A/N: I'm so, so sorry! It's been, what, a little over a year? For all of those still sticking by this story and I, thank you so much! I apologise profusely for my disappearance, and I'll try my hardest to make sure it doesn't happen again. I probably won't be able to do weekly updates, but I can certainly try for fortnight ones. Gomen for this super short update, I'll try to aim for 3k+ next time!
Disclaimer: The Friends With Benefits movie is property of Castle Rock Entertainment Productions, and the idea doesn't belong to me.
Don't breathe too deep
Don't think all day
Gathered around him was every employee on that floor, and Gray couldn't help but feel a niggling of anxiety. "So, all I ask is that you give me a little bit of time to gain your trust." Taking his right hand out of his pant pocket, he started gesturing openly towards the crowd. "I know that I'm new at this, but what I lack in experience I make up for in cliches." An appreciative laugh ran around the crowd, and Gray started to relax.
"So, my door is always open." Another laugh came from his colleagues, and Gray walked straight into his office, through the doorway that was quite conspicuously lacking a door. "But seriously, my door is always open." He walked out again, this time staggering a little under the weight of the wooden door he was carrying outside. Propping it up against the side of his office, he turned back towards his co-workers the subtlest hint of a grin on his face. "My first order of business: lighter doors." They laughed again, and then the crowd started to dissipate, each individual heading back to their own cubicle.
"Okay. Thanks guys." Placing his hands back into his pockets, it wasn't long before Gray heard the sound of a man's gruff voice. Turning around, he was faced with a spry, but aged and weathered man.
"Hey, man. Makarov Dreyar, sports editor."
As Gray shook hands with this dwarf of a man, he made sure to keep his tone respectful. "Makarov, I've read your articles. Love your writing." After all, he reminded himself, it's only smart to have people you can count on around here.
"Just trying to keep it realsies - listen, I'd love to take you out one night and troll for cock."
He'd heard rumours about this Makarov; nothing terribly bad of course, but he had heard that this brilliant and somewhat satirical writer could be a bit ... weird in the head. Gray certainly hadn't expected that sort of reception, though, and his confusion was evident.
"What?"
Either because he hadn't really heard Gray, or because he didn't care, Makarov went about explaining his proposition.
"You got some pretty boys out there in L.A., but the quality in this town is ri-dic-ulous. We can tear this shit up."
Still mildly confused as to how he managed to get into this situation, Gray shook his head, a bemused smile in place. "I'm not gay, Makarov."
Slightly taken aback by this stunning revelation, Makarov leaned forwards, his brow furrowed. "Really? I just assumed, art director, and you know..." His hands stroked the sides of Gray's face, prompting Gray to lean his head backwards in order to stop what he was pretty sure counted as sexual assault. "Hey. No skin, more pipe for me." Makarov stretched his arms out wide, as if to indicate just how much more 'pipe' he was getting. "By the way, doing a piece on racism in hockey. Love to get your concepts on the font. I'm thinking Helvetica, but I could be persuaded to Courier New." Makarov nodded his head, feigning knowledge of font formatting and design. (A/N: Sorry, I simply couldn't resist adding in something here: Helvetica is nothing like Courier New. Makarov is definitely right with what he says next...) "But what the fuck do I know? I'm just the sports editor." Chuckling in a very self-deprecating manner while shaking his head, Makarov drummed on Gray's chest with his hands before walking away.
Obsidian eyes followed the strange little man before turning towards Gray's office, and as he was about to go back, he was interrupted yet again.
"You sure you're not gay?"
"Yep. I'm sure."
He replied in a high-pitched tone, "Ah, okay." Throwing his hands up into the air in surrender, Makarov walked away, for what was, Gray hoped, the last time.
Muttering softly to himself, almost as if mouthing it, Gray looked down at the floor for several moments, bewildered. "All right."
In front of him was a sleek, black TV screen, displaying a colourful mockup of the GQ magazine cover.
"Hey."
Not even turning around, Gray returned the sentiment. "Hey."
In walked Lucy, a stack of papers carried in her left arm and a bag slung over her right shoulder. "I'd knock, but you don't have a door." She pointed at the door frame, her brows knitting together in a display of puzzlement.
Glancing over at her, and then the open space, Gray replied smoothly with, "I don't."
"Mm- no." Her ponytail whipped the side of her face as she quickly turned to look back at the opening.
"Hey, check this out." With the click of a button, Gray called up Internet Explorer (A/N: Why, Gray, why?), the first tab displaying a video: Top 10 Fetishes, on the extremely classy and sophisticated ' ' site. The video started playing, and a sensual voice saying the site's name blasted out from the speakers as a pretty, topless brunette picked up a red mixing bowl full of batter and placed it against her chest. Lemon yellow dripped down her apron, causing quite the mess.
"Yeah, it really does exist." Lucy quirked a blonde brow at Gray, wondering if he had been watching it during work.
Then, he switched to another window containing a Youtube video. "I told you, but not that. This."
Upbeat music played as multitudes of people stepped from side to side, their arms up in the air. It was a cheery dance of some sort, as far as Lucy could tell.
"Awesome!"
"But it'd be even more awesome if this happened." With yet another click of a button, Gray switched over to Windows Media Player, where a video clip had been prepared. This time, it seemed like the same group, just zoomed out so more people appeared in the frame. "Wait for it."
The silhouette of 'GQ' appeared underneath the dancers - or, well, actors really - as the people formed the company's logo.
"Nice!" Lucy's voice was even brighter now, a touch of her traditional bubbliness in it. Despite all the cynicism she'd gathered along the way to this position, she was still the same sentimental Heartfilia.
Interlocking red and blue 'GQ' letters appeared on screen, with a red 'com' following closely behind. Adjusting his pants, Gray explained how this video had come to be. "I got in touch with a guy who puts flashmobs together. We're thinking of using them for guerilla advertising."
Twirling her ballpoint pen, Lucy's eyes slid over to the monitor again. "Taking something so pure and commercialising it?" As Gray swivelled towards her, the blonde simply gave him a little smile for reassurance. "Knew I found the right guy."
Flashing her a quick, broad smile, he placed his hands on his hips. "Here I am."
Smiling back at him, Lucy placed her papers and pen down. "Okay, here's your contract. Sign it, and I will be out of here." She sat down, and Gray followed.
"Okay." Turning the papers towards him, he briefly scanned the text. "A whole year? Oomph." Gray looked at Lucy at the side of his eyes, a furtive shake of his head indicating his thoughts on the contract.
"Why do I get the feeling this is the first real commitment you've ever made?" Hazel eyes flicked up, gazing towards Gray, an almost exasperated expression conveying all he had to know.
"It's not." He shook his head, then held up two fingers while simultaneously grasping the pen. "T-mobile, two years. And fuck, do I regret that one."
As Gray started to turn the pages again, Lucy placed her hand out, as if that could stop Gray from being so reluctant. "Do me a favour. Don't quit or get fired before the year's up, because otherwise I don't get my bonus." Leaning into the chair, she placed her hands back together.
A measure of tentative curiosity crept into Gray's voice. "Wait, I can leave whenever I want? What's the point of this contract?"
"Just sign the damn thing." Lucy's brows were furrowed again as she motioned towards the pile.
"Okay." Finding the signature line, which had been so thoughtfully pointed out by a yellow sticky 'Sign here!' marker, most likely put there by Lucy, Gray did as she'd asked.
"Nice doing business with you, Gray Fullbuster." She shook hands with the brunet, eyes narrowing for a second. Picking the papers up, she turned to leave.
"Hey, I was thinking of getting some lunch. Do you know a place?"
Lucy shifted from one foot to another, an expression of almost indignant bafflement clear on her face. "Are you asking me out?"
Backtracking, Gray shook his head slightly, brow furrowed. "Whoa, I'm not asking you out. I'm asking you to show me a resturaunt."
Pointing at herself, Lucy elaborated on her surprise a bit more. "I mean, I'm the only friend you have in New York. You don't want to complicate that."
"I know, I'm not asking you out." Suppressing a desire to run his hands through his hair in exasperation, Gray raised his eyebrows in a show of open sincerity.
But just like Makarov, Lucy didn't seem to be listening or paying attention to whatever Gray said. "I mean sure, we'd have fun, roll around, get into some erotic humiliation fantasy-" She started gesturing a little bit, her body language becoming flamboyant.
"Erotic?" Now Gray was confused and not a little bit, well, apprehensive of exactly what he'd gotten into with one simple request.
"But it'd all blow up in our faces, end badly, and we'd never speak to each other ever again." She got more and more frantic, her eyes wide, accompanied with violent shakes of the head.
"No no no- stop- I, I, I'm not fucking asking you out! I swear to God!" Gray finally managed to exclaim, hoping that this would clear things up.
"Okay. You don't like me like that." Lucy's eyes darted to some unseen corner, her look becoming melancholic. "You don't have to be so mean about it." A tremor in her voice caused Gray to stare at the blonde with disbelief. What was it, exactly, that had ever given her the impression that he'd been asking her out? And since when had this escalated so quickly and to such an extent?
Directing her gaze towards the floor, Lucy pouted.
"I'm sorry, I didn't..." Gray was at a loss for words, as he scrambled to explain himself and hopefully try to stop Lucy from becoming even sadder. He had no idea what he'd done wrong, but if she started crying, well, that would be the last straw.
Giggling turned into soundless laughter as Lucy grinned at Gray. Quite frankly, she simply could not believe he'd fallen for that. "God, you're such a girl. Come on, it's my treat." She made a 'come-hither' motion with her index finger, twirled around and walked briskly away.
Gray stood there, planted like a little, surprised and completely confused tree in the ground. It just was not his day today.
Dive into work
Drive the other way