Chapter Text
How you ended up in an efficiency suite, a quite luxurious efficiency suite if you were being honest, close to Palmer Square in the heart of Princeton, NJ with Halbrand Maia’s wicked tongue doing things to your mind and body that you wouldn’t be able to describe as anything other than existential, you could hardly recall in the moment. Nostradamus, the Mayan’s, the Bible, the man who stood on the street corner by the Target you frequented in California had all predicted the end of life as you might know it, none of them had mentioned that it would come at the hands of a tall, dark-haired, hazel-eyed pain in the ass that you had spent the better part of knowing being mostly annoyed by.
You worked for an extremely prestigious University. You had spent quite a few years building a name in academic circles as someone to be relied upon to see funding come in, spent correctly and closed out spectacularly. You had assisted many a new Principal Investigator, PI, with starting up their labs and you had seen many an elder go into emeriti status. You had weathered quite a few punches along the way but climbed the ladder successfully from Financial Assistant, to Financial Administrator, to Assistant Finance Manager and you were fairly certain your next step would be Business Manager.
It wasn’t a position you necessarily strove for but it wasn’t one you would balk at either; but you had no reason to believe your boss would be going anywhere anytime soon. So, status quo was fine with you for the time being.
The department staff was the most tight knit you had ever met. Everyone supported each other. You oversaw 10 of the 25 staff personally and you couldn’t ask for a better team. The Grants Manager, your equivalent now that your former job had been split in half due to growth, was a bit neurotic but smart as hell and beyond dedicated. You were each other’s second set of eyes on just about everything and so it was a bit of a wrench thrown into an otherwise well-greased machine when your Department Head mentioned that you both would be hosting, aka be shadowed by, a member of the Provost’s Finance office for an undetermined amount of time.
It was touted as something to be proud of. Your department had made such a name for itself that the Provost wanted to send someone in to get examples of how they might assist other departments in structuring themselves into a better, more productive model.
You growled from your office, reading the email the moment it came through, voice pitched to carry, “For fuck’s sake, Gil! What kind of bullshit is this?”
Dark, grey eyes stared straight ahead. You had been at the University longer than he had and there was a small part of him that was mildly frightened of you. Whether it was true fear or just that you might one day throw your hands up and walk out the door, he truly wasn’t sure. He was sure, however, that he didn’t want to incur the reaction you just posited except that he had zero to no choice in the matter.
Elrond came around the corner from his office door to yours, his voice low, “I don’t like this.”
You stood up, fit to be tied, “Me neither.”
He mumbled all the way down the hall as he followed you, “They are going to watch everything we do, punch holes in our procedures, look for every random error…”
You stopped at Gil Galad’s office door. His eyes maneuvering over his, quite frankly, ridiculously huge computer screen. He knew it was coming the moment he sent the email.
You didn’t hesitate to stroll right up to his desk and stand over him with your arms crossed while Elrond at least closed the door and took a more polite stance on the other side of the monolith of a monitor.
“Gil, when they optioned us for this program, I am pretty sure that we,” your eyes moved over Elrond who swallowed and nodded, “Said we weren’t going to do it. It’s a bad idea to let them see the inner workings.”
Elrond wouldn’t say so; but he found it quite humors that a man of 6’2” would be so easily cowed by a woman who hardly matched his height. Still, long before Elrond had arrived, you had been in the trenches with Gil. He had been new to the department during a transitional phase. He had worked in a completely different capacity, Financial Director for Finance and Administration under the Dean for Research, before jumping in headfirst and being baptized by fire as Department Head where you were glad to jump in just as quickly.
The department was smaller then but you had lost a lot of resources. The entire management team had quit in one form or another just as he was moving over. There was no turning back for him and there was no retreat for you. You had a special relationship with the faculty you helped on a daily basis and there was no way you were going to abandon ship just because the water had gotten a bit too choppy.
You stayed late, took on duties that had never been yours and met with him for at least an hour at the end of every day. The two of you had essentially gone to war together for the better part of a year to keep the department in line and when positions slowly started getting filled again, it felt like an utter triumph. Especially since you knew, or thought you knew, that you could entrust him to always have your back and to ensure the department was secure.
The affair had been practically unavoidable. Illicit only in that he was your boss. Neither of you were attached in any way and there wasn’t a fraternization policy in place. Sexual Harassment, absolutely, had to take a course every year; but when he fucked you good and hard at the edge of his desk, you felt harassed only in that you sometimes had to hear the custodian gripe about ‘what the fuck this guy must eat that he drips this crap on the floor’.
Eat, sure. He didn’t do that either. There was never enough time or thought involved. It was always quick and crass. Straight to the point and left you feeling just a bit more relaxed than you had before you started yelling about this or that. It almost always came down to the ‘politics’ and there was a lot of it at the level you worked. The affair had ended as abruptly as it had begun, after the seats in the department had started becoming full, when he asked you out on an actual date and you narrowed your eyes at him to try to determine if he was joking or not.
So, you gave it a try and by the end of the night, you both realized you had little in common besides the job. You were nothing if not honest and he knew as well as you did that he wasn’t what you were ultimately looking for. You weren’t exactly ‘it’ for him either; but the sex had been good; and it still, even in the moment you stood over him to complain about the incoming intruder, got his dick up when you got heated.
The interesting thing about him, the part that had turned you on about him, was his ability to get really serious and really severe. His ability to stand his ground and allowing this person into your inner sanctum wasn’t standing any ground. Of course, as high as he was, he still answered to a great power. That power was the Chair of the Department and the Chair had been promised quite a bit if this one thing would be allowed. Thus, Halbrand Maia would be deemed the Lord of Gifts, behind his back, of course.
You ground your jaw, “And what does Brimby think about this?”
Your Business Manager, Celebrimbor. You were the only one who dared call him that. Though, he never took much issue with it.
Gil chuckled slightly, “He thought he’d prefer not to be the one to tell you and seems to have taken a short vacation for the next two weeks.”
There was no argument to be made. You knew it as well as Elrond did as Gil provided the email from the Chair in big, ridiculously large color on the expansive monitor.
You gritted your teeth as you turned to walk away, “Well, I guess they’re at least going to pay us well as they bend us over and fuck us in the…”
Elrond’s eyes blew wide as Gil stood, finally, “Enough! Look, it’s not going to be forever. Just sort it out. Mornings with one of you, afternoons with the other. He doesn’t get privileges to anyone else and I won’t have him sneaking around. He is yours to command; so, command him…”
You pursed your lips and offered a backwards glance as he emphasized, “I KNOW you’re good at that.”
You smirked in a way that said both, ‘I know you do’ and “You have no idea’. He was going to have to excuse himself to the men’s room while wondering what he might have missed out on when he was far too honest about his disinterest in cats.
You had a strategic meeting with Elrond that afternoon. There wasn’t anything you were doing that wasn’t on the up and up. There were certain rules that might be skirted but only within the varying edges of the strict guidelines. Everyone knew what those were and everyone knew that every move they made was open to a future audit. Sure, there were loopholes. Of course, they had to be considered at times; but that typically came with regards to unrestricted funding. When it came to sponsored research, everyone played by the book, even though that book sometimes wasn’t first edition. Still, every t was crossed and i dotted, there were no exceptions, except when other university offices dragged their feet. The paperwork was ridiculous and Halbrand Maia came from one of those departments.
However, you could have been saddled with worse. They could have sent you his manager, Shelob, she was impossible to deal with. She would start a conversation that drew you into a circle you might never find yourself able to emerge from. Every question answered led to another question. She spun webs better than any arachnid you had ever seen, even the orb weavers, who, even though they freaked you out, made quite lovely displays.
You had worked over email and the phone with Halbrand for quite a few years. He had a nice enough voice and a good enough demeanor. Always made it sound like he was trying to help; but you were no idiot. Everything was meant to be a trap and you figured out, quickly, how to avoid those. The issue was, how to avoid those when he was sitting right next to you.
Truth told, you and your department could stand up to any audit of any agency any day because you always had PI consent and in writing. Still, sometimes, that required discussions and sometimes those discussions led down a rabbit hole of confusion on the PI’s part that you’d rather the ‘shadow’ from ‘up the hill’ didn’t observe.
If you believed he was truly there to learn something, maybe your feelings might differ; but you couldn’t help yourself but to think ‘wolf among the sheep’.
Day One…Celebrimbor, true to form, was on vacation. You supposed he earned it since he hadn’t taken one since he started; but you were still annoyed.
Halbrand walked in, completely lost. You heard the doors open to reception. You knew he was coming and you weren’t going to be the one to welcome him. You watched a tall, dark-haired form, quite well-dressed move past your door, down the hall until you heard Gil’s deep tenor, just a vibration really through your shared wall. A laugh, a greeting you didn’t wish to share as you had cleared your desk of every paper, every note, everything that you might typically have before you on your ‘to do’ list, and then the shuffling footsteps.
You took a sip of coffee and stared at your email, clicking, responding to something from your Purchasing Coordinator as Gil Galad stood and cleared his throat. You swallowed whatever anger you held as you turned your eyes on the tall brunette and his equally tall companion, continuing to type, “Sorry, Nori has an issue and I’m just responding. Give me one…” You punched in a few more words and punctuation as you continued to look at them. Gil was always insanely impressed at your ability to do such a thing, your eyes drifting back to hit send without even proof reading, and you stood, moving toward the door, hand out, “Halbrand, great to finally meet you in person!”
He entered with a nervous smile. Anxiety, good, you were anxious too. Your hands clutched for a second and then you were pointing to the chair on the other side of your desk. It was your home turf. You were secure here.
“Great to,” he turned and looked at the chair in confusion, “Meet you to, Y/N.”
You shrugged your shoulders, “Awesome, so, do you just want to watch or what? I have a queue that’s blowing up all over the place; so, you can pull the chair around and have a look or are you looking for an interview type thing? Can’t really do that at the moment, we have 10 new faculty and…”
He chuckled and you noticed his tongue shot out just slightly, like a child’s would when they were nervous or excited. Interesting and disgusting. As long as he didn’t spit on everything, fine.
Gil coughed. It was a chuckle and a warning. You knew it.
“I’ve got him, Gil. I’ll turn him over to Elrond after lunch.”
Elrond could hear you from the opposing wall and shuddered. You were so much better at dealing with this kind of thing than he was.
You spun around in your chair, offering a raised brow, barely taking him in as he maneuvered the rolling chair behind you.
“I just want to see how it happens, organically.”
He pulled out a notepad and you snorted, “It doesn’t happen…organically…on a piece of paper. Pay attention.”
You didn’t want him to write things down word for word, memory for memory, as you completed a PI projection, intercepted and responded to multiple emails and found him either flabbergasted or intrigued as his leg began to bounce, very similarly to your own. Anxiety, got it. OCD, probably, also got it.
By the time you were ready to hand him over to Elrond, he sat back and swallowed far more deeply than you imagined.
“I’m impressed. Really.”
You turned, offering him an unimpressed eye, “Why’s that?”
“How you manage all of that, so quickly.”
You stood and stretched. How he watched you do so was lost on you entirely, “Would have been quicker if I didn’t have a shadow.”
He stood and nodded, “Got it.”
You almost felt bad for a moment and then he made it clear, “I’m the same. I don’t do well with people looking over my shoulder.”
You grinned, “Probably get that a lot over on your side of the hill.”
He huffed, “You have no idea.”
Maybe he wasn’t so bad. That’s what you thought until the end of the day and he had said his goodbyes and Elrond maneuvered into your doorway. He looked like he had been beaten to death with the mononucleosis virus, the exhaustion seeping off of him.
“How did it go, El?”
His response through tired eyes, “Horseshit, he’s full of it.”
You couldn’t help yourself but to be grateful that you didn’t have anything in your mouth to sputter out as you gasped into a full-on chuckle. It was the first time you had ever heard a curse of any kind come from his lips. Sure, it was a little one but it was still one.
“Oh fuck, did you just say horseshit? Tell me more!”
He didn’t blush. He had his opinion and it seemed he was pretty adamant about it.
“You know the revolving picture album I have on my desk, has Celebrian and the boys and Arwen on it?”
You nodded, “Yeah, I love to watch them grow on it.”
“He said it was a distraction and how could I possibly get through a day with that playing over and over.”
You couldn’t help but grin, “And what did you say?”
He pulled his hand into a fist, “I told him that he needed to find something to live for.”
You rose and approached him, with a bit of a giggle, hands softly grasping his shoulders, “Did he say anything?”
Elrond shrugged his shoulders, often uncomfortable with anyone touching him but allowing you to do so, “Not really. He looked a little put out about it. Screw him.”
You would have hugged him except that you knew better.
“Hey, El, it’s a couple of weeks. Maybe next time he comes in, update your album and bring it in to show me??”
You winked and he laughed.
Well, one great thing had come out of Halbrand’s visit thus far and it was Elrond coming out of his shell. You wished upon wish that you had recorded his reaction.
The next time he came in, you were counting down the days, at least from what Gil understood, marking them off on your calendar mentally, Elrond did bring in new pictures for his revolving frame and you found the boys overseeing their little sister so adorable. You couldn’t help it. They were made for movies and you hoped none of them ever went into the business, harsh one, you knew.
Halbrand had let his eyes drift, anywhere but towards the pictures revolving before you.
One thing you did know about him, something he had provided you over one summer where you were holding the entire fort aside Gil Galad and he was new to his position and trying to rack up points is that he didn’t go by his actual name. Halbrand was one that had been provided by his mother, Aulë M. Ilúvatar, Jr. was who he was on paper, a name he didn’t carry over into his professional life. That, he didn’t disclose, only matter-of-factly that he preferred Halbrand. He had held a lot back at the time but he was honest in saying that he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps. He likely disappointed a lot of people but his path would be his own.
It had been meant to make him feel uncomfortable but neither you, nor especially Elrond, felt ok with how uneasy he felt.
You nodded to Elrond, “Hey, the kiddos look amazing. Say hi to them and Celeb, yeah? I’ll send this one over to you after lunch.”
Halbrand seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Oddly enough, so did Elrond.
The next week took you closer to the end of the Fall Semester and you were SURE that this guy wasn’t supposed to be hanging around so long and especially close to the holidays. It was September but still.
You had a quarterly meeting scheduled and he was more than eager to join. You introduced him to all the grants assistants, the purchasing coordinator, those who worked for you and those who worked for Elrond.
“Hey, Halbrand…Maybe not this meeting?”
He teased his tongue over his teeth. It drove you nuts that he was so flippant with his tongue. It was like it didn’t fit in his mouth for how much he waggled it about.
He offered a soft smirk, “Something you don’t want me to see?”
It hardly took you a moment to gather your faculties, sucking against your teeth, “Nothing you haven’t seen before...or well, maybe not done as well.”
You were beyond annoyed with how he had a penchant to speak with his tongue, draw it out in an oddly timed laugh, let it roll over his lips to wet them when he could just as easily sip from the fucking polar-whatever reusable bottle he used. His tongue was everywhere and not in the way that you, personally, would want it.
It was the first time he had looked at you sincerely, no apprehension, as gold-flecked, green met your own e/c eyes, “That’s what I’m here for. Want to show me, everything I’ve been missing?”
The way his legs were slightly spread on the fucking swivel chair, the way his shoulders squared, his eyes darkened and yet still shone so bright. The way his tongue hovered behind his teeth as he spoke, you were sure you needed a moment and you were sure this wasn’t the same guy you had been speaking to for months. There was a really deficient part of you that wanted to walk down to Gil’s office and ask him to skewer you on his ridiculously well-proportioned cock.
You bit against your bottom lip. Reminding yourself that, ‘fuck you, you are here to fuck us and in no pleasurable way’ went through your mind.
You snorted, “I’m going to pee and then you can meet me in the atrium.”
It was the best defense you could come up with. Talk about things a guy would never want to hear about. Talk about things you would never want to hear about.
You splashed water over your face as you exited the 12-stall monstrosity of the first floor, Nori beside you. There was no doubt because she laid firm hands over your shoulder, “Thanks for taking us seriously about the meetings.”
That was an entirely different conversation with relation to their former manager and what you had been thrust into. You had no regrets. Your crew was amazing even when writing reviews for 10 people took a bit off your life.
You turned to her, “The Lord of Gifts is going to come today.”
She grinned, her eyes shining, “Oh, the hottie?”
You frowned, “Uh, no, the guy who could bury us; so, let’s keep things on point, yeah?”
She pursed her lips, saluting, “On it, boss!”
The meeting went off without a hitch and you were pretty sure you’d be rid of the menace soon enough. Elrond had given a twitchy presentation but it had been backed fully by the institution’s grant oversight personnel.
Halbrand walked beside you as you maneuvered to the elevators to bring you back to the atrium level, “Well trained, I see.”
You provided him a side-eyed scowl as you entered the elevator. Thinking more about wanting to drop off into the opposite bathroom and saying you had to take a piss again. So annoying. Especially with the tongue thing. Could this guy possibly keep it inside his mouth?
You brushed past him to get to your office and Elrond tossed up a concerned look as he determined he would move in the opposite direction.
He cornered you in your office, closing your door and hardly allowing you to breathe even though there was a full breadth of windows behind you. He didn’t push you, touch you, just oddly hazel green eyes flecked with gold and amber behind his gaze from across your desk.
His voice, deep and honest, “I hate her.”
He stumbled over himself as he gathered his belongings into the messenger bag he brought every damned day.
You quirked a brow.
He drew up a half smirk, “Don’t pretend; you know who I mean.”
You maneuvered to your chair, feeling more at ease in it, in control, “I don’t because I don’t have to deal with that kind of bullshit. I’ve heard though…”
You pulled a cuticle clipper out of your drawer and he grimaced at the sound of it opening.
He drew a large form over your desk, so much larger than you and yet so diminished, “I’ve heard things too.”
You grinned, “Great, want to go tit for tat or do you want to go directly to Title IX? I promise you; I have no complaints.”
He stood back, straightening his clothing, “So, honestly, can’t fault you guys for anything. Not that I want to go back and say so; but…”
He offered a large palm in your direction. You narrowed your eyes as you stood, “Did you seriously just try to go super stupid on me as your only alternative?”
His ridiculous tongue flicked out once more and you wondered if it would be ok to cut it off with the cuticle clippers.
He shrugged his ridiculously broad shoulders. His facial hair was growing in and it seemed he enjoyed it like that. When he had arrived, he had been painfully clean shaven in the manner that made anyone who had ever shaved a delicate area feel the burn.
He leaned in over your desk, “Honestly, I’d do anything to get out; so, here we are.”
You pursed your lips as you brought your screen back online, “Honesty then? Great. For me, I’d rather you go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”
He stood back, appearing affronted but his hazel eyes darkened just slightly, a soft smirk as he reached to open the door once more, “Or whatever one I might crawl into…”
You tossed him a glare that could have brought an entire forest down in flames; and yet, he still looked at you in that manner. The kind of manner that said he knew something you hadn’t quite put your finger on.
He smiled as he left, tongue flicking out over those ridiculous white teeth, “See you tomorrow then.” You heard him as he passed the office next door, “Elrond, have a good night.”
The weeks passed and every time Halbrand bullied his way into a meeting that you scheduled specifically with Elrond to talk about things you’d prefer he not be privy to, you wanted to pluck his amazingly well-kept, yet somehow wild scruff out hair by hair.
You had already gone to Gil twice, along with Elrond, to emphasize that the little Lord of Gifts exercise had gone on long enough. His hands were tied and he made no hesitation in saying that he wasn’t exactly happy about it himself.
It twisted you in knots each time you walked into the breakroom or the atrium and found one of the ladies who worked for you absolutely fawning all over him. Oddly enough, it seemed that he took it in stride in the way someone who was unaccustomed to being chased after so openly might attempt to do it. Nice smiles, laughs, moving out of the way when someone would move in for the hand on his arm gesture.
In the instances that he caught you openly glaring, he would smirk in your direction and shrug his shoulders as he offered whatever excuse he needed to remove himself from the person. The one he let get away with it, oddly enough, was an older woman, she had been in the department long before you and was absolutely everyone’s favorite mother-figure, grandmother-figure if someone was young enough. She would laugh and put her hand on his forearm and he would offer the most ridiculously kind smile in return. He couldn’t be all that horrible of a person if he treated her decently, right?
You reminded yourself that Satan disguised himself very well. Don’t eat the fucking offered fruit! He was a damned spy, until he wasn’t, unless maybe that was the plan the entire time, infiltrate and take over.
Nori was in your office, trying to parse out exactly what you didn’t find attractive about the interloper.
“Nori, you and the other ladies need to stop drooling over the guy like he’s filet mignon from a Michelin Star restaurant. He’s just a dude and a pain in the ass dude at that.”
She pursed her lips as she twirled a pen between her fingers at your desk, “Hm, so did you two fuck or something?”
“Nori!” It wasn’t the language; you had a completely open vulgar mouth policy. It was the twisted implication.
“Well, I just remember a few summers ago when we were short staffed and you came in on weekends and ended up working over closeouts with him. You seemed to think he was pretty cool then.”
That was when Halbrand was new to the University. When he had worked in a Finance capacity outside of the office he currently sat in beside the Provost. He had been new, kind of shy, a go getter for sure, apparently played in a band outside of work and couldn’t understand for the life of him why his one band mate’s sister hit on him all the time. You had thought, then, that he was at least passible or maybe you had looked at a picture of him, his hair having been longer then, and thinking, possibly fuckable.
His hair was a decent enough length now but he kept it tame even though, on days when it was humid, the curls dared give him a run for his money as they swirled around his ears and neck.
“Different time, different people. I don’t think I ever said he was…cool.”
She leaned on her palm, “Look, I gave up on that shit in week one. The guy has no interest in any of us ladies; but he does seem to get a bit of a flicker in those pretty hazel eyes when you glare him down.”
You rolled your eyes, “Ok, Y/N, just for shits and giggles, there’s nothing you find attractive about him?”
You felt a migraine coming on, “Even if I did, which I don’t, fuck that.”
Here blue eyes lit up, “So, there is something.”
“No, not really.”
You thought about it for a few seconds. Taking in the full picture of him and honestly, you hadn’t taken the time to think about it before. You had been too angry about the circumstances.
He was tall, shoulders broad, maybe too skinny. Though, who could say what he might look like beneath all those clothes. Next, eyes, they were a really pleasant hue of hazel-green with golden, somewhat amber flakes, not green in the way you liked green. Lips, well, those were damned perfect but you wouldn’t admit it when he was constantly flailing his stupid tongue around. Tongue, don’t think about the tongue. You scrolled down the entire visage in your mind, unsure why you didn’t find the entire package as attractive as it actually was, and came to one conclusion, “Dude is probably really hairy and his ears…”
She snorted, “Let’s not get into the hairy thing; but those ears, they’re just the perfect size to use like a pair of handlebars.”
“Nori! For fuck’s sake! I’m glad you found something nice to look at but I wouldn’t let that guy fuck me with Glorfindel Goldenflower’s cock, see what I’m sayin’?”
Glorfindel Goldenflower was the hottest actor on the scene. There weren’t many women, or men, who would kick him out of bed for eating crackers.
She let out a howl as you heard a familiar voice, “I feel bad for whatever guy you’re talking about…Ouch.”
Your eyes narrowed, “Having a meeting.”
Hazel drew down on your e/c and he smirked, “Gil asked me to collect you.”
You felt bile in your throat. You weren’t one to be collected.
Elrond was now standing behind him with a pensive look on his face. You looked at your email notifications and sure enough there was something there from your Department Manager.
“Nori, give the notes to the team and we’ll touch base later. Thanks again for mentoring the new staff.”
She perused you and then Halbrand and drew in a deep breath, “My pleasure.”
Halbrand offered her a nod as she left. The next moments found you sitting in Gil Galad’s office being told the most horrific story you had ever imagined. Celebrimbor was retiring and his job would be up for grabs. Of course, Gil knew you would go for it; but Halbrand had also made it clear that he would too. Through some of the very worst set of circumstances, you found out the following:
Business and Operations would be split, half going to you, half going to Halbrand. Elrond would maintain his position as Grants Manager. You listened to Gil’s stupid face talk about how the job had been too much for one person for too long, etc., and it turned into yadda, yadda as you watched the world behind him crumble as if being torn apart by a 10-point earthquake.
The tall brunette squared his shoulders as he saw the apprehension in Elrond’s eyes and the fire in yours, such a ridiculously soft look from Halbrand, “We have a new faculty member starting next year. He is in need of some, handholding, the two of you,” his fingers splayed apart and pointed at you and Halbrand, “will go to Princeton and give him our full support, anything he needs. If you want the job when you return, you’ll make it work.”
You sat back in the chair you had taken, breathing heavily and yet steadily, trying to rein it all in. Elrond sighed and stood, “Ok, if that’s all, I’m going back to my office. I have a meeting in five minutes.”
You tossed him a look as if to call him your betrayer. Gil had never seen you look so incensed and he had been on the receiving end of your ire more times than he could count.
Halbrand stood and reached his hand out, too fucking polite, as Gil stood to shake the large palm. They both had ridiculously large hands. You need to reel yourself in. This wasn’t the time to be thinking about whatever your delusional mind was concocting.
“Poppy, at the front desk will set everything up and provide you the travel details. This PI is high stakes; so, let’s make sure we give him whatever he wants. He gets what he wants, you get what you want. That sort of thing.”
Gil swallowed deep as he attempted to regain his footing by sitting back down, back straight and narrowing his eyes.
You didn’t turn your gaze away, “If you could close the door on the way out, thanks.”
Gil swallowed again as Halbrand barely controlled his chuckle until he had shut the door.
“Y/N…” His voice was stern but yours was a fierce bite through clenched teeth.
“Gil, Brimby didn’t say a fucking word. What the fuck…”
He splayed his hands out over his desk, trying and failing to hide behind his large monitor, “He was asked not to. Look, I know, I know but this isn’t something I had any hand in.”
“Which one of you is fucking Shelob, you or the Chair?”
He slammed his hand down. It was the first time he had taken such an aggressive stance beyond the moments you had together when he couldn’t help himself, “Look, I respect you, you know I do but keep thoughts like that to yourself. You know it isn’t about that.”
You felt like you might vomit, “The almighty dollar, the Lord of Fucking Gifts. I earned that position and you know it!”
He stood and moved into a chair beside you, voice calm and steady, “You know the job’s become too big for only one person. We have 36 faculty and more than half their labs have 40 people each. Cel has been wanting to bow out for some time, you’re no stranger to that. Yes, you earned the position, and the crazy old man said he wouldn’t leave if you weren’t guaranteed a slot even if it killed him. I’ll let you decide which side you want to be on, Finance or Operations, assuming the two of you don’t kill each other on this trip and somehow appease the incoming Nobel winner.”
You let your eyes move over his, his brows furrowed, “I don’t like this, Gil.”
He nodded, placing a hand over yours with an oddly fatherlike pat, of course the blinds were open and anyone could have walked by and made an assumption, “Me neither; but we have two options, quit or soldier on. I’m no quitter and I would never believe you were one either.”
You hated so entirely that your fealty fell entirely to the faculty, the staff, the people who would fall who knew where if you were to walk away. They would probably be fine, it was only a job; but they all felt like family to you and you drew your jaw in against itself, causing your teeth to grind as you let out a long-held sigh.
“Fine but I don’t fucking like it.”
It didn’t stop you from using the next couple of hours of company time to look up jobs at other universities. Each time you found something that seemed somewhat in-line with your skills, you scoffed, too far away, too much bullshit, too much and not enough. There was a job open at Oxford, the UK might be a great place to resettle yourself. You logged off and rubbed your eyes.
The next thing you knew, you were trying to avoid Halbrand at the gate. You had successfully avoided him at the entrance to the airport, security and everywhere else; but you had to board the damned iron beast; and of course, you were sat right beside him in coach.
His legs were too long, he was too tall, he was too annoying as he scrolled on his laptop until they told him to shut it off. He smelled too…pleasant. Of course, you had two premium seats in terms of him having long legs and needing to sit in a place adjacent to assisting people off the plane in case of an emergency.
You wanted to order a drink but that would need to wait.
He let his legs fall open slightly and as his knee brushed yours, you couldn’t help but to butt up against it with your much smaller knee. He quirked a brow, hazel eyes moving over your leg, “Sorry, big boys need a little bit of room. I’ll try to keep to myself.”
You looked out the window of the airplane. It was going to be a long flight, “Don’t try, do. Isn’t that what you’re good at? Why don’t you prove it.”
Not lost on you were his words of insinuation, whether he had done it on purpose or not, you felt your core tighten. Screw that. The first chance you had, you ordered a drink. The stewardess was nice enough to show you the offerings when you mentioned you wanted whiskey. Great, little airplane bottles of Jack. Well, it wasn’t as if you were in first class.
He perused the two tiny bottles you ordered. No cup, no ice. You had seen way too many news stories about airplane ice.
You took the first down in a long swig and he gave you a look that stated he was impressed. When you unscrewed the second one, he gave you the kind of look Gil should have given you every time you ordered a glass of the good stuff at a holiday party but hardly complained about it because you had fucked him dry in the aftermath.
You let the warm liquor settle as you looked at the small bottle and then the tall pain in the ass next to you, “What? I’m paying for this out of my own pocket.”
He nodded as he returned his gaze to his laptop, having been cleared to connect it.
You tried to make yourself comfortable in the tiny seat by the window, tried not to inhale his earthy scent, tried not to side eye his computer screen that he continued to hide even though he was pretending he wasn’t.
‘Your arms are too long for that, fucker’ is what you thought as you let your mind drift to other things, anything other than his long leg running into your space every once in a while, his scent, his gaze on the computer even as he drew up his stupidly perfect lips into a smirk. It was the tongue flicking over his teeth to lick upon his top lip that made you want to, what, snap his jaw shut and thus cleave the end of it off or…nope, not that, certainly not that. Seriously, you ground your jaw, shut the airplane visor and attempted to think of something else.
At some point, you fell asleep. At some point, he found it incredibly adorable that you attempted to fetal position yourself in the small seat, face scrunched against the heavy plastic cabin of the large airplane. He found it even more indelible when your head had lolled to the side, resting along his shoulder, fingers grasping onto the more comfortable clothing he wore for flying.
The best moment for him really was after he had stowed his laptop, ensured his belt was buckled and the plane began to drop towards landing. You let out a muffled groan as your ears tried to level out the pressure and then your eyes opened slowly, your hand splayed over his midriff, softly pulling at the incredibly tight side of his abdomen.
You blinked for a moment, a soft smile before your eyes blew wide and you realized that he was sitting back with the kind of wicked grin that said he would never let you live the moment down.
You sat back against your seat, glad that you hadn’t drooled all over him but angry all the same.
“I hate you.”
Your eyes lifted the airplane blind as you watched the lights of the approaching airport fall into view, slowly floating up and down until the sudden impact of landing, flaps coming up, airplane gliding to a stop and your core clenched against itself. You really wished you had taken this trip with Gil.
He took your comment on the chin. Pretended you hadn’t said it just like you hoped he would pretend you fingering his clothing would be forgotten.
The first day was settling into the more than posh efficiencies you’d been provided, dinner with the new faculty member. The next day was overseeing his lab transition and making a bunch of promises that seemed almost impossible except that you knew the entire square footage of where they would be moving and the team that would make it happen. Another dinner and you being ready to leave on the next available flight scheduled for the afternoon of the next day.
The incoming PI had spared no expense, plying you with the very best of food and drink and you weren’t opposed to the well-aged scotch he seemed to like himself. Halbrand, took nothing, water, bottled, not opened by anyone but him as he watched your interactions. You were the type of puzzle that someone could attempt to solve their entire lives and still be missing a piece.
Indiana Jones would have had a field day with trying to figure you out. Same could be said of him. Apparently, you were both a fan.
Your rooms were right next to each other and as you dug for your key, he opened his door quite easily.
You grimaced at him, “Brat.”
He chortled, “Am I? Want me to show you how it’s done?”
You narrowed your eyes, shaking your head as you strolled over to his door, “Sure, go for it.”
The lock lit green and he pushed the door open and you didn’t bother to stay yourself, you sauntered right in.
He let the door shut behind him, clicking closed as he leaned against it and watched you move around the furniture in the makeshift living area.
You turned your gaze on him, “So, you still in a band, what was that again, rhythm guitar?”
He smirked as he moved slowly forward, “Someone has to keep the pace; but no, things didn’t exactly work out.”
You maneuvered onto the couch, “Not surprising, probably hard to deal with a guy like you.”
He practically snorted as he sat beside you, his scent too much and not enough from the distance, “It wasn’t me. The lead singer was a condescending prick. I think I deal with that enough on a daily basis. Not going to do it in my…off time.”
You turned sideways, eyes looking upwards into his at his upright position, “I’m not going to apologize.”
He smirked, “It isn’t you. You…I can handle.”
You grinned as you moved closer, “You think so?”
He offered a smug look, legs spread slightly as they had been on the plane, “I do. Just wonder what it is about me you hate so much.”
It wasn’t a question, more of an observance. You watched his tongue flick out against such wonderfully white teeth and couldn’t help but point, “That, I hate that!”
He let his head loll back slightly, “What’s that, exactly.”
You maneuvered closer still, practically upon his lap, “That tongue. I swear, I’m not sure you even know how to keep it in your mouth, is it just a thing or what?”
He smirked, “Nervous habit?”
You stared at his slightly perfectly sculpted lips as that glorious tongue licked over his bottom lip before drawing it in.
“If we’re going to work together, you’re going to need to restrain that thing. I swear, I feel like you mark your territory with it.”
He let his head fall just a bit further back, Adam’s apple bobbing, your eyes watching as it rose and fell.
“And what would you do if I was unable to…restrain it?”
You dropped over his lap, pulling his ridiculously long legs together in a show of force of some sorts and nothing about his demeanor changed, “Do it again and I’ll show you.”
He grinned, eyes slightly lidded as his hands fell just to the side of your thighs, “Really? Please, regale me with your promise.”
His tongue licked out over his top lip and you couldn’t help yourself as your drew his lovely curly hair back in your hands, extending his long neck and dropping your lips over his, biting at his tongue slightly until his big, firm hands maneuvered over your hips, finding your waist and meeting you with a subdued vigor.
There was a moment of his tongue gliding against yours and his thumbs moving under the hem of your shirt that you couldn’t argue with and then his head dropped back. You chased his lips and he held you firm with strong hands around your waist.
He knew you weren’t drunk. You probably were feeling good, a little loose; but he knew drunk and you weren’t it. Still, he had to ask, “You drunk?”
His fingers moved your shirt up just slightly more as his fingers massaged the skin they could touch.
You drew your bottom lip in with no answer until he nestled his ridiculously soft, curled hair against your chin, soft kiss to your neck, hazel eyes peeking up through glorious lashes, and then falling away once more, golden-green, the amber completely blown out by his dilating pupils, taking you in as it seemed he was contemplating something, “Are you?”
You settled yourself more firmly in his lap, “You know, I’m not.”
He pulled at your shirt, waiting for your arms to rise, to lift it over you, “Just didn’t want to hear the excuses.”
Your shirt came over you as he let a large palm move over your sternum, warm hands moving in one direction as he held your gaze, left hand moving to grasp your nape, thumb holding your jaw in place, the other tracing upwards as he surged into you, locking his tongue with yours in a searing kiss, moving against each other in a dance that couldn’t have been more perfectly choreographed.
The silence of the room shattered by the sounds of heavy attempts at breathing while refusing to release one another. His kiss, reverent yet deep as his arms closed in around you, pulling you flush to his rapidly heating form with a soft growl, only to then roll you beneath him. The assault of that annoyingly wicked tongue drowning you as his hips ground over your center.
Your legs wound around his waist, meeting each of his movements in an equal manner, soft moans rolling up your throat only to be caught by the consistent massage of his velvety muscle. Your fingers worked up his back, clawing slightly as you brought his shirt with you. He gave you a brief reprieve, a moment to catch your breath but not enough to change your mind as his shirt hit the floor. Hairy, just like you thought but not impossibly hairy. Something that spoke of masculinity in the most primal of ways.
His palms moved with soft reverence over your skin, palming one breast and then the other, pulling back, the pressure between your legs alleviated in one manner only to be ignited by another. His lips moved down your throat, pulling aside the material of your bra to allow his tongue a taste, his teeth a nibble. Lavishing each side in equal measure until your fingers tightened in his hair and your back arched just slightly. Too much and not enough.
When his hands were commanding, his mouth was reverent; and when his mouth was commanding, his hands became reverent. The differing sensations driving your mind to madness. His want to be gentle battling his need to ravage you entirely, leave you limp and unable to think as his lips trailed down your bared torso, fingers hooking into your pants, teasing the hem just slightly, waiting for you to tell him to stop; but what he didn’t realize is that your want burned hot enough to swallow his need entirely.
As he busied himself removing everything that kept you modest below the waist, you arched up to unhook and remove your bra.
His palms splayed over your calves, moving up your thighs, spreading you wide and you gasped as you realized his intentions, noticed his darkened gaze drilling a hole between your parted legs with a slow lick over his top lip. You had never felt so naked in your entire life nor had you ever felt so needy. He could have asked anything of you at this moment and you’d have done it without question. Your mind clouded by a desire you had never felt before.
He had the reputation of being shy, mild-mannered, guarded; but with you, there had always been an edge, a suggestion at the peripheral of his words, his gazes. Somehow you knew it would be like this if you ever gave into it, if he ever actually went for it and when he lowered his head and flicked his filthy, wicked, glorious tongue between your folds, your entire body shook.
He wasn’t tentative about it. He was making a damned meal out of you. Licking, sucking, nipping, humming at your taste, your scent, sugar and spice, heady and wanton as your walls spasmed and gave him exactly what he wanted. He was greedy between your thighs, even as your fingers scraped at his scalp, fingers moving into the hair behind his ears, fuck Nori was right, great handlebars, even as you threatened to smother him, he let himself drown in you until you fell apart, until he had pushed you past it, even as your eyes dripped tears of overstimulation, until he was sated.
He plied a few soft licks and kisses over your abused bundle of nerves, relished in how your body quaked each time and then he was over you again, sharing your taste and you couldn’t complain. That fucking tongue. Nervous energy, nervous tick, whatever he chalked it up to, was bullshit in your estimation, he knew exactly what he was capable of with that thing and now that you knew, it would only ever be a tease.
Your hands dug into his plump backside through his clothing. He began to move back slowly, letting your fingers work their way against his button, his zipper. Letting you pull away the material that held within something that would rival that tongue of his. Long, thick, well-trimmed you noted, and standing proud, wet and wanting.
You sat up, abdomen tight, still pulsing as you made to move into a position to pay him back in kind. You pulled his pants down further and he moved into a seated position as you removed the obtrusive garments entirely.
As you moved to settle between his spread thighs, reveling in how long his legs were, when only a day ago they seemed nothing more than an annoyance, reveling in how toned they were, not overtly muscular, just firm and perfect all the way up to the ridiculously perfect appendage laying up against his abdomen.
His equally long arm reached out, hand maneuvering into your hair, thumb tracing your jaw. You saw it as an invitation; it was but not the one you thought as he pulled you up and over him, dragging you into yet another heated, perfect kiss.
Drawing you over his lap to slide his girth against the wetness between your legs. Your body was still on a high and your clit was still pulsing with need. You mewled into his mouth before pushing back, your voice was slightly rough, dry, exactly how he wanted you, “You don’t want me to…”
He placed a large palm over your lower back, pumping slowly through your external folds, just enough to cause your core to spasm.
His voice was less affected; but still somewhat softer, deeper, more gravel than velvet, “I’m not going to stop you if you’re going to insist; but I can think of something else I’d rather do.”
He had drawn your foreheads together and you huffed against his lips.
You ground down softly with each rise of his hips, “Be honest, Y/N, I saw how you looked at it, now, what do you want to do with it?”
His fingers traced over your lips, his pupils blown wide, and words you never thought you’d hear from a guy best known for being shy, tripped a switch inside you, “You want it in your pretty little mouth or your soaking wet little cunt?”
You had heard about people truly being different in their professional lives from their personal lives. Hell, if you hadn’t been a part of it, you’d never have imagined Gil fucking anyone, let alone like a wild animal on his desk. Still, this was even more than you imagined because his foray into dirty talk sent your core into overdrive and you gasped as he took your hand, wrapping it around his appendage.
You stroked it slowly as his head fell back, plush lips opening, tongue touching his teeth, Adam’s apple bobbing as he waited for you to decide. There was no decision to be made, no reason left in your mind as you slotted him against your eager entrance and sank down slowly. The stretch almost too much as your tight walls swallowed him bit by bit.
His fingers dug into your hips, helping you to settle yourself as you let out a groan, fuck, so big, too tight, too perfect as each nuance of his cock brushed your clitoral hood.
Halbrand released a choked cough. You were tighter than he imagined you’d be. He wasn’t sure why, except that he had heard about your affair; but he knew now that he should have better prepared you. He chuckled inwardly, a dominant, younger lion garnering ownership over the pride type of emotion taking over as you finally seated him to the hilt.
He had to admit, you knew what you liked and you weren’t afraid to use him for it as you brought yourself off far more quickly than he imagined you might. Your walls pulsed around him, drawing him closer to his inevitable end; but he wasn’t there yet.
He used a strength you didn’t think he possessed to drag your body over his, hard thrusts deep into your spasming core until you tried to get away. You only tried for a moment, when it had become too much and then the pleasure came again, in waves as he gritted his teeth and let your limp form fall over him, falling into his arms as he brought you closer again to bliss, closer to his own.
“GAH, Fuck! Need you to help me out.”
You felt yourself nearing another crest, weaker than the others but still immanent. You moaned against his ear, holding onto him for dear life.
“Unless you want me…inside.”
He smirked, wondering what you might do. He had enough sense not to do something that reckless; but he knew he was going over the edge and he knew you were too.
Your legs felt like molten jelly but as you fell apart and he offered a harsh cry, between the two of you, your body rose and fell over his as he reached around to coax his spend up your back.
When his wits finally came back to him, he maneuvered you both into the shower. He tied your hair up, lathered you, bathed you as you yawned and fell against him. Legs still weak from your endeavors.
He dried you as your eyes fluttered half shut and half open. You brought your hand to his cheek, placing a soft, chaste kiss on his swollen lips and he offered a slightly quirked, wry smile before giving you one of his t-shirts and letting you fall into the large bed.
It didn’t take long for you to find slumber or to curl into that defensive fetal position you had attempted on the plane. He shook his head as he moved into the adjacent sitting area. How he wished his life was different, belonged completely to him. There was no doubt that he could make a life with you.
You were everything he had ever thought he might want. He had thought so that summer that the two of you had worked simultaneously; but he had been new, unsure, looking to get out from beneath his mentor’s name, make it on his own; and now, he was owned. Shelob had made sure of it.