We're taking a break from Phichit's POV to follow Seung Gil on his evening after work. Who else will join us? Some friends, of course, now that SG is willing to admit he has some XD
With every tap at the keyboards, click of a mouse, I'm reminded once again that we're on deadline, racing the passing minutes that seem to be racing us in turn. I've been scanning columns of numbers for so long, the figures start to look foreign, like alien symbols with unknown values. Under my breath, I recite each number to ensure I still, in fact, understand what I'm looking at. I've already checked and checked and rechecked my math but another go around won't hurt; I can't exactly afford to make a mistake. I'm not sure when the last time I blinked was, but the constant movement of my eyes prevents them from feeling dry and itchy. Once everything is looked over, I save the files twice before uploading them to the company's shared drive. Rubbing my eyes, I wait for the little chime to alert me that the process is completed. It's awfully quiet in here, urgency occupying everyone's thoughts; all I can think about is the nonsense in front of my face. Every once in a while, one of my coworkers will sigh or mumble something incomprehensible to themselves; the silence largely remains, however. I lean back and sigh, drawing out the exhale with shut eyes. "Still gotta print." I remember, going back to the original documents and setting them up in the printer queue. Why is it so full? I don't know if I have time to wait: the clock is ticking away the minutes until the work day comes to a close. I turn, frowning. "O."
Slowly, Otabek pulls his attention from his computer screen. "Yeah?"
"You fill the printer queue?"
"No. What?" His eyes go wide, fully facing me with something akin to horror. I point at the message on my screen. "Shit. I still have to print."
I scoff, shaking my head. "Yeah, me, too."
Otabek looks over at our other coworkers. "Sara, you printing?"
She shakes her head. "No, not today."
Unless someone from the front end is printing every transaction ever made, there's only one person who could be clogging the only printer in the office. She's sitting right across from Sara, so there's no way our conversation could be out of earshot. "I know she can hear me." Otabek rolls his eyes, keeping his voice quiet before stepping towards our coworkers. "Anya." His voice is stern and rather low. This must be his annoyed voice. The woman stops twirling her dark hair long enough to look over at us, oblivious to the rest of life happening around her. She only blinks in response. "Are you printing a novel?" Otabek's question makes me laugh, but I keep that to myself.
"I have to review last year's spring sales. It's easier if I have hard copies." Anya shrugs.
"Is it crucial? Something due by the end of the day?" Otabek's trying to be polite, but I can tell he's nearing the end of his rope.
"Not really."
His shoulders fall at her response, rubbing his forehead. "Our stuff is. Can you pause it so we can use the printer before we have to get out of here?" I'm grateful he's asking her for this favor instead of me; I don't think I could be so nice or patient. That, and I simply don't care for Anya or her lack of compassion.
She taps one key and flips her hair over her shoulder. "Done."
Otabek thanks her while the message on my screen disappears. Finally, my print job has begun! I stand up, thrilled at the prospect of finishing earlier than planned. "Hot off the press!" I rush from the room and stand by the printer, tapping a rhythm on the dusty grey machine. Only one of my projects comes out of the machine before something else starts to print. Frowning, I find Otabek walking over. "You interrupted my printing."
He laughs, the bastard. "I have things to print, too, you know."
My documents are finished before his, but I wait for him. "Are we really going to finish early today?" I check the time on my phone, astonished at the way luck has turned around.
With a nod, he smirks and swipes his papers from the machine. "Finished."
"Finished?"
"Yes!" Otabek's hand meets mine in the air, a loud high-five marking the end of our pre-audit paperwork. "Let's leave." He suggests as we find our desks again.
I nod, knowing I have nowhere to be but would rather be anywhere but here. "Agreed."
"Wanna grab a drink?"
Today did not involve whiny music from the morning show on the radio. Work was grueling, though it wasn't difficult, but our deadline was put on us only a few days ago, causing our activities to be hurried and frantic. My brain is fried, but I'm not physically exhausted. Today also didn't involve my stomach growling from the moment I clocked in: boxes of donuts were waiting in the breakroom all morning and were replaced with pizzas when noon rolled around. I didn't have to spend a dime, and have been quite well fed; how could I not be in a decent mood? I nod, closing all the tabs on my monitor with one last check at their upload progress. "Actually, that sounds good." My computer's black screen looks like heaven to me.
Otabek pulls his phone out. "Cool. Want to invite Sara?" He gestures over his shoulders.
If we invite one of our coworkers, does that mean we have to invite the other? I step closer to him, using my most discreet voice: "If we invite her, do we have to invite Anya?" This is a serious question. Serious as a concussion. He laughs, though, almost dropping his phone.
"No, we don't have to. I got it. Gotta make a call first." Otabek waves me away, so I gather up my things and throw on a coat. He walks over to Sara before making his call.
There aren't any notifications I care about on my phone, but I need to get a hold of someone, too. Phichit volunteered to take Victor and Yuuri to the airport this evening, promising he'd be back in time to share a quick meal before he goes to work. I don't need his permission, or anything, to go out for a drink but he should know that plans may change with these new developments. A short text should do the trick: 'Hey, P. Going out for drinks with O and Sara. Should be a few hours but not all night.' I wait around for Otabek to finish his call to someone he refers to as Baby; at the same time, Sara finishes up her work and stands near us.
"Where are we headed?" She asks, swinging her purse by its long strap.
I shrug, honestly not sure. "Don't know. Probably the place by the pawn shop. That's where Otabek usually likes to go." I kick Otabek's shoe when he joins us. "How's Baby?"
"Busy making dinner." He smirks. "And Beautiful?"
"Doing well." I ignore the warmth in my face to play this dumb game so we can share a laugh at each other. Sara looks uncertain, but laughs anyway and I don't mind; she's a nice enough person, I suppose. Otabek offers his car, and drives us away from the office. On the way over, I check my newest message: Phichit's response. I don't read it until I see that we're going to the same bar we typically go to.
'Lucky! Airport is sooo boring w no ticket lol Want a ride later?'
I guess the other alternative is to have Otabek be my driver, but maybe I shouldn't put that duty on him. If Phichit picks me up, we'll definitely have time to hang out before he goes to work. It's a sensible idea that'll get me out of hanging out for too long if I suddenly hate it. 'Ha, you're so smart. Let me know when you're on your way. Same bar as before.'
'Lol kk, will do :D'
Walking through the door, the typical chorus of the jukebox blends with stray bits of conversation and laughter. A small group is at the counter, another at a table off to the side; it's still early in the evening, but later, few seats will remain. The bartender waves at us before we've reached his territory at the bar, an easy smile greeting us. "Hey, you two." His eyes shift to Sara, nodding her presence. "A new face? That's a surprise." He laughs.
"Leo, you met Sara." Otabek says while taking a seat. "You were both at my party."
Sara sits to my left, leaving me the spot between her and Otabek. Leo hums, wiping at a spot on the countertop that looks sticky. "Really? Well, good to see you again, then." He shrugs with an amusing smile; I don't know him well enough to tell if he's embarrassed or being shy, but it's funny. When he asks for our order, we get a round of beers. "How have you all been?" Leo asks as he tidies up the area we can't see.
"These two all but ran out of the office." Sara laughs.
"Don't they always?" Leo smirks.
Otabek waves his hand, a grave look on his face. "You don't understand. We got this deadline slammed on us at the last minute, and worked our asses off until the clock ran out." He gestures at me. "We deserve a few beers."
"Tasting really good right now." I admit. I'm not sure why, but it's like water in the desert. Perhaps I'm just thirsty.
Leo smiles again. "Plenty more where that came from."
One thing I've learned about this bartender is that nothing seems to get him down. He's broken up arguments, calmed displeased customers, shrugged off flirting attempts and talked people through issues; all of this while never letting his smile leave for more than a few seconds. I used to wonder how some people could be so positive, and it actually still bothers me a little when nothing rattles certain folks. Life isn't always sunshine and it makes no sense to pretend otherwise. Since dating Phichit, though, I've come to understand that people like him and Leo handle life and its obstacles differently from the way I do. It's not bad. Sometimes it's blinding, but it's not bad. I finish my beer and ask for another. "Thanks." I nod and chug away.
"You two did work really hard." Sara nods. "I've never known people to focus and stuff on the job like you do." She doesn't say she's comparing us to anybody in particular, but it feels like she is. Maybe Anya, or maybe someone else from her past? Who knows.
"What else were we gonna do?" Otabek chuckles. "We had a deadline."
"And it's just doing our jobs." I shrug, taking another long gulp. "We get paid to do it, so might as well do it right." That, and I hate making mistakes. If I look bad at work, my livelihood is on the line; why would I slack off?
Sara shrugs. "Yeah, I guess, but I'm not used to that." She sips from her bottle, still the first one. "At my last job, everyone goofed around. It was fun, but it never felt like anything got done." Her laugh is light, like she's recalling a pleasant memory. It's somewhat of a pleasant sound, not abrasive or annoying. Her girlfriend probably loves it; I know I love Phichit's laugh.
"Where'd you work?" Leo asks, looking intrigued at such a simple topic.
No offense to Sara, but I'm more interested in getting to the bottom of my beer than thinking about past jobs. If I were to talk about where I've worked, I'm sure they'd fall asleep. While working on my degree, I picked up some hours at the student store, stocking textbooks and shit. I'll be the first to admit it was boring as hell, but I didn't have to interact with others much and it was rather simple. I guess I haven't moved on a great deal: I still remain fairly silent and don't see much action on the job, but the pay is much better and I somehow enjoy sitting at a computer more than walking around a store. Sara's still talking, mentioning something about a record store, when I feel an elbow at my arm. "You trying to get drunk?" Otabek asks.
Well, of course not, but I can't help it if this beer tastes good. I shake my head slowly in case the room starts to spin. "No, it's just good." His expression doesn't change, so I don't think he's convinced. "I'm just glad to be off the clock." Maybe that damn deadline was more stressful than I realized. Also, this bottle is emptier than I realized.
"Maybe some water." Otabek tells Leo, like if I'm not here or some kind of kid.
"O, I don't need babysitting." I roll my eyes. He's a friend, yes, but that doesn't make him obligated to watch my alcohol intake. Why does he care? Since when does Otabek care so much about me? From what I've gathered, he doesn't care all that much about most things; his husband, eating twice at work, taking his motorcycle out. Am I on that list? Perhaps it's a privilege to have Otabek's concern. I grab his arm, giving it a squeeze. "But thank you for looking out for me."
He smiles, eventually patting my hand still gripping him. "No problem. Make sure you finish it before getting another beer."
"Why?"
"Because it's not even six and you're acting a little buzzed."
That's where he's wrong: I'm not acting. Leo hands me a glass of water, slipping a coaster underneath. "Thank you. I'll drink this because I'm really fucking thirsty." Sitting at a desk all day doesn't give me much of an opportunity to stay hydrated.
"Do you drink often, Seung Gil?" Sara asks, resting her chin in her hand. When I saw her with her girlfriend, I thought they made a striking couple. I wonder how they met.
I shake my head, turning to her. "No, not really. How did you meet your girlfriend?"
She smiles and I ignore Otabek's snickering behind me. "Years ago, I was still at my old job, taking pictures of an album display." Right: record store. "A customer walked in, this pretty redhead, and I wanted to talk to her. I didn't know how to start a conversation without being creepy, so I asked of she wanted to be in some of the pictures I'd be posting."
"That's not creepy?"
Now Otabek laughs, not holding back. Sara smacks my arm, but she's still smiling. "No, you dick! I was being cute. And, anyway, she agreed and gave me her number so I could send the pictures and we got to talking and became friends." With water comes some sensibility; my face still feels warm and the room is still shaky, but I can't remember why I asked such a personal question. I nod in thought, thinking it over, when Leo leans over.
"Do you know how Otabek met his husband?" He grins.
"Should I?" I ask, holding onto the bar for stability while turning around again.
"I want to hear it!" Sara laughs.
Otabek shakes his head. "It's not really interesting."
Leo rolls his eyes. "Of course it is. Go on."
"Fine." Otabek takes a swig before continuing, which leads me to believe this story is far more interesting than he's admitting. "Six years ago, I was at my sister's birthday party, kind of like a chaperone." I think he was twenty then? My math isn't great right now. "She just really wanted to take her friends to the roller rink, and someone had to make sure they stayed out of trouble. That duty fell to me, of course, so I stood around and tried not to die of boredom." I haven't been roller skating before, but it doesn't seem particularly fun. Otabek must've been at least balls-deep in restlessness. "The DJ was playing some really awful songs, and it started to get on my nerves. And I mean really awful, preteen pop crap. The kind of stuff you like." He elbows me with a smirk, and I roll my eyes. Since my water's gone, I'm free to get more beer without flack; Leo obliges me. "I went over to the DJ booth to complain. I had some slick insult ready for him, but the punk immediately started screaming at me to get my skates off his floor."
An abrupt laugh escapes my mouth before I can cover it. "You were wearing skates?!"
The others are laughing a bit, too, but nobody seems quite as entertained by Otabek's story as I am. I can't imagine him wearing roller skates, especially if he was just a chaperone; the mental image is just too funny. "Yeah? I was at a skating rink." O shrugs and continues over my residual laughter. "Anyway, the kid yelled at me, but I didn't leave. I told him his taste in music needed improvement, and he told me to mind my own fucking business."
"And you didn't, did you?" Sara predicts.
Otabek shakes his head. "No, I thought it was funny how worked up he got. So I gave him some suggestions, and he said he'd only listen to what I had to say if I did something cool on skates."
"Something cool?" Leo repeats.
"Yeah, like, a trick."
Is this story going where I think it is? "You do not know any skating tricks." I accidentally slam my bottle, patting the counter in apology. "I didn't even know you knew how to skate." I scoff.
"His face when I stepped out on the rink." He pauses to smile, like reliving the memory in secret. "I don't think he expected me to actually go through with it, and I'm not sure why I did, but it was priceless. My sister was so embarrassed, she wouldn't even look at me the rest of the night." Having a little sister like that would probably get on my nerves; Otabek seems amused by it, though. "When I went back to the DJ, he told me he could only play what was appropriate for the event, which didn't include my suggestions."
Sara laughs at this, tapping the counter. "You skated for nothing!"
"I got to meet the DJ." Otabek smirks. "And now he's waiting at home for me."
Unfortunately, that story is cute and reminds me of how un-cute meeting Phichit was, me being drunk and cranky over the phone. If I could do it over again, I'd call his show, sober, and tell him how generous he is to share his expertise with strangers and how thoughtful he is to help people he'll never meet. I'd ask him for his personal number so I could learn more about who he is right from the start. Every day and every night, I'd get to know him until asking him on a proper date where we'd met in person. It'd be a sweeter tale to tell our friends, that's for damn sure. Things are working out now, so I guess it's fine, but still: our how-we-met story isn't flattering. "Do you wish you could change it?" I ask Otabek. Not on purpose; it just kinda slips out, but he thinks it over just the same.
"No." He shakes his head.
For whatever reason, I like this answer and drop the topic entirely. The bar becomes busier, livelier, with the after-work crowd settled in. Leo has to move along the counter to serve the newcomers, exiting our conversations every few minutes to do his job. Our talk moves on to how embarrassing Sara's brother can be to how Leo decided to be a bartender. I also learn that Sara was considering moving before getting together with Mila and that Otabek has never seen a shooting star. Some comments make me laugh, some make me cringe. I prefer to stay away from sharing too much with these fine folks, enjoying what they have to say more than hearing my own voice. At some point, I'm apparently acting too tipsy for Otabek's liking again, so he cuts me off and keeps the water coming. I somehow find it appropriate to thank him with a kiss on the cheek, which he responds to by squeezing my shoulder with a smile. Phichit sends a text that I read as 'Done here at 5' but upon closer inspection actually says 'Done! There in 5' and I laugh at my mistake. "I can't read." It soon becomes evident that I can't text, either; my phone can't even figure out what I'm trying to say at this point, so I send a single letter in affirmation.
"Is Phichit on his way?" Sara asks.
I almost fall off my bar stool when I turn to look at her. "Yeah, he'll be here soon." I didn't realize her eyes were such an unusual shade of violet before. I blink, making sure the color isn't an illusion of light or the angle. "Your eyes are a pretty color." I'm only being honest, but this makes her blush a dark shade, eyes darting to the side.
"Oh, um…thank you."
"Are you okay?" Shit, she's acting weird all of a sudden. Otabek laughs, but I don't turn to look at him; I don't want to fall on the floor.
"She thinks you're hot." Otabek blurts.
"I have a girlfriend!"
"So? You can still think he's hot."
I'm not sure what the hell they're going on about. I try to piece together the words to make sense of it, but someone walking towards us catches my eye. The man strides with confidence, long legs wrapped in pale blue denim. Even with all the noise buzzing around me, his black boots make a slight squeak against the wood flooring, wet from the outside weather. His puffy jacket is unzipped, hands in his pockets. The burnt orange hue frames his dark grey jumper, snug against his torso with thin reddish stripes breaking up the deep shade. His hat is a similar shade of grey, but he takes it off to ruffle his shiny black hair. A sly smile plays on his lips in a shade of deep pink that couldn't be more inviting. He's looking right at me, eyes locked on mine with a playful glint that hypnotizes me to keep staring. Plain and simple, the man is stunning. "Evening, Mr. Lee." His velvet voice cuts through everything around us, the chatter and laughter and music fading to nothing. "Wanna come home with me?" Like a fool, all I can do is nod; I'd probably do anything he asked me to right now. He says something to Otabek but I miss it: I'm too focused on the way his smile brightens the room, stopping my heart for a beat or two. Without another word, he offers his hand to me. I thread my fingers in his, following him through the crowded bar and out into the cold. His car is still warm inside, like he had the heater on for a long time. I think maybe the seat has its own heater, too, because it feels like a hug all around me once I buckle in. "You're being quiet." He mutters under his breath. "You looked like you were having a good time, but I don't want to assume anything, especially since you don't drink unless you're sad." I was having a good time, but what could be better than being taken home by a gorgeous individual with impeccable taste in cologne? Friends are cool, but I knew I couldn't stay out all night with them: that'd be way too tiring.
"Work sucked ass, but I did have fun at the bar." I nod, leaning over to rest my head on his. "But I can't be social the entire night. Too tired."
He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, at least you enjoyed yourself. I think you're heading in the right direction." While he drives, I can't resist kissing his cheek, his chin, his neck until he swats me away with a laugh. "I'm trying to drive, you know." I don't see what that's got to do with anything, but I pause on the kisses and leave my head on his arm anyway; he's comfy.
When the car stops, I peer out the window only to find we're not at my building. "This isn't mine."
He shakes his head with a smile and helps me out of the car; his shoulder is supporting a lot of my weight for some reason. "No, it's my place. I hope that's okay." I silently agree and drag my feet across the parking lot and stumble up a staircase. Since when did stairs become so problematic? He doesn't seem to be having any issues with them, but I'm thinking he's probably used to walking these steps since he has a key to the apartment and all. He takes my coat and helps me out of my shoes, but only after I shut the door. "Otabek says you drank too much, but he didn't sound all that sober to me, either." A little laugh lightens his tone. "Let's get you to bed." I don't really want to go to bed, but he tugs my arm and leaves me no option but to follow him. His bedroom smells nice, like cinnamon and honey. It reminds me of late nights and jazz, but also of sleepy morning kisses and nails across my back. Now that I'm under the covers, all I want is for him to join me. He shakes his head when I try to pull him over. "I can't stay."
"But you're hot."
"I have to go to work." He sighs. "I'll be back before you know it."
I'm not sure if I believe that or not. What I am sure of is that I'd like to taste those lips of his before he leaves; at least I'll have that memory in case he doesn't come back soon. Without warning, I yank him to me in a terrible kiss that may have bruised us both. "Sorry." I mumble against his mouth. I think I've lied to him: I'm not sorry. "You taste good." I inform him after he pulls back. He rolls his eyes, even though I'm serious.
"Say that when you're sober. I'll be back, okay?" He tucks the blankets around me, setting something up on the nightstand. My eyes start to droop, the warmth enveloping me in a safe embrace. "Sleep well." He turns the lamp off, somehow knowing it's one of the few things keeping me awake. How he knew I was sleepy is beyond me, but I'm grateful.
"You, too, Phichit."
The next time I open my eyes, the room is no longer dark. It's almost too bright, and I squint with an annoyed groan. I'm not in my own bed, my own room, but I recognize my surroundings like if they're mine: desk and mirror lined with cosmetics and hair products, closet so full the door remains cracked open, bronze ottoman with jewel toned upholstery, framed photos of people I don't know in Thailand. I've been spending more and more time here lately that the lack of my own things around nearly makes me frown. Upon an attempt to sit up, my head throbs with enough force to make me lie back down with a louder groan this time. "Babe?" A hand presses against my shoulder, gentle but present. "Take it easy today." The bed shifts under the loss of his weight before he helps me sit up a bit. "Drink some."
A plastic bottle is pushed to my hand along with a couple vitamins. I don't bother asking why the chalky supplements: we've both been down this road before, so I don't need to ask. "Thanks." At least I'm not sick in my stomach: that means I didn't drink far too much. My eyes finally adjust to the sunlight peeking through the curtains. I set the bottle back down and take in the sight of Phichit, clothes wrinkled and hair tousled from sleep. "Phichit?"
"Yeah?" He climbs over me to get back under the covers, close enough that our arms brush but not close enough for my liking. I curl against him, sighing when he snuggles back. "What's up?"
Even first thing waking up, he's in a good mood. He isn't afraid of the unexpected, doesn't shy away from new things; Phichit is gloriously unlike me. I don't remember what I was going to say, but a new thought has entered my mind. "You're my favorite person."
"Aww, Seung Gil." Phichit kisses my cheek. "You're mine, too."
The warmth that little kiss fills me with is ridiculous, but I don't care; I get to spend my day with the nicest person I've ever met. My head may hurt and I may feel sleep deprived, but in Phichit's arms, I'm doing pretty well.
He wasn't super drunk, but not really sober? Also, vitamins really do help when one has been drinking. A lot of peeps just think water and aspirin, but refueling is a must. Be responsible, readers XD I was in need of fluff, so I had to make the end nice and sweet hahha Take care, y'all!
