Casual Fridays (s/a)
A prompt was given to me on deviantart. it was:
-Ryden
-hat wearing
-piano playing
-a lovely girl named anja
-star watching
-Bright Eyes
-lake swimming
this was the product that came out of that prompt (:
It was all suits and ties and casual Fridays here. But on casual Fridays, everyone still wore a suit.
The copy machine was broken, so I had to print fifteen copies of the same paper on the floor printer. People were pissed because I was using all the ink. It was so mundane here. The same people, every day. Doing the same thing, every day. It was just like high school. When someone new came in, we sniffed them out and treated them like an outcast. Unless they showed us something that we liked, then they were welcomed with open arms.
It was a Friday when the awkward new manager came in; he transferred from another branch, and he was rejected. Long and lanky, brown hair, white as the fucking moon. Though my co-workers had already dubbed him an outcast, I had the urge to talk to him, make him feel slightly welcomed. Maybe because it was another casual Friday where we all wear our khaki suits, but he was wearing relaxed jeans and a fitted t-shirt.
I walked up to him proudly, knowing damn well who I was, how long I’d been here, and the kind of respect I deserved.
“Hey. You’re the new manager, right?” I asked, watching him as he struggled to hold what seemed to be a heavy box outside of his office. He nodded frantically, only in fear of dropping the box full of fragile trinkets and memories.
“Yeah. Mr. Ross. Or Ryan. Whichever one,” he panted, pushing through his office door. Lucky bastard. He’d just arrived here and he had an office. I’d been here for years and all I had was a cubicle decorated with cleverly written signs, and cliché “I hate Mondays” memorabilia.
“Mr. Ross, Ryan, I’m Brendon. Which branch did you transfer from?” I asked, helping him hold the box and carry it into his office. He sighed as we set it on his desk and smiled at me.
“It’s out east,” he said with a smirk, eyes traveling me up and down. Huh. He was gay. (Not like it made much of a difference to me. He was still my boss, any moves being made on him were off limits. I try to avoid lust in the work place.)
“Well, just wanted to tell you to watch your ass. These people can get pretty vicious.” I smirked, turning to walk away.
“Or I could just watch yours,” he called after me. I kept walking, prideful smile stuck arrogantly to my lips. I think I might start participating in casual Fridays.
--
“Bren, have you talked to the new manager yet?” Anja, the sweet girl in the next cubicle over asked, peeking over the top. I nodded, leaning back in my chair, I’m so cool, nothing can get to me. Except the watching eyes from Ryan’s office. I nodded at him and she turned around, and looked back at me, mouth agape.
“You totally have a thing. I don’t know what kind of thing, but you have some sort of monstrous thing going on with the new manager.”
I smirked, sitting up and looking at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar! Liar, liar, liar!” she said, getting up and coming into my cubicle. “What’s going on with you two? Tell me everything.”
I shrugged. “Not really much to tell. I introduced myself, told him to watch his ass around here, and he said he’d rather watch mine.” I grinned.
“Ugh! You’re so lucky! He’s gorgeous!” She smiled.
I shrugged again. “I might give him a chance,” I said, leaning back in my chair once again.
--
“Hey. Brendon, can I see you in my office?” Ryan called out onto the floor. I got looks from a fair amount of people as I walked the ten or so feet into Ryan’s office.
He closed the door behind me, and as I stood there, hip cocked slightly to the side, he gestured to the seat in front of his desk.
“Mr. Urie,” he said, formally.
I nodded. “Mr. Ross,” I replied.
“Go out with me, tomorrow night, alright?” he said, sitting behind his big professional desk.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think I’m gay?” I asked, trying to sound very nonchalant.
He raised his eyebrows at me. “Everything about you screams faggot. The way you swing your hips when you walk, the way you talk, the way you lick your lips because you think it’s sexy. You’re obviously gay.” He grinned.
I smirked back at him. “Yeah. So you caught me. I’m a fairy. But what makes you think I’d go out with you?” I said, leaning back.
“Because I’m your boss, and I control your pay check.” He smiled.
“Touché.” I grinned. “After work, your car. Take me somewhere nice,” I said as I stood up. “And by the way,” I continued, walking towards the door. “I’m not a cheap date.”
--
So, five rolled around, school's out, woo, whatever, whatever. I walked into Ryan’s office, sat down on the desk, and waited for him to finish getting ready to leave.
“Hurry up. I’m getting bored. And you’re my ride home, so if this date bombs, I wanna be able to get home with enough time to take a shower so I won’t have to wake up early tomorrow and take one.”
“C’mon,” he said, opening up the door for me. “Let’s go,” he said, and I walked out the door. I felt a sharp smack! on my ass and looked back at him. “Oh, and my dates never bomb.” He grinned.
--
It was bad. We were in a fucking park. It was very bad. And he was wearing this newsboy cap, and I was like, what the fuck. I mean, his company wasn’t bad. Just the choice of where he took me. I thought I’d been pretty clear that I wasn’t a cheap date. But he was a cheap bastard. I enjoyed it though.
We sat, swaying on swings, and he looked at me and smiled.
“You wanna do this again?” he asked, sounding less arrogant than he had the day before.
I nodded. “Yeah. Not what I’m used to, but it was fun,” I said, smiling back at him.
He got up and stood in front of the swing I was in, grabbing the chains, pulling me closer, and planted a soft kiss on my lips. I liked Ryan a lot.
--
“Brendon, my office,” Ryan said a few days later at work.
We’d gone out one or two more times after the first date, and we kept getting closer to each other.
I walked into his office casually, closing the door behind me, and greeted Ryan with a kiss.
“We’re going out tonight, okay?” He smiled.
I nodded. “’Course. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” He smiled and pressed a kiss to my lips.
--
After work, Ryan told me he’d pick me up at my house later. So, when eleven rolled around, I was pretty pissed ‘cause it looked like I just got stood up. Brendon-fucking-Boyd Urie does not get stood up. Especially not by skinny-ass pricks who wear floral dress-shirts.
So, I was getting ready to get out of my date clothes, put on some pajamas, when there was a knock at the door. Upon answering it I saw a skinny-ass prick in a floral shirt grinning at me.
“Ready?” he said, walking inside without an invitation. At least I knew he wasn't a vampire.
“It’s almost midnight,” I pointed out. “Where exactly are we going?”
He shrugged. “I told you. It’s a surprise.” He smiled and grabbed my hand, pulling me out to his car.
--
Fifteen minutes later, he had me blindfolded, walking outside, and it was fucking freezing. He sat me down on a blanket in some damp grass. Really fucking romantic, Ross.
I felt chapped lips on mine, and then he took off the blindfold. We were at a lake.
He was smiling like an idiot, all big and pretty, white teeth, pink lips, pale skin, contrasted with the dark brown of his hair.
“What d’you think?” He grinned, looking from me to the lake excitedly.
I nodded. “It’s… a lake.”
“Yeah.” He smiled.
“A body of water.”
“Mhm.”
“And it’s eleven forty-five at night.”
“Correct.” He smiled. The fuck, Ross.
“What are we supposed to do at a lake… at nearly midnight?” I asked, confused.
His smile got bigger. “Take off your clothes,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head.
“No fucking way,” I said, determined to win this.
He shook his head. “C’mon. It’ll be fun,” he said, pulling me to my feet. I sighed as I stripped down and walked with him to the water.
--
It was cold. Really, really cold. Ryan didn’t seem to mind, though.
He pulled me close, my breathing rapid, his just full of laughter, and he kissed me. He laced his fingers through my hair and pulled me under the water. Cold and shivering, and probably dying of hypothermia, I was happy. And even though both our heads were submerged under dirty water, and we were swallowing it up in the midst of a kiss, I felt just fine.
After breaking the kiss, we rose from under the surface, coughing up water, and he was smiling so big and bright, and he looked fucking beautiful in the moonlight with his wet hair and white chest.
“Ryan,” I smiled, watching him clear his lungs. “I think I’m in love with you.” I laughed.
“Good!” he coughed. “Then my plan is working!” He smiled, draping his long arms over my shoulders.
“Good God, I love you.” I smiled and kissed him for what must have been the millionth time this week. I’d only known him for five days.
--
We dragged our frozen bodies out of the water, and now I knew why he had the blanket there, because when we didn’t bother putting our clothes back on, he pulled me into him and wrapped the blanket around us. He placed a kiss on my wet lips, and then on my nose, and then on my forehead. He looked up, excited as ever, and smiled.
“Look at the stars,” he said, using his head to gesture upwards. My eyes followed and I smiled. Soon, a soft voice started in my ear. It was Ryan’s.
“I met you through a common friend, in the attic of my parent’s house… and though I didn’t know it then, I soon was finding out…” His voice was raspy, and a little off tune, and beautiful. “Oh, you are the roots that sleep beneath my feet, and hold the earth in place…,” he trailed off, just humming instead of singing.
“Keep singing.” I whispered. He nodded.
“Each time a faucet opens, words are spoken, the water runs away… and I hear your name. No, nothing has changed…,” he sang, just for me. “There was this book I read and loved, the story of a ship who sailed around the world and found that nothing else exists beyond his own two sails and wooden shell, and what is held within…,” he sang quietly, almost too quiet, so I leaned close to him. “All else is sure to pass, we clutch and grasp, and debate what's truly permanent… but when the wind starts to shift, well, there's no argument…”
I definitely loved him.
“Now, I sing and drink and sleep on floors, and try hard not to be annoyed by all these people worrying about me; so when I'm suffering through some awful drive, you occasionally cross my mind…” He paused and kissed me. “It's my hidden hope that you are still among them… Well are you? Oh, you are the roots that sleep beneath my feet, and hold the earth in place; each time a curtain opens, sunlight pours in, a lifetime melts away… And we share a name on some picturesque grave…” He ended the song, and pressed his lips to my forehead, eyes closed, nose to my hair, and I knew that this would be forever.
--
He drove me home; we still hadn’t bothered to get dressed, and we fell asleep together on my couch, under his blanket. It smelled like him.
I remember falling asleep with soft skin under my fingers, whispers of I love you’s and singing songs to fall asleep.
--
I woke up with still damp hair, Ryan sleeping peacefully under me, lips slightly parted. I lay with my face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, lips pressed to his collar bone.
After ten or so minutes of just lying on him, I felt his hands rubbing the small of my back, and he kissed the side of my head.
“Morning,” I mumbled into his neck.
“Hey.” He smiled, his voice raspy and barely there. “How long have you been awake?” he yawned.
I shrugged. “A couple minutes,” I said and kissed his neck.
“We’re still naked.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
I nodded. “Surprisingly not due to sex.”
“That’s only cause I didn’t think you were quite ready to be my bitch just yet,” he laughed. I pinched his hip, and he gave a little jump.
“I’m never the bitch.” I smirked.
--
After getting dressed, Ryan and I called into work on a personal day. It was the first time I’d missed work in two years.
Ryan was exploring my apartment, I was making waffles, and I soon heard him call my name from the stairs.
“What?” I asked, leaving my post at the toaster and climbing the eight stairs to the second floor hallway before turning into my bedroom.
He was sitting at my piano. Nothing much, just a small electric keyboard. He looked at me and smiled.
“Can you play this?” he asked happily. I nodded. “Come play me something,” he requested, and I obliged.
Sitting at the bench felt so familiar; it had been a while since I had stopped thinking about work to think about music. I let my fingers drag across the dusty keys before I started a song.
My fingers were dancing across the board, playing whatever chords they felt like, and it was all for Ryan. And because of that, I think it was the best thing I’d ever played.
His arms wrapped around my neck and his lips were pressed near my ear, and I could feel his eye lashes on my face. Perfection.
--
The next day at work I wore relaxed jeans and a fitted shirt. Ryan wore a floral dress-shirt, a vest, and jeans, and he looked perfect. It was just another casual Friday.
--
A/N: origional post can be found here 2,446 words.
and i owe another thing to my lovely beta meiloslyther. thanks for being awesome and dealing with my terrible grammar :D
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