Chapter Text
Greg has been listening to Taylor Swift since he was about 17 and she had just started her career. He first heard her music by chance on the radio and even though some would argue it seemed a little out of character for him, he immediately liked it. So of course, after years he relates most events in his life to her music (as one does). And his very small, very chill, totally-not-insane crush on his boss isn't the exception.
Many songs make Greg think of Tom in a way you can only describe as a cheesy rom-com for gay corporate people.
Sometimes he'll hear a song, think of Tom and imagine what it would be like to just run up to his office, grab his face and kiss him. Just the idea of what could happen coupled with the right lyrics made him a daydreamer who often misses it when people (even Tom himself) are talking to him.
The newest addition to the soundtrack of his life fits his current situation perfectly, he thinks and to say it's taking over his brain would be an understatement.
He sits in his office and just plays it on repeat until someone interrupts him by trying to talk to him about work he's supposed to do.
One of these days the person who interrupted his boss/employee slowburn fantasies is Tom, and Greg is just in the right mood to be the main character in his own corporate rom-com.
'Hey, buddy' Tom says standing at the door 'How's it going?'
'Um, hi Tom' Greg replies as he looks up at Tom's wide grin and a smile appears on his face 'I'm great, man. How about you, Superman?'
Tom seems taken aback by the comment for about two seconds, but then immediately looks at Greg with a mix of confusion and amusement.
'Well, Gregory. I'm alright. I just wanted to let you know that I'm gonna need you to do some actual work today' Greg frowns lightly 'I mean, if that's okay with you' he adds in a mocking tone.
Greg smiles 'I guess, if I, like, have to. I'll do it' he said but it was clear he didn't want to. He looks at Tom with his eyes wide and a small pout.
Tom sighs but he doesn't 't really seem annoyed 'You know what, buddy? I'll find someone else to do it. Don't worry about it, man'
'Thanks, Tom. You're a real Superman, man. Always, like, saving the day' Greg beams and if Tom's heart wasn't trapped in his ribcage it would jumped out of him.
He feels short of breath every time Greg smiles at him, and now he's calling him Superman and pouting to put off doing any work. And the worst part is, it works.
It's not that Greg's new nickname for him bothers him. It's a kind of a pat to his ego and it makes him feel a weirdly nice presure in his chest.
It's just that for some reason, every time Greg says it, it feels loaded with something Tom can't quite figure out.
'Sure thing, buddy' Tom says as he leaves Greg's office with a dumb smile.
Greg smiles back and resumes the music in his headphones.
I watch Superman fly away.