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Tam's laughter sparks butterflies in his stomach, nervous energy building as the captain's hand finds his waist and their lips meet a second time. He forgets all about the oven, the poffins, the Pokémon no doubt judging them nearby, and thinks only of this:

It's not hard for Orion to feel strongly for others, much as he might deny it. He falls in and out of puppy love with people entirely depending on how much attention they give him; a simple smile can be enough to spark a crush.

Tam's different, though. Tam is consistent. Tam is his friend. Tam is also his boss, which should really be a problem, but he doesn't care. If anything, it adds to the thrill. Like they're misbehaving, even in the privacy of Orion's home.

As they kiss, Orion's fingers explore the curve of Tam's jaw, sliding up beneath his ear to tangle in blond hair.

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"I don't think this is one of the usual steps."

Orion's cheeks are flush with colour as pause is taken for breath, the fingers in Tam's hair slackening to trail along the back of his neck and rest there. He feels both shy and strangely giddy, though perhaps the latter can be chalked up to a lack of air as much as his persistent crush.

His smile is soft, sweet, shy.

"I don't mind, though," added quickly, with the sudden anxiety that Tam might think he was complaining. Mortifying. "I like you a lot more than I like cooking."

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I just really like you.

He doesn't say it, suddenly afraid of the rejection that might come if Tam laughs it off or finds him silly.

He opts, instead, to enjoy the closeness. The fact that Tam doesn't take the hand from his waist, or step back from the comfort zone Orion so rarely allowed others to cross. Breath catches in his throat when Tam grips his chin, gentle.

His brain's short-circuiting, and all he manages is a dazed, "Y-Yeah." He's very conscious of the loft, the bed, just feet above them. Not that they'd made it to the bed before. "How?"

He's not stupid. He knows. But this is part of the game, of the thrill.

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Orion's attempts to flirt sail directly over the captain's head, and he can't decide whether to be exasperated or endeared. He settles on a little bit of both, his smile fond even as he rolls his eyes with a laugh.

"Of course I know," he fires back.

Then Tam kisses him again, and whatever cheeky thing he might've said next is lost to the moment.

Clover's quiet bark rouses him from heat and nerves, his wide green eyes a little dazed as he draws back just enough to catch his breath, but not so much as to disengage from the other.

"Timer's on," he says. "We could wait upstairs." After a pause, as if he's genuinely worried Tam won't take the hint, he adds, "I still haven't shown you the bedroom."

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