#helioreo

The broach you wore, an anatomical heart was the only rebellion you showed, but it was fitting. Your real self was so easy to see even the professional veener couldn't hide it completely.

A spirit that even the corporate world couldn't snuff out.

Was there any wonder he couldn't stand this place when you weren't around?

"Oh, sorry I almost forgot! Was there anything else you want me to do before I go?"

Usually, he'd think of something. If he was honest, there was always some busy work to be done, but it had been a particularly hectic quarter and he didn't want to impose too much.

"You're good to go unless there's something you need from me. I don't mind treating you now and again, you know."

Sometimes you'd ask for a soda, to restock some of the good peppermints. To doordash dinner to your place. Very rarely, you told him about how someone mistreated you. Venting that you probably didn't think would mean anything in the long run, as replacable as your position was in the grand scheme of things.

It was so cute how you didn't notice how much his peers were starting to respect and fear your influence.

"Okay boss."

Even cuter how carefully you had to step closer to his desk. He'd never let you fall, but there had been close calls. His eyes were fixed on how you looked down at your feet, a habit you tended to fall back to when other people were around.

He wouldn't lie, it made him a little nervous. It wasn't as if he didn't like doing things for you, or that he didn't find himself wanting to share even more, but what if this was… that?

Rare occassion that it was, people had managed to slip past his vigilance and reveal themselves to be seeking something from the Mikage name. That prestige, that burden. He couldn't entirely blame a person for wanting to use him, if only it wasn't so damn boring.

You're standing beside him now, next to the Herman Miller chair he sat in. The massive mahogany desk that's usually between the two of you isn't, which is new.

He turns to face you, and is a little surprised at the expression you were wearing. It's not one that he's seen, not like this. Your eyes are wide and fixated on his face, just on the cusp of something. A soccer hooligan, a pleading staff member he'd been forced to let go as a lesson, a person dancing on the line between desperation and action.

"Did one of the other secretaries offer to give you stress relief?"

The pained tone in your voice made him want to reach for your hand, but he settled for resting his elbows on his thighs and his chin in his hands, listening.

Nodding.

He hadn't accepted it, why would he? The play was so obvious if he'd been on the pitch the ball would have never even sniffed at the box. "Mister Mikage", he'd said, as if that wasn't the verbal equivalent of a cold shower.

"Did you want it from them?"

"Of course not, no need to-"

"Do you want it from me?"

Before his brain processed the words, his cock throbbed for it, for you. The memory of your wild laughter, the way you looked at him in a way that he couldn't define. Shit.

Saying no would be the right thing to do. A bold-faced lie, but the optics remained, and he didn't want to misuse you. A promotion, a raise, you'd have it without having to do anything like this.

"You're getting a bit too dedicated to your role, aren't you?"

"Who gives a fuck about my role? You know I could take this job or leave it, what I'm dedicated to is-"

His head tilts at your cursing, the surest sign that you were being yourself. He'd had to reprimand you about it before for appearances's sake, but it wasn't any more colorful than he'd heard in locker rooms.

But if these were your real feelings, then what was it that you were saying?

"Boss, I-"

His legs spread as you knelt between them, resting your hands on his knees, nuzzling your cheek against his suited thighs. When had you gotten so bold? What could have possibly possessed you to stare up at him like that, lips parting just so perfectly? Your lips were dry, gloss long since lapped off with the demands of the day.

Hair a mess because you couldn't keep your hands out of it when you got stressed out.

If you'd calculated this at all, it didn't add up to anything that made sense to him. The combination of figuring out your game and the sight of you like this was getting him harder by the second.

"Don't. With any of them."

Them?

Was it that simple?

"Are you jealous?"

He'd never forget the way your body went slack as you groaned, as if it was an agonizing truth you'd been holding in forever. His hands sunk into your hair, not pulling you closer just yet. It could wait until he'd heard you out completely.

"All the time."

That shouldn't be as satisfying as it is.

But it's so-

Only so much someone could pretend day in and day out, and it made him wonder how long you'd felt this way. If you would have given in to whatever this was at all had someone not pressed the issue.

"How so?"

What did anyone else here have that you wanted?

Tugging your hair back gently but just so, he tilted your face up so your throat was bared to him. It crossed a line that had already been stepped across, and the soft gasp you made was clearly a pleasured one.

"I could deal with it. Never would have said anything if they didn't plan on trying you until you gave in."

An answer to a different question, but he was more than willing to let that go for now. Sliding his hands down to yours, he tugged you up to your feet, laughing at the way you yelped in surprise. It was nothing to pick you up by your hips and place you on the desk.

The confusion on your face brought a wide smile to Reo's. It was as if you'd forgotten your propostion altogether. He'd have to teach you how to negotitate properly.

"Trying me…. it'd certainly take more than offering me something I don't want."

Turning his back to you for a moment, he moved to lock the door.

"But you look so stressed about it. It's hardly condusive to a health work enviroment, and I want you at your best."

His smile is brilliant, terrible like a leviathan. It's horrid, it's ghastly, it's so beautiful.