Rule 1 of the Office: Do NOT shag the boss!
Title: Rule 1 of the Office: Do NOT shag the boss!
Rating: PG-13 (for language and sexual themes)
Pairings: Merlin/Arthur
Genre: Modern AU, romance
Words: 4200
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: After Merlin realises he might have a tiny crush on his simply maddening boss, when they all go out for a few drinks, he finds it increasingly hard to keep his inappropriate thoughts (not to mention wandering hands) to himself. And his so-called friends aren't helping matters either.
A/N This is a companion piece to Love, Emails and Instant Messaging, which is an email format fic I wrote a while ago. However, it's not necessary to read that one first - this fic can be read as a standalone.
***
Rule 1 of the Office: Do NOT shag the boss!
“What if he doesn’t come?!” Merlin moaned, wiping his sweating hands down the sides of his jeans in small jerking motions. He glanced at the door, inwardly cursed, and brought his attention back to Gwen, who was watching him with wide sympathetic eyes.
Sometimes he wished he wasn’t so transparent.
“He said he would, didn’t he?” she asked, taking a small sip of her drink in a maddeningly calm way.
Merlin frowned, nodding his head slightly, and croaking out, “Yeah.”
“Then he will,” Gwen placated, giving him a reassuring smile. She shook her head at him fondly and shrugged her shoulders, looking confused. “I don’t get why you’re so nervous. You see Arthur every day. In fact, you saw him not two hours ago.”
“Yes, but that was in the office,” Merlin explained, casting his mind back to only a few hours before, when his blond boss had been ordering him to make continual cups of coffee, often in his favourite smug and superior voice. Merlin hadn’t been so nervous then; in fact, he had insipidity informed Arthur that he was not a slave and that he should his own coffee if he was so bloody thirsty, the mere thought of which the blond had found endlessly amusing. “It’s different at work. He bosses me around and I tell him to fuck off - but what will we talk about here?”
“Well, you invited him to a work event, not a one-on-one date, so you can both talk to other people,” Gwen pointed out, unwaveringly reassuring.
Merlin supposed that his friend raised a good point, but he was still uncharacteristically nervous. The whole thing was completely uncharted territory. What if Arthur did come and decided to hook up with someone else? Now that Merlin had finally admitted his attraction to Arthur to himself, not to mention his friends, he didn’t think his poor fragile heart would be able to handle it.
Before he could voice his concerns to Gwen, however, a firm hand clapped down on his shoulder, causing him jerk dangerously in surprise.
“Will!” he squawked, looking up at his best-friend and roommate, who was stood above him, grinning inanely, and clutching a rather large jug of beer.
“What’s up, S.A.P?” Will greeted, sliding into the seat next to him with a grin.
Merlin groaned. “You’re calling me SAP now?! Please, enough with the nicknames!”
“Not SAP - S.A.P! There’s a difference,” Will explained, in a tone that suggested he was discussing the ins and outs of Quantum Physics. “S.A.P stands for Self-Confessed Pendragon Admirer. I was going to call you S.C.A.P, but it’s too much of a mouthful.”
Merlin glared, unable to voice his contempt efficiently enough.
“What?!” Will yelped, evidently noticing his deadly glare. He gave his roommate a cheeky smile and batted his eyelashes innocently, shrugging his shoulders in such a careless manner that Merlin was almost tempted to punch him in the face. “It’s true. You’re hot for Arthur Pendragon! You admitted it!”
Merlin had admitted it - earlier that day, in fact - but still wasn’t comfortable with his friend voicing it for the whole bar to hear. It was embarrassing enough already. “Doesn’t mean I need you shouting it from the rooftops,” he grumbled into his glass, glaring over the top of the rim.
“Like anyone will know what S.A.P means.” Will rolled his eyes, as sympathetic as ever. “Besides, it’s not like you could be subtle about it anyway. I bet you’re all over him at work.” He grinned impishly and drew himself up into a straight backed sitting position, clearing his throat and launching into some humiliating impressions of his friend. “‘I'll see to all of your needs, Mr Pendragon'. ‘I'll bend over backwards to please you, Mr Pendragon.’ ‘Can I get you anything else, Mr Pendragon? Like MY COCK!’”
Merlin felt slightly aghast, by both the seemingly low opinion his friend had of him, and by the high falsetto voice Will was using to impersonate him. “I don’t sound anything like that!” he cried, mildly horrified. Imagine if he had said what Will did to Arthur? He would have probably been bodily removed from the building by security and been issued a restraining order. “Nor do I make offers thick with innuendo. Really, Will, what the hell do you take me for? I’m not you, for gods sake.”
Gwen nodded beside him, lips twitching. “Yes, Will,” she chastised, “Merlin is nothing but the consummate professional at work. Although he often dreams about shagging Arthur over his posh mahogany desk, he’s never actually propositioned him. He’s usually too busy telling Arthur to fuck off and do his own filing instead.”
Merlin suddenly felt like face-planting the table; Gwen was hardly helping him convince Will he was a consummate professional. “Thanks, Gwen,” he muttered sarcastically.
Will laughed. “Well, Blondie must be into you then. He’s hardly keeping you around because you’re a model employee, is he?”
Merlin scowled - he honestly wasn’t that bad a worker, he just didn’t like doing what Arthur told him to. At all. It was an issue - he was working on it.
“Oh, look,” Gwen interrupted, before Merlin could begin his argument on why he was the best employee Pendragon Industries had ever hired - it was a speech he’d given his rather dubious boss numerous times in the past. “Arthur’s here.”
Momentarily forgetting the age-old rule to ‘act cool’, Merlin spun round and gasped out, “Where?!”
Will gave him a pitying look as Gwen pointed towards the door, where a bright blond head could be seen making it’s way over to the bar. It was indeed Arthur, looking understated and gorgeous in a bright blue button-down shirt and jeans, followed by a woman Merlin vaguely recognised as Morgana Le Fay, Arthur’s step-sister and Head of Marketing at Pendragon Industries. She was tall and striking, with long dark hair and pure white skin - opposite to Arthur in almost every way, with the one notable exception of being just as stunning as her sibling.
“Wow,” Will mouthed, obviously catching sight of Morgana. “Who’s that? ‘Cause I got to say Merlin, if she's your competition, you best give up now.”
Merlin glared at his friend, feeling slightly put-out. Ok, so it was completely true, but it was downright depressing when your own friends pointed it out. “That’s his step-sister,” he explained, watching Will’s eyes light up in excitement. “She works at the company as well. I’ve only met her once before.”
“I wouldn’t mind working for her,” Will breathed, jerking upright as Arthur and Morgana gathered their drinks and began to make their way over, obviously catching sight of Merlin and Gwen. They drew interested stares from numerous dancers as they passed, but they ignored them, looking both cool and confident in a way that made Merlin slightly irriated and secretly envious.
“Hi,” Arthur smiled, as soon as he was within hearing distance. He looked open and a lot more friendly now he was out of the office, smile wide and eyes crinkling. “I brought Morgana, I hope that’s ok.”
Gwen kicked Merlin underneath the table, jolting him from his rather glazed staring. “Nope,” he choked, giving a shaky laugh, “don’t mind at all. Nice to meet you again, Morgana.”
Arthur’s sister gazed down at him with knowing eyes, eyebrow cocked inquisitively. “You too, Merlin,” she replied, nodding her head. She brushed her hair off her shoulder with a casual flick, and moved to sit down on the seat right of Gwen. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“I’m Gwen.” She smiled, shy and friendly. “I work in the Arts Department.”
“And I’m Will,” Merlin’s roommate piped up, giving Morgana a blinding grin, revealing so many teeth it looked as though he wanted to swallow her whole. Which he probably did. “I don’t work at Pendragon Industries, but now I’d very much like to.”
Merlin sighed exasperatedly as Arthur laughed, taking his own seat next to Merlin.
“So, why the invite?” the blond asked, as soon as Morgana, Gwen and Will had begun to talk. He cocked his head to the side and gave Merlin a considering look, face friendly but eyes displaying his intense curiosity. They were as bright and beaming as they were at the office, as though he knew everything and missed nothing. Like God. “It’s not often people invite out the boss.”
Because I want to get you drunk and have my wicked way with you, Merlin thought, while actually saying, “Because almost everyone from work is here. Can’t invite everyone at Pendragon Industries and not you - I mean, you own Pendragon Industries.”
Arthur gave his head a small jerk of acknowledgement. “Well, thanks anyway.”
Merlin - knowing how rare it was for Arthur to thank anyone for anything - couldn’t help but smile. “No problem,” he said, meeting his boss’ eyes and glancing down again; Arthur had very nice eyes. Merlin probably hadn’t noticed before because the blond spent most of his time using them to glare at him, narrowing them into sharp disbelieving slits - more terrifying than attractive.
They settled into an uneasy silence, both unsure of what to say, tension growing, before Merlin found himself blurting out, “You look really different in that shirt!” completely unable to stop himself.
Arthur blinked at him, looking a bit bemused, as Merlin winced, inwardly kicking himself. Weren’t people supposed to have a filter between their brain and mouths? Because he was surely missing one.
“I meant, you know, without the suit,” Merlin attempted to explain, struggling to stop the verbal diahorra. He was never so shy in work, so why now was he acting like a complete bumbling idiot? More so than usual. Maybe it was because Arthur looked like a male model in his casual button-down, rather than an aloof businessman. The transformation was remarkable. Although he looked less flawless without the designer suit - more raw - he looked years younger. “Not bad different. Good different.”
Arthur smiled, all twinkling eyes and flashing teeth, which did nothing to help Merlin’s coherency. “Well, thanks,” he muttered, looking pleased by the compliment. Not smug or arrogant, but genuinely pleased. Merlin didn’t think he’d ever seen the expression on his boss’ face before - maybe the unflappable man of steel was human after all?
“So…” Arthur said, after a moment’s pause, where Merlin had sat gazing at him dreamily. “Are you alright? It’s just…you’ve been really weird all day. Really jittery. And when I asked you to go all the way down to human resources to collect my case files, you didn’t complain once.”
Yeah, because I realised I am completely besotted with you, you prat, Merlin thought, though he dare not say it out loud, in fear of both his life and job. Instead, he merely shook his head and adopted his best ‘I’m completely innocent’ expression. It was a look he had perfected during the ‘Copying-Machine Fiasco’, when Arthur had interrogated him about the demise of the office’s most expensive piece of technology. (Well, how was he supposed to know that pressing all the buttons at once would send the device into some sort of seizure? He’d never claimed to be a technical genius.)
“I’m fine,” he insisted, blinking slowly and giving Arthur his widest smile. “Just tired.”
“Oh, right.” Arthur nodded and looked down, an action so uncharacteristic Merlin immediately wondered what expression the move had hidden. “It’s just you wouldn’t even look me in the eye. And you were stuttering - it was very unlike you. Amusing at first, but weird.”
Merlin cringed and suppressed the urge to smack his own hand to his face. Stuttering?! Had he really been that obvious? Maybe Will had been right about the whole subtlety thing; he might as well have gone around with a giant S.A.P sign stuck to his forehead, for how obvious he was being.
How embarrassing.
“Look, I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” Merlin said hastily, feeling himself flush to his ears.
But Arthur only looked confused. “Why would it make me uncomfortable? You were actually doing as I asked for once.” He paused, watched Merlin closely, and then frowned. “Unless it was something to do with me?”
Merlin’s eyes widened as he attempted to backtrack, cursing himself and his big mouth. “Nope, nothing to do with you,” he breathed, rather unconvincingly. “Nothing at all. Personal reasons, you know. Nothing to do with you at all." He waved his arms in alarm, praying that Arthur would take pity and not question him further. "Oh, I like this song. Let’s dance!”
“Um, what?” Arthur muttered, losing his handle on the whole conversation, obviously thrown by the abrupt change of subject.
But before he could say anything more, Merlin grabbed his hand and pulled him upright, willing to do anything to stop the talk from continuing - it was getting into extremely dangerous territory. Merlin had practically admitted that he fancied his boss. It was just lucky Arthur appeared to be too oblivious to have realised - which was completely unsurprising, but a relief nevertheless.
“Dance,” he repeated, tugging the blond forward forcefully. It was amazing how confident desperation could make him. “Now.”
Arthur followed him onto the dance-floor with a slightly shell-shocked expression, but didn’t look anywhere near as surprised as Gwen and Will, who had evidently not been expecting his boldness. Morgana on the other hand, merely looked smug, as though she had been anticipating that very outcome all along.
They stood at the edge of the jumping crowds, both looking at the other uneasily, when Merlin suddenly realised that dancing actually meant he was going to have to dance, all flailing limbs and stomping feet. With Arthur. In very close proximity.
He was so, so dead.
No, worse. He was going to be so, so fired. Boss’ didn’t usually appreciate their employees feeling them up, did they?
“Actually,” Merlin cried, over the pounding music, “I don’t want to dance. Let’s go get a drink.”
Arthur cocked his head and frowned confusedly. It was a strange expression to see on his face - rare and a little bit unnerving. “I thought you liked this song?” he asked, showcasing his infuriating ability to remember every little thing Merlin had ever said.
“Not enough to actually dance to it,” Merlin admitted, while determinedly thinking, Must not get fired, must not get fired. Even if he did manage to restrain himself from assaulting Arthur in the middle of a club, dancing would still be a completely humiliating experience; Arthur should know better than anyone that his assistant wasn’t the most co-ordinated person on the planet, not if his numerous and expensive coffee-stained shirts were anything to go by.
Merlin turned towards the bar, ready to make an escape, when his boss’ hand reached out and grabbed him, halting his retreat. “Come on, Merlin,” the blond said insistently, eyes earnest. “Dance with me?”
Suddenly Merlin didn’t care that he was about to be potentially fired, or make a complete ass of himself, because when Arthur was looking at him like that, he’d do just about anything. It made a pleasant change from his boss’ superior glares, which usually always made him grit his teeth and suppress the urge to inflict bodily harm. Often with Arthur's very own tie.
Arthur danced surprisingly well, not particularly in rhythm with the music, but with such grace and charisma that he made it work. He rotated his hips confidently, looked up at the flashing lights, and flicked his golden hair backwards and forwards.
Merlin stood motionless, arms hanging limply at his sides, staring so unashamedly that he didn’t blink through the whole first 30 seconds of the song. Opps.
It was just all very surreal. He suddenly felt as though he’d been transported to a very strange dream. Arthur - his boss! - was drinking and dancing with him, looking happy, and not at all like the complete tyrant Merlin had come to know and love him as; just a 26 year old man, hanging out and having fun. It was bizarre. Very bizarre.
“Are you going to dance or not?!” Arthur cried after a minute, with such a familiar roll of his eyes Merlin instantly felt more comfortable.
“I’m not very good,” he said lamely, startled from his daydreams.
The blond cocked an eyebrow. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” He stepped forwards, until he and Merlin were only inches apart, and placed his hands on his employee’s waist, urging him to move. “You know, dancing requires actual movement,” he muttered superiorly, causing Merlin to glare, despite the unexpected and incredibly pleasant body contact. “It’s a good place to start.”
Merlin’s looked down at the hands on his waist, bobbed slightly to the music, and attempted to suppress the urge to fling his arms around his boss’ neck and attach his lips to the shiny skin of throat. Must not get fired, must not get fired! “Is this - “ he gulped uneasily, trying to remember that he actually needed his job “ - really appropriate?”
Arthur blinked at him and dropped his hands, eyebrows creasing. Merlin felt cold at the loss, but knew someone in the very back of his mind, that it was for the best. Too much touching would be very, very bad - he really wouldn’t be able to control himself for much longer.
“Well, we’re not in work, are we?” the blond asked, giving him a funny look.
“Well, no…” Merlin admitted.
Arthur clenched his jaw and stopped dancing, staring at his employee with curious eyes. “Don’t you want to?”
“Don’t I want to what?!” Merlin cried, feeling a bit lost. Was Arthur implying something?
The blond opened his mouth, paused, then shut it again. He shrugged. “Never mind,” he said, turning slightly, “I’m just going to go.”
“No wait!” Merlin lurched forwards, grabbed his boss’ hand, and swung him back round again. He pulled him close and started moving awkwardly to the music, urging the blond to dance with him. “What did you mean by that?” he asked, pressing himself close on the pretence of talking into Arthur’s ear. The blond was warm and firm, hair soft as it brushed Merlin’s brow, and breathing heavy on his cheek.
“It’s just…” Arthur seemed strangely uncomfortable; he shook his head and put a tentative hand on Merlin’s back, holding him in place. “Well, you invited me out. And Morgana said…” He dribbled off, unable to finish the sentence - he didn’t like admitting anything to do with feelings, it was the Uther Pendragon in him.
But Merlin caught on anyway. He inhaled a lungful of air and looked Arthur directly in the eye. “Morgana said that I liked you?” he guessed, remembering Morgana’s pointed knowing looks. Which meant that he obviously was completely transparent. Shit. “In a more than friends like way.”
Arthur nodded, face unreadable. “Was she right?”
Merlin licked his lips and dithered, having absolutely no idea what to say. Was this some sort of trick? What if he admitted his feelings and Arthur said: ‘You’re fired. Ha ha ha ha’? Merlin was fairly sure it would kill him. And Arthur. Although that was purely because Merlin would wrap his hands around his boss’ neck and strangle him.
“What would happen if she was?” he asked curiously, dodging the question. “I wouldn’t be fired, would I?”
Arthur scoffed, looking temporarily amused. “Merlin, I have had much more valid reasons to fire you in the past,” he informed him, a point Merlin had to concede - the 'Copying-Machine Fiasco’ had still not been forgotten. “And yet here you are.”
Merlin grinned despite himself. “Well, what would you do without me?”
“Probably get some work done.”
“Lies,” Merlin joked. He raised his hand, ran it down Arthur’s arm, and squeezed it lightly. He was unsure of what to say, so continued dancing, careful not to elbow his boss anywhere important with his flailing limbs.
Arthur grinned at him in amusement, but started moving as well, leading Merlin into a somewhat recognizable rhythm. They pressed close together, jolted by the other dancers, and clung to each other’s sides; Merlin vaguely realised it was as close to Arthur as he had ever been.
And he wanted to be even closer.
Under the pretence of dancing, now sure he wasn’t going to be sacked on the spot, he looped his arms around Arthur’s waist and squeezed tightly, knowing that his friend’s were all probably watching him from the other side of the room. His face was centimetres away from Arthur’s neck, moist with sweat and smelling of cologne, and Merlin rubbed his nose against the skin, feeling his boss grip painfully at his waist.
Merlin grinned triumphantly; maybe Arthur was interested, and maybe he wanted it just as much as Merlin did.
Encouraged by the thought, he brushed his hands through the golden strands at Arthur’s nape, smooth, soft and slightly dampened by exhilaration. He pressed his lips to the curve of his boss’ neck, still grinding his hips, and felt the blond fingers run up and down his back teasingly. It felt unbelievably good - so good in fact, it enforced Merlin’s notion that the whole thing was just a very bizarre dream. A dream he would be wanking over for years to come.
However, before he could question anything much further, Arthur pressed his hips forward, between Merlin’s thighs, and the dark-haired man squawked in surprise. Arthur’s arousal was pushing pointedly against his thigh.
Arthur was actually attracted to him?! So there was a god!
Pulling back, Merlin looked his boss straight in the eye, practically breathless with need. “I won’t be fired?” he asked, just to be sure. Verbal contract and all.
Arthur’s lips quirked. “You won’t be fired,” he confirmed.
Unable to hold back a second longer, Merlin kissed him, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him towards him. Their teeth clanked as their mouths met, slick and sloppy, tongues sliding quickly into each other’s mouths, wet, tangled and so good, Merlin let out a low groan.
He breathed heavily out his nose, attempting not to hyperventilate, and clung to the back of the Arthur’s neck until it is absolutely necessary to pull back, lack of oxygen becoming a serious issue for the both of them.
“So, Morgana was right?” Arthur asked a second later, sounding breathless. His lips were swollen, face flushed, and Merlin had a very difficult time remembering that only a hour before, the man had been a maddeningly aloof businessman - his boss! “You do like me? In a more than friend-like way?”
“Morgana was right,” Merlin confirmed, nodding his head and smirking slightly. “Very, very right.”
“Don’t tell her that,” Arthur laughed, rolling his eyes. “She’ll be unbearable.”
Merlin glanced back over at the tables, quickly locating their friends, staring at them both in astonishment, completely agog. Or at least Will and Gwen were agog, eyes wide and disbelieving - Morgana was merely wearing a smug smile, and noticing Merlin’s gaze, she waggled her fingers in a small and superior wave.
“I don’t think we need to tell her,” Merlin pointed out, watching Arthur groan. “I think she saw it all for herself.”
“Want to get out of here?” Arthur asked, with a bit of a suggestive leer.
Merlin flushed.
He looked back at his friends, still staring unblinkingly, and nodded, eager to be free from their watchful eyes. “Oh, yes, definitely,” he replied, slipping his hand into Arthur’s and lacing their fingers together. “But we should say goodbye first.”
The blond looked a bit reluctant, but followed Merlin’s departure from the dance-floor, coming to stand directly in front of Gwen, Will and Morgana.
“Um, so, we’re going…” Merlin announced, feeling a bit uncomfortable with their shell-shocked expressions. However, it wasn’t often he made such a spectacle of himself, so he supposed he could understand their initial surprise.
“Going where?” Will grinned, blinking away his shock and waggling his eyebrows.
Gwen elbowed him in the stomach.
“None of your business,” Merlin sniffed, although he knew full well he was not taking Arthur back to his and Will’s apartment - his friend would probably hover outside his bedroom door like the complete pervert that he was.
“Well, bye,” Gwen said, giving Merlin a friendly smile, eyes twinkling.
Morgana inclined her head, looking quite pleased with herself. “Bye, brother dearest.”
Arthur scowled at her. “Bye, you meddling harpy.”
Will grinned at Merlin in a way so devilish, the dark-haired man instantly felt his stomach fill with dread. “Bye, S.A.P!”
Merlin’s eyes widened and he shook his head pointedly, throwing his friend a warning look.
“What’s S.A.P mean?” Arthur asked, looking confused.
Ignoring Merlin’s frantic gesturing, Will said: “Self-confessed Pendragon Admirer.”
Merlin blushed beetroot red as Arthur looked at him, eyebrows raised. He let out a shaky laugh, shot Will a deadly look, and grasped at his boss’ hand, tugging him swiftly towards the exit.
“Self-confessed Pendragon Admirer?” Arthur asked, sounding amused and just a little bit smug.
Merlin groaned and dragged the blond in for a brief kiss. “It’s a long story. A long embarrassing story, which I will never tell you.”
Arthur grinned, looking victorious. “Tell me or you’re fired.”
Merlin was not amused.
***
A/N Pointless fluff is pointless. :P
Comments are hugs!