Page 22 of The Naked Cleaner

“Yeah.” I sniffle, shaking my damn foot out, hoping that I haven’t broken my toe. “I think I broke my toe. I’ll have to stay here for a week now, so it can mend properly.”

Lame. I’m joking. Of course.

“Fine. As long as you cook.”

Oh.Thatwas unexpected.

“Thanks for today.” I almost whisper. I can’t believe we are having a nice conversation. One of many today. We grunted our way through Season 1 of that damn show, nodding appreciatively. Then we hated on Wilhelm, the main dude in Season 2, and cheered on the girls, and yeah, it was good. Weird, but good, and then we started discussing all sorts of things and actually had to pause the TV so we could talk. It was, strangely, nice.

Then the bloody third season got me all hot and flustered and we made toasties.

It’s been the nicest evening I have had in a long time, and I think it’s messing with my self-preservation skills. Of which I have none. Jonas has told me enough times. Even my mum just sighs at me as I mope around after another disastrous date or hook up.

“Louis?” He questions softly.

“Yeah?”

I roll around in bed, on my side. My side. I kind of have my own side in Pontus’ bed. And that’s me giggling at myself like a loser.

“You know I said no cuddling?”

“Yes. I can respect that. I’ll stay on my side of the bed.”

I can. I can be sensible. I can respect boundaries. I am a nice person.

“This thing, us being friends?” He says that like he doubts it. Like a thousand percent.

“We’re friends. No ifs or buts. Friends. Easy.”

I am totally on board with that. I have no doubts. I am down with this enough for the two of us.

“Does this friendship come with…” He coughs. Sniffles. Shuffles awkwardly in the bed making the mattress bounce. “Benefits?” He almost whispers.

I think I handle that one well, without spluttering spit all over the bed or wetting myself.

“Benefits? What kind of benefits are you hoping to include in this friendship, Pontus?”

I’m being nice. I’m being nice. I’m all for benefits. Please tell me you want to blow me because that would be awesome.

He coughs again. Wriggles. The mattress bouncing to the point where I think I might get seasick.

“Stop bouncing around and just talk to me. There is nothing, and I mean nothing you can say right now that will make me embarrassed or make me laugh at you. Just ask for what you need, and I will, within reason, perhaps agree.”

I have to catch my breath after saying all that in one go, and my throat is bone dry and I need water. Why didn’t I bring water? Did Pontus drink water? I’m losing my touch here, I mean the whole point of me being here is making Pontus healthy and getting him better. I don’t know what I am asking. Saying. Doing.

“Could you hold me again? Like you did last night?”

Oh, just fuck my life, because now there are tears in my eyes and I’m all warm, and hot and bothered, and more than a little sappy, because, of course, I just bounce my arse over to his side in one-fell manoeuvre, and then I smile like the crazy human being I am, because he is naked again, and my cock fits nicely just below his arse and my body curls around him like it lives there, and I’m planting little kisses into his neck without thinking, and then I whisper, “Thank you.” Like some love-starved animal.

And he releases a breath, like he’s been holding it for hours. Like that took everything out of him to ask. He’s brave, I admit that. Braver than me.

“You can ask for benefits too, you know.” He says softly. “Within reason.”

“Oh.” My stupid mouth says.

“It’s only fair.”

He’s flirting with me. I hate him. I hate that he’s brave and funny and kind of… charming.

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