Chapter Text
Emerson picked at his nails, staring at the stained pub carpet. The two pints of cheap beer he’d necked in quick succession had not helped him from feeling like he’d egregiously overstepped the mark by asking his boss out. And the first few sips of the third pint were not helping ease his thoughts at all.
He didn’t know what was making him feel more sick at that moment , the desperate embarrassment of making it sound like he was asking Joe out , the acrid alcohol or the smell of stale beer and cigarettes that coated his nose as he inhaled.
The team’s deep chuckles ,powered by the inebriation from spirits and solved crimes, were doing very little to dull the pit in his stomach and the skin around his nails was beginning to become raw. And what frustrated him even more is that they’d solved the fucking case- he had no need to be sitting in his local , with his co-workers-turned-friends , with a heart rate of someone being hunted for sport. He took another swig of the beer , letting the bitter taste coat his tongue before zoning out again.
He felt D.C. Riley’s hand on his thigh before he heard her speak, the gentle slap bringing his attention back to the pub.
“Move up , the boss is here,”she said.
He looked up and met Joe’s eye with a smile ,before looking away.
“ I was starting to think you’d never show up,”Ray jibed.
“ I apologise,” Joe said , pursing his lips before continuing, “ I just had to finish the remainder of the paperwork.”
“Well someone had to do it,” Mansell half-yelled, clapping him on the back.
Joe smiled awkwardly, still uncomfortable with the casual touch from team members. Mansell caught his eye again , returning the smile with his own close-lipped smile;
“ This round’s on me ,” he said ,before shuffling to the bar .
The other man sidled into the remaining seat ,next to Kent. Their legs barely touched but it took every fibre of Kent’s being not to lean further into the touch.
Both men exchanged glances and looked away , not a single word spoken between them. Kent was conflicted , he didn’t know if the awkwardness was reciprocated feelings or a drawn-out rejection.
It’s not like it mattered anyway, not as if he’d been harbouring a schoolgirl crush on his boss for almost a year.
At least Joe had come to the pub , maybe all the figurative giggling and twirling his hair he’d been doing had actually paid off.
He was eventually drawn out of his delusions by the returning grating of Mansell’s voice, but he came bearing a few pints so it wasn’t all bad.
Clearly, Mansell hadn’t cared too much to think about what drink each of the staff would prefer, but he was thankful for the drink.
“Yeah forgot what you all liked to drink so i just got the cheapest shit,” He said, gesturing to the bottles in his hand, “plus definitely could not afford those girly BS cocktails.”
“Hey,” Riley exclaimed sarcastically, unfortunately used to the laddish banter .
“ What if it weren’t you I was talking to,” he jibed drunkenly, only for it to fall on awkwardly grimaced faces.
“ Haha funny joke , now give us the beer,” Kent reluctantly responded, biting back against the rising bile in his throat. He knew a sober Mansell wouldn’t have let that slip,but drunk Mansell certainly wasn’t helping the nausea die down. He mentally cursed himself, he hated this feeling of being on edge.
Emerson’s cutting response returned the table to their usual jokes , but for him the slight reassurance that Joe actually showed was starting to ebb adding to the discomfort.
Even the thought of his feelings being reciprocated wasn’t reassuring- he’d never been a relationship kind of guy, and certainly did not know how to navigate the whole relationship with your boss.
He wasn’t totally inexperienced but hating the body you were born in isn’t exactly the best recipe for secondary school or young adult relationships.
He plastered on a fake smile , trying to build a barrier against the intrusive thoughts.
“What I think is weird is the fact their thought out chief was some kind of saviour,” Riley said.
Chandler returned a hearty laugh, “ I can’t lie I feel like some kind of saviour having finally gotten to the bottom of that family.”
“ Not just any saviour, THE Jesus effing Christ,” Ray said , placing a strong emphasis on the article.
“Well it’s not any day you can save the entire world is it ,” Joe said , his eyes shining as he gazed around the table.
Kent looked away before Joe could meet his eyes , worried that he wouldn’t look his way .
He moved uncomfortably to look at the other side of the table , inspecting the weird torn beer mat. And it just turned out that in doing so he knocked his half drunk beer all over himself. Just his fucking luck.
The feeling of the beer-soaked shirt alone was almost enough to send him over the edge. He didn’t know if he was going to start a screaming match with the bottle or cry in front of the team , but seeing as neither appeared to be the best option he excused himself while his friend’s exclamations about the bottle continued.
His half-drunken trek across the pub seemed to take a lifetime and by the time he reached the hand dryer in the bathroom, the tears were already threatening to spill over. He breathed deeply,inhaling and exhaling , as he held his shirt under the dryer. He focused on how the dryer rippled the blue fabric and gradually lightened the stain of the beer, and almost completely ignored the sound of his boss entering the room.
Emerson had been so centred on his solitude, despite the convivial buzz of the pub, that he did not hear the door open.
“I just wanted to make sure you were ok,” Joe began rambling, “ It’s just I know what Mansell said wasn’t exactly nice, but you seem jumpy and out of it, unfocused it isn’t exactly like you.”
Kent was initially jarred by the blond entering the room, his solitude broken. He turned around ,catching the last few words of his colleague’s speech.
“ I’m drunk and I can’t do this,” he responded half-heartedly as the room around him spun.
“ can’t do what?” Joe asked, his eyes searching for the other man’s.
“ Can’t pretend that I’m ok with you being like this, with them being like them,” he sighed, “ with me almost crying like this.”
He almost gagged on the sincerity as the words tumbled out his mouth.
Joe didn’t respond, instead closing the space between them. He took the hem of his colleagues’ shirt from him under the dryer, their fingers brushing briefly. A touch as fleeting as their eye contact.
“Sorry they’re like this, ”Joe inhaled, feeling the way the polycotton dried under the warm air, “I know you know they can be a bit…”
“ Lairy,” Emerson responded with a resigned smirk. The usual smirk he left only for his boss.
“ Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
The hand dryer shut off .The room was utterly silent and Joe was tucking Emerson’s shirt back in ,his fingers dipping below the dark waistband momentarily.
Emerson’s breathing hitched ,so sure that this was just a perfunctory move , just another part of Joe’s need for everything to be in place.
He was even more sure of it when he awkwardly said he best be off home, ignoring how Joe’s hands lingered to smooth out the creases on the front of his shirt.
“Ok,”Joe replied, somewhat annoyed at his inability to read Emerson and his seemingly impetuous decision to leave the celebration early. “ text me when you get home safely.”