Work Text:
Holy fucking shit. Today was… hard. Hah. But, yeah, no, it was a lot. Invisigal had just barely pulled herself up the ranks in time to leave Sonar and Coupe under risk of getting kicked off the team. It was a bullshit decision, a terrible idea in the first place to fire whoever was at the bottom of the list. Truly, the only thing it was doing was putting more pressure on the team and Robert. Maybe thinking of their dispatcher as not part of the team played a role in this. Sonar had just barely passed that 50/50 decision and Robert hadn't even sounded entirely confident in his choice. Man, he really owes a lot to that guy, huh? Maybe not a lot, considering the amount of stress Sonar felt over Robert's decision had made him leave the office without his beloved pen, donned with the Harvard logo! Terrible, truly awful.
Clearly, he had to go back to retrieve it. The idea that someone else could possibly lay a hand on his pen and claim that it was THEM who graduated instead of him? Unbearable, he wouldn't allow it. He could have flown, sure, but walking back would be better to help clear his mind and ease his stress. He’d had his teeth clenched for God knows how long. The air was cold and sharp with brisk winds, and the moon shone strikingly through thin, layered clouds. With his hands tucked into his pockets, he made it to the door of SDN. He paused, unable to stop the sense that something was… off. Was there someone inside? Who’d be here at this hour? The doors were unlocked. Weird. Victor rotated his ears, trying to listen for any sound inside, maybe rustling or footsteps. Nothing out of the ordinary. Yet.
He opened the doors and walked in, clicking a few times to add to the sound waves being sent around. Nothing in the lobby, but he expected that. He walked further inside, going for the elevator so he could go up to the floor with the meeting room where Robert had fired Coupe. The idea that it could have been him made him shudder. Was losing a friend worth keeping his job? Maybe. Yes. He needed to find his pen. What desk was he sitting at? Better yet, what is that sound? Victor looked around to find the office empty, he didn't pick up any sound until he looked up.
Music.
Muffled thumping from the floor upstairs. Who the hell would be here this late? Unless someone just forgot to turn off their PC and left Spotify running to cheat their Wrapped. How funny would it be to ruin that for them? Very. He had no choice but to return to the elevator, only after finding and pocketing his token of Harvard, and go upstairs. The idea of ruining someone's attempt at cheating the most useless thing that ends the year brought him whimsical amounts of joy. When the doors opened, heavy metal thrashed its way into his ears in a way no work computer would allow.
The squeaks of wet shoes on tile struck the next chord, some sort of water spraying, and the sound of a sponge wiping glass. Someone was cleaning the windows and, apparently, was able to… spit out? water? Sounded gross but at least the guy was putting his ability to good work.
"Hey man, what d'you have on?" Victor greeted, raising a hand. While he was expecting some sort of verbal greeting in return, what happened instead was a hard blast of water hitting him directly on his snout, sending him stumbling back.
"Oh my- Oh god, I'm- I- So, so sorry, let- I can, dry-" The nervous voice was cut off by Victor's laughing.
"Don't- ha! Fuckin' hilarious that you can do that," He grinned, ducking down to animalistically shake the water from his head fur. Wet hands hesitated with every movement but still tried brushing water off of Victor's suit, to no avail. The opposite of drying it, actually, the suit jacket, shirt, tie, all of it was getting soaked. It was clear this guy was trying to apologize, but he seemed intrinsically unable to piece a sentence together. Victor pushed his hands off and dried off his own suit, causing the other to wring his hands together and pull his goggles off his eyes to be placed just above his hairline.
"I'm going home for the night anyway, not that big a deal. Look, name's Sonar, let me buy you a drink. There's a new bar near my house, how'd you get here?" Was he being a bit too enthusiastic in his asking? Maybe. But this guy looked pathetic and was sopping wet. Made him look hot.
"I- you want- you, with me? Drinks?" He pointed to himself as if there some other person in the hallway.
"Anyone else in here wet?" Ha. He almost laughed, but with how much nervous chihuahua energy this guy exuded, he didn't want to risk it.
"Wet- that's, uh, I'm- Waterboy, is.. me- my name, or what they call me. Here." Waterboy, okay, sure. Stupid name but Victor could see it growing on him.
"Waterboy, get drinks with me."
