Work Text:
Greg stares gloomily at the name on the plaque next to the office door. He sighs and runs a hand over his burning eyes. He’s tired, even more so, knowing that he could by at home, on his sofa by now. This is what he gets for trying to be nice.
He offers his assistance once, and only because Rhod said it was a personal emergency – and now he’s stuck in the office after hours, loaded with so much paperwork, that he barely managed to find his desk this morning. And, of course, on top of everything else, the person, who he’s supposed to hand this report in with until tomorrow, needs to be Alex Horne. Of all the people in this hellscape of an office, it had to be him.
Objectively, there is nothing wrong with having to work with Alex Horne. It might be a blessing, actually, considering the man is a genius at admin to an almost disturbing degree. He’s practically fused to that stupid clipboard that he carries everywhere. His desk looks like the ultimate pegboard of stationery, with everything labelled and positioned meticulously. He could probably survive the apocalypse on paperclips and sticky notes alone.
And maybe that’s why Greg can’t stand him: the man’s a complete mystery to him. He wears sweaters three times his own size, with motifs that Greg wouldn’t wish onto the most annoying elementary school child. He’s friendly with all office staff, even with Jack from IT, who is notorious for hating everyone. He’s a pro at what he does, yet somehow still manages to have enough time to hang around Mark and Tim every lunchbreak and organise the ridiculous bird-watching club. Additionally, he’ll pop by Greg’s office at least once a day to request useless data for some far-fetched analysis, that will cost Greg at least twenty minutes to find.
To put it short: he annoys the living shit out of Greg.
And, okay, maybe some of it is because he’s the only one in the office who seems immune to Greg’s charm. And, okay, maybe some of it is also because he completely ignored all of Greg’s advances. And, okay, a lot of it is maybe also because he turned Greg down on that date offer last Christmas.
A real low point in Greg’s life, which will forever haunt his dreams in vivid detail.
Greg had been toeing around Alex for the better half of a year at that point. Whenever Alex would pop into his office, Greg would put on his most charming smile and pull out his, admittedly, rusty pick-up lines. Not once had any of his suggestions been met with anything but awkward indifference. And it would be fine if Alex wasn’t interested in him, really, but then the guy should just come out and say it already, instead of being mean about it.
Last October, for example, they were talking about collecting their current data in a dedicated meeting. Greg said something about how they ‘needed to find a date for it’, and then, after some hesitation, added “maybe the two of us can also find a date” with a suggestive grin. Alex had only given an uninterested hum, saying that it was ‘management’s job actually’.
And then in November they had been blocking the watercooler, laughing and talking about Alex’s new egg-themed socks, and Greg thought that he might, possibly, actually have a chance. But then Alex’s only response to Greg’s remark about how they ‘would also make quite the pair’ had been a distracted “I don’t think we would actually. Completely different sizes.” Like, okay, Greg gets the message, but there are nicer ways to put it.
And then in December, Greg had finally managed to gather the courage to ask Alex to go to the Christmas party with him, and all the guy did was laugh in his face - like the idea itself was unthinkable to him.
And yeah, maybe it’s a lot about that, actually. But that still doesn't change the fact that the guy’s a total prick.
Greg sighs again. He’s absolutely going to blame Rhod for ruining his Friday. Personal emergency his ass – what kind of ‘personal’ is he even talking about? The prick probably just wanted to spend Friday evening at the pup instead of the office. Greg can’t blame him, if he’s being honest.
With a last sound of defeat, he knocks.
Alex’s office is warm and smells of tea. The man himself is sitting behind his desk, as usual neatly ordered, not a single page out of place. A lot of the space is also covered by photos and little knickknacks. There are several rubber ducks in all sizes and forms and one of these ball pendulum things that make the most annoying clicking sound.
Alex looks up from the computer screen and gives Greg a gappy grin. “Hey, how can I help you?”
Greg rolls his eyes at his cheery tune. “Apparently, we’re supposed to be doing the report together,” he says, holding up his laptop and pointing at the open spreadsheet.
Alex frowns slightly. It shows in a little dimple just between his eyebrows, which Greg definitely doesn’t think is cute. “Oh, I thought Rhod was going to-”
“He had a personal emergency,” Greg growls, positioning himself in the chair opposite Alex’s desk, without waiting for an invitation.
Alex watches him and his frown deepens. “Mm, and you-”
“Yes, I’m the poor sod who has to do the work instead.” Greg sighs. This is going to be a very long evening. If Alex is supposed to make it out of this office alive, Greg will have to work hard on his restraint.
“Oh,” Alex says, and Greg is definitely not affected by how displeased he sounds. He does the thing with his eyes, where he looks down at the ground and back at Greg in short succession. Greg despises it. It makes him feel like he’s hard to look at.
Alex’s hands start fiddling with his computer screen. “And nobody else was- I mean-”
Greg pinches the bridge of his nose, throwing Alex a tired look from over his laptop screen. “Look, I don’t like this either, okay? But could we just get on with it, so it will be over sooner for the both of us?”
“I- oh- of course, yes, sure,” Alex stammers, and looks away again. Greg grinds his teeth and decides to ignore it.
They work in silence after that. The tension in the air is almost tangible. Greg keeps getting distracted, because he can see Alex’s eyes flickering over to him every five seconds or so. It’s a somewhat nervous stare out of the corner of his eyes, never lasting more than a few seconds. It drives Greg fucking insane. Does he have something on his shirt? Did he forget to close his pants after the last toilet run?
“Okay, can you stop that?” he snaps after what feels like the thousandth time in only so many minutes.
Alex gives another of his signature frowns. “Stop what?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” Greg snarls. “The fucking stares - like I’m some kind of grotesque monster or something.” He motions at his body.
And Alex does look. His eyes fly over Greg’s whole body, twitching back and forth almost nervously. They linger on Greg’s stomach just a second too long. Greg hates how self-conscious it makes him feel. “You’re doing it again!”
Alex’s cheeks turn red. “I’m not- I wasn’t-” he stutters.
“Of course, you bloody were.” If Greg’s eyes were lasers, Alex would be a pile of ash by now. Greg hopes Rhod won’t mind the spontaneous combustion of one of his colleagues, as long as he still hands in the report on time. Collateral damage and all that.
Alex opens his mouth again, but Greg cuts him off with a glare. “No, don’t bullshit me, Horne. Just leave it, okay?”
Alex closes his mouth. He looks like he wants to say more.
The silence afterwards is even thicker. The anger is still simmering just beneath the surface. Alex keeps his eyes pointedly off Greg, which somehow feels even worse. Especially, because Greg catches him almost looking from time to time.
The hands on the clock begin to blur, just like the numbers on the screen. Greg’s too irritated to focus properly. At this pace they’ll make it home by Sunday evening. He really, really needs a vape. He sighs.
“You want a coffee?” he asks. He fights the urge to raise his voice again. He can be civil, he tells himself. Look at him being a proper fucking adult.
Alex looks up in surprise. “I- um, yes, please. Milk and-”
“-sugar, I know,” Greg says, forcing himself out of the chair with a groan. His arse has fallen asleep somewhen around three hours ago. “You’re a weirdo who drinks too much sugar.”
It’s perfectly reasonable, of course, to have Alex’s coffee order memorized. It’s just something that happens naturally after having worked together for so many years. It’s not like Greg paid special attention to it or anything.
“Oh, I- yes,” Alex says. He coughs and somehow looks a little faint. So, faint in fact, that Greg’s concerned he’ll have to scrape him off the floor any moment. “I mean- thank you.”
Greg narrows his eyes at him. “You good?” He’s not particularly interested in doing a trip to the hospital this evening. And especially not because of Alex fucking Horne.
“I-yeah,” Alex squeaks, and his white skin tone is quickly replaced by an equally concerning flush.
Greg only shrugs. It’s probably just Alex being weird again. None of his concern, anyway.
He’s thankful for the breath of fresh air outside the office, as he makes his way to the small kitchen. Somehow, the tension is really getting to him. He can already feel the harbingers of a headache between his temples.
He returns later with two coffee cups in hand. Alex accepts his, takes a big gulp and hums appreciatively, which does absolutely nothing to Greg’s insides. Then he smiles, showing off the gap between his teeth again, which Greg obviously has no opinion on either.
They settle back into their work, and, strengthened by the magic of a good cup of coffee, Greg thinks they might actually manage to finish all of it today.
That is until Alex starts humming. Greg doesn’t even notice it at first. He’s so engrossed in the work, that the noise just settles comfortably into the background. When he does though, it makes him do a doubletake.
The sound is weird, a little rough and definitely off-tune, but it also has something sweet and innocent about it. Something that definitely doesn’t make Greg’s heart beat a little faster.
“What the fuck is that supposed to be?” he finds himself saying. He instantly wishes he hadn’t. He wasn’t going to mention the humming at all, but it seems his traitorous mouth had different plans for him.
Alex looks up from his own work. “Mm?” he asks.
Greg decides it’s too late to pretend, anyway. “That awful sound you’re making,” he clarifies, motioning in the vague direction of Alex’s mouth.
The frown makes a reappearance. “I- I was not making any sound?”
Greg rolls his eyes. “Of course, you bloody were. You were humming some weird song.”
Alex goes very, very red. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t notice.” He scratches his nose. “Me and my band, we’re doing rehearsals currently. It must have gotten stuck in my head.”
Greg is already midway through uttering a dismissive scoff, when the words fully register with him. “Wait- your band? You have a band?” he asks in utter disbelief. He regards Alex’s clothes again: he doesn’t look the music type at all. He looks more like a kindergarten teacher who got lost in an IKEA ten years ago.
“I- um- yes?” Alex blushes again. Something he does a lot. Not that Greg noticed or anything.
Greg senses a chance here. He grins, resting his elbow on the table. “Okay go on then, what instrument do you play?”
Alex hums. “Not really an instrument. I, er, sing?”
“You? Sing?” Greg raises his eyebrows. “Fucking hell mate.” He chuckles.
Alex does too, after a few seconds of hesitation. It’s a weird feeling, Greg decides. He remembers suddenly why he enjoyed talking to Alex so much. At the same time the fragile peace between them feels ready to collapse any second.
“I, um-,” Alex says, “you play the drums, right? I, er, I think I saw you playing at the last summer party.”
Greg stops, perplexed. He didn’t think anyone would remember his mediocre playing at a party, which most people were too pissed to remember anyway. “Yeah, um, yeah, I do. Pretty shit at it, but,” he shrugs, “you know.” He laughs.
Alex doesn’t. “I thought you were pretty good.”
Greg rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
“No really.”
Greg looks up to find Alex staring at him. He feels like he’s becoming the butt of a joke – a joke he doesn’t understand. Alex smiles tentatively. It looks really fucking nice, actually. “You were good.”
Greg swallows. The intensity of Alex’s stare is kind of getting to him. He tries to come up with a joke to diffuse the weird tension in the air but comes up empty. “I- thanks,” he says.
He pretends to go back to work afterwards. It’s not really working, to be honest. His thoughts keep circling back to the way Alex looked at him. The room suddenly feels too small and too hot.
It’s Alex who breaks the silence in the end.
“Why don’t you like me?”
Greg’s head snaps up from his laptop. He thinks he must have misheard the question. “Pardon?”
“Why don’t you like me?” Alex repeats. He draws his sweater’s sleeves over his hands. His voice is small, and he keeps doing the thing with his eyes again. “You’ve been avoiding me for months. And- and if we talk, you’re always rude to me.”
Greg laughs dryly. “You’re one to talk, mate. The question is why do you hate me?”
“I-what?” Alex blinks. “I don’t hate you.”
Greg scoffs, putting his laptop down on the table. “Oh yeah, of course not. You just ignored all my advances, which is like okay and all, but instead of just saying ‘no thank you’, like any decent human being, you have to make fucking jokes about it.”
“I-wait- what advances?”
Greg shakes his head angrily. “Oh, come off it. It’s not like you didn’t laugh in my face when I asked you out.”
“What- I- what?” Alex stammers. “You didn’t ask me out.”
Greg jumps to his feet, irritation itching all over his skin. “Of course, I bloody did. We were standing right there by the watercooler, and I told you how my date for the Christmas party had cancelled.” He starts walking up and down the length of the office. “And then I suggested you come with me next time, so we could talk there, instead of blocking the watercooler for hours.”
“Oh.” Alex looks suddenly very white. He shrinks into his chair. “I-I thought you were joking.”
“What? Why would I be joking?” Greg snaps.
“You laughed afterwards.” Alex fiddles with the paper on his desk, pointedly not meeting Greg’s eyes. “And - well, I thought there was no way that you would want to go out with…someone like me.” His words grow quieter to the end of the sentence, until they’re barely audible at all. He’s sunken back into his sweater like a turtle hiding in its shell.
“I- why-” Greg deflates. Alex looks so sad that he can’t find it in him to be angry any longer. “I was flirting with you for months. Of course, I wanted to go out with you.”
Alex’s ears turn pink. “I didn’t know you were flirting with me,” he mumbles.
Greg rubs at his eyes. The situation is going over his head a little. “What? What else did you think I was doing? Making a fool out of myself on purpose?”
Alex shrugs, he looks very embarrassed by all of this. “Don’t know. You’re friendly with most of the staff. Maybe you just like to say weird stuff.”
Greg huffs. “But I don’t invite the rest of the staff to the Christmas party now, do I?” he asks, exasperated.
Alex hums. For a moment it’s just the sound of the pc ventilation breaking the silence.
“I was flirting with you too, you know,” Alex says, suddenly.
Greg barks a laugh. “The fuck you were.”
“I was.” Alex smiles shily. “Or did you really think I needed to ask you for new data every single day?”
Now it’s Greg’s turn to feel embarrassed. “Oh,” he says, the last of his anger evaporating. In fact, he doesn’t know what to think at all.
A laugh bursts from his stomach. “What a pair we make, huh?”
Alex looks at him, apparently recalling the conversation they had several months ago. He giggles.
Greg laughs too. Relief is flooding through him. Relief and something else. Something, that feels suspiciously like hope.
After a while, Alex manages to get his giggling back under control. He’s still grinning though. “I think I have something I need to tell you, Greg,” he says, biting his lip.
Greg’s heart does an excited flip. “Oh, yeah?”
Alex nods, schooling his features into a serious expression. “Yes.” There is little doubt about his intentions, though, as his eyes sparkle and the corner of his mouth twitches. “I think I’d like to kiss you,” he says.
Greg’s skin prickles. He can barely contain his own grin. He smirks, leaning over the table, closer to Alex’s face. “Oh, do you? Come on then.”
Alex does the same and their breaths mingle. Their eyes meet for a second. Their stares burn into each other. Then Greg surges forward and closes the space between them.
Papers fly everywhere, as they clash with desperation and urgency. Alex pulls Greg closer by the collar of his shirt while Greg’s hand finds the back of Alex’s head. It’s messy and sloppy and absolutely perfect.
They are both breathing heavily, when they finally break apart.
“Do you think we should finish the report first?” Alex asks, eyeing the chaos around them.
“Fuck that,” Greg says with a grin. “This is a personal emergency.”
Alex laughs. Greg pulls him in for a second time.