Not halfway to the meeting, I spotted him down the hall, maybe fifty feet. I wondered momentarily how I had never noticed how often we walked the same spaces and had never spoken to each other.
But after that phone call, I didn't think I could withstand another awkward encounter, even if it was as small as walking past him, pretending I wasn't making eye contact with him for a better reason.
I was just thinking that there was an empty conference room behind me that I could duck into and hide in while he walked down the hallway, when the fire alarm went off.
For the next moment, I had about one thought per second.
First, realizing it was just a fire alarm. The loudness of it had startled a little adrenaline into my system, but the familiarity of its blaring kicked in quickly.
Thud.
Second, that I could smell just a touch of burned popcorn. Jeez, who makes popcorn in the office? That and microwaving fish should just be banned.
Thud.
Third, I should turn around and head down a different staircase to the parking lot than Khent.
Thud.
Fourth, what was that noise?
Whatever I was going to think next was thrown aside as I was lifted up bodily. It didn't register so much as being picked up in my brain as it felt more like being knocked into, colliding with someone hurrying past.
Then there's the sounds of traffic and the outdoors, and I realize I'm draped over Khent's shoulder like a scarf, and he's currently scaling down the side of the office building.
Building. Outside. Ground.
The realization of what hanging off the side of the building really means comes staggered, slowly all together falling into place.
I’m torn between squeezing my eyes shut so I can't see how far off the ground we still are, and watching each grab at the side of the building he takes just to assure myself that we’re not about to fall. Every movement he makes, digging his fingers into the brickwork, strong and even somewhat graceful, is still terrifying. I need a seat belt or a Janice bjorn or something, anything that's going to assure me he won't just drop me five stories. I nearly elbow him in the face trying to get my arms around his neck.
“Did you attend the same MR meeting as I did?” I squeak, because that’s where my brain goes when nothing else makes sense. It’s easier to focus on the fact we’re supposed to be keeping our distance and this is the opposite of that, than it is to confront that we’re dangling off the side of the building.
He stills, and after a moment I can bear to take a peek at him.
Khent has the audacity to look a little surprised himself. “Fuck.”
“Fuck is not gonna cut it,” I continue to shrill with no semblance of authority.
“I just– I heard the alarm and I didn't think. I just had to get my mate out– I mean,” he tries to backtrack, but it’s too late.
My mate. The words send warmth all through my core and relax all the muscles in my back. To him, we're bonded, not in the middle of a breakup. The part of me that was apparently still dealing with the lingering effects of the Blood Fever– ok, the part of me that actually really missed him, is cheerleading like I scored a touchdown.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that–” he starts to say.
“It’s fine,” I cut him off, even if that’s not really the word for this. “I mean, we’ll get to that later. Let’s just figure our way out of this.”
It's not sweet, it shouldn't be sweet. He can't be thinking of me like that. Why would he, after my shitty breakup email?
My mind has at least two teaspoons worth of rationality left, and it's enough for me to try to school my emotions, despite whatever my body is feeling. I take a moment to breathe and try to think through this.
The parking lot is on the other side of the building, and that's where everyone will be gathering to go through the fire drill procedures while we wait for the firetruck. Below us is just the empty alleyway between the two office buildings. We're maybe four stories off the ground. Still too high for my tastes.
In some attempt to not just be dangling in the wind, I try to wrap my legs around his incredibly broad waist. Even without being under the effects of the Fever, the movement is so familiar between us, it feels like home. Every part of my body that hadn’t been involved in panicking aches to remember that comfort, that tenderness.
And between us, his cock is trapped between my body and his.
“You need to stop sliding around,” he says, his voice low and a little wrecked.