#technically I need to be in the office twice a week; in reality my boss is halfway around the world and doesn't care

[notbecauseofvictories]

I think a lot these days about how much bigger the U.S. is than Europe. I mean, part of this is just working for a European company---I talk to our legal counsel based in Paris, and they forget that California (about 75% the size of all of France) has a new law we have to care about, because---well, that's just a state! who cares about a state! My colleagues regularly refuse to travel to a country that's essentially 3 hours of train travel away, because that's so far! ignoring the fact that I have traveled 4 hours to our sister company within the U.S. and regularly drive 1+ hours to the office. (While that's annoying and I don't advocate for it, it's not necessarily unthinkable, that's my point.)

On my way home, I was listening to an NPR story about the Portugal model of drug diversion. It was a great story, thoughtfully reported and contextualized in the recent backlash against decriminalization in the U.S.---but their point of comparison with Portugal was New Jersey. Because they're about the same size, the Republic of Portugal and one of the smallest states in my nation. I just think that when we ask ourselves why things work differently in different countries, "literally, physically different" should occasionally feature in the conversation.

[violetsystems]

#personal

The holidays are quiet if not a little more restful than usual.  I facetime’d my dad and his wife and talked to my mom on the phone.  Since I left my job way back in July I haven’t had much video contact with anybody.  Everybody is too busy baking banana bread on YouTube I guess to check in.  The final days of my employment had devolved into a virtual SCRUM twice a day led by myself on camera.  It was exhausting at times to lead but kept people focused.  That is when they bothered to show up.  One of my employees was off making music with my boss half the time I was trying to lead those discussions.  I’m beginning to sense a theme.  People saying they are there but not really.  Maybe the mic is muted.  Maybe you can’t see behind the screen.  All I know is the follow through lately with people is missing entirely.  I spent a good hour the last two days trying to decouple a credit card from my old job’s contact info.  I’m locked out of both the phone number and the email attached to the account.  I got the run around trying to provide a US passport to confirm my identity.  It was good enough to enter China alone.  The first call that ID was sufficient.  They had said they sent an email to follow through with the process to two different emails I provided.  The email never came most likely because neither had been tied to the account previously.  I called back on Christmas eve and suddenly the passport wasn’t good enough.  Neither was an expired driver’s license.  The woman actually asked me why I hadn’t renewed my driver’s license.  I told the truth.  My ex girlfriend stole my car.  That didn’t really help the situation.  I sent a passport photo to unlock my facebook but they never followed through.   I had an easier time unlocking my Fortnite account with it although that took a full week.  I ended having to call the police on Christmas eve to explore filing a report for fraud and identity theft.  The police officer on the phone pretty much gaslighted me at the end of the questioning.  “Nothing criminal.” he stated plainly.  I didn’t get mad.  I didn’t even complain.  I simply said Happy Holidays and hung up.  Much like I’ve hung up on the last twenty years of my life at this point.  Nobody seems to want to answer the video call.  The opening introduction if they did would be something like “What exactly have you done with my life?”  Maybe they’re afraid to confront the truth.  The media, the government, and even the police seem to not want to believe evidence that contradicts their narrative.  I guess you could throw up your hands and revolt.  But the holidays have been peaceful and quiet enough to simply roll my eyes and move on.  I’ve had years of failures to connect.  COVID has taught me a lot of things.  I heard the mantra in all the mandatory corporate webinars.  This pandemic has brought to light structural problems we were never aware of before.  Sexual harassment in the workplace.  Check.  Organizational corruption.  Check.  The fact everybody is full of bullshit and will just mute the mic and pretend it never happened.  Check.  People feel invincible behind a screen and think they know it all.  Check.  Now that we’re aware.  What do we do?  How do we move on with our life now that we have all this space?  How do I even care about participating in a broken process when I have no debt and fiscal maturity?  How can I go back to being the old me when I’ve been completely erased and conveniently forgot about?  Why would I even bother?  

Mostly I take the time with this process to make sure my identity is completely secure.  Which is why it’s not really fun to be locked out of twenty years of your own information in the form of an email account and forgotten about for six months.  But this is just the structural reality come to light.  Much like the rest of America is waking up to the reality of what greed really does to people.  That was my Christmas present this year aside from the coffee that never came and that Cyberpunk game that I don’t really have the time or the subpar computer setup to criticize.  I’m guilty of tricking myself into thinking people care about me.  I have statistical data from the last six months that proves otherwise.  I also have financial data that points to whatever hustle I have been hustling during that time has paid off and will continue to.  But I don’t really have an answer to anything.  I’m in the worst kind of limbo.  I don’t get the sense these days that I should even remotely worry until July.  Which is kind of like saying fuck you to the world for the next six months.  I spent the last six waking up from a nightmare.  The only times I look back is to clean up the mess.  And a Christmas Eve call to the police is kind of messy.  But the result is more of the same for me.  An extravagant “I told you so.”  I’ve been telling myself for awhile now a lot of things.  Some of them were kind of unbelievable.  Now those very dreams are all I really take comfort in.  The limbo I’m in is more pointed to the light at the end of the tunnel than the void.  But I can’t say the same for everybody else.  I work for myself for the time being.  It looks really nice on paper.  I can even pay myself if it fits into my organization’s financial outlook.  But none of this matters when you or your struggles don’t even exist to people other than to mock or judge it.  All the work we do to survive.  All the work we do to create art and to be beautiful in the face of chaos.  All of that is negated by a loud mouthed jerk who can bark you back into submission.  A mob of dumb ass fraudsters that talk over and mute any opposition without any warrant or merit.  The press follows this mentality pretty clearly.  Everybody has a hot take and a theory.   But nobody wants to sit down and listen to the culmination of lies spread about people and situations.  Everyone is too emotionally interested in sharing their recipe for banana bread to an invisible audience.  I guess I could be guilty of that too.  Except that I share actual human emotion and care with a community of people who pay attention week to week.  For a person like myself who has no real need to worry about money for the foreseeable future what’s the value of care and attention?  A lot.  I don’t feed myself with vapor or fake sentiments.  I take it all at base level as real as it gets.  You can’t build a future on speculation.  You can technically if you are in the stock market.  But risk is risk.  And money is money.  No one can be me at the end of the day.  Sometimes I can’t even prove I’m myself.  My mom reminded me I had to provide ten pieces of documentation to renew my passport ten years ago.  The reasoning was simple.  The government did not believe I existed.  No bullshit.  A decade later nothing really has changed.  I’ve been to Shanghai by myself and eaten McDonald’s.  I read all these Republicans talk about how you put your identity at risk just setting foot in that country.  

And yet when does the rhetoric and brainwashing fall flat on it’s face?  When you can’t pass economic stimulus to not only save your own people but the fragile stock market all this bullshit is built upon.  I could keep telling you I told you so.  Or I could save my own ass.  And largely I did without really owing much to this country whatsoever except taxes in Q1.  Taxes billionaires don’t have to pay because they offer us so much relevant employment and benefits that fit on their bottom line.  The real truth is that America would rather not face the truth.  It hasn’t for years.  It’s built on this kind of thing.  It always has been.  And the world gets bigger and the excuses get worse.  And so what does anyone expect a person like me to do after you openly admit that there’s nothing criminal going on here.  How does that sound when you’ve been treated openly like a criminal in so many unsettling ways that you just don’t want to participate in society anymore?  Not that anyone really asks me to participate.  They’re too busy signaling or whispering secret messages.  Is it suggestion or valid communication?  I’m the one that has to shift through it all and detangle the mess from what is real and what is some sort of mass hallucination.  An alternate reality hunger game that the rich have been playing for years without any punishment or oversight.  When you get caught up in the crossfire they expect you to know the drill.  Keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.  None of this is good for me.  You could argue it made me the beast that I am.  But I am the one who had to actively make that choice to adapt and survive.  But I’m not like any normal person these days.  I refuse to admit it anymore.  They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.  I have a problem.  One that it seems I cannot fix.  And if you isolate and quarantine yourself from an entire twenty years of nostalgia what is left?  Where are the texts of merry xmas from yesteryear.  Probably pinging my old work number.  I can’t access my facebook.  Maybe that’s for the best.  I can’t shut down lines of credit until I renew my state ID.  I could jump on a plane and visit Shanghai Disney quicker than I could prove I’m alive to the US government.  And when does the constant gaslighting break down?  When do we realize that people gaslight to cover up an elaborate lie that has gotten out of control.  That we are not all in this together.  Not by a longshot.  That the problem of connectedness is right there in front of our faces.  We’re exhausted propping up entire infrastructures that keep a bloated empire alive.  Family fortunes built on opioids and war strewn out across the landscape in trusts and elaborate tax schemes.  Oligarchs that have generational wealth that buy our politicians and scam people into debt and forced labor.  This is America.  This is the systemic problem the pandemic brought to light.  This shit was built this way.  And like any fort constructed with shaky foundations, good luck hiding from the storm in that shit.  At least I can still access my Epic account.  What am I going to do for the next six months?  Complain about something I can’t fix because everybody wants to consider me part of the problem?  I don’t know what to do anymore except move forward and lead by example.  There’s enough quality people who follow to keep me warm with those thoughts through the holidays alone.  I won’t be drunk on a zoom call.  I’ll be in bed watching Wonder Woman or something.  When everyone you worshipped comes out of this looking fake, tired and exhausted you’ll know where to find me.  Unlocking more accounts tied to an identity that doesn’t exist anymore.  Nothing criminal.  Hopefully people will stop treating me like one eventually.  <3 Tim

[nyxfury]

The Big Little Merman (Part 2: The Plan is Afoot)

Rated M for swearing

Pairing: Dramione Fandom: Harry Potter / Little Mermaid

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter or Little Mermaid(Disney) franchise. This is just fanfiction and completely demonetised. Thanks to JKR and Disney for the wonderful sandboxes to let our imaginations run wild. This is also not beta-d so apologies for any mistakes and errors. They are my own.

Summary: Draco Malfoy suddenly finds himself thrust as the leading man in the gender bended wizard play adaptation of a muggle story, The Little Mermaid. How did it come to be this way and who’s slated to play the female lead? (Hint: Hermione)

Link to A03

“Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter!!” fumed Hermione Granger with her shrillest impression of a banshee as she barrelled into the redheads’ office.

“I take it you received your letter.” nodded Ginny, keeping her gaze focused on the document she was working on. With a final flourish of dotting a few more i’s and t’s, she re-slotted her quill in its’ holder, steepled her fingers together and took her sweet time shifting her gaze slowly to look at Hermione. Her expression remained stoic but her eyes held a scheming twinkle. She gestured to the guest chair, inviting Hermione to take a seat. 

Huffing at the redheads’ calm composure, Hermione closed the office door and sat on the opposite chair out of spite. She liked to indulge in being petty when she was in a mood. And she was feeling particularly irritated with the redhead right now.

Ginny rolled her eyes, ignoring the childish behaviour. She was a mother after all and Hermione was acting like her 2 year old son on a tantrum.

“What is the meaning of this?” Hermione clipped, waving the letter in the air in annoyance. Her initial fury deflated a little, simmering into mild anger. She crossed her arms and levelled a glare at the redhead.

“Well, Hermione, I imagine it would’ve been self-explanatory really. You broached the idea, I floated it to my boss, the HR Department head. He loved it, being half-blood himself. And now we’re working on making it a reality.” Ginny explained patronisingly.

“You know what I’m asking Ginny. I suggested the play because I thought it would be a hilarious consequence for the losing team. I never imagined nor wanted to be part of it!” she protested, waving her hands in emphasis. “Now explain why I’m finding myself cast as one of the leading characters and playing opposite Malfoy as his romantic interest!”

“Ah and therein lies your answer.” sing-songed Ginny, suggestively raising her eyebrows up and down.

“Ginny!”, Hermione spouted indignantly.

“Hermione!” mocked Ginny. 

“When will you finally admit that you find the man devastatingly attractive?” the redhead asked, leaning back in her chair and staring pointedly at her friend. She had a suspicion that her friend was carrying a torch for the blond scion. She’s never confronted Hermione about it until she felt sure that it was reciprocated. After observing both of them dance around each other for months, she’s grown impatient that neither was doing anything to pursue the mutual attraction.

Clarity dawned on the brightest witch of their age as she realized Ginny’s true motives. “Ginevra, if this is in any way related to you insisting on dolling me up for the pick up match, or that time you insisted I wear…I swear to Merlin that..that…” she fumbled, suddenly feeling flustered. Her lower abdomen felt like it was tying itself in endless knots. “Argh! Self care my arse.” she uncharacteristically exclaimed in frustration, throwing her arms in the air as she stood and walked towards the only window in the small office. She was feeling a little betrayed. Hermione Granger did not often feel backed into a corner. So she settled on some distance as she contemplated on the newfound perspective, completely missing Ginny’s small triumphant smile.

Finally, progress! A semblance of acknowledgement. Ginny happily sighed, patiently waiting for Hermione to process her emotions.

“I didn’t ask you to play matchmaker.” Hermione declared indignantly after a few beats of silence. The urge to escape the anxiety inducing conversation felt strong and she was on the verge of bolting.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t live vicariously through you and appreciate fine wine.” Ginny quipped.

Hermione stared at her friend. “You’re married.”

“Yes and a few years in matrimony can make life predictable.” Ginny waved her hand dismissively. “So you’re not denying it.” she stated more as a fact than a question.

“If you’ve come to that conclusion then my struggle to understand what this is must’ve been terribly obvious.” she sighed, shoulders slumped as she found her way back to her chair.

“But the self care campaign, Ginny? Really?” Hermione asked incredulously.

“It killed two birds with one stone.” the redhead shrugged, looking smug and unrepentant.

“To be perfectly candid, I don’t know what this is I have with Malfoy. Or that if there even is anything at all.” the brunette confessed. “There’s just been so much going on. He just broke off a long engagement for Merlin’s sake!“ 

“Hermione,” Ginny paused dramatically, “you’re probably the only person in this Universe who considers a year and a half as something recent.” Ginny pointed out. “Also, no one would’ve judge either of you if you started dating right after his engagement dissolved. In fact, half the Wizarding World assumed you’d be married with Malfoy’s babies by now!” the redhead exclaimed.

Hermione responded with a pointed glare.

“Ok, maybe that was a gross exaggeration.” Ginny conceded.

Before the conversation could go on, they were suddenly interrupted by another person barrelling through Ginny’s office in exasperation.

“Ginny, what the hell!?” exclaimed one very flabbergasted husband, waving a missive similar to the one the brunette flourished earlier.

“Alright, I’ve had it with everyone storming into my office today. Have all of you left your manners at home and forgot to knock like a decent person?”, declared the redhead more to herself than anyone in particular.

“Let me guess, you’ve also been casted for the play.” the brunette addressed Harry, who was still standing in askance as the door behind him was left wide open.

Noticing a few onlookers gathering and remembering where they were, Harry closed the door so as not to attract more attention.

“Well, yes. But I don’t understand why since our team won the pick up match! Hermione was supposed to be the only addition outside the losing team.” he huffed.

“Harry James Potter, please tell me that you and your wife aren’t actively trying to meddle in my love life!”, Hermione demanded, arms akimbo.

The bespectacled Auror had the decency to look chagrined as he stared at Ginny, silently begging for rescue as he realized his Freudian slip. The redhead’s only response was a wide-eyed stare, non-verbally replying that he was on his own.

Then there was silence.

Hermione sighed resignedly, “At least tell me that your scheming hasn’t gone beyond you two.” 

The married couple’s silent debate with their staring told her more than enough than she needed to know.

“Oh Merlin, who else is in this ploy and why am I only finding out now?”

~o~ 

“Malfoy, drinks are on you since it’s technically your fault we’re in a pickle right now.” declared Ronald Weasley as he plopped himself on a seat and signalled for a server. 

Draco already expected as much since he initiated the invite. But the gangly redhead chose a table for a larger group than their current party so he felt the need to clarify, “Expecting more company, Weasley?”

“Yeah, I’ve invited Harry and Dean. Apparently, my sister’s gone mental and casted them in the play! They’re out for blood. We’re all on the same team now.” he casually replied after ordering a round for everyone.

Draco is unsurprised by the development. The production will be a charity event after all and it’s only logical to include the Boy Who Died Twice and Lived to ensure that the tickets will sell out. It would also follow that the last member of the Golden Trio be included to complete the ensemble and seal the deal with the sales. Thus, he finds himself curious if she’s been casted as well.

He sipped his firewhiskey, feeling the smooth satisfying warmth of the liquid spread through his system. 

Harry Potter and Dean Thomas arrived and settled themselves. Blaise immediately declared that Potter got what he deserved after being so smug earlier that day. Everyone, excluding Malfoy, went into a heated discussion about the ridiculous stipulations included in the production.

“How can they demand us to be fit and have defined abs to play shirtless Mermen!? I’m an Auror but pushing paper doesn’t require exercise!”, Seamus tearfully exclaimed as he nursed his pint in one hand and his slight but definitely there beer belly in the other.

“Hear hear!”, Thomas chimed in support as he raised his own pint.

The conversation remained rowdy in the background as Draco stayed silent and in deep contemplation. A few more sips of his drink and he felt confident that Granger’s been casted in the play. Slowly, he found his mood shifting from dread to anticipation for the coming weeks.

Blaise never missed a beat and was perceptive enough to notice that the blonde finally put two and two together. Deciding that it was the right moment to sow the seeds, he executed his play.

“Speaking of fit, I noticed that Granger’s been looking really fit recently. Doesn’t she Draco?” he asked the blonde point blank.

Unprepared to be addressed after staying silent for most of the night, Draco decided to just nod in agreement and completely missed Blaise signalling Weasley to take his cue. 

“That she does. I blame you for losing us the match Malfoy but I don’t blame you for getting distracted. She was especially lush during the pick up match.” Weasley unexpectedly mooned.

The blonde felt confused as he bluntly questioned, “Hasn’t that ship sailed years ago, Weasley?”

“It has. But I’ve been re-thinking our relationship recently. I feel like it may be time to try again.” the redhead wolfishly replied as he polished his drink and signalled for another.

Seamus patted Weasley on the back in solidarity as Harry declared his support for the redhead’s declaration; as did everyone else in the table save for the blonde.

Draco never wore his heart on his sleeve but he was unable to mask the brief flash of hostility that overtook his features before schooling it back to nonchalance. The sudden and intense protectiveness he felt over Granger after Weasley’s declaration startled him. In his distraction, he failed to notice the silent triumphant look everyone shared. 

Blaise silently praised himself for a job well done as he watched his friend internally brood.

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Love Like Him

(So this is high key cause of a poem called “When Love Arrives” by Phil Kaye and Sarah Kay. Look it up, its good)

Master List

~~

When you were young, you had convinced yourself you knew what love was, what love looked like. Love was blond hair and green eyes. Love was skilled hands playing all your favorite songs on the piano. Love was bright laughter cut off when you walked into the room.

In high school, you tried to convince yourself what love wasn't. Love wasn't leather jackets and ripped jeans. Love wasn't a Rolling Stones shirt left on your bedroom floor when he fled out the window in the morning. Love wasn't steamy windows of a car that was older than both of you.

Love wasn't Im Jaebeom.

It couldn't be.

Love wouldn't do what he did. Love wouldn't ignore you in front of his friends, but give you rides to and from school. Love wouldn't run from your parents or keep things secret. Love would have been there at your Mathletes competitions, celebrated your acceptance into your dream school. But Jaebeom wasn't love.

And you convinced yourself of this.

That's why you left without saying goodbye, even though you saw him, watching you from across the street, as you loaded boxes into your car. You were running away, you couldn't even pretend you weren't, but you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

That's how you landed here, 15 years later. Head of finances for a major entertainment company, worth millions of dollars, no longer wearing sweaters and jeans to everything. You had become who you were meant to be, and yet you still found yourself daydreaming about a leather jacket and a Pontiac Firebird.

“Y/n, I have the statements from this last week, and your mail.” Your assistant announced, knocking on your office door.

“Come in.” The young woman set down the stack of folders and a few envelopes.

“It looks like one of them is from a high school.” She mentioned, “I didn't know you were old enough to have a kid in high school, or that you had kids.”

“I don't. Its probably for the reunion.” You shrugged. You had gotten a few messages from old high school friends asking if you were going.

“Are you going?” You shook your head, tossing the envelope to the side.

“Probably not. It's next weekend and I don't know if I'll have the time off.” She opened her mouth to say something else but you held up a hand to stop her. “Unless its related to these statements, you're welcome to leave.”

“Of course, Y/n.” She bowed, leaving you to your work.

The following day your boss, the CEO, called you into her office the moment you arrived. Your boss was chill, a bit young, maybe only a few years younger than you, and had built the company when she was barely out of high school. She may not have been the oldest in the room, but she commanded respect like she was.

“Y/n,” She started. “I got an email today regarding you.” She started, not giving you time for any small talk. “It says your high school reunion is coming up and I noticed you didn't take any time off.”

“No, I only got the invitation yesterday.” You weren't technically lying.

“Did you want to go?” She asked, bored eyes looking between you and her computer.

“I'm not sure.”

“Well, let me rephrase that, do you want to be paid rather handsomely for giving them a large check?” You stared at her in shock.

“Why-”

“I'm trying to convince someone who went to school there to join us here. He went to school around the same time as you, I believe.”

“Who?”

“Can't tell you, it's classified right now. But I need to know how much we would be able to donate without altering personnel pay. I want both answers by tomorrow evening please.” You nodded, standing to leave.

“What if my answer is no?” She looked up at you, a smirk forming on her lips.

“Something tells me it won't be.”

~~

You hated how right your boss always seemed to be, but here you were, sitting in your old school's parking lot in a car at least twice as good as most of the ones around you. You had chosen to wear something that didn't immediately mark you as rich but most of the people walking into the school were dressed to the nines anyway, so your black and silver dress didn't make you stand out too bad.

“Oh my gosh! Y/n.” You recognized the voice the instant you stepped out of your car, turning to find the once head cheerleader walking towards you with three kids in tow.

“Alex, hey, how are you?” You greeted, letting her kiss both your cheeks.

“I'm amazing, these are my boys, Jasper, William, and little Malachi.” She introduced. “My husband's going to be a little late.” Your heart clenched as you prepared for the next question. “What about you, are you married yet?” You shook your head slightly.

“No, I've been focusing on my job.” You explained, opening your trunk to get the oversized check. She led the way to the gym, and you found yourself looking at all the cars for the Firebird. So far, no luck.

Why did you want to see him so bad? He broke your heart, he's the one who fucked it up. He pretended you weren't anything while sneaking into your room almost every night, so why did you want to see him so bad?

Inside the gym was full of people, and you plastered a smile on your face as people began looking at you. You had expected the stares, but it didn't stop you from trying to hide, walking along the edge of the room to find the current principle. Your cheeks were already burning from shame at the comments. Your dress didn't reveal anything but your bare arms and most of your legs. It wasn't so short you'd pop out if you bent over, you could have worn this to work.

“Damn, who hired her?”

“Dress like that, no way she'd say no.”

“There's no way that's her.” You heard someone say. “She got so hot.”

“She was always beautiful.” The moment you heard his voice a shiver ran up your spine.

“I think she heard you.”

“She did.” You breathed in, calming your nerves, before turning to the source of the voices.

He looked different now, and yet still the same. The stud on the side of his nose still glinted against the lights, but his eyes were warmer now, and his leather jacket had been traded for a grey sweater.

How the tables had turned.

“Miss L/n,” The principal greeted. “Thank you for your donation.” He shook your hand with a grin, which you returned. “The art department will be thanking you for years.”

“Don't worry about it, the company will always support the arts programs.” You explained.

“Let's have a photo?” He asked, pointing to the cameraman waiting.

“Of course.” You held up one end of the check, and he held the other, with his free hand resting on your waist. You smiled through a few photos until his hand slipped down from your waist, gradually going lower. The moment you felt his hand squarely on your butt you stepped away, sending him a harsh glare. “That's enough photos. Have a good night, sir.”

“Damn look at that ass.”

“What a piece on her.”

“How much do you think I'd have to pay to get her for the night?” The comments seemed 10 times louder than they were, but you had had enough. You passed Jaebeom and Jinyoung on the way out, walking so close to them you could smell the cologne he wore.

You made it outside and all the way to the broken wall you used to sit on to hide before the dam broke and your make up was ruined. People sucked, your heart hurt, and despite looking amazing, you felt gross. It didn't help that your dress was sleeveless and the spring night was providing plenty of brisk winds.

Something heavy fell across your shoulders and his cologne invaded your senses.

“Jaebeom.” You greeted blankly, staring at the ground by your feet.

“How'd you know?” He asked, sitting down next to you. He had bulked up a bit since you had seen him last.

“You wear the same cologne.” Silence fell over the two of you, the laughter and music from the gym barely audible.

“Did you get where you wanted to go?” He finally asked, voice barely a whisper.

“I'm head of finances for an entertainment company, I live in a penthouse, I don't have to worry about eating or being cold at night.”

“But are you happy?” You turned to look at him. Seeing him so close felt different. There was the shadow of stubble across his jaw, purple barely visible under his eyes and a small pout on his lips.

“No.” You found yourself confessing. Why? You weren't sure. “I haven't been happy for a long time.” You turned to look back at the football field down ahead of you.

“How come?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“I'll tell you why I'm not happy.” He started, hands pressed between his thighs like a scolded kid. “In high school I was an asshole. I found this girl, and she was beautiful and smart and funny and everything I never thought I'd look for in love. And I messed it up.” Your heart seized, he must have been talking about someone else. “I kept playing it off, pretending we weren't together, hiding from her parents, but in reality, I wanted nothing more than to hold her hand and talk her on movie dates, not just make out in my car.”

“So why'd you do it?” You asked once he had finished.

“Because I felt I had to. I was the coolest guy in school and when you're an idiot high schooler, its the most important thing in the world.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I was an idiot who couldn't see the woman of my dreams right in front of me.”

“So what are you now?”

“I'm a singer, with Jinyoung. I have 5 cats, whom I love equally.” He rambled. “I'm in love with this girl.”

And there's the heartbreak you were waiting for.

“She's smart, and somehow even more beautiful than the last time I saw her.”

“So go get her.”

“I can't. She hates me, the last time I spoke to her I laughed at her in front of the whole school, then we graduated and she left.” You were really hoping you were right about who he was talking about as you spoke next.

“She doesn't hate you.” You turned to look at him when he looked at you abruptly.

“Are you sure?”

“It's my turn to tell you a story.” You deflected. “When I was in high school, there was this guy I'm sure I was in love with. He was the opposite of what I thought love was, but he made me feel so amazing. He hurt me all the time though, he'd run from my parents and act like he didn't even know me at school. It hurt so bad.” He let out a deep sigh. “But then I ran away. I went off to college and I tried to forget about him. I kept using the way he would treat me as a standard. If they treated me like he did behind closed doors, but not the way he treated me in public, they were golden, but I started to realize something. No one could ever compare to him. No one held me with the same amount of emotion, no one looked at me the same way during sex, no one's car felt like home, like his. It took me until I overheard him tonight to realize, I had always been in love with him, even after 15 years.”

“Y/n.” You turned to face him, finding his face inches from yours. “You mean it?” You didn't answer, instead just pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.

He smiled, no, grinned at you when you pulled away.

“Do you want to go back inside?” He asked, standing.

“Not really. I never liked dances, never had anyone to dance with.” You confessed.

“I know, and I should have taken you to Prom, so let me make it up to you? One dance and then I'll let you go back to the city forever.”

“Fine, but you have to walk me to my car.”

“I can do that.”

~~

A slow song started almost the moment you walked back into the gym. You stayed by the doors, but people were still watching you both.

“People are staring.” You whispered, cheeks heating up.

“Let them stare.” He shrugged, pulling you close by the waist. “I want my dance, I waited 15 years for it.” You shook your head, laughing.

“I have a question Jb.” You finally spoke after a few moments of silence.

“What's that?”

“What happened to the Firebird?”

“It's sitting in my garage.”

“How come?” You looked up at him, finding him smiling.

“Well, the day after that girl I told you about left, it stopped wanting to work. I usually ride my bike, but Jinyoung drove me today.” You nodded in understanding.

“Well then, here's my request. Come find me in the city. There's a diner there that reminds me of home, but you have to pick me up in the bird.”

“Why?”

“So we can pick up where we left off.”

~~Bonus~~

You stepped out of the elevator, coat thrown over one arm, and your bag in the other. Nearly a week had passed since the reunion and you were finally ready to go home for the weekend. People in the lobby were staring at you as you made your way to the front of the building.

“Hey, what's going on, why's everyone staring at me?” You asked the receptionist at the front desk.

“Well, the guy over there, he's from the boss' newest deal. He says he knows you, and that you made him agree to work here.” They explained, pointing to where a familiar leather jacket towered over your boss. Both of you exchanged confused looks before you walked over to the pair. The moment you smelled his cologne you smiled.

“Jaebeom?” You called, making him turn with a smile.

“Good evening, Y/n.” He greeted.

“I should be thanking you, Y/n. The JJ Project only signed onto the company because you impressed them so much during the reunion.”

“Excuse me, sir, is that your car out front?” A security guard interrupted the conversation.

“Yes it is, I'll move it in a moment.” Jb smiled, “Just me finish talking to the boss.”

“You two go have a good weekend, I'll see you both on Monday.” The Boss grinned, shooting you a wink. “Go on, I have business to handle.”

“Good night, boss!” You both called. You turned to Jb, who took the bag from your hand and offered you his own. Entwining your now free hand into his you let him walk you out the door to where the car was waiting.

“So you got her to work?” He grinned at you as he opened the door.

“I just told her she was getting her co-pilot back and she burst into life like she was brand new.” He explained, “I guess we both missed you.” Once he had sat down in his seat you leaned over, grabbing his collar and kissing him properly. “What was that for?” You just shrugged.

“Picking up where we left off.”

[demaury]

Some kind of mistake (cha. 2)

Ever since Eliott first came across the new resident of the apartment 320, he made peace with the fact that Lucas ‘Big Blue Eyes’ Lallemant would, one way or another, turn his life upside down. Thing is, he hadn’t expected that Lucas’ wife and Lucas’ daughter would play a part in it. Because, you know, he didn’t know they existed until it was too late. (ao3 link)

Eliott wasn’t a morning person generally speaking, mostly because his daily schedule included more often than not coming back home past two in the morning and sleeping off until noon, but he had at least assumed that all the noises he had been hearing since Saturday would stop on Monday morning. Because, you know, as Sofiane said, not everyone had a job like his.

Well, he was wrong. On Monday morning, it was yet another string of loud noises that woke him up, growing louder and louder as they pulled Eliott out of his heavy slumber a little bit more each time, until a final metallic thud resonated like a shotgun through the overall quiet building.

He bolted out of sleep, head spinning a little as he tried for a few seconds to gather what the hell was happening, where he was, what day they were and if, somehow, he could get his heart to start beating again without having to call an ambulance. His eyes kept fluttering from one corner of his room to the other as the thoughts streamed in.

The good news was that he was in his bedroom — alone, which was always a plus.

The bad news was that the clock on his nightstand read half past ten in the morning, and that technically, he was the one in the wrong, because technically, people were allowed to make noise at this hour.

He hated that.

Eliott dropped himself back onto his mattress with a sigh, rubbing his face with his hands, occasionally staring and blinking at the ceiling. Moving in wasn’t easy but apparently, Blue Eyes wasn’t the quiet type either — he knew he should have picked up on the name used on Saturday, but he just couldn’t remember, so Blue Eyes it was. So far, all he had heard from his new neighbor were yelled-out conversations during the entire duration of the weekend, in large part coming from his too loud friends, and the incessant come-and-go and rattling noises of someone settling in. Not much to make an opinion, one would say, but the other people living in their apartment complex were discreet, for the most part. In the nearly five years he had lived here, Eliott still had no clue what was his next-door neighbor's name. All he knew was that the man was probably in his forties, single and likely an accountant, or something equally unattractive and equally boring. They had passed each other by a handful of times, and he always looked like he was exhausted and drowning in his ill-fitting suits.

He was still staring blankly at nothing when his alarm went off, and Eliott grabbed it from the nightstand to shut it down as the first couple of notes from Boy Epic’s cover of City of Angels hummed quietly in the silent room. He had exactly thirty minutes to get up, get dressed, and get ready to go before the meeting one of his clients had scheduled with him (read: for him). He took a rapid shower and was heading for the front door when someone knocked. Once. Twice. Eliott frowned and unlocked the door, chucking it open when he found Blue Eyes standing in the doorway.

His hair was even more of a mess than it was already Saturday morning, and a few light bruises marbled his arms pocking out of his one-size too big tee-shirt. Eliott didn’t know why he found the whole thing alluring, but he did anyway.

“I was starting to think you had well and truly died this time,” he remarked with a cocked eyebrow.

Blue Eyes gave him a look and mechanically rubbed the bruised spot on his forearm. It was the exact gesture he had made on Saturday morning, after the bed base disaster, and Eliott could only guess that those were the casualties born from Murphy’s Law. “Nice to know you got worried, I appreciate.”

Eliott found himself grinning, and maybe he tried to contain it. It was only the second time they were talking but for some reason, it didn’t seem nearly as emotionally draining as it could have been. It felt easy. Almost Natural. Comfortable, somehow.

Blue Eyes cleared his throat a little, starting to fidget with his hands. “I- uh. I wanted to apologize for the mess I’m doing these days in the building. I’ve been told by someone from the first floor that it was starting to get on people’s nerves. And, like, my friends- they can be loud. Like, really loud. And messy. Back where we lived everyone was kinda used to it, but-”

His voice trailed off and Eliott tilted his head to the side, slightly intrigued by the sudden change in his demeanor. He hadn’t picked him as the rambly, dorky type — it left Eliott to wonder how those different personality traits didn’t just end up short-circuiting each other in such a small body.

“It’s fine,” he said with a casual shrug. “I got loud friends too.” After an awkward second of silence, he held out his hand, Blue Eyes glancing back and forth between his face and his hand before shaking it. “I’m Eliott, by the way. In case you need an alibi, you know where to find me.”

Blue Eyes frowned, looking rather confused. “An alibi?”

Eliott smirked. “Well, you stated that you were on the verge of murder, if I remember correctly.”

A smile broke onto Blue Eyes’ face, illuminating his features as realization hit him. “Oh. Yeah. Thanks for the offer, I might take you up on that someday,” he said, then he seemed to remember he was still holding Eliott’s hand and nearly dropped it right away. This time, Eliott well and truly bit back a chuckle. “I’m Lucas. Lallemant. Nice to meet you.”

Lucas. Right. It was a cute name. A cute name for a cute face. Back off, Demaury, you’re staring, a voice chided in his brain, and strangely enough it sounded an awful lot like Idriss’.

“Nice to meet you too.” He shoved his hand into his jeans’ pocket, cocking an eyebrow. “Was that all?”

“Yeah,” Lucas said, then he tore his eyes away to what Eliott just knew was an invisible spot above his shoulder before adding quickly: “I mean, no. I also wanted to thank you for helping me last weekend. It’s really not the best way to make an impression but you didn’t laugh at me and let me die a slow and painful death, so I figured maybe I could offer you a coffee at the very least. Well, only if you’re free, I mean.”

There he was, rambling again, and every single word made it harder for Eliott to restrain a large grin from splitting his face in two. His phone pinging made it a hundred times easier, though, as Eliott was suddenly brought back to reality. “I can’t right now, I was just about to go,” he admitted, and Lucas’ smile fell a little bit.

So that wasn’t just his brain messing with him. This guy really was an open book.

Lucas took a step back from the doorway. “Oh, right. Sorry for the bother,” he winced.

Eliott grabbed his leather jacket and from behind the front door and closed it behind him. For some reason he didn’t want Lucas to think it was just a made-up excuse, so he fished for his keys in his jacket’s pocket and started locking the door behind him. “Another time?” he offered, looking behind his shoulder, where Lucas was already retreating towards the stairs.

Lucas turned around. “Sure,” he nodded with a grin. “Anytime.”

*

“It needs to be perfect. The opening is all that matters, you get that, Eliott, right?”

“I already knew that a week ago,” he remarked as he glanced sideways at the blonde girl next to him.

Scheduling meeting with clients wasn’t something he was doing all that often. Not to be overly introvert, but he had found out early in his career that it was easier to review what the clients wanted once it was laid out on an email rather than simply spoken out in the open. But, eh. Daphné Lecomte was another level of enthusiastic. And nervous. Sometimes he wondered what she was on, because it sure as hell looked like it wasn’t legal.

They had met back when he was working on the opening of a club, the year before; at the time, Daphné was the new recruit of an event planning agency, and she had taken the habit of slipping his name to her boss every once in a while, when they needed to promote new places and book new events. Now she was a few months away from launching her own business, the project of a travel agency she claimed she had been nursing since high school, and it was entirely because she had asked him with her huge, puppy eyes (and, granted, because she had helped him out in the past) that he had agreed on helping her to design the perfect logo.

God knew he had come to regret his decision. It was the second meeting and she had yet to decide on a color palette. “You can do that without me,” Eliott had observed on their first meeting.

“No! I need you. I need to know things work fine,” Daphné had protested.

And so he had stayed. Far too long, if you asked him.

“Coffee, I need coffee,” she mumbled, running to the tiny kitchen adjoined to her office, where they had been locked up for two hours already.

Eliott rolled his eyes to himself and slumped back against his chair. Her habit of pacing back and forth while he was sketching things away was always making him dizzy after some time, and he was trying really hard not to tell her to sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up. It took another two hours after lunch for her to finally decide on a color palette, and by then Eliott had already made peace with the fact that they would need to schedule another meeting, if not two, to sort out the rest. He was already dreading the moment she’d have to pick a font.

It was four in the afternoon when he made it out, half-past five when he dragged himself to the bar next to Sofiane’s place, and almost eight when he came back home after both Sofiane and Idriss suddenly called it a night after Eliott suggested they go out.

“Are you kidding me?”, he protested, annoyed.

“Nothing against you, Demaury,” Idriss snorted, stretching out his long limbs high above his head. “Siham will just skin me alive if I get home late. Last time she got mad at me for a fucking week.”

“And she banished me from the flat,” Sofiane reminded, looking all gloomy in his drink.

Eliott shrugged. “She’s never mad at me.”

“No one’s ever mad at you, you fucker,” Idriss grumbled. “Not even your exes.”

“Joris did threaten to burn his apartment to the ground, though,” Sofiane observed carefully.

Idriss barked a laugh that made two girls behind them scoot around on their chair. “But he didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t call that a victory,” Eliott cringed, the story still leaving a bad taste on his tongue.

He and that Joris guy had been dating for about a month a few years ago, and half of their relationship was a blur leading to a manic episode he had very scarce memories of. He didn’t recall very well what happened after that, only that Idriss and his girlfriend Siham had taken him in for a few days while he was coming down from his high and going through the depressive episode that always followed. As it had turned out, Joris had never been heard of ever again and after some time Eliott finally obtained that Idriss and Sofiane kindly backed off and stopped acting like they were his bodyguards. Only Siham continued to treat him like he was her baby, but it wasn’t strictly babying per se — it was just keeping the door wide open whenever he needed anything and never getting mad at him for literally anything.

After separating with his friends, Eliott had taken advantage of the time spent in the subway, on his way home, to rapidly review his most urgent emails and to track his parcel through the Chronopost app — only to find that his precious, 300€ Wacom Tablet had been delayed. That was his luck, really, and that’s why he found himself knocking at the apartment 320 instead of going straight back home.

It didn’t take three seconds before the door swung open, taking him a little aback when a grinning Lucas exclaimed: “Not only on time but-” before his voice trailed off and his eyes widened a little bit when he realized Eliott wasn’t whoever he was waiting.

Technically, he would have found it funny. And probably made a remark. But right now he was too busy trying not to stare at the large patches of skin he could see thanks to Lucas’ denim button down hanging wide open.

Fuck he was fit. Who would have thought?

“Oh, shit, sorry. Hey,” Lucas said, clearing his throat a little bit, and it was thankfully enough for Eliott’s brain to snap back into place. It wasn’t the first six-pack he saw in his life, after all.

“It’s fine, no harm done. I need a small favor though,” he admitted, wincing a little.

Two days had passed since Lucas had popped up to his flat but Eliott hadn’t had much time left to make due on his rain check. The most they had taken together was the elevator so far, and some part of Eliott regretted not having told Daphné to fuck off on Monday, if only for a couple of hours.

Lucas tilted his head to the side. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Will you be home on Friday?”

Lucas’ eyebrows shot up and he blinked a little. “I, uh. I’m not sure,” he said carefully. “I mean, I guess it’s going to depend on the time.”

Eliott gave a small nod. “Yeah, right. More like, in the morning? I’m waiting for a really important parcel and I had cleared my schedule tomorrow to be able to be there when it’s delivered, but it got delayed. Not to be mean but I’d rather have it in your hands rather than literally anywhere else.”

“No problem, I’ll be there,” Lucas nodded, and he ran a hand through his messy hair. “I’ve got the rest of the week off anyway.”

“Awesome,” Eliott said, leaning back from the doorframe. “Thanks a bunch.”

Thanks a bunch. That was an Idriss thing to say, not an Eliott thing to say, and the worst part was that he was practically sure that the way Lucas’ brows furrowed a little bit meant that he was very much aware of that. He was going to strangle Idriss. That was all his fault anyway.

“It’s fine, let’s see if I manage to get it and then you’ll thank me,” his neighbor snorted.

Eliott huffed a laugh and started walking away when Lucas called him. For some reason, he liked the way he said his name, and he internally rolled his eyes at the cheesiness. He scooted around nonetheless.

“There’s still some coffee left,” Lucas said, and this time he was looking at him straight in the eye.

“Make it beers, make it my place, and make it Friday and I’m all in,” Eliott replied nonchalantly, his lips curving into a smirk just as the elevator dinged.

Lucas’ eyes traveled to his right, and Eliott couldn’t refrain himself from following where they had landed. One of the three guys he had seen in the hall the day Lucas had moved in was walking out of the elevator — the person he had been waiting before Eliott turned up, surely. He took it as his cue to leave, and before he could even think it through, he found himself giving Lucas a wink, before jumping up the stairs to his own flat.

[w0lfbr0thers]

colleagues? - skam fic week; day 5

note: theres smut in this fic - did u really expect me to not write smut somewhere during skam fic week???? and i mean c’mon,,,,, work colleagues??? hello they’re in sUITS ok enjoy <33

day 5: work colleagues au

[read on ao3]

Isak and Even had been partners for about three years—Isak being 23 and Even being 25—and they aren't exactly partners, in a way. Even is technically Isak's boss and Isak is his assistant, and their "relationship" wasn't so sturdy in the beginning as it was now. Constant bickering when Isak first started, mainly because Even was showing him the ropes on how everything wasn't going to be easy with job but also Even just wanted to watch his cute little assistant get flustered over organizing files. It was, in fact, Even's favorite game to play with his assistants—which most likely lead most of them to quit within the first month—but Isak was the trooper, which took Even back a few times.

At least Isak could get his coffee order right in the mornings before he showed up to the office.

When he did show up to the office, his hair was usually a mess—just not from the ways you would think, giving that Isak and Even sort of got together two years into knowing each other after months of mutual pinning—and kind of slept together, lived together... had sex almost every morning, Even excusing it as a way to brush off nerves.

So, here they were. In Oslo, around 14:23 in the afternoon, on a Friday which meant one thing—end of the week conference. They didn't last long (in reality they lasted over two hours) due to it just being casual discussion on sales and whatnot, but this was a bit of a challenge. The whole past week was a challenge with sales—and both Isak and Even had conflicting ideas on how to bring them up.

"As I was trying to say, I think we should boost the marketing and ads in the media. Show them and offer them more than what we originally use. Such as, the shoes we have on market but rarely if ever are purchases. I think it may pick up sale rates—"

"Here's the issue I have with that, Mr. Valtersen," Even said, and he knew that Isak hated being called 'Mr. Valtersen' deep in his bones, but it made it better in conferences due to the stolen, suggestive glances all the while standing in front of oblivious office workers. "If we bribe more with our merchandise that gets less attention, it could bring less attention to us as a whole business. People don't buy the brand of shoe for a reason. Here's what I propose; we keep up with media ads, but at an extent. Keep it an a minimal. Use the media as a tool, not as a base. We cannot bounce off of it forever."

"Very interesting, Mr. Bech Næsheim, but all there is nowadays to bounce off of is the media."

"Might I remind you, Mr. Valtersen, that where are many other ways. You're just an assistant, so I know you don't get into much of the action around here but—let's keep you out of this one, it's wild, hm?"

The glare Even earned sent a smirk trailing across his lips.

"No need to push me out of the business, Mr. Bech Næsheim, having I dealt with you and this company for three years already—"

"Gentlemen, please," the marketing manager steps in, standing from his seat near the end of the table. "Might we keep the arguing out of the office?" Isak and Even both give a curt nod, their eyes catching each others in the sides. "We will... keep both of your suggestions in mind as we discuss this over the weekend. Ladies, gentlemen? Shall we?"

There's a bit of hustle as the meeting comes to a close, both Isak and Even hanging behind and shaking hands as everyone files out of the conference room, leaving them with their own tension—both in their minds and the air around them.

"Very interesting ideas you had today, Mr. Valtersen," Even says as soon as the conference room door is shut.

"Shut the fuck up, will you? And stop calling me Mr. Valtersen, you know I hate it. I know I had good ideas, no need to tell me twice. Yours were... questionable," Isak fires back, but his voice is far from sounding offensive. Even, being the over dramatic guy he is, pretends to take it to heart.

"Isak! How could you say such a thing about my ideas? I'm your boss, remember?" Even says, clutching at the fabric of his suit near his heart which makes Isak roll his eyes before he's pushing himself against Even and Even against the conference table.

"Mm, how could I forget that you're my boss?" Isak asks, his voice low and husky as Even chuckles at him, holding him by the waist.

"Very easily. I've seen you eyeing that Julian Dahl guy."

Isak swats at Even's chest. "I have not! No way!"

Even grins. "I know, baby. I know. I'm just joking," Isak pushes himself further against Even, seemingly to try and create friction on his crotch and Even can feel he's already semi-hard. "Baby, you know what I told you about the office. Strictly business."

"But I have business to be taken care of, Evy—"

"Isak. No. I'm sorry, baby, I just have things to organize and calls to make. You know how busy I am."

Isak pouts, pulling himself off Even as he grabs his notebook from the table. "Okay, boss man. I'll see you whenever you get home tonight, hm?"

Even gives him a wink. "Absolutely."

—

"Alright, Even, I'm heading home!" Jonas, who just so happens to be the last person lingering around the office, calls out, giving a wave to both Isak and Even. "See you, Isak! Don't stay in the office all night, this time."

This pulls a laugh from Isak as Even shoos him off with a wave. "Goodnight, Jonas! Thanks for the help today!"

"No problem!"

Isak and Even stay completely still in Even's office, clutching paperwork, as they wait for the familiar sound of the elevator—arrived, stepped in, gone. They both let out a sigh of relief, small smiles playing on both of their lips as they finish filing and signing paperwork, organizing it into the folders and slipping them into the file cabinets.

"So much for going home, hm?" Isak says, and Even notices a small but quiet yawn escape the younger boy beside him.

"You know how much of a second home this place is to us, right? I mean, I can't keep count of how many times we fucked on that conference table—"

"Four."

"Hm?"

"We fucked on the conference table four times, Even," Isak explains with a sly smile and a tinted blush appearing on his cheeks.

Even bites his lower lip as he glances down at Isak, who just so happens to be staring directly up at him just right to catch his green eyes with Even's blue. "Let's make it five."

Isak giggles as Even takes him by the wrist, pulling them both eagerly out of Even's tiny office and he opens the conference room door, revealing the large room—windows surrounding it, overlooking the night sky and the city—and it's just the perfect setting. As soon as they step through the door, Isak is closing it tightly behind him as he presses himself onto it, Even equaling out the weight as they press their bodies together, hot breath and teeth clashing as they kiss in the dimmed room, the only source of light coming from the city lights below. Isak can feel Even working at his suit, unbuttoning each button one by one, slipping the jacket past Isak's shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, revealing the slightly see-through white dress shirt underneath and Even can see Isak's rock hard nipples through the fabric.

Even takes it slow, making his way past Isak's lips to his jawline and collarbones before making a wet trail down Isak's shirt, causing him to groan at the heat through the shirt as Even moves down to his nipples, teasingly biting at them, taking in every one of Isak's soft moans. By the time Even has his shirt soaking wet with saliva, it's see through, revealing Isak's chest and when Even looks up into Isak's eyes, his pupils are blown and his lips are swollen and bitten. Even gives him a quick kiss as he slips his hands down Isak's back to cup his ass, causing the younger boy to gasp aloud and all it takes is a slight pinch for Isak to pick himself up, wrapping his arms around Even's neck as their lips connect again, Isak's legs wrapped tightly around the older boys hips. Carefully, Even is setting him on the conference table and Isak's mood has shifted dramatically.

"You're going to take me like this, on the conference table? How unprofessional, Even," Isak teases, which brings up a throaty growl from Even as he reaches below the table to a desk, pulling out a condom and lube—of course, as it being his own desk, he already has the essentials which Isak can't help but moan at—just the sight of the condom alone makes him squirm.

"I'll take you anyway you want me to, baby," Even says, and Isak gives a nod, not signalling for any position change and Even knows he can work with this, and well. "Let me just prep you first, okay baby?" In an instant, Even is working furiously at the buckle on Isak's trousers, tossing it to the side and he has the pants pooling at Isak's ankles before he rips them off completely after slipping off his shoes.

Even completely takes Isak in like this—his hair a mess, cheeks red and eyes enlarged as he waits for Even's next move. His breathing is ragged and Even could completely come untouched right now, but he holds himself back for now. Even grabs Isak by the lower leg, pulling him closer to the edge of the table as his fingers hook in the waistband of Isak's boxers, pulling them down swiftly and instantly Isak's throbbing dick is pouncing upwards, bouncing against his stomach and Isak hisses, the relief causing him to buck up his hips.

"Such an eager baby, hm?" Even asks, and Isak whimpers as Even begins to slowly spread his legs, revealing the most perfect sight of Isak's hole, tight and red and just so ready for him. Even takes it all in as he pops open the lube, applying some to his index and middle finger before rubbing them together to create warmth in the lubricant. Carefully, he traces around Isak's rim which causes the younger boy to let out a yelp as he arches his back off the table, his legs already quaking from the sensation and soon Even is pumping his index finger into Isak relentlessly, watching the boy squirm and moan at his touch.

Isak groans, eagerly pulling at Even's hair. "Even—f-fuck, holy shit—Even, please. More, more."

Even doesn't say anything as he curls his fingers one more time in Isak, causing him to throw his head back against the table which is accompanied by a hiss of pain but they both ignore it as Even slips off his own dress jacket, tossing it the side with the rest of the clothing and within minutes he's completely undressed, boxers at his ankles as he lathers himself with the lube and he rips open the condom with his teeth, unfolding it onto his length as he stands between Isak's legs and he can feel Isak's gaze burning into him.

"W-who would have thought that after three years of working here—" Isak is cut off by Even setting himself at his entrance, but he tumbles out the words to finish his sentence, "—that my boss would be making love to me on the conference room table?"

Even grins at his boyfriend, leaning down to press a chaste kiss onto his lips before pinning Isak's hips down with his hands. "No one."

And with that, Even is thrusting into Isak, bottoming out as Isak arches his whole body, hands gripping at Even's shoulders, fingernails digging into the soft skin as he pulls out, waiting a few seconds before thrusting back in again, earning a mewl from the younger boy who is already shaking from the thrilling feeling of Even being inside him.

"F-fuck, baby. More. Move, Even, please—" Isak is cut off when Even pounds back into him, and Isak almost screams for everyone of Oslo to hear as Even begins to pound into him, picking up a quick rhythm as he goes on, the sounds of Isak moaning and the sight of him and his body below Even pushing him further and longer. The conference table is jolting with the force, and Even is leaning himself on the conference table in a matter of minutes, his hands pinning Isak's on the side of his head as he continues pounding into him relentlessly, and he can feel the familiar warmth beginning to crawl over his abdomen and stomach as he reaches closer to his high and he can tell Isak is just as close as he is.

"Even. Even. Fuck. I'm so—fuck—I'm fucking close," Isak stutters, his hips thrusting upward to meet with every single one of Even's thrust as Even lets out sex-induced gasps and his breathing is raspy.

"Come for me, baby. Look at me when you come, okay? Let go, pretty boy," Even encourages, reaching down a hand between them to help Isak along and he's full on whining and whimpering, his body shaking as he climbs higher and as soon as his eyes catch with Even's, the streetlights dancing within his emerald green eyes, Isak is coming between them both, covering them in the sticky white substance and as Even helps Isak ride out his orgasm, the younger boy shaking beneath him, Even is coming hard and fast into the condom as Isak's legs quake around his waist, digging him deeper into his body.

Even allows himself a few more slow thrusts, moaning from the over stimulation and as he pulls out, Isak whimpers below him, a smile wide on his face.

"I'm so fucking glad you're my boss," Isak says, catching his breath after a few moments and it takes all of Even's strength to not collapse on the conference room floor as his legs shake beneath him as he stands.

"Let's call a cab, hm? We should go home," Even says, his grin growing wider as he takes in the beautiful sight of Isak who's still lying on the table, white shirt covered in white cum. "Someone needs a shower."

"I think that applies to the two of us," Isak laughs, and Even smiles at him as he gathers the clothes from the floor. They dress quickly, sure to clean up any extra mess they might have made and with their hands interlocked, they walk out of the room, Even locking it behind him as they head to the elevator.

"Do you think anyone will suspect?" Isak asks, biting his lower lip but Even gives a shake of his head.

"No, probably not."

They head home to their apartment quietly, small talk between the two of them as they climb lazily up the stairs to their flat and just a few minutes within stepping through the door, they're collapsing on their bed, fast asleep.

—

"So much for being colleagues, huh?" Isak says as they walk to the office, breakfast in hand.

"Colleagues?" Even asks, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, Isak. Is this what you think of this relationship? I'm hurt!" Even laughs as Isak nudges his shoulder into his.

"You know, I guarantee they know what we did."

"Yeah, probably."

[athoughtsrecord-blog]

I'm voice typing right now because I need to leave soon and I don't have time to physically write all my thoughts down, so that may be why this might not be super fluid or make a lot of sense but whatever. I sort of have this like new crush thing and I don't know how saying it is or it was when I used to have one but I don't know it kind of occupies my mind and makes me feel good there's this guy named Hamilton Morris who is like a Psychonauts he's got a show on Vice called Hamilton's pharmacopeia and he's also just like totally my type like really tall and thin and kind of wears like simple clothes kind of bookish looking nice glasses dark hair big eyes big lips he also has a big nose. I kind of find it funny that my old long term imaginary crash boyfriend whatever was Billy Hamilton. I recently have been trying to put in place of that my boss Levi and you know I don't really think that's healthy you know I think I kept it separate between my mind and reality but you know it's still kind of weird like seeing him at work and knowing that you're having these intimate thoughts about him that will never become reality and because it's something based on reality that I can that I know and I can experience it creates complex in my mind you know in regards to the fact that he has a wife and I work for him and he's older than me so I'm really glad that I have experienced this new person who I feel as much a better fit for me and honestly has inspired me and just in the last 24 hours two Become maybe more so some what you would call a scholar. This person Hamilton and he's just insanely fucking smart like he's a chemist like he's a scientist basically a journalist and I don't know I mean it would take me a long time to get to that level but it makes me want to be somewhere near that level to where I can be with somebody like that you know I don't think that it would ever be hem in reality but you know I want something like that. I watched a video of him doing like a report on flotation devices and I really want to do that soon I don't know where it will fit in my budget. I did my food log today I really want to start doing low carb diet potentially the Whole 30 diet but I don't know if I can go that far but I want to eat all the food I have first and get all the bad stuff out of the way so I don't sabotage what I do you know when I do do one of those diets and I can eat I could technically eat for a few weeks with what I have I don't know if I will make that because there would be a lot of days towards the end then I would eating leading purely Soylent and oatmeal and almonds and that is going to be a sad process but I'm kind of hoping I can push through that so they can reduce what I have in the cabinets and you know clear space and mental space whatever to move on to something different I'm really wanting to work on whole and pure changes in my life I really want to start meditating I'm kind of confused on the process right now but I downloaded an app that guided meditation for beginners and you know I think that may be doing that will help me gain intuition and willpower into the goals I want to achieve allow me to deal with things that I'm having hard time dealing with like pushing through work when I really feel like I need a break I was just thinking maybe I might take some extra days off in August still though I really can't afford to take any time off but maybe I can take a couple days off around my other days off and have like a four-day weekend maybe even a three-day weekend would be good enough I just want a little extra time to myself and yeah. Things are going to be changing which I'm really happy I'm going to be picking up office manager tasks 2 days a week although that may not come into play for a few months probably October at the latest but so I feel like I have to be on my on my best behavior between now and then so maybe the meditational really help me be able to you know focus on my work and get things done don't let it all out apps on my phone today I don't have the meditation app I downloaded Google Fit although I don't really know how much that's going to help me be no its still kind of weird like seeing him at work and knowing that you're having these intimate thoughts about him that will never become reality and because it something based on reality that I can that I know and I can experience secret complex in my mind you know in regards to the fact he has a wife and I work for him and he's older than me so I'm really glad that I have experienced this new person who I feel as much better fit for me and honestly has inspired me just in the last 24 hours to become maybe more so somewhat you would call us scholar. This person Hamilton he's just insanely fucking smart like he's a, so like he's a scientist basically a journalist and I don't know I mean it would take me a long time to get to that level but it makes me want to be somewhere near that level 2 where I can be with somebody like that you know I don't see that I would ever be him in reality but you know I want something like that. I want Chaffee do of him doing week report on flotation device is and I really want to do that soon I don't know where it will fit in my budget. I did my food log today I really want to start doing Lowell carb diet potentially the whole 30 diet but I don't know if I can go that far but I want to eat all the food I have first and get all the bad stuff all the way so I don't sabotage what I do you know when to do do one of those diets and I can't eat I could technically eat for a few weeks ago but I have I don't know if I will make that because the will be a lot of days towards the end that I would heating leading purely Soylent and oatmeal and almonds and that is going to be a sad process but I'm kinda hoping I can push through that so I can reduce what I have in the cabinets and you know clear space and middle space whatever to move on to something different I'm really wanting to work on whole and your changes in my life I really want to start meditating I'm kind of confused on the process right now but my downloaded in app that says I did meditation for beginners and you know I think that maybe doing that will help me game and tuition and willpower into the Kohl's I want to achieve may allow me to deal with things that I'm having a hard time dealing with like pushing through work when I really feel like I need a break we just thinking maybe I might take some extra days off and August although I really can't afford it take any time off but maybe I can take a couple days off around my other days off and have like a4 day weekend maybe you went to 3 day weekend would be good to my just want to little extra time to myself and yeah. Things are going to be changing which I'm really happy I could be picking up office manager tasks 2 days a week although it may not come into play for a few months hobby October at the latest but so I feel like I have to be on my on my best behavior between now and then so Weaver then meditation roll really help me be able to you now focus on my work and get things done downloaded all out app so my phone today I doubted the meditation a by downloaded Google fit all the I don't really know how much that's going to help me download it this Twilight app that changes the light on your phone Tori you number help you sleep with your using your phone at night. Also download a checklist app so that I can remind myself to do all the things I need to be doing like brushing my teeth twice a day fall saying rinsing washing my face twice a day I don't know I'm not sure if I'm going to add showering everyday cuz I I really feel like I need to shower everyday but you know it might be a good thing but you know just reminders healthy reminders from me. Rachel the girl that I work with she's out of town for a week and have to feed her cat got to go today and just a little bit and I don't know not feeling super like excited about it because I did it a month ago and the cat is just anxious and you know kind of frantic as far as her personality goes she would kind of act friendly for a little bit and then she would attack me in times you know she broke my skin several times she bit me and scratched me and you know she spits at me and hisses at me when I'm not even close to her and I'm I don't know it makes me nervous and I don't particularly want to be around that but I don't know maybe maybe you know she'll recognize me this time and maybe it'll be better whatever yeah. And then Saturday I have an interview with this girl Lisa who does pet sitting business that Kyoko referred me to and I don't know how I really feel about that I was really wanting to get some extra work to make some extra money but I'm also you know wanting to focus on self help stuff and I feel like the extra time I do have right now is really important for that but I think I'm just going to be like firm about what I'm able to do with her and in the case that that doesn't work for her than you know I'll just be okay with that and not accepting the job if I if I know can't have the capacity for what she wants. I also agreed to get drinks with this girl that I've been messaging on OkCupid and I'm not 100% sure how I feel about that either. As far as I know she's in an open relationship so I don't know what a relationship with me and would entail I'm not super interested in having a relationship and honestly like I don't know I like sex but I'm not super and I don't understand not super interested and getting like super intimate with someone right now and I feel like maybe entertaining her was a mistake and I don't want to be like a bitch and like bail on her period we haven't made an actual date date yet I just agreed you know that I would this thing is going to be really busy anyway so it may not be till later on that I can meet her up with her. And also like I don't really know if she's my type. So I don't know talking her kind of made me question my sexuality part of me feels like I just get really nervous trying to meet girls and maybe it's because I'm not supposed to or the fact that I'm more comfortable with men I don't know I mean I know that everything is on a spectrum and I know that I am like more attracted to men but I you know I still feel like I would have really shines with women I'm just I just don't think that I'm particularly interested in any kind of relation like besides friends right now so I don't know I'll guess I can try to communicate that to her. I guess I need to go got to go feed the cat before I go to work. I'm working late tonight and I haven't in awhile and I'm working late Saturday and Sunday tooperiod but that means more money for me I have Management training on Monday too so I kind of basically only have one day off and it's only 4 hours on Monday but still. Just hoping that I keep this positive kind of calm feeling up and keep moving forward and hope I feel good this evening when I get home and make good choices and have a great week and be able to manifest manifest things that I wantperiod I want to you know really start moving forward and becoming some kind of person you know I feel like I've always been in between and I feel like maybe I'm starting to move towards thoughts that I want to flush out and you know I don't know I want to start studying things have some kind of semblance or substance to myself.