1.

Gordon arrives at work and finds a cup of coffee on his desk. Like, one in a paper cup of an actual coffee shop's branding. A quick glance around gave him no indication as to who could have possibly left the offending drink there. It was only as he dumped his satchel under his desk and sat down on the creaky blue spinny chair that he caught sight of the scrawled marker on the side of the reinforced card.

Needed an excuse to pop in the shop and try the pumpkin spice latte, consider me the coffee fairy for my friends in accounting - Tony

The permanent slight frown his muscles had mastered over time relaxed slightly. One mystery solved. However, that still left the question of who else in his department the irritatingly slightly taller man from legal was friends with. A subtle glance of the surrounding desks brought up no conclusions. Everyone else either wasn't in yet or were drinking from their own generic mugs. No coffee shop cups in hand. Gordon didn't know what to make of it. Whipping out his phone, he brought up the contact number that had been keyed into his device the first day he'd met Tony.

The coffee fairy doesn't seem to understand what 'department' means apparently

A response was almost immediate.

I think the fairy said friends in accounting if we're being exact about language used

What happened to this fairy bragging about how likeable he was?

Have you met your coworkers? They're kind of extremely dull. They only know how to talk about Maths and the 5 billion pictures of their kids they have on their phones

I'd try and correct you on your statistics, but I think it's an accurate approximation. Should I take the Maths comment as an insult?

The three dots bounced up and down on Gordon's screen for a few moments, giving him a moment to log in to his computer. Glancing back down at his screen he saw a message waiting for him.

Of course not. I wouldn't be friends with someone I found dull

Even if it would benefit you in some way?

Oh Gordon, you overestimate just how much Economics plays a part in my life if you think I'm keeping you around for your accountancy skills. Stop overthinking it. Drink your coffee

And so he did. Leaning back fractionally, careful not to throw off the fragile centre of balance of the chair, Gordon took a deep gulp of the hot drink. Exactly how he liked it. And much better than the instant coffee in the kitchen. If this was what being friends with Tony got you, he didn't think he minded much.

2.

Tony's day had stretched on far too long for his liking. And it was only 2pm. Not that he'd have noticed, the overload of work because of the upcoming staff intake meant he hadn't been able to catch his lunch break. Oh how he yearned for a Pret A Manger tub of soup right now. Instead he was greeted by one of the department's secretaries placing a stack of paper on his desk.

"More contracts to look over." She told him with an apologetic look. He sent her a smile to ease her guilt.

His stomach rumbled (he hadn't eaten since the croissant he'd bought at Starbucks while he was getting him and Gordon their coffees (which had become a surprisingly regular thing by now)), but the intimidating tower stared him down until he gave in and reached for the one off the top. 80 pages of legal jargon and employment clauses waited for no man, he supposed, not even Anthony Blair.

30 pages in, one hand nestled in his hair, elbow on desk, the other holding a red pen and slashing furiously at amendments that needed making, his view of the page was blocked. By a steaming tub of chicken and butternut risotto soup, the dull red star of the Pret logo fogged up somewhat. Being placed next to it was a similarly hot coffee cup and he could smell the aroma of chai. After trying most caffeinated drinks on coffee shop menus, his flavour of the month had evolved into an obsession with chai lattes. Something about them was so warming and comforting. His eyes flickered up to glance at his saviour. 

Gordon was still in his coat, nose slightly red from the frosty weather.

"It's been heated up in the microwave since I didn't think it would last the journey hot, but I hope it lives up to your standards." Tony felt himself deflate, letting out the tension and frustration he had with his project to be extremely grateful for the man in front of him.

"It's perfect. Thank you." He uttered with all the honesty he could muster.

"Oh, and," Gordon reached into one of his deep coat pockets and pulled out a thin paper bag. "One of those pecan and caramel cookies for when you decide the day's been bad enough for you to not care how many calories is in it. I mean the chocolate one's better and has less calories, but each to their own I guess."

Tony wanted to cry. He wasn't sure when Gordon had become telepathic (or even more frightening, intuitive to his feelings), but his weeping brain and stomach wanted to thank him endlessly. Instead he opened his mouth to hear no words come out. The accountant didn't seem bothered by this.

"Careful, it looks like the contracts have stolen your vocabulary from you. Don't read too many more, you've gotta be a somewhat functioning human being tonight; Ali told me to remind you about the pub quiz and Peter said bring your A game or don't bother showing up. I reminded him that every other participant is over seventy, but he was steadfast like always. Anyways, eat, drink, research for the movies round. See you at 7." Gordon was a few paces away before Tony's brain caught up.

"Gordon," The man turned around. "Thank you."

"No problem," Tony found the rare smile he received just as warming as the latte. "What are friends for?"

3.

"Is that Tony's tie?" Peter's voice broke him from the sudoku he was attempting during their lunch break.

"What?" He asked, confused by the break in concentration. Gordon glanced down at the deep blue tie around his neck, slight threads of navy ran through it that weren't visible unless you were up close to it. "Oh. Yeah it is." He returned to his puzzle. That was, of course, until the other man yanked it away from him.

"Why are you wearing one of Tony's ties?" The tone was accusatory and suggestive. Gordon hated it.

"Because I spilled coffee on my tie this morning and I had an important meeting coming up so he offered to swap ties with me." 

"Interesting." 

"What? Are you saying you wouldn't, let me rephrase that," He tried again, seeing Peter's judging gaze. "Are you saying the normal person wouldn't loan their friend an unstained tie when they were heading into a very serious meeting?"

"Maybe they would, I wouldn't know." Peter paused and Gordon hoped this was the end of the conversation. "I just don't think many would loan their friend a £150 tie." He felt his heart stop.

"A what?"

"That tie, it costs £150, it's Burberry. Me and Tony were ogling them in the new catalogue during our break a month ago, he said he was going to treat himself with his next paycheque. I suppose I just thought when I eventually saw it, it'd be around his neck and not the one whose ties probably see hot drinks more than they see the washing machine." Gordon wasn't fully switched on. He hadn't been since the price tag had been revealed to his brain. Now all he could do was eye the tie like it had grown teeth and was itching to bite.

"Still," Peter mused, oblivious to Gordon's meltdown, "Maybe Tony is just a good friend." 

"Yeah." The accountant muttered, unaware of the I was obviously being sarcastic, stop being an utter moron look he was receiving. All he could think about was getting this tie off as soon as possible and returning it to the care of someone who looked after their things a lot better than he did.

4.

Somewhere along the way Tuesday nights had become movie night between him and Gordon. If you tracked it back you'd find it started with Tony being appalled that his friend had never seen a Marvel movie, the back and forth banter resulting in the accountant being dragged back to Tony's place after work to watch the Avengers. The week after, Gordon told Tony it was only fair that he got to force him through a movie of his own choosing, and the rest was history.

In the present day, Gordon was slumped into Tony's sofa, his head dropping ever so slightly every few seconds due to how long the day had been. Unfortunately, Mamma Mia 2 (Tony's choice if that wasn't obvious) was not keeping him awake. Their shoulders brushed against each other as they sat in their usual movie watching places. Sure, the sofa was a two seater that was a bit on the small side and there was a perfectly good armchair off to the side of the coffee table in front of them, but it wasn't a good vantage point for the tv, they'd decided. So, sofa it was. 

Tony had noticed Gordon's exhaustion  about fifteen minutes into the movie. Shifts had been longer for all of them, but the workload was especially heavy on finance. He'd seen just how much more coffee Gordon was consuming nowadays, and how the darkening bags under his eyes told of the little sleep he was getting. It concerned him slightly. Every so often the man would nod off for a second before jolting back into the scene. It wasn't nice to watch. Which is probably why Tony found himself shuffling a bit closer to him and saying.

"You can just go to sleep, you know, I won't be offended, and I think ABBA will survive." He teased. The man looked hesitant. "C'mon, you can nap until the movie ends, probably more worth it in the long run." Tony tapped his shoulder only to receive a raised eyebrow in response. "What? Friends offer a shoulder to cry on, don't they? What's so different about a shoulder to sleep on?" He could see Gordon wrestle with the idea in his mind but the drooping eyes and heavy limbs won out.

Due to their slight height difference, Gordon's head rested perfectly on Tony's shoulder, no strained muscles to be found. Plus, the jumper the lawyer had swapped into when he'd arrived home was impossibly soft in a way that probably cost an absurd amount of money. But right now, Gordon could only be thankful for the man's spending habits as it proved a great pillow. A wave of washing detergent, orange blossom shampoo (which stood pride of place in Tony's bathroom) and a hint of the cologne he put on for work came over him, carrying him into the depths of slumber.

Half an hour later, Gordon was still asleep and Tony hadn't touched the cup of tea he'd made himself earlier in fear of waking him. He could survive without the drink for now. The weight felt nice on his shoulder. Glancing at the slight curls that were getting towards haircut length a warmth blossomed in his chest. This felt good. He wondered why they didn't do this more often. 

5.

Gordon's mum was visiting from Scotland. He'd taken a few days off of work to show her around various tourist spots. She'd thankfully been able to stay in Gordon's spare room, saving herself from whatever astronomical rate the London Travelodges were offering. However, while her presence had been greatly appreciated, he'd forgotten about her inquisitive nature.

"So, still no chance of grandkids anytime soon?" She'd asked as they were having a cuppa one evening. Gordon sighed.

"No, mum." The answer was the same every time she asked him. He found himself tapping out a text before he realised.

If mum keeps up the interrogation I'm going to go insane!

He didn't receive one of Tony's famously rapid replies. Must be busy, Gordon thought. Although, doing what? It was normally their movie night tonight which had been postponed due to the visit.

Gordon pondered over this for the next twenty minutes as his mother watched an episode of Come Dine With Me. There was a comfortable silence, the questions only being interspersed in ad breaks so as not to miss the tenuous connections developing across the dinner table on screen. All of this came to an end when a knock on the door rang out through the room.

"Were you expecting someone James?" His mother still liked to call him by his given name, but she was the only one that could get away with it.

"No." The ads started to roll on the tv and the woman stood.

"I'll answer it, don't you worry." He stayed seated, wondering whether it would be a sales person. That was until a familiar voice rang out.

"Oh, how silly of me I'd forgotten Gordon said you were coming this week Mrs Brown!" Gordon's eyes widened. Tony.

"Don't be silly dear, come in, come in, the more the merrier. James doesn't let me meet his friends very often, is that a dvd you've got?"

"Ah, on Tuesdays we usually watch a movie together, I'd brought a romcom to make him suffer through, since it's my turn to pick this week." Tony's charming grin was effortless and he knew his mum was enraptured by it.

"A man after my own heart, well go on and put it in, oh I have so many questions, you'll have to tell me all about yourself and what it's like working with my boy." The pair had settled into the living room seating comfortably. "Why don't you put the kettle on James?" He could do that, he thought.

Going through the routine of grabbing mugs, putting tea bags in, sugars in two of three cups, and boiling the kettle was soothing, instinctual. His mind was much more crazy. Tony was here. Tony was here with a movie, being questioned by his mother. He couldn't possibly have forgotten about the visit. He'd helped him plan where to take her, and had assured him he'd be sitting through two movies next time to make up for the missed week. So why was he here? Then Gordon remembered the text. Was this his response? Had Tony really come up with the excuse of forgetfulness just so he could take the baton from Gordon and endure his mother's investigation for him? He felt a lump in his throat. He didn't think anyone else would do that for him. Especially without being asked.

"Hey." Gordon turned to see the man running through his thoughts leaning against the kitchen door frame. "I hope this was okay. If I'm intruding, or got it wrong just tell me and I can make up some incident back at the flat I need to go and see to."

He just observed Tony for a few more seconds. Then, as no words seemed to be coming out of his mouth, he crossed the kitchen and hugged the other man. Tony responded instantly, his arms wrapping around the shorter man's shoulders.

"Thank you." Gordon mumbled into Tony's neck. He wondered if he was imagining the slight shiver it caused. 

"Always." He responded softly. The kettle dinged, prompting Gordon to pull away and finish making the drinks while the other watched. He took his and his mother's cups and Tony grabbed his own. 

"Oh, but don't think you've avoided discussing the inevitable, James ." Tony told him with a grin as they exited the kitchen. Gordon rolled his eyes, but decided he didn't much mind it. Maybe two people could call him that.

"You've got a good friend in that Tony lad." His mother told him as they cleaned up, the man in question having left a few minutes ago. 

"I know." 

+1

The daily coffee deliveries hadn't tipped him off. The shared lunches hadn't tipped him off. Hell, the scheduled outings and evenings they spent together hadn't tipped him off either. It had been Peter that had set the whole thing into motion.

"Can you settle an argument me and Ali are having?" He'd asked in the staff room.

"Probably not, but go ahead." 

"Have you and Tony been dating for 7 months or 5? You never really announced it and Alastair places the start date around last October when Tony started buying you coffee, but I said it was probably Christmas when you had your first movie date night. And twenty pounds hangs in the balance here, so think carefully where your loyalties lie before you answer." 

Gordon's brain had gone static. Crackling black and white lines and whitenoise filled the space between his ears.

"Gordon?" 

"I'm not dating Tony." He finally got out. Peter laughed.

"Look I know you're oblivious, but I'm pretty sure even you couldn't miss being in a relationship for what better be five months." 

Gordon spent a few minutes scanning through every moment he'd spent in Tony's presence, the texts they sent back and forth from the moment they woke to the minute they fell asleep, how he'd met his mother .

"Oh my god. Am I dating Tony?" Gordon's face only held pure bafflement. Peter's laughter was unlike anything he'd heard before.

"This is too good," He was pretty sure the man was wiping away a tear from his amusement filled eyes. "I have to find Alastair right now, this is even better than the twenty quid." 

In the empty room, Gordon was left to his thoughts. He couldn't not have noticed being in a relationship. He and Tony were just friends...right? Then his mind ticked over how many times he'd happily fallen asleep at Tony's, sometimes just to have an excuse to lean on his shoulder. 

How his toothbrush holder held two toothbrushes instead of the usual lone one and half of the drawers in his spare room had some of Tony's clothes in for nights he'd end up sleeping round. There was that damn orange shampoo in his bathroom, the fancy kind of coffee he liked sitting next to his own store brand. The regularity and ease into which they'd slipped into more acts of physical affection since Gordon hugged him that night in his kitchen. Now he expected Tony's bony chin to press into his shoulder, overlooking whatever was in the pan while he cooked, the weight of the head on his lap on movie nights and the soft hair he'd absentmindedly card his fingers through.

Oh my god. He was dating Tony. Did Tony know? The room felt claustrophobic. Glancing at the clock, he thanked the lord it was late enough so he could take an early lunch and no one would wonder why he was fleeing the building. 

There was a certain place he visited when things got a bit too much. It was a bench that overlooked London Bridge, a few metres from a row of street food stalls. It meant he was away from the full buzz of activity but he could still blend into the background if he wanted. Plus it always smelled nice and sometimes the street food stalls would recognise him and slip him a free churro or bag of halloumi fries when he looked particularly perturbed. Glancing out at the River Thames, it was soothing to focus on the shifting murky water being cut through by the few cruises that were out today. Took himself away from his dangerous thoughts. 

A presence took up space next to him, staying silent, just sitting there waiting for Gordon to make the first move. Of course. He'd found this spot because of Tony. On a long lunch a few months back when he'd been dragged to try the 'best crepes in the world'. Because, at some point, his life had become unknowingly intertwined with Tony's and now every corner of it that he’d deemed his own could be re-evaluated to find another person inside of it. And it had been such an easy transition he hadn't even noticed. What did it say about him that he hadn't noticed? Peter was right. He was oblivious. He was hopeless. 

The hand a few centimetres from his own had given up waiting for Gordon, intertwining their fingers and all of a sudden it felt as if the stormy clouds within his mind were starting to clear. The blue skies felt much easier to cope with and he felt the tension racking his body melt away. Turning to look at the man next to him, he noticed the worried expression on Tony's face. It was incredibly subtle, no one else would notice. That felt rather magical. It felt like proof. He wasn't oblivious about the things that mattered, like Tony's mind dissolving into self-doubt. Gordon didn't think he wanted to keep being hopeless either. Leaning over, he used his free hand to tilt Tony's face down and press their mouths together, leaving an unsaid declaration to linger between their lips. That could come later. They had all the time in the world.

We say we're friends, we play pretend, you're more to me