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Great. Awesome. Amazing.
Today was on track to competing for the single most humiliating day of Jock’s miserable life. His morning had started average, but his unusually OK mood was completely upended when Mr. Boss decided to personally torture him by declaring their next tax victim would be his own mother. His own flesh and blood.
Jock could hardly look her in the eye as he greeted the poor elderly widow the following afternoon, Sanders presumably waiting in the van for him. It was only when the purple haired tax collector got bored of sitting around that things took a frustrating turn. They both ended up inside Jock’s childhood room, his mother figured out their motives pretty quickly, and now they were locked in said room with no sign of his mom coming back to free them. And Sanders was yet to tidy the mess he’d made snooping while Jock wasn’t looking.
Honestly, it serves him right for trying to squeeze money out of his mom. There was no chance anything he did would even be remotely successful. He should have just kicked the bucket and paid the bill out of pocket. Sacrificing a small chunk of his already pathetic paycheck would be way better than having to endure all of this.
And Sanders’ presence wasn’t doing him any favours. Currently, he had taken residence on his old creaky bed, silently staring ahead. It was only when he sensed Jock’s eyes on him that he met his gaze. Jock has been working with him for over a decade now, and he could almost admit proudly that he had gained the ability to discern his coworkers' emotions, just slightly. So if his evaluation was correct, the brief twitch of the muscle beneath Sanders’ left eye meant he was probably curious as to why Jock had stopped mumbling to himself and instead occupied himself with eyeing Sanders like he was the only interesting thing in the room.
Which was.. Well, true to an extent. It’s not like Jock was interested in delving into childhood memories right now. And he supposed looking at Sanders wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
Sanders seemed to have been reading his mind or something because Jock was suddenly yanked back into reality when his partner tilted his head, his own way of managing a smile without having the (literal) nerves to do so. His stare, paired with the head tilt, seemed a little charged though, and that scared him. Charged with something he didn’t want to think about right now. Especially not in his childhood bedroom.
Jock quickly averted his eyes, heat building up at the back of his neck and slowly crawling up his face as he stared intensely at the clock to hide his rapidly flushing cheeks. He heard Sanders huff out of his nose but he pretended not to notice.
Just like how he pretended he wasn’t constantly hyper-aware of his coworker’s every quirk and unique mannerism. He’s been working with him for so long, being able to tell how Sanders was feeling in the moment based on a near invisible micro-gesture or the slightest change in his body language.. It was completely normal, right? Totally normal.
Besides, he was supposed to be mad at him. The situation wouldn’t have escalated as much as it did if Sanders actually listened to him for once and hadn’t interfered. But hey, it was well past midnight and he was way too exhausted to express even more frustration than he’d already done so when he discovered Sanders had been prying into his old diary.
Jock blinked away the dryness in his eyes. It was almost 1AM now. He startled slightly when the comfortable silence was interrupted with a slow creak behind him. Sanders must’ve been shifting in his bed. Maybe the sleep deprivation was making him jumpier than usual.
“I told you to stop staring at the clock.” Sanders’ voice was quiet, still endearingly monotone, but void of his usual snark.
There was even a noticeable rasp at the back of his throat, the kind that only makes itself known when your body is really due for some shut-eye.
Jock tried to ignore the steadily increasing panic behind the realisation that his mom really wasn’t going to give in, and that he and his long time partner in crime would need to spend the night cooped up in this stuffy room alone. Together. Until morning.
He had been silently praying for the past three hours that it wouldn’t come to this, but it appeared his pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Today was officially the most humiliating day of his life.
Feeling completely defeated, Jock sighed and rubbed his forehead to combat the oncoming migraine of today’s events.
“I’m too tired to deal with anymore of this today,” Jock grumbled, turning to face his coworker, “Are you okay with staying here tonight and confronting my mom in the morning?”
He looked up to gauge Sanders’ reaction but it looked as if he’d been eagerly waiting all night for Jock to finally give up.
“Sleepover!” he cheered, and suddenly for a reason God only knew, Sanders was now in his sleepwear and he’d tossed his work clothes across the room. Jock didn’t have time to gape before his partner dove under the covers, fluffed his pillow, and settled in with another series of rickety creaks.
“I call dibs on the bed. Goodnight.”
Jock stared at him, dumbfounded by the audacity. Whatever, he wasn’t in the mood to start another argument. His floor was comfy enough, he didn’t recall breaking any bones whenever he happened to fall out of bed in the middle of the night when he was a kid.
“Make yourself at home, I guess.” He mumbled to himself with a dejected sigh, shuffling his jacket off his shoulders as he kicked around a pile of his clothes on the floor. Maybe it was a good thing Sanders hadn’t yet cleaned up the mess he’d made earlier.
Despite that, he still felt like making a jab at his carelessness.
“I’ll just sleep in this pile of mess you made, I guess. Don’t worry about me..” Jock moved to undo his tie while he whined.
Sanders lifted his head to glare at him, “Stop complaining. You’re a terrible host.”
Jock gasped in mock offense, turning his nose to the ceiling as he continued to struggle with his tie, “Or maybe you’re just a terrible guest!”
Honestly, their odd relationship was getting to the point where the petty remarks firing back and forth between them was simply.. fun. Jock supposed if the two had a love language, it would be that. A familiar warm feeling bloomed in his chest when he opened one eye to see Sanders giving him a look. One of those rare soft looks where his eyes shimmered with some incomprehensible emotion. Jock didn’t quite understand that one, but he understood quite well that he loved it when Sanders looked at him like that.
“That can’t possibly be true,” He retaliated. And to add fuel to the raging fire of Jock’s confusing feelings for his coworker, Sanders nonchalantly added, “Are you just slandering me cause you want the bed? I don’t mind sharing with you, you know.”
Jock froze, hands still on his tie, gawking at Sanders as he patted the free space on the mattress next to him. His stare was so blank it was impossible to read him this time, the complete opposite of Jock who was currently studying every inch of his coworker’s face with widened eyes and a gaping mouth. Studying him for any sign that this was a prank.
He had to be pranking him. Of course he was. Jock was no stranger to Sanders’ cruel jokes, this was clearly one of them. There was no possible timeline where accepting such a bizarre offer would be a good idea. Surely if he did, Sanders would revoke the offer in an instant and tease him for being so desperate.
Except apparently his mouth had a mind of its own, and before he knew it, words were spilling out before his brain had the time to catch up.
“Uh– Okay?” Jock blurted out with a raised eyebrow, “Are you sure?”
Sanders seemed to consider the size of the bed for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek. Meanwhile Jock was mentally cursing himself over and over, praying that Sanders was either about to change his mind, or that the offer really was an elaborate prank Sanders was keen on dragging out.
But not even a second later, Sanders met his gaze again and nodded with complete certainty. “Yes. I really don’t mind.”
“Okay.”
Don’t panic. It’s still a prank right? Totally.
Jock took a deep breath and inched towards him carefully, silently freaking out. It was as if he was encountering a wild animal and suspecting it would pounce on him at any second. He’d given up on the tie but much to his amusement, Sanders was eyeing it, and once he’d gotten close enough he snagged it with one hand to untie it himself. Jock yelped at the sudden force and the close proximity, sweat building at his temple as he gulped.
When he was done, Sanders released him along with the tie and shuffled towards the wall next to the bed to make more room for his new roommate. The exchange had been silent save for the tiny “Thank you” from Jock after he’d helped him out. Both parties were too nervous to utter a word. Jock discarded his tie and sat down on the very edge of the bed so he could slip his shoes off, trying very hard to pay no mind to his coworker staring at his back hard enough to burn holes right through him.
Even with his back turned he could hear the sound of fabric scratching together, indicating that Sanders was probably fidgeting with the sheets or something. That was the first red flag that fed Jock’s suspicion that the usually calm and collected man was just as nervous about this as he was.
Jock glanced over his shoulder, watching him curiously. Sanders’ arms were folded over his torso, his body pressed as far against the wall as physically possible. And confirming his suspicions, his fingers were indeed busy fidgeting with the blanket. Jock reached up to scratch the back of his neck.
“You know we don’t have to share if you’re getting all riled up about it. The floor is fine,” Jock couldn’t suppress the small tease, but his words still held sincerity.
“Lay down.” Sanders responded, voice stern but laced with exhaustion.
This surprised Jock a little, and his tone of voice stirred an odd feeling deep in his gut. Gosh he needed to get it together, he could already feel his face reddening again.
Jock followed the order without a question, moving to lay down on his back to match Sanders’ position. Though due to the size of the bed, their shoulders were pressed together firmly.
“You’re warm.” Sanders remarked.
Ah. He didn’t quite know how to respond to that. He couldn’t just tell him that it was his fault his body temperature had risen, even worse than that, the culprit being the sound of his voice. Sanders would never let him live it down. Ever.
“It’s probably the lamp,” Jock brushed the comment off and leaned over to his bedside table to switch it off. The two were plunged in darkness and silence, save for the faint sound of night animals outside the window and the pale moonlight.
He decided that being pressed against his coworker was probably making his body temperature even hotter, so he carefully moved to lay on his side, one hand cupped at the side of his face to cushion it and the other one laying idly a hair’s width from Sanders’ elbow. Jock was also trying extremely hard to ignore the fact that if he even moved an inch, his knees would brush against Sanders’ legs.
It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but once they did, he wasted no time staring directly at what he could see of his partner’s stone-still face.
His eyes were still open, that’s for sure. He could see them clearly from where he was positioned. They were using the same pillow, so naturally their heads ended up being closer than either of them would’ve liked. (To be clear, it wasn’t like either of them were actually complaining about that).
Now Jock was laying there wondering why Sanders was still awake. He was tired as well, sure, but his exhaustion was overridden by his curiosity. And there was also the fact that the two of them were rarely given quiet moments like these to just relax and enjoy each other’s presence. He wasn’t sure if Sanders appreciated these moments too, or even appreciated Jock as a whole, but one could point out that he willingly offered to share an intimate space with him.
So yes, maybe both of them were mutually enjoying the moment. Can you blame them?
Jock refused to avert his gaze, waiting for something, anything. But Sanders remained unmoving save for his rhythmic breathing, blinking and quiet fidgeting. Finally, Jock sighed and gently poked Sanders’ upper arm through the fabric of his shirt sleeve.
“I thought you wanted to sleep,” said Jock.
It was so quiet his ears could pick up the faint smack of his coworker’s lips separating and the soft inhale as if he was about to say something. But the silence continued. Jock watched him, intrigued by Sanders’ hesitance to spit out whatever was on his mind, until suddenly his fidgeting stopped and he slid his left hand up towards where his heart would be in his chest. Sanders clutched the material of his shirt tightly, indeed right over his heart. Jock raised an eyebrow.
“I did, but now my heart won’t rest,” he replied so quietly it could pass as a whisper.
It took a moment for Jock to process what his coworker just admitted, but when he did, his mind was doing all sorts of gymnastics trying to figure out just what the hell that meant.
“Your.. heart?” Jock murmured, uncertain.
Sanders nodded, though it was so quick Jock could’ve blinked and assumed his head briefly twitched.
“How so?” He added, genuinely curious what this cryptic man could be talking about and to confirm whether or not he was actually hallucinating this entire situation.
Although it didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together, there was something nagging at the back of Jock’s mind, warning him that he was completely misinterpreting his words and that if he got his hopes up, he would make a massive fool out of himself. So the logical part of Jock’s mind wanted some sort of confirmation that this, whatever was happening right here right now, is what he thought it was.
“It’s just..” Sanders trailed off, voice unsure and wavering. “Loud. I’m not sure how to settle it.”
Jock chewed on his lower lip with furrowed brows, deciding if he was brave enough to make the most stupid yet disgustingly bold decision he’d ever make. Slowly, he took his free hand and reached up and across Sanders’ chest, fingers brushing against his as he nudged Sanders’ hand away gently. His coworker startled at the sudden contact, quickly retracting his hand just a little to make room for Jock’s. Why he even did that would remain a mystery forever.
Sanders seemed to hold his breath as Jock’s hand carefully pressed over his heart, assumingly feeling his heartbeat. A beat later, Jock let out an airy giggle.
“Huh. So it is,” he whispered.
“You’re making it worse,” Sanders bit out between clenched teeth.
“So I am,” Jock grinned cheekily, not making any effort to move his hand away.
Cautiously, Sanders moved his hand back to where Jock was touching him, and placed his palm over his. This seemed to surprise Jock quite a lot as he looked up at him with wide eyes, before returning the bold move by slowly interlocking their fingers over Sanders’ chest.
Jock kept his eyes on Sanders’ watching for just the slightest change in his body language that would suggest that this wasn’t okay. But to his relief, Sanders practically melted into it and was doing everything in his power to avoid meeting his eyes. And if it wasn’t a trick of the light, Jock was almost certain Sanders was blushing.
Whatever the hell was happening right now, neither of them seemed to mind. Not one bit. In fact Jock took this as the green light to inch just a tad closer to him so that he fit neatly against Sanders’ side. And if Sanders was against that, he made zero effort to make it known.
“You’re so warm,” Jock tried to bite back a teasing grin.
Sanders turned his head slightly so that their noses were almost brushing, glaring at him with what one could call mock annoyance. But instead of pushing him away, Sanders squeezed his hand gently and pulled himself impossibly closer.
“And you are insufferable.” Sanders shot back.
Jock made a pointed look at their intertwined fingers and then rolled his eyes, “Sure. Whatever you say.”
Since they were already practically cuddled up, Jock thought it appropriate to crane his neck down and use Sanders’ shoulder as a pillow. It wouldn’t hurt to get the most out of this weird but comforting moment between the two of them. And to his relief, Sanders showed no sign of protest, tilting his head ever so slightly in response so that it would rest on top of Jock’s head.
“Goodnight.” Sanders mumbled, but it seemed that Jock had already fallen fast asleep, ever the heavy sleeper.
It would take a while for Sanders’ heart to calm down enough to allow him to fall asleep too, but he was starting to think an extra hour of consciousness wasn’t all that bad. He was surprisingly very comfortable, and he enjoyed how soothing it was to listen to Jock breathing just below him.
(And though reluctant to admit it, he smelled really, weirdly nice).
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When the two of them greeted Jock’s mom the next morning, she was acting strange. Just yesterday she was so adamant on refusing to pay her taxes, and now all of a sudden she’d dropped her coin purse in Jock’s palm and waved him off without a fuss. She was even looking at Sanders funny, so much so that Sanders himself even noticed, when usually the man is as oblivious as a rock.
The two shared a confused sideways glance as they sat at the dining table, Jock’s unusually jovial mother serving them both a plate of scrambled eggs and orange juice. He never mentioned it though, the woman was rarely seen in a good mood so he didn’t want to be the one to trample on that.
Plus, they’d completed their job! They would just need to explain to Mr.Boss why they’d been M.I.A from the office for the past eighteen hours. No biggie.
After the generous breakfast, Jock and Sanders gathered their bearings and got ready to leave, ready to ride the high of a successful mission. It was only when Jock’s mom walked them out to the front entrance that things took a turn for the weird.
Jock leaned down to hug his mother and thank her for her time, and she made him promise to come back to visit.
“The purple fellow is welcome too, of course,” Mrs. Picnicle waved at Sanders over Jock’s shoulder before grinning at him slyly and making no effort to lower her voice as she chastised her son, “Honestly boy, if I had known he was your boyfriend, I would’ve left the door open.”
Jock choked on air.
“Mom!?”
It’s safe to say the trip back to the office was spent in mortifying silence.