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Lunch

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"Are you really, really, really sure the window is locked?"

 

Stephen glanced up at the hysterical edge to Jon's voice. "Really really," he said, straightening and hugging the wall from behind as he shuffled back over to the other man.

 

"Did you try breaking it in?"

 

"Shatter-proof, remember?" Stephen reminded him, wincing.

 

"Fuck!"

 

Back at Jon's side, Stephen gripped the man's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Calm down, someone's bound to notice us up here soon. We've been missing for a good fifteen minutes and I at least have a meeting I'm now late for."

 

Jon's arm was shaking in his grip and Stephen tightened it, gently tugging as he slid down the wall to sit on the ledge. Unwilling to try struggling in such a precarious situation, Jon obediently sat next to him.

 

"What the fuck were you doing out here, anyway?" he muttered, pressing against Stephen's side.

 

Smiling wryly, Stephen pointed to a small paper bag sitting on the ledge on the other side of Jon. "Lunch." Poking Jon's shoulder with his free hand, Stephen made grabby motions toward the bag. "Hand it over, I'm still hungry."

 

Grumbling, Jon carefully leaned over enough to snatch up the bag, then shoved it at Stephen. Stephen let go of him to take the bag and rustle through it, pulling out a paper-wrapped sandwich.

 

As Stephen unwrapped the sandwich, Jon suddenly smiled. "Is that a BLT?"

 

"I had a craving," Stephen replied, grinning almost sheepishly.

 

Jon opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a gurgle from his stomach. Snickering, Stephen handed over half the sandwich and opened the bag further to reveal the wedge fries inside. Jon took the sandwich gratefully and stole a few fries from the bag.

 

"You know, if you wanted me all to yourself for lunch, you could've just said," Stephen teased.

 

Smiling reluctantly, Jon flicked the man's leg and stole some more fries.