Hm. Crane did not seem nearly excited as he might have hoped. The last time Zechariah had bothered with a fellow half-in, half-out of the closet, he had been fucking the whole damned village and ended up choking on rope in the end. His eyes flicked over Crane, openly sizing him up.

Simon had not had a uniform. Was it worth making the same mistake twice if this time, it came in a snazzy outfit? Oh, the decisions!

Zechariah crept up, chest to the back of Crane’s shoulder as he slaved over gloves he would more likely than not just toss.

“As soon as …” you know what you want, he almost said, but then figured he would never see him again, “… you are happy to see me again,” he decided instead.

He took the gloves back and gave them a careless wring between his hands.

“Sometimes, changes leave a mark.”

He pulled them back on with the folder braced in the crook of his arm. He might have made a bit of a face because they were still wet.