The Price of Ice

Chapter 10

B y the time he’d woken Levy up for dinner—another delivery, because all Kallen had done all day was doze and read a novel he’d found on Levy’s bookshelf—his friend was well enough to ask how long he’d be off the ice for.

“Didn’t ask,” he had to admit. “Andrews probably has to check with the Maslow anyway.”

“Fuck.” Levy gave up on trying to spear his final cherry tomato—Kallen had offered assistance and been refused, and there was nothing stopping him from using his fingers anyway. He rubbed at his face. “I’m gonna be out for ages, aren’t I?”

Kallen kicked his foot under the table. “Don’t go there! You know how it is; the more you rest, the faster you’ll heal.”

“Yeah, but—” Levy looked utterly dejected. Kallen got it, even though injuries were part of their life, they all lived in the eternal hope of being unbreakable. Hockey was a rough sport by nature, humans hadn’t been designed to slide on ice at top speeds while swinging sticks. It was what made it exhilarating.

“Hey.” Kallen tried a softer kick this time. “I’ll keep you company, and maybe you can catch up on your movie list. It’s longer every time you go in there.”

Levy’s smile was weak, but it was there. “Yeah, I guess.”

IT COULDN’T HAVE BEEN said that he’d meant to move in. Or at least not right away, it’d just made sense to go back to check on Levy when he’d got back from practice the next day. They’d already been eating dinner together after work pretty much every night, and it wasn’t like Kallen was going to drop him when he was injured, was it?

He was a little surprised when Levy glanced up from what looked like a game of solitaire and said, “Good, you are here, go wash your hands.”

Kallen was pretty sure his friend hadn’t said that with any will behind it, but he still found himself in the kitchen chopping onions. “Why am I doing this again?” he asked after ten minutes of being ordered about the place.

“You have ordered takeaway for every single meal,” Levy said it like it was an accusation instead of a practical decision in the circumstances. “I can’t take it anymore, and it’s not healthy, even if they pretend they don’t put shit in it, there is still no love in the food.”

“Love?” he repeated, lifting his forearm to drag it over his wet cheeks. “It’s that what’s in my tears?”

Levy snorted a laugh, and maybe it wasn’t quite up to his usual standards, but Kallen was pretty sure it was real. “Hold your nose closed. It’s only two onions; I can do five without crying by now.”

“My hands are kinda busy, if you haven’t noticed.”

“What? No, just... you know, like you do for swimming? Hold your breath but just with your nose.”

Kallen tried and he could do it, even if it wasn’t exactly comfortable. “My breath is going to smell like onions,” he complained, even though he was done with them and dropping them into the waiting pan Levy had set on the burner for him.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kiss you,” his friend shot back, and it was very lucky for the team that Kallen had already set down the knife and grabbed the carrot peeler. He was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the lengthy pause before Levy added, “Peel those and chop them tiny, they are harder than onions so if you don’t, they won’t cook enough.”

The Bolognese sauce had been a success, and even if the first gnocchi he’d put in water had just dissolved into mush, the second set had been edible.

“Next time we’ll do garlic bread,” Levy had declared, leaning back on his chair and putting his good hand on his stomach.

Kallen had raised an eyebrow at him. “Next month maybe, this is a carb fest already.”

“Homemade is different,” his friend argued, waving with his good hand.

“It’s nicer, for sure,” Kallen agreed, smiling a little despite himself. It felt quite good to have accomplished a whole meal from scratch, even if he’d basically been filling in for Levy’s hands, he’d still done it, and he thought he could do it again. Despite all the stereotypes about omegas, no one had ever offered to teach him how to cook before. “But love isn’t going to help your muscles grow.”

Levy let out a dramatic gasp. “How dare you! Love can do anything. In fact, love can heal.” He glanced down pointedly at his left elbow.

It was just a joke, Kallen knew it, but he still found himself tongue-tied. “You want water?” he asked instead of answering, and he was already on his feet with his own half full glass and heading to the kitchen before Levy had a chance to answer.

“Get me a beer!” he hollered after a minute when Kallen still hadn’t returned, so he got two. It was as good a reason as any for Levy to delay the next dose of his painkillers.

THE NEXT DAY WAS SUNDAY , but Kallen hadn’t even thought about going downstairs to the Johnsons’ after dinner. Levy preferred to shower in the mornings anyway, so it was easier if he was just down the corridor in the guest room.

After that first time, Levy had put his foot down about Kallen going into the bathroom with him, but he’d agreed to letting him know and leaving the door ajar so if he fell, Kallen would hear.

It was better that way, the last thing he needed were more images of his teammate naked to add to the ones he was trying not to think about. Or dream, but he figured if he dreamed about it then it wasn’t his fault and if he woke up hard, that was just normal for a guy his age anyway.

Breakfast foods had been his specialty until Levy had got hold of him and started teaching him dinner appropriate recipes, so he went into the kitchen.

That morning, he was feeling particularly proud of his eggs and he didn’t want them to get cold, so he went in search of Levy.

He heard him before he saw him, though, and it was obvious he was on the phone.

“I’m sure,” he was saying patiently. He’d left his bedroom door ajar, maybe a new habit, maybe for Kallen’s benefit. It hadn’t even crossed his mind until this moment that Levy could fall while changing clothes as well as in the shower. “You don’t need to— I, no, really, mum, you got enough on your plate. Kallen’s—” He sighed, and then raised his voice and called out, “Kallen!”

He jumped half a foot in the air, suddenly aware that he’d been eavesdropping. At least he hadn’t overheard anything too private, but still. He hesitated, then opened the door. “Yeah?”

“My mother wants to know you are a good replacement,” Levy explained, and then he put his phone on speaker. “Mum, this is Kallen, who’s been feeding me and making sure I don’t even shower unsupervised.” This came with a mostly mocking glare.

“Hello, Kallen,” came a woman’s voice and he’d never heard her before, but he could tell she was not pleased at suddenly being plunged into a conversation with a stranger either. “Are you staying over?”

“Um, hi, yeah, I haven’t left since Levy got injured. I mean, except to go to practice, but I left food, and he promised not to do anything risky while I was away.”

His friend grimaced, but bit his lip, obviously intent on playing dutiful son. “See?” he asked his mum.

“And what about your parents? Do you live with them?”

“No, they... No, I live with the Johnsons, and they got plenty to do with their own kids, they don’t mind. Plus, it’s only three floors down. There are a lot of White Cat families in this building,” he added in a flash of inspiration, and Levy smiled at him in approval over the phone he still held between them. “So even when I have to travel, someone can come check on Levy.”

“Mmm...” Levy’s mum was clearly still sceptical. “I see. Can I have these families’ numbers then?”

Levy’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but when Kallen lifted a hand in the air to signal for him to wait, he stopped. His eyes didn’t leave Kallen as he inhaled deeply, nodding at him to indicate he should do the same.

“Levy?” Mrs Pollack asked in the silence.

Levy’s eyes lingered on his own for a moment longer before he responded on the exhale. “Yeah, um, let me see about that. I’ll call you in a couple of days, yeah? Everyone has your number, so they can call you.”

Somehow, he got her off the phone, asking her to say hello to the rest of the family for him. “Sorry,” he told Kallen, mouth twisting to the side. “She is bad with injuries, she had a sick sister growing up, so she gets all controlling.”

“It’s fine,” Kallen told him. It was weird to him; his parents had always taught him to be independent. He assumed they must have been this protective when he was really really young, but he didn’t remember it and his brothers were both older than him, so he’d never seen anyone behave that way. “Um, so I made breakfast. It’s probably cold by now, but...”

Levy jumped off the bed, wincing a little as he jostled himself.

“Don’t break yourself,” Kallen chided him, but he didn’t grab him to make him slow down. “You made me responsible in front of your mother. Now if anything happens to you, she’ll hunt me down and kill me in revenge.”

It was a bit over the top, but it made Levy guffaw. “Wow, you have really thought about that in the last... thirty seconds?”

Kallen shrugged. “You are lucky I can think on my feet, you just...” He mimicked dropping something.

“I knew you could handle it,” his friend claimed, but when Kallen turned to shoot him a look where he was already sitting at the breakfast bar, he found him smirking. Kallen rolled his eyes at him, but it was strangely nice to hear.

THEIR TEAMMATES HAD been asking after Levy, naturally, and Levy himself had mentioned them enough that Kallen knew they’d been texting him too, but he still didn’t expect their welcome when he drove them to the arena.

“The roooooookies are here,” someone called out, and maybe Levy had been expecting it because he was already calling out, “Left arm is the broken one!”

It was a good precaution to exaggerate since the blue sling blended into the hoodie he was wearing and moments later he was surrounded by alphas in different states of undress, some towering over him in skates, some barefoot despite the danger to their toes from the blades.

Kallen held back a little, observing their reunion. The way Levy growled and swatted at Will when he tried to ruffle his curls, only to get caught by Matt from the other side.

McKinley had to intervene and tell everyone to finish getting changed, meeting Kallen’s eyes to make it clear he was included in the order. He wanted to argue that he would just walk Levy to the physio’s office, but McKinley had a hand on Levy’s shoulder and was leading him towards the exit, and what was Kallen supposed to say? That he knew the way better than their captain?

So he sucked it up and went to get changed. He knew it was absurd to feel this protective. Levy was a grown-arse man, he didn’t need to get walked to the door. Maybe he’d needed a little help the first couple of days, but really, if he’d wanted, he could have got by on takeaway for however long it took his arm to heal enough for him to go back to cooking. He probably really didn’t need to be supervised in the shower, even at a distance.

Fuck, was Kallen really any better than Levy’s mum?

“Stop moping, Guin,” Hirst told him, tapping him on the shoulder as he went by. “The Ice Cap will bring your puppy back.”

Kallen glared at him, then hastily dropped his eyes. Hirst was alternate captain, not to mention his senior both in antiquity and age in the team. And an alpha, of course. They could tease, but Kallen wasn’t supposed to get angry at him for real.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, and bent over to tie his skates.

He’d feel better once he was on the ice, he was sure.

“COULD USE A LITTLE more focus, Guin,” Hirst was telling him, and Kallen kept his eyes firmly on the ground. It wasn’t even untrue; on the ice everything else should have ceased to exist. Today he hadn’t managed.

“Leave him alone,” Benny Ariak told Hirst. “He’s an omega, it’s natural he’ll be worried about an injured teammate.”

He was surprisingly soft for an enforcer, completely unlike his uncle the doctor. And his half-sister Cat. Maybe if you were born a White Cat, you either got the hockey talent or the complete lack of empathy. Maybe Benny’s father, from whom he must have inherited his dark skin and curly hair, had been some sort of saint. It seemed unlikely, given Benny’s surname meant he was the child of a team omega.

Hirst snorted. “Oh, yeah, he was super worried about me, I bet.”

“You got your own omega to worry about you,” Benny shot back, and for a moment, without his usual good cheer, he looked like the enforcer he was. Like an alpha, protective and dangerous both. “Pollack doesn’t.”

Kallen’s fists clenched on the shirt he’d just taken from his bag and his teeth weren’t doing much better. It was true he hadn’t been that worried about Hirst, who’d re-injured his weak knee, but he’d been playing for him anyway, hadn’t he? And also, Hirst had never gone out of his way to look after him like Levy had. Maybe both of them were his alphas equally, but...

But only Levy was his friend.

Of course that was the last thing he could say. Management knew he was checking on Levy, and maybe Johnson had even told them that he was staying with him to do that more effectively. He tried to remember if any other unmated teammates had got injured before and could only think of Matt, who of course had Will to look after him. No one had told him he was expected to behave this way with Levy. No one had needed to tell him, Kallen hadn’t even thought of doing anything else.

Was that instincts or being a good friend? Maybe Hirst was right that he was taking it too far. Like, how did it help Levy to have Kallen thinking of him instead of the puck on the ice? If anything, he needed Kallen to play as well as he could, to help the team score while Levy was away.

By the time he made it to the physio rooms, he’d half convinced himself that he’d drop Levy home and head upstairs. Maybe ask the Johnsons to take Levy some dinner, or...

And then Levy came out looking dazed, saw Kallen and took the two extra steps necessary to lay his head on his chest, eyes closed and swaying a little. Kallen instinctively braced himself to keep them both upright, free hand going around his friend’s back. “Hey, you okay?” he asked in a rough whisper.

Levy’s nod came accompanied by a sound very far from affirmative.

Kallen had manoeuvred him, so he was on Levy’s good side and started walking them out. When he risked a glance, he saw Levy’s eyes were actually closed. What had the physio done to him?

He waited until they were in the car to ask and reached over and squeezed Levy’s knee when he got no response. Levy’s eyes opened but he looked no less disorientated. “What?”

“What did she do to you?” he repeated.

“Uh? Nothing, like...” His eyes fell to his arm, back in its sling. “Some tissue got stuck...” He seemed to run out of words, good hand coming up to rub at his face. He hadn’t shaved properly, Kallen noticed. “It’s good, just... tiring.”

Stuck tissue didn’t sound good to Kallen, but he couldn’t argue with the second part and surely the team wouldn’t hire someone who might break one of their players, right?

Kallen had reclined the seat for him, so he was at a reasonable angle for his neck, and Levy had gone out like a light. Both good things and yet, it meant he wasn’t sure if he should wake him up now that they were home. He finally reached out and touched Levy’s face, his fingers catching on the stubble there, very carefully not lingering any longer than he needed to.

It got him a little sigh, but no signs of waking. “Hey, man,” Kallen said, too low, and then louder. “Levy, come on, let’s go up.”

His friend grunted, clearly unhappy.

“Think of your bed,” Kallen encouraged. “Won’t give you a crick in your neck.”

“Bath,” Levy mumbled.

“What?”

Levy huffed, but started sitting up, moving his neck around. “Kira said I need a bath.”

Since medical instructions came first, Kallen started the bath going as soon as they got upstairs and Levy was sitting down on the sofa. Then he grabbed the anti-inflammatory drops and dissolved them in hot water for him to sip—thankfully Levy was managing to keep his eyes open.

He started heating up some leftover stew and toasting some bread and Levy had to remind him to go check the bathtub before he flooded the place.

“Kallen,” his friend said when he got back. “Slow down, man. You just had practice, it’s not... I’m just tired, you know that, right?”

Kallen paused, realising his own heart was racing. “It’ll get cold,” he pointed out.

“You can add more hot water,” Levy replied, easy as only he knew how to be, like the world wasn’t full of obstacles. Except not really, Levy saw the obstacles just fine, he was simply ready to sort them as they came to him without worrying too much ahead of time. “Get the food and sit down.”

They’d ended up having dinner on the sofa, and Levy had dropped a carrot on the carpet, but the water had been mostly hot when they’d got to the bath afterwards. For once, his friend hadn’t tried to send him away at all, he’d even let Kallen take off his trousers for him, only helping when it came to tugging his boxers down. Kallen had kept his eyes focused on the tape, now bright pink. Part of him wanted to look, of course, but it was a very small part compared to the one that wanted to put his arm around Levy’s back to steady him as he stepped into the steaming water with a sigh of pleasure.

THE NEXT DAY THEY HAD a home game against the Hounds in the afternoon, and Levy insisted on going to the arena with him to cheer the team from the stands. Kallen wouldn’t deny him that, even if a selfish part of him wanted Levy safe and resting at home.

It wasn’t his place to say that. And it didn’t even make sense, how could Levy be safer alone than with the team?

In the end, it helped to know Levy was watching. He could focus much better than he had at practice, wanting Levy to see him and be proud. He scored in his first shift off a pass by Hirst and then had an assist that Hirst himself didn’t manage to get to goal before it was time to head over the boards for a drink and a rest.

The assistant captain patted his shoulder when they got there. “Now we are talking,” he told Kallen, smiling at him. “Keep your foot on the gas.”

He did, and they won. Not only because of him, naturally. They scored three more times and Vandy had kept the goal closed up tight, lots of failed attempts to score that would be showing up as bruises all over the goalie. Kallen was even grateful to him for it, the anger he’d felt softening as the weeks went by.

And then, like the cherry on a three-tier cake, Levy came to the locker room to congratulate them all. Kallen was in the shower already, so he only overheard the hollers and teasing, but when he came out, in a towel but with his boxers on underneath, his eyes immediately found Levy across the locker room. He didn’t register he was grinning until his friend echoed it. He looked away, hurrying to his locker to finish changing, practically vibrating with anticipation.

It was stupid, because the exciting part had just passed, he’d scored and had two assists, and they’d won. But then he stepped outside the locker room and Levy got an arm around his neck and dragged him into a one-armed embrace and Kallen inhaled deeply into his neck, his sandalwood and apples scent like a hit of home and safety to ground the exhilaration still rushing through his veins.

“You were amazing,” he whispered into Kallen’s ears, and Kallen couldn’t disguise the shiver that sent through him. He didn’t even want to.

But of course, they couldn’t stay there long. Other guys started coming out, and Levy let him go to talk to them about their own plays.

He was a little surprised when Benny stopped on his way out to squeeze his shoulder. “Beautiful goal, Guin,” he praised, and Kallen suddenly recalled his intervention with Hirst the previous day. He still didn’t like the idea that he was only caring for Levy because of his phenotype, but now it occurred to him that Benny himself was unbonded. Maybe he’d want Kallen’s attention if he was injured too. He was only three years older than Kallen and still building his career, even if like all kittens, he had an edge from being trained to skate by professionals since before he could walk. He was a decent goalie, and since they’d been winning, they’d put him in for Vandy for a period in the middle.

“Thanks, man,” he said. He couldn’t remember them ever talking about anything other than hockey or food. “Um, you did good stopping that crazy wrister from Miller.”

Benny’s smile twisted into a grimace. “Oh, I know, I’m gonna be feeling that one!” But even that he said with good cheer.

“Kallen?” He looked away from Benny at the sound of Levy’s voice. “You ready to head home?”

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed. Levy wasn’t smiling, which for him wasn’t too far from frowning. He turned to Benny once more and patted his arm. “See you tomorrow.”

FOR ONCE, IT WAS KALLEN speaking as they made their way to the car. It’d been a good game, and Levy had been there afterwards to congratulate him and now they were going home together to have some food—he’d already decided he wanted a mountain of sushi.

Levy was responding to his highlights, and even pointing out stuff Kallen hadn’t seen because he’d been too close to the action, but something was off.

“Are you okay?” he asked once they got in his car.

“Yeah,” his friend said. It was transparently untrue, and Kallen had no idea how to challenge it without sounding insane. “Tired.”

He let Levy play some music for a bit, but he didn’t even make it home before it burst out of him, “No, really, what’s wrong? You’re... quiet.” It sounded ridiculous put like that. “Did the physio tell you something?”

The idea flashed into his mind, and he had to make an effort to keep his eyes on the road as another car changed lanes way too close to him.

Levy was still quiet. “It’ll take at least four weeks to heal, and I’m only going to be on no contact a bit longer than that.”

And they’d known all that, hadn’t they? Kallen didn’t reply, getting them out of the motorway with all the skill he possessed and double parking in the first spot he found in the suburbs. He let go of the steering wheel and turned to look at his friend, who was already looking at him out of hooded eyes. “You knew that, though,” he said, as gently as he could manage.

“Yeah...” Levy swallowed. “But I was hoping it would be faster. Like, I was really good and rested, and...” His mouth twisted and Kallen saw his shoulder twitch as he held back a shrug. “I’m being ridiculous. I know that, but all I can think about is that on your next heat I won’t be there.”

“What?” The word felt like it’d been punched right out of him.

“I’m sorry,” Levy told him instead of anything that made sense.

Kallen shook his head, shutting his eyes for a moment as if he could reset reality somehow. Then he opened them and looked straight at Levy’s contrite expression. “You don't... That’s nuts, man. It’s not your job to—” He waved a hand between them. Protect Kallen? “It’s my job, and I have done it without you loads of times. It was... I appreciate what you did. But you gotta focus on getting better, not go around thinking you won’t be able to do me a favour.”

“I just—” Levy bit the words back, but his expression only got more mulish.

He wasn’t sure he could take hearing the rest of it, but he couldn’t take Levy’s help and leave him hanging now. “Is there something I can do? Am I... like is it making it worse that I’m in your space so much?”

“No!” Levy straightened like Kallen had suggested jumping out the window. “No,” he repeated, softer but still wide-eyed. “I don’t— You’re helping.” His throat worked as he swallowed. He lifted his gaze, and essayed a smile that didn’t quite reach his sad eyes. “I like having you around.”

Kallen was nearly sure that was true. “Okay, you got it,” he said. “You want to choose dinner?”

Levy didn’t look away, and his eyes narrowed. “Mmm... No, I bet you are thinking sushi.”

“How...?” Kallen stared at him.

But his friend was already laughing. “I saw you checking that you had them on your speed dial,” he admitted, and Kallen had to laugh at that. He was being silly, of course, it wasn’t like Levy could read his mind.

Not that he wanted that, it’d have made this messy friendship of theirs even more complicated if he’d known what went through Kallen’s mind on the regular.

ONCE, WHEN HE’D BEEN fourteen, Kallen had broken his little finger.

It sounded like the tiniest injury imaginable, but it’d been his dominant hand and it’d fucked up his whole game. To add insult to injury quite literally, his mother had insisted he take the three weeks the family doctor had recommended even though there would have been no harm to him skating around with his hand properly bundled up. The team medic had sympathised, and he’d been allowed to sit on the machines to work on his legs after the first week’s x-ray had shown he was healing well.

Levy didn’t even get that much. All the physical exercise he was allowed at the moment were the ones he did with the physio, or with Kallen on weekends if he was at home.

He’d just flopped flat on the carpet, growling a little. “I fucking can’t anymore,” he told Kallen or the ceiling above. “Might as well just wait until I can move again.”

It wasn’t true, but Levy knew that already—he’d told Kallen about fucking up his ankle the previous year and the month it’d taken to recover, and naturally they’d both spent years surrounded by injured teammates. Logic wasn’t going to help here.

“You wanna take a break?” he suggested instead.

Levy turned his face to look at him, and he no longer looked angry. In fact, he looked close to tears.

“We could—” Kallen backtracked because for all that his teammate obviously enjoyed ordering him around in the kitchen, he clearly missed cooking. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of something else he couldn’t do. “Go out? You’re probably going stir crazy stuck at home all day long.”

The sigh he got in answer wasn’t exactly encouraging, but that Kallen was also familiar with. Without hockey, life often seemed like a grey stretch of chores ahead of you. And Levy couldn’t even entertain himself with his secondary hobby. Kallen stepped closer and knelt by the alpha’s side, placing his hand on his shoulder.

It got him Levy’s attention at once, the weight of it almost physical, and Kallen inhaled too deeply; green apples and sandalwood and sweat from the interrupted stretching. He’d have to ask Kira if Levy might be overdoing it, he didn’t think Levy should have been sweating from it.

“Sorry, I’m all...”

Kallen frowned at him, already shaking his head. “Nah, just get up. Come on.”

Levy allowed him to help him sit, then gripped Kallen’s forearm hard with his good hand as they manoeuvred him to his feet together. He huffed at the end, grimacing a little. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Kallen told him. “You want a shower before dinner?”

“Dinner?” Levy asked, obviously surprised. “I thought we were going out?”

“We are,” Kallen confirmed. “It’s my turn to impress you with good food.”

He’d kept busy tidying up while Levy showered—he thought his friend’s mood was making it more difficult to put things back where they belonged right away, but he didn’t mind pitching in.

Hearing his name startled him, but Levy’s room wasn’t far. He abandoned the glass he’d been about to take to the kitchen and headed his way, calling out, “You alright?”

But he got there before Levy could answer. His friend was standing by his mirror, wearing what looked like suit pants. He also had on a dress shirt, which was fully open, framing his chest like a work of art.

Kallen jerked his eyes away, feeling his face warm up. God, it’d been weeks, how could he still be such a creep?

“Can you help me with the buttons?” Levy asked, spreading his hands away from his body as if to indicate the problem.

He nodded, stepping closer. “Why are you dressing up?” he asked, mostly to have something besides his hands inches from Levy’s stomach to think about as he started on the tiny buttons. He no longer smelled of sweat, but he still smelled of Levy . It was a stupid thing to notice, especially when he was this close and Levy might be able to smell him . Not that... It wouldn’t matter, as long as Kallen wasn’t in heat, his scent wouldn’t give anything away.

“You’re taking me somewhere nice,” Levy explained, and he was speaking very quietly as if he too was very aware of how close they were. “Least I can do.”

“Who says I’m taking you somewhere nice?” Kallen asked, and it came out a little flat but hey, they were keeping up forms here, and his hands were over Levy’s heart by now. He wasn’t trying to sense how fast it was going—it would have been a lost cause to try and hear it over his own anyway.

Levy’s snort sounded a little breathy. “You saying we are not going out for steak?” he challenged.

Kallen paused and made the mistake of glancing up. Fuck , he thought, gulping hard. Levy was watching him with eyes gone dark, all Kallen would need to do—

He took a stumbling step back, cutting his gaze down. “You are right,” he said. “I should...”

His friend hadn’t called him out on the way he’d fled to the Johnson’s to retrieve his own formal wear and when he’d got back, they’d gone back to normal, chatting about a film they wanted to see and then getting into a good-natured argument about the best steak restaurants in the city.

Kallen had refused to tell him where they were going, intent on keeping him interested in the outing as long as possible, and he’d been pleasantly surprised Levy hadn’t known La Posta.

It’d been a lovely night, with some ribbing but mostly a lot of praise for the steaks and different cuts of meat they were brought to the table.

“Oh god, why didn’t you tell me not to eat today?” Levy had asked at one point, groaning a little.

It’d made Kallen laugh aloud. “My bad, next time I’ll starve you for a couple of days beforehand.”

“Starve me?” Levy asked with a raised eyebrow. “Getting a big head about your skills, are you, mate?”

He wasn’t really, though he was damn proud of what he’d learned. It was difficult not to be with the way Levy looked when he tried his food. And he liked that it was a way to cheer Levy up when he was struggling when little else seemed to help.

That was all.

Kallen shrugged. “Well, I have a good teacher.”