Work Text:
Magic City was always busy. There was always something happening, especially when magic and civilian infrastructure decided to do the good ol’ tango of mass destruction. Oh, there were criminals as well, both mages and non-mages, from small-time crooks to villains that would evade capture of weeks on end. Never was there an idle day.
Particularly not for your department, and particularly not for a rookie with only a handful of months officially on the force! You had joined fresh out of the academy, heart gripped firmly in a resolute hand and glittering eyes staring straight into a bright skyline. Now, the only thing that you ever looked at with such vigour was your first (or second, or third, or fourth) cup of coffee.
Work was more than tough — your nose was constantly to the grindstone from the moment you clocked in, and sometimes quite literally, if the grindstone in question was the city’s pavement. Sure, you hadn’t wanted to be put on paperwork duty for two years, but being thrown on the other end of the extreme wasn’t quite ideal either. It was exciting to run around the city, at least, although you weren’t quite allowed to do more than relay intel to your seniors. The wind blowing by your face and the feel of your shoes twisting at each turned corner was almost enough to make you forget your fatigue for a little while.
And you were grateful, albeit resentful in a roguish-youth kind of way, that you had never been directly put into a dangerous situation. Your colleagues were stern, but kindly and hardworking. They had quickly become like a second family to you, part of which you attributed to the bonds forged while suffering through long hours and complaints over the similarly overworked water cooler.
You learnt that it was the norm around here for everyone to look haggard and slightly singed from various magical accidents, from the new blood such as yourself all the way up to the chief.
Speaking of the chief…
Almond himself was your ‘line manager’, of sorts, tasked with training the trainee (you!) atop of all his other responsibilities. You heard that he also taught a class, Preventing Magical Accidents and Mishaps, at the looming Parfaedia Institute which was surreptitiously not too far from the MCPD. "The Institute's a regular customer," some of your seniors snidely suggested, as they sorted through the fat file on the very same institute.
How could one man handle such a stacked plate? It wasn’t as if everyone else was slacking either, so you couldn’t really pull the whole inequality excuse. Not to mention that Almond was actually the Chief , so whatever notions of power abuse you maybe would’ve entertained went right out the window.
So busy, and yet he still found the time to give you a worn smile at the end of the day when you poked your head into his office or met his eyes as they scanned a document, asking whether there was anything else you could do, because you were heading home now?
‘It’s alright, kid. Get some rest, we’ll hold down the fort without you till tomorrow.’
It was always something along those lines. You had never seen him leave before you and, on one hand, that was pretty normal for a boss, right? But Almond, with his constant takeaway coffee cup and tired lines around his eyes, well, you weren’t sure if he ever left headquarters at all.
Where did he even live? Not that you wanted to know for any nefarious reasons, no, but you couldn’t help but cast your too-curious mind to the state of his hypothetical bed. Did he sleep in it, or did he make use of that (very) comfy-looking couch in his office? Did he hang that spiffy overcoat of his properly, or did he toss it aside onto a convenient, designated clothes chair? Then that holster harness had to go somewhere , right? Was his walkie-talkie always turned on and placed next to his pillow (down? memory foam?)? What kind of cologne did he wear, you know, that one that swung between sandalwood and—
Right about here, you would always stop yourself. The excuse of ‘concern for your superior’ started to run a little thin right around thoughts of the beige overcoat. Could you really be blamed, though? It looked pretty cool, like it had a nice weight to it, and you remembered the way that it would whip gently in the breeze so very dramatically whenever you had the chance to accompany him during fieldwork. Not to mention the other thing: Almond’s dress shirts were really tailor-made, weren’t they, so crisp and fitted and leaving just enough for the imagination…
You’d roll over, sigh at the predictable paper trail of your thoughts, and then squirm a hand down your sleep shorts. You told yourself that you would definitely wake up on time tomorrow despite this inconvenient distraction and that it was beneficial to your overall wellbeing to apprehend this horndog of a criminal mastermind before your heart could sustain any more damage. The evidence still stated that it might be a little iffy to masturbate to thoughts of your (hot) older boss , but you chose to ignore them in favour of your trusty intuition.
It didn’t help that he was so kind. Caring, too, nothing at all like what you had expected a chief of police to be. While on the field, he was a quick-thinker and a natural leader, giving snappy orders without pause, always ready to run off to wherever next he was needed. Then, once the dust cleared, Almond put his team first, making sure everyone was alright.
What had he said to you when you’d been roped into your first case and had gotten a bit too gung-ho?
‘Kid, you’ve got to calm down and take it slow. Leave the heavy-lifting to us old hands for now, alright? Your first priority is to not get hurt and not get into any trouble.’
All while deftly wrapping gauze around that nasty, messy scrape on your calf. MCPD’s chief, doing that for you, a rookie who’d been stupid and careless! Sitting there, his calloused, warm hands periodically brushing against your skin and his mellow voice drifting around your head, it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise to you when you later realised that shit, this is the start of a classic, one-sided, inappropriate workplace relationship.
Months of secret pining really weren’t something that you could withstand on top of work. It was also getting harder and harder to meet Almond’s blue-grey eyes without having to wrangle down the internal guilt of your night-time ‘arrests’ and subsequently coughing weirdly or feeling your ears turn red. You would swear that at least two of your peers harboured suspicions, if the waggling eyebrows and exaggerated expressions they made when Almond’s back was turned said anything.
So you were grateful when a particularly tough nut of a case took the MCPD by storm, eight-ish months into your time here. The entire department was mobilised to deal with it — some kind of black market coalition — and it solidly kept your mind off your chief. A whole week passed without you having to confiscate your horniness, mostly due to the fact that you had to keep running on the most minimal sleep possible, since the criminals you were up against were constantly on the move.
Ironically, you were able to see even more of Almond, since you were basically under his care and had grown enough to accompany him on the field every time. Despite the tense circumstances, it was a terrific experience and served to heighten your admiration.
Sitting in the same car as him and watching him expertly maneuver Magic City’s streets? You memorised the quiet strength and grace of his hands on the wheel and wondered what they would feel like holding you down.
That time he shielded you with his body when a trap was set off above your head? Yes, it had just been some minor pyrotechnics, but Almond’s tight embrace and the subsequent grab-and-roll had you feverishly huddling in your blankets.
The way he didn’t ever talk down to you, trusted you with important tasks, and ordered takeaway coffee for two? Fuel for your heart’s own fantasies.
In hindsight, perhaps you weren’t as grateful for the case as you would’ve thought, though you were certainly grateful in other ways.
When all the culprits were rounded up and the underground organisation cleanly shut down, the case was closed with a resounding cheer from the entire department. Sighs of relief, including yours, harmonised with each other, and the first whispers of celebration began to grow. So what if tomorrow was a Thursday? They deserved at least an evening’s break for catching the largest group of smugglers Magic City had ever seen!
This was how you ended up here, at the nearest bar from headquarters, sandwiched between your friends, beer dripping condensation down your hand. Rented out for the entire night, the place was packed with your colleagues, higher-ups and rookies mingling with each other as freely as a found family. The table you were sitting at was mostly your peers, though, but the atmosphere was undeniably one of kinship.
A commotion near the counter.
‘Attention!’ The deputy chief stood up and clapped a couple times, her voice booming. Almond was facing the bar from his stool. ‘The boss here wants to say something! Quiet down and listen!’
As Almond thanked the imposing woman and stood up, the noise died down. You noticed that he’d taken off his overcoat and had his sleeves rolled up. Now, that was a nice watch he had on there.
‘Nothing you guys don’t already know, but good work these past weeks!’ This was met with raucous calls and cheers. You even joined in, all smiles, while one of your friends elbowed you in the ribs.
‘Job’s never easy—’
‘And the pay’s nothin’ fancy!’ yelled someone good-naturedly from further back, to a ripple of long-suffering sniggers.
Almond inclined his glass towards the voice, chuckling. ‘That, too. But the city’s safe and the job’s easier because of every single person in this room. I couldn’t be prouder of a team, and that includes you freshies over there!’
He looked towards your table and you tricked yourself into thinking that he was staring straight at you and not just your general direction.
‘Not so fresh anymore, I’ll bet, but it must’ve been hard learning the ropes with us old-timers breathing down your necks and making you run from place to place!’
Laughter and a few protests from said ‘old-timers’ at the use of the term. You felt compelled (perhaps by the alcohol) to say something, so you did:
‘At least you always got your own coffee, Chief!’
Immediately after the last syllable left your mouth, you clamped your lips down as a wave of embarrassment scurried over you like a bajillion fleas. Thankfully, the crowd was welcoming and were laughing with you, not at you, with additions from the other rookies scattered here and there, but the only thing you could hear was Almond’s laughter. Now he was definitely, certainly, most-assuredly looking directly into your eyes, and even through the slight smokiness of the bar, you could see them twinkle.
You had made him laugh. Your heart was aflutter. Your friends were sharing glances over your head.
‘Right you are, kid! A man’s gotta set a good example, after all. And I hope everyone here who’s got a trainee under them does the same!’ Almond’s gaze left yours and swept around the room. ‘Now, that’s enough from me! Go ahead and enjoy yourselves, because even the boss is gonna be late tomorrow!’
When you turned back to your table, your friends began whispering to you.
‘He knows.’
‘And if he didn’t know before, he for real knows now.’
‘Tonight! You should totally make a move tonight. Get some of that—'
‘Shut up!’ You hiss at their giggling faces. ‘He does not know because he’s a nice man and an upstanding boss and I’m just a degenerate with degenerate wet dreams! Besides, he could be married for all I know, god!’
Saying that out loud made you feel like sinking down into the soft confines of the earth, where guilt was your soil and despair your fertiliser. You settled for drinking deep out of your can.
‘I mean, you’ve been around him the most out of all of us. Ever seen a ring or anything?’
‘No,’ you admitted glumly. ‘But he has a dangerous, active job. Maybe he takes it off to keep it safe.’
‘He seems like the kind of guy to value these things, though. If he was married.’
‘Been in his office loads of times, too,’ you continued without prompting. ‘Didn’t see any family pictures or homemade gifts from a son or daughter. That doesn’t really mean anything though,’ you drink again, exhaling wetly. ‘Maybe he just has a strict work-life balance.’
‘Sounds like you’ve thought about it a lot,’ said your friend from behind a fist, which hid a shit-eating grin.
‘Of course I have!’ Since everyone here already knew, you figured that you might as well let off some steam. ‘I work with him on the daily and don’t even tell me you don’t see it!’
‘See what?’
‘You know, it . How h-attractive he is,’ you swiftly corrected yourself. ‘But nothing’s going to happen because I. Work. For. Him .'
‘Not to mention the age gap, am I right?’
‘One thing at a time,’ you groused, and that was the end of that.
The night wore on, conversation moving to other, safer topics. Someone went to borrow a deck of cards from the bartender and you spent a good time gambling away some spare change. Some of your colleagues came over to talk to you and you wandered around the other tables when you felt like it, the chances of which increased the more you drank. Eventually, more and more people said their goodbyes and trailed off into the night, lured by the siren song of their beds and the promise of a boss-approved late day.
You and your friends continued on until you noticed that you guys were the loudest table; so many had already left, leaving only a fair handful. Though he had been lingering at the back of your mind for this entire time, it was only now that you properly thought to look towards the counter.
Almond was still there, talking with the deputy chief. There was a flush to his face that you had never seen before and would very honestly like to see more of.
Fifteen minutes later, your fleeting wish was granted.
‘Rookie,’
You turned, slightly bleary-eyed, hiding your hand of cards on instinct. Your eyes went up and up to meet the deputy chief’s.
‘Uh, yes ma’am?’ you straighten up.
‘I want you to escort—'
‘C’mon, I’m fine on my own—' Behind her, you could see Almond reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder.
‘—back to headquarters,’ continued the deputy as resolute as a mountain range. ‘As you can see, he is intoxicated—'
‘Am not—'
‘—and as the second-in-command, it is my duty to stay and make sure those remaining here do not cause any trouble.’
Vaguely, you remembered that the deputy chief had some military training in her.
‘I just need to go back to the office and get my keys,’ retorted Almond with a steady voice. However, this close, you could see the way the colour was high in his cheeks and how those blue-grey eyes were not as keen as they usually were.
‘Yes, I am aware. I do not want you to trip over the door and knock yourself out along the way.’
Almond snorted. This was a first for your ears. ‘I’m not going to do that.’
‘Good. But I am sending your rookie with you as insurance.’ The deputy’s tone brooked no argument and Almond sighed his signature sigh, resigned.
You could not see it, but behind you, your friends were practically vibrating in their seats. Your own mouth was slightly slack as the situation slapped the stupor out of your brain.
‘Sorry to be a bother, kid,’ said Almond as you hurriedly got out of your chair, heart thudding so loud you worried that the whole bar could hear.
‘Not at all, sir!’ There! Clear and calm, and you didn’t even stammer. The deputy chief nodded at you, satisfied, and you nodded back, elated. ‘Wait, lemme get your coat or, or something.’
Before he could complain, you scuttled over to the now-sparse coat rack and made a beeline for the overcoat you had had the pleasure of looking at day after day. As you took it off the hook, the slight scent of sandalwood and cedar brushed past your cheek. You felt like crying.
‘Here you are, sir,’ you passed it over as Almond walked up to you.
‘How many times have I told you to shake that habit, kid?’ Almond led the way out of the bar, shrugging on the coat. ‘No need to keep calling me sir. You’re shaping up to be more of my partner than anything, especially with your progress on this last case,’
So, would you like it if I called you something else? Those words were ripped from your throat and shoved deep down inside your belly. You were nowhere near drunk enough to even shape your mouth into the first word of that sentence.
Instead, the word ‘partner’ danced around in your mind and underwent mitosis through your neurons.
Almond pushed open the door briskly and the blast of cold, late night air woke you up even further. It was refreshing, the city in these parts more or less silent, and here you were, walking with your boss and (let’s admit it) forbidden crush. It would be a couple minutes till headquarters, so you decided to fill the comfortable silence a little, just to hear his voice.
‘Sir-um. Are you really that drunk?’ you ventured, glancing at his profile. ‘You really don’t seem like it.’
‘Hmph, as I said before, I am not,’ said Almond firmly, hair tousled up by a breeze. ‘…is what I’d like to say. But it’s been awhile and I may have gone a bit too far into my glass.’
‘Oh. Right.’
‘Hope I’m not ruining the image, kid. I’m doing my damned best to keep it together, just for you,’ Almond gave you a sheepish smile, which you returned.
‘Er.’ Though you often started out tense whenever around him, he had a way of unconsciously getting you to relax. ‘It’s fine. But in that case, could I ask you something?’
‘Fire away.’
‘If you could stop calling me kid all the time, I’ll stop calling you sir. How’s that?’
Almond barked a laugh that echoed briefly through the quiet, darkened streets.
‘I-is it really that funny?’ you complained, balking a little. ‘I’m not really a kid anymore, either, so it makes a lot more sense for me to call you sir than for you to call me—!’
‘Easy there,’ Almond chuckled and placed a hand on your shoulder. ‘No offence intended; if it really bothers you that much, then I’ll stop. You’ve more than earned it, anyway.’
You smiled again, head buzzing pleasantly. The warmth of his hand through your shirt helped.
MCPD HQ was still there when the two of you arrived, despite your hopes that it would’ve grown legs and moved away farther so you could continue amicably chatting with Almond. Upon going up the two steps to the main door, Almond did, in fact, stumble a little, and you were right there to steady him with eager hands.
‘I guess the deputy was right about insurance, huh?’ you couldn’t help but remark snidely, holding onto the rough shape of Almond’s arm for as long as you could until you let go out of propriety.
‘What if I was just trying to make you feel useful?’ returned Almond.
You made a sour face as he switched on the lights, revealing the messy, paper-strewn office beyond the dimly lit reception area. ‘Shouldn’t have caught you back there, then.’
Almond chuckled as he walked in the direction of his private office. ‘Kidding, kidding. Your company’s more than enough, kid. Ah, sorry ‘bout that.’
You didn’t mind, following him in a bit of a daze. It didn’t occur to you that you needn’t have gone in, too, since he was just getting his house keys, but here you were, practically teleported into his office.
You and him. Alone. In a room.
The words of your friend exploded in your brain. Tonight, make a move on him tonight.
Almond let out a deep groan as he sank into his office chair, ripping you out of your thoughts. Your increasingly nervous eyes darted over and saw his face, still flushed, closed in a picture of bliss. His body was limp, relaxed, as if he really had been holding it together this whole time (just for you).
‘Mmm, probably shouldn’t have done that, but it looked nice enough for a bit of a break,’ said Almond, rolling his neck around. Even his words had the vaguest slur to them now. His eyes opened slightly and regarded you with an emotion that you couldn’t place (it was fatigue). ‘Thanks for seeing me all the way in here, but you can go home now. Or even back to the bar, if you’d like. Think I’m gonna get some shut-eye here till I sober up enough to drive home myself.’
His voice was a lower register now, less mellow and more of the gravel you often heard at the end of his sentences, in his sighs. It was that sound that drove your feet forward until you put your hands on his desk. Almond looked up at you curiously, waiting for some innocent question or expression of concern.
‘…I don’t think that’s a good idea, sir.’ Every pore in your body was shivering. The words came out softer than you intended, but Almond heard just fine.
He raised an eyebrow and you almost turned tail. ‘Why’s that? And didn’t I say not to—'
‘I-What I mean is that, that it’ll take a while. To sober up. And you might end up sleeping the whole night in here, which would definitely not be comfortable,’ you stopped and started like a faulty engine, but strangely, with every word you said, you gained a new tick of confidence.
Almond continued to watch you, still waiting, since it seemed like you weren’t done talking. He was nice like that, always willing to hear you out.
Well, you thought deliriously as you quickly made your way around the table to where he sat. No seductive saunter here. It’s time to return the favour.
In an instant, you dropped to your knees in front of the office chair, pushing a bit so the wheels rolled back, giving you more space. You had to do this before either your heart or your courage gave out, so you steeled yourself by placing trembling hands on his thighs.
‘Kid, wh—' Almond tried to rouse himself.
‘S-sir, please. Stay still.’ Your breathing came heavily as you glanced up at his face, searching frantically for any sign of anger or disapproval. There was only struggling confusion; it seemed that Lady Luck and Lord Inebriation were on your side today. ‘I…I really want to do this for y-you. And it’ll help. To sober you up.’
You tried to be matter-of-fact as you, rushing as fast as you could without sacrificing efficiency, undid his belt and edged his pinstripe trousers down. This close, his cologne mixed with the scent of alcohol made you dizzy with a growing lust as you raised yourself a bit to take in the sight before you.
Oh, right. Boxer-briefs (a boxer-briefs kinda guy, huh?) off, first.
Before you could strip them down, Almond’s hand got to yours first, but you swiftly countered by twisting and grabbing onto it. Your boss was saying something that you willed to be incoherent to yourself and you forcefully planted his hand firmly onto your head. This gave him pause.
You knew he would not dream of hurting you. Had he wished to do so, even in his drunken state, you were sure that he’d have pushed you off a long time ago. Was this taking advantage of his kindness? Yep with a capital P, but the moment you felt his fingers almost grudgingly relax into your hair cleared everything else clean out of your mind. The coveted touch of that strong, protective hand did wonders for your nerves.
Underwear off.
There it was. Your boss’s cock, currently flaccid, but you had a fantastic plan to fix that. Back in the bar, one of your friends sneezed as you mentally thanked her profusely for her absurd idea and took up the cock in your hand. You gave it some experimental tugs and gentle squeezes, eyes fixated as you leaned closer, your other hand bracing on the chair.
Almond made a small noise in his chest above you and shifted around. You glanced up and a shot went down your spine when you firmly met his eyes. Your face heated, but you persevered.
‘I don’t think,’ murmured Almond. ‘That you know what you’re doing, kid.’
Wow. You hadn’t been expecting a heckle. Although it might've been more of a warning.
‘Watch me,’ you replied under your breath and opened your mouth, bending your head to lap his soft cock up into one of your wet caverns.
As it was, it was easy to slick it up with spit and swirl around it with your tongue. You began to suck without any real technique, because there wasn’t even much to go around just yet, but when the fingers in your hair tightened their grip imperceptibly, you knew you were making leaps and bounds.
Almond’s cock slowly grew in your mouth. You hummed, triumphant, and very soon you had to back off somewhat as it reached its full length. Eagerly, you continued your opening act until it was surely more than half-hard. The man above you groaned and tried one more time to discourage you. He pushed against your shoulder with a bit of force and you went willingly…but replaced your mouth with a hand, properly stroking him now, smooth sailing thanks to your saliva.
You twisted your wrist and paid attention to the ridge of his cockhead, swiping your thumb over the slit and coming away with pre-come.
He was looking at you with conflict in his eyes. This made you brave.
‘Still want me to stop, sir?’ you said, letting your mouth open invitingly. You were thankful that you weren’t drunk enough to be afraid of throwing up.
Almond did not answer immediately, and you took the time to admire the way his hair was roguishly tousled, those honeyed brown strands shot with white all out of order. Dishevelled white dress shirt. There was a sprinkling of stubble on his chin, a testament to how hard he’d been working recently, since he was usually clean-shaven.
That’s right. You wanted him to take a break. Relax.
You gave his cock a firm pump and welcomed it into your mouth again. This time, Almond sighed through his nose and moved his hand from your shoulder to grip the armrest instead. You took that as a green light. Your tongue laved around his shaft, your hand around what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Almond was fairly average in length as far as you could tell, but his cock had a pleasant weight to its girth that made you want to jam it down your throat.
The bitterness of his pre-come did not register in your brain as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked. The fingers in your hair gripped tighter, and though you didn’t hear anything more than a breath from Almond’s mouth, you could feel that his hand was holding back. You wanted to let him know that it was perfectly okay to shove your head down on his cock, but your mouth was sort of occupied.
You settled with taking him deeper, relaxing your throat muscles and feeling his heavy, hot rod push through. Your tongue felt up the veins running along his shaft as his leaking head dripped down your throat. Bringing your bracing hand up to rest on his thigh, you tilted your bobbing head to fit more in and Almond swept his hand across your forehead, making sure your hair didn’t get in the way.
He was breathing shallowly now, fingers on the armrest clenching. Just like his time at the bar, it had been awhile. When his mouth next opened, he actually said your name in a low groan that made the ache in your jaw a hundred times worth it. That, combined with the weight, warmth, and kind comfort radiating from the hand on your head drove your own need to the brink, but with the resolve of a politician about to lie to millions of people, you ignored it and pressed on.
‘I’m,’ gasped Almond, trying not to buck his hips. ‘Close, kid, I—‘
You pulled off with the classic pop and slowly stroked him again. Your fully erect boss was a real sight to behold, somehow tightly wound and slumped in his chair at the same time, a different sort of blush in his cheeks. Even through all of this, he still had the capacity to lightly and briefly scratch his fingers on your scalp.
That reminded you.
‘You can, you know,’ you said, voice hoarse, lips slick with spit and pre-come. A little slid down the corner of your mouth. ‘Push me down. I want you to relax, so you can just let it all out. Sir.’
You saw his jaw clench and something flash through his eyes. Without hesitation, Almond used the hand on your head to guide you back on his straining cock. You ducked forwards, licking a stripe up the underside, and went down by yourself. His hand settled into your hair immediately after and, threading his fingers between your locks, your boss pushed down while bucking his hips up.
The tears that prickled into your eyes were belied by the excitement thudding in your heart. It was now hard to breathe as Almond’s cock was driven deeper and deeper, the base nearly fully sheathed inside your wanting mouth. You could hear his breathing much clearer now, and when you struggled to flick your gaze up to see him, a moan tried to escape your throat as you saw the single-minded lust directed nowhere else but you.
‘Did you imagine this?’ Oh god, he was talking, his words slurring together. ‘Here? How often?’
Your tears slid down your cheek as he went faster, harder. It sounded like he was talking to himself, but out loud.
‘Getting to me while I’m drunk,’ Almond’s cock was impossibly hot in your mouth. You could feel the tell-tale throb and forced your jaw to go slack. ‘Coming onto me like I always had the chance to use you. Like this,’
You moaned in earnest, stuffed with his cock. In response, a rumble left Almond’s chest as he bent over you slightly.
He grunted a warning and you tried to keep your eyes open as he pushed and held your head firmly down on his spurting cock. White, hot stripes splattered the back of your throat, the pressure on your head forcing you to swallow. Then, it eased, but you only backed away a little, determined in your task as you dutifully licked and sucked all of your boss’ come. Whatever he gave you, you drank in readily, despite the taste. Your reward for this service came in the now-gentle pats he was giving your head.
When you finally drew his softening cock out of your mouth, Almond urged you up to your numb feet. Before you could say or even think anything, he brought you in for a kiss, and from then on, you were incapable of saying or thinking anything. It was kind, even though you knew he could taste himself on your lips. You could feel the traces of — was it whiskey? — drift from his mouth into yours and, compounded with everything, you could imagine yourself getting a little drunk. Relatively chaste, given what you’d just done; no tongue or teeth involved, just an (dare you say it) affectionate kiss of thanks.
Dare you say it… loving ?
Your hands grasped at his collar, the silken fabric of his tie, trying to take in as much as you were allowed. He gently wiped the remnants of your tears from your cheeks with calloused fingers.
He let you pull away even though you were loathe to. Almond’s face was the most relaxed you’d ever seen it, which meant that he was on the verge of falling asleep. He was smiling at you, mouth opening to say something.
That’s when everything slammed into you like a stray truck. Not the lingering taste at the back of your tongue, not your sore jaw, not your numb knees, or the warmth still hovered on your scalp, but Almond’s damned smile that creased his eyes in familiar lines.
Fire leapt under your bones and you felt like screaming at the moon.
‘Okay! Rest well, sir, I mean. Yeah!’ you blurted, voice breaking, before Almond could get a word in, crying inside as you stepped away from his hands that held your arms just like you had always wanted. ‘Please, don’t mind me! I’ll go home! Right now!’
You knew he was watching you as you practically ran out of his office, shouting a frantic goodnight! over your shoulder. Your world spun all the way back home (you ran the whole distance, ten minutes of sprinting to tire yourself out) and throughout your quick get-ready-for-bed routine, the image behind your eyelids each time you blinked was the face that your boss made when he came. You managed to catch a glimpse of it right before your eyes screwed shut: throat bared, Adam’s apple bobbing, hair covering his eyes as his head tensed to one side.
His hand on your head, through your hair.
That kiss afterwards.
You settled for screaming into your pillow instead.
Oh, and getting yourself off as well. It had been a really, really long day.
+++
The next day, everything was normal, even though your nerves were on tenterhooks the whole time. You had almost called in sick, but worried that that may cause even more suspicion. Not that anyone could’ve known; you knew better than to text your friends about it. Better to tell them in person so you could threaten their lives properly.
‘Mornin’, kid!’ Almond raised a hand to you when he walked in, fit as an overcoated fiddle. ‘Sorry I’m late, though I’m more surprised that you’re on time. Did I miss anything?’
You opened your mouth to reply, but stopped, your fingers freezing on the keyboard. Why was he so normal? Why was he so normal? He was looking at you with his usual friendliness. Voice recognition reported no audible signs of, well, anything. Was he just acting? No, what you’d done was insanely inappropriate…and surely more than just a little memorable!
Wait, now that was something. Did Almond forget? He was drunk last night, after all. Did he forget? Would something like that be forgettable under the influence? You’d heard stories from friends about how sometimes stuff like this happened, hell, it happened to you once or twice, but you couldn’t imagine it happening to your spick-and-span boss. Was that just your bias? You’d never seen him drunk before last night. Maybe he did forget.
He was still calling you ‘kid’, too.
You didn’t know how that made you feel. Relieved? Sure, but you could name disappointment pretty quickly. Although, it was a misplaced dismay – what exactly had you been hoping for? There was no way someone like Almond would even consider you as a…more than a work partner. It was more likely that if he hadn’t forgotten, you’d be fired.
Still.
‘Kid?’
Your eyes refocused. Almond had come right up to your desk, a worried look on his face. ‘Are you alright? I told you guys last night that you didn’t need to force yourself today, right?’
‘Um, yeah, no, I’m fine! Sir,’ you added hastily. ‘Just a bit sleepy, I guess, but nothing new there! Hahaha…’
Almond didn’t seem convinced (he wasn’t a detective for nothing), but he let it slide. ‘If you say so, kid.’ He made to go past you into his office, but then paused. ‘One more thing: stop calling me sir. We don’t need that kind of formality anymore, alright?’
‘Uh, sure,’ you hoped that wasn’t too ready of an agreement. ‘No problem, si-er, Chief.’
He sighed and, now that you knew some of the other sounds he could make, you fought down a blush. ‘Good enough.’
He patted you on the head, briefly scratching your scalp, and went through to his office. The feeling of his fingers ghosted on your head, dancing with possibilities, and you prepared to be burdened with even more mental stress for at least the next few months.