***

"Bjorn," Karin looked into the man's office and smiled fawningly, "will you go to lunch?"

The man nodded and asked:

"Did the courier come?"

The secretary shrugged her shoulders.

"I told you I could send the correspondence myself," she reminded grumpily.

"Okay. Send it in the afternoon."

Bjorn got up from his chair, locked the top drawer of his desk, and followed the girl out of the office, thinking about where the damned guy had gone.

In the morning, this walking misunderstanding looked lousy. He might have been unwell from exhaustion, as he slept in the kitchen due to his good nature.

However, the man did not feel remorse for long, because he saw Toby in the cafeteria.

The guy sat in a corner so as not to draw attention to himself, but in fact his wild appearance only attracted the eyes of those around him.

"What do you want to eat?" Karin asked, heading toward the stalls with ready-to-eat food.

"Nothing. Have lunch without me. There's something I have to take care of."

Bjorn left the girl and went to Toby, who was sipping water despondently and staring tiredly straight ahead.

"Why are you in mourning?" the man asked, plopping down in the chair across from the guy. "Are you grieving your dismissal? The papers are ready, by the way. You know, disobeying your boss is no joke."

Herr Dalgaard's voice sounded so sudden that Toby jumped, spilling the water. And when the man spoke of dismissal, he choked on the water and coughed.

"Why?" he asked hoarsely, staring at the boss. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"You didn't come, and I was offended," answered Bjorn, smoothing his hair with his palm and glancing at the glass of water in the guy's hands.

Yesterday he was the only one drinking, then why is the guy thirsty?

"Why aren't you eating lunch? Are you on a diet?"

"I've already eaten," Toby shrugged off the question and added with a frown: "It's a sign of stupidity to fire an employee because of some grudge you have. I don't think you are. Though you are, I'm sorry to say, a lot of foolishness."

"And when did you have time to eat?" the man asked, deliberately ignoring the evaluation the guy gave him. "Are you saying you left the workplace early? Then all the more reason to fire you."

Toby scowled angrily, and Bjorn only shook his head reproachfully, remembering that Toby had almost no money. Only for his commute... And he had no parents to provide for him.

"Stay here." Ordered the man and stood up. "I'll be right back."

To give the guy credit, he tried to stop Bjorn. But if the man had a goal in mind, he went ahead like an armadillo, and he achieved his goal.

Today his plan was to feed the scrawny little man with the sad but very pretty eyes, and not even death could prevent him from this good intention.

He put two large plates on a tray and filled them with food, adding whatever he found appetizing. And, after ordering two cups of coffee, he headed to Toby's place with his booty.

The man was almost to the table when someone called out to him. He looked back and winked at the pretty saleswoman with whom he'd had a good time last weekend. And when the girl gestured to him to call him, Bjorn lost all his vigilance and tripped over a chair that suddenly appeared in his way.

He saved the food by holding the tray in the palm of his hand, but was heroically wounded in the chest by hot coffee spilling out of the cup.

"Damn it!" Bjorn cursed, and looked at the hopelessly ruined shirt.

Toby, unable to help himself, chuckled, and the man, putting the food on the table, snapped at him, but almost without malice:

"It's all because of you, you stupid head. If you had come to my office like I asked, this wouldn't have happened."

Toby was heartily amused by the man's clumsiness, but he stopped giggling.

"What does that have to do with me?" he asked indignantly. "You're the one who doesn't watch your step. So if you have any complaints, address them to the one who taught you to walk. He clearly failed in his task."

The man glared at him angrily, and Toby looked away.

The smells of the food brought by the boss tantalized Toby's stomach, making him growl and demand something more substantial than a bun.

"Why did you decide to have lunch with me? So you'd have someone to blame it on in case you choked?" he asked sullenly, and threw the plastic cup into the garbage can. "There's a girl waiting for you, go to her."

"What girl?" Bjorn raised his eyebrow.

Toby nodded, pointing to the long-legged beauty watching them.

"This one. If you don't hurry, she's sure to sneak off with some bespectacled guy."

"Good riddance," Bjorn said and pushed the tray toward the guy. "Eat. And don't leave a crumb behind."

Toby frowned and pursed his lips.

"I don't need a handout," he answered rather rudely, and then turned away again, now looking out the big wide window. "And I'm not hungry. I've told you before. Thank you, of course, but if you think you owe me one, you needn't."

"Kid, take my word for it, I'll fire you if you don't eat it all, and not even my conscience will bother me," the man said aloof, wiping a coffee stain on his shirt with a napkin. "It's compensation for the fine, that's all. I won't feed you every day."

Tobias squinted incredulously at the plates.

Compensation could probably be accepted. In addition, his stomach was already in full revolt and was demanding its share of goodies.

With a slight frown, Toby pushed the lunch tray toward him and picked up his fork.

"It's just so you don't fire me," he proclaimed and popped a small piece of meat into his mouth, the unsurpassed taste of which brought tears to his eyes.

The guy was no longer formal, and in about five minutes he ate everything the man had brought.

The whole time Toby was eating his food, Bjorn was watching him intently, marveling at how this lad managed to survive in the adult world without adult support at all.

He himself lost parental care when he went to university. But by that time he was on his feet and knew what he wanted out of life. And so his separation from the parental trough was quite painless for him.

This guy, on the other hand, was clearly in the dark about his future, and simply drifted with the current, desperately grasping for any opportunity to make it to land, to a civilized and well-fed life. And this determination to stay afloat, at all costs, earned the man's respect for the young and very hungry creature.

When Toby had finished the last piece of his lunch, Bjorn stood up from the table, clapped the guy on the shoulder, and said in all seriousness:

"I should probably write you some more fines."

"Do you want me to fall off my feet completely?" Toby asked with lazy indignation.

Bjorn only gave a knowing chuckle and then, without another word, walked toward Karin, who was frowning.

He pinched the girl's buttock and whispered a dirty compliment in her ear, for which he received a light slap. And when he looked back at Toby, he caught his odd, hard stare.

With a wink at the sullen guy, Bjorn put his arm around the secretary's waist and led her to the far table, telling her a lewd joke and promising to discuss a dinner menu one of these days.

***

It's been almost a year since Toby started living alone.

During this time, he had learned one simple truth: you can count only on yourself.

People do not really care about the problems and difficulties of others, all that matters is that their own self is doing fine. Not that all the people he encountered on the road of life were like that, but still most did not care.

And certainly Toby did not expect sympathy and understanding from Herr Dalgaard.

The man, however, to the guy's surprise, was not such an asshole. He had a strange affection for Toby that manifested itself in an eagerness to feed the «starving student*».

For the next two weeks, Herr Dalgaard bought Tobias lunch every day, except on weekends, and made sure that he ate every last crumb.

Toby resisted, rejecting the «handouts», but the man continued to threaten him with fines and dismissal, and the guy had to obey.

"You don't have to do that," the guy said, once again trying to stop the «dinner obscenity». "I'm not a stray puppy. Well, really, we're already being stared at."

Bjorn, at that moment admiring the taut ass of the new employee, turned to the guy with a mocking look and raised an eyebrow:

"Staring? Why should they? I just want to feed a stray delivery guy - so what? What do they care?"

"Don't you understand? No one's going to feed a messenger or a secretary for nothing," Toby muttered back. "You'll see, word will get around. Besides, according to my uncle, I'm «sick». And it's a disease he says is contagious. So you're in the risk zone."

"Do you have AIDS?" Bjorn wondered.

Well, that's very possible. The guy looks frail, sickly, and weak.

Skinny arms. Legs like matches. Pale face with dark circles under the eyes. Skinny body.

Poor guy. Now he wanted to feed that «misery» even more badly.

"What are you talking about?!" The guy was indignant. "No! It's just..."

He stopped talking abruptly and looked away, not daring to look the man in the eye. But hiding his «illness» from him was meanness.

"I'm gay. Sooner or later the office will find out. And then your reputation will be shaken."

Bjorn looked at the guy in bewilderment for a few moments, and then laughed.

He's gay! He's a fool, not a gay.

At that age, it is too rash to declare one's preferences so confidently. However, gay or not, the guy wants to eat, and he's scared shitless of losing his job. And, therefore, will continue to eat lunch at the boss's expense. After all, it is the sacred duty of any boss to support students. So the man supports him as best he can.

"What makes you think you're gay?" The man continued the conversation as if nothing had happened, taking a small sip of coffee and biting into his ham and salad sandwich.

Toby snorted mentally.

When the sight of a handsome man's body makes your groin grow hot; when the mere thought of another man's hard cock makes your own organ throb painfully and demandingly; when the sight of handsome, strong hands like Herr Dalgaard's makes you get goose bumps on your back and makes you want desperately to feel their touch and be in their grip, it's very hard to deny that you are gay.

"What a stupid question." The guy muttered. "I can't argue with the truth."

"That's a normal question from an inquisitive person," explained Bjorn. "I don't know what it's like to understand that you're gay. Is it some kind of epiphany? You're sitting in the bathroom, jerking off, looking at pictures in a porn magazine, and suddenly you realizing that your hard-on is not for a busty girl, but for the man from the perfume ad?"

"Almost," Toby chuckled, noting that Herr Dalgaard had almost hit the target. "Only there weren't any busty girls in the magazine to begin with, but there were plenty of dicks of all shapes, colors, and sizes."

"Even so?" Bjorn was surprised.

It was the first time he had ever talked to someone who identifies as gay, and Bjorn was curious to know what goes on in the mind of a man who desires a man.

"So, anyone will do as long as he has a dick?" Bjorn asked, and the guy blushed.

Toby took offense at this wording, even though he knew it was stupid. Most people's idea of gay people was rather strange, and Herr Dalgaard was no exception.

"And for you, anyone will do, if she has a vagina?" The guy replied with a question, staring at the man while biting the metal ring on his lower lip.

"Well," Bjorn laughed, "I like beautiful, well-groomed women with a bright personality. And if every girl on the planet matched that description... then, yes, any girl would do."

Toby looked briefly at the man and stared down at his plate.

"Well, what's your type?" Bjorn asked, sitting back in his chair and gazing at the pale face of the guy with genuine interest.

"I don't know," Toby lied without hesitation.

He didn't want to say that, in fact, the ideal sat next to him and ranted about women. True, the character of the ideal is bad to the point of horror, but on the whole...

"So you lied to me, and anyone will do," Bjorn shrugged. "Or you're lying to yourself, and you haven't really made up your mind about your sexuality yet. If you want, I'll set you up on a date with a girl. See what it's like. And if it's dick you're after, you can find one. There are tits," the man gestured huge boobs, and then showed up his fist, "and between the legs a hand-sized dick."

Toby arched his eyebrow and stared at the man in bewilderment.

"Are you an idiot?" He asked in all seriousness. "Or are you just pretending out of boredom? I'm not going anywhere with you. And I don't need a hand-sized. And," he repeated the man's gesture, showing his chest, "I don't want any of these either."

"Why are you getting all worked up?" the man was surprised. "It was just a suggestion. If you don't want to do it, don't do it."

Bjorn looked at his watch, but it was still half an hour before lunch ended, and he didn't want to quarrel with the guy at all. And yet for some reason he couldn't calm down.

Why didn't Toby want to go anywhere with him? What kind of whim was this?

"Do you have a prejudice against straight people?" Bjorn asked. "It's discrimination, you know, not to go anywhere with me just because we have different outlooks on life. I'd give a lot at your age to have an experienced man introduce me to some gorgeous chicks."

"You're making fun of me. Of course, I don't want to go anywhere with you. What for?" Tobias gazed intently into the man's eyes. "So you could mock me all night, trying to figure out if I've made up my mind? Well, I've made up my mind. I've had time to think and to realize. And I don't need any help with that. Besides, I'm not a farmer to be interested in the hen house. And if you're looking for some fun, you'd better invite your secretary, who, by the way, has been glaring at me with hatred for twenty minutes."

"I don't want to invite her," said Bjorn capriciously. "I'm tired of her. She wags her ass, calls me to dinner, then abruptly changes plans. That's where the real uncertainty. Promises one thing, does another. And we're not even married yet! I'm afraid to imagine what she'll think of herself once she gets what she really wants."

"Maybe all she wants is a little more attention from you. Spanking, pinching and all kinds of vulgarity don't count. Like you said, finding a huge dick isn't the problem. But finding a person is."

Toby tilted his head slightly to his shoulder and put the lettuce poked on his fork into his mouth.

"Have you decided to be a psychologist?" the man sniggered. "Let her transform her bitchiness into humanity first. Then we'll see. And you eat. Don't give me that look. Or do you like me? No, I don't think so. I'm an insolent blackmailer and a drunkard. What kind of «person» am I?"

Bjorn laughed and got up from the table. He squeezed the guy's shoulder with his palm and, saying goodbye, went to the exit.

Karin caught up with him in the dining room doorway.

"I have no plans tonight," she said, smiling nervously. "Will you stop by for dinner?"

"No, I have some things to do." Bjorn rounded his eyes theatrically. "It's very urgent."

"Are you going to get drunk at the bar again?" Karin was indignant. "If you keep this up, you're going to end up alone."

"It's never gonna happen, baby," the man winked. "There's always someone who likes my bank account."

"What an asshole you are," the secretary shook her head.

"At your service."

Bjorn bowed mockingly to the beautiful lady and hurried into his office, whistling a lewd song with a smirk.

The mood was rapidly deteriorating, and the man had no idea why.