t on.

“What do you want on it?” he asked as he crossed to the kitchen area.

“What do you think?”

“It’ll be the last avocado. We’ll have to go shopping.”

“Sure. After I eat, though. Ow!” He yanked his hand back from the counter where he’d been about to lean.

“Come here.” Leif took his hand and kissed his fingertips, then laid Bjorn’s hand on the flat of his stomach. “Zap me.”

“No.”

“Just do it.”

Before Bjorn could protest again, an arc of electric current left his fingers and snapped through the air to trickle along Leif’s abs. It hurt, but he managed a grin to hide his wince.

Bjorn hadn’t been in control of it like he had been on the couch, which meant something was bothering him enough to keep sexy-times off the table, and annoyance on it.

“What’s wrong?” Leif turned to his task, getting bread into the toaster and cutting open the fruit as he waited.

“You didn’t tell me what was in the fine print.”

“You wouldn’t have signed the contract if I had.”

“Because I’m not a superhero, doofus.”

Leif smiled. “Sure you are.”

“Only to you, and that doesn’t count.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t count? Of course it does. And anyway, when you figure out how to control it, people will be begging you to use it for good.”

“The only good it gets either of us is a good orgasm.”

Leaf snickered.

“I’m serious. I could get someone hurt. I could hurt the good guys. Or fail to hurt the bad guys, and then they could hurt the good guys.”

“It isn’t always about fights, you know.”

“No, I don’t know. I have no idea what being a superhero is like. What I’m supposed to do.”

“That’s why I signed, too, dork. You just do what I tell you to, and we’re golden.”

“Are you finished my toast yet?”

Leif handed him the plate. “Your green goo, your majesty.”

This time when Bjorn ran his fingertips down the side of Leif’s face and over his shoulder, there was no doubt he was one hundred per cent in control of the output. It zipped along Leif’s skin, light and fast, made his stomach muscles tighten, and his balls tingle.

“Jerk,” he muttered as he adjusted his jeans.

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