Work Text:
["When you meet a businessman, you must shake your hands."
When Coffin met Briefcase, he waved his hands, even before he was a businessman.
When Coffin shook his hands, he admired his gentle smile and soft speech.
When Coffin said goodbye to him, there were ghostly hands still in his, a nostalgic memory pinching his skin. ]
Toc Toc
Briefcase lifted his eyes from the notebook, watching the door in front open and a coffin slowly put its head inside.
"Coffin, friend!" he greeted with a smile, receiving another in return "Any problem?"
The tallest man opens the door completely, showing all his fascination. He had some papers in hand.
"Could you help me?" he asks, pointed over his shoulder "I think there’s something wrong with my computer, and I need to fill out some forms..."
Briefcase hums, a friendly smile on his face, shaking his head: "Sure! Let’s see what’s wrong".
He gets up, following Coffin to his room.
The gravedigger’s desk is tidy, a stark contrast to his work desk. There is a plant and its glasses in one place, stapler and an organized pile of documents.
A picture frame was facing the other way. In the middle, a computer, which was not new, but did its job well.
Coffin surrounded the table, sitting on the swivel chair, Briefcase stood beside him, watching the screen on a site with several fields to fill.
"See? He’s been like this for an hour! I can’t move or type anything..."
The frustrated voice of the highest, always so calm, makes the briefcase move.
"Excuse me, friend" Briefcase leans forward, grabbing the mouse and shifting it sideways.
The gravedigger sighs, defeated:
"Oh, I like good old manual work better... These technologies make me feel old..."
"Don’t say that..." The businessman moves his eyes from the screen to the colleague "You look great...! And it’s going very well, everything is a matter of adaptation..."
Coffin raises one of the eyebrows, bland, before thanking.
"Thank you so much..."
Brief already has eyes on the screen, a pop-up appears to warn that there is no account logged into the site.
"Oh, that must be it." He moves the cursor to the login page "Do you already have an account on the site?"
The coffin moves, trying not to touch the friend, blinking at the screen.
"No, it’s the first time I use this site..." assumes
"Huh, ok! Let’s create an account, so you can use and make the forms" replies and leans back for a moment, adjusting the glasses.
"Am I not wasting your time?"
"Oh, don’t worry. There’s no time wasted with you, mate. I promised to help, right?" He pokes his chest
Coffin smiles with play, moving his fingers anxiously over the table.
And then, Briefcase started rambling about how to create the account.
"You will need an email.."
…
"A password for the..."
…
"It needs to be at least 8 characters long..."
…
"And then you..."
...
Coffin knew he should pay attention, after all, his friend was dedicating his precious time in it. But all Coffin did was look his colleague in the face.
He always admired the way Briefcase spoke, was kind and balanced. The briefcase was always adored by everyone, always respectable with all teachers and objects (even Warren!). It was admirable, anyway.
Coffin let himself wander through the thoughts, descending his eyes through the animated face of the other, descending to his mouth.
A thought arose in your mind, blushing when it should not.
"Coffin? Are you listening to me?"
He grabbed the edge of the table to see his colleague (colleague?) looking, furrowed eyebrows.
"I’m sorry! I got distracted." He tried his best to hide the flagrante by grabbing the mouse over the other teacher’s hand "and then after doing the two-step check-"
"You were looking at me."
He opens his mouth and closes quickly, his calm and subtle voice abandons him to his fate. His eyes were still on the computer screen, but the reflection showed Briefcase still looking at him.
The gravedigger notes that he holds his hands tight on the mouse.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t want-" He moves his hands to his lap, lowering his gaze
"Coffin"
"But I just got lost in the thoughts-"
"Coffin"
"This technology thing is not for me, I’m sorry to make you waste your time-"
"Coffin, it’s okay."
He stops rambling, lungs out of breath and face burning. Something in the corner of his mind resonates when the briefcase smiled adorably, an impulse being taken.
The gravedigger does not think much, he just gently took his hands from the briefcase and pulls close, but who advances is the other.
A kiss on non-existent lips.
A hammer inside the chest still says that Coffin is alive, blood still flows and Briefcase’s hands squeeze his.
The angle is complicated, he is almost sure that hit the glasses of the smallest.
When they separate, he feels soft watching the businessman fix the glasses on his face. Amazingly, it is Coffin who speaks
"You stole my chance" he jokes breathlessly, admiring when Briefcase just shakes his shoulders, without letting go of his hands.
"You were taking too long"