Work Text:
There was a knock at the door. Normally, Dean Smith left his door open unless he was on a call, but today he was dealing with his own problems and not focused on Sandover’s. A knock gave him time to hide that he was looking through personnel files and pull up a sales report. “Come in!”
If he hadn’t just been looking through personnel files, he wouldn’t have recognized the young man in the yellow polo shirt and khakis that identified him as part of IT. The kid looked nervous, too, and for a moment a flash of fear went through Dean. Was the kid here to yell at him for personal use of company network and equipment? No sense letting that show, though. He waited until the kid had closed the door and come to stand by his desk. “Hello, Ian. Please, have a seat. What can I do for you?”
Ian sat down, perching on the edge of the chair instead of getting comfortable. “Mr. Smith, I’ll be completely honest. This isn’t about Sandover in general. This is about you, Mr. Adler, and Sam Wesson. While the event I’m here to talk to you about happened, technically, off company time, the motivation did, so I don’t feel bad about using company time to bring it up with you…” The kid smirked, and Dean’s lack of reaction got him to lean forward. “Besides, what are they gonna do, fire me before Christmas instead of after like I already know they’re planning to do?”
“Firing me would cause a lot more headache, so I think we’re good there,” Dean agreed. “That doesn’t answer the question, though.” Sam Wesson was another IT worker, one much better than Ian. One who was scheduled to be offered a transfer and promotion when Dean took charge of the Detroit branch. One who Dean kept coming back to as his dream for the mysterious person he was pulling the world’s worst Cinderella story on. The prince in that story at least had a shoe to work with. All Dean had to go on was that it was a guy, taller than him, who really knew how to use his lips under mistletoe. He couldn’t just line up every male employee over six feet tall and demand they kiss him so he could find the one who stole his heart.
“The Christmas party,” Ian said, interrupting his thoughts. “I know you blow off the whole elevator thing from last month, but you can’t deny that the two of you had a huge moment under the mistletoe. I swear, du… sir… there were literal sparks flying.”
Dean’s dream was coming true, and he could stop invading privacy to do it? If he hadn’t read the files and been thoroughly aware of just how bad an employee this kid was, he just might have offered him a job in Detroit. “That’s very useful information, Ian. But how does Mr. Adler figure into this?”
“See, that’s why I’m here instead of pushing Sam to come talk to you himself,” Ian said. He ducked his head, took a shaky breath, and then forced himself to look up and straight into Dean’s eyes. “Mr. Adler caught the elevator with Sam and me, and without ever mentioning specifics, talked about how terrible workplace romances were and how much he hated seeing good employees lose their wages and benefits because they were thinking with the wrong head. It was obviously a warning to Sam to not try to pursue things with you, because Sam’s been upfront about how badly he needs this job and is terrified of losing it.”
“I see.” Maybe not in IT, but surely, he had something he could offer this kid…? Because it sounded like even if he’d approached Sam in the hopes that it was him, Sam might well have lied and said it wasn’t. “Do you know what you’re going to do when you leave Sandover?”
“Not to worry, Mr. Smith, if I can’t find anything better before I start having trouble making rent, my old man can always put me to work for him. Not my favorite work, unloading trucks, but I’m not gonna end up on the street or anything.”
“Thank you. And don’t worry about Sam. Adler won’t touch him.” Dean smiled widely, and Ian took the hint to leave.
Seeing Dean Smith by his very old Buick LeSabre is how too many of his dreams had started for Sam to acknowledge what a nightmare it was now, thanks to Vice President Stick Up The Adler. “Admiring my car?”
“How in the world do you keep this thing running?” Dean asked. “It looks like it’s one bad pothole away from ending up in my dad’s scrap yard.”
“My dad was a mechanic, and just about the only way we could ever spend time together without it ending up in a fight was working on cars. I bought this when I was sixteen, and he and I figured out the maintenance needs and the best places to get parts.” Sam ran a hand over the top of the car. “Even now that he and I don’t talk at all, it’s still good memories, you know? Plus, there’s enough legroom for me to be comfortable.”
“Nice.” Sam looked up from the car, to see Dean… getting down on one knee? “Listen, I don’t have a ring or anything, but marry me?”
“What.” Dean Smith would not put his suited knee on the ground for a joke, but it was equally unthinkable that he was serious. “What the actual fuck brought this on?”
“I may have blown it off at the time, but the elevator incident got under my skin more than I’d thought, and then at the Christmas party… well… that kiss was magical enough to get through the blackout drunk. As my husband, even if some dipshit tries to fire you for a workplace romance or you quit to find a job that isn’t gonna suck your soul out the way IT is doing to you, you’re still covered by Sandover’s excellent insurance policy, and you know there’s no way I would let my husband struggle to pay his bills or keep himself fed.”
So… Dean had heard about Adler’s not-so-veiled threats, and this was his solution. He had to admit, the offer was incredibly tempting, but there were a few small problems and one huge one staring him in the face. “I try not to pay attention to workplace gossip, but everyone’s talking about how much interest Adler has taken in you. I know you probably want to believe that you got the VP promotion on your own merits, but you can’t deny that Adler’s interest in you didn’t hurt anything and may have helped. Isn’t that what they say, it’s not what you know, it’s who you know, when it comes to that kind of thing? If he decides to make his problem with me a problem with you…”
Dean just shrugged. “Well, for one thing, it won’t matter much after the New Year. For another, that’s already started. I got called into a meeting with Adler and Naomi Carter in HR this afternoon because he was trying to sabotage my transfer to Detroit. One pointed warning… what?”
“Don’t you think an upcoming move is something you ought to mention to the guy you’re proposing marriage to?!”
“Wait, what?” Dean furrowed his brow, head tilting as he studied Sam. “They hadn’t talked to you about that? They asked for a list of people I wanted to take with me to the new branch, and you were the second name I put on it, after my secretary Nancy. I turned that list in before I left for Thanksgiving! I know they’ve talked to Nancy and a couple of the others, so I just assumed they’d talked to you.”
Sam shook his head. “You turned it in to Adler, right? He’s had a problem with me the whole time I’ve worked for Sandover, so he may have just ‘overlooked’ me.” He narrowed his eyes. “On the other hand, you’d think he’d be glad to get rid of me.”
“Well, shit. Let me interrupt my proposal to make a couple notes.” Dean pulled out his Blackberry and typed for a minute. “There. First thing in the morning, I’ll be checking with everyone else I put on the list to see if anyone else hasn’t heard about the move, and if it’s just you, going back to Carter. So, yeah, there’s another reason to marry me, you won’t have to find a place on short notice in Detroit.”
Sam scoffed, but he was smiling, too. This whole thing was just so ridiculous. “Are you even interested in me when you’re not drunk? I mean, the guys in IT have been teasing me about my hopeless crush on the rising star VP who nobody even knew for sure was into dudes until the party since before the elevator thing, but you…”
“All the best decisions in my life, I’ve made drunk,” Dean said. “Applying to Stanford even though I didn’t think I could get in. Applying for the job here. Now, you.”
Sam ducked his head, letting his hair fall in his face to hide the smile. “Listen. There are easier ways to get to kiss me again than marrying me. You do know we could just start with a normal date, right?”
“We could, but that doesn’t solve the Adler problems or you being trapped in IT instead of doing something that uses that brain of yours.” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Look, I may have been stalking personnel files to try to figure out who I was looking for before I got told. I saw that until you dropped out of college you were on track for magna cum laude. And, speaking of that, if you’d rather go back and finish your degree instead of going straight to another job, I make more than enough money to support you and help pay if you can’t get your scholarships back.”
“I have no idea how much of my stuff would transfer…” Sam protested. “I may well end up having to do a whole degree over again.” The idea was so tempting, though. Go back to school, finish his degree, be able to get a job doing what he really cared about instead of reminding people to turn off their computers.
“So what? If you could accomplish what you did while having to work, just think what you could do if you didn’t have to worry about that. I want a happy husband, not a fat bank account.”
“You’re making this almost too good to be true,” Sam whispered. He cleared his throat and in a firmer voice continued, “But sure. Think Sandover will cause problems if I put today’s date on my two weeks’ notice instead of tomorrow’s?”
Dean shrugged. “What are they gonna do, fire you right before Christmas? If you put today’s date, that gives them just enough time to get you your last paycheck before next year, so they won’t have to run you a tax form for next year. Nobody’s petty enough to give you grief over one day… except maybe Adler, but since you’re quitting to marry me, that could add to the problems he’s having with the appearance of sabotaging my career because of my drunkenly outing myself as gay.”
“Good point.” Sam wiped his hands on his khakis and then reached out to take Dean’s to help him to his feet. “Good time to claim the kiss I’ve been dreaming of since the party?”
“Absolutely.” Dean stretched up, touching his lips to Sam’s. It was just as magical as Sam remembered from the party, and when Dean’s hand slid into his hair, Sam couldn’t help the moan that came out. Dean pulled back. “So… wanna come back to my place?”
On the one hand, jumping straight into sex was faster than Sam liked to move… but on the other hand, if you can’t sleep with your fiancé right away, when can you have sex on the first date? “I would love that.”