áčAfter hours. Coworker!matt x coworker!reader.
Matt wasnât sure when it had gotten so late. His laptop said one thing, but his body said another. His eyes were burning from staring at spreadsheets, his back was stiff, and heâd only just wrapped up two calls that had been waiting for hours. When he finally saved the last file and closed his laptop, it felt like something heavy slid off his shoulders. He rubbed his face with both hands and only then noticed how quiet the office had become.
He turned off the light, shrugged on his jacket, slung his backpack over one shoulder, and stepped into the hallway.
Thatâs when he heard it.
Soft music, playing faintly from one of the desks in the open area. At first, he thought someone had left their speakers on. He walked a little furtherâand there she was.
Sitting in front of her laptop, the screen lighting up her face. No headphones this time. The music was coming straight from her speaker: mellow pop, calm and melodic, slowly filling the empty corners of the room.
She looked up when she heard him and quickly turned it down, a little startled.
"Oh, sorry." She smiled shyly. "I thought everyone had already left."
Matt gave a tired smile and walked over slowly, his steps muffled on the carpet.
"Me too. Just finished. I donât think Iâve stopped since lunch."
She raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Still juggling three spreadsheets at once?"
"Yeah, kinda. Plus two phone calls from people who seem to think the world ends if I donât reply before six."
"Fair enough," she gave him a little smile, angling her body slightly toward him without taking her eyes off the screen. "I got caught up too. I sat down to organize some old campaigns. Just noticed the time."
Matt looked at her for a moment. That kind of late-evening feeling: the kind that only exists inside an office full of cold lights, silent furniture, and windows that reflect how tired you are.
"Still got a lot left to do? Do you want a coffee or somethin'?" he asked, dropping his bag beside her desk like he wasnât planning on leaving anytime soon.
"Nah, it's alright. Iâm almost done. But thank you."
He nodded. He really should goâbut instead, he pulled up a chair and slid it next to her desk.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked, in that tone that didnât really sound like a question.
She glanced sideways at him, a small smile forming.
"You donât have to stay, y'know?"
"Oh, I know," he said, already sitting. "But I wanna know who thought that awful beige color was a good idea for the May campaign. Was that you?â
They hadnât always joked like this. But ever since that night at Mattâs place, something unspoken had started to settle between them. Now there was a quiet comfort in the way they teased each other. Like they both knew it was safe to do it. Expected, even.
She laughed, shaking her head, rolling her eyes. "Here we go."
And just like thatâit started.
At first, they talked about work. Little things. Presentations. Emails they were sick of. Then the conversation shifted without them noticing: shows, music, random stuff. The music from her laptop kept playing quietly in the background, filling the space with no real urgency. Her voice had that light, almost cheerful tone, and she typed less and less. Eventually, the laptop was pushed aside, and she turned fully toward him, getting comfortable in her chair.
They stayed like that. Talking.
Time slipped past without asking.
Until a notification made her glance at her phone. Her eyes widened. She stood up quickly.
"Shit, I need to go or Iâll miss my train," she said, scrambling to pack up in a rush that didnât quite suit her.
Matt gave her a half smile, not thrilled about having to call it a night. He stood up too, slower.
"I can drive you home if you want."
She looked at him while still gathering her thingsâsurprised, maybe unsure.
"You donât have to. Youâve had a long day. Itâs kinda lateâ"
"Thatâs exactly why I should," he cut in, slipping her backpack over his shoulder to help herâand maybe, just maybe, to make her stay a little longer. "No way Iâm letting you chase down trains at this hour."
She didnât protest. Just lowered her eyes for a second and when she looked back up, there was a small smileâone of those that shows up when something unexpected doesnât feel bad at all.
They turned off the last few lights and double-checked everything before leaving. Their steps were quiet as they walked out of the common area together.
When they reached the elevator, she glanced sideways at him. The silence between them still felt easy. Comfortable, even. That didnât happen oftenâwith anyone. But neither of them said it out loud.
The ride home was quiet in the best way. Mattâs car smelled like his cologne and generic car freshener. The stereo was on but barely audible. Their voices filled the space instead, like neither of them wanted to break the rhythm of the conversation that had started back in the office.
When he pulled up in front of her place, she unbuckled her seatbelt and looked out the window.
The house was a little worn, but well-kept. Charming. The porch was neat. There were a few flowers by the door. It looked like one of those houses you see in old movies.
"Nice place," Matt said, half smiling.
She turned slightly and smiled back.
"Thank you. And⊠thanks for the ride. I would've been on that train forever."
"Of course, anytime." he said, letting his hands drop from the wheel into his lap.
She hesitated for a second before opening the door.
"Iâd invite you in⊠but the place is a mess. Didnât get a chance to clean."
It didnât sound like an excuse. More like a half-invitation, with the real intention pretty clear.
"I owe you one," she added, with a soft smileâmaybe a little hopeful.
Matt caught that. His smile tugged to one side.
"Then invite me over for dinner sometime. Thatâll make us even. And you can give me the full house tour."
This time, she didnât even try to hide her smile. He got it. They were on the same page.
