Work Text:
“Hey, Sasha?”
It was ten past three in the afternoon, and Tim was bored. It was too early to sneak off home, and really plenty of time to finish off what he was working on before the end of the day. But he didn’t particularly want to. Jon’s door was closed, he was probably doing one of his recordings, and Martin was out on some sort of field research, so it was only him and Sasha in the assistants office.
“Mmm,” Sasha answered absentmindedly. She was going between her computer, and the papers at her desk, occasionally underlining things, or typing things on her keyboard.
“Do you think Elias is gay?” Tim asked.
“Elias? Bouchard? Head of the institute?” She glanced up at him.
“The very same,” Tim said.
Sasha shrugged and turned over a paper on her desk, and kept underlining.
“I don't know. Don't really care, to be honest.”
“Why not?” Tim got up from his chair, and sat on the edge of Sasha’s desk instead. She didn’t pay him any attention, her eyes still in her papers. “Are you not interested in the human condition, Sasha James?”
“I'm not particularly interested in Elias' human condition. I think he's kind of a prick,” she said, and put a paper away to pick the next one on the pile.
“True. But a kind of hot prick,” Tim said.
Sasha finally looked up at him.
“Nooo… Tim… I don't like where this is going.”
“What?” He said with his most innocent voice. “I'm only theorising here. I'm bored, humour me.”
That was not entirely true. He was bored, yes. But his theorising was not only for theoretical purposes. Tim was horny. Somehow, his usual hookups were all too busy, or suddenly in a monogamous relationship, or slightly pissed off with him, and he was in a slump. Even going out to a club had been a misfire last time he tried, and he'd gone home alone. Sure, he could try the apps of course, but he didn't really like them. Call him old fashioned, but he much preferred meeting people face to face than chatting with strangers that you couldn't even know if they smelled good or not. There were a lot of weirdos out there, and he had no interest in being catfished. So, he had started to think about what people he had around him that he had not already fucked. Which colleagues were attractive, and might be in a position to go for a fun little thing with him. And his mind had wandered to Elias Bouchard, head of the Magnus Institute. His boss. Stuck up and with a reputation of being a little mean. Probably around twenty years Tim’s senior, in very good shape, but dressed as if he was a hundred years old. Inappropriate? Yes. Did it make it any less hot? Definitely, no.
Sasha finally relented to his efforts to get her to engage, sighing and putting her papers away, giving him her full attention.
“Okay, fine,” she said. “Do I think Elias Bouchard is gay? Hm. Well, he does look very neat and groomed and put together. But, then again, for that type of posh careerist, it doesn't have to mean anything more than keeping a professional appearance.”
“Right,” Tim said, encouraging her to continue.
“He promoted Jon instead of me, which… I don't know. I guess straight men don't have a monopoly on misogyny.”
“The gays can be dicks too, equal opportunity sport,” Tim said.
Sasha was quiet for a moment, contemplating.
“I've never seen him with anyone,” she said.
“Me neither. But I'm pretty sure his ears are pierced. Pretty unusual for a straight man his age, I'd say.”
“Really?” Sasha raised an eyebrow. “Never saw him with earrings.”
“No. Me neither. Maybe he keeps that for his gay club nights,” Tim said and winked. He tried to imagine Elias at a gay club, loud music blaring, sweaty bodies moving to the beat, people making out on the dance floor. Earrings or not, it was impossible to see Elias comfortable in such an environment. And apparently Sasha felt the same.
“Pff. Elias Bouchard, clubbing? Country club, perhaps,” she said.
“Right. Steam saunas and polo. Completely heterosexual, that,” Tim countered.
“We don’t even know that he goes to a country club. I made that up,” Sasha said.
“He looks like he would though, don’t you think?”
Sasha hesitated. “Maybe. But isn’t it more of a posh thing than a gay thing anyway?”
“Could be both.”
“Hm, sure.”
“So. What are we thinking? Elias Bouchard - gay, or not gay?” Tim said, leaning in over Sasha’s desk, chin resting in his hand.
“I don't know, Tim. Could go either way,” she answered.
“I guess there's only one way to find out,” Tim said. This conversation was unfolding just like he wanted, time to put the final step in his plans in motion. Sasha gave him a tired look.
“... I'm not going to like where this is going, am I?”
“If you hate fun!” Tim said, with a dazzling grin on his face.
Sasha let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, god. Tell me your idea of fun then.”
“Well.” Tim sat up straight again. ”We have an office party on Thursday. So, you and me, we both flirt with him, and… find out? Who he choses?”
“No thank you,” Sasha said immediately.
“Why nooot?”
“Where do I start? He's our boss. I don't like him. He's not my type. Besides, even if he was gay, how can you be so sure he'd go for you?”
Tim gasped theatrically and put a hand to his chest.
“I find that deeply insulting, Sasha. Have you seen me? Have you seen when I turn on my charm? Have you seen it through beer goggles? Yes you have, and you know how that ended.
“One time.”
“I seem to remember it was… three times? Before we both passed out,” Tim said with a grin. That had been some night, Sasha was a lot of fun in bed.
“Oh, shut up,” she said, giving him a murderous look. “And I'm not doing it.”
“I'm not saying you need to fully fuck him or anything. Just… flirt a bit. Push his buttons, see if he reacts. To either of us.”
“Oh, god, I was not even contemplating fucking him! Ew! Still no, Tim.”
“Fine. Spoil sport." Tim sighed and gave some thought to his problem. He was not ready to give up on his idea, now that he'd gotten it in his head. “Well, how about we make it a bet, then? See how far I can push him. Just me, you’re off the hook.”
“Hm.” Sasha rested her chin on her interlaced fingers, looking at Tim through narrowed eyes. “I'm listening.”
“Okay.” Finally some progress. Tim was speaking with excitement now, quickly making up the rules on the fly. The prize didn't matter as much as the game anyway. “So. I attempt to seduce him. If I get a positive reaction, you owe me lunch on Friday. If I manage a snog, you owe me lunch the whole next week as well. If I get inside his clothes, or he inside mine, two weeks. Full on devil's tango, the whole month.”
Sasha snorted. “You really think you'd be able to get that stuck up prick to sleep with you? I'll give you my Christmas bonus, and three months of lunches if you manage that.”
“Deal!” Tim said immediately.
“Oh, hey now,” she protested, "what's in it for me then? If you fail?”
“I don't know. What do you want?”
Sasha took a moment to think about it. Tim could practically see the light bulb over her head as she made up her mind.
“Aha! Do you remember those loose statements Jon asked me to staple together?” She said.
“Oh… no…” Tim did remember. He'd been tricked into helping her with those once already, and it had been pure torture.
“Oh, yes. I still have like six boxes to go. If you end up biting the dust, those are all yours to staple away.”
Tim let out a deep, guttural sound, somewhere between a groan and sigh. He hated that kind of work, he'd be bored out of his skull. “Fiiine.”
“And, you know the Lady Gaga t-shirt I borrowed for my walk of shame?” Sasha continued.
“Yeah?” He knew very well which one she meant. It was off-white, with a stylistic sketch of Gaga’s face in pink and black, and a piece of lyrics from just dance; ‘Where are my keys I lost my phone’. Tim loved that t-shirt.
“I want it.”
“Sasha! It's a rarity! It's from her first tour!”
“Mhm, and it's incredibly soft and looks really good on me. You better bring your A-game, and hope Mr Bouchard is into it.”
It was true. She had looked really good in it. Well, he felt pretty confident about his assessment of Elias' sexuality. He only needed a positive reaction to secure his win, it couldn't be that hard.
“You drive a hard bargain, miss James.” He reached out his hand for her to shake, and she took it.
“You’re on. Just, don’t get fired, Tim. Alright?”
“Relaaaax,” Tim drawled and leaned in over Sasha's desk, patting her on the shoulder. “I’m essential around here, I’ll be fine.”
Sasha raised an eyebrow. “Essential? How come you are the cause of neither of us doing any work for the last half hour then?”
“Team building is also important, Sasha. Social glue. Heightener of spirits and morale. That’s me.”
Sasha laughed and pushed on his hip to get him off her desk.
“How about you go and heighten morale back at your own desk for a while?”
“Fine.”
Tim sat down at his own desk and read through the report he’d been working on, and remembered why he’d been so bored. Victorian ghost child sighting at Marleybone Green playground. Read like the most basic of ghost stories; it was boring and so obviously concocted by someone with a low level of fantasy and a high level of need for attention. He wished people would at least make up something creative. He turned back to Sasha.
“Speaking of hot people doing hot people stuff… are you doing anything tonight?” he asked.
“Tim. I told you, it was a one time thing. I'm not interested in having an office romance.”
“It doesn't have to be particularly romantic.” Tim waggled his eyebrows and gave her an exaggerated wink, and was rewarded by a pen flying his way, which he successfully dodged.
“Down boy. I'm not that desperate,” Sasha said.
“Ouch.” Now she was just being cruel.
“Oh, you know what I mean. We had a good time, I just don't like to mix business and pleasure.”
“Fine. Another lonely evening with pornography it is, then.”
“I did not need to know that. You should count yourself lucky I don't report you to HR.”
“You wouldn’t. You like me too much.”
“Shut up and let me work, or that might change.”
~~~
Tim admired his own reflection in the hallway mirror before leaving home on Thursday morning. The 80’s stone washed levi’s he’d bought at a charity shop accentuated his slim waist, and did wonders for his arse. They were tight enough that he’d had to opt for thongs to avoid giving himself a wedgie, and the slight discomfort of the fabric between his arse cheeks just made him feel all the sexier. As a top, he’d chosen a short sleeved, black button down shirt with alternating sheer and opaque stripes that he’d tucked into his jeans. It was also a vintage find, slightly oversized, and very clearly showed off his nipple piercings through the sheer parts of the fabric. In his left nipple, he had a gold ring with a little red heart pendant, and on the right, a barbell with red rhinestones on each side. He added a subtle eyeliner, and some less subtle gold glitter on his eyelids. It was the festive season after all. Rather pleased with himself, he gave himself finger guns and a wink in the mirror, before pulling a red and white knitted christmas jumper on top of the shirt. After all, he didn’t want Jon to send him home to change into something more appropriate before the party even started. Granted, the jumper had small repeating patterns of three reindeer fucking each other, but you might miss it if you didn’t look closely, and he was counting on Jon being oblivious enough to not notice.
~~~
Jon actually did give his jumper the side eye when Tim came in - maybe he had noticed after all - but he didn’t said anything. Perhaps deciding to tone down his grumpiness for the day, in the spirit of Christmas. Or perhaps he had rightly assumed that what was underneath was no better.
Tim passed the whole day with little butterflies in his stomach. He knew it was risky, what he planned to do. But, it was also fun. If he’d just keep on the right side of plausible deniability, it shouldn’t be a fireable offense. Hopefully. And if he was really lucky, he might even get something out of it.
They had a little pre-gaming session in the assistants room during the afternoon, taking sips from a rum bottle Tim had gotten as a birthday present from Sasha, and serendipitously (on purpose) had left at the office. Tim had suggested a drinking game where they would all take a shot any time Jon sighed or grumbled loudly enough for them to hear all the way to the assistants room, or any time he said something rude to Martin. Sasha declined on account of not wanting to get shit faced, and Martin declined on account of “Jon just being under a lot of pressure” and “it seems cruel”. They settled for sneaking in a “never have I ever” any time Jon was not paying attention. Tim explicitly made sure that Martin would have to drink early on, so he would be an accomplice and less likely to lose his nerve and snitch to Jon. He was delighted when Sasha also drank to “never have I ever written a love poem”, and bullied her relentlessly for the sonnet she had written for a boy in her class when she was fourteen. Martin's poetry he'd already stumbled upon when looking for his notes on a statement, and he didn't want to tease him about it. Martin seemed fragile enough as it was. Though, he would really like to know who Mr Eyes-As-Deep-As-Wells was.
Just before they were going up to the party, Tim took the jumper off and left it on his chair. He could see out of the corner of his eyes that Martin's eyes grew wide, wandering his body and then looking away, his face bright pink. Tim smiled to himself. No mysteries about that man’s sexuality. Perhaps Tim should give it another go, getting Martin in bed with him. He was pretty hot, big and soft as he was. Tim could imagine being pinned down under him. Maybe he had some fun kinks - it was always the quiet ones, wasn’t it? But, other than blushing, he’d never gotten any real response when flirting with the man. He’d even gone so far as to outright ask if he’d want to come home with Tim for “tea” (with exaggerated air quotation marks and a wink) when they were out for some after work drinks, and Martin had just stuttered something and disappeared to the loo. He'd leave that project for now though, tonight he had other plans.
Sasha's reaction to his outfit was no less entertaining. She gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes and a muttered “good lord”.
“It’s not for you, Sasha.” Tim teased. “Hands off the merchandise, I’ve promised myself to someone else tonight.”
“Not what I meant,” Sasha replied. But he could see that her eyes lingered on his piercings. “I’m not drinking tonight,” she muttered. “Not much, at least. More than I already have.”
Tim gave her a dazzling grin. He still got it. He might be in a slump hookup wise, and his colleagues might not be willing to fuck him, but at least they did deem him fuckable. Good enough.
~~~
The Christmas party was held in the Institute cafeteria, appropriately decorated with streamers and lights and a festively adorned plastic tree in the corner. There were hors d'oeuvres, biscuits, crisps, a Christmas Bellini with cranberry and rosemary as a welcome drink, large bowls of Sangria, and big pump thermoses with mulled cider. Christmas music was playing in speakers placed in the corners of the room, seemingly a home cinéma set someone had dragged there for the day. The party committee had really done a great job of transforming the normally sterile cafeteria to a festive and cozy space.
Tim downed his welcome drink pretty fast, his nerves starting to get to him, and Sasha was starting to look a little nervous as well. She put a hand on his arm and pulled him closer so Martin wouldn't hear.
“Hey, Tim. Maybe this wager isn't such a good idea. I'm fine to cancel it if you are,” she said.
Tim scoffed, trying to sound more confident than he actually was. “Afraid of losing, are you? Bet is on, baby. No take backsies.”
Sasha rolled her eyes. “Fine, have it your way. I'm looking forward to collecting my spoils. If you get yourself fired I'm going to kick your butt though.”
“I won't. Relax,” Tim said, and took out the flask of rum he'd put in his pocket, taking a sip to try to actually make himself relax a little. It would be fine. He could do this.
~~~
“Double boss! Looking sharp tonight.” Tim fired off his best, most charming smile as he squeezed into the little group next to Elias. It had only taken him one additional apple cider, spiked from his flask, before he'd built up the liquid courage to talk to his boss. The alcohol was buzzing in his blood, and he was feeling rather sexy and confident at the moment. So he'd better strike while the iron was hot.
“Mister Stoker.” Elias' attention was pulled away from the large, white haired man he'd been talking to, and he looked Tim up and down before answering in a dry tone. “Thank you. You are certainly… dressed to turn heads, yourself.”
Tim grinned. “Why, thank you.”
He knew the compliment was slightly backhanded, but he didn't care. He'd gotten a reaction. He could have sworn there was a hunger in Elias' eyes as they noticed his piercings through the thin fabric, lingering a second or two longer than necessary.
Elias really was looking sharp. The man was always impeccably dressed, but tonight, he had clearly stepped up his game. A bit old fashioned perhaps, but dashing nonetheless. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, an emerald green waistcoat with a gold chain going from one of the buttons to the pocket, presumably to a pocket watch. The necktie that Tim had assumed to be black was actually maroon upon closer inspection. Elias' nod to the season, no doubt, although a subtle one. (Tim wondered if he found bright reds too garish.) Furthermore, attached to Elias’ shirt collar, there were some kind of gold ornaments with two gold chains in-between. Tim reached out and grabbed the little pin in the buttonhole to study it closer. It had the shape of an eye, with a green iris.
“Huh. Pretty. What do you call this thing? Is it some sort of evil eye amulet?”
Elias grabbed Tim's wrist and pulled his hand away from his collar, and Tim realised how close he was standing, Elias' face only inches away, grey eyes stern and fixed on his. God, this man was so sexy. The manhandling, the look in his eyes, cold, a little dangerous, hungry. It felt like there were sparks flying between them and before Elias spoke, Tim almost thought he would kiss him, hard and bruising. Or slap him.
“It's a collar chain. And yes, I suppose you could call it an evil eye amulet. If you like,” Elias said dryly.
He let him go, and Tim took a half step back, awakened from his stupor.
“Right. Right, it's… pretty,” he repeated. Then he remembered the drinks in his hand. Two cups of cider, one for him, one for Elias.
“Right, um, I brought you a mulled cider. With a little something extra.” He winked and held out the mug to Elias, who just gave it a suspicious look, and then looked back up at him.
“Oh! Rum. It's rum. I'm not trying to poison you or date rape you or anything.” Oh god, why did he say that? He was supposed to be smooth. Shit. “I mean, you don't have to-”
Elias took the cup from his hand and gave him an amused and slightly arrogant smile.
“Well, if there is no intention of date rape, I don't see why not.”
“Right,” Tim answered, not sure what else to say.
Elias smirked and clinked his mug against Tim’s, and took a sip, making a face at the strength of it.
“So, mister Stoker, was there anything in particular on your mind, or..?”
“Oh. No, just, you know, mingling. Thought I'd say hi. Just Tim is fine, by the way.”
“Right, of course. Tim. So, how are things going in the Archives? How are you finding your new position? Settling in?”
“Yes. Yes, I am, it's great. Very interesting stuff. A little dark in the basement, of course, you hardly know what time of the day or what season it is, but… yeah. It's good.”
“I'm glad to hear it. And how is our new Archivist?” Elias asked.
“Jon? Oh, he's, you know, full of fervour. Organising things. Apparently Gertrude left in quite the state, bless the old lady.”
“Hm. I can imagine. I don't see him here?” Elias' eyes wandered around the room, and Tim wished he would look at him instead. What's so special about Jon, anyway?
“Oh, no,” Tim said with a shrug. “He was still working when we went up. Busy bee that one. All work and no play makes Jon-”
“Well, I'd really like to see him up here,” Elias interrupted. “The archivist is an important position, and this party is not just for…” he eyed Tim's outfit again, once again lingering on his piercings “... letting loose. It's also about meeting and greeting our benefactors. As I was just trying to do.”
He pointedly looked to his side, where the large man had been standing. Only now did Tim realise that he'd vanished as soon as Tim had opened his mouth.
“Right. Of course. I'll leave you to it then, shall I?”
“That would be splendid. Oh, and Tim?” He placed a hand on Tim's arm just as he has turned to leave, and it made Tim's heart jump.
“Yes?”
“Would you please tell Martin to go downstairs and fetch Jonathan,” Elias said, to Tim's disappointment.
“Right-o, boss. Will do.”
“Elias.”
“What?”
“It's only fair, isn't it? If I call you Tim, that you call me Elias.”
“Alright. Elias. See you around.” Tim gave Elias a quick salute, and made his way back towards Martin, who was standing to the side fiddling with his phone, looking rather out of place. He had been talking to a girl from the library when he and Sasha left him, but apparently she had abandoned him for the small dance floor that was starting to form. Sasha joined him on the way there, putting her arm through his.
“That was pathetic,” she said, voice annoyingly gleeful. “Better dig up that t-shirt from your wardrobe when you get home.”
“Pff. Not a chance. He stared at my nips, touched me, twice, and asked me to call him Elias. And the evening has just started. Better watch that Christmas bonus.”
Sasha laughed. “Fat chance. But I am looking forward to act two of that little show you put on.”
“Yeah, you should. It's going to get sexy. Hey, Mart-o! Double boss wants you to go downstairs to get Jon. He says he should be here playing nice and rubbing elbow grease with investors.”
Martin looked up from his phone, looking decidedly distressed. “Me? Why me? He hates me. He won't do anything I tell him to, especially not something he definitely doesn't want to do.”
Tim raised an eyebrow. Martin wasn’t usually so outspoken about things, and he especially never complained about Jon, no matter how much of a dick Jon was being. Must be the drink, removing some filters. Tim felt bad that he hadn’t realised how miserable Martin must be, with Jon always getting on his case about this thing or the other. He really should put more of an effort into including the man. He seemed lonely.
Tim put a hand on Martin’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Hey. Martin. It's not you, okay? He's just a big old grouch, and I think he's a bit overwhelmed with this new position, and he takes it out on you. It's shitty and unfair, but I promise, his bark is worse than his bite.”
“Yeah. He's still gonna bark, though.”
“Hm.” That was probably true. He really should have a talk with Jon about how he was treating Martin. He was making the man a nervous wreck, and for no reason other than his own insecurities. In the meantime, perhaps he could at least help Martin with a small olive branch.
“Well, tell you what,” Tim said, "Jon likes wine. Ask Clara in the party committee, the girl with the short brown hair, to give you a glass of prosecco without the cranberry juice and all that stuff. Tell her Tim-” he suddenly remembered how things ended with Clara. “Actually, on second thought, don't mention my name. At all. Just say your friend is allergic to cranberries, she's nice, she'll fix it for you.”
“Oh. Thanks, Tim.” Martin looked relieved.
“Don't mention it. Good luck with the Grinch in the basement.”
Sasha nudged him with her elbow after Martin had left. “So? What's act two?”
“Act two, my dear Sasha, involves me dropping something on the floor and picking it up, so mister boss man can admire how glorious my rear end looks in these jeans. But first, sangria!”
~~~
“Morning,” Sasha whispered in his ear, and Tim’s whole body cringed, planted face down on his desk as he was.
“Ow. Loud,” he mumbled.
“I was whispering,” Sasha countered.
“Yeah, loudly,” Tim said and turned his head to look at her. “Why do you look all fresh and dewy?”
“Because I didn't spike every single drink I had yesterday, and I had every other water. Plus, you know, make up.” She put her hands under her chin, like she was posing for a glossy magazine cover. “You know that apple cider you spiked with rum was already pre-spiked with rum by the way?” she continued.
“What?” Tim had not known that. That explained why it had tasted more like rum than cider.
“Mhm.” Sasha patted his head, and then tried to slide a paper under it. It got stuck to his slightly damp forehead and was half hanging out of the desk, and she left it there. “Here, this is for the vampire case.”
Tim sat up properly and eyed the paper while Sasha went back to her desk. Names and phone numbers. Good, that was actually going to be helpful, when he had the energy to properly deal with it. He sighed.
“God. My head is killing me. Hope you brought your big girl purse for the large and greasy lunch you're buying me today.”
“I'm not buying you lunch. You lost,” Sasha said.
“I did not! Oh, nghgg…” Tim made his head hurt from his own shouting. “I did not,” he whispered. “I got a reaction from him. He was definitely checking me out.”
“Yes, but it was supposed to be a positive reaction. He looked like he wanted to murder you.”
“No no, he looked like he wanted to flog me. In a sexy way,” Tim said, waggling his eyebrows as much as he could without worsening the headache.
Just then he noticed that Martin had walked in through the door, holding two tea cups, eyes wide and blush creeping up his neck.
“I, uh- J-just passing through. Don’t mind me,” he said, and hurried into Jon’s office with the tea, closing the door behind him.
Tim made a face at Sasha.
“Whoops?”
“He’ll recover,” she said. “Anyway, agree to disagree. Anyone would stare at your nipples, Tim, because they were staring back. That doesn’t mean he was checking you out in a positive way. And Elias was definitely not amused when you put an arm around his shoulder and ‘whispered’,” Sasha made air quotes, “very loudly, that you could give him a premium tour of the archives, show him what we’ve ‘done to the place’. Specifically where Jon keeps a cot for late nights.”
“Oh, god.” Tim groaned and planted his head back on the desk. “I said that?”
“Mhm.”
“Fuck. I don’t remember that,” he said. Come to think of it, he did not remember all that much in general after the napkin drop to show off his arse, except some loose and blurry images of dancing and singing along to Beyonce, Elias' face looking at him sternly, and close ups of plastic tree branches and baubles, whatever that was about. “Actually, how did I even get home?”
“I put you in a taxi. After you asked Elias for a kiss goodnight.”
“No! No, you’re lying. Please, no.” Tim sat up straight and stared at her, feeling cold sweat down his back. That was definitely not something that went under plausible deniability. God, he was going to get fired.
“Actually, yes, that was a lie,” Sasha said, barely holding back her laughter. “But only the kiss part.
“Evil, evil woman,” Tim muttered.
“Harsh thing to say to the woman who made sure you threw up in the loo, and not in the Christmas tree foot, and practically carried you to a taxi,” she countered.
Well, that explained the close ups of branches, at least. “Fine. Thank you, I suppose.”
“You’re welcome,” Sasha said with a benevolent smile.
“I still think he liked what he saw,” Tim pressed on. “If you’d been in my spot when he grabbed my arm, you’d have known. There was tension,” he said. “Sexy tension.”
“Hm. Highly subjective and hardly provable,” Sasha said with a nonchalant shrug.
Tim groaned. “Please, Sasha. Cut me some slack. Show some kindness to a dying man. Give me a small win, won't you?”
“Alright, you know what. Since we can't unequivocally decide if the reaction was positive or not, let's call it a tie,” she said.
“Fine.” Tim supposed that was as good as he was going to get. Small wins.
“I'll buy you lunch today, and you can choose my price. Either the stapling or the t-shirt.”
Tim groaned. It hardly seemed fair, he was just getting one measly lunch out of it, Sasha’s spoils seemed much better. “Really?”
“In my opinion, I'm letting you off easy,” Sasha said.
“Fine. The t-shirt,” Tim decided.
“Really? You’d really do anything to avoid work, wouldn't you?”
“To avoid boring work, yes. My work morale is just fine when I'm doing fun work, thank you very much.”
“Alright, have it your way. Here, catch!”
Sasha hurled something at him, and Tim's reflexes were too slow, the plastic tube hit him in the cheek and rolled over his desk down to the floor.
“Ow! What the hell?”
“Electrolytes and painkiller combo. Have some, it helps.”
Tim grumbled a thank you, picked the container up and popped two tablets to dissolve in the water glass Martin discreetly had placed in front of him earlier, staring grumpily at them until they were fully dissolved. He downed the glass in one fell swoop, and then tried to focus on work.
He had just begun to feel better, and actually started to get some work done, when Jon popped into the assistant's office half an hour later.
“Tim? Elias wants to talk to you. He just called me on the intercom,” he said.
Jon looked suspicious, perhaps even jealous at Tim being called up to the big bosses office. He wouldn't have, if he knew what this was about. Tim felt a cold sweat break out again. Fuck. This was not going to be good. Well, better take the bull by the horns.
~~~
“Ah, Tim. Sit down. And close the door behind you.”
Tim did as he was told, while Elias got up from his desk to pour an amber liquid from a glass carafe on the shelf behind him, and leaned over his desk to place the glass in front of Tim. “Hair of the dog? You look like you might need it.”
Tim stared at the glass, not sure what to do. Was this a test? Would he get fired if he accepted an alcoholic drink at 10:30 in the morning? Elias gave him an amused smile.
“I am not trying to poison you, Tim. Or, what was it… yes, date rape you.” Elias’ let out a small chuckle, and Tim felt his whole body flush with the shame of what he'd said the night before. And that was when he was relatively sober, who knows what atrocities he might have uttered later on.
Elias turned back to the shelf and poured another glass. “See, I'll join you.” He took a sip. “Now we are both complicit in day time drinking, and if it's poisoned, I go down with you.”
Elias raised the glass to him, and Tim nodded, raised his own glass, and took a sip. It was whiskey. Smooth and rich, no doubt expensive. Not that Tim was a big connoisseur, but he could tell the cheap stuff from the good stuff. And this was definitely the latter.
“Now, Tim,” Elias continued, settling back in his chair and getting down to business. “If I’m being honest, I’m not immune to flattery, and I do not get propositions such as yours quite as often as I used to. But still, that little display you put up yesterday, it’s hardly appropriate for a work place, and the same goes for your outfit.”
Tim nodded. That was about what he’d expected to hear. Though, the part about Elias being flattered was certainly an interesting detail.
”In any case,” Elis continued, ”I wish you would not have done all that in front of my husband. He doesn't like to admit he gets jealous, but he does.”
“Y-your husband?” Tim’s jaw dropped. The man had a husband? Not only was he gay, but he was gay married? Tim searched his mind, trying to figure out who Elias could possibly mean. Then he remembered the man Elias had been talking to when he first approached him, and whom he caught glaring at him from the back of the room at one point. “Wait, that large, pale man with the beard? The guy who seemed to want to melt into the walls? I thought he was one of our investors.”
“He is. He is also my husband. Peter Lukas,” Elias said.
“Ooh. Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I didn't know. You're not wearing a ring?”
“No. Not at the office. I like to keep my private life, well, private.”
“Look, I'm sorry, had I known you were spoken for-”
Elias scoffed. “Spoken for? How old fashioned of you. Do I seem like I cannot speak for myself? Are we in the Victorian era, where my husband owns me?”
“I… no… what? No, I didn't mean that. Look, Elias, how much trouble am I in? I didn't mean any disrespect, really, it was just a bit of fun. Which, I realise now, was not at the right time nor place.” God, this was bad. He had flirted with a married man, who was also his boss, in front of said boss's husband, and now he managed to insult him as well. Yeah, he was probably in a lot of trouble.
“Well, that rather depends,” Elias said, leaning back and clasping his hands
“On what?”
“On if that ‘bit of fun’ was intended at my expense, or for me to take equal enjoyment in.”
“I…” Those were a lot of long words in one sentence, and Tim's brain was not cooperating. Equal enjoyment? What?
“Let me put this bluntly,” Elias said, “as I can see the hangover is dulling your faculties. Did you sincerely want to fuck me, or were you just trying to make a fool out of me?”
“Oh.” Tim's face flushed hot. “The former. Yeah. No, you're hot. I did want to fuck you, yes.”
Elias' expression didn't move a millimetre, he was looking into Tim’s eyes, completely calm and serious.
“And, can I assume you are still so inclined?”
“Um.” He looked at the stern, handsome man behind the desk, and the answer came without thinking. ”Yes.”
“I’m glad to hear that," Elias said with a smile. "Now, Tim, are you a top or a bottom?”
“Oh. Both, I mean vers. Either. I like both.” What was even happening right now? Tim’s mouth was all dry, and he took a rather large sip of the whiskey, almost making himself cough as it burned on the way down. Elias paid no mind to his stifled wheeze though.
“Very good. So am I,” Elias said, and looked Tim over from top to toe, as if assessing what to do with him. It made him squirm in his seat, a little self conscious about the rather unsexy outfit he was wearing, compared to all the effort he’d put in yesterday. It didn’t seem to matter to Elias though, his eyes on Tim felt hungry, predatory.
“My husband is a top,” Elias said finally. “It's been a while since I got to put my cock in someone young and pretty. If you are willing?”
“Yeah. Yeah, definitely.” Tim’s heart was beating hard in his chest. The whole situation was absurd. It was still morning, he had remains of yesterday's eyeliner smeared around his eyes, the taste of whiskey on his tongue, his mind was swimming in the humiliation of yesterday's drunken actions. And here he was, in his boss's office, not being told off. He was being asked to bottom for his hot but kind of arrogant boss. And his mouth was apparently disconnected from his brain, unable to say anything but yes.
“Well then.” Elias gave him an appreciative nod. “Lock the door. And get undressed.”
“Wh- now?”
“Unless you're too hung over to give it your best?”
“No, I'm… I'm good. Fine.” Was he? He really hoped so. Sasha’s electrolytes had helped with the headache, and the whiskey had perked him up a bit too. He really couldn’t afford getting queasy while sucking his boss’s dick or something, but he wasn’t sure he could afford to say no either. It didn’t sound like he would get fired if he did, but… honestly, he wasn’t sure the offer would come back, and he had to admit that he wasn’t keen on missing the opportunity. Plus, he would most definitely win the bet. He got up and locked the office door, and then stood in the middle of the room, self consciously scratching his arm.
“Go ahead,” Elias said softly and nodded to him, taking a sip of his whiskey.
“Right.” Tim took a deep breath and pulled his hoodie over his head. He had nothing underneath. He hadn’t expected to take it off, so he simply hadn’t bothered. The nipple piercings from yesterday were still in though. The trousers he’d chosen were actually joggers that looked like proper slacks if you squinted, at least good enough to get away with without Jon muttering about dress codes. He untied the draw string and slid them to the floor, and stepped out of his shoes and socks. Taking a glance at Elias, noticing his disapproving eyes on the trousers on the floor, he picked them up and hung them on the back of the chair. His underwear were already tenting, and he gave Elias a look for confirmation before sliding them to the floor as well, and putting them up on the chair. Elias was watching him with a small smile on his lips, eyes lingering on his burgeoning erection, slowly sipping his whiskey. As Tim was finally naked, Elias rounded the desk for a closer inspection, Tim’s heart skipping a beat when he stepped in so close that he could feel Elias body heat radiating from him. Elias ran his fingers down Tim’s shoulder, down to his left nipple, circling it, and then tugged on the ring attached to it, making Tim gasp.
“Mm. I like these.” His fingers continued to the other nipple, flicking the piercing there, making Tim bite his lip to stifle a moan.
Elias moved his hand to Tim's face, brushing his thumb along Tim's bottom lip. The sensation sent a shiver through Tim's whole body, and his lips parted, letting out heavy breaths. Elias eyes were fixed on his mouth as his thumb pulled his lip down slightly, wetting it with his saliva on the next caress. He took a hold of Tim's chin, opening his mouth, and slowly sliding his index finger and middle finger down along his tongue. Tim's eyes grew wide, and he tried his best to keep his cool and not gag as Elias finger dipped into his throat. He was panicking a little, not sure he would manage, with the slight queasiness from the hangover. Thankfully, Elias pulled them back to just rest on his tongue, and Tim swallowed around them.
"Perhaps not today, hm? Compromised as you are," Elias said, and Tim nodded as Elias slowly slid his fingers out and down to his lip. Not today? Did that mean there might be another day for that?
Elias wet fingers continued dragging down his chin, to his chest and stomach, slowly, caressing his abs, his gaze appreciatively following them.
“Not bad. You take good care of yourself, Tim.”
He circled Tim’s navel, dipping into it, leaving it wet and cool with saliva, and continued down his stomach, past his cock and down to his balls, the light touch making Tim shiver and draw a gasping breath.
“Shaved too,” Elias said, as his fingers were grazing the smooth skin on Tim's balls. “Is that for my benefit?”
Tim liked to keep himself shaved, but he definitely had made sure he was freshly hairless for the party yesterday. Not that he’d actually expected things to go this far, but it helped with his confidence, knowing he was smooth and ready.
“Um. Yeah. Kind of.”
“That’s certainly something I can appreciate in an employee. Dedication.”
Elias cupped his balls, making him groan, and his cock twitch in response.
“You know what else I appreciate?” He leaned in and whispered in Tim’s ear, while still holding his balls. “Obedience.”
Tim swallowed hard. Fuck, this was hot. He’d never been one for authority when it came to work, but in the bedroom, that was completely different story. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to obey. He nodded.
“Yes. Sir.”
Elias let out a pleased laugh, and let go of his balls, backing away.
“Very good. Now, get on your knees on the sofa, back to me.”
While Tim did as he was told, Elias opened a drawer in his desk and fetched something. He came back to hand Tim a tube of lubricant.
“Here. Finger yourself open, please,” he said.
Tim nodded and took the tube. Apparently Elias was more into watching, rather than doing much. Fine, that was honestly quite sexy, standing there naked and exposed and being told what to do, while Elias was watching, fully dressed. Tim pushed his arse out, and slicked up his fingers, sliding in first one, and then two fingers into himself. He glanced back at Elias as he moved his fingers in and out, spreading them to open himself up. Elias was leaning against his desk, whiskey glass in one hand, his other on the desk, watching him raptly. He wasn’t touching himself at all, but Tim could see the clear tenting in his expensive wool slacks. Elias took a sip from the whiskey, and licked his lips after. His gaze was hot and dark and a little predatory, and it made Tim even hornier. God, he really longed to have Elias actually inside him, actually touching him, instead of just watching. His fingers were sliding rather easily now, and he added a third for good measure. It made him groan and buck his hips, but he was getting rather impatient now. Fingering himself he could do at home. He’d been promised cock.
“Yeah, I think I’m ready,” he said.
“You sure?” Elias asked, a crooked smile on his lips.
“All good and slippery for you, boss.” Tim pulled his fingers out and leaned down, spreading his cheeks and wiggling his arse a little
Elias laughed and put the glass away, coming up behind him. Suddenly, a rather cold finger slid inside him, and Tim twitched, letting out a surprised gasp. Elias other hand landed on his arse, spreading him open, and he replaced one finger with two, sliding them in and out and then curling them, until they found that sweet spot, making Tim groan and grip the leather sofa so hard it squeaked.
“Mhnnn!”
“Ah, there it is. Good.”
Elias pulled his fingers out, and Tim could hear him opening his zipper. Then he felt the warmth of Elias cock placed between his cheeks, slowly sliding against him. Though the silky feeling of his skin felt incredible, alarm bells immediately went off.
“Wait! Condom!” Tim said. He never did it without a condom, that was really a hard limit for him no matter if it was his boss or not.
“Ah,” Elias said, and pulled back. “Quite right. With the way you sleep around, that's probably a good idea.”
Tim looked back at him, incredulous.
“Really? Are you seriously slut shaming me right now?”
“Merely stating a fact, Tim.” Elias was already back at his desk, opening the same drawer as before, producing some tissues and a condom. “Am I wrong?” he asked, as he turned back to him.
Tim’s anger was flaring up. His private life was hardly any of his boss's business. Besides, he was always more than careful.
“I always use protection and I test regularly. Why the fuck are you keeping track of my love life?”
“Love life, hm? You love all those people?” Elias came to stand behind him, sliding two fingers inside him again, and Tim groaned and arched his back as he pushed against his prostate.
“Oh, fuck you. You know what I mean,” he retorted, as soon as he could speak again.
“I think I’d rather fuck you, Tim.” He took Tim's lube slick hand and wiped it off with a tissue, before continuing his orders. “Now, hands against the wall, arse out.”
Tim muttered some obscenities to himself, but he did as he was told. He was way too horny to let a little insult ruin everything. Soon, Elias was behind him, rubber clad dick in hand, pushing into him.
“Oh, fuck!” Tim groaned as Elias pushed past his rim. He was bigger than Tim had expected, for a slim man of below average height. Elias let out a pleased moan, his hands on Tim’s arse cheeks.
“Not too much, I hope?” he said, sounding rather pleased with the reaction he’d gotten.
“No,” Tim responded through gritted teeth. He could take it, he’d had big cocks in him before. Usually, he’d seen them first and been prepared, though. And Elias had been conveniently behind a desk the only time he’d looked at him when his dick was out. It stung, but he could take it.
“Good. Good boy,” Elias whispered. Tim was just about to protest. Good boy? What the fuck? But Elias drove into him, and he lost both his train of thought and ability to speak.
Elias went slow at first, respectful enough to let him get used to his girth and length, but as soon as Tim got warmed up enough to relax his body and enjoy being filled, Elias started to pound him, hard. And it felt fucking good. The way he was so fucking filled up, feeling like a hand puppet controlled by his arrogant boss, the way Elias cock stroke against his prostate with every thrust, the sheer inappropriateness of this happening in his superiors office, barely eleven in the morning… It was all adding up to among the hottest sex of his life, to be honest, and he was getting close. He’d never really been able to come hands free though, so he caught onto his cock that was bobbing between his legs at every thrust, and started wanking himself, while Elias kept taking him. And god, it was even better, almost making him lose his sense of reality, eyes rolling back as he was just a second away from-
Then his hand was yanked away.
“W-what?” he said, confused, and then his wrist was pulled behind his back, held in almost a police grip. “Ow?”
“Hush,” was all Elias said, before putting his leg up on the sofa, getting him closer to Tim and giving him a more downward angle. He gripped Tim’s hip tighter with his other hand, and pushed his back down with the hand holding his arm, and started driving harder into him. The new angle was hitting Tim's prostate more directly, and he couldn't control the sounds he made as Elias thrusts where punching the breath out of him, making him see stars. His cock was once again bobbing abandoned between his legs, achingly hard, primed to explode, but robbed of the trigger that would allow it. God, it was almost torture, it felt so damn good, so intense, almost too much, and he really, really needed to come. It felt like he might die if he couldn't. Tim was struggling to keep himself upright now, with only the one hand to balance him against the wall, and Elias truly pounding into him. He was just going harder and harder, and Tim could hear on his moans that he was getting close. Soon, Elias pushed deep into him, groaning as he held still there, throbbing, no doubt filling up that condom - Tim could feel the heat of it. His’s own cook was twitching, longing for attention, painfully hard and abandoned. It would feel so damn good to be able to push himself that final step over the edge, climax while Elias was still in him, he wouldn't need much, just a hand, a few strokes. But apparently, Elias did not care about that. As it were, Tim could do nothing but wait until Elias was satisfied and pulled out of him, letting go of that police grip, and leaving him empty and gaping. Tim turned around, massaging his wrists, giving Elias an angry look.
“What the actual fuck, Elias? I was about to come,” he said.
“I know. You were just about to ejaculate on my leather sofa. And I would prefer that you didn’t,” Elias said, matter-of-factly, while he tied up the condom and threw it in the bin, and tucked himself back into his trousers.
Tim just stared at him. That’s why he was robbed of his orgasm? The fucking sofa? The tissues were right there.
“So I’m just going to go back to the office with my hard-on then?”
“I have a private washroom connected through there.” Elias pointed at a door. “You are welcome to use it and finish yourself off.”
Tim just blinked. Had he just thought of this as one of the best fucks of his life? How wrong he’d been. Not only had he been repeatedly disrespected, which, ok, he could accept as a kink. He was not completely against that. Then, he’d had to finger himself open - fine, being watched was kind of a turn-on. But now he would have to jack himself off too, if he wanted to come? Alone, in the loo? It seemed like he was really doing all the work here, for very little return.
Elias wiped his fingers on a tissue, and then looked at Tim with his head tilted to his side. “Fine. You’re right, it’s hardly fair. I’ll give you a hand, shall I?”
Tim gave him a confused look. Had he said any of that out loud? Surely he hadn’t. Was he that transparent?
“I… uh… It’s fine, I can do it,” he said. He’d already started to soften, and suddenly felt a bit awkward about the whole thing.
“Nonsense. I don’t want to be known as an unfair boss. Or a selfish lover, for that matter. Just because I care about… cleanliness. Come.”
Elias took his hand, and pulled him towards the washroom door, and Tim didn’t know what else to do but follow. So he did.
The washroom was nicer than any other loo in the institute. It was large, tiled in green and grey, with a shower, and, strangely enough, a full length mirror. Elias positioned Tim in front of it, and stood behind him, and arm snaking around his body, grabbing his cock. There was nowhere else Tim’s eyes could go, but to himself, watching Elias hand working him, the flush of his own cheeks, the trembling in his legs. At least, that kept him from looking at Elias, whose eyes were fixed on his face through the mirror. That was just too much. That self-satisfied smirk on Elias' face, the grey eyes that felt like they looked inside him. His hand was deft though, working Tim's cock just right, as if he knew exactly how he liked to be touched, what pace he needed. Elias other hand was on his left nipple, pinching it, tugging and twisting his piercing, the pain of it heightening Tim's pleasure, making his mind go a bit blank. It felt good, really good. Soon enough, Tim felt that familiar pressure building up, the promise of a sweet release. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation. Just as the final dam broke, his hips clenching, his balls tightening and the heat of his cum rushing out of his shaft, he felt sharp teeth in his shoulder. He cried out and opened his eyes, to see Elias' mouth on his skin, just beneath his neck, his grey eyes still watching him, and Tim’s own spend splashing across the mirror. Elias' hand kept moving, his lips now tightly enclosing Tim's skin, sucking a mark into it, and Tim groaned and shot another load, painting a second streak across the mirror, his legs trembling from the exertion and his vision going white for a moment. Elias' hand, slippery with Tim’s cum, kept stroking him slowly as he softened, and it was becoming too much, he was too sensitive, it was almost agony.
“S-stop. Too much,” Tim managed to whimper out.
“Ah.” Elias promptly removed his hands and placed a soft kiss over the mark he'd made, before letting Tim go and quickly washing off his hands in the sink.
“Feel free to clean yourself up,” Elias said over his shoulder, while wiping his hands dry. “Take your time.”
“Yeah. Right. Thanks,” Tim said, his hand leaning against the wall, a bit disoriented and breathless, his legs all wobbly.
“Oh, and Tim?” Elias stopped and turned at the door.
“Yes?”
“The mirror too, please.”
“Right. Sure, boss,” he said.
As soon as he had somewhat returned to his faculties and could stand without his knees giving out under him, Tim begrudgingly cleaned the mirror, and cleaned himself up, best as he could. He would have liked to use the shower, but there were no towels, so he had to make do with wiping himself off with damp paper towels. He studied the love bite on his shoulder in the mirror. It was a reddish purple mark, and there were still little indentations of teeth around it. Bastard, marking him like that. And so close to his neck too, he would need to be careful what he was wearing the coming weeks. Well, at least he had proof to show, if Sasha didn't believe him when he told her that Elias had fucked him in his office, on company time.
When he got back into Elias’ office (naked, since Elias had not had the decency to bring him his clothes), Elias was at his desk, absorbed in paperwork as if nothing had happened, reading and signing and moving papers. Tim gathered up his clothes and shoes and put them on, and was just about to leave, when Elias put the papers down and looked up at him.
“Have a seat, Tim. I'd like to have a little chat before you go.”
Tim let out a deep sigh. He’d had about enough of the whole weirdness of the situation, and he could feel his headache creeping back. The sex had been good, sure, but weird and disorientating, and he'd like to just sneak away and take a breather, process what just happened. And also, to plan the most exciting and dramatic way to reveal his triumph to Sasha and claim his prize. He almost felt a bit bad about that Christmas bonus, perhaps he should cut her some slack on that part. Maybe. He couldn't think of any excuse to get out of Elias request for a chat though, so he did as he was told and sat in the chair opposite Elias desk.
“Right. Chat away, boss,” he said.
Elias refilled Tim’s glass with whiskey, and slid it towards him. Tim didn't take it.
“Now, I'm sure you are eager to run off and brag about this to your little friend, Sasha.”
“Noo…” Tim did his best to sound innocent. “I wouldn't.”
“You wouldn't? You're ready to take the loss on this bet? Was the sex really that good?” Elias gave him a smug smile over the rim of his whiskey glass.
“I… uh…”
“It was quite a lot of money, wasn't it? And some favours? Meals?” Elias continued.
“I- how-” Tim was lost. How did Elias know? There had only been the two of them in the office. Martin had been out, and Jon would hardly spy on them through a closed door, he didn’t care enough about office gossip to do that. Had he let it slip when he was drunk? Talked to loudly to Sasha at the party, and someone had heard? That must be it. Well, fuck.
“Now, I'd very much appreciate it if you didn't go around telling people about this. And don't think I wouldn't know. I knew about your little bet, didn't I?” Elias said.
Tim was starting to get angry. What the fuck was this? He was being threatened now? Fuck that. He didn’t have to take this load of bollocks.
“So what? You can't stop me from talking to my friends. And you can't exactly fire me for it, I'm sure HR would have something to say about what we just did, if I told them. And it would not be in your favour,” he said.
“No. You’re right, I can't stop you from talking to your friends. Or HR.” Elias was infuriatingly calm. “Just like you can't stop me from telling Sasha what really happened to her favourite scarf either, can you?”
“What?” Tim just stared at him. He couldn’t… that was impossible.
Elias tutted reproachfully.
“Jacking off in the office? You know, only that would be enough to get you fired in most places, Tim. But I'm not petty about such things. After all, you didn't disturb anyone. Except Sasha's scarf.”
The thought of that scarf put a pit of unease in his stomach. He had felt so guilty about that. Still did.
“I didn't… I didn't mean to,” Tim said, hating how pitiful he sounded.
“No, I’m sure it was an accident that you ejaculated on it. She might even forgive you for that. After all, you didn't know that it was given to her by her late grandmother. And that it was pure silk, and shouldn't be washed on a normal wash program. You couldn't have known it would make all the colours bleed, and the edges twisted. She might forgive you for that too,” Elias said, giving him a soft, false smile. “But,” he continued, “do you think she would forgive you for keeping it, instead of telling her what happened? That you sometimes smell her perfume on it while you get yourself off, thinking about that one night you had together? Will your friendship survive that? Would you like to explain to her why you have a folder on your phone with bikini pictures downloaded from her instagram?”
Tim's blood ran cold. He'd never told anyone any of that. He'd been alone at the archives that evening, he was sure of that. Even Jon had gone home early. And he sure as fuck hadn't told anyone about his wanking habits at home.
“How… how the fuck do you know any of that? Are there cameras in our offices? You can't have cameras without informing us.”
Elias shrugged.
“No cameras. I just… Well, I like to keep myself informed of what happens in my institute.”
Tim’s blood was starting to boil. This was all completely fucking unacceptable. He stood up and leaned over the desk as he hissed at Elias' face.
“You're a sick freak. You can't know what I'm doing at home. Are you spying on me?”
Elias didn’t move a muscle, completely unperturbed by Tim’s outburst.
“Oh, perhaps I do not exactly know. But you didn't deny any of what I just said, so… I assume my educated guess was not far off, hm?” Elias said with a smug little smile.
“... Fuck you.”
“Now, now, no need for that language. All I'm asking is that you keep this encounter between the two of us. And, I'd like to keep any information of my marital status private as well. Do we understand each other?” Elias gave him a stern and cold look, waiting for Tim’s reply.
“Yes,” Tim said through gritted teeth.
“Good.” Elias' face broke into a smile again. “I’m glad. And for your information, yes, I am gay. If that was not obvious. No need to send any female colleagues to try and seduce me to test if I'm bisexual. I assure you, I am not.”
“Oh. Um. Am I allowed to tell Sasha that?” At least that was something. It wasn’t exactly part of the bet, but perhaps Sasha would accept it as not a total loss for him.
Elias shrugged. “If you like. Not sure how you will prove it though.”
Tim stared at him. Fuck, he couldn’t even prove that. Not like he could show Sasha the love bite. He’d just have to hope she took his word for it.
“Well then, I think we're done here,” Elias said.
“Right.”
Tim grabbed the whiskey glass, downed it in one go, and slammed it on Elias desk before heading for the door.
Elias' voice stopped him just as he was about to leave, hand on the door handle.
”Oh, by the way, Tim?”
”What?” Tim half turned back to him.
”That jewellery you’re wearing, I’d like to know where you bought it,” Elias said.
Tim was confused. He wasn’t wearing any… oh. Right. Yes, he was. ”My nipple piercings?”
”That’s right,” Elias said, clicking down the ballpoint of a pen, readying it above a notebook.
”Um. I don’t remember. Some website, I probably have the order details somewhere.”
”Very good, please email me the link when you figure it out.”
”I…” Tim didn’t know what to say to that. Should he send it on the institute email? It wasn’t like he had another email for Elias. ”Yeah. Sure.”
”That will be all, then.”
”Right.” He shook his head discretely and left.
~~~
“There you are! What did he say? Please tell me you're not fired?”
Tim's walk of shame back down to the archives had been in some sort of haze. He couldn't quite make heads or tails of what just happened to him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the last thing Elias had asked for. Why did he want to know that? Did Elias have pierced nipples? Did his husband? Tim hated that he kind of wanted to find out what Elias looked like without a shirt on. Or without anything on. Damnit, he shouldn’t want that! Doing this once was plenty problematic already, and he didn’t even like the man. Not even a little. But damn, was there something about him…
When Sasha ambushed him as soon as he came in through the archive door, he was so deep in his head, it made him nearly jump out of his skin. He didn't even register her question at first.
“Um…”
“What? Are you!? God, I can't do this without you, you dummy! Or I can, but I don't want to. Christ, Tim!” Sasha made a gesture like she was melting from exasperation.
Things finally clicked in his head, what she had asked about. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, then pulled his hoodie tighter around his neck. The love bite wasn't visible, was it?
“No no, I'm not fired. I'm good. Relax,” Tim said. The last part was as much aimed at Sasha as at himself.
“Well, thank God. Don't you dare scare me like that again.” Sasha gave him a light, reproachful shove, and then her eyes narrowed, and she sniffed in the air. “What's that? You smell…”
Oh god. Oh, god no. Tim was starting to panic. Could she smell the sex on him? Perhaps that paper towel wash off had not been sufficient. He tried to step back to avoid her scrutiny, but she followed him, and leaned in to smell him closer. Tim was desperately trying to think of an explanation, but he was drawing blanks. He wished he could just sink through the earth and disappear. Maybe he would just need to quit this job and get new friends.
“Why do you smell like whiskey?” she said.
Tim let out a relieved breath. Oh, thank fuck.
“Oh, that. Elias thought I needed some ‘hair of the dog’. Apparently I looked like shit,” Tim said.
“Really? He gave you whiskey?” Sasha gave him an incredulous look. “During work hours?”
“Yup.”
“Huh. And?” She asked.
“Well, I drank the whiskey, and got a stern talking to about the dress codes and the inappropriateness of flirting with your boss during an office party.”
“That's it? You were in there for like an hour.” Sasha gave him an incredulous look.
“Yeah. Pretty much. He… wanted to make sure I got the message, I guess.” Tim shrugged, doing his best to seem nonchalant about it.
“Alright. But you're not in trouble then?”
“No. I, um… made amends.” The memory of trying to keep his balance on that sofa with one hand behind his back as Elias pounded into him flashed before his eyes, and Tim was grateful he was not one to visibly blush.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Sasha looked at him with narrowed eyes.
“It's not important. What IS important, is that he IS gay,” Tim said, trying to deflect the attention from himself.
“What? How do you know?”
“He told me,” Tim said.
“He told you.” Sasha gave him a quizzical look.
“Yes.”
“And how am I supposed to verify that?”
“Dunno, you can try asking him, but I wouldn't recommend it. He's not that keen on sharing.”
“Then why did he tell you?” She asked.
“To settle the discussion, and to not have me send you to unearth any bisexual tendencies. Apparently he knew about our bet,” Tim said. “Honestly, I think he might be some kind of pervert, watching us through cameras all the time or something.”
“Oh, come on, why would the big boss of the Magnus Institute spend his time listening in on silly office conversations?” Sasha said. ”Besides, there are no cameras in the archives. Remember when we had that burglary and lost a few laptops? The police asked for footage, but there was none.”
“Maybe there are hidden cameras?”
Sasha laughed. “Hidden cameras, just to spy on us, what, stapling? Having a gossip?”
“You’re laughing, but he knew things. Not just the bet, but-” Tim interrupted himself. All of that other stuff was highly incriminating, he couldn’t exactly tell Sasha that.
“But..?” She urged.
“Other things. It’s not important.”
Sasha gave him the side eye, but she didn’t call him out on it. “Alright. Well, good thing he didn’t fancy you then, since he’s such a pervert.”
“Yeah.” Tim let out a sigh of relief. Crisis averted. But, actually… “Hey, hang on, why do you think he doesn’t fancy me?”
“Because. He had you all to himself in his office for like an hour. Don’t you think he would have tried something if he did? You certainly made your intentions clear, so…”
“Hah!” Tim let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. No. Totally. He definitely didn’t try anything, so… bullet successfully dodged, I guess.”
“God, you’re being weird. Were you hoping for him to try something?” Sasha gave him a judgemental look.
“No- I mean- Um. Maybe?” he let out a deep sigh. “Sasha. I’m hungover and I had a stressful day. Would you please stop torturing me? And for the love of god, tell me you’re still getting me a greasy lunch.”
“I mean technically, there is even more proof to my side after this. Whether Elias is gay or not wasn't part of the bet,” she said.
“Sasha, pleeeease?” He gave her his best puppy dog eyes. God, this was unfair, he had very well earned those three months of lunches, and he couldn't even talk about it. Instead, he was left begging for scraps. Not that he was above that, not at all. Especially since he knew it worked on Sasha.
She relented and gave his hair a playful ruffle.
“Alright. Just because you look so extremely pitiful, I’ll pay for whatever greasy food you crave. And out of the goodness of my heart, I’ll finish the stapling as well. I am nothing if not a good samaritan. But you better bring that t-shirt on Monday.”
“Yeah, yeah, alright.” He supposed he’d just have to take that loss. At least he didn’t have to do the stapling. And at least that prick wouldn’t ruin his friendship with Sasha. He’d get rid of the scarf, and the folder on his phone too, those wank sessions were not happening again. Really, giving that priceless T-shirt to Sasha was probably more than fair, just not for the reasons she thought.
“Come on then, Saint Sasha,” he said, and grabbed his jacket. ”There’s a shawarma with extra fries and halloumi on the side out there, waiting for my mouth and your wallet.”