Sian Cherry

You didn't mean to spy. But it was late and you forget your keys on your desk. Getting home, tired and ready for something filled with sugar and your warm bed, only to find your pockets empty. So you walked all the way back, cursing yourself under your breath. You swiped in and nodded at the receptionist, rushing to your desk only to pause in the hallway.

He was...dancing.

The janitor, the new one. All tall and wet with lanky legs and that cute smile. The one you had been staring at like a creep for week now. His trolly in front of him, picking up rubbish and mopping floors with these big headphones on.

Humming along to the guitar lines, mumbling out chords and playing his mop handle when it got to a good part.

He was...cute.

Too cute.

And dry, dryer than he had ever been.

Hair actually having some volume to it. A few curls forming around his ears as he shuffled his feet.

So you just...watched.

Tucked in the darkness as he mopped and turned, headphones slipping off and being placed back on. Humming and signing. Your heart fluttering. And it wasn't the first time he had managed to make the butterflies in your stomach awaken.

Sometime he would wave at you on your way home, this big grin on his face, congratulating you on a good job. He remembered you coffee order, reading the messy sharpie on the side of Styrofoam cups from coffee cart guy that came in on Fridays, commenting on how you got something different a few weeks ago and he hoped you liked it. But it wasn't just gestures. It was also him being...him, that got your heart racing just as fast.

The way he stretched his arms after a long day, chest pressed out and back arched. His fingers brushing against yours when you handed over empty packets, so long and slender. Huge against yours. And his suit...that dam wet suit. Clinging to his slender body, cupping him in just the right places to make your mouth water as he wandered through the office.

He was just...perfect.