Sasquatch to the Moon

26: Breakfast for Dinner and Human Sexuality

YETI

Rocket's apartment door is open and there's an old lady looking at me from down the hall but I feel weird just letting myself in? I've done it before but it feels weird now. 

She's definitely staring at me. "Sir?" I hear a little call.

I clear my throat. "Hi, yeah, hey." My first 'hi' came out very Swedish and then I overcorrected, it was a mess.

She gives me a soft smile. "I miss being young. Tell your boyfriend to let you in, you can't keep a guy locked out after the night you ha-"

I pale, putting my hand on the door and pushing it right open, I don't need that conversation right now. 

When we get together, rule number 1: no sex here apparently. I mean, it's fine, it's a fine rule, I'd rather it happen at my place mostly because I like the idea of him in my bed, but. 

Then I'm standing in his kitchen and listening to the shower running and trying to decide what to say to announce that I'm here.

I start to say something more than once, but I can't muster the confidence, which frustrates me probably too much.

"Håkon, fuck," he's in the door and I'm standing in the kitchen. "The hell did you get here?"

I stutter a little staring at the water falling from his hair. "The door was open, and this- this lady was watching me, so I," I clear my throat. Fuck. "I came in."

"Yeah, let me put on clothes, give me a minute." He's flushed pink.

The water is slipping down his chest, down the centerline of his stomach, his abs exist but they're not prominent, like I've said: he's lean. God and he's soaking wet and hot. His hair is all tousled and it's making me dizzy. The towel is too low on his hips and his body slips down into it. I'm dying to see just a little more. Just a little. The sailboat inked into his ribs is a pretty little thing, a single line wrapping around the shape of the boat, maybe the size of a quarter and nothing more.

"Rocket?" I call.

"Yeah?" He's in his room.

I clear my throat and my head. "Why do you have that tattoo?"

"Ah," he doesn't say anything for a minute. "It's a goal. Before everything happened, Roman and I used to sail together. It's to remind me to try to fix it with him."

"Oh." I respond. He comes out of his room, shorts and a white undershirt that's sticking to his wet skin. "Why on your ribs?" I take my eyes off him.

"So my mom wouldn't see it." He laughs a little. Then we're both standing there, wondering what the fuck happens next.

He makes his way to the fridge and starts to get stuff out to cook with. I watch, trying to come up with anything to say, anything at all.

"I came out to Nico today." He blurts. My heart pauses for just a moment and I have to catch my breath. "She's cool about it, joked around with me a little. I asked her to run the idea past Fen for me, just to see if he's going to be okay with it."

"Oh, I," I stumble over my words. "Congrats?"

"Yeah, thanks." He turns around to me, gesturing to a cutting board. I take to the opportunity immediately, dying to reduce any tension in the room. "But she was really chill about it, it was a relief, honest."

"Is that why you and her disappeared from the weight room?" I mumble. His shoulder brushes mine as he works next to me and my core shivers.

"Yeah, she took me to the break room and I kind of just blurted it. I really don't know, but she was really good with it, didn't say a single thing wrong."