The first thing Samuel Wesson did when he became head of Human Resources was fire the two next in line for his job and hire two others. Which wasn't so big of a deal, when one looked at the entire picture of things. But as Ash swiveled in his cubicle chair chewing on a toothpick, he decided that he could definitely see what was going on here.
It had started only a few weeks ago. Sam had just entered the HR division of the GRE Corp. (Green Resource Economy- Where we make life better for all of us!) Mostly it was answering phones and reassuring panicked customers that what they were selling was entirely safe, if handled the correct way and kept out of the reach of children.
Sam had gotten the cubicle right across from Ash's, so it wasn't a big surprise that they became friends almost right away. Ash snuck in all sorts of alcoholic drinks, and where he usually kept them to himself, he started bringing extra so he could share with Sam on lunch break. Well, Sam's lunch break. Ash didn't really work anyways.
Halfway through Sam's second week, things got weird. Sam started acting strange, and he'd leave at odd times of the day and sometimes stay away for hours. Sometimes he'd miss lunch. Ash was starting to worry when he saw Sam packing the few personal things he had put into the small cubicle across the way from Ash's own.
"Dude- did you get fired?" Ash asked, astonished. Sam was one of the most hardworking people Ash knew.
"No. Actually, I got promoted. I'll… I'll see you around, Ash." And he was gone.
But it wasn't just the leaving, Ash thought, spinning himself around once more and bringing himself back to the present. It was how Sam began to get mad at absolutely nothing. How sometimes Ash thought he could see Sam's eyes flash yellow- but each time he decided it was just the shitty florescent lighting and his almost-constant headache; making him see things.
And then the rumors started. Everyone thought Human Resources was a bad place to get transferred, anyways, but it had never really been that bad. Until people were getting fired left and right- people who needed the measly pay to support whole families. Ash knew- he'd read most everyone's files whether the company knew it or not. And when Ash heard it was Sam doing it, he purposely called in sick the next day and drank his last stores of beer until he passed out.
He had to go out and buy more that weekend. Which was really saying something.
What he really hadn't been expecting came in the form of one Dean Smith- a man who seemed a little like Sam at first, but who really acted like Ash if you could push past his shell of secure defense. He took the cubicle across from Ash in Sam's place.
And now it was even worse- Sam had put monitors around, patrolling the spaces between cubicles to make sure everyone was on task, so now even Ash had to work. One of them, a particularly dislikable man called Crowley, especially enjoyed tormenting Dean and Ash- even if they really were doing their work.
Crowley wore black. Always. Black suit, black shoes, black tie, but a starch white button-down underneath. Ash knew. He didn't even have to look. The way he wore his suits told Ash that they were probably all he wore. It made him wonder what the man did to get dressed up.
Just days into this frightfully new set-up, Crowley came stalking down the isles with a clipboard in hand, spindly reading glasses perched upon his nose. He stared down through them like Ash thought an old librarian might and flipped through the pages on the clipboard with an increasing smirk that appeared permanent.
Just ten minutes ago, Ash didn't swivel to watch, but he saw Crowley abruptly turn and go into Dean's cubicle through a mirror he had set up right next to his computer monitor to check for such things. He couldn't catch what was said, but he saw Dean's ears flush deep red with embarrassment.
Dean actually followed Crowley out and into the hallway just outside of the huge room that held the masses of cubicles. He didn't come back that day. Ash wondered what was wrong and continued spinning until he was dizzy.
Little did Ash know, Dean had been summoned by one Mr. Wesson, head of Human Resources. Actually, this had been happening quite a lot, but Ash was out 'sick' too much to notice.
As soon as Dean stepped into Sam's office, which was actually quite large, Sam stood and dismissed his other assistant, Brady, whom he'd been talking to a moment before. Dean couldn't exactly say he liked Brady.
"Have fun." Brady smirked and winked as he left.
And that was why. Those snide little comments dropped here and there- Dean just didn't like it. It got under his skin like nothing else did and made him shiver and grimace.
The room was soon emptied of all but Sam and Dean, and then it was just them. Sam stared at Dean. Dean stared at Sam. It took a moment for either of them to move. Dean was shy, Sam bold, so when they tried to meet in the middle, it usually ended up with a wastepaper basket being overturned. Like now.
"Shit, I'm sorry." Dean cursed, trying to clean it up by himself. Sam knelt beside him and began helping before he could really say anything else.
"Hey, it's fine, don't worry about it." Dean couldn't help but catch the blinding smile that was sent to him. He also couldn't help the way his own lips tugged up in return.
Little known to anyone else, Dean had a slight… Thing for Sam. He knew it was wrong, on so many levels, but he couldn't bring himself to really care or regret it. But he did try to keep it a secret- there was a whole list of things that could go wrong. Between the time Dean had realized he felt the way he did and now, he could now recite them both chronologically and alphabetically.
A blush covered his cheeks when he stood up again, and he attempted willing it away as best he could and tried to hide it by looking down at his shoes. Dean suddenly found his brown loafers quite interesting.
"Dean? Hel-lo, earth to Dean Smith, do you read?" Sam waved a hand in front of his face, making Dean jump back in surprise.
"I'm sorry, what?" He asked, truly clueless as to what Sam had just been saying.
"I was wondering… You know what? Nevermind." Sam drew closer with a predatory look. Dean wasn't sure he liked how Sam was eyeing him.
Soon enough, they were chest-to-chest flush against each other, Sam's lips claiming Dean's, as Dean had only dreamed. Dating within the office and company was not permitted, but Samuel would probably manage to get away with it for some reason or another.
"You know, I have work to do." Dean murmured after they parted.
"Since when have you actually done your work?" Sam grinned, their foreheads touching.
"Mmn… That's true."