Work Text:
I
Yusuf is convinced that the resources group on the fourth floor are scheming ways to do as little work as possible.
It seems any time a new client comes on board or someone downstairs goes on vacation it’s up to someone on his team on the seventh floor to shoulder the extra work.
Lykon, with his Zen approach to life, offers a deeply sympathetic sigh across their mini cubical wall (why have actual privacy at your workstation when illusions of it will suffice). His proactive method of operation is to document in detail all examples of unfair treatment between the two departments. When the time is right they’ll reach out to their union rep to make sure they have a solid case which will then ultimately be presented via the union and/or HR to management behind a strongly unified seventh floor front demanding the situation be rectified immediately.
Booker looks more stressed than usual at the idea of doing more non-work work in an attempt to counterattack the exhaustive load that keeps piling high.
Yusuf daydreams about walking out and never coming back.
II
“Good morning, Joe. This is Nic—Nick di Genova—(stop Nile, I’m on the)—sorry. I was told that you would be covering for me while I was away next month. We need to set up a time for you to familiarize with my portfolio. Please call me at extenstion 7579. Thank you and have a good day. (Nile! What in the world—)”
The voicemail ends with abrupt laughter that cuts out.
What. In. The. Fuck.
III
“What this is, is bullshit. David doesn’t even tell me himself? I find out from a random voicemail?”
“I’m adding this to our list.”
“How many are we at?”
“Fourteen.”
“Shit. Do they actually do any work down there? Because we seem to be taking on all their clients.”
“Book—”
“Seriously, Andy. I’ve got my own projects plus I’m covering for two people downstairs. What are the rest of them doing?”
“And yet not one of them has ever had to cover for us. Why are they allowed to say no but we have to suck it up?”
“I know, Joe. I’ve tried talking with David but it’s always the same line about, ‘looking into it’ and ‘being a team player’. It’s like talking to a broken record while bashing my head against a wall.”
“Can we go directly to HR?”
“Maybe we should tread carefully.”
“Lykon—”
“Hear me out. I’m just saying that we have to be prepared in case management pushes back. Our case needs to be solid or they can make things very difficult for us. And they will.”
“So let’s be smart.”
“Exactly.”
“Remember, the fourth floor isn’t necessarily our enemy.”
“No, management is.”
“With that in mind, let’s proceed with caution.”
“You never know, Joe. Maybe Nick will be a decent guy. Quynh’s down there now—”
“She started with us and was forced downstairs due to restructuring. She’s still one of us.”
“As I was saying, boys, Nick might not be so bad. Don’t assume he’s the enemy.”
“From your lips…”
“Maybe this will be the beginning of good things—if we play our cards right.”
“Inshallah.”
IV
He’s two people at work.
Joe is for phone calls and direct messenger. He still has a second work email under the name Joseph Jones that he never uses yet the company hasn’t gotten around to sending to the graveyard of dead email addresses (some leftover reminder of early day HR catastrophes). Joe is a blank name upon which anything can be projected on and to which nothing sticks.
Joe is professional and aloof, focused on getting the work done with as little mess as possible.
Yusuf is for emails and his team (though they tend to call him Joe as a default). That’s when more of his outside work personality peeks through. His emails are still professional but they also include amusing throwaway lines and anecdotes as well as supportive accolades when someone has pulled off an interdepartmental magic trick.
He’s the one who will throw in an on point gif at the end of a long and convoluted chain in a group email to capture what they’re all feeling. Often it breaks the tension pressing down on everyone and introduces some necessary laughter during which they all start throwing down gifs to get in on the fun.
He’s had more than one person tell him that his gif game is their favourite part of any email.
Nick “meets” Joe.
Given the nature of their workplace they are able to do all the necessary training and client handover without ever meeting face-to-face before Nick is traversing off to Italy for two (you’ve got to be kidding me) weeks. For the particular client group he’ll be covering for Nick a group proxy account is in use, meaning the clients can continue to email as they regularly do and it’s up to Yusuf to remember to check it and make sure everything is handled; when Nick is back he can go through the inbox himself to play catch up. As far as Yusuf can make out, Nick has a nice enough voice he wouldn’t mind listening to endlessly if it weren’t connected to the utter double standard level of crap this whole backfill situation is simply reinforcing.
Yusuf does try to play sleuth and check out his adversarial other before he’s gone but he manages to miss him both times. He’s barely able to do any investigating (beyond the meticulous workspace, the random framed photo of a small apartment terrace with potted plants – are those fresh herbs?—neatly lined up, and two library books askew at the far end of the desk which he’s trying to read the spines of…) when a co-worker (who he later finds out is named Nile) pops up and asks him if he wants to leave a message while she casts a discerning eye up and down this body.
It’s not suggestive. More like she’s taking stock of him.
He tells her to tell Nick that Joe stopped by. Beyond that there’s no message to leave.
V
The two weeks go by as expected.
Which is to say Yusuf barely keeps his head above water with all the last minute emergencies that keep springing up with Nick’s clients on top of the already busy portfolio he already has.
To be fair the time sensitive urgencies are not Nick’s fault. But it is some Murphy’s Law shenanigans.
He hopes (truly and sarcastically) Nick is having a good time in Italy otherwise this is just not worth it.
David dares to stop by on the second to last Thursday to check in with him.
Yusuf doesn’t mince words.
David tries to push back.
Lykon adds a note to the thickening file.
VI
“Your guy is enjoying Italy,” Lykon says above the din of the food court crowd.
Yusuf and Booker look at him expectedly, a burger and forkful of Korean bbq frozen mid-pause. Lykon chuckles and zips through his phone before passing it across the table. Yusuf sets down his fork and takes the phone while Booker presses close to his right shoulder.
“That’s Nick?” Booker’s tone is a bit too appreciative on Yusuf’s behalf.
The man is objectively and subjectively good looking. He’s sitting outdoors in a hoodie pulled up over his head, a sweet smile and piercing eyes aimed at the camera. There’s something very welcoming about him.
“Oh no, Joe. I refuse to lose you to the fourth floor. You must resist.”
“Shut up,” Yusuf laughs at Booker. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m simply acknowledging the man is attractive.” He mentally notes the IG account and tag before passing the phone back to Lykon. “How’d you get this?”
“I met his friend Nile at the ninth floor kitchenette. We bonded over the jackass who keeps reheating fish in the microwave—there needs to be a company directive about that sort of thing. Anyway, we were talking about food and traveling and she told me how jealous she was of a co-worker who just went to visit his parents in Italy for a couple of weeks.”
Lykon taps the side of his head to indicate brain power. “I put it together and we kept talking until she showed me his travel pics.”
“His account is private.” Booker is already squinting at his own phone.
“But hers isn’t.” Lykon grins. “She showed me a bunch of his photos, which are amazing by the way. She reposted one of the pics he tagged her in and voila.” With a magician’s hand flourish, he shoots Yusuf a sly look. “You’re welcome.”
Yusuf rolls his eyes. So what if later on when he’s home he finds Nile’s insta account and bookmarks the photo for himself. He thinks the name Nick doesn’t much suit the guy. Nicolò – yes. Nico – yes. Nicky – sure, in a casually fun way. Nick is too boring, frat boy-corporate, bland, square.
Why he’s thinking so much about this—
“It doesn’t mean anything,” he announces to absolutely no one in his empty flat.
VII
Nicky—Nico—Nicolò’s return comes with little fanfare. He sends a brief (though appreciated) ‘Thank you’ on messenger and apologizes for the messiness that arose in his wake.
Yusuf says it all worked out in the end and he hopes the trip went well.
Nicky says it did.
That’s the extent of their exchange. They weren’t friends before and they’re not suddenly friends now. Life slips back into its usual march and just like that they’re back to their separate bubbles.
Months pass. Projects come and go. Stress levels and professional enjoyments ebb and flow for everyone.
It’s the daily grind that Yusuf eventually cites as his excuse for not realizing he and Nicky have continued working together in some way all that time.
VIII
It begins in the middle of an email chain that includes at least fifteen people, most of whom never actually contribute anything, rather preferring to remain in the “need to know” category.
In response to a gif Yusuf has sent a few people have replied with their own animations and each one has put him in a better mood.
He’s abruptly thrown for a loop when an email pops up from Nicolò di Genova lamenting his sad technological inability to post gifs that don’t always end up freezing. The email is lighthearted and sweetly humbling in its self-deprecating awareness that he is unworthy of Yusuf’s level of gif greatness.
For the first time Yusuf realizes Nicky has been on this chain since the beginning, which goes back a month. An idea pops into his head and, using the search function, he pulls up a healthy handful of emails that either include Nicky or that the guy has replied to en masse at some point.
Yusuf wonders how he never noticed before. They’ve been part of three different projects over the last few months, just handling different aspects. He begins an archival dive.
It turns out when Nicky does engage he always replies all (which would be a big no-no if his emails didn’t actually address something that was beneficial to all – so he gets a pass rather than a virtual bad manner slap on the hand) and he’s usually providing updates regarding his group’s current status. He throws out the occasional laughing emoji or effusive praise when someone sorts out a problem that’s been plaguing them for a week.
And at least twice he has had Yusuf’s back (and others) when a supervisor has tried to drag him (or any other perceived underling) for something that was outside of his control. Not only did Nicky come to his defense, he did so with receipts that put the onus on the higher ups in management for screwing up.
Yusuf remembers defending himself and a few others but he hadn’t put two-and-two together. As he reflects upon and considers the bite size reveal that Nicky has given of himself (and a bookmarked image comes to mind)—
Oh boy.
IX
Team appreciation pub nights are really only attended for two reasons:
1. Supervisors pick up Round One. Maybe Round Two if they can be cajoled (they never can).
2. Everyone gets to talk shit about work.
This time around – for team building purposes – groups from the fourth and seventh floor are mixed together. As much as Yusuf wanted to groan at the invite it’s proven to be a fun night so far.
Along with Booker and Lykon (Andy is off shit talking David to his face while Quynh silently dares him to interrupt) they’ve ended up standing around a small round high table with Nile and Nicky. It turns out Nile has a wicked sense of humour and some harsh insight into office politics on the fourth floor that has Booker looking suitably impressed (maybe even a bit personally interested) and Yusuf reconsidering his outright dismissal of that team.
Nicky – Nicolò he wants to say but maybe he should tap down on that urge for now – to Yusuf’s left (with them all still facing each other) is quieter, definitely more observant, occasionally offering up a supportive comment to Nile’s narrative or a sharp barb (the type of thing Quynh would call a “biting kiss” – say it sweet but deadly).
Yusuf likes watching him (though he tries not to be rude or obtrusive) and gets a little thrill whenever Nicky’s eyes (some unholy mix of green and blue) flit his way. Which they do – often. He can see his hair now which is shaggier than he could make out from the picture he first saw and there’s enough hint of scruff on his face to get Yusuf’s senses tingling. But what’s really ringing his bell are the tiny hoop earrings in both ears. Just thinking about getting his mouth on those, teasing them between his teeth and tongue, Nicolò pulled close and already blissed out next to him on the bed squirming under his slowly drawn out ministrations—No. Stop. Focus.
Yet for all the natural ease between the expanded group he can’t help but feel Nicky is deliberately not interested in him. As in, he might be but he keeps putting up a yield signal when things look like to be getting intriguing. Yes, he’s polite and unexpectedly engaging but anytime a conversation starts to veer off to just the two of them, Nicky is quick to bring the rest of the gang back in.
Yusuf knows how to read a room and, while disappointed, respects the choice. So he stays in his lane. He can live off a distantly held crush built on platonic flirtations and good jokes; for anything else he just needs to look elsewhere. He’s never bought into the “wear someone down” way of thinking that so many rom coms he grew up with insisted upon. He’s a firm believer that the want should be mutual, not manipulated.
Near the two hour mark Yusuf is making his way back from the bar to their little group (and happily nursing a fresh ginger ale). Overtop the loud music and steady hum of chatter he hears someone yell, “Yusuf! Tell Book I’m cleaning him out this weekend. France is toast!”
He looks over to see Copley hanging out with a couple of the finance people, waving towards him while a broad and cocky, yet affectionate, smile takes over his face. Yusuf grins back and flips a proud middle finger while continuing toward his friends.
Back at the table (with Andy and Quynh finally locked in) the mood is light but there’s also a sudden pop of energy to both Nile and Nicky who are straining to look over the crowd of heads.
“The ever elusive Yusuf,” Nile says mostly to Nicky who crinkles his face while a faint pink blushes his skin.
A jolt of surprise and expectation goes through Yusuf and he smiles at them waiting for…something. When no one says anything more he awkwardly offers up a bright, “Hi!”
They both glance his way indifferently and a tiny warm smile tugs at Nicky’s lips but then he’s looking beyond him.
What?
“We’ve been wondering about the mysterious Yusuf for awhile now,” Nile offers as a vague explanation. “With only his emails…” she nods toward Nicky as if the rest either goes without saying or is simply not for her to say.
“Mysterious?” Quynh smirks at Yusuf. “Do you think so?”
He puckers up and gives her a kiss-off face.
“Does Joe have a secret life we don’t know about?” Andy jokes.
Nile distractedly looks around and shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know, but Yusuf—”
“Joe?” Booker says with no follow up other than pointing a crooked finger his way.
“No, Yusuf,” Nile clarifies a bit louder so she’s not misheard due to the crowd noise.
Booker pauses and looks at his drink as if it might be stronger than he thought. “Joe…right?” he repeats to himself like he’s suddenly the one who has to be convinced.
Unfortunately timing wise, Yusuf’s brain refuses to fire on all cylinders, his smile now a quizzical frown as he notices even Nicky is starting to look uncertain about what’s transpiring.
“What exactly are we talking about?” Andy’s question lands like a silence bomb momentarily engulfing everyone.
It’s Lykon who saves them all by exercising the only two braincells apparently still functioning in the group. “Joe.” He’s looking at Nicky and Nile. “Yusuf is Joe.” He points across the table with deliberation. “Joe’s his nickname.”
Of course.
They had all assumed Nicky and Nile knew he – Yusuf/Joe – was the same person on the phone as in the emails. When he was using the proxy account to deal with Nick’s clients he always signed off as “Joe”, more out of annoyance at the situation. Now he tries to remember how he introduced himself this evening when Nick and Nile first arrived and made their way to Lykon. It’s not like they couldn’t be referring to another Yusuf but it’s not that common a name at their company and the odds are pretty good given the overlap in their work he’s the one they mean.
If Yusuf thinks he’s bowled over by the sudden realization the look of shared shock and surprise on their faces tells him he’s not the only one. Booker laughs into his beer while Lykon is shaking his head. Quynh appears to be cataloguing the story to share at a future dinner party and Andy is rolling her eyes at the whole lot of them while muttering, “Does no one do proper introductions anymore?”.
Yusuf feels pinned under everyone’s gazes, particularly that of Nicky who seems to finally be taking all of him in for the first time. Properly.
“Holy Clark Kent and Superman.” Nile is wide eyed and pulling at Nicky’s shirt until he looks at her. She bites her lower lip. “He’s both,” her tone has a hint of wonder in it. “You are sunk.”
They share a look that is clearly the silent continuation of some conversation the rest of them aren’t privy to. What Yusuf can ascertain is that it involves him. They both turn his way again.
“You’re Yusuf?” Nicky asks cautiously.
Yusuf could drag this out and turn into a bigger joke than it needs to be. But the truth is it’s a really easy misunderstanding as much his own doing as anyone else and he refuses to betray Nile’s apparent care for her friend or Nicky’s honest earnestness especially while they’re outnumbered by his friends, both of them watching him closely.
Instead he puts down his drink, clasps his right hand over his heart and offers them both a soft smile. “I’m Yusuf al-Kaysani. Some people call me Joe. It’s nice to properly meet you.”
X
Standing with Nicky in front of the pub to get some much needed fresh air, he’s relieved to see the man is no longer wearing the unfair embarrassment of earlier. Things have settled into something nice, something he’s feeling urged to explore more of if the opportunity allows it.
He follows the outline of Nicky’s profile, nearly fluorescent a bright line from the overhead streetlamp and thinks it’s as good a time as any to ask.
“What did Nile mean when she said you were sunk?”
Nicky huffs a chagrined laugh and shoves his hands in his pockets, closing his eyes for a few seconds. Then he lays a considering look on Yusuf. “That you turned out to be exactly who I wanted you to be.”
Yusuf pulls up, pleasantly thrown by the answer.
Nicky faces him head on. “She told me about the very handsome man who came by my desk.”
Yusuf’s face feels flush.
“Joe, always to the point. Doesn’t sound like he laughs much. Isn’t a fan of our department.”
Yusuf cringes. “Is that how I came across?”
“Are you surprised?”
“…No. It was by design.”
Nicky murmurs assent. “But I was curious and while I was away she found some pictures of you and sent it to me.”
“What? What pictures? From where?”
Nicky smiles as he pulls out his phone and starts going through it until he finds what he’s looking for. He holds it up in such a way that Yusuf has to peer down almost over his shoulder. “I have no idea. There’s one with Lykon and Andy from the same night; you’re all a bit dressed up. But the one of just you…I thought ‘too bad such a handsome man has no personality.’”
Yusuf throws his head back and laughs so loud people turn their way. Nicky’s face lights up and he slides his phone away.
“And your – Yusuf’s – emails are just….” He clutches his chest in a slightly dramatic fashion putting some space between them. “I wouldn’t stop talking about them to Nile. Drove her crazy. You always made sure everyone was on the same page. Always ready to offer support. Always making sure no one lost their minds. You’re a very charming man when you want to be.”
“Yeah?” Yusuf counters by venturing one tiny step in his direction.
“You made me laugh many times. It helped make the difficult days better.”
“You’re no slouch. You gave it to Michael and Karen when they were power tripping over everyone.”
“I don’t like fights where the playing field isn’t even. And I don’t like people who refuse to take responsibility for their own mistakes.”
“I know. You stuck your neck out for people you don’t know. It says a lot about you.”
“So…” Nicky inches closer and peers into his eyes. “Maybe the whole fourth floor isn’t terrible?”
“No.” Yusuf’s reply is quiet. “It has its virtues.”
He pauses and looks to the sky then settles his stare once again on Nicky. “I wish I’d realized sooner…We took the very long way around.”
Nicky quirks an eyebrow.
Yusuf gives him a crooked smile. “The two of us –what could have been sorted out with one face-to-face conversation but instead we took the path of most resistance.”
He garners a chuckle and bites his lower lip while considering the realization that he trusts Nicky to hear the frustrations his team has been dealing with. So, with a deep breath, he shares what the last year has been like and the toll it’s taken on everyone. Nicky listens with a furrowed brow and no interruptions.
“I’m sorry, Joe,” he says afterwards. “Our intention was never to have your team take the brunt of our work. We had been having trouble with a co-worker for years. He constantly took advantage of all of us and peoples mental health was at an all time low. We banded together and pushed back to force management to sort out a solution that didn’t come at the cost of us.”
Yusuf recognizes the sincerity in his voice and can’t begrudge them for fighting for their team’s betterment. He’s trying to do the same thing now but without throwing any innocents under the bus. He appreciates Nicky’s apology and explanation but it doesn’t change much for the current state of affairs on the seventh floor. Except maybe now they have allies rather than enemies.
Nicky heeds his silence. “Maybe I can offer some tips on how to deal with management?”
Yusuf shrugs. “Any bit helps. Or, better yet, the next time you go to Italy I’ll just come along. Let someone else cover for us?”
Nicky’s eyes search his for something, then his mouth ticks up at the corners as if he’s found it. “I think that idea would work.”
For a solid beat the rest of the world drops away and it’s just the two of them beneath the halo of the streetlamp.
“No. Not happening.”
They jump and look to find Booker fiddling with an unlit cigarette, eyeing them. “I’m not covering for either of you. Next time Nicky goes to Italy we’re all going with him, like a caravan. Let this place burn to the ground.”
He lights his cigarette and takes a long drag. Yusuf and Nicky turn back to each other laughing. Two smiles. One winking Yusuf. One blushing Nicky.
“So.” Yusuf, with his arms folded in front, leans his head closer and drifts his gaze down to a creased section of Nicky’s shirt. “It was my words that wooed you? How very Cyrano of me.”
“Mmmm. Yusuf’s words I kept reading. Joe’s face I kept seeing.”
Yusuf unwinds his arms and gently fixes the shirt. As if on instinct Nicky reaches up to touch Yusuf’s wrist in the act.
Yusuf’s eyes and smile are a matching shade of happy when he returns the gaze. “And you were sunk.”
XI
A Friday has never felt so long.
There is no way the damn office clock is working. The hands are most definitely not moving.
An email pops up in his inbox. Opening it is the most thrilling thing Yusuf has done in the last two hours.
It’s a gif.
It’s not moving.
He tries to stifle a laugh and reaches for his ringing phone without sparing a glance at the extension.
“Joe speaking.”
“Santa Maria, madre di Dio!”
Yusuf’s laughter bursts forth. “Oh Nicolò, I think you might just have to accept you are never going to get this.”
“I refuse to give up. Just one more lesson.”
“It’s already been months. I mean, I guess I can try to squeeze in some more time with you.”
He hears a deep sigh and shuffling from the other end of the line.
“One on one?” Nicolò’s tone has changed.
Immediately, Yusuf adjusts accordingly. “Absolutely private.” He puts his back to Lykon who is sticking out a teasing tongue and Booker’s smirk, attempting some bid at privacy.
“Tonight?”
“Every night.”
There is silence and then—
“Yusuf,” Nicolò groans or moans.
Whatever it is it reverberates through Yusuf’s entire body. He lowers his voice and knows this phone call needs to end quickly, otherwise. “Say my name like that tonight. Not now.”
“Too distracting?”
“Good distraction. Bad timing.”
After they say their goodbyes Yusuf turns to find Booker making heart eyes at him.
“Look at you building bridges rather than burning them.”
“Get fucked.”
“I believe you’ve already got that on the agenda tonight with your fourth floor amour.”
Yusuf rubs both hands over his face, slouches in his chair, and rests his arms behind his head. He makes a cute scrunchie face. “Why am I friends with you again?”
“Who else is going to listen to you wax poetic about how you found love where once there was only hate?”
“It was never hate.”
“It was definitely dislike,” Lykon chimes in with a grin.
Yusuf rolls his eyes and matches their smiles. “At the beginning, yes. But not for awhile. And most definitely not now.”