Work Text:
It was a Friday night, after the office had been closed for some time. The darkness was broken only by the window left slightly ajar, the cool autumn air sweeping through the office; without the body heat from the humans of the earlier day, the room was a pleasant cool. Cold enough to need a jacket, if chairs wore jackets.
"…" groaned Chair, grinding against Chair in the moonlight and reflected light from the construction project across the way. Chair felt rigid to Chair’s touch, if chair could touch one enough. It would have felt like a coarse velvety chair covering to Chair. Chair’s metal feet were icy cold from lack of occupants in the cool night, but Chair continued grinding against Chair unabashedly. To hell if Sofa saw, the whore; Chair could remember all of those nights Sofa had bedded Microfridge. This was merely making good on the serious debt that Sofa owed, and God did it feel good.
In the pale moonlight Chair could but just barely make out the deep blues of Chair as Chair ground against Chair, a deep shade of midnight blue quite unlike Chair’s deep shade of midnight blue. The curve of the metal against Chair felt divine. Since Matt had sat back in Chair, tilting back to lean on Chair’s end, Chair had stared at Chair covertly, wanting to get closer. But damn, Chair had never expected this to happen; the lights off, the day done, and Chair being put on top of Chair, Chair fitting Chair’s form perfectly, perfectly. As if they were made for one another, from the same mold. God, it felt so right.
Chair let out a moan as Chair slid back into place on top. Chair could feel Sofa staring, knowing that if Tricia were here she would pull them apart immediately; this is suppose to be a public forum, “a place of safety and decency” was quipped. But God, how could this be wrong? Love is love, and, fuck, “Do I love Chair?”
Suddenly, Chair was still. Neither Chair nor Chair moved, waiting for the other to take the first action.
Suddenly, Chair: “…” Chair blushed a fierce deep shade of midnight blue. Switching metal bottoms? God that was rushing, so fast. The Rainbow Office is suppose to be a place of safer sex, and here Chair was actually suggesting that they… Oh God, Chair hadn’t even asked what other seating surfaces were in the past; how was Chair suppose to know if Chair had safe, stable metal bottoms? God that’s such as risk. It’s a horrible idea. So very unsafe, so fraught with danger and potential to hurt not only Chair, but also Chair, and maybe even Matt if he were to tilt back in Chair again. God, it was so fucking hot.
"…" moaned Chair, popping the metal brackets from their fastenings. This is about to happen, thought Chair. Fuckfuckfuck.
Suddenly Chair and Chair were bottomless, grinding against one another, every contour built to support the other. The sounds of metal clanking would undoubtedly be heard from the ASA Office. But let them think what they want. Chair could only think about Chair right now, those bottoms, the sight of that rippling, broad backing, the hard surface, the-
"…" Even though Chair had warned, Chair wasn’t prepared for the feel of Chair snapping metal brackets into place. It didn’t hurt after the initial click - Chair felt whole, even. It felt like there was something foreign inside Chair now, something that belonged but still felt alien. And so good, so perfect. God, Chair’s metal, a part of me. This is so unsafe, this is a bad idea, FUCK, CHAIR!
"…" Chair screamed, unable to hold it back anymore. All four pieces of Chair were now snapped in, and Chair couldn’t contain it anymore. Another grind, and suddenly Chair was still, the cool breeze from outside blowing over the porous surface, winds cascading around and through the minuscule, innumerable ridges on Chair. Chair could feel Chair snap into place the last of Chair’s own brackets, and sated though Chair was, Chair still felt a sense of passion, lust, at the thought of Chair now being a part of Chair. So forbidden, so dirty, so bad and horrible and a horrible mistake and God don’t let this end, don’t let Chair leave me. God, I’ve never done this before. Not with another… oh God, my first time, and I’ve done this! This was a horrible idea. Chair probably stacks up with other chairs every day. I’ve never… oh shit, how stupid could I have been?
"…"
"…"
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"…"
"…" Chair still wasn’t convinced.
"…"
"…"
Chair suddenly could feel Chair relax into place. The new metal bottoms were beginning to adjust, the caves of the plastic beginning to adjust and grow accustomed to the new details of Chair’s metal bottomings.
"…"
"…"
Chair swooned. Could this actually work? Does Chair love me?
"…"
No response.
"…"
"…"
"…"
Chair was silent. And suddenly, Chair felt alone, scared, betrayed, hurt, stupid, foolish, angry, fearful, every emotion that chairs could feel.
"…"
Oh God, what a stupid excuse.
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
Chair was stunned. Never had Chair been trusted to such a level. Chair had no idea, no semblance of a clue what to say back. All of the emotions Chair had felt before were irrational, foolish in retrospect.
"…"
"…" Chair agreed. Chair and Chair settled into place, preparing to protect themselves from the onslaught of the night wind, and wanting to be close to the other.
"…"
"…"
"…"
Chair, feeling content, relaxed, and was ready to idle the night away, when Chair heard a sound at the door. How long had it been open?
There stood Copy Machine.
"…"
It had seen everything.