(okay so this first unfinished fic dump was originally going to be my New Year's present for @antiquecompass on New Year’s… 2014? holy shit. well anyway, I ended up finishing the Organic AU fic instead, so I scrapped this, but I had actually gotten pretty far into it. it’s another Modern AU Ducky fic)
The first time Auctus met Duro… well, he really didn’t know what to think.
Kore had just gotten a job at a new elementary school, and while she absolutely adored it, she still wasn’t close to anyone there. So, when her decades-old, beat up, hand-me-down car finally kicked the bucket, it was only natural that she should ask Auctus to pick her up one evening after work. They still lived in the same city, after all, and Auctus had been trying to persuade his sister to get a new car since practically the moment it came into her hands; he would have refused to hand over the keys in the first place if he knew how long she was going to keep it.
He strolled into the school office that evening and found himself standing in front of what was undoubtedly the most unorganized secretary in the entire world. Auctus couldn’t help but stop and stare, utterly awed by the sight before him.
The battered wooden desk was covered in no fewer than seven posters—everything from a “Hang in there!” cat to what looked like a vintage Star Wars poster (it was hard to tell, given that it was covered in neon green post-it notes)—and weighed down with a dozen stacks of paper in every color of the rainbow. There was a tray, but the top rack served only to hold the phone, and the bottom two were full of little origami animals. A sign-in/sign-out binder balanced precariously on the corner, surrounded by an honor guard of coffee mugs, and paperclips and erasers and yet more post-it notes were buried among the debris. In fact, the only neat thing on the entire desk was a little row of rubber ducks wearing various hats, which were placed carefully in a line, following the largest.
Belatedly, Auctus remembered that Kore had described the secretary as “…interesting,” and he looked appraisingly at the man behind the desk. His first thought was young followed immediately by fucking cute.
“Hiya,” the secretary said with a grin. He brushed a bouncing brown curl off his forehead, and Auctus wondered if he had ever met an elementary school employee with a nose ring before. Probably not—but then, he hadn’t met many elementary school employees. “Picking up?”
“Not quite—I’m not a parent, I—”
“Hold on, hold on, I need to earn my salary somehow.” He rustled among the papers on his desk for a moment and then shoved himself away from the main desk on his rolling chair, to the second desk in the back with the computer. The edges of the screen were lined with post-it notes, and his finger skimmed them quickly for a moment, his eyes darting between them and Auctus. “Got it!” He tore one off and pushed himself back. “Kore’s brother, 4:15, tall, brownish hair, likely to have a heart attack if a small child approaches him. Yes?”
Auctus stared at him for a long moment. He needed some time to fully take in this walking human-shaped glob of caffeine. Finally, he nodded.
“That sounds… a little bit accurate. Where’s her room?”
“Oh, sorry, she’s actually in a meeting right now. A parent came in unexpectedly—it might take a while. Take a seat, have some coffee. I put a fresh pot on just a little while ago.”
“No thanks, I don’t drink it.”
The man looked at him with wide eyes.
“That’s impressive. You must be some kind of superhuman to function without that kind of caffeine burst—congratulations. Twizzler?”
He pointed at one of the coffee mugs on his desk, which contained not coffee but candy. Auctus held up a hand.
“Not a fan. Really, I’m good.”
“Really? Oh well, suit yourself. I’m Duro, by the way.”
Auctus nodded his acknowledgement and sat down on a wooden bench in the corner. He had been on his feet most of the day, working a photoshoot, and it was nice to sit down. Jesus, he was getting old.
“Older brother, right?” Duro asked, seemingly on cue.
“Yeah.”
“You have The Look.”
“The what?”
“The Look. My brother has it. It’s kind of a mix between ‘I’m going to fix everything’ and ‘I hate everyone in here.’ Although, to be fair, you’re leaning more towards the former. I imagine Kore’s a very responsible sister, not the type to cause mayhem?”
“Do you cause mayhem?”
Auctus spoke before he could really register his words, and to his utter dismay they came out flirtatious, of all things. Duro’s eyebrows climbed high and a grin spread across his face.
“I do try, yeah,” he laughed.
He leaned on his elbows and tossed his head a little bit, to flip a curl off his face. The look was spoiled by the fact that, in leaning, he had knocked into a binder. A domino effect ensued, and three manila folders and two pen cups spilled onto the floor. Auctus stooped and helped him pick everything up, while Duro tried to simultaneously apologize (for what?) and laugh at himself. He really was obscenely cute, and Auctus was extremely grateful that Kore showed up half a minute later.
“Sorry for making you wait,” she apologized, greeting Auctus with a kiss on the cheek.
“No problem,” Duro said. His eyes fairly sparkled. “Nice meeting you,” he said with a wave.
“Same,” Auctus said as they left, with half a wave.
It was just starting to get cool, and the wind was brisk as they walked back to the car.
“So Duro’s cute, yeah?” Kore asked.
“Hush,” Auctus said sternly, and she laughed at him.
–
The second time Auctus met Duro, there was a crying child in his office. She was quite small, probably five or six… or four or seven. Auctus wasn’t good with kids, especially crying ones.
Duro, on the other hand, clearly was. He had sat the girl on his spinning chair and was crouching down to her level.
“C'mon, Ana, why don’t you show me that pretty smile, hm? You know why we’re smiling, right?” The girl shook her head miserably. “Because you had a great day today and your mom is going to be here real soon, and if she sees us smiling then I bet she’ll be smiling do. C'mon, let me see it.”
He flashed a dazzling smile of his own, but Ana shook her head again with a fresh sob. Duro looked around, seeking assistance, and his eyes lit on Auctus. Auctus stepped away, shaking his head frantically, but Duro immediately lifted the girl off the chair, balancing her on his hip.
“Hey look, it’s Auctus! Auctus, this is my very good friend Ana.”
“Hello,” he said awkwardly as the girl peered up at him with dark, watery eyes.
“Ana just turned five years old, you know. Hard to believe, right, because she looks so grown up? She’s in kindergarten this year and doing a super great job. Her mom tells me she can spell her whole name and she never, ever makes a mistake.”
“That’s pretty impressive,” Auctus said, having absolutely no idea whether it was true or not. When did kids learn to spell? Pretty early, right?
“It’s only three letters!” Ana said with a sniffle. “That’s easy.”
“Can you spell your mom’s name? That’s–how many letters is that? I can’t even remember.”
“N-A-E-V-I-A,” Ana spells slowly, counting on her fingers. “That’s six letters.”
“Oh of course, how silly of me.”
“And her name has a lot of funky vowels in it,” Auctus pointed out. “That sounds pretty hard to spell, to me.”
Ana smiled at him for half a second, and Duro fairly beamed. Goddamn, he was attractive, wasn’t he? Auctus cleared his throat and looked around the office, trying to find a clock. Kore should really be done soon.
“My tummy still hurts,” Ana told Duro.
“I know, Nurse Pietros told me. I’m not going to call your mom, sweetie, she should be here any minute.”
He had hardly finished talking when a woman in a pantsuit strode through the doors, her ponytail swinging in a way that somehow communicated deadly efficiency. She walked up to the sign-out binder, saw Duro and Ana, and sighed.
“Oh, baby. Come here, hun, what’s wrong?”
“Mama!”
Duro flat-out dropped the girl as she squirmed, and then ran over to hug her mother around the knees.
“My tummy hurt, mama, and I thought you weren’t going to pick me up–”
“Sweetie, you know I’m never going to leave you at school, right? Daddy would be very mad at me if I forgot his favorite girl.”
“You’re his favorite girl,” Ana said with a giggle.
“I’m pretty sure I’m his favorite, actually,” Duro interrupted, leaning on the counter. Naevia raised her eyebrows.
“Yeah, that sounds right,” she said, deadpan. “Thanks for looking out for her, Duro.”
“All in a day’s work,” Duro said with a cheerful salute. “Pietros gave her the official okay–oh, and he says to tell you to tell Crixus to turn on his cell phone every once in a while.”
“Will do,” she nodded, taking her daughter’s hand. “All right, Ana, we’re heading out–say goodbye.”
“Bye Duro!” the little girl said with an enthusiastic wave, as though she hadn’t been crying three minutes earlier and, as it sounded, for quite a while before that. At the doorframe, she turned around and waved again. “Bye Auctus!”
Auctus raised his hand automatically, taken aback. He looked at Duro, who was still leaning against the counter with a huge grin on his face.
“She likes you.”
“Kids don’t like me. I don’t like kids.”
“No?”
“If there is a higher power, they saved up all the parenting genes and have them all to Kore.”
“So you don’t like coffee, kids, Star Wars—you judged my poster, I saw you, don’t lie—or Twizzlers. What do you like?” Duro teased.
“Black licorice,” Auctus blurted out impulsively. “Photography. Pigeons. Biking.”
“Wait hold on, go back. Did you say pigeons?”
Auctus nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Duro stared at him for a moment, and laughed. He had… a really nice laugh. Not too hearty, not too weak. Kind of breathless, with a high note of delight. His nose ring glittered enticingly in the fluorescent light.
“Dude. Nobody likes pigeons. Or black licorice, for that matter.”
“Well, I do.”
“That’s cool. You know, you do you. Right on.”
Auctus’s lips twitched.
“Thanks, I suppose.” He leaned against the counter casually. “Do you have any kids?”
“Me? Nah. Two nephews and a niece, but that’s all. And I work here.”
(MORE FLIRTATION)
The third time Auctus met Duro, it was late, and he was tired.
Kore had parent-teacher conferences that day, so she told him to swing by at 8:30. In his mind, that had obviously meant work for twelve hours straight so you don’t bother going home and crashing in between, so he walked into ___ Elementary with a full camera, lips chapped from the cold, and very tired feet.
“Hey, you,” Duro said with his usual chipperness.
“Hey,” Auctus replied with a yawn as he collapsed on the bench. “D’you mind phoning Kore and telling her I’m here? I’m just going to take a nap until she’s ready.”
“Oh no. Oh no, did she not text you?”
“Text me what?” Auctus asked, his eyes still closed.
“Kore went home an hour ago.”
“No.”
“Yes. Two of her conferences cancelled, and one of her last parents to meet with actually was here early for their other kid, so they were really grateful to move up. She said she was going to text you.”
Auctus dug his phone out of a pocket, groaned… and turned it on.
“She did. I missed it. Ugh, I need sleep.”
“You need hot chocolate,” Duro corrected. Auctus didn’t even protest as the secretary bustled about the office for a minute, fetching hot water and chocolate mix and even, incredibly, whipped cream. Within moments he was handing Auctus a huge mug of hot chocolate. It had a picture of a duckling on it.
“What’s with the ducks?” he asked as he accepted it, and Jesus that did feel nice. Duro leaned against the counter with a shrug.
“Makes me more approachable.”
Auctus snorted and took a sip from his hot chocolate. It was absolutely delicious.
“Has that ever been a problem for you?” he asked, amused. Duro grinned.
“Not really.”
(MORE FLIRTING AND THEN COFFEE OR SOMETHING?? THE END)
