Chapter Text
Damien
Parties were always a mixed bag for Damien. He loved spending time with his friends and celebrating events, but dammit if they weren't always so overstimulating. Holiday parties specifically were even harder, with Christmas lights strung up and blinking, catchy but overplayed carols just a tad too loud in every room, and of course the sound of fifty different conversations occurring simultaneously.
There was a reason Damien often chose to leave parties early, staying a respectful amount of time before saying his goodbyes. It was always a relief when he was able to retreat to his home where he lived alone, save for his two wonderful cats. Though their purring could be loud, it was the exact opposite of overstimulating.
But Damien couldn't dip out of this party, as much as he wanted to, because he'd promised to be the designated driver for a few different people. It was nearly Christmas, the roads and traffic were terrible, and he didn't want them to have to deal with getting Ubers. Which is why he offered up the perks of his sobriety.
He was regretting it now as he took a break in the Smoffice kitchen because it was quieter than the rest, seriously considering how terrible of a friend it would make him if he flaked and just Venmoed the people he was going to drive enough money to cover the costs of rideshare.
Damien had just leaned up against the counter, taking a sip of eggnog, appreciating the relative silence, when Angela stumbled into the kitchen.
Literally.
She tripped over her own feet, giggling as she looked up and smiled at Damien, leaning against the doorway.
"Hey! I saw you come in here, what's up?" she asked in a cheery voice, taking a large drink from her glass of mulled wine that Damien had been warned to stay away from, as it was pretty high in alcohol content.
By the flush of her cheeks and her inability to remain upright, Damien could tell it was nowhere near her first glass. And since Tommy was also making up cocktails, he assumed it wasn't the only kind of alcohol she'd had.
"Hey, not much. Just needed a bit of a break," Damien replied glancing away from her pretty eyes, bright with holiday cheer. "How're you?"
"So good! This has been the best party. Best year, honestly. I love working here so much. And the people are amazing. You're amazing, you know that?" Angela rambled, her words slightly slurred together with how fast she was speaking and the alcohol in her system.
Damien felt a pleasant warmth settle over his body at her words, and he knew he was blushing as well. "Thanks, Ang. You're amazing, too."
"No, you don't get it," she said, shaking her head and taking a step towards him, losing her balance on the way so she essentially fell against Damien.
He caught her easily, holding her up with an arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand hovering with no idea where he should put it. "Woah, Angela, you good?"
He felt his heart rate accelerate at having her literally smushed up against his chest, and Damien knew he should let go. But he didn't. He excused his actions, telling himself that she would fall if he did so. Which was probably true, but it was also selfishly not his primary reason.
"I'm fucking superb. That's a fun word. Superb," Angela said, giggling as she gripped his arm with one hand, the other still holding onto her wine glass. "You're really strong."
God, she was going to kill him. "Maybe you're just light," he teased back, trying for casual, but it was really hard when her face was mere inches from his. Then he remembered what she'd been in the middle of saying when she'd fallen over. "And what don't I get?"
"Hm?" she intoned, her face scrunching up adorably.
"Just a moment ago, you said I 'don't get it', when I said you're amazing too."
"Oh, yeah. I mean that you're amazing amazing," Angela told him, a serious expression on her face, as if that should clear everything up.
"Okay? Thank you, again," Damien said, letting confusion color his tone even as he felt more affection for her swell in his chest.
"Like, I love you, Damien, cause you're really fucking amazing, and I'm glad I get to work here with you," Angela continued, not realizing the effect those words had on him.
He swallowed roughly as he replied, "I love you too, Anguhla."
It wasn't the first time they'd said those words to each other, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Still, it meant more to him than it ever would to her.
"I'm also glad we work together," he finished, needing to respond to the rest of her statement.
Yeah. They were coworkers. Damien felt like he could really use that reminder, because it did not end well the last time he fell for a colleague. Not that his other non-coworker relationships had been that much better, but still. He'd vowed to keep his personal life and his work life as separate as possible, and Angela, through no fault of her own, was really making that difficult.
And when she gave him a million dollar smile, Damien fought every instinct he had to lean in and find out what her lips felt like against his and if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.
But he didn't, because he could not, would not, be that guy. He'd be taking advantage of her for one with how drunk she was right now, and two, he'd ruin what had become one of his most important relationships through such a selfish act.
"You do?" Angela asked in response, and Damien easily nodded.
"Of course I do, Ang. What's not to love?"
Jesus, he really needed to shut the fuck up. But he was kind of banking on the alcohol to keep her from realizing the full significance of his words.
Angela's smile settled into something softer, and she leaned her head against his chest, now squeezing her hand under his arm to wrap it around his waist.
Oh. She was hugging him, Damien realized after a moment, and he allowed his arms to envelop her in a hug too, taking care to not knock into her drink.
Damien closed his eyes, letting himself indulge in how wonderful it felt to hold her so close. He didn't know when or if he'd ever get this chance again, and he'd regret it forever if he didn't appreciate it.
He tried to remind himself that friendship was not less than romance, and that having a close platonic relationship with her could be just as important.
It helped a little bit, but even if he knew that was true, Damien was fooling himself if he thought he could ever stop wishing for something more.
When Angela pulled back, she yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. "What time is it?"
Damien pulled his phone out of his pocket. "11:24. You headin' home soon?" he asked gently, still keeping one arm around Angela to hold her steady.
"Yeah, I ordered a lasagna and it got dropped off like an hour ago, so I need to get that before it gets cold."
Damien laughed, amused that she still hadn't kicked that habit, and that she believed the food would still be hot. "Who's your ride?"
"My roommate," Angela mumbled. "She said she'd pick me up after her shift ends at 11:30."
Tilting his head to the side, Damien couldn't help but feel a little baffled. "If you couldn't leave until she picked you up, why would you send food to your house as an incentive to leave?"
Angela shrugged her shoulders and grinned up at him. "Pasta," she said. It shouldn't have been a sufficient explanation, but it was Angela, so Damien figured that was the only reason she needed while drunk.
With another short laugh, Damien gripped her waist a little more sturdily and took the wine glass out of her hand, setting it on the kitchen counter. "Come on, I'll walk you out."
She made a little perturbed noise, reaching for the glass as Damien shuffled them towards the door. "I was gonna finish that," she complained.
With a smile, Damien passed it back to her, since she didn't seem on the verge of alcohol poisoning or anything. And besides, he trusted her to know her own limits more than he did. "Fine, but you're probably gonna regret it in the morning."
Angela stuck her tongue out at him before downing the rest of the glass, making a satisfied noise and licking her lips in a way that short-circuited Damien's brain.
He really needed to get his mind out of the gutter.
"Do you have all your stuff? Do you need to grab anything?" he asked, trying to keep his thoughts busy with the practical details.
"Um," Angela started, squinting her eyes in thought. "I need my purse and my jacket. But I don't remember where I put them."
Of course she didn't, Damien thought, realizing that he couldn't keep a smile off his face for more than a few seconds while talking to a drunk Angela. Not that it was much easier with a sober one.
"Are they at your desk?" he suggested, certain that he hadn't noticed her bring them into the main party area earlier.
She snapped her fingers, grinning. "Yes! See, that's why we pay you the big bucks."
Damien snorted. "Oh, I'm on your payroll, am I? What's my job title exactly? 'Purse Finder Extraordinaire'?"
Angela giggled, and god, he loved that sound. "I was thinking 'Angela's Assistant'. Double A for short."
Damien laughed at her joke, but he'd honestly be willing to throw his current career away for that position.
He led her out of the kitchen towards her desk space, glad that no one was in that area of the office to see him with his arm around her. There was no way he'd be able to keep his crush a secret if he was asked a single question about it.
When they reached Angela's desk, she sunk into her chair, bending down to fish her purse out from under the desk. She held it up triumphantly after sitting up again, and passed it over to Damien.
He slung it over his shoulder, and then gestured to the back of her chair where her leather jacket was draped.
He watched Angela struggle for a couple moments trying to get her arms in the correct holes, before he couldn't take it anymore and began helping her.
"There ya go," he said, guiding her hand into the correct spot, trying not to let his touch linger against her fingertips.
"Thanks! You're a great trip sitter," Angela told him as he helped her with the other arm.
"Ang, you're drunk, not high. Unless you are, and those brownies were laced with something stronger than dark chocolate chips," he teased, smiling down at her, feeling a little weak in the knees when she grinned back at him, the tip of her tongue peeking out between her teeth.
"Nah, but I know who I'm calling if I ever do need one."
"Out of all your friends, you'd call me? You're not worried I'd send you into a bad trip by trying to describe the plot of a JRPG to you?" he asked, reaching out a hand to pull her out of the chair.
She took it, and once she was standing again, she took another step forward until they were practically chest to chest again.
Damien should've known Angela lost all sense of personal space when inhibited. Not that he minded one bit, but it did make it difficult to keep from slipping his arms around her waist again. She wasn't currently falling over though, so he couldn't justify the action.
"You're who I'd call for a lot of things, and I like hearing you talk about those video games. You make them sound fun."
She was smiling while she said that, before her mood changed on a dime, a frown taking over. "I wish I understood them more, though. It's probably more annoying for you to try and explain that stuff to me."
"Hey, no it's not," Damien told her firmly. "Explaining games and stuff to you is one of my favorite things. You get so animated and excited about it, even if it's not something you fully understand."
That pulled a shyer smile onto her face once more. "You mean that?"
"Hand to whatever," he said, placing one hand over his heart and lifting the other in the air. And man, was it true. The little pout of her lips when she lost or didn't quite understand—he always wanted to kiss it away. But the smile when she beat him or another cast member was even more precious, and he'd always be unapologetically happy to witness that.
Angela let out a little sigh. "You're way too sweet, you know that?"
Damien could feel his cheeks heat up, and he ducked his head. "You give me too much credit."
"You don't give yourself enough," she replied, putting on the sternest expression she could muster.
Wanting to believe her, even just for a moment, Damien didn't disagree and just let himself revel in that. He hoped that he would never be anything less than a good friend towards Angela, and she would always know how much he admired her.
That meant he had to watch his words and actions closely, and stay on his best behavior. He couldn't let his feelings make him slip up and taint her perspective of him.
A shiver ran down Damien's spine when Angela slipped her hand into his, pulling him towards the exit. Her skin was warm and soft, and though it wasn't the first time they'd grasped hands, he didn't think they'd ever held hands before.
"Come on," she urged. "My roommate's gonna be here soon."
Damien easily followed after her, knowing that she could probably walk off the edge of a cliff and he'd follow her over. Angela wouldn't even need to hold his hand, she'd just have to ask him nicely and he'd do anything she wanted.
When they stepped outside, the slightly cool breeze brushed over Damien's skin and he took a deep breath. It felt like the first full one his lungs had received since he'd entered the party, and his muscles relaxed just a little bit more.
"You like the cold, huh?" Angela commented, shaking their connected hands a bit to get his attention, and Damien automatically felt a bit warmer as he noticed her eyes cataloguing his movements.
Damien nodded. "Yeah. I mean, it's not even that cold, but it feels so good when it gets down in the sixties. I'd love to live somewhere cooler eventually. Rainy."
"Mm, yeah. I love the rain. It always smells so good. And when there's thunder and lightning, it's even better. I wish LA got more rain. Or snow. It's December, and there's no snow. Not fair. I've lived here my whole life, and I've never seen it snow."
Damien's eyebrows raised. "At all, or just here in California, you mean?"
Angela shook her head. "Never. Even traveling, I've never been someplace cold in the winter. What about you?"
"Well, I grew up in Georgia, so it didn't really snow there either, but I was able to see it on vacations or traveling to different states."
"What's it like?"
"I love it. It’s not like, Hallmark pretty and perfect and it's wet and hard to drive in. But sometimes, when it's falling in flakes that you can catch on your tongue, and it's sticking to the ground and sparkling in the sunlight, it feels like there's nothing more beautiful."
Now that he was thinking about it, Damien could easily picture one thing more beautiful. And it would be Angela with snowflakes contrasting with her dark hair and eyelashes, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. That would be a sight to behold.
But Angela in any climate was sure to take his breath away, just like she was doing now as she watched him, enraptured by his description of the snow. Her light brown eyes sparkled from behind her glasses in what little light the moon gave off, and he'd take that any day over snow in the sun.
"We should go," Angela said in a quiet voice.
Damien tilted his head to the side, not sure what she meant. "Hm? Go where?"
"See the snow," she replied as if it were obvious.
If any other person had said that to him, Damien would have immediately laughed, amused by their ridiculous drunk idea. But this was Angela proposing a trip to someplace cold, and she said that while still holding Damien's hand.
So, instead of joining in on the joke Angela was making, drunkenly or otherwise, he stood there silently watching her, unable to loosen his tongue. The idea of curling up with her in a cabin in front of a fireplace was just too appealing, and the daydream had fully whisked him away.
Angela was still looking up at him, and her mouth opened like she was about to break the silence when a bright light enveloped both of them. Angela's face scrunched up, and the hand that he had been holding went up to shield her eyes.
Damien squinted, shoving down the disappointment at not feeling her hand in his any longer, and turned to see a car pulling up to them, the headlights almost unbearably bright.
Her ride had arrived.
Truly superb timing, Damien thought sarcastically. Although, it probably was a good thing in the end, because he'd again been dangerously close to kissing her.
"Oh, it's my roommate," Angela told him, confirming his thoughts and meeting his eyes once more. "Thanks again, for everything."
"Yeah, of course. You're welcome," Damien replied, swallowing hard as he tried to hold the eye contact.
Before he could prepare himself, Angela's arms were around his neck, with her face tucked into the crook of it. He could feel her lips against his skin, and her breath gave him goosebumps as he tried to regulate his own.
"Merry Christmas," she whispered, her words unfreezing him enough to return the hug for the few more seconds she held onto him. He wished he could hold her tight and never let her go.
"Merry Christmas," he said as she pulled back. "And have a happy New Year too, in case I don't see you until after the break."
Angela rewarded him with another smile as she nodded and stepped towards the car, opening up the passenger door. "You too! Night, Dames, love you," she called out casually, climbing in with a little wave and turning to greet her roommate.
The door was closed behind her and the car was driving away before Damien was able to reply.
"Love you too," he whispered for only the wind to hear this time.