Frank heard footsteps, and they both turned as Geoff padded barefoot into the room. All the camouflage paint was gone from his face, though a hint of green still darkened the edges of his blond hair. He’d traded the camo pants and tactical vest for a pair of snug and undoubtedly expensive jeans and a black tee that stretched perfectly across his chest and abs. These two even made dressing down and slacking off look classy.
Frank had to admit this was much nicer than sitting in track pants and an old jersey in front of his television with store-bought beer and munchies that weren’t nearly as civilised as the ones artfully arranged on Geoff and Mike’s coffee table. Especially since the company was a distraction from the lack thereof in his own house.
One of the cats sauntered closer and crouched down, eyeing the food.
Mike quickly leaned forwards and snapped a finger at her. “Don’t even think about it.”
The cat straightened. Glared at him. Frank snickered; that face had “bitch, please” written all over it.
Mike snapped his fingers again. “Get away from the table.”
She sat down and narrowed her eyes as only a cat could do, creating the most elegant, dignified picture of go fuck yourself Frank had ever seen.
Geoff snorted. “Guess she told you.”
“Mm-hmm.” Mike glared at Geoff, then turned to the cat again. “That’s enough of your sass. Out.” He pointed at the living room doorway.
Naturally, the cat didn’t move.
“I have a better idea.” Geoff got up and picked up the tray of munchies. “You want any more of this?”
Frank shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Mike?”
Mike shook his head too.
Geoff took the tray back into the kitchen, the cat hot on his heels.
“Cats. I swear.” Mike rolled his eyes. “They’re higher maintenance than he is sometimes.”
“I heard that!”
Frank laughed. “I think I’ll stick with goldfish.”
“Didn’t you kill the last couple you had?”
“I wouldn’t say I killed them.” Frank lifted his hands. “The cause of death was undetermined.”
“Mm-hmm. I’m sure there was a full coroner’s— Geoff, goddamn you!”
Frank looked towards the kitchen. Geoff was nowhere in sight, but the cat came trotting out with a piece of cheese in her mouth.
Geoff appeared, innocence writ large across his face. “What?”
Mike groaned. “God. No wonder she begs.”
“Begging, hell.” Geoff dropped onto the couch beside Frank. “She was this close to shanking me if I didn’t give her something.”
Frank laughed. “Definitely sticking to goldfish.”
Geoff eyed him. “I thought you killed—”
“I did not kill my fucking fish!” Frank sighed dramatically.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, darling.” Mike patted his leg. Then his expression turned serious, and Frank barely resisted groaning. He knew where this was going. “Okay. So. Stefan.”
“Yeah. Stefan.” Frank took a long swallow of beer. “What about him?”
“Assuming he doesn’t elope with Chris tonight”—Geoff sidled up closer to Frank—“has it occurred to you that maybe there’s chemistry between the two of you for a reason?”
“Besides the fact that he’s hot and pushes all my fetish buttons?” Frank shrugged. “Guys, let it go. He’s hot. He’s promiscuous. He’s obviously a good fuck.”
Next to Frank, Mike shivered and reached for his beer. “God. Yeah.”
“Mike.” Geoff glared at him.
“It’s okay.” Frank chuckled. “Isn’t like I’ve claimed him, you know?”
Mike’s cheeks darkened a little. “Yeah, but I did kind of feel bad moving in on someone who—”
“Moving in on him?” Frank snorted. “Nice try. I saw the whole thing. Yank captured you and claimed his spoils. All you did was lie there and take it.”
“Not going to argue with that.” Mike closed his eyes as he shuddered. “Fucking hell.”
“I’m getting details from one of you.” Geoff pointed sharply at Mike, then Frank. “Someone better tell me what the hell happened out there, since no one had the decency to film it.”
Frank laughed. To Mike, he said, “You know, we could drag this out for months. Feed him little details here and there.”
Mike stroked his chin. “Hmm, yes. We could.”
“I hate you both,” Geoff muttered into his beer. He took a drink and set the mostly empty bottle on the coffee table. “Anyway. To be serious for one bloody minute, I really do think you and Stefan should clear the air. Even if he and Chris do shack up and elope before sunrise, you two still have to work together. And whatever it is that clicked between you, it should be addressed.”
“And I’ve known him, what, a week?” Frank shook his head. “I can’t put my life story out there for him and hope he’ll keep it under his hat.”
“No, maybe not.” Geoff moved a little closer still and put his hand on Frank’s leg. “Except I don’t think he’ll believe you for a second if you try to convince him you’re not interested. That cat’s already out of the bag.”
Frank rested his hand on top of Geoff’s. “Then let’s hope Chris makes it a moot point.”
Mike looked at them, one to the other, then squeezed Frank’s other thigh. “You guys wanna kiss, I’ll grab the camera.”