And his wrist got snatched by Jacob before he could look at it: “That’s why digital inventories are much less troublesome”
“… I like paper. The feel of it, the smell of it, the permanence. So leave it be an-“
Jacob licked the injured finger. And put the digit in his mouth, sucking gently.
“…” Trevor frowned at him. “… that is unhygienic”
Not that he moved his hand. Until it was removed by his wrist by another hand. And sprayed disinfectant on it. So Richard said: “It is unhygienic. Have a band aid”
His finger wrapped, Trevor stared. Not sure if this was the better outcome.
His feet made tapping sounds on the floor. The soles connected to the plaster and every time there was a small knocking sound. It echoed when he walked between houses.
Of course heaven had these structures as well. As examples of human ingenuity. But it was bright. And no puddles on the floor. No streets that felt too tight to walk through. And that was what this was. Narrow, full of puddles and the roof rails dripped and added to it.
Groups of people laughed, standing around in street corners, leaning against the wall, generally were busy walking, paying him no mind and getting where they wanted as fast as possible if they did not loiter in groups.
“Huh. Hey there. So pleased to meet you, especially out here,” said a voice not far away. And Metatron looked, frowning.
There was a businessman. Appropriately well dressed. Suit. Tie. Shoes. (his feet already itched by their own confinement): “… excuse me?” He asked, after he ascertained the stranger could mean no one else.
Said stranger’s eyebrows rose. And he blinked at him twice: “Oh.” He said. “I… mistook you for someone else. I…” He took a hand out of his pants pockets and ran it through his hair.
He looked… crestfallen. And looked back at him, searching the wall for something with an intense look on his face. “…apologise…”
Metatron looked at the person in front of him – he had gotten into view when he walked past a corner – frowned. And then said: “You seem to be… lost?”
The man looked back, stared for a moment and smiled: “… you remind me of him. Makes the day a little better. But yes. I… I look for a pub? It’s called ‘Volcano’?” He looked hopeful. Closing his eyes,
He checked for the location – only a small use of his internal knowledge – and: “There… is no Vulcano. There actually never was.” He stared at the man. “… could it be you feel more lost? Phone not connecting? Numbers not working on the phones you find?”
He recoiled a little bit, then said, with a mixed look of trust and surprise: “… uh… that… is very specific. And… actually… yes?” There was a phone in his hand now.
“Well, stranger. I believe I can help you,” Metatron held out a hand, a tentative smile on his face: “You aren’t the first one to be lost. Welcome, for now”
The beaming smile of the businessman was a thing to behold. “I… thank you! My name is Richard, by the way. To… not stay strangers any longer”
Trevor patted down his shirt and closed his eyes to take a breath. Inhale. Exhale. He was later than Trevor had thought.
But well. He didn’t give him a time. So. Next time he would.
He started towards the door to his flat.
And was promptly stopped in his tracks when he watched a Richard toe off his shoes and put them in their designated spots even brushing off some dirt with the cloth left there for that purpose.
“And here I thought people rang the door to be let in,” Richard full-body-twitched at the sound of Trevor’s voice, immediately standing and turning in the same motion. His body language changed from stiff limbs, an insecure stand and a business smile to lowered shoulders a stance that was slightly shuffled and more relaxed corners of his mouth. His eyes seemed darker, too.
Richard took a breath, jingled the keys still hanging from his middle finger and said: “Sure, but someone did give me keys”
“… well. I do think someone did, yeah,” Trevor said, taking the last steps towards Richard and... hugged him: “Welcome. It’s… nice that you could make it”
For a moment, Richard stood still. then he put his arms around Trevor and just... breathed. One breath. Two. Three. Then he froze and raised a finger - wher Trevor couldn’t see, obviously - and pushed him the slightest bit away and looked at his phone, pressed seven buttons and put it away again, a tiny and tight nod added to it.
Then he resumed smiling and said: “I got invited Trevor, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Fair, fair. But… uh, what was that about?” Trevor indicated the phone that... apparently was enough reason to break up the greeting. Huh?
“That?” He grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. Someone might become frantic and try to call me. But I told them I’m unavailable and that’s that. They’ll live”
“… are you sure this is alright?” If it was enough reason to-
Richard laughed. Covering his mouth and everything. And waved it off: “It’s my assistant. Really, he’s perfectly capable of handling it. He proved it to me yesterday. Talking to me will not help. It is alright”
Trevor raised a brow: “… if you say so, I suppose it is”
“Mmh, yes, I do,” he looked a bit tired. But he smiled. It was fair.
“… just take the red wine to the dining room. I’ll be with your shortly,” because if he really was tired, they would need the water to spare him the headache come morning
He blinked at Trevor… and looked around. After three failed attempts,he say the decanter in the middle of the table, indicated it and nodded with a lopsided smile.
Definitely the water.
When he walked over to the dining table, there was a soft thud when he put the wine down. And it took another two seconds until Trevor could hear: “Woah! What fancy restaurant did you rob for us today?”
And Trevor chuckled when he got to the room, water and glasses in hand. He said: “Some of us did find use in learning how to cook”
Trevor placed a kiss on the cheek of the slightly awestruck face of his boyfriend. He might be tired. But he apparently could still be visibly delighted.
„Order denied,“ Jeff snarled, seconds after the crashing door made a dent in the wall. The plaster still trickled down.
Richard Dickenson slowly turned, leaning against the railing he slouched on before. The storm in 500 meters height apparently doing his hair favours. He looked amused of all things and leaned back, slightly slouching backwards. With a chuckle, he said: “You deny a direct order, mister Fulton? May I inquire about the sudden doubts?”
He looked like nothing was wrong. He looked like the world was at peace and like he hadn’t just-
“You cancelled the deal! You cancelled the appointment! So the deal will fall through. If you don’t show up and convince them one last time, the last months were for nothing. I know that. You know that. And this is the third time you had a lapse in judgement! Leaving your phone with sound. Disappearing from meetings. Bad enough. But this. It will cost millions!”
With something like a growing smile, he looked towards the sky and his hand made a ‘what of it?’ gesture. And shrugged.
Kch.
Looking him over, he still had the bloody keys in is hand. A chicken nugget package on the key ring. The bloody thing already left dents in his hand, he held it so often.
Gritting his teeth, Jeff frowned and stared at his boss: “Can I be frank, Mr. Dickenson?”
“Sure, Frank,” he chuckled and looked at Jeff again, still amused, for some godawful reason.
“May I be sincere and honest with you, so our future working relationship can function without anything making it difficult?” Jeff said, voice level now.
At least that made him pause for a moment. Mister Dickenson smoothed out his features and tilted his head, then straightened up and nodded: “Certainly. You earned it after almost 18 months. Please, speak freely, no repercussions”
Jeff took a deep breath, then shook his head: “Mister Dickenson. This… relationship you seem to have. Your work suffers for it. Not only your work, honestly. Whenever that jingle sounds you immediately take out the phone and you always snap it closed. Your answers are almost snappy for a minute, too. Whoever it is, they make you unhappy more often than they make you happy. They apparently gave you their keys. Big deal. You never have time to go there. You know that, they know that. Just go pick up someone else. We both know for a fact there is a queue”
He tilted his head in the other direction - ‘hmm’-ing, rubbing his chin, the other arm, at his side, still clutching the keys too hard. Tsk.
“… how very… observant of you,” Mr. Dickenson said, looking at Jeff with an expression he had not worn before, at least not in his presence. For the first time, he was examined in return. Jeff wasn’t sure if it was a good feeling.
Gritting his teeth, Jeff pressed out: “Well. You are also hurting your hand with those keys. Maybe letting them – and their owner - go… is better for you?”
Richard looked at the fist containing the keys, almost curious. And opened his hand to examine his palm, rubbing the red lines and dangling the keys the key ring, he said: “Ah, you’re right again” and smiled.
“Ah,” Jeff smiled. And took his PDA out. “Good! Then we can get back on track and I can immediately delete the-“
“Heh. Not the letting go. But I do need to take better care of my hands. Not least of all since you are rather attracted to them, aren’t you?”
Jeff stopped writing. What. What?
His ears heated up. This was very unprofessional. This was not at all the topic of discussion, either!
“Excuse me?” He fixated him with a stare. Really, now.
Richard Dickenson took a breath. A small smile spread on his face and when he looked up from his hand to fixate on Jeff, he looked… relaxed. Kind. And… something Jeff couldn’t put his finger on.
“You wouldn’t have suggested a rebound if you weren’t at least hopeful. New distractions wouldn’t help. But if it was you… no appointment would be missed anymore, would they?” He spoke softly, not even mocking, and while Jeff stared, he took a step towards him, hands in pockets now, looking those five centimetres down “So, you are offering?”
Jeff was sure that not only his ears were warm now. And he already moved a foot back, when he suddenly set his jaw and held his PDA to the side: “If… if that is what it takes, I’ll- I’ll-“
Richard reached for the other’s arm. And held his thumb to his pulse point. Jeff’s pulse was way too fast. And maybe his hand was shaking, too. So Richard’s gaze wandered from the hand to Jeff’s face and he breathed out, slowly. And now Jeff could see how he looked. He looked-
“I am sorry. I didn’t think you’d feel anything more than lust for me”
Jeff shook his hand free and now did take a step back, frowning: “How old are you? You… you don’t look older than me, but you are old”
He took a step back as well, leaning back against the railing again, smiling now, a little… sheepish? What e
“Haaah… I think you earned a few answers, mh?” When Jeff glared back at him, Richard chuckled. And looked a bit more like himself. “Should I be ‘sincere and honest with you, so our future working relationship can function’?”
The secretary’s frown deepened: “… sure? Yeah. Sure. Tell me!”
After taking a breath, Richard… started speaking: “Mmmh. So, first. My compliments to you. You really are very observant. You actually are the most observant assistant I had up to now. None of the others came even close to interpreting my mood, so congratulations, really”
Jeff continued staring, raising an annoyed eyebrow: “Compliments get you nowhere, today”
“It’s not for me, Mr. Fulton, it’s a compliment for you. There are too few genuine compliments in our line of work. This was one. Even if you stumbled on the time I was most easy to read, it’s still impressive. And ‘today’, really? You admit to the crush?” He looked amused again.
If his skin had allowed it, he would be red as a tomato at this point. Even his neck felt like it was burning: “It does not influence my work ethic or efficiency”
“Oh, I think it does… positively,” Richard looked for three seconds before he apparently did not want to torture him anymore. And looked away, to say: “Yet… as flattering as it is – it will give my already impressive ego another boost, believe me – I can and will not entertain the option. It would not be fair to you. And currently… I do try to be there for someone. As hard as it may be”
“But hey aren’t making you happy,” and that was the entire point, was it not?
Richards eyes returned to Jeff and the latter almost stumbled, but Richard answered: “… not fair to point it out so clearly,” he exhaled, “It’s true, of course. Most of the time, I’m miserable. It’s disheartening to be barely tolerated and always five seconds away from getting thrown out or inevitably rejected.”
“Then why would you do that?!” Richard made even less sense than usual.
“Because hope is important. And I shouldn’t have any. But instead, they don’t. And they ae supposed to be a beacon. And… do you know how it feels to light a beacon? Or find one? When you’re lost? Giving hope is the greatest gift there is. It’s the only one, actually. And it’s their job. It’s time someone returned the favour. They’ll likely reject me, when they re-find their own hope. But that’s life. I’m used to it. For now, though. I try to be there. Maybe I’ll need a crowbar to get them to open their heart again, but I’ll try my damndest”
“… this is bullshit and you are blind. What the hell. This mystery-lover has you convinced they are oh-so-special and you drop everything to be by their side? What nonsense. Hell, the should be thankful, if it’s their job, that you believe in them and give them a break. Seriously. This is awful. Just drop them”
His old eyes looked at me again. For a long moment. And then he crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow: “… so you would take a chance, if it meant you could better yourself? If it was a great opportunity and the only thing you might lose is face?”
“Tch. In a heartbeat!” This was the entire reason why their business model worked.
“Alright.” He pushed himself away from the railing and started walking towards the elevator-door, “Then I revise my order. The appointment on Wednesday is not cancelled”
“Finally you see reason, I’ll gladly take-“
“You are the most knowledgeable about the subject anyway. Everything I know, you told me. So you’ll lead the meeting. You can hold the presentation in front of me if you want critique beforehand. So. Understood?” He had his hand on the elevator-button.
“… what?!” The PDA fell out of his hand.
The button got pressed. “You’ll lead the meeting on Wednesday. It’s either that… or it’ll cost us millions and there’ll be lost time to account for. So, I think this will be a great opportunity”
Jeff stared and looked toward the floor, trying to see or find anything, thoughts racing, then he said: “I am not the presenter. This is ridiculous! And… and you didn’t even give me any information! You weren’t frank and… you can’t just give me this task!”
The elevator door ding-ed open and Richard walked in, smirking: “I just did. And if you want more information than I gave you now… you have to impress me again. Wednesday is a perfect opportunity,” he indicated a good bye with two fingers, “I’ll see you soon. Good luck!”
And the doors closed. Only the metal doors of the elevator, the door of the stairs and the dent in the wall still kept him company.
