Work Text:
Exactly one year ago today, you met Harrier Du Bois. You wonder if he remembers. When you walk in the door to the office, he is already lounging at his desk. You feel incredibly stupid as the gift in your pocket presses against your chest. What were you thinking? A year of working together isn't cause for commemoration.
You try to avoid catching his eye, but he’s looking at you expectantly. He points to a wrapped package on your desk. Inside is a model racing carriage, one that you might have gazed at through a store window as a child. When he grins at you, your doubts melt away. You pass over your gifts to him. One: a small glass bottle of beard oil infused with your favorite pine scent. Two: a dark green tie that shines iridescent in sunlight and neon lights alike. You know you’ve achieved something when he can't find the words to articulate himself. Maybe you’ve gone too far? No, you haven’t taken this far enough yet.
He says he doesn’t know a thing about grooming facial hair, so you pull him into the men’s room. A drop or two of oil in your hands and you have a perfectly reasonable excuse to touch him (after asking him first, of course). You comb your fingertips through his mutton chops, massaging deep so that you can feel every nick and ingrown hair against your nails. His eyelids droop closed. Beard oil can be used on hair, too – the words escape from your mouth before you can think twice. He bends forward, you reach up, running your hands through his locks. He makes a sound, you think – and, you think he leans in. Oh. You take a step back and clear your throat; he can figure out the rest. But he doesn't leave with you. He’s tugging at his old tie to get your attention. Yes, he says, he needs help putting on the new tie you gave him. You loop the sleek fabric around his neck and tighten, smoothing down his shirt as you (reluctantly) draw your hands away from him and behind your back. You admire your handiwork.
Exactly one year ago today, you met Harrier Du Bois, a man you never thought you’d come up with excuses to touch. You don't quite know what you want from him. He’s good to you, he leans into you when you touch him. Maybe that's enough for now.