Chapter Text
The number of voices in the hallway of the office had to be criminal.
The morning rush on Monday was obnoxious, yes, but never like this. It’s like everyone in the company had to be outside their respective offices or meetings to converse on the second floor of this office. You had to squeeze past three separate groups of people just to get to your office.
You could have been to the office earlier, if it was not for a certain IT-certified partner of yours, asking, more so begging, you to spend another night with you. As much as you loved their wide green eyes looking at you, like you carried the sun and personally delivered it to them. You had to deny Mac this one privilege.
A sigh leaves your lips; it was not the time to be grumpy; you had many things on the docket to take care of, including going through those dam survey reviews. That could be the reason the halls were filled, people avoiding the inevitability of reading how their coworkers truly feel about them. Not only did HR and corporate want all associates of their respective departments to read the reviews, but to “select” the ones to be plastered on the website. To show how “good” the ecosystem at Valdivian is.
Slipping into your office, a breath leaves your lungs, finally. You can relax, taking a seat at your desk, and your eyes catch something.
Crouton and Soup. The toy otters from the aquarium were resting on the desk with a green sticky note.
“They missed their other parent, so I wished to return them to their new home. As intended on Saturday.”
The smile spreading across your lips is rivaling the light brought at the end of a tunnel. Your eyes zip around the office. Mac’s laptop was on the table near the couch, their phone, and a notebook. But no Mac. They must have gotten coffee…
“Wait a fucking minute!” You shot right up, grabbing your office keys and wallet, speeding up to walk out of your office. You had to speak to Kopi. To confirm your suspicion.
Opening your office door quietly, the hallway traffic was much decreased; still, some employees purposely avoided going into their offices or opening their emails for the survey, but that was not the point of this. Speedwalking your way to the elevators, hoping, no silently praying not to bump into anyone to drag this out. Your body was still somewhat sore, and the last thing you needed was extended small talk.
Additionally, you did want to see Mac…they were not in the office when you came in, and the little voice in your head was nagging to see their face again. To kiss their cheek and greet them good morning. Ah, the dream.
Matter of fact, you barely slept much last night. You did send the picture of you both from the date to Skylar, who promptly blew up your phone. Waking up this morning at 6 AM to messages of “Did they blow your back out?”
“Yeah, they blew your back out.”,
“Do you want the red colored painkillers or the white ones? Does color even matter?”
“You just earned me $45 BTW; lunch could be on me…unless you have someone else to go to lunch with :3 ;).”
You just had to love her. You did not even answer texts. So much so that she called you twice on the way to work. The nerve of this woman.
Entering the elevator, you leaned against the cool metal, eyes fluttering shut. A moment of peace before the day can get more chaotic.
“You know those hickeys are super convincing that they did in fact blow your back out.” Your eyes did not even need to open to know who was speaking to you.
“Good morning Skylar.”
“Good morning to you, my sleepy, and well-rested [Name]. How was your weekend, hm?” You could hear the smile in her voice.
Leaning your head upward, and opening your eyes, she was smiling proudly. You did not even have anything witty to say.
“Is it that bad?”
“Well, no…but dam you know?”
Beat of silence passes…
You both break into laughter, Skylar scoots herself beside you, fixing your collar and mummering. “If you look like this, you can imagine what Mac is going to look like.”
“You just said it does look that bad!”
“NO! I said Well, dam, it doesn’t look terrible like you got mauled or anything, but you can definitely tell.”
A groan leaves your lips; Skylar pats your back, shaking her head in condolence. “But it is nice knowing my sweet [Name] finally got their date and got laid!”
“God, you sound like a mom. Also, stop talking so loudly about this; HR has eyes and ears everywhere.”
Your eyes drift up to the camera in the corner of the elevator, the true mystery was not if it was on or not, but if the dam thing even worked. It looked prehistoric.
“But seriously, how was it? Hm?” She was going to bug you, but it was nice that she cared genuinely, not out of gossip but rather to just make sure you’re okay.
“It was…nice…and that is all I’m going to say about it…”
“For now, right? Oh, come on! What about the details of the date? I tried peeking into your office, but I didn’t want to startle Mac.” Skylar shook your arm lightly, pulling the sleeve of your button-up. A simple shrug and sigh will not shake her off, for now, the least you could give her was that you enjoyed the date.
“Look, I’ll tell you after lunch, but for now…just know I enjoyed it. My cheeks still hurt from smiling.” Cheerful as ever, Skylar clasped her hands, throwing them around you, laughing, repeating a chant and praise about “you are going to be in love! I just know it!” She even went as far as claiming to be “a special thanks” at your wedding.
As much as you wanted to grind your teeth and swat her away, you cherished whatever her…enthusiastic happiness for you in your dating/love life would be. The elevator doors open, stepping out one after another, splitting ways, as Skylar had a meeting with Ms. Willi. A big name on the corporate side of the company, or someone to keep your name and face off their desk, apparently, with how reluctant she was to leave the elevator.
However, you needed to speed down the hall to the cafeteria and company café to ask Kopi important questions. You need to know, since Mac is not being helpful with your new curiosity. Did they drink coffee, or was it whatever Kopi made they’d drink? Honestly, this is also a way to procrastinate a bit from work. You had a meeting with a representative from customer service about the app and getting some representative numbers on their behalf for the “text” function of the app to work.
One of the key points of this whole project was the consumer function to speak to any representative of a certain department to help make their consumer needs be “easy, simple", and more specifically, as Valdivian’s CEO wanted it. “Perfect”. A real pain in the ass because it meant coding and encrypting each representative’s desk phone number and their email into the application; any misplaced number meant instant redo.
So, this was procrastination.
Ah, finally, your eyes settled on Kopi as she handed a customer their cup of coffee; her eyes lit up seeing you, but a hint of mischievous activity struck first.
“I know exactly why you are here, Mac already forewarned me. All I can say is Mac makes an order here.”
You didn’t even get a word in, not even a syllable. You open your mouth, close it, pinch your nose bridge, and rub your temples in the span of less than a minute.
“You knew why I came here; you can at least let me order the same thing as them then.”
Kopi stares at you, surprised. The gears in her head turn before she turns around and returns with a cup of something.
"Enjoy your order. Also, good luck with customer service! And please come by to Roofbucks again for all your coffee needs.”
You turn away, walking back to your office, taking a sip of whatever liquid Kopi gave you, the taste hits your lips and tongue. Your brow furrows, trying to conjure what the hell this taste is.
Re-entering your office again, your eyes spotted the sight that made your heartbeat oh so faster, made your fingers tingle, and made the butterflies in your stomach flutter on rapid alert.
They were sitting there, sleeves rolled up to their elbows, the iconic sleeve tattoos you wish to memorize were on display. Mac looked effortlessly ethereal…and sexy. Definitely sexy. It is not just because you slept with them over the past weekend.
Your staring must have had an effect because your “assistant” waved a paper for you to catch your attention.
“Your earlier claims of catching a cold were incorrect.” Stepping closer to their reserved spot on the couch, you took a seat next to them, placing the cup of whatever down on the coffee table.
“My what?”
“A few days ago, you claimed that if I kept staring at you or undressing you with my eyes, you would catch a cold. You are essentially stroking my internal hardware with your eyes. Or “fucking me” with your eyes. And I am not cold at all underneath your gaze.” This was all said with a straight face, until finally looking up from the papers they had scattered over the table, they grinned.
Cheeky, cheeky nerd.
Your undereye twitched, eyes narrowed. It was a taste of your own medicine if you think about it. No time to worry, because Mac’s hands found your face, bringing you close, and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. In the softest voice imaginable, they speak directly to your ears and soul.
“Good morning [Name]. How was your sleep? Roni and I did miss you.” Your face was still in slight shock. You knew you said being “private” was fine or not, but the PDA was a sweet addition.
Mac’s hands fall from your face and back to the log reports scattered on the desk. They hummed a tune not recognizable to you, but it was comforting. After a moment of shock, you snap out of it and get up to get your computer to settle back with them.
"I slept good, and it's nice to know Roni missed me." You muttered back, but work echoed back into your mind.
“So, the customer service representatives will either email or request appointments for us to get their information to integrate into the application. I already talked to Phoenicia about gathering groups to make this faster than doing singular appointments.”
“Agreed.” Mac’s hand, warm, placed on your thigh, their thumb tapping slowly. Mac’s eyes scanned the documents, focus split between you. You settled into a good rhythm and flow of work; you finished a few tasks you had left from the prior week to work on before. The serenity was welcoming.
“Oh, and I wanted to remind you to do the survey for the company. It would be best to do it before 3 pm, that’s when the servers will be temporarily closed for maintenance,” Mac stated, leaning back onto the couch. Not removing their hold on you, using their free hand, Mac grabbed, opened their laptop, found the survey, and started working on it. The wonder of it all was that they did not want to stop touching you.
Even the day before, you noticed Mac liked touching you. Their hands somehow found a way to touch you, even in moments like this, their hands, now that they have permission and an “allowed” want to touch you, having a connection beyond a “professional” sense. To Mac, even feeling the sensation of your skin underneath theirs, to have their fingertips graze against the plains of your skin was a spark of electricity that constantly stayed within their mind.
After you left yesterday, Mac stared at the ceiling, dizzy and drunk on the texture, the grooves, the curve, and the plush of your skin. It wasn’t even an inherent sexual thing, just that Mac liked touching you.
“Mac? You okay?”
“OH! Sorry, I was just thinking of you. As silly as it sounds, I do like having an image of you imprinted within my systems.”
“Oh, so now I am a constant on your mind?”
“As the variable that determines the outcome of my day, down to the detail.” They grinned, their fingers squeezing your thigh.
“Devil is in the details then.”
“And I want to keep every detail, burn it into my diodes. However, as much as I want to continue teasing you with how often your description enters and leaves my memory and RAM. We do need to do this survey and then move on with the applications with customer service. The more efficient we are, the more likely I can have more chances to keep processing and drawing your image to my memory bank.”
“Alright, flirting on the job will be paused for now.” You pulled the survey up from your email, and the questions were generic. ‘How would you rate your employer?’, or ‘In a paragraph or less, detail your work experience within your current department’. Snitch questions if you tried hard enough.
Mac did the survey too. The silence was welcoming; you both spent time before the chaos of others to ruin it. Occasionally, you’d steal a small look at their side profile. It was criminal how gorgeous Mac was, their glasses low on their nose bridge, their nose scrunched while reading the bizarre prompts. The multi-task monarch they were, easily holding your thigh within the warmth of their hand, the other scrolling with the trackpad to efficiently answer questions.
“Eyes on the screen. Unless you can read and perceive my responses through the reflection of my glasses, I suggest you stop trying to initiate something with your eyes again [Name].”
“Oh, sue me for not being subtle then.”
“I will be assured the court will find your opening statement entertaining. But please focus. I don’t want my boss losing focus over their dear assistant.” They shook their head, but their hand did squeeze your thigh in retaliation. In return, after speeding through the survey, you kissed Mac’s cheek.
Standing and wandering to your desk to be a “professional”, you did catch how they did take a brief pause, a blush blooming on their face. Mac’s hands felt electric when meeting their cheeks. “God, who programmed you to flirt like this? I swear you must be following some kind of manual or look straight at my hardware.”
“Ironic since I have seen you naked, Mac.”
“The irony here is how our dynamic has flipped.” You shrugged at your desk, connecting your laptop to your monitor to read through a few emails and get some more units added to the application.
“Oh, Mac, you have no idea…” You whispered under your breath. Your eyes flicker to their face, and oh that face…
Their eyes were already on you, like they were always, a matter of fact, Mac’s eyes never left. Why would they? The connection was strong; it was scary how happy your heart was. Somewhere in your mind, you were waiting for something to shatter, to break into a million pieces to ruin this.
“Take a picture….it will last longer.” You whisper, your false sense of being “nonchalant” was not helping; your heartbeat rang in your ears. Mac only smiled.
“Already have. But a compilation or gallery would be more acceptable.”
The art of being subtle was a book or novel in your library, apparently.
Keep holding your breath; at some point, you will exhale and see everything at full scale. But for now, you didn’t want to, too scared to exhale and lose this. Returning your gaze to your monitor, you ran through all applications and processes needed.
‘Place a pause in your love life [Name]. job first.’
The rest of the workday ran slowly, but a slowness that never felt like a toll on your spine. Sure, speaking to over 15 groups of 10 people for customer representatives was tiring. Especially with how often you had to repeat yourself.
“No, that is not the information we wanted.”
“Please just…just the desk phone you have and your email. Not your social security.”
“No, this is not an audit.”
And poor Mac, they sat beside you, encouraging as ever, recording every interaction, but their patience grew thin.
Entering your office, it was 4:18 PM, the workday was over, Skylar emailed you about the ratings from the office, and you barely read it. Your eyes were exhausted, tired, and you needed a nap. Plopping yourself down on the couch, Mac followed, parking their chair and scooting up beside you.
The door was closed, the blinds were drawn, the only light was the lamp left on your desk and the table in front of the couch. Mac cuddled up beside you, pulling you into their embrace, leaning your head onto their shoulder.
Their arms outstretched to hold you, a kiss was pressed to your temple.
“A reboot is optimal for this…” They whispered. You hummed, yawning slightly. Your hands felt the echoing memory of writing so many names and numbers. Excessively warm hands cupped your cheeks; a grin graced your lips.
“A reboot would be perfect; how do I unlock such an upgrade?”
“Not an upgrade per se. Just a routine clean-up to keep your systems running at a rate above satisfactory.” You could feel their breath ghosting your lips, your eyes fluttered closed, and Mac wanted to burn this moment into their CPU. The exhaustion and annoyance that ate at their processors for the last two and a half hours were wiped gone. Like clearing the cache of a PC after years of use, it was like a breath of fresh air.
Their lips weren’t hesitant, but not in a rush for the possibility of more. Instead, Mac was calculating you, their lips kept you anchored, a sound left your throat at the contact. A slow exhale left your nose.
Tilting their head, Mac kissed you as this moment was their everything. Your hands come to their biceps, gripping the fabric of their shirt, rolled up previously, steady and sturdy hands angle your head, a simple thing, but it meant wonders to you.
The pullback was brief, almost cruel, but the windswept look on their face held its weight in gold.
“Reboot complete. Would you declare it was satisfactory?” Mac whispered, their lips pecking your cheek, they pull back only slightly.
“Very. Unfortunately, it was only a reboot.”
“Oh, I assure it can be more thorough; however, this one was just for this moment. A surprise reboot.”
Your breathing evened, but you did pinch their cheek as they teased.
“But thank you, Mac, I did need that burst of energy.”
“Perfect, do not let it go to waste. We still have to process a few more units for the application, and we also have peer review again in 4 days, 13 hours, and…34 minutes.”
Your eyes deadpanned on them. Mac just laughed.
“Guess you are thorough.”
“In everything, you should be very understanding and knowledgeable in that.” A spark ran up your spine. But a smile did grace your lips from them. God, your poor heart could not take this.
Now you just had to wait to “exhale”