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“Mr. Milchick?” Mark asked. He had left the office with the express purpose of finding Milchick and nearly gotten lost in the halls. He guessed that was fine though, Milchick usually appeared whenever they were lost or distressed. As long as they weren’t trying to break any rules, then Graner came.
Milchick was standing facing the wall. Mark thought he saw him flipping through a book but when he turned smoothly around, smiling, his hands were behind his back so he couldn’t see. “Mark S! Aren’t you supposed to be working now?”
Mark blinked. “Um, yeah but-”
“I only ask because you’ve been less than productive lately and that's not like you. We’re starting to get a little worried!”
“Who’s…we? You and-?”
Milchick smiled. “We’re all worried about you, Mark.”
Mark waited for further elaboration but, getting none, he nodded quickly. “Yeah, alright. I was kinda worried too because…well…three times this week something weird’s happened. Whenever I come into work my eyes are all...pink?”
Mr. Milchick looked concerned for him though he took a notable step backwards. “I don’t think your outie would come into work ill, do you? And he, ostensibly, looks in the hypothetical mirror everyday before coming in! He isn’t worried about it, so I don’t think we should worry about it.” He said before adding “I need you to know that that was not a fact I just told you about your outie. It’s just a fun little scenario.”
Mark nodded, fidgeting. He got the feeling he’d interrupted something and that Milchick was annoyed. He got that feeling sometimes even though Milchick never really looked or sounded annoyed. It was weird. “I get it. It’s just…it doesn’t hurt or anything but Dylan got Irving thinking it was contagious and all so..I was just…” He glanced at Milchick then quickly looked at the floor, suddenly feeling very stupid. “Never mind, I just…”
Milchick was quiet. Then, “If you'd like for me to take a look I could-”
“Yes.” Mark said quickly, stepping forward. “Please.”
Milchick looked less than enthused to be so close to Mark but he didn’t look completely disgusted. When he tilted Mark’s chin upwards his body relaxed in notable relief.
“Oh, definitely not sick. Whew!” Milchick said, moving Mark’s face so he could take a better look at him.
“Whew!” Mark laughed nervously. He was nervous. More nervous than he’d been before because he felt like Milchick’s touch may be electrocuting him but in a…good way. A soft way.
Mark hadn’t had much opportunity to be touched gently by someone. In fact, he didn’t think he’d ever been touched gently, not the way Milchick was touching him now. Searching with something approaching care for how to fix this, to help him.
“When something irritates the eye, the eye tears up.” Milchick said, voice a bit softer due to not wanting to yell in Mark’s face. That was nice. Cobel would have definitely yelled in his face. Milchick’s hands smelled nice, like something. Like a…sharp fruit. Though he thought maybe Milchick wouldn’t like anyone saying something about him was sharp. He’d probably prefer razzle fruit or popping fruit. Sharp things were dangerous and Milchick wasn’t dangerous. Even when he had to punish you, he was mostly disappointed and tired and you felt bad because you made him stay there with you. Or at least Mark did, once all the fear was gone.
“It isn’t something you have to worry about here of course!” Milchick said, mistaking Mark’s silence for concern. “Nothing on the severed floor is any more irritating than the errant worker goofing around or a colleague’s gentle teasing!”
“Tear up? Like…cry? I was crying?” Mark asked, furrowing his brow.
“No!” Milchick said, shaking his head and chuckling at Mark as if he were a small, charming child. “Definitely not. If you were experiencing any emotional distress we would send you for a wellness check, wouldn't we?”
“Right,” Mark said, relieved. Then he remembered that Milchick was looking at him so he fought through the fear of being so close to another person and that person being Milchick in order to steal a bit of…well not steal, he'd never! He just…it felt like stealing. It felt sneaky, to be feeling like this when he knew Milchick probably didn’t feel the same. Milchick probably touched people all the time - was touched by people all the time. He was looking at Mark now with the same professional care as always. But he was looking at him. So Mark looked back.
Milchick’s eyes were not warm but they looked black in the light they were in and they were kindly half-lidded like in some portraits Mark had seen of saintly corporate giants draped in shimmering cloth. He looked like that. He was looking at Mark like that, like a lamb who’d strayed but whom he'd love anyway because he’d loved him before, when he worked well and without complaint - whom he’d try his best to tolerate until he could love him again.
Milchick’s smile widened very slightly in time with his eyes, silently asking Mark something he desperately wished he knew the answer to. Instead, Mark just blinked, trying to take the image in. The full image. Him and Milchick standing together in the buzzing white halls, Milchick’s careful hands cupping Mark’s undeserving face (when had that word come up? It was right, but when had he thought it?) and Milchick’s ever watchful eyes observing him, just him. They only stood that way a few seconds but it felt longer.
“So…” Mark said, not knowing what to do about it all.
Milchick’s hands left Mark’s face and Mark immediately missed their warmth. “It’s probably allergies!” The other man concluded, winking in a playfully conspiratorial nature. “Don’t tell anyone, but I hear it’s allergy season.”
“Allergies?” Mark said. He knew about allergies in passing. There was some incident…
“It means the air is irritating.” Milchick explained and Mark was glad it wasn’t one of those things he wasn’t supposed to ask more questions about. “Nothing to be done about it outside, but in here you don’t have to worry about it. And if you’re asking me? You shouldn’t worry about it!”
“Right.” Mark said, nodding. Outside sounded awful. He was glad to be inside, away from allergies and irritants. He wanted to ask Milchick if he was allergic to anything because the thought of Milchick having pink eyes and suffering was awful but he knew that’d be too much and it’d make the other man go suddenly very distant and calm.
“Alright?” Milchick asked. “Ready to get back to work?” He asked, raising his voice slightly to motivate Mark to end the conversation and go back to his job which he should be doing now and always.
“Yes!” Mark said, giving him a thumbs up and then shaking it in a misplaced gesture of enthusiasm which merely read as awkward. Mark was an awkward man. Deeply awkward. Milchick tolerated this, mimicking it and laughing in a kind way instead of a secret second way like he did sometimes. Then he began to lead Mark back into the office.
“Wait, Mr. Milchick?” Mark said suddenly.
Milchick paused for a second longer than he usually did before turning with the same smile. However, Mark could hear the sound of a ticking clock. He felt each second he was not working begin to loom. He was exceeding the company’s capacity for tolerance, he knew that but…
“Sorry but um…when does allergy season…end?” He asked because he’d lied. It did hurt a little, his eyes. They stung and when he closed them too long they burned, a little. Not enough to complain about. The feeling was gone halfway through the day.
Milchick stared at him for several seconds longer than was comfortable before tilting his head slowly, smile widening. “Whenever you stop coming in with a case of the pinks, silly!” He said, joking with him before sobering a bit. “These things can last for months, you know. Or years.”
“Oh.” Mark said, frowning. “That sounds awful.” He said, thinking again of Milchick outside. He didn’t know what outside looked like so he pictured Milchick standing in the room with the replica home, eyes wide and pink. He pictured himself standing next to him and Milchick smiling at him because he liked him and not because he had to. That was all he dared to imagine.
“Yes.” Milchick said, before the smile crept back up. It was never gone for too long unless you were being punished. Mark didn’t like when it was gone. It made his fingers hurt.
“Aren’t you glad you don’t have to experience that?” Milchick asked rhetorically, chuckling. Then he grabbed Mark’s arm and led him with a gentle insistence down the hall, back towards the office.
Again the contact with Milchick was electrifying. The other man was strong, but he didn’t use it to hurt him like Graner did. He was strong in a safe way. And he was kind, kinder than Graner and Cobel combined. That made him just about the kindest person Mark knew that wasn't his friend. It felt like a privilege to be touched and led by this kind, smart man.
When Milchick caught him staring he shot Mark a smile before returning his gaze forward. That’s right, forward! Mark decided then and there to stop worrying about his silly allergies and focus on his work and on his gratitude.
When they arrived at the office Milchick waved Mark in with a theatrical gesture. “Here we are!” He said, waiting by the door, presumably to make sure Mark actually went to his desk and started to work.
“Thank you Mr. Milchick and…I just wanted to let you know that..” Mark considered complimenting Milchick on something but it all seemed inappropriate now that he’d taken up so much time and telegraphed it so much. If he was going to do that, he’d need to make it more casual. And not within Dylan’s hearing range. “I’m gonna give it my all today!” He settled on.
Milchick tilted his head. “You should be giving it your all everyday.”
“I am! I am I just…I’ll give it more than my all! 110%!” Mark exclaimed, feeling silly but not knowing what else to do. He wanted to…impress Milchick…maybe. And he didn’t know how to do that, really. Petey might know. He’d have to ask him when he came back from the bathroom.
Milchick looked as if he’d really like for Mark to sit down and do his work but he nodded along, in service of that goal. “H-ey, now that’s what I like to see!” He said, walking over to Mark’s desk and turning the chair around, patting the seat.
Mark followed him, settling down. The second he sat, Milchick’s hands were on his shoulders, massaging them. “You’ve got this, Mark.” Milchick told him, voice warm and encouraging. Mark wondered if the next time he earned a perk he could ask for Milchick to read him something. Maybe a birthday card or a fact about his outie.
The contact was over too soon. Milchick patted his shoulders and gave him one last thumbs up before walking out.
“What the fuck was all that about? Are you in trouble?” Dylan asked, springing up immediately.
“Did you inform Mr. Milchick of your…illness?” Irving asked. When Mark turned to him, he recoiled, raising the divider between them.
“I’m not sick!” He insisted. “It’s just allergies.”
“Allergies are sicknesses dude.”
“Not like…that.” Mark said, remembering the time someone on the floor had eaten something their outie was allergic to and had to be rushed to the elevators. That was the incident, he remembered now. They all got a wellness visit that day and Ms. Casey read them a list of things they were allergic to. Ms. Casey said he was allergic to “Nothing within Lumon. You are safe here.” That’d made him feel good.
“Then what’s it like?” Dylan asked, incredulous and amused.
“Like…the air or something.” Mark muttered. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. It’s not contagious.”
Dylan shrugged, bored of the conversation. “Whatever. Talk to me in a week when you’re writhing on the floor with tentacles growing out of you or something.”
Mark rolled his eyes but didn’t reply, getting to work and pushing any worries he had aside. He would just wait for allergy season to be over. He could do that. He could wait.
And as he worked he tried not to think about Milchick’s smile or his hands or the way he laughed when he almost meant it or the way he smelled and Mark definitely did not pretend to go to the bathroom to find Petey just to hide himself in a stall and breathe, pressing his own hands against his face and closing his eyes to pretend that they were Milchick’s.
“You’ve got this, Mark.”
He didn’t remember as he moved those hands lower.
“You’ve got this.”