Chapter Text
Cigarettes weren’t always something Protag would consider himself dependent on. They were just a little nerve-relaxer or something to focus on while passing the time. But because of the recent work schedule, he found himself yearning for the five minute moments he gets to draw a fresh victim from the box and light it up.
The feeling of washing away the uneasiness with a few drags. The space to take a deep breath and allow his mind to wander outside the confines of professionalism. The calm before the inevitable storm that reminded Protag that he was still human enough to need breaks every once in a while after long hours of mind numbing tasks.
Coffee addictions mixed with a workload that never appeared to have an end was a recipe for disaster for someone who gets stressed easily around meeting deadlines.
So, Protag found himself most thankful towards his vice for the way it stopped his hands from shaking and smoothed out his stress induced twitching.
So as his head rested against the back wall of his cubicle, Protag allowed himself to fully sink into his moderately comfortable office chair while he dangled his arm carelessly over the edge of the armrest, carelessly allowing the mostly used cigarette to continue to burn for a few more moments without shortening the lifespan of the flame.
There was no outside force that would force him to rush at the moment. No deadlines, no one nearby, no looming boss breathing down his neck. Just him, his thoughts, and all the time in the world (two more minutes) accompanied by the clouds of smoke that filled the confined space he sat in.
But as he went to take another good inhale of his cigarette, he noticed the absence of life from it. During his departure from reality, he hadn’t noticed how much time had passed since he lit the most recent cigarette.
Oh well.
The next in light was only a simple light away.
But first, a stretch.
And with that thought, Protag delayed the consumption of an additional cigarette for a healthy stretch. And as he stretched, the strained knots in his back and shoulders reminded him of how much his stiff muscles begged him to stop sitting still for long hours on end. But the initial pain had an immediate payoff when he felt himself become loose enough to let out a relieved sigh that seemed to resonate from depths he hadn’t felt in ages. The relief was just as rewarding as another cigarette would have been, so he stretched more, folding himself into more unnatural poses and twisting his limbs in ways that felt foreign to the muscles that only remembered being as stiff as a statue.
But all of Protag’s relaxation would be inevitably cut off by a not-so predictable interruption.
As he stretched his shoulders by raising his arms as high as they would allow, Protag had forgotten the pack of cigarettes that remained clutched in his hand.
But no worries.
He was easily reminded of the box’s presence when it was suddenly swiped from his grasp by the gray hand of-
The interviewer?-
“Wh- Hey!” Protag whipped around instinctively to the thievery.
“You really shouldn’t be smoking, you know.” His boss examined the box of cigarettes while the employee made attempts to protest.
“I got all my work done for this hour, so what’s it to you?” Protag made his way out of his cubicle to meet the man that stood outside of it messing with the contents of the small box.
“Well contrary to popular belief, I actually have a sliver of concern for my employees. And with that concern, I am obligated to advise you against the consumption of things that cause you harm! We wouldn’t want you having issues with your lungs now would we?” That familiar mocking smile that the colorless man wore didn’t exactly match the uncharacteristic concern in his gaze, but the glare was masked by a playful tap of the cigarette box on Protag’s head in a condescending manner.
Protag was mildly offended by the gesture, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t used to it.
“Fair, but it’s not like you can confiscate them or anything.” Protag said without thinking like he usually would. Maybe he was a little too relaxed after all.
Not like that calm demeanor would last long anyways.
A dark gray eyebrow was raised in response, taking the comment as more of a challenge than just a comment that happened to slip past Protag’s mental filter.
“Maybe I can if you cannot be trusted. After all, this box looks too new to already be almost half empty.” The taller man smirked. The sharpness of the superior’s words shot a little regret into the employee, but he still insisted on retrieving his belongings, so he made an attempt to snatch the box back.
“Again, it’s really not your business what I do with my free time.” Protag said, missing the box completely when its holder swiftly evaded the lunge.
“And again, I insist that it is my business.” The colorless man reflected Protag’s words, unexpectedly finding his smile widening at the sight of the shorter man desperately lunging towards him.
This charade would only become more enjoyable for one, and more annoying for the other.
“Quit messing around. It’s not that serious!” Protag attempted to persuade his boss who held the box as high up as his arm would normally allow. The height was impossible to reach for the shorter man, who found himself clawing at his boss’s arm for the box.
“I am taking this seriously!” The boss chirped, amused by the sight of the employee all but climbing up his arm like a tree holding fruit just out of reach.
Protag only responded to that statement with an annoyed glare, but his glare softened slightly when it was met with that charming white smile and the unwavering focus in his black eyes that his boss stared back into his with.
This feud was going nowhere. The greyscale man was tall enough to keep the pack just out of reach at all times and fast enough to dodge any opponent coming his way. There was clearly no fair way to win this fight.
But would that mean there is an unfair way?
Protag focused on the gaze on the patronizing smile that happened to be close enough to read into. His eyes scanned the grinning poker face of his boss in search of any helpful information, but nothing stood out to him apart from the lips that were coincidentally level with his eyes.
And an idea hit him.
A simple “what if…?”
But a really stupid idea that surely Protag wouldn’t act upon.
Surely it would be an idea that would remain in his head.
Surely he wouldn’t resort to it as a last-ditch attempt to win a petty fight.
Surely not .
The silent tension mixed with the smoke-filled air, and the elongated eye contact forced both men to mutually question any logical explanation for it.
“Are we finally giving up on this charade?” The monochromatic interviewer hummed, cocking his head to the side innocently in blatant contradiction with the smile that morphed into more of a smirk at the assumption of the other man’s surrender.
“Not quite.” The raven huffed in surrender, but not for this fight.
Surrender to his impulses.
Surrender to the thoughts he insisted he would surely keep to himself .
The taller man didn’t have more than a second to formulate a typically sarcastic response before he was pulled down by his tie and tasting the smoke stained lips of his employee.
The shock of such a bold action caused the taller man to lose his balance and threw the couple into an awkward enough position to warrant a tan sleeve to wrap around the neck of the boss for support. And after the initial shock of the kiss, something in the grayscale man eased as rested his falling eyelids and wrapped a free arm around the waist of the employee beneath him.
But on the other end, Protag saw this moment as a perfect opportunity to sneak his highest arm towards the raised cigarette pack that remained held in midair. He peaked an eye open just enough to see where he needed to direct his arm, but in his redirected attention he lost focus on keeping the boss continuously entertained. This, he was quickly reminded of when he spotted the slowly opening eyes of a man who’s catching onto the scheme.
So, to derail suspicion, Protag returned his focus to the lips he held contact with and even entertained an exchange of tongue with the other. The two stirred each other’s saliva and mutually tasted the smoke that remained imprinted on the insides of Protag’s mouth. Not that the boss objected to the odd taste because his mind was preoccupied with making this moment last longer than Protag originally intended.
In the heat of the moment, the interviewer’s guard had been torn down so ruthlessly that the box of cigarettes fell out of his hand and alerted Protag to its new placement with a faint rustle of its contents on the floor. The box was close enough to take back with his foot, but the distance was far enough to require Protag to lower himself even more in order to reach the small box with his foot and drag it back to his person. And since wouldn’t allow this kiss to end until the box was safely within his reach, the kiss was deepened with a hand wrapping around the back of the employer’s neck to anchor the man in the moment further.
This not only pleased the interviewer, but excited the man enough to mirror Protag’s sensual hand placement. Only he proved to be bolder with his intentions when his fingers twirled around the raven locks of the employee’s hair and gave it a firm tug. The breath of the raven haired man hitched in response, but the refusal to let the boss get away with more actions of superiority over him took priority in the employee’s mind once again as he added a nibble on the interviewer’s lip to his startled response.
The mischievous gray smile the boss maintained continued to warn the employee of the consequences of not retreating from this battle sooner.
Protag knew full well how much he was going to regret committing to this terrible idea, but it did bring him the opportunity to sneak the box of cigarettes back with his foot. So the second the box was close enough within his reach, Protag ushered himself out of the kiss to catch a breath before quickly ducking down and swiping the box up from under his foot.
The boss’s eyes shot open from the sudden movements of the man below him. He didn't expect such a moment to be cut off by something so random but his questions were answered when he noticed the familiar box being placed safely in a tan pocket.
“Clever, I must say.” The interviewer said with shallow breaths, wiping the evidence of their recent activities off of his slightly swollen lips. “-But don’t think this ends here.”
But as the boss was finishing his sentence and straightening his suit, Protag was already making his way to the break room to retreat from the dark hazy gaze the gray man held.
Those consequences would be for his future self to handle, because right now was the prime time for him to ease his growing nerves once again with another cigarette.
He was definitely going to need a smoke for when the realization of what he just did kicks in.