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"Nah, I finally managed to grasp that one after years of struggle." He might be exaggerating a little for the humour. It had taken a while, though. The offer sinks in, and he tentatively adds, "Wouldn't mind learning some other stuff from you, though. Would be nice to be able to mix all the fresh shit I get from the neighbours into something nice..."

He liked his neighbours. He got Combee honey and fresh vegetables from them, fresh milk from his Gogoat, and a sense of community on the little Verdanturf ranch. It was nice, despite the anxiety.

He shrugs when Tam mentions avoiding vegetables.

"No judgement," he assures. "Just... not my thing."

Arceus, does he ever blush harder when Tam teases him about the misconception. He wants to fade into another dimension to escape the weight of those sky-blue eyes, but blessedly Tam turns away to continue to the dining room. After a few beats, Orion follows.

"Sorry." This was so embarrassing. You weren't supposed to make it weird. "I'm, uh, fine about that too. Feeling better." Definitely because we fucked. "Sorry, again, about the jail thing."

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Telling Orion not to apologise is like suggesting that he shouldn't breathe; it's almost a natural reflex at this point. But he understands Tam's sentiment, and inclines his head in acceptance.

"I will be. Thanks."

He finally begins to eat, some of his nerves soothed by their conversation. Tam's a pretty good cook. Orion doesn't have a lot of one night stands on account of his crippling anxiety. He finds himself wondering if they're all this sweet afterwards, or if he's just hit the jackpot.

The alarm on Orion's phone goes off, and he flinches hard enough to spill coffee on his arm. Unfortunately, not the metal one.

"Work alarm," he groans, shutting it off. "Forgot. You got paper towels?" He'd also unfortunately got some of the coffee on the table. Good going, Orion.

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Cheeks flush at Tam's exasperation, but is that fondness behind the verbal eye-roll of his name? It's something, something to which his overly analytical anxiety brain latches onto without hesitation.

"I didn't know you had a uniform." He's joking; of course he knows, but he rarely sees the Captain wearing it. "You sure it still fits ya?"

Thankfully their difference in height and proportions isn't so drastic as to make swapping clothes an impossibility, so he nods. "I'll stop by the dry cleaner's on the way to HQ." Then, because it's more uncomfortable to sit in a coffee-damp shirt than to let his boss, who has already seen him naked, see his bare chest, Orion strips off the shirt and lays it aside. Now he's gonna be all sticky, though. "Mind if I use your shower?"

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