“You’re spoiling me,” Ezra said softly.
“You deserve to be spoiled,” Raum assured him.
And if Ezra felt spoiled by basic affection, he had a feeling the poor man was touch-starved and needed more affection. Which he was happy to provide.
Ezra
Raum was amazing.
His lap was sturdy, warm, and his embrace was strong without being smothering. Ezra usually avoided physical contact with strangers, mostly because it aggravated his sensory issues, though that problem went away after prolonged exposure, but with Raum it seemed the waiting period didn’t apply. He hadn’t felt uncomfortable touching Raum at any point since they met, and Ezra was left marveling at the thought.
“I’ve never sat in someone’s lap before,” Ezra shared.
“Really?” Raum said, running a hand through Ezra’s hair, scratching his scalp. Goddess, it made him want to purr like Lilith. Raum touching him felt incredible.
“It’s true,” Ezra replied, all but limp in Raum’s embrace, fingers playing with the buttons on Raum’s shirt. “Last time was probably one of my nannies as a child.”
“How’re you feeling about it now?” Raum’s voice was warm and slightly teasing, making Ezra grin.
“I love it. Thanks for not pushing me to the floor. It was an impulsive decision.”
“Have more of those around me, please. I like the outcome.”
“Do you have to work or something? I don’t know your schedule, and I’m waiting for your grandfather to get back to me about the skull. I don’t want to take up all your time.”
He really didn’t want Raum to get behind on work or get in trouble for missing classes or…
“Don’t worry about me,” Raum interrupted Ezra’s mental spiraling. “I’m on a post-doc fellowship and I’m nearing the end of my second year here at Edmonton. I teach a few classes a week to a handful of graduate students, and I’ve got office hours twice a week for a few hours. My book is nearly done, and I’m contemplating whether or not to apply for the open tenure-track position here at the university, or shop around for another TT job.”
“Do you have another year left on the fellowship?” Ezra asked. Most post-doc fellowships were either one or three years, and if he was in his second year he likely had another to go.
“Yeah, mine is a three-year post-doc contract. I won’t start looking for another job for several more months; I need to finish my fellowship and get my book published.”
Ezra hummed a bit. “Why are you in the Special Collections room of the library and not with the History Department?” That question had been bothering him for a few days, since he passed out and Raum carried him into his office. His very nice office, in a part of the university that had nothing to do with his department. He knew that librarians usually had offices in the library, and graduate and post-docs rented study spaces, but he’d never heard of anyone having a huge office in a wholly unrelated section of an institution.
Raum stiffened a bit, and Ezra tilted his head back, looking into his face. Raum was staring at him with a contemplative expression.
“What?” Ezra asked.
“I was foolish, I think, in expecting no one to notice,” Raum said, all mysterious.
Ezra grumbled and sat up a bit, the chair creaking a smidge. He held still and the chair didn’t break as he eyed Raum with faint suspicion. “Are you squatting in an unauthorized office?”
“No, not really.” Raum tipped his head back and forth in a so-so motion. “It’s complicated.”
“Now I really want to know.”
“It means getting up,” Raum warned him with a glint in his eyes.
“Ugh.”
Raum laughed, grinning wide, eyes bright with amusement. “I’ll let you sit on me again later.”
“Deal,” Ezra agreed and let Raum help him off his lap.
Raum gestured and Ezra followed him into his office. It was very nice for a post-doc office, more a space Ezra would expect for faculty. Big desk, bookcases, and a huge couch. Full of houseplants, decorations, and artifacts. It was homey and felt like Raum.
Even smelled like him, of wildflowers, cedar, and fresh, clean air.
