#protecc writes

The elevator stopped on floor twenty-three, the top floor.

“Where are we going, the roof?” Anders joked mildly, following Fenris out of the elevator and trying not to stare at the luxurious carpet that padded the foyer. Three doors led off of the landing, each numbered.

“Fuck, this is a penthouse, isn’t it?” Anders muttered. “And my boots are muddy.”

“It’s no matter,” Fenris said, turning the key in the lock and pushing open the door.

Anders trailed after him, bending to pull off his boots just inside, despite Fenris’ insistence that he needn’t bother.

The entryway was dimly lit by a small light that Fenris had flicked on, but from what Anders could see, everything in the spacious apartment was luxurious and elegant, if somewhat sparse. Fenris stood watching him, lit by the overhead light and framed by a wall of floor to ceiling windows looking over the blinking city.

Anders straightened, eyes widening as he walked towards the windows to look out. The room containing them was a large bedroom with a plush king-sized bed. The floor was smooth wood, and Anders’ feet drifted onto a plush rug, where he stopped and stood staring out the window.

“I am fond of the view,” Fenris murmured, coming to stand beside him.

“I’ve never seen Kirkwall like this,” Anders said. From behind the glass, the city was only a distant hum.

Fenris turned and vanished from Anders’ periphery. A light flicked on and Anders finally tore his eyes away to look. The light came from a doorway that led into a blindingly white bathroom. A large mirror on the opposite wall reflected Fenris, bending to open a drawer.

Knowing that he needed to treat the scrape on his temple and his split knuckles, Anders left the window and joined Fenris.

“Find anything?” He asked.

“There are some first aid items here,” Fenris said, pulling out a small bottle of antibiotic cream and a box of bandages.

“I can take care of it,” Anders said.

“That won’t be necessary,” Fenris said. He pulled Anders towards the porcelain toilet and sat him down on the lid. He pushed aside the wet hair to look at the injury. He silently dabbed antibiotic cream onto a cotton ball and smoothed it across Anders’ temple. “There,” he pressed the bandage to the wound. Anders picked up the cotton ball and rubbed it across his bloody knuckles.

“There is a second bedroom,” Fenris offered. “It would be best if you spent the night. It is too late for you to walk home.”

“Ah-alright,” Anders said.

“I apologize that it is a small space,” Fenris said, glancing towards the ground. “It was formerly my room.”

Anders kept his expression neutral, but his mind started racing. He could only imagine what Fenris had been like when he lived here with his abusive step-father.

“If you prefer, you can sleep in the master bedroom,” Fenris offered.

“Oh, no, the other will be great!” Anders said, smiling. “I appreciate the offer.”

“If you insist,” Fenris said, always obliging. He disappeared into the bedroom as Anders leaned in to look in the mirror, tugging at the bandage on his head. It had hurt, but it was more than worth it taking a punch when the cause was standing up to someone trying to insult Fenris. And Anders had given back just as good, as his split knuckles were proof. He grinned in the mirror, damp hair hanging around his face. More than worth it.

“I found some things that may fit you,” Fenris said, placing a couple neatly folded clothing articles on the counter top. “So you can change out of your wet clothes.”

“Thanks.”

Fenris withdrew, closing the door so Anders could change. The warm sweats and loose tee shirt fit better than Anders had expected—most likely they had belonged to someone other than Fenris. He opened the door and yawned, his eyes once again drawn to the large windows.

“I feel guilty to rob you of the view,” Fenris said apologetically. He had changed as well, into plaid bottoms and a black tee.

“I’ll sleep better without the sun coming in on me when I wake up,” Anders said, waving his hand.

“If you say so,” Fenris said, moving to show Anders the door leading into the spare bedroom. The room was hardly larger than the bathroom had been, a long bed with a worn grey cover crammed against one wall. Fenris flicked on a lamp that sat on the shelf that was a part of the headboard above the bed.

“If you are uncomfortable here, please let me know,” he said, eyeing Anders’ height nervously, trying to measure him against the length of the bed.

“Don’t worry,” Anders said. “I’ll sleep like a baby.” He sat down on the bed and smoothed the sheet.

“I shall simply be in the next room, then,” Fenris said. “Good night, Anders.”

Anders looked up and caught Fenris’ gaze. Anders, he called me Anders. Fenris’ teeth caught at his lip, but he held Anders’ gaze deliberately.

“Good night, Fenris,” Anders said. And the elf turned out the light and slipped into the darkness of the master bedroom.

Anders turned to examine his accommodations. It was a barren room, the furnishings minimal and significantly less fine than those in the rest of the penthouse apartment. The headboard was odd, it seemed thick, as if there was a cavity in it, but when Anders felt the paneling, it didn’t seem to move. A moment of magic, and he found a spell sealing it, which was old and easily broken. He hesitated. What if there was something inside this space that he shouldn’t see?

Anders’ curiosity got the best of him. The panel slid to the side to reveal a small open space. It was nearly empty, there was only a small plush animal, a thick and stubby pencil, and an old, worn notebook. Anders touched the plush. It was smooth, the fabric worn thin in several places. He didn’t want to pry, but Anders had to peek inside the notebook. Just the first page, to see if he could confirm who it belonged to.

The first page was smudged in places, and adorned with small childish drawings. The subject matter appeared to be birds. And scattered across the page, in shaky handwriting, was the capital letter ‘L,’ repeated over and over. It made little sense to Anders, so he replaced the notebook and closed the cabinet, turning out the light, and soon falling asleep.

He slept peacefully, and woke confused. He was in a small room, curled up on a narrow but comfortable bed. His jaw ached, and Anders remembered the fight, and Fenris walking him to his place, and everything else. He gingerly touched a finger to the bandage on his head. All of that had happened. He had as good as said that he liked Fenris, and perhaps even beyond friendship, which was itself only a tentative thing between them. A wonder that Fenris hadn’t rejected the declaration outright, probably finding it too ridiculous.

Anders wasn’t allowed much time to think. Soon, he could smell the fragrance of food cooking. Following his nose, he found Fenris in the apartment’s kitchen. Despite being a bit small, the kitchen felt much larger. There was a moment when they regarded each other, unsure where they stood today.

“Sleep well?” Fenris finally asked.

“Mm,” Anders hummed, coming to stand next to the elf and look at what he was making. Eggs, with cheese and bits of meat. “Smells good,” he said.

Now it was Fenris’ turn to hum.

“I hope you like it,” he said.

“Fenris…” Fenris looked at him, thoughtful.

“I know this is a bit sudden and ridiculous,” Anders said, “but would you want to start seeing each other?”

Fenris didn’t look disgusted, nor throw him out immediately, so Anders counted his question as successful. He didn’t expect Fenris’ response, which came much quicker than Anders would have supposed.

“I think I should like that,” Fenris’ voice was hardly above a whisper, and his ears flushed a sweet, soft pink.

“Wait, really?”

“I suppose you had not noticed any of the hints I tried to drop,” Fenris said, smiling ruefully.

“I’m afraid not,” Anders said.

“Then I shall have to speak more plainly,” Fenris said. He was suddenly facing Anders, tugging him down, closer to those wide, green eyes.

Fenris paused for a moment to give Anders agency to decide whether to stay or to pull away. Anders stayed, and leaned in. Fenris met him, soft lips only brushing his gently, like a feather, before Fenris pulled back again. The rosy blush had rapidly spread from his ears across his cheeks. He looked quickly back at the food, scraping at the eggs in the pan.

“Fenris?”

Fenris hummed, but didn’t dare look at Anders.

After several minutes of laying in bed, he heard the cat meow in the other room. Wait. Cat?!  Anders sat up, brows furrowing. He blinked back sudden tears. He put down Pounce several weeks ago. He didn’t have a cat anymore. He must simply be hearing things. He collapsed back and flipped over to bury his face in his pillow. All the calm he’d been feeling from the restful sleep was gone now as he trembled and tried not to sob into his pillow.

He heard another meow, and stopped crying, holding his breath. As he pushed himself up from his pillow, the bed dipped. A grey shorthair sat down and regarded him.

“Excuse me?” Anders said, sniffling. “Who are you?”

The cat just stared at him.

“How did you get in?” Anders asked, confused, as if the cat would answer him. He reached a hand out cautiously, and the cat immediately pressed its head into his hand. “You’re very friendly. And well-fed.” He ran his hand down the cat’s back. “Your fur is soft too. You’re not a stray, are you?”

Concerned at having a strange cat in his apartment, Anders got up and wandered into the other room. Pounce’s food bowl still sat in the hall, and there was still some food in it.

“I’ve been putting out food before bed without realizing, haven’t I?” Anders mumbled, opening the bin next to the bowl. He still had plenty of cat food left. And the water bowl was full as well.

The cat followed him as Anders shuffled into the kitchen to find himself something to eat. Only when he opened the refrigerator, he found he was out of both milk and eggs.

Anders groaned and pulled his hair up out of his face. "I have to go out anyway," he said. "I'll check with the office to see if anyone has reported a missing cat. The only explanation he could think of was that the cat had followed him in after work, or come in when he stepped outside after getting home for some fresh air. He did that often enough.

The first thing he saw when he opened his front door was a sheet of paper, tacked up immediately opposite his door.

"Missing cat, belongs to the resident of Apt 113. Grey male." And there was a picture.

"Hey, that's him," Anders said. "He didn't go far." He glanced at the apartment next to his, number 113. He'd never met the person who lived there, but they were in luck. Their cat was just next door. He plucked the poster from the wall and shoved it in his back pocket. He’d contact his neighbor when he got back from the supermarket and had his morning coffee.

When Anders returned home, he was surprised to see another poster already tacked up on the wall across from his door. He juggled his groceries onto one arm and unlocked his apartment. As soon as he opened it, he saw another copy of the poster on the floor just inside.

“Alright, alright, I’m getting there,” he muttered. “Someone really wants their cat back.” Of course, if it had been his cat, Anders would have been knocking on all his neighbors’ doors, so he didn’t blame his neighbor for sliding posters under people’s doors, hoping to find their cat.

The cat in question seemed unbothered.

“I don’t understand why you aren’t trying to get home,” Anders said to the cat. He put his food away and pulled out his phone, dialing the number printed on the poster.

“Hello?” He said, as soon as the person picked up. “This is your neighbor. I found your missing cat.”

“I know.”

“I live right—wait, what?”

“I saw him in your window.” Anders’ brain was short-circuiting. His neighbor had a voice so casually sultry, it should be illegal. And he was looking in Anders’ apartment?

“Ah, I think he must have followed me in,” Anders said. “I only just realized he was here this morning.”

“It has been three days.”

“Maker…” Anders muttered. “I’m surprised you didn’t come knocking on my door. When...are you free to meet up now? I’m not sure if—what’s your cat’s name?”

“His name is Greypaw. I will come over.”

Anders smiled. This man’s voice was lovely. The call disconnected and Anders blinked at his phone. Wait, he hadn’t mentioned which apartment he lived in. He was about to redial the number when there was an insistent knock at his door.

Anders went to the door and opened it to be greeted by a handsome elf with piercing green eyes, his face framed with soft white hair.

“H-hello,” Anders stammered.

“May I come in?”

“Oh. Of course.” Anders stepped back, gesturing to allow the elf inside. “Ah, my name is Anders.”

“Fenris.” The elf went to crouch next to his cat, who was sitting comfortably on Anders’ kitchen rug. Fenris. Anders liked the name.

“Has he caused any trouble with your cat?” Fenris asked, turning to look back at Anders.

“My cat?”

“I have seen your cat at the window before,” Fenris said. “An orange cat, correct?”

“Ah. Pounce. I put him down a couple weeks ago…”

Fenris scooped Greypaw up in his arms and turned to Anders. The cat was surprisingly content to be flopped onto his back and cradled to the elf’s chest. Anders felt a tightness in his throat.

“I did not realize…”

Anders chuckled.

“You couldn’t have known,” he said.

Fenris came to stand beside him. Anders unconsciously reached to pet the cat as he looked into the man’s face. Greypaw leaned eagerly into Anders’ hand. Fenris’ expression was difficult to read.

“You miss your cat,”  Fenris said.

“Pounce was very important to me.”

“Greypaw likes you.”

“He’s a beautiful cat.”

“He does not like people generally,” Fenris said. “This is why I thought that something must have happened to him.”

“I think I would have noticed if he was desperate to get out,” Anders offered, unsure why the man hadn’t already left. Fenris didn’t seem put off by the fact that Anders had held his cat captive for several days. “I work long hours, and I’ve been getting home late all week.”

“I noticed.”

“Should I be worried at how much you know about me?” Anders asked, grinning nervously.

“I take walks along the walking path behind our building several times a day sometimes,” Fenris said. “I think your cat liked to watch me. Sometimes I would come up to your window and talk to him.” Was Fenris...blushing? “He would put his paw over my hand.”

Anders felt his eyes starting to tear up, hearing Fenris talk so tenderly about Pounce.

“Would you like to come and visit Greypaw?” Fenris asked him. “I am home in the evenings, you would be welcome to come and see him after your shift.”

“A-are you sure? I get home late sometimes.”

“Yes, I know,” Fenris said. “I don’t mind.”

“Then...may I text you?”

“You have my number now,” Fenris said. “Please do. I would prefer to know who is knocking on my door.”

“Right. I apologize again for—”

“Greypaw seemed to know that you needed the company,” Fenris said, turning to the door. Anders could have sworn the cat was grinning back at him. “I shall speak to you soon, then.”

“Yeah.”

And the elf was gone. Anders still held his coffee in one hand. Had Fenris been...flirting with him? Or perhaps Anders had imagined the entire exchange. He pulled out his phone and added the most recent call as a contact. He then started a new message to “Fenris ♥” before he could change his mind.

Anders: I have tomorrow off work, are you free mornings?

A minute later, he received a reply.

Fenris ♥: Tomorrow I am.

Anders: Coffee?

Two weeks later, it was clear that Anders was still the “nerd” to everyone else. His longer hair had been the butt of a few jokes, but not as many as he’d feared. The new guy, whose name was Fenris, was gorgeous, and Anders was smitten. Fenris had quickly become popular among Anders’ classmates though, and Anders hadn’t said much more than ‘hi’ to him. Fenris was not very talkative, and seemed more to put up with people crowding around him than enjoy being the center of attention.

By the time their first set of big tests came around, Anders had a routine of being mostly ignored during the day, teased a bit during lunch and in the halls, and then retreating to the library for his study hour to hide and work on his homework before heading home.

He was surprised one day to find his usual library place occupied, and by Fenris, no less.

“F-Fenris, hi,” Anders said, startled to see the popular kid sitting here alone in his alcove.

“Anders,” Fenris said. He had a couple textbooks on the small table, and a second chair was pulled up next to him.

Anders was about ready to turn and go, but something kept him from running immediately.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Fenris said. Was he… blushing?

“Sure.”

“I wanted to ask for your help,” Fenris said.

“With?”

“Studying.”

“I mean, I can try to help,” Anders said, dropping his bag on the table. “Anything in particular?”

“I am most worried about our literature test,” Fenris admitted.

“English? You read the books right?” Anders asked, dropping into the empty chair.

“To be honest, not really,” Fenris said. “English is not my… first language.”

“Wait, really? Where are you from?”

“I was raised in Tevinter,” Fenris said. “I can read English, but not very well yet.”

“Well, I guess we can review the books we’ve read so far,” Anders said. He pulled a strand of hair out of his face, nervously tucking it behind one ear. “It might take a while, though. I tend to talk too much about books.”

“I don’t mind,” Fenris said. “Perhaps we could meet after school, as well, to study.”

“Y-yeah, we could do that,” Anders said. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Fenris, the hot popular new kid, was talking to him, and had sought him out in his hideout to ask him for help.

“We could meet at the all-night diner?” Fenris offered. “The food is pretty cheap, and we can stay late if we need.”

Anders had a dream. It was a stupid dream. A silly daydream, rather. Of having a late-night date at the Hanged Man diner.

“I would love that,” he said, unable to hide the blush that was rushing across his face.

Fenris smiled at him, oh Maker that smile, and pushed aside his physics textbook to open their English textbook.

“May as well get started now, though, right?” He said. “Perhaps we can read together as well? I am slow, but perhaps you can help me?” The cautious hope in Fenris’ eyes made Anders’ heart skip a beat.

“Oh, oh yes, of course,” Anders stammered. “Let me get out some paper and write out all the books we need to review first.”

“Thank you, Anders,” Fenris said, offering his pencil to Anders before he had a chance to dig through his backpack for one. “I am not sure why, but I feel like I can trust you. You actually seem to listen when someone talks to you.”

“I… thanks,” Anders said. “I like listening to you.”

Fenris laughed softly at that, and Anders thought he might just swoon a little. His laugh was just so smooth and melty.

“You alright?” Fenris asked. “You seem a little tongue-tied.”

“I was a bit surprised you came to talk to me,” Anders admitted. “Most people just make fun of me.”

“Most people are boring,” Fenris said, shrugging. “I like you, you’re smart, and you don’t care what they think.”

“Well, you’re smart too,” Anders said, regaining a little confidence. “I’m glad you came to talk to me.”

“Me too,” Fenris said, flashing Anders another smile as he pushed his textbook between them.

“I thought you were going to rip my heart out,” Anders admitted, shifting so he could flop an arm over Fenris’ shoulder.

“I must have still been in shock from the accident,” Fenris said, reaching for his wine. “In my right mind, I think I would have.”

“I’m doubly lucky, then,” Anders said. “You didn’t kill me, and I got a date out of the deal.”

“If I remember correctly, the date was rather ill-gotten.”

“It was only a small stretch of the truth,” Anders said. “I’ve exchanged numbers with patients before when I was really worried about them.”

“And you were worried about Fenris?” Isabela asked.

“I was worried...that I’d never see him again,” Anders said, rolling his head so he could look over at Fenris.

Fenris snorted, but a faint blush was visible on his dark cheeks.

“Did you ever give him his thorough in-home checkup?” Isabela asked, which only made Fenris blush harder.

Anders hummed dramatically. “I think we may be due for another one soon, don’t think think, Fen?”

Fenris grasped at his wine, nearly spilling some in his hurry to bring it to his lips and hide his face behind the glass.

“Did I tell you the story of how Merrill and Isabela met?” Anders asked Fenris, who shook his head, still savoring his last sip of wine. “It’s adorable,” Anders assured him.

“It was my Life Drawing class,” Merrill said, eager to help tell the story. “We were having a live model come in!”

“I do that now and then,” Isabela said, “I mean, a body like this, I get to be a little bit proud of it.”

“I kept dropping my pencil!” Merrill said, grinning brightly. “And I think my face was turning bright red!”

“You really did look like a blooming flower,” Isabela said. “And your portrait was still the best of all of them.”

Now Merrill was blushing as well, but she made no attempt to hide it.

“Who made the moves?” Anders asked.

“I bet it was Merrill,” Fenris said.

“Yes!” Merrill said, grinning. “I asked her if I could meet up with her again to finish my drawing!”

“Very clever, kitten,” Isabela said. “I thought you were serious, too.”

“Well, I sort of intended to work on it more later,” Merrill said, “but I guess we just got talking every time we met up.” Isabela laughed and pulled Merrill in for a quick kiss.

“Don’t I get a kiss too?” Anders asked Fenris, pouting.

Fenris turned to him, smirked, and kissed the tip of his nose. “How about when we get home?” He said, and continued in a whisper, “while you give me that inspection you promised.”

Anders swallowed the rest of his beer and set the bottle down with finality.

“I think I’ve had enough to drink,” he said. “Anyone mind if I go pay up?”

“Go right ahead,” Isabela said. “Kitten and I have a date down on the beach after this.”

“We’re going skinny dipping!” Merrill whispered dramatically. “Do you two want to come?”

“Kitten!”

“I think our plans are best conducted inside,” Fenris said, as Anders was already on the way to the bar. “But thank you. I think Anders would like that another time.”

“Next time it’s our treat,” Isabela said, draping Merrill’s sweater over her shoulders for her. “And don’t let Anders drive.”

“Do not worry,” Fenris said. “He is a doctor, and would never let anyone drive in an intoxicated state, especially not himself. I already took the keys from his pocket anyway.”

“Fenris! I think I lost my keys!” Anders came running back, wide-eyed. Fenris simply held up the key ring and grinned.

“Where you going?” Anders called across the room to where Fenris was slipping his feet into his worn flip-flops.

“Supermarket,” Fenris replied. 

“You’re walking to the supermarket?”

“I was not about to try to beg another ride off of you,” Fenris said, pulling up the hood of his dark sweatshirt.

He and Anders didn’t get along terribly well all the time, but they shared the small living space, and Anders had come to rather enjoy having company. Sure, Anders had been a bit grouchy last time Fenris had asked him for a ride, but it had been raining all day.

Anders stood up, cookie crumbs falling from his lap.

“Just a minute, it’s pouring out there!”

“So?”

“You’ll get sick if you walk to the store and back in this,” Anders said. “You’ll be soaked through before you get halfway there.”

Fenris grabbed his house key and shrugged.

Anders’s mouth pulled into a grimace. Why did he care? Fenris was a grumpy asshole. Fenris opened the door and headed out.

Okay, he wasn’t an asshole.

“Fenris, wait,” Anders called, brushing crumbs from his sweatpants. “I’ll drive you.”

Fenris looked back, one hand on the door handle.

“I mean it,” Anders said. He hurried to slip on a pair of shoes and pulled his hair back. Fenris stood in the doorway and watched, his expression unreadable.

Anders grabbed his own keys and followed Fenris out the door.

“I need to pick up some more eggs anyway,” Anders lied, slipping into the driver’s seat. Why was he doing this? If Hawke knew, he would tease him no end. He frowned. Why should Hawke care? They were only pretending to be dating to appease the pesky line in Anders’s contract requiring any roommate he added to the lease to be in a relationship with him. Why should the landlord care if Anders wanted to live with someone he wasn’t interested in? He frowned even more. What if he was interested in Fenris? Fenris probably hated his guts, there was no way it would work.

“You didn’t have to drive me if it upsets you so much,” Fenris said. Anders’s frown disappeared immediately.

“It’s not driving you that upset me,” he said, and actually sounded apologetic. It certainly wasn’t Fenris’s fault that he’d ended up with Anders. When Hawke offered to help him get on his feet, Anders had been the only one of them with a spare bedroom. Fenris worked, he paid his share, he actually did more than his share of chores. Anders had meant to speak to him about that… But maybe not tonight. He parked close to the supermarket.

“You’re not coming in?” Fenris asked, confused, when Anders didn’t release his safety belt.

“I’ll wait here,” Anders said. “I got eggs yesterday.”

Fenris closed the car door and disappeared inside. He must have hurried to get his shopping done. He reappeared sooner than Anders had expected.

“Got everything?” Anders asked, starting the car and turning on the windshield wipers. The lights of the store sign and the parking lot streetlights smeared across the windshield and illuminated his hands on the steering wheel in eerie shades of red and orange.

“Mmhmm.” Fenris buckled in, and clutched the paper bag in his lap.

Once home, Anders set to tidying up the small disaster he’d made of the couch and TV stand while Fenris put away his groceries in the lower cupboard reserved for his groceries.

Anders came into the kitchen and dumped the empty cookie container in the trash, then set his favorite mug in the sink to wash later. He turned around to get out of the small kitchen, only to meet Fenris standing right behind him. The elf shoved a package into his hands. Anders looked down, startled. It was a little cake, from the bakery. Something from that glass case that Anders never looked at because the sweets were overpriced, though he knew they were delicious. It was chocolate, and shaped like a sleeping cat, down to little chocolate ears and white frosting whiskers.

“Fenris? What’s this?”

“I wanted to thank you,” Fenris said.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Anders stammered. Fenris could probably tell that he was blushing. He’d never had a roommate thank him with food so cute. “It’s too adorable to eat.”

“Well, if you don’t want it, I will eat it,” Fenris said, smirking and reaching as if to take the cake back. That little smirk was the closest Fenris usually got to a smile, and it had been wearing Anders down for months now. Inch by inch, he was getting comfortable with his roommate. He grabbed Fenris’s hand and raised it to kiss his fingers gently.

“No one’s watching,” Fenris huffed, going to pull his hand away. “You don’t have to pretend we’re together.” Anders held on.

“I know.” He smiled. “What if we weren’t pretending anymore?”

“I thought you wanted your extra bedroom back,” Fenris said.

“I might have lied,” Anders admitted. “I know this relationship thing has been fake, but it doesn’t have to be… if you want.”

“It won’t be any different, you know,” Fenris said.

“Well, we could hold hands at home,” Anders said. “For starters. And kiss... If you want.”

Fenris smiled. “Only if you mean it.”

Fueled by the delicious smell of garlic coming in through his window, Anders mixed up a batch of chocolate chip cookies. They weren’t just any cookies. They were his amazing chocolate delight cookies, with a dash of sea salt added just before he put them in the oven, so they had that delicious salty sweet flavor. He pulled them out before they got brown on the edges so they would be soft and perfect. A taste test proved that they were. Perfect, Anders thought, smugly.

Now that it came down to it, he felt petty and somewhat nervous going to knock on his neighbor’s door. But he filled a plate with warm cookies and ran into the bathroom to make sure his hair was in order. He put on some deodorant and a fresh shirt with his nice jeans and sneakers, turned off the oven, and headed out with his plate of cookies.

He knew exactly which door it was, the apartment just beneath his, a quick trot down the stairs and he was standing in front of Number 32. The smell of food had faded a bit, so whoever was inside was probably eating, or had just finished. Anders felt a bit bashful, but he knocked anyway.

There was a long pause.

And then the door opened. Anders stared for a moment. The elf who opened the door was one of the most beautiful people he’d ever seen. White hair, smooth olive skin with pale tattoos down his bare arms, and stunning green eyes. He looked at Anders with baffled confusion.

“‘I do not remember ordering anything,” the elf said, glancing at the plate in Anders’ hands.

“Oh.”

Anders held the plate out.

“I live above you,” he said. “I have been smelling the food you’ve been cooking and…” He realized that perhaps he would sound upset. “It smells really good. I thought I’d…bring you something.”

“You want some?” The elf asked. A bit blunt, perhaps, but Anders did want to sample it.

“I—well— only if you have extra.”

“Come in then.” 

“Come in?” Anders swallowed nervously, clutching the plate of cookies.

“You would like some food, yes?” The elf quirked an eyebrow back at him and Anders lurched into motion.

“Yes,” he squeaked. “Thank you.”

“I have more than I can eat,” the elf said, taking a plate from his cupboard and scooping up some of the fragrant food on his stove for Anders.

Anders stood awkwardly waiting, and then handed over the plate of cookies when the elf slid the food onto the small dining table tucked in the corner.

“I hope you aren’t allergic,” Anders said, dropping into the chair beside the food.

“Not at all. I am Fenris, by the way. You are?”

“Anders. Nurse, magic-user, and cat-lover,” Anders said. Best to get the important facts out of the way first.

“A mage?”

“We’ve been called that, yeah,” Anders said, taking a bite. “Oh, this is heavenly. Even better than it smells.” He waved his fork at Fenris. “And that’s saying something.”

The elf snorted a laugh.

“You are not what I would have expected a mage to be like.”

“We’re not all dismal, stuffy folks,” Anders said, shrugging. “I mostly use mine at the hospital to help when we’re short on doctors. Which is… always.”

“I see.”

Anders watched as Fenris finally picked up a cookie.

“They are very warm,” he said, a bit surprised.

“They just came out of the oven.”

“I suppose,” Fenris said. “Not magic then.”

“Not magic.”

Fenris set the plate between them and took the second seat at the table. “I do not think I have ever had a warm cookie.”

“Wait,” Anders frowned at him. “Never?”

“Not that I can remember, at least.” Fenris took a bite. His eyes widened.

“Good?”

Fenris quickly ate the rest of the cookie in a single bite, licking his finger where some melting chocolate had touched it.

“They’re my chocolate delight cookies,” Anders said proudly. “With sea salt.”

“Is it important that it is from the sea?” Fenris asked, his brows furrowing. “I could taste the salt.”

“That’s my special trick to bring out the salt flavor,” Anders said, “but it’s more the size of the salt flakes than where it comes from. Sea salt just sounds fancy.”

“You are welcome to bring these cookies at any time,” Fenris said, reaching for another. “I do not know how to bake, but perhaps I should learn, if it can taste this delightful.”

“Oh, I can make many delightful things,” Anders said, unable to contain his grin. “Would you like to try some other treats sometime?”

“If you will accept some food in return,” Fenris said. “I think this would be an acceptable trade.”

“Oh, I think I’m getting the better end of the deal,” Anders said, “but I would love to.”

“Next week?” Fenris offered. “Tuesday?”