Prince Charming - Sean Ashcroft

1

Andy

“Oh, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve seen all morning,” I said as Kit stepped out of the elevator, heart rate kicking up a notch in anticipation.

Robin wheeled back from her desk to look at me, eyebrow raised.

“He’s talking to the coffee,” Kit explained with a wry smile in that plush velvet accent of his, passing me the reusable coffee cup I’d had since day one at the Lady Oakesbury Foundation for Disadvantaged Children.

I was talking to the coffee.

Mostly.

Robin’s eyebrow ratcheted up a notch, in danger of disappearing into her fire engine red hair.

“My winnings,” I said, holding the cup close to my chest. The weather outside had turned bitter quick this year—we’d probably see snow before Christmas if it kept up—and the IT department was kept at a cool sixty-nine degrees.

It had once been seventy, but since Robin was put in charge of the thermostat, it'd been sixty-nine. She laughed every time she went past it.

“I should know better than to gamble with you by now,” Kit mumbled into his own coffee, but I knew he wasn’t upset. “You always seem to win.”

“You’re right,” I said, grinning. “You should know better after three years.”

“Yes, well,” Kit smiled another one of his wry smiles that made his periwinkle blue eyes sparkle. “Call me an eternal optimist.”

“Pull up a chair?” I offered. “We’re arguing over whether Batman’s hotter than Superman.”

“Can’t, I have a meeting to get to,” Kit said, as though he was reporting that he was about to have his wisdom teeth yanked without an anesthetic. “But I am obligated to defend my fellow countryman, Henry Cavill, as vastly more attractive than Ben Affleck.”

“I’ll put you down for Superman,” I called after him as he walked away, grinning at the little wave I got as Kit headed for the elevators.

“Okay,” Marlee—our newest recruit—spoke up as she ducked out from behind one of the flimsy divider panels that separated us from the constant hum of the server room. “Who is Approachable Tom Hiddleston?”

“You think he looks like Tom Hiddleston?” I asked.

I supposed... there was some resemblance, mostly in build and accent. Kit's eyes were bluer and his hair was darker.

... and his smile was nicer. Which I guessed was the approachable part.

“He does have Hiddle-vibes,” Robin said with a shrug. “Down here in the IT department, we call him Prince Charming.”

“How do we see our way to calling him Daddy?” Marlee asked, looking toward the elevator like she’d just spotted prey.

I liked her, but I didn’t love her talking about Kit like that.

“He’s gayer than, to quote one of his favorite books, a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide,” I said, leaning back on my chair and locking it in place so my feet dangled above the floor.

“You can quote his favorite books now?” Robin asked.

“We watched the series together and then he gave me a copy.” I shrugged. “I liked it.”

“... I could be a boy,” Marlee spoke up. “I’d do a lot for that accent.”

Robin chuckled. “Don’t bother. He’s got Andy’s name stamped all over him.”

Marlee’s eyes widened. “Shit, he’s your boyfriend? You’re gay?”

“Bi,” I said. “And he’s not my boyfriend.” Why did everyone keep jumping to that conclusion? I couldn’t even go to dinner with him without someone assuming we were together together. “He’s my roommate.”

“Your roommate who’d give his left nut to get into your pants,” Robin said. “I don’t understand why this is obvious to everyone but you.”

“Because it’s not true,” I said. “We’ve been living together almost three years now. To call me easy would be to dramatically understate how not-difficult getting into my pants is. He’s had hundreds of opportunities. All he ever had to do was ask.”

“I’m sensing a crush,” Marlee said, the full weight of her attention suddenly landing on me.

Blood rushed to the tips of my ears.

“It’s not like that,” I lied.

It was exactly like that.

But I wasn’t about to just admit it after years of firm denial.

I’d had a crush on Kit from the moment he said hello in that accent.

Sometimes it was less intense, when there was someone who was actually interested in me in my life.

Sometimes it was a lot more intense, in the awful way crushes could be when all you thought about was your crush, even when you had other things to do.

Right now, it was hovering firmly on the more intense end of the scale.

I was blaming that on the weather. It was cold in New York at this time of year, and that meant standing