Work Text:
The room stained sepia like coffee. Even the small light through the blinds would agree in exceptional yellow. And amongst it all, there was its detective. His wooden figure fit perfectly along the brazen, red oak furniture.
Rodger knelt against his office table. The grooves of the table plateaued at the edges, the legs reeded on pointe, carefully balancing itself as it held the heavy contemplation of a thinker.
His scribblings were indecipherable by some, but to him they were like quaver notes to sheet music. Marble pillars of research were stacked high from where the eye could see, all in neat columns.
Creaking of old wood and the quiet shutterings of outside gently echoed throughout the room like clockwork; Quite similar to the inner mechanisms of Rodger’s careful mind. There was a creak, and then another creak. And suddenly the door thumped hard to his left like an angry drum.
Sometimes Rodger was so lost in thought that he’d even tune out people knocking on his door. And other times, people during the middle of a conversation as well. He stared the door down intently like a frightened owl. His heart felt heavy to the possible wet, invertebrate, shrimp menace that would lie outside his chamber. He’d have none of it.
But something abnormal twanged in his mind, like a dog’s sense to a magnet. That ghoul wouldn’t bother to knock, let alone wait for anybody. If his judgement was incorrect it would even make his ego more sour than if he were punched in the eye! Maybe it was his curiosity eating away at him, but something drew him to opening that dreadful door. What struck Rodger wasn’t any fist, but the loveliness that was your smile just outside his door
“Ah, isn’t it the formidable Y/N!” Rodger bowed his head at you. His voice had a rich, warm, suave air to it. The kind of voice you could spread on your morning bread. It’s scared you at one point, especially hearing it from behind with a large hand on your shoulder. Despite how large of a man Rodger was he always managed to sneak up on you. This wasn’t a habit he broke in the slightest.
Except now the hand on your shoulder at this moment felt worn like a wool mitten. You contemplated to yourself how much warmer it’d be snuck in between yours. You just barely remembered to chuckle at his joke as you realized that he was staring at you eagerly.
“Hey, Rodger. You aren’t busy, right?”
“No, no. Not at all, my dear Y/N.” He was busy, he was working on his research. But not anymore of course.
“Do you think I can hang out in your office?”
“Indeed. I entrust you won’t make any ruckus, pry into my work, or start any fires, will you?” He nudged his eye a little in a languid smile.
“Nope! Unless you ask me to.
“Hmhm, excellent. You’re welcome to my office anytime then,” And like the gentleman he was, he welcomed you to his office with a politely raised arm.
The smell of a detective's thirst for knowledge invited you. His room had a comforting smell of an old, well read book, and notes of coffee that illustrated to you the long nights he must’ve sat in his office.
But the thing you noticed the most was when you were idly looking for a place to sit. There were chairs of course. But not the kind you’d decide to spend hours in. Actually, it was insane to imagine sitting in those chairs to work at all. You wondered to yourself if this was the reason Rodger complained about body aches.
After glancing at you, It had come to Rodger that he’d never set up anything too comfortable to lay or sit on at all. It’d only make the finest of logic to make everything in his room as sophisticated and wooden as him.
Rodger usually came to people, but people never came to him………… willingly anyways. His usual guests usually either sat and crawled around on the floor, or reclined against any furniture they could find like the world’s most slanted flamingo.
His head sunk into his shoulders as his lens glowed a soft pink. The shame was already put to words in his mind. How could a great detective like him be so forgetful to even bring a cushion for a guest? He was such a disgraceful host! Meanwhile, you were looking off into the distance, contemplating using his lap as a cushion.
“Hey, Rodger? Do you have a bed anywhere?” You glanced at him, there must be somewhere he slept. It’s not like he’d sleep sprawled out in the middle of the floor like a bear inside a cave. At least you hoped he didn’t.
“Ah, I usually.. Hm. Rest while sitting at my desk. I try to keep as little comfort near my office as I can when I begin my work in order to reduce the amount I sleep in a day. My time is precious! I shan’t waste it on trivial things.”
Somehow, that answer was worse. You were gonna make this man comfortable this instant.
“Am I trivial?” You tilted your head and pouted, your words dangled over him like a carrot on a stick.
“Of course not, Y/N! In fact, I’ll go running to find something comfortable you can rest on if you so wish, my dear!”
“N-no, Rodger.” You held your hands up like he was going to explode. “What I was trying to say was that, I kinda want you to head over to my room. I know it’s not as cool as yours, but, at least you can chill out for a bit, right?”
“‘Cool’, you say? Hmm, very well. If I am ‘cool’ I suppose I wouldn’t mind ‘chilling’” Rodger stroked his chin.
He tasted the word “cool” in his mind with the deliberation of a sommelier. Yes, yes he was indeed very “cool”. The words attacked your ears coming from him like a tongue to your earlobes. Maybe you should never talk to him ever again actually.
You nudged Rodger along to come with you and he hummed in agreement. Rodger made a habit of following you from behind, much like a stalker would. It wasn’t surprising to you now, but even then, your neck itched occasionally to turn back to see if he went somewhere else without you looking, catching him sniffing his surroundings.
Of course there was no sniffery when you looked over your shoulder, his hands were winged politely behind his back, he strut thoughtfully similar to the trotting of a crow. What a distinguished gentleman! He sidled in front of your door and opened it for you before you could even reach the handle yourself.
Rodger carefully scouted your room to avoid accidentally stepping on anything he shouldn’t. Or maybe to just appraise your lifestyle by the conditions of your room. You fell to your bed with your arms out like a free bird. He parroted you, even if he wasn’t as limber as you against the mattress. His body twisted on your bed, unsure how he would make himself comfortable. This room wasn’t his after all, and it surely didn’t smell like his either.
“Are you not a fan of the bed, Rodger?”
“I know what I may look like Y/N..! But don’t fret, it’s simply the chills of getting in bed, that’s all. The bed is perfectly firm enough for my back.” He insisted. Whatever you say, Rodger.
“Well if you’re a little chilly, I could help you keep warm, Rodger.”
“I’d rather not put on extra layers while I rest as it tends to make me overheat. But thank you for the offer, dear Y/N.”
“No, I meant if I could cuddle up with you-”
“Y-yes! Yes..! Indeed you can. That’d be very lovely.” He gripped at his necktie taut in embarrassment. Both of you were aware that he sounded a little too eager. He cleared his throat.
You’re not complaining to that, you slinked over to him gently on your fours. Rodger was laying straight on his back twiddling with his thumbs staring at the ceiling . There was a slow, unfamiliar warmth to his hands, until he noticed that you were petting his hands.
“You have a little bump.. On your ring finger.” You brushed the tiny bump between his fingers.
“Of course, that’s my writer’s callus. It’s caused by the friction between a pen and its holder's hand after many, many years of penmanship!”
That seemed to shrug off some of the static in his shoulders. You listened closely to him proudly explaining the different forms of gripping a pencil, including the real terms for the ways an adolescent could. Most of the words that he eloquently pronounced were incomprehensible to you, except for “palmar supinate” mostly because it rang like “Palmer soup and ate”.
You told Rodger about this, and you got a chuckle from him. And before you knew it, you two were snuggled against each other like two doves. Rodger’s nerves melted away like ice. it tickled when his chest softly bounced with his laughter and it just made sense to hug him even tighter.
Rodger’s suit gently bunched tightly along your arms. Its dark fabric glimmered like the plumage of a corvid. His plush stomach rested on Rodger’s torso like a velvet pillow to a silk bed. Your hand found itself stroking the side of his wooden frame, the pads of your fingers compared to how calloused Rodger’s was no match for how lovely Rodger’s face felt.
“Sorry to interrupt but, this suit is awfully tight on me in this position..” Your eyes moved down to his breast and watched carefully as his fingers fiddled with the buttons on his suit. The white of his dress shirt gradually spilled out like soft cotton to an undone seam. One by one.
As you hugged him, you couldn’t help but notice the give his chest had to yours, like the soft crop of a bird. If he let you, it’d be a nice place to rest your head on while you slept. The fabric felt so light that you almost could recall the features of his body underneath through your fingertips. And Rodger would agree, gently rumbling noises of pleasure as he felt as you pet and stroked his old back.
“Look at how sleepy you are! Don’t snore too loud if you’re planning to sleep in my room, okay?”
“Hmph, who ever told you about resting? Justice never sleeps! But, ahem, I can’t guarantee I won’t snore..”
“Well, I guess if you’re going to stay awake I’ll have to cuddle and pet you forever and you’ll never be able to work the whole day!”
“.....That wouldn’t be too terrible.”