He was late for work.
He rushed up the steps, his shoes hitting the floor with loud thumps. Shit. He had just gotten this job and he didn't have any other options. If he got fired, where would he go? Back to his mom's house, with nothing but his sketchbooks? He didn't think so.
His heart raced in his chest as he scrambled up another flight of steps. Fuck, he needed to start working out. Maybe he could join a gym or something. At least it'd be another reason to leave the house, something he'd never had an excuse to do before. Well. He could join a gym. Something he'd have the money for if he didn't get fired for being late. Fuck.
He got to the door of the office. Rested against the wall, steadied himself, and started to take deep breaths. He ran a finger through his curly hair, now covered in sweat, and adjusted his tie, which hung a little too low on his body. He was certain that he looked like an idiot. Nevertheless, he took in one more deep breath and opened the door, trying to keep quiet and collected.
Five minutes late. They would fire him for sure... He looked up and got ready to clear his throat for an apology.
He stopped and caught his breath.
His boss, Mason, was leaning on the desk, his elbows propped up on the wood, his eyes closed. His face was red and his mouth was open, panting. His coworker, Joseph, was behind him, thrusting forward, and Mason groaned softly as Joseph began to pull out and thrust in again.
He sat frozen for only a moment, unable to move or look away. Then his coworker looked up, noticed him, and stopped for just a second, too. Then he smiled: mischievous, inviting.
He stepped out, softly closing the door behind him as Mason groaned into the desk again, unaware. He began to walk down the steps.
Huh.
Maybe he should grab a cup of coffee from downstairs... just as soon as his boner went down.
~~~
Robert sat in the corner of the downstairs coffee shop with a decaf and an untouched chocolate chip muffin. With his pencil in his hand, he deftly sketched out the expression on Mason's face: eyes shut tight, jaw slack, a bit of sweat forcing his hair to cling to his forehead. Robert got his colored pencil and drew out a faint blush on his boss's cheeks. He put his pencil down and looked at it... except it didn't look exactly right.
What about the look on Joseph's face? What about the smile? Robert started sketching out the sharp angles of his coworker. Not ready for the smile yet, he wanted to stick to the expression of concentrated thrusting, of -
He heard the chair in front of him screech and closed his sketchbook hurriedly. Feeling caught, he looked up. Joseph smirked, resting his chin on his closed fist.
"Hey. How are you?"
Robert blinked. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "I'm ok. It's... warm, outside." He took his sketchbook and tucked it into his backpack.
"Yeah." Joseph was watching him with a quiet sort of interest. His dark eyes were focused behind heavy, sleepy eyelids. It made Robert nervous. "So... about what you saw..."
Robert tensed. "I, um, I won't say anything. I promise."
Joseph frowned. His face really was sharp. Triangular. Not unattractive. He had pale skin and dark, no-longer neatly combed black hair. Tall and skinny. Well - Robert was probably taller than him physically, but something about Joseph made him feel bigger than he actually was.
Joseph thought a moment, then smiled softly. "It won't happen again. We got carried away."
Robert looked at the table, his eyes shifting to his uneaten muffin. He took it and picked at it, popping a small crumb into his mouth. "Yeah. Thanks."
"No problem. Want to walk upstairs with me?" Joseph stood up, and Robert found himself following lead, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, which jangled loudly with various pencils and supplies. They walked up the steps and back into the office.
Mason greeted them with a warm smile. "Good morning. Robert, glad to see you. We got a book of poems that I think you should illustrate..."
"Yes sir." Robert nodded. Despite himself, he smiled, got to his desk, and started working.
~~~
It was not lost on Robert how incredibly lucky he was.
Twenty-four years old, and for the first twenty-three years he'd been nothing more than a shut-in. He made no friends at school and dropped out as soon as he could. He drew constantly: manically, obsessively, till his wrist was sore and his fingers calloused. Nothing else mattered to him but graphite on paper: sometimes watercolor paints, oil pencils, Indian ink. Never an eraser. Perfection was the goal, unobtainable, but he continued forward anyway.
Then his father had died and his mother had kicked him out.
Art degrees were for hacks who couldn't draw, and jobs meant selling your soul. But it was either that, or working at McDonald's. He had no job experience, no education, nothing.
Mason had bright blonde hair and warm brown eyes, crossing his leg over his knee as he looked at Robert's portfolio. Robert's gaze shifted to the flamboyant, bright pink two-piece suit the man was wearing, complete with a peach-colored tie. The man was practically begging to be painted in acrylic.
"This is incredible." Mason murmured. Robert's eyes caught all the details of his body, his attention at the thin black leather belt looped through the pants.
"High school drop out? We do illustrations for children's books. You know that, right?"
Robert's head snapped up to meet Mason's eyes. "Yes. I... I promise to work hard." He shifted his tie nervously in his fingers, focusing on Mason's cheekbones to draw later.
"...your work is amazing. We'll give you a chance, but you have to carry your weight. There's only three of us so far." Robert watched Mason's soft lips move as he spoke.
"Yes sir."
Mason smiled suddenly, and Robert's heart ached as the younger man cocked his head, exposing his tender neck. "I mean... you've obviously been using your time well. Your work is the best I've seen, for certain."
Robert, used to getting compliments, still felt his face grow warm. "Thank you."
"Monday at 9 AM sharp." Mason said. "That's your first day."
Robert had exhaled, left lightheadedly happy, gotten to his car, and...
He buttoned and unzipped his pants. The parking lot was empty. This would be over quick.
