Mr. Fisk's characterisation of the matter as a deeply personal issue wasn't inaccurate, but it did make Ford's shoulders tense slightly. What did Fisk know about it, that he had assumed it was deeply personal? Was there any chance Dorian Fisk had told him about what had happened? Surely not, especially given the way that things had ended.

Then Fisk was flushing and saying something about if he ever needed a friend, and Ford couldn't help but stare. Did he mean a friend, or — was there some ulterior motive in going so far out of his way to ask about it, that had nothing to do with his brother? Merlin. That couldn't be what Leonid Fisk was trying to get at, but with the way his cheeks had colored Ford couldn't entirely shake the possibility. Of course that wasn't a thought he could entertain, any more than he could have entertained the idea of continuing to kiss Dorian Fisk, but — where had all these men been two years ago, when he'd had leisure to do this sort of thing if he wanted? Where were all these advances before he'd been settled with so many more important responsibilities?

"That's — uhm, good to know," he said, flustered now himself. "... Thank you."

---