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The fluorescent lights of the roller rink buzzed softly, casting a warm, slightly nostalgic glow over the polished floor. The place smelled faintly of popcorn and rubber, the typical aroma of a well-worn rink. Chase Beckley, however, was too preoccupied with his immediate survival to appreciate the ambiance. He clung to the wall with a white-knuckled grip, trying to look as though he had everything under control while his legs wobbled like a newborn deer on wheels.
Why, in all the questionable decisions their company could have made, did they choose a roller rink for a team-building event? On a Friday night, no less. He could be anywhere else right now—like at a bar, comfortably seated and nursing a drink instead of wrestling with these treacherous death traps attached to his feet. What exactly was the connection between roller skating and workplace productivity, anyway?
His thoughts were rudely interrupted as a blur of motion zoomed past him, nearly sending him sprawling. Norman, his impeccably composed supervisor, was skating backward, effortlessly weaving through the other skaters with the ease of someone born with wheels instead of feet. A smug grin curled on Norman’s lips as he glanced back at Chase. “Having fun~?” The man’s voice dripped with that infuriatingly condescending tone he always seemed to reserve just for him. And just like that, Norman was gone, gliding across the rink with a few graceful strides.
The blond gritted his teeth. Of course, Norman would be good at this. The man was disgustingly competent at everything, whether it was something as mundane as a presentation or, apparently, roller skating. It wasn’t just a company event anymore—it was a stage for the achromatic man to flaunt his endless list of skills. Well, Chase Beckley wasn’t about to be shown up by a man who couldn't even handle the color beige.
With a determined huff, Chase cautiously released his grip on the wall, his attempt at looking nonchalant marred only by the way his legs shook as he tried to balance. For a fleeting moment, he felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he was getting the hang of it. Then the wheels beneath him seemed to have other ideas, twisting in ways wheels shouldn’t, sending him crashing to the floor with all the grace of a falling tree.
Laughter—high-pitched and merciless—broke out from a group of kids who skated past him with the effortless agility that only the young seemed to possess. Chase groaned, sitting up slowly and rubbing his now throbbing behind. “Little brats…” he muttered under his breath, his frustration mounting. How was it that these little speed demons made it look so easy while he was here, fighting for his life on the rink?
“Need help?”
Chase looked up and found himself face to face with Simon, the team’s newest member. The concern in the ravenette's wide, dark eyes only served to deepen the pit of embarrassment in the blond's stomach. The last thing he needed was to be pitied by the team’s favorite newbie.
In a frantic scramble to save face, Chase forced himself back onto his feet, using the wall as a crutch. “Ha, no need pal! I’ve definitely got this under control. That last bit? Just a fluke. The universe must’ve decided to give me a taste of your infamous luck.”
Simon raised an eyebrow, the skepticism in his expression clear. “My ‘infamous’ luck, huh? Well, if you don’t need help—”
“Nope, none at all!” The larger male plastered on one of his trademark grins, the kind that usually got him out of sticky situations. He just hoped it worked this time. “Got it all under control.”
The newbie hesitated, glancing at Chase’s unsteady legs before giving a small nod. “Alright, if you say so…”
Before Chase could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air. “Well, since you’ve got things under control~” Norman’s smooth, annoyingly confident tone reached his ears as the man glided back around, his eyes flicking over Chase with a knowing look before turning to Simon. Without missing a beat, the supervisor took the shorter male’s hand, gently guiding him away from the wall. “I could use your help, Simon~”
Chase’s irritation flared as he watched the two head toward the center of the rink. Norman, as usual, made it all look effortless. The man even had the nerve to pull off a spin, earning a laugh from Simon that seemed to echo through the rink. It was infuriating—how easily they moved together, how they seemed to enjoy each other's presence in this moment.
For a brief, irrational moment, Chase considered calling out to Simon, maybe cracking a joke to get his attention back. But his pride wouldn’t let him. He wasn’t about to ask for help, especially not in front of greyscale Gus. With a determined grunt, the blond forced himself to let go of the wall once more. He was going to figure this out if it killed him, even if that meant taking a few more nosedives. There was no way he’d give Norman the satisfaction of seeing him admit defeat—especially not in front of the newbie.
But as Chase took a shaky step forward, he couldn’t help but notice how close his two coworkers had become, skating side by side, their laughter blending with the upbeat music playing in the background. The sight gnawed at him more than he’d care to admit. The way Norman seemed to effortlessly connect with Simon, guiding him across the rink with that damn smug look, irritated the larger male to no end. Though, he wasn't exactly sure why.
Taking a deep breath, Chase pushed off from the wall, determined to at least make it across the rink without landing on his backside again. His legs wobbled, threatening rebellion with every push, but he managed to keep moving forward, albeit at a pace that would make a snail feel superior. He focused on the far end of the rink, mentally celebrating each tiny victory as he advanced step by unsteady step without greeting the floor.
“Nice job, Chase!” Simon’s voice rang out suddenly, snapping Chase out of his concentration. His heart did a little flip before he could stop it, and he turned his head just in time to see Simon’s encouraging smile as the ravenette skated by. “You’re getting the hang of it!”
The blond grinned back, though it was more of a grimace, and instantly regretted it as his balance wavered. “Of course! Nothing is too difficult for me!” he called out, trying to sound as confident as ever, but the strain in his voice betrayed him. He was so focused on keeping up the façade that he didn’t notice the small child zooming toward him until it was too late.
The collision wasn’t exactly catastrophic—a mere bump, really—but it was enough to send Chase sprawling onto the floor for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He landed with a resounding thud, his pride suffering a more substantial blow than his sore tailbone. The kid, oblivious to the damage done, giggled and skated off; that left Chase fuming on the floor, his frustration reaching a boiling point. For a moment, he closed his eyes, wondering if it would be so bad to just lie there until they could finally go home.
“Are you okay?”
Chase cracked one eye open to find Simon hovering over him, concern etched across his face. The ravenette bent down, offering a hand to help him up. “Here, let me help you.”
For a moment, Chase just stared at the outstretched hand, feeling a mixture of defeat and gratitude. With a sigh that felt like surrender, he reached up and took it. “Sure, thanks pal…” As he stood, the world seemed to tilt, his legs wobbling beneath him. Simon was quick to steady him, his grip firm and reassuring. “There you go, it might be easier if you have someone to hold onto, rather than the wall.”
The blond grumbled under his breath, his pride in tatters, but he knew Simon was right. “Yeah, why not? I—uh—I think I could use the help.”
His coworker chuckled softly, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You think?”
Chase felt his face flush, both from embarrassment and the way Simon was looking at him—a mixture of concern and ease. It was a strange feeling, one he wasn’t quite sure how to handle. Slowly, they glided away from the wall, taking a more proactive approach as the shorter male guided him further into the rink. Chase felt a strange mix of anxiety and comfort, knowing that he was entirely dependent on Simon to stay upright. Strange, he wasn't used to feeling anxiety.
“Try to push off gently,” Simon instructed, his voice calm and patient, “and lean forward a bit to keep yourself from falling back.”
It wasn’t easy. Every so often, Chase would wobble dangerously, and Simon would tighten his grip, pulling him back from the brink of disaster. They passed by Norman at one point, who was skating backward with that signature smile of his—a sinister, teasing glint in his eyes when they locked onto Chase. The blond caught the look for just a second before their supervisor spun away, disappearing into the crowd with the same grace he always displayed. He was definitely enjoying this.
After what felt like an eternity, Chase glanced down at Simon, who was still by his side, offering quiet encouragement. “You’re doing great, by the way. We’ve gone around twice, and you haven’t fallen once. Great job.”
Twice? Chase blinked, looking around in disbelief. They were already halfway around the rink again, and he hadn’t even noticed. Maybe asking for help wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
His coworker continued to guide him, teaching him bit by bit how to maintain his balance, and Chase found himself slowly gaining confidence. Even Norman popped in from time to time, offering pointers and trick tips that Chase begrudgingly had to admit were helpful. Spins, swirls, dips—their supervisor really was good at this; as much as the blond hated to admit it, he couldn’t deny the man’s skill.
Eventually, an announcement echoed through the rink, signaling its imminent closing. Chase glanced at his watch, his eyes widening in shock when he realized they’d been skating for an additional hour and a half.
Ninety minutes. the newbie had stayed by his side for all of it.
As they slowly made their way off the rink, Chase glanced down at the ravenette, noticing the relaxed smile on Simon’s face, illuminated by the soft pink glow of the fluorescent lights. Simon was already cute with just a smile—a rare luxury during their hectic workdays—but under these lights, his features seemed even softer, brighter—cuter than ever before.
The blond felt his cheeks heat up at the thought, his mind drifting before he suddenly remembered the rink’s short step just as they reached the edge. He realized it too late. The lower ground threw him off balance completely, Simon’s hand useless in keeping him upright.
And just like that, they both went down. Simon landed on top of Chase, the two of them tangled in a heap of limbs and skates.
“Fuck…” Chase cursed under his breath, his tailbone now throbbing for the third time that evening. He was pretty sure it was bruised by now—his perfect skin, marred. Before he could mourn the loss however, he froze as he registered the extra weight on top of him; the blond looked up to see Simon’s hand pressing into his chest as the ravenette tried to right himself, his glasses slightly askew.
“Ugh, you okay?” Simon asked, wincing as he pushed himself up. “Sorry, I should have reminded you about the step…”
Chase couldn’t stop staring at Simon, his mind a swirling mess of confusion and embarrassment. His cheeks felt like they were on fire, and he was utterly at a loss for words. It was all so bizarre, so cliché—
Kiss him.
Wait, what?
Do it, Chase.
Who the fuck— What was he thinking?
Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him—
“Oh my, what a disaster~” Norman’s voice cut through the chaotic noise in Chase’s head. He felt Simon being pulled off of him abruptly, their supervisor righting the ravenette and adjusting his glasses with a lingering touch. “There, I can't have both of you hurt and miss out on a day of work. Unless your broken bones can heal by Monday~” Norman turned his gaze to Chase, offering a smile and a hand. “Need help~?”
Chase gritted his teeth, turning it into a strained smile to keep up appearances. “Sure boss, thanks.”
Norman’s smile widened as he effortlessly lifted the well-built blond, as if Chase were made of tissue paper. Leaning in, Norman’s smooth, low voice brushed against Chase’s ear. “Quite the pair, you two. Just don’t do something I wouldn’t do~ You’re still at a company event~” A quick pat on the back and their supervisor was off, heading over to the rental return with Simon already at his side. Chase couldn’t shake the feeling that this guy wasn’t even real.
His hazel eyes followed the scene, landing on Simon, who was now chatting with Norman. the larger male sighed softly, scratching the back of his head, feeling his mind swirl with unanswered questions.
Kiss Simon? Where did that thought even come from? Chase was certain he wasn’t into him—right? What made him think that way?
After some time a hand gripping his arm jolted him back to reality. He glanced down to find Simon, now in his normal shoes, looking up at him with a friendly expression. “Need help getting back?”
Chase looked at their joined hands, the heat in his cheeks returning with a vengeance. “Uh, yeah, thanks newbie…”
As they started heading toward the rental table, Chase couldn’t resist asking. “... Hey, what were you and Norman laughing about earlier? When you were on the roller rink together.” He watched as Simon’s smile grew. “Want the truth?”
Well, duh newbie. At least, he hoped. “Yeah…?”
“It was about you. We made bets to see how long it would take for you to ask one of us for help and which one you’d ask.” Chase sighed, of course, they’d been talking about him. Still, he was curious. “Who won?”
Simon looked up at him, as if the answer was obvious. “Norman, of course. He said me. I said him, because he was more talented at it. But the funnier part was how close he was to the time—off by just a few minutes it seems.”
Chase couldn’t help but laugh, mumbling to himself. “Guess he knows me too well. I’d never ask him for help—”
The shorter male interjected, hearing his mumbling. “Why not?”
“I—uh—” Damn, he didn’t really have a good reason for it, at least not off the top of his head. “I—I guess I wanted you to teach me more. You seem like you’d be good at it, and you were…” Chase looked back at Simon, giving him a grin that conveyed his gratitude. His hazel eyes held a warmth that was hard to ignore. “Thanks, newbie. You were a great help.”
Simon’s cheeks reddened as he looked away, clearly flustered, but this was completely lost on the blond. “A-Ah… No problem.”
As they reached the rental table, the ravenette let go of Chase’s hand, not meeting his eyes. “Let me know when you’re done. Norman said he’d wait for both of us.” With that, he quickly turned and walked away, leaving Chase to finish up on his own.
Watching Simon’s retreating figure, Chase couldn’t shake the thought that popped into his mind. Cute.