Chapter Text
It's so unprofessional. Aiden avoids eye contact when Nick passes by his desk to drop off a coffee, keeps his eyes on his computer screen so that he doesn't drift over to look at Nick's arms.
"Here you go, boss," Nick says, when he drifts past.
"Thanks, Nick."
"You look tired," he says. "You should go home soon."
"I'm fine," Aiden says, which is not exactly true- he is pretty tired, but he's planning on letting the coffee wake him up so he can drive home a little more refreshed. "I'll leave soon, Nick, thanks."
"Okay, whatever you say." Nick continues out of the office, and leaves Aiden alone with his computer and his coffee.
He takes a sip. It's really good, God damn it. It would be easier to ignore his crush if the guy didn't always bring him really good coffee.
And, y'know, look really good coming in after rock climbing. And have really nice arms, and dress like a skater in the workplace, ripped jeans and all. Fucking Christ.
Nick's at his desk when he sees Aiden leave. He looks cheerful and awake enough that Nick's not worried, waving goodbye to him when he leaves and not giving it much else thought.
About an hour later, Aiden calls him.
Nick picks up, cradling his phone in between his shoulder and his head and fumbling for a pen on his desk to write down whatever he's gonna say. It happens sometimes - Aiden just remembers something he meant to say earlier and calls Nick to have him write it down so he won't forget.
Except. It doesn't come. Nick sits in silence, and there's some wind on the other side.
"Aiden?" he tries, after a moment.
"Nick?" Aiden sounds confused, distressed, even. "I need help, I think."
"What's going on, dude?"
"I, uh. Crashed my car."
Nick immediately stands up, gathering his shit off his desk with one hand and using the other hand to hold his phone more securely. "Oh my God. Are you okay? Where are you? Did you call 911?"
Aiden falls silent for a moment, and when he replies he sounds distant and disoriented. "I don't know. No, I didn't call 911. I'm, uh..." Aiden sniffles. "I'll drop you a pin."
"Okay-" Nick pulls his phone away from his face, so he can see it when Aiden sends him his location. "Okay, I'll be there soon. Don't hang up."
Aiden's head feels wet. And his car is in the ditch, dashboard crumpled. He’s not sure how well that’ll fix.
At least he’s the only person who got hurt. He thinks. He doesn’t entirely remember the crash, but he thinks he just drifted off at the wheel.
So maybe he was a little more exhausted than he realized.
He can’t help but smile when he sees Nick’s car pull up along the side of the road. “There you are!”
“Yeah,” he hears Nick say, and he sees him get out of his car. “I’m here.”
It actually startles Aiden to hear him in person and through the phone at the same time. He jumps and pulls his phone away from his ear.
“Nick!”
Nick power-walks up to him, when he sees the side of his head that was covered by his phone. “Oh my God, Aiden. You’re bleeding.”
“I am?” Aiden turns to look at Nick, who uses his hand to turn his head back away so he can look at the injury again.
“Yeah, you’re kinda bleeding a lot. I’m gonna call 911.”
“Oh. Okay,” Aiden says, and then he feels bad, for some reason. “Sorry for dragging you out here this late.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Nick says, unlocking his phone to call emergency services. “I would’ve come if you weren’t hurt and just needed a ride, it’s fine.”
“Oh,” Aiden says. He still feels bad, but he smiles at that, that’s nice.
The conversation with the emergency responder is short, and Aiden and Nick aren’t stuck sitting around waiting for an ambulance to show up for long. Nick has Aiden sit down on the curb pretty quickly- something about, like, blood flow, Aiden thinks.
An ambulance pulls up quickly, and Aiden is starting to drift off again by the time he gets moved up into the back. The only thing he can think is that he doesn’t want to get dragged away from Nick, even though Nick is reassuring him that he’s gonna be following him to the hospital in his car-
“That's so far away.”
“I’m gonna be one car away at most, Aiden.”
“I know!”
And then Aiden passes out.
Shock is one hell of a drug, as they say. Nick watches it wear off on Aiden, sees the energy rush fade into the exhaustion he must have been feeling even before he crashed his car into a power line pole.
It looks bad. It’s not a massive head injury in terms of open wound, but head wounds bleed so much, and he might have hit his head pretty hard, and Nick doesn’t know a lot about medicine but he’s pretty sure concussions are bad.
As they sit on the curb, he notes this to Aiden, who shrugs when he does. “I know concussions aren’t good.”
Nick throws his hand up, frustrated. “Then why didn’t you call 911?”
“I always call you when I have a problem,” Aiden says, and then fumbles for his phone out of his pocket. “Look, your contact name has a heart in it and everything.”
“Oh my God,” Nick laughs, because how else is he meant to react?
Aiden is so sad and grabby when they load him into the ambulance. Nick would think it’s funny if he weren’t hurt.
He follows the ambulance as closely as he can on the way to the hospital, frustrated when they don’t let him in to keep an eye on Aiden. He sits in the waiting room anxiously, leg jackhammering away on the linoleum floor while he texts people who need to know Aiden might not be in tomorrow. Eventually, they come out to let Nick know that he can come back tomorrow to check on Aiden, but for now he’s just getting some rest and he’ll be fine, although he might need some help to get home.
Nick goes home and gets some good rest. Like, he wants to stick around and worry about him,maybe just grab some sleep in his car, but he’s just seen the results of exhaustion, just seen his boss/friend in a bad state - that honestly could have been a lot worse - because of sleep deprivation, so he’s not gonna toy around with it. So he goes home and sleeps pretty well.
Aiden wakes up feeling like dirt and shit, is displeased by the hospital breakfast offerings, and immediately throws up after he eats. So that’s not great.
Nick comes by at around two in the afternoon to pick him up. Aiden is still tired, feeling like ass, but the nurse says he’s pretty much good to go, and the concussion will heal on its own as long as he gets plenty of rest, and Nick grins and spins his keys around his finger when Aiden asks how he’s gonna get home.
“Hey,” he says, as they walk to the parking lot. “Can you try to take it slow on the way back? Maybe take side roads?”
“Yeah, sure. Why?”
Aiden sighs. “I’m pretty sure I’ll throw up if we go too fast.”
“God,” Nick says, face scrunching up. “If you throw up in my car I’ll have to kill you. Or myself.”
“I have a concussion,” Aiden says, sadly.
“And whose fault is that, Aiden?”
Aiden frowns and follows behind Nick. “I’ve already got a ticket I need to pay, you don’t need to make fun of me.”
Nick turns and looks up at him, smiling, and Aiden doesn’t actually mind that much. “I know. I will anyways.”
Nick does take the slow way back home, and they manage to avoid a vomit incident. Aiden gets out of the car and heads upstairs, and Nick follows closely behind to make sure he gets to his apartment without incident.
When Aiden gets to his door and fumbles for his keys, he turns to Nick. “Thanks for driving me home, dude, it’s really appreciated.”
“Of course,” Nick replies, leaning against the wall. “I’m not leaving, though, you’re absolutely stuck with me.”
“Huh?” Aiden asks, unlocking his door. “Oh, like. What, you’re gonna stick around to help?”
“Yeah,” Nick says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, because to him it is.
“Oh. That’s not,” Aiden laughs, quietly. “That’s not necessary, you don’t have to do that.”
Nick blinks and considers. “I mean. Yeah, if you don’t want me around, that’s fine, I’ll go.” He means that, but. He does want to stay and help.
“I didn’t say that,” Aiden replies, keeping his head pointed away from Nick as he opens the door and gestures for him to come in.
Aiden is admittedly a little nervous about Nick staying with him to help out while he recovers, but he can’t think of anybody he’d want around him more, and anyways he’s managed to go this long without blowing his cover and revealing his position as mildly creepy and unprofessional boss.
So Aiden drops down on his couch and turns on the TV, flicks through a few channels before humming and turning his attention away from it and to his phone to go through emails.
Nick busies himself with tidying Aiden’s apartment up a little bit, which is a little embarrassing, but. Aiden keeps reminding himself that it’s not as embarrassing as the other shit, so he’s good with it, he’s fine with it.
At one point, while Aiden struggles to write up a response to a really important email, Nick walks behind him, peers over his shoulder, and as he walks past ruffles Aiden’s hair and says “Don’t work too hard, boss.”
“Okay,” Aiden says, and definitely doesn’t scream.
Nick puts his headphones on and blasts music so he can’t hear Aiden throwing up, pays attention to the emails he’s been forwarded from Aiden, most of them ones he pretty much has a default answer to. There are a few he’s gonna have to ask Aiden about.
There’s something else he should probably also ask Aiden about, but he’s not really sure he knows how to ask, “Hey, about my name in your contacts?”
He wasn’t thinking about it until now, ‘cause at the time he was mostly just stressed about whether or not Aiden was seriously injured, but now he’s had a bit of time to cool off, and. What the fuck is up with that?
He flicks through his contacts quickly, thinking to himself if there are any people in there, work friends/coworkers who he’d give a nickname with a heart, and, like. No!
Well, okay, except for maybe Aiden, but that’s different. And definitely not, because Aiden’s his boss. His boss whose apartment he’s currently at, answering emails and tidying up for, who’s currently in the bathroom throwing up ugh augh stop thinking about it.
Nick keeps his music loud and continues firing off emails. That’s all a problem for when Aiden’s done dying in the bathroom.
Aiden stumbles out of the shower and scurries off to his bedroom in a towel to change into clean clothes, comes back out of the bedroom to see Nick relaxed in a chair, writing emails on his phone with his headphones on. Aiden considers tapping on his shoulder to startle him, but changes his mind when he remembers he has a concussion already and if he gets hit again who knows what’ll happen.
So he shuffles to the kitchen, hears it when Nick takes his headphones off because of the momentary blast of loud music.
“Hey,” Nick says, as he follows Aiden into the kitchen. “Got some stuff I need to ask you about, emails you sent me I need to know some stuff to answer.”
“Yeah,” Aiden says, roughly. Ow, his fucking throat. “Shoot.”
“Okay, so-”
Nick rambles off a few questions that Aiden has the answers for, a few that he doesn’t that he advises Nick email somebody else about, and a few that Nick should actually have the answer to already, although Aiden does appreciate being asked, since they’re to do with scheduling, which is at the moment a little fucked, given the head injury.
Aiden shoots off easy answers while he digs through the fridge. This is also pretty unprofessional, but the reminder that there’s more unprofessional stuff runs through his head again, and he keeps going, pulling out an old box of fast food.
Nick had another question, but he breaks off when he sees that. “How old is that?”
Aiden looks at the top of the box, looks at the fading date. “Uh, I dunno. Something like a week, maybe?”
Nick looks at it. “Dude, this says you got it three weeks ago.”
“Oh,” Aiden says. “Huh.” He leans over and digs through his silverware.
“Oh my God, do not eat that,” Nick says, reaching forward and taking the box out of Aiden’s hand. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.”
“I’m already sick,” Aiden says, ‘cause he is.
Nick looks at him like he’s a fucking idiot. “Come on, let me order something new.”
Aiden is kinda too tired to argue, so he follows Nick to the living room and peers over his shoulder to watch him open up DoorDash.
“What do you want?” Nick asks, turning to the side to look at Aiden.
“Um,” Aiden says. “Food,” he answers. God, he’s tired.
Nick hums. “Too bad, I was gonna order toilet paper.”
“Can you do that on DoorDash?” Aiden asks. He knows that Nick isn’t being serious, but he’s curious.
“I dunno,” Nick says. “Look. How does pizza sound?”
“Greasy,” Aiden says. His stomach lurches.
“Asian?”
“Uh, maybe,” he replies. “I know I’m not helping much right now.”
“You’re good,” Nick says. “I’ve dealt with you on worse days.”
God, that is true. Aiden’s had days where he cannot muster up any coherent thought, and Nick’s been by his side to translate his meaningless rambles into actionable plans. That’s something Aiden would so miss if and when Nick moves on to another job. He’s really not sure how easily he could develop that kind of rapport with another assistant.
Aiden mumbles something about being hungry and drops his head back on the couch. Nick rolls his eyes and orders noodles.
Nick swears to God he was gonna bring up the contact thing earlier, but he did kinda freak out when he realized Aiden was about to eat three-week old leftovers. He knows Aiden isn’t the kind of guy who pays the best attention to personal health - case in point, exhaustion-caused car accident - but he had hoped he wasn’t at home eating expired-ass food.
Apparently he is, though. God.
So when Aiden mumbles something about how he was fine with eating the leftovers, Nick has to be honest.
“You’re not eating month-old food while I’m here,” he starts. “It’s my job to keep you functioning, essentially, so. I’m putting an official ban on month-old food.”
“It wasn’t a month old,” Aiden says. “I’m already gonna throw up again for sure, it doesn’t matter what I eat.”
“That doesn’t mean start putting fucking- poison in your body, Aiden.” Nick holds an egg roll out to him. “You’re nearly done, man.”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah,” Aiden says, taking the egg roll. “Dude, I for sure am gonna throw up again. You’re gonna have to really play some loud music to cover that up.”
“Well,” Nick says. “Kinda knew that going in.”
He did already know that nausea and vomiting are pretty standard symptoms of concussion - he used to skate, so. Yeah. The vomiting always ended pretty fast for him, but Aiden seems to be different.
“Man, I’m sorry,” Aiden says. “I know you have a, like, thing.”
“A phobia?” Nick says.
“... Yeah.”
“Yeah, it’s. Whatever.” Nick hasn’t suddenly just… gotten over it, but he’s putting up with it as well as he can, ‘cause Aiden does seem to want him here.
Fucking. Speaking of.
“Hey, by the way, there was something I wanted to ask.”
Aiden straightens up, clearly expecting a business question, and shakes himself awake a bit. “Go ahead.”
“It’s about my contact name in your phone,” Nick says, and barely keeps himself from cackling when Aiden immediately blinks and shakes his head, face turning red, and grabs for his phone to make sure he still has it.
“What? Huh?”
“You showed it to me when I came to call 911 for you, dude,” Nick says, watching Aiden immediately look away from him to try to hide whatever expression he’s making.
Alright, Nick isn’t an idiot. That’s a fairly big tell. But he doesn’t exactly wanna make assumptions and freak Aiden out, so he leaves a pause for Aiden to respond.
Aiden sighs and drops his head into his hands. “Can I say I don’t wanna talk about it? Can I plead the fifth?”
“You can try, but you got, like, a week before you’re fully recovered, and I’m gonna be here for a lot of that, so.” Nick sips his drink, slightly obnoxiously.
“Oh my God. I’m your boss,” Aiden says, miserably.
“So true,” Nick says. “You’re fuckin’ weird.”
“Okay,” Aiden says, a little offended. Good, ‘cause Aiden is better at talking when he’s indignant rather than embarrassed. “It’s not, like, that weird. You’re older than me.”
Nick grins and turns to him. “Yeah? You thinkin’ about our age gap?”
“Oh my God, I’m gonna kill you,” Aiden says. “I cannot believe you’re making fun of me when I have a head injury. What if you made fun of me and then I never got better?”
“I’d stick around to help you,” Nick says. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Aiden is really pretty when he’s blushing. Nick had accepted a while back that probably nothing was gonna come of that tiny little crush on his boss, and he was fine with that, which was mostly because he thinks it’s pretty funny to have a crush on your boss - but your boss also being interested in you and not doing anything about it because he’s your boss is funnier, so.
“Yeah, you’re here,” Aiden says, quietly, looking at Nick.
Ah. Yeah.
“Don’t worry, there’s more bullying to come.”
Aiden actually doesn’t throw up again. The food restored his energy, his mana, his spirit and all that shit, and he manages to power through a handful more important emails and a couple more episodes of How It’s Made before he crashes again.
“Nick, I’m tired,” he says.
“Then go to sleep.”
“Ugh,” Aiden says, and gets off the couch, before sitting back down. “You can take the bed if you want.”
“What?” You’re sick, you get the bed,” Nick says, easily. Aiden rolls his eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. Go to bed.”
“I feel bad for having you over and giving you the couch. The couch sucks.” Aiden presses his fingers into the springs.
“Well, yeah,” Nick says. “But like I said, you’re the one with the head injury, so you get to sleep in your bed.” Aiden opens his mouth to argue, but Nick keeps talking. “If you keep arguing I’m gonna start to think you just want me in your bed.”
Aiden stammers and stands up to walk away before he fully dies from embarrassment.
“Night, Aiden!” Nick sing-songs after him.
Fuck this guy. Fuck him.