Troy came in with a mobile tray filled with food. Gun turned to him and smiled on the outside, but on the inside, his soul left his body already. Especially when King’s frown deepened and the anger in his eyes escalated.

Gun stood up and walked to the brown couch behind the coffee table. He sat down and looked at King, who was still sitting and glaring at him, and asked, “Will you not join me? And I hope you like Italian.”

King looked at Troy, who was just smiling, and showed him to the couch as well.

King got up and took off his jacket. He chucked it against the chair and stalked over. Gun quickly moved up, making space for him, but it looked like he wanted to run away.

King smirked at his reaction and composed himself. It seemed like he still had some control left in his office, to think he was letting Gun’s appearance make him falter. This short, petite man ruin his mood.

Gun didn’t even want to eat. He was so close to him and his smell, it was intoxicating. Gun forced a smile, saying, “Enjoy.”

“After you,” King said, showing him the plates.

Gun picked up a plate of carbonara and started eating. He didn’t even look at King when he picked up the plate of spaghetti and meatballs. The food was delicious. It would have been better if he was not so nervous.

*

“So tell me about yourself,” he blurted. The silence was insufferable right now.

King looked at him as he turned to him and said, “Well, you should already know about me. You are the one who arranged this appointment.”

Gun chuckled, hiding his smile behind his hand asking, “Is that so? Would you believe me if I told you I know nothing?”

“Then why are you here?” He asked, frowning.

Gun shrugged, turning his head away while he held his smile. Looking down at the plate in his hand, he said, “I don’t know, actually. All of this is a surprise to me, but I’m having fun, I guess. I saw you in the lobby if that counts, so we can’t say I’ve never met or seen you before.”

Gun turned to him, saying, “Don’t eat all of that though. I want to taste it as well. I don’t know why he didn’t order two of each.”

He looked at Troy asking, “Speaking of which, is there dessert?”

“There is!” Troy said giddy.

This was going so well, he didn’t expect Gun to be so open and even if King wasn’t happy right now, but he was eating with a stranger. Something he never does unless he is in control of what is going to be eaten.

King looked at his plate. “You have your own.”

“What did I just say?” Gun suddenly snapped. He held a glare asking, “Should I repeat myself? And it’s not like I will not keep for you too.”

He turned back to his food, making a tsking sound, sounding annoyed. King grew annoyed too. Never, and I mean never, has anyone disrespected him or reprimanded him and got away with it.

He placed the plate down and turned to Gun. He opened his mouth, about to say something when Gun placed his plate on his lap. “You have food on your mouth.”

He mumbled and reached to wipe it off from the corner of his mouth. His finger with the sauce moved to his mouth, licking it clean, and he picked up King’s spaghetti and started eating.

The four extras in the room looked away, astounded. King was stunned. WHO THE HELL WAS THIS PERSON!

He looked at his employees and saw that they weren’t looking at them. As if giving them privacy. Were they behind this?

*

King walked Gun out of the building with his henchmen behind him. Gun was in between them and he couldn’t stop looking back at Troy, who was avoiding him. He saw that the other three had smirks on their faces, figuring that they were on to what was happening.

They stopped on the first step. King turned to him asking, “Where is your car?”

Gun smiled at him. He was about to say that he had arrived with a cab when Troy jumped in, saying, “I will take him home, sir. His driver called in sick.”

Gun looked at him and immediately King picked up that it was a lie. He took in a deep breath, saying, “Fine, see that he arrives home safely and come see me immediately when you return.”

“No, that’s fine. I want to go for a walk,” Gun interrupted. He turned to King with a smile, but then frowned. “What’s that on your face?”

King started touching his face and looked at Troy, who was staring at him, confused. He looked down at Gun, who was staring at him. “Come here, let me remove it,” he said.

King lowered his face slowly. Gun stood on his toes just as he came closer and placed a kiss on his cheek.

The henchmen stepped back, surprised and so did Gun, who wanted to get away from King. He winked at Troy and said, “I guess I’ll be off now.”

Troy nodded his head as he blushed. He walked off with a bounce in his steps, moving elegantly. King looked at him,  taken aback.

After he was out of sight, he looked around and saw that he had many eyes on him and yelled, “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT? GET BACK TO WORK!”

*

Gun caught a cab and sighed, relieved. Looking at his phone, he went through the notifications and his eyes widened, surprised. Troy had sent him more than he was promised. Five thousand dollars to his account that was linked with his phone number.

He shuddered thinking about this and saw a second message: The money is for doing a good job. Thank you so much.