The Mansion of Men

Workplace shipping

"I'm so tired of it."

"It's none of our business."

"I think it's sad.

"Just look at them," Tankhun said, frowning and leaning on Pete

"I am looking," Porsche said, squinting. "Which is why it's hurting my eyes."

Porsche, Pete and Tankhun were sitting in a row, on Kinn's sofa, watching Pol and Arm, who were standing outside Kinn's room. Arm was saying something that had Pol gigging and leaning in and almost standing on top of Arm. Arm's ears were red. Even from this distance, everyone could see them.

"Personally, I say we leave them alone."

"It's been like this for years, Porsche," Tankhun said, crossing his leg in irritation. "I can't take it anymore."

"Worry about your own love life."

"My love life is fine," Tankhun said, his voice high-pitched and guilty.

Porsche got up from the sofa and went in search of a drink.

"What if we lock them in a room and see what happens?" Pete suggested.

"That may have worked for you..." Porsche started to say.

"Go on," Pete said, looking back at Porsche. "Finish that sentence so that we can talk about how you shouldn't have been drinking on the job."

Porsche rolled his eyes as he sipped his drink.

"Or we could just steal a page from the site, organize a sex party, invite them both and set them in the mood," Kinn said, from where he was reading in the corner.

"Oh my god," Tankhun screamed, jumping to his feet.

"No," Porsche and Pete said, in unified horror.

"Yes!" Tankhun pumped his fist in the air.

"I was kidding," Kinn said, dropping his book.

"Bye," Tankhun said, zooming right out of the room as Porsche's eyes slowly landed on Kinn.

Kinn carefully brushed nonexistent dust from his trousers, refusing to look up at Porsche.

"You know what?" he asked. "Maybe next time I'll just keep my mouth shut."

"Yeah, maybe you do that, babe."