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It was a gloomy day in reaper London, though despite that, there was a lively sort of mischief all around; it happened to be the first of April, you see. The death rate had decreased slightly, as of late, and it seemed that more members of dispatch had time to waste, a blessing that lent itself well to the art of pranking. Most reapers only pulled little tricks on their friends to evoke laughter and a friendly smack on the shoulder, as what was likely intended by whomever created the infamous day, yet there were those who took it much more seriously.
Grell Sutcliff entered the office building that day with a bag of dastardly goodies, though before he’d even had the chance to enter his office, he heard a frustrated shout sound from the men’s restroom. With a furrowed brow, he walked past a few grinning reapers who seemed in a hurry to escape Ronald Knox’s rage. The redhead’s eyes widened when he saw the young blond reaper standing there, dripping from head to toe.
“Ronnie-dearest, whatever happened to you?” Grell asked in blatantly faux concern, more amused than anything else. “Did those ruffians I passed dump a bucket of water on you? You want me to get them back?” He stepped nearer to the boy, who was flushed in anger and gingerly prying his soaked dress shirt off.
“Nah, I know who bloody did this!” he hissed, tossing his shirt unceremoniously to the floor. “It was Eric!” He stormed out of the bathroom half-naked, leaving his soiled shirt behind. Grell watched with raised eyebrows and a sly grin, trailing after his trainee to witness what was sure to end up a most entertaining confrontation. He watched as passersby stared at Ronald’s indecent state, his wet trousers leaving streaks along the immaculately clean floors as he stormed along. At last, he’d made it to Eric and Alan’s office, which was snugly locked, just as was expected.
“Open up, y’ bastard!” Ronald yelled through the door, banging on it mercilessly. He heard the door click from its locked state, readying himself to throw a punch at Eric, only to catch himself hastily when Alan answered the door. When the meek brunette saw him, he knit his brow and shook his head.
“Eric, that’s terrible,” he muttered at his lover, who sat at his desk with a most evil smirk. “I think I have a spare shirt you could wear, Ronald. Come with me.” Oh, but Ronald had already marched past the slight man and straight up to the grinning reaper in the corner of the office.
“Thanks, but it’s gonna take more than a clean shirt to take care of this mess! I’m soaked in my own piss, thanks to you!” Grell’s grin broadened at this new development as he peeked through the doorway, and Alan’s jaw dropped open. Eric gave a half-assed attempt at stifling his laughter, but he failed miserable and soon had his head on his desk and was filling the room with a hearty chuckle.
“How did you manage that, dearie?” the redhead asked Eric in a giggle once he’d managed to contain himself a bit.
“Aww shit,” Eric sputtered, lifting a tiny wrench for the other men to see. “I fiddled with the urinals a touch, so that when you flush, it spits everything right back at ya!” He could barely finish his sentence before bursting into laughter again. Grell followed suit immediately, and Alan only continued to shake his head, unsure of what to say. “I was hopin’ you’d be my first victim, Ronnie!” Eric continued breathlessly, sliding the little wrench back into his desk just before the younger reaper lunged forward and grabbed the taller man by his tie.
“You owe me a new shirt, you bloody wanker!” Ronald growled with a sharp tug to his tie. He so very much wanted to strike his elder that it was frightening, but just as he was about to try, Grell rushed into the room with a fresh excitement written on his feminine features.
“Loves, I hate to interrupt your fun, but I’m afraid Eric is about to catch a much bigger fish in his trap if we don’t act fast!” The two quarreling men paused, and Eric rose and slipped out of Ronald’s grasp to see just who Grell was referring to. At first, the tall reaper’s face was twisted into another devious grin, thrilled that another poor sap was about to get doused in his own mess. Until he realized that the poor sap was his boss.
“Well fuck me,” he gasped, going pale as William T. Spears veered into the restroom. Ronald rushed up beside him just in time to see the tip of a familiar death scythe disappear into the loo, and his heart nearly stopped as he realized who it was. If it wasn’t for his secret crush on the man, he would have been more than content to watch this whole thing unfold. Eric would certainly receive overtime for such misconduct, if not a paycut, and Ronald would have paid money to see him get chewed out by Spears. However, his heart overran his gut and he knew that he had to go and stop him.
“Well aren’t you gonna go and help him?” he turned toward Eric in a panic. His face was right up to the other man, who looked surprised at the blond’s sudden concern.
“You kiddin’ me? What am I supposed to do? Walk into the loo and tell Spears while he’s doin’ his business to stop? No thanks! My best bet at this point is ta try and hide the fact that I did it.” Ronald swallowed hard as he snuck one last glance toward his mates before turning on his heel and speeding toward the restroom. Grell’s grin was nearly splitting his face, as he was clearly delighted with all of the early morning drama, Alan looked mortified, and Eric just looked shocked. “Why the lovesick fool,” he mumbled incredulously, and thankfully Grell hadn’t heard him. Eric and Alan had figured out by then Ronald’s dirty little secret, even if the boy hadn’t directly told them, and they weren’t sure just how the redheaded reaper would react if he were to discover that the young reaper was in love with his darling William. That was a can of worms better left unopened, the couple decided.
“You owe the poor boy, Eric!” Alan said with a glare, the typically gentle reaper raising his voice slightly. “If something bad happens, you know you’re entirely to blame.” The brunette glowered at his lover for a moment longer before storming back into their office; he couldn’t stand to watch any longer. Eric merely stood where he was, his hands in his pockets and his gold-green eyes fixed on the door to the restroom. He knew that what Alan said was true, and he felt a small seed of regret bloom, even if it had been a clever prank. Grell, not seeming phased at all by the suddenly somber mood of his companions, was sorely tempted to inch closer to the bathroom and listen in on the two reapers’ conversation, though if there was indeed a chance of Ronald getting punished, then he didn’t want to risk William developing the idea of him being associated with the boy. And so, he propped himself casually against the wall and pretended to be interested in his To-Die list, trying very hard to hear what he could.
Ronald dashed into the bathroom to confront his boss, panting, no shirt, his hair and trousers still soaking wet. He wasn’t even sure exactly what he would say to him. It would have been easy to throw Eric under the bus and explain that the same thing had happened to him, but no matter how much he would have liked to, the burly blond man was one of his closest friends and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d have to take a different approach.
The blond nearly slipped on the tile floor as he dashed inside, his gaze sweeping across the rather large room until he did indeed find William. Who was already standing at one of the plagued urinals. Ronald’s heart pounded in his chest as he boldly approached him, and it took William a moment to realize that he wasn’t simply using the urinal next to his. His brow furrowed when he saw the younger man’s soaked, shirtless state. Ronald spoke with an embarrassed but urgent tone to his voice. “Sir, you ought to know that—“
“Ronald Knox,” William huffed uncomfortably, turning his body away slightly, “whatever happened to you? Your current state of dress does not comply with company policy.” Of course it didn’t, that was obvious enough, but Ronald’s breath caught in his throat when he wanted to speak again. They stared quite awkwardly at one another for a few heartbeats before William compressed his lips in a grim line and began to glare at him. “This is neither the time nor is it the place for conversation, regardless, so I ask you kindly to leave me in privacy.” The blond knew that his window of opportunity was closing, but thankfully William had a strong penchant for coffee, so it was taking him quite a while to get if all out of his system. This could prove to be just enough time for Ronald to take action.
“I know, sir, but—“
“Where in the heavens is your shirt?”
Ronald cast his eyes behind them to find his sopping shirt still lying in a heap on the floor, though he chose to ignore William’s question as the man began to zip his trousers and fasten his belt. When he saw him reaching for the flush handle, he abruptly reached out and grabbed the taller man’s shoulder. William fixed him with a sharp scowl, then, stunned that anyone would be so foolishly bold. “What has gotten into you, Knox?” His voice emphasized his growing impatience, and Ronald’s face flushed a deep red as he additionally grabbed the hand that had been reaching for that damnable handle. “This blatant disregard for respect is enough to warrant a pay cut!” Ronald’s tongue was still tied, and at that point, before he could collects his wits properly, William shoved him swiftly away; he landed flat on his rear end. Right back into the puddle of his own urine near his shirt. It seemed to be the cherry on top as he watched William try to flush the urinal.
“S-sir! It’s rigged!” He’d collected himself enough to speak again, but it was too late. A great whoosh filled the room, and William looked confused when the contraption paused and clanked for a moment, only to blast toilet water and everything else along with it directly in his face, over his perfectly pressed suit, all the way down to his immaculately shined dress shoes. It took no longer than a second, though the moments of pure silence following the tragedy had to have been the longest of Ronald Knox’s life. He gazed helplessly at his supervisor, who stared blankly at the wall for a short while from beneath his now mussed dark hair. Slowly but surely, William let what just happened sink in, and after a few more heartbeats passed, he turned toward Ronald Knox with pure ire written all across his handsome features. That look said it all; he was convinced that this little blond hell-raiser had set the whole thing up, and now there would be no protection from his wrath. “Mr. Spears, sir,” Ronald tried, fumbling for words and bracing himself for the worst as the raven-haired man approached him, “it wasn’t me! I-I was trying to save yo—” Before he could finish, William had summoned his scythe and sent it so that it pinned Ronald to the nearest wall by his collar, and all with deadly accuracy.
“Ronald Knox,” William hissed as he walked forward, retracting his scythe bit by bit as he neared the trapped young reaper. “What in the name of the gods have you done!” Within another moment, his dripping face was mere inches from Ronald’s, and his piercing eyes were filled with such a rage that the smaller man could hardly stand to look into them.
“I-It wasn’t me, boss. Honest!” he sputtered, his heart nearly giving out. William ignored his pleading voice as he brought down the gavel.
“Within the next two weeks, you will need to have completed twenty hours of overtime. In addition, your wages will be reduced by eight percent for the next decade to pay for the damages you’ve caused to this restroom facility. Lastly, I expect you to have mopped up this mess by lunch hour, lest you wish to be dealt further punishment. Am I perfectly clear?” Ronald would have had to been a complete and utter idiot to try and argue with the fuming man, and so he slumped his shoulders and readied himself to accept his unjust consequences.
“Yes, boss,” he replied sullenly, staring at the floor. If looks could kill, he’d have been murdered brutally by then through William’s glower. Brusquely, the man withdrew his scythe from Ronald’s collar completely so that he stumbled a bit on his shaking legs.
“Very well, then,” William sighed, seeming somewhat surprised that the young reaper didn’t respond with a single retort. “Once you’ve cleaned yourself, I expect you in my office posthaste to retrieve the paperwork necessary to begin your overtime. I’ll give you exactly an hour.”
With that, the sopping wet supervisor turned on his heel and exited the restroom, leaving a trail of wetness behind him just as Ronald had only a short while earlier. The younger reaper was still leaning up against the wall, too stunned to say or do anything. If he knew one thing at that point, it was that he was going to bloody kill Eric.
Really, the only upside he could find to the whole situation was just how close William’s face had been to his own; he seemed especially sexy when he was upset. Those striking eyes narrowed, his lips pursed, and those dark eyebrows furrowed—it almost made up for the whole mess he was in. At least he’d been able to admire the way the man’s soaked trousers clung to his rear end as he stormed away. That alone was enough to give Ronald’s heart a little skip. A few reapers entered the room shortly after the explosive confrontation, looking and Ronald and the floor with questioning expressions.
“Don’t use the urinals, mates,” he warned nonchalantly, feeling at that point that he really had nothing to lose. “You’ll regret it.” And so, he trudged over to his dress shirt and scooped it off of the floor before leaving that accursed bathroom and heading back down the hall to the front door of the building.
He had an hour to head home and shower, after all.
It only took him forty-five minutes before he’d bathed, thoroughly, and slipped on a different suit. He reluctantly returned to the office with five minutes to spare, and when he arrived, the office was already all abuzz with gossip as to what had happened to William. The younger reapers spoke in mockery of the whole situation, with grins on their faces and mischievous glints to their eyes, and while the elder reapers spoke with one another regarding the same topic, they did so with a more somber attitude and respect.
Ronald ducked his head as he made his way through the sea of suits, not really wanting to draw attention to himself. He expected pats on the backs from the younger fellows, which he wouldn’t necessarily have minded, though it was the glares from his elders that he didn’t want to see. What a catastrophe, and for something that he didn’t even do!
At last, he stood before Spears’ office, knocking politely on the door so that he wouldn’t get chewed out even more. “Enter,” came William’s deep voice from the other side, and Ronald obediently did just that. William appeared to have cleaned himself up as well, wearing another immaculate suit and his dark hair combed neatly back into place. The blond reaper imagined that he’d taken a bit of time off to shower as well, and he hoped that he wasn’t quite as furious as he had been when he’d last seen him. “Sit.”
Ronald seated himself gingerly in the chair before William’s large desk, feeling immensely uncomfortable as he felt his supervisor’s cold eyes scanning over his body. “I am glad to see that you’ve chosen to don a shirt, Mr. Knox,” he said, very tempted to smirk but restraining himself.
Ronald looked up at him for but a moment, curious at the tone of his voice that could only be described as playful. Or mocking. The latter was probably more accurate. Did he find Ronald’s toil humorous? In spite himself, he flushed lightly at the raven-haired reaper’s comment and lowered his eyes further into his lap.
“Yes, sir,” he replied quietly, reaching up to brush his golden bangs from his eyes. “I’m really sorry, boss, I—”
“Hold your tongue,” William ordered sharply, amusement still lacing his tone in the most curious way. “I have some news that you may find auspicious, Ronald Knox.” At that, the younger man’s eyes shot up to meet his, a hopeful sort of glint in them. “In lieu of this wretched holiday, it seems I’ve inadvertently played a joke on you.” The hopefulness in Ronald’s eyes were replaced by a stronger sense of confusion than he felt before, and his brow knit.
“Sir?”
“I’ve been cursed with the holiday spirit, and so I decided to revoke your punishment, out of the generosity of my heart.” William nearly smirked again, placing a gloved hand to his mouth as if to cover it. Ronald looked absolutely incredulous as he spoke, his mouth dropping open. What the hell was going on? The peculiarity of William’s behavior and tone of voice was strange enough, but revocation of overtime was entirely unheard of. Ronald asked the first question that came to mind, even if he probably shouldn’t have.
“Mr. Spears, sir, are you…okay?” There was such a seriousness to the boy’s voice that William couldn’t no longer hold in the deep chuckle he’d been keeping to himself; the mere sound of it shocked Ronald for the umpteenth time that day. He’d never heard it before.
“Hardly, and honestly I’m still quite angry, though I’m sure you’ll be relieved to hear that my anger has been hereby redirected. In other words, Mr. Knox, Mr. Slingby came forth and admitted to his misdeeds. Therefore you are off the figurative hook, as it were.” Ronald could hardly believe his ears, though indeed a strong sense of relief washed over him, and his face split into a grand grin of his own as he leaned back into his seat and ran a hand through his hair.
“Gods,” he breathed with a soft laugh of his own. “You scared the shit—er, I mean you really scared me, boss.” William rose from his seat, letting the other reaper’s vulgarity slide for the time being, and proceeded to gesture toward his office’s door.
“I apologize for wrongly accusing you,” William said as he began to lead Ronald out, “and I do appreciate your attempt at saving me from that mess.” When they reached the door, William paused and turned so that his back was to the wooden surface, blocking the younger man from his exit. “In addition, I could not help but notice to where your gaze had the tendency to flicker as you spoke to me in the restroom.” Ronald cocked his head in bafflement until William’s eyes trailed downward on his body to rest on a very intimate area. His heart began beating so quickly that he was certain the taller reaper was able to hear it, and a great warmth rose to his cheeks.
“B-Boss?” he asked as William drew nearer, his stoic expression not giving anything away. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, whether he was about to receive two miracles in one day, or of he was about to be punished once again, but either way, he was so tempted to lean forward just a touch more so that he could crash their lips together roughly. However, there proved to be no need for him to take action because William did, grabbing the younger man by his tie and dragging him into a fiercely impassioned kiss.
Ronald’s eyes went wide as saucers as he felt his supervisor’s mouth move over his, and he grabbed his shoulders to steady himself. This couldn’t really be happening, could it? Nonetheless, he let himself indulge in what he hoped wasn’t just another of his dozens of fantasies and began to return the pressure with just as much fervor.
At last, William released Ronald, who was out of breath and panting against his cool lips. “I’m not so oblivious as to not notice the way you look at me, Knox,” he murmured, his rather seductive cologne filling Ronald’s nostrils as he tried to gather his wits. His tongue was tied, but he managed to speak anyway.
“It’s true, sir,” Ronald admitted, his voice quavering with lust as he clutched to his supervisor’s blazer. “I’ve been wanting after you for a long time now.” His head was spinning, still in absolute shock, and he hoped dearly that the man wasn’t simply teasing him with another April Fools' prank.
“You’ll be glad to know that this desire is mutual, then,” William reassured him with a smirk, before connecting their lips once again and trailing his gloved hands down the younger man’s slender waist. Death, the man was gorgeous, and Ronald couldn’t help but melt into the touch. “Meet me Friday at the coffee shop on Fischer Street after work, twenty hundred sharp.” Ronald could only nod his head, still finding himself to be in a dreamlike state of sorts. He was fairly certain that he’d agreed to go out to the pub with Eric and his other mates Friday evening, but a date with William T. Spears could take precedence over getting knackered any day of the week.
“Okay, sir,” he breathed, unable to pry his gaze from the raven-haired man’s emerald stare. “This isn’t just some awful prank, is it? You’re not just joking around with me, right?” There was such a pitiful hope in Ronald’s voice that it almost brought William to smirk at him once again, though he maintained his stoic mask perfectly.
“I am not one for joking, Mr. Knox. I was certain everyone knew that.” He pressed a feather-light kiss to the boy’s lips. “It seems I was mistaken.” With one last kiss, he released Ronald and casually strode back to his desk. “Now then, I’m sure you have collections coming up shortly, and I have a rather large file of overtime paperwork to prepare for Eric Slingby. Therefore, you’re dismissed, Knox—Ronald.”
The blond reaper gave a wide grin as he was called by his first name, and he saluted toward his supervisor before marching somewhat comically to the office door. It had been interesting, to say in the least, how such a miserable start to the day had ended up to be one of the best of Ronald’s life.