Work Text:
It was an average Thursday. Nothing special in particular. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing at all.
Jock was having a perfectly normal day, since near-deaths by his coworker’s reckless driving has become the norm throughout the years. Office was slow after their secretary called in sick – they still have no idea how birds can use phones – and Mr. Boss was, well, he was ready to cash in on his annual vacation leave.
Which was likely the reason he approached Jock to ask if he could cover the closing shift for tonight. All things considered, the events of this afternoon that Jock planned in his head went a little something like this: Take bus home, order takeout, eat, maybe do some laundry, sleep.
Yeah, no, he had absolutely nowhere to be. He could afford a little overtime, it’s not like there was anyone waiting for him at his one bedroom apartment where he was barely making ends meet. So yes, he accepted the offer. At least it was paid.
Actually, Mr. Boss never confirmed if it was paid overtime or not. Oh well. No take-backsies, as the saying goes.
Their daily mission was bearable, a rare occurrence for tax collectors such as themselves. It wasn’t too difficult to pry some spare change from the lady downtown selling her suspiciously large plants at a street-stand. Jock swore those things were watching his every move, regardless if Sanders believed he was losing it. The drive back was less eventful than the mission, both of them barely saying a word the whole trip.
It wasn’t unusual. He knew Sanders wasn’t the chatty type, and they’ve worked together long enough for the silences they share to be somewhat comfortable by default. Neither of them had anything remotely interesting going on in their lives to serve as ammunition for a conversation.
All that was left to get done for the rest of the day was the paperwork that followed every job they completed, but Sanders covered it most of the time. This time though, maybe there was something in the air that particular day, but something compelled Jock to offer to actually attempt his share of the paperwork. So generous of him, right? It would give him something to do for the rest of the evening while he waited to lock up the office.
And then the sun inched lower and lower over the horizon, and he was alone. Just him and the paperwork. Which he surprisingly completed quicker than he expected. Obviously he was more than capable of completing his own paperwork – he did graduate from tax school afterall – he just hated it. And his coworker didn’t. Somehow. But still, who was going to decline the opportunity for someone else to do your paperwork for you?
Closing time arrived as the office darkened, where the only light that remained was the yellow glow emitting from the ceiling panels. Finally, he could go home, get into bed, wake up the next morning and do this all over again. Or so he thought.
What confused him the most as he walked out the tax building’s front doors was the sudden splash of freezing water pouring down his face. What confused him next was the fact that he was now suddenly back in the office, back at his desk, hunched over his now sopping wet paperwork. Ah. He’d fallen asleep.
Great. And of course his own brain would trick him into believing he was already heading home for the night. As if his current predicament couldn’t get any more disorienting, someone was shaking him by the shoulders.
“Jock. Wake up.” A pause, then another shake, “Jock.”
“Huh..?” Jock managed to spurt while blinking through the wetness in his eyes, “Whaz happenin’..?”
Slowly he regained comprehension of his surroundings, realising that he was indeed still in the office. Jock lolled his head to look at whoever was standing over him, only to see the oh so familiar, oh so punchable face of Sanders staring right back. Through soggy blond bangs, his eyes followed the man’s prim posture down towards where he was clearly and unapologetically holding a water jug.
“Did you just.. Pour water on me?” Jock’s words slurred with his fast returning exhaustion, redirecting his gaze to his coworker’s (steadily increasing in punchability) face.
Sanders shrugged, dropping the jug on the desk, “You weren’t waking up. Why are you still here? It’s one in the morning.”
Jock’s eyes narrowed, “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to escort you back to your apartment. Since you obviously can’t make it back yourself.” Sanders pulled a small towel out of seemingly nowhere and scrubbed at Jock’s head as he protested. He tried to lean away, swatting weakly at his arms.
“Get off– I can get home myself, thank you very much.” He shoved his coworker out of his personal space and stood abruptly, making him lose his balance immediately and tip sideways. If not for Sanders catching him, he would have likely suffered a concussion.
“And how do you plan on doing that? There are no buses at this hour.” Sanders set him straight, brushing invisible dust off his shoulder. “And you can barely walk by yourself.”
Right. The time. He’d forgotten about the time. And he supposed Sanders was right about him being too tired out of his skull to walk properly. One step onto the streets and he would be mistaken for a regular drunk.
As if on cue, Jock yawned, “Fine. Sure. Whatever. Lead the way,” he desperately tried to rub the drowsiness from his eyes, to no avail.
Without warning, Sanders moved closer, snaking an arm around his torso in an awkward-looking side hug. Jock startled, glancing at the other man.
“What’re you doing?”
“Helping you walk.” Sanders met his gaze with his regular stone-faced stare, cobalt eyes shining slightly in the low-light of the office.
Jock stared back, sleepily, his brain still buffering. He didn’t fully register that Sanders had already begun leading him to the exit, specifically towards the staff parking lot. Rather, he was too busy focusing on not falling asleep where he stood. Seriously, he can’t be getting that old could he?
Or perhaps it may be the fatigue of keeping up the constant nine to five work routine catching up to him. Jock seemed to all but blink and suddenly his coworker’s van greeted them from the darkness of the lot. Behind a cluster of clouds, the moon shone, making the purple hue of the vehicle look even nicer than it already was in the daylight. Sanders opened the passenger door for him, helping Jock climb inside. Or at least, attempted to. Having to be helped inside a car like a toddler was quite embarrassing. He could manage it himself, regardless of how dizzy it made him.
The van rumbled as it rolled out of the parking lot and into the streets of LA, bustling with late night workers, partygoers and the usual. You’d never see an empty street in this tourist attraction of a city. Jock leaned against the passenger door, head resting against the window to chase the coolness of the glass. His elbow was propped on the door pocket, head in his hand.
He could feel his eyelids drooping again, the jarring silence inside the vehicle not helping the matter. The only thing keeping him conscious at this point was the constant flashing of neon lights that would assault his vision as Sanders drove throughout the city. Although he hardly noticed, the lights progressively dimmed as they strayed further from the main city area until it was eventually made up of scattered streetlights.
After who knows how long, the low growling of the engine came to a halt. Promptly followed by the twisting of keys and the driver’s door opening and slamming shut. It was still incredibly dark out, which did nothing but nudge Jock further back into a sleep-state. So what he failed to predict was the sudden empty space where he was previously leaning all of his weight onto. The passenger door opened and he toppled out, crashing right into Sanders. Again.
Of course Sanders caught him again . He steadied the both of them, preventing an awkward scenario where Jock would have knocked him over and ended up splayed out on top of him. And hey, he might have even dozed off that way. But Sanders having to carry him up to his apartment himself would definitely have been so embarrassing he wouldn’t dare show up at work the next day, nor look him in the eye properly ever again.
Though, as Jock’s eyes regained their focus he realised he was having to make eye contact with his work partner sooner than he thought. Their faces were.. Extremely close. Jock’s breath hitched, half surprised that Sanders hadn’t pushed him away already. But he was indeed still holding him steadily by his shoulders while Jock dumped all of his weight on him. Sanders did offer to help keep him upright, could you blame him?
It really felt like time had slowed down around them, and he swore he saw Sander’s eyes flicker downwards and back up for a split second. Jock shook his head mentally. No, he was seeing things, obviously.
The odd moment was over sooner than it began when Sanders pulled away and flicked the side of his head lightly, teasingly even. Although, Sanders appeared to have turned his head away from him, like he was hiding his face. And was he actually hallucinating or was Sanders blushing just now? It was probably nothing. Maybe the lighting from the apartment building they were approaching was playing tricks on his perception. He really needed to get better sleep. It was doing weird things to his brain.
“Idiot.” Sanders muttered as he pulled the tired man towards the entrance to the building. He mumbled something else but Jock had no idea what he was saying. He was too busy staring at Sander’s face. Well, all he could currently see of it, which was the right side.
It wasn’t everyday he had the chance to admire him up close like this. Sure his face was punchable, but it wasn’t like he’d ever denied that his coworker was actually good-looking. I mean, out loud he’s denied it, but he could qualify for the pining olympics with his thoughts alone.
He didn’t notice, but before he knew it they were making it up the several flights of stairs that lead to Jock’s apartment, Sanders still stone-faced and oblivious to his staring. And then they were at the door where Jock subconsciously reached for his keys and twisted the knob, pushing the door open to reveal an average looking interior drowned in pitch black, save for the light seeping in from the hallway.
Neither of them bothered to switch on the lights. Nor shut the door behind them, apparently. At least they had some illumination.
Jock opened his mouth to tell Sanders that he could handle himself from here, but Sanders was already pushing him towards the un-made bed. It was king size, but its cramped width made it feel more like a generously sized queen.
Before he could react, his coworker lifted him and basically slam dunked him onto the tangle of blankets and pillows.
“HEY–!”
“My work here is done. Good night.” Sanders dusted his hands off like he had been handling some dirty animal before turning 180 degrees and making a break for the front door.
“Wait.” Jock leaped and snagged the end of Sanders’ stupid coattail just in time, yanking him back. Sanders turned and blinked his ‘What the hell do you want now’ blink. Weird how he could read him pretty easily nowadays despite his face never moving once in the sixteen years they’ve worked together.
His intense stare made Jock fluster as he tried to gather his words.
“You know it’s pretty late. You can, um, sleep here tonight if you want.” Since when did his heart start beating so loudly? Could Sanders hear this!?
“..My couch is pretty comfortable.”
Sanders stared at him for a moment like he was actually considering his offer, but he could see the protest in his eyes. Eventually he shook his head, directing his gaze to the floor.
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he answered, tugging on the piece of clothing Jock was still gripping onto for dear life.
Jock let go, face flushing in embarrassment. He sat himself upright, clutching one of the pillows to his chest as he watched Sanders leave.
“Right. Well. See you at work tomorrow then,” he called after him pathetically.
Sanders paused at the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. “Sleep well, Jock.”
And then the door clicked shut, and he was alone again. For real this time. In the darkness of his not-so-homey home. Jock flopped on his back with a tired groan, slamming the pillow into his face a few times and chanting “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
It was a stupid idea after all to invite Sanders to stay. He had definitely crossed the line with that. An invisible line he’d set to prevent himself from actually trying to pursue anything with his coworker.. Maybe best friend? Because that was just crazy. Absolutely insane.
He didn’t even fully understand his own feelings, let alone Sanders’. It was probably a better idea to let whatever they had going on marinate for a few more years. He doubted anything would change.
Jock stared at the ceiling with a sigh. So now his body decides to magically erase any trace of exhaustion he had prior to his mini freak out. Great. And now things were probably going to be awkward between him and Sanders the following day anyway. Double great.
Turning over onto his side, he noticed he was still wearing his shoes. And his work clothes. And he was kind of hungry. May as well properly get ready for bed then. It was going to be a long Friday.
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The first thing he was met with when he arrived at work at 7AM, eyes languid with lack of sleep, was all of his paperwork complete and stacked perfectly on the desk he and Sanders found themselves sharing.
Speaking of Sanders, he was nowhere to be found. Jock rubbed his temple in confusion. Gosh, everything was so confusing all the time, did the previous night’s events even happen? Was he finally going mental? It was an inevitable occurrence in this field of work.
But no, the day went on. Sanders arrived later than usual with a coffee for himself, he had even bought Jock a little something too to get him through the day. Now that was the most out of ordinary aspect about everything that happened in the last 24 hours.
Mr. Boss assigned them another tax to collect, and they went on their way as they normally would. Jock didn’t mention the events of a particular Thursday night in the middle of spring, and neither did Sanders, unsurprisingly enough. And it would remain this way it seemed.
For neither of them brought it up for the rest of, well, ever.