Wor and Play

A/N: Welcome back! As always, these chapters are pretty long due to story, but I assume you are following the storyline by now. Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think.

*****

"What happened to your neck?" Shannon asks. I practically trip over my own two feet trying to discreetly get to her. "Where did you go? It looks like someone choked you—"

"That's what happens when I drink too much," I lie, quietly pulling my friend into the corner. "Speaking of, I don't know where my phone is and I—" I hiccup, embarrassingly, "—need a cab."

Of course, Shannon gives me this motherly disappointed look, clicking her tongue and sifting through her clutch for her own phone. "There's about two hours left of this party and people want to talk to you," she sighs. "Your breath smells like dirt, Zeke." She hands me a stick of gum.

"Okay..." I say slowly. "Still needa go home so..." I hear myself slur. I notice Gabriel in the corner, hair in place as it was before we fucked, not a bead of sweat on his forehead. I probably look like a fucked-up mess. He just acts like nothing happened, laughing—and what looks like flirting—with Jiao. Like he didn't just let me ride him hard into next week. I roll my eyes. Fifteen minutes ago, he was cleaning me up after he came in my ass, so I can be jealous, right?

"Zeke?" I hear Grayson behind me. I whip around quickly with half a stick of gum hanging from my lips. "You plain disappeared."

"I'm not sober enough to stay and Shanaynay won't call me a cab," I breathe. "I'm so tired." My hands are shaking; no, maybe that's my vision. Everything is shaking. I cannot stay here. I can't.

"I'll take you home... it's alright," Grayson offers. Shannon nods.

"Mhmm, yeah. I-I need to go home, yeah," I nod. My head feels like I filled it with hot water. I can still feel the exact place where Gabriel's hands gripped my waist, lifting me up and fucking me onto him. God, I want more to drink.

"Stay here," Grayson instructs. "I'll get your coat." I don't move at all.

Shannon sighs yet again. "You know, Grayson is still your boss," she warns.

"So he'll fire me," I grunt. "I feel like shit, and the last thing I want to do is talk to people." Grayson returns with my coat and nods toward an elevator. I blow a kiss Shannon's way before following him.

He doesn't say a word to me as he pushes the button to the bottom floor, but I have a lot to say to him. I just can't keep my mouth shut.

"What's your problem?" I snap.

"You're mad at me for some reason, and I don't think now is the best time to discuss it."

"No, Grayson. I am perfectly happy you are living an honest and truthful life with your friends. That is indeed the best way to go and everyone should follow your example," I say in the most sarcastic way possible.

"I'm not allowed to share something with my friends?" Grayson replies, staring straight forward. I groan, slamming the stop on the elevator wall. "Zeke, what the—"

"You know damn fucking well what you were doing at Olive Garden. This isn't high school, Grayson. You can't guilt me into coming out. That's not fair—" I pause to shake the pounding from my head, "—and I'm not ready to blurt my business to everyone yet. You went from my friend to a surprise gay asshole, like I'm just supposed to adjust to whatever you're feeling. That's bullshit."

Grayson stays quiet, clenching his jaw, trying to figure out how to respond. "You know I'm right, Grayson. Don't even pretend this is brand new," I snap, pressing the button to continue. He still says nothing.

I never noticed all the bumps in the road on the way to my house before, but now, every single rift in the road almost makes me puke. I groan in pain almost every time.

"Do you want me to come inside?" Grayson asks. I didn't realize we were at my house, given that my head was between my legs in the passenger's seat. "Zeke? We're here." He places his hand on my back gently, rubbing up and down.

"Yes," I admit. "Please."

------

Grayson at least lets me shower by myself, thank god. My ass is tender from Gabriel claiming authority on it, but I finger myself anyway, inevitably thinking of him. I've never been with someone of his authoritative caliber.

There were times in college when I thought I was being controlled the right way. My freshman year, Harper and Landon cornered me in my own dorm room while my roommate was gone. There wasn't a lot of kissing (none at all from Landon) before I ended up on my knees with Harper's cock down my throat. He shoved his cockhead at the inside of my cheeks, pulled my hair while he made me gag. Drooling saliva but begging for more, I started stroking myself and moaning around his dick. They were surprised—I suppose I was one of the only ones they targeted who actually was into other guys—and proceeded to treat me a little more tenderly.

Harper licked inside my mouth, filthily yet adoringly. Landon rolled a condom on his dick, lubing up my amateur hole and groaning as he felt the tightness. I spread my own ass cheeks for him, looking up at Harper adoringly, letting him know this was my game, too. I whined like a slut while Landon slid his cock in and out of me, gripping onto my tiny waist and making sure I could feel every inch of him. Harper called me beautiful as I graciously accepted their cocks in both holes, letting myself go and aiming to please.

But Gabriel was different.

For a brief second, I thought he might be hesitant throughout the whole experience, given that I'm the one who started it, but he was just as open as can be. I felt completely subjugated with the way Gabriel handled my body. Every time he made me look into those eyes, I felt small. In the good way.

I don't know why I expected Grayson to leave; he's sitting on my couch, flicking through what's on the television. I haven't had the chance to set up my DirecTV yet, so he's probably bored. I walk out without a shirt on, which shouldn't be a big deal, but Grayson instantly stares me down.

"What happened to your neck?" he asks. I shrug. "Are you okay?"

"It happens when I drink too much," I repeat the same lie. Grayson stands up and I look at him too fast, making myself dizzy. "I need to sleep."

Grayson nods, helping me to my room. "Nice bruises."

"Wha—?" I look down. Sure enough, Gabriel's hand-sized prints are on my waist. There's no denying that they look just like hands. "I bruise easily," I say.

"You're telling me," Grayson grumbles, opening the door to my room and guiding me inside. Good thing, too; I almost trip on my own feet. "Maybe when you're feeling better, we can talk about it."

"Maybe we can talk about your little stunt, too," I snap. Grayson huffs, annoyed, but he leaves anyway, and before I know it, I'm asleep.

--------

TWO WEEKS LATER

--------

My biggest fear before the St. Patrick's Day party was to end up jobless, having to be under my parent's roof again due to unsuccessful endeavors.

Now, ever since I woke up two Sundays ago with the biggest hangover of my life—I've always been a lightweight—my biggest fear has shifted to the horror of a possible STD. Or HIV.

And I don't mean that to insult Gabriel. I doubt he has anything at all. He seems like a very sophisticated, clean man. I doubt he's taken any risks in his life that could lead to any serious disease. And he did specifically ask me if I was clean...

I suppose the responsible, big boy thing to do would be schedule a doctor's appointment.

I'm most definitely worrying too much. I've never had unprotected sex, not once before Gabriel. So yeah, I was inebriated, but I was never drunk enough to put myself at any kind of risk. The way Gabriel handled me, the way he handled himself—the way I fucking lucked out choosing to fuck with a guy who definitely has a sexual history with other men... it's too lucky. If I believed in some sort of fate, Gabriel fucking me on that table is definitely an example.

But just in case...

We are supposed to get a call around Thursday to talk about building a branch specifically toward advertising. If that's the case, they might want me to be the general advertising manager of that branch. Paycheck up? Yes. CEO? Not quite.

"Knock knock," Grayson says softly. I hadn't noticed how slow it was until I look up and see the new guys over in marketing, playing trashcan ball. "Do you have a minute?"

And oh yeah, Grayson and I haven't talked at all.

"Sure," I sigh, not wanting to cause trouble.

Grayson closes the door, being mindful of the shut. "I... I don't want to bring all this personal junk into the workplace. But I also don't know how to make things right if I never get to talk to you..."

"You can talk to me whenever," I say, my voice a little harsher than I intend. "Have a seat."

Grayson sits on the chair in the corner of my room. "God, you should have MY job. You'd be better at it. So commanding and straightforward; exactly what it takes to keep this branch under control."

"I don't like to beat around the bush," I nod, indicating that he should continue with whatever he wants to say.

Grayson swathes his tongue around his mouth in that annoyed kind of way. "I didn't apologize for being so crude at Olive Garden because I didn't think I did anything wrong... at first. I was being selfish and crass for no reason other than to get you to notice that I was taking a step toward maybe being something more with you. But all it's done is make me seem childish and cause us to talk less than we did when we weren't friends. That's shittier than not being in a relationship with you."

I don't say anything, but Grayson clears his throat, adjusts his tie. "I want to forget about what happened at the dinner party, what happened at Olive Garden... you're smart. If you want something or don't want something, I trust you."

"Thank you," I nod. "Maybe we should start over, you know? With the opening of CEO coming and my new house, I know I haven't been the most... compliant person," I explain. Grayson chuckles and nods his head. "Now get the hell out of my office, boss," I tease.

"Anything you say, Nancy," he chuckles. My heart stops. I literally can't hear anything for a second while my brain speeds through several ways to react.

"What?" I say loudly before he gets the chance to leave. Does he know about Gabriel? What the hell—

"What?" Grayson repeats.

"You called me Nancy," I say, trying to keep my voice calm. "I... you... just weird."

"Negative Nancy... Oh shit," Grayson chuckles and slaps his forehead. "I wasn't supposed to let you hear that." I don't respond, giving the most confused look I can muster. "It's kind of your office nickname... instead of Negative Nelly, you know? That's too obvious."

"How many people call me that?" I ask calmly. "How long have you guys called me that?"

"It's everyone. Ever since you got here," Grayson laughs. Then he up and leaves the room with no explanation.

This means that Gabriel—before we'd even talked for the first time in that break room, before he cut his thumb—had either been told about me, or he asked about me. I haven't even seen him in the building since St. Patrick's Day. I definitely need to have a talk with him.

I pick a time when everyone seems to be engrossed enough in their work to head upstairs. I need to confront my mishappenings first hand. Jiao answers the door, of course, greeting me with a hint of smugness in her smile. "Hi, I'd like to visit with Mr. Ortega, if he's not busy," I say nicely.

She says nothing to me, but turns around. "Gabriel? Someone wishes to speak with you."

"Not right now," I hear him grumble.

"It's Zeke," Jiao replies. I hear nothing from his end for a good five seconds.

"Where is he?" Gabriel asks. Even the sound of his voice makes me break out in goosebumps. I don't know what I even want to say to him. My rehearsed apology went oh-so well with him last time. He schooled my ass. Now I'm supposed to ask him if he might have an STD?

"Right in front of me," Jiao chuckles.

"What are you—Jiao?" Gabriel sighs, annoyed. "Send him in." Jiao gives me one of her smiles as she gestures to Gabriel's office.

I step in, adjusting my glasses and straightening up my vest. "Ezekiel. Nice of you to visit. How may I—"

"Should I be worried?" I interrupt. Way to go, Zeke; say the vaguest thing that comes to mind. I don't notice that his secretary hadn't left until I hear the door slam behind her. God, who even cares at this point? Something tells me she knows at least an inkling of the situation.

Of course, Gabriel stares me down, taking me apart every time those grey eyes look me up and down. And of course, he says nothing. He just lets me stand there in my—now that I think of it, very pretentious—clothing while he dissects everything about my character without saying a word.

"No."

"No, what?" I ask, gulping. "Will you cut that out? Staring at me like I'm some idiot. And 'no' what?" I stammer.

Gabriel chuckles condescendingly—god, I realize why I actually DON'T like him—before replying. "No, your job isn't in jeopardy if you're referring to the events of two weeks ago."

"What?" I snap. "Well, duh. I mean like, should I be worried about my health or-or my safety or what? What?!" I must look like a real child throwing a mini-tantrum.

Another five seconds of staring at me. I can't decide if he thinks I'm stupid or if he wants to undress me again. "Are you implying that you're scared you might—excuse me, I might—have some sort of disease? An STD or something?" And then of course, the laugh to make me seem like a real asshole for even suggesting such a thing.

"Oh don't you dare do that to me. I was drunk and you didn't even ask before you went all in, without a condom, mind you. And yeah, this isn't a business meeting." Ugh, what about him makes me feel like a juvenile delinquent asking for some kind of punishment?

"Mr. Hartigan, I have been so invested in my work, I have not had time to give that night much thought at all. Especially regarding your intoxicated state. To answer your question, no. You should not be worried about anything regarding your health. It never hurts to figure things out on your own, however. Is that all?" Gabriel taps his fingers on the desk mock-patiently.

Damn, he's playing my own tricks on me. Being ridiculously professional for no reason other than to make me feel stupid. Grayson must get SO frustrated with me. I have some apologizing to do.

"That's all I wanted to know. Thank you," I say, just as calmly, with just as much professionalism. The tiniest pinch of me wants to do the whole movie-thing and turn around, kissing him or something ridiculous, but that ship has sailed. Looks like we're both going to have to forget about it. Clearly he has.

I run into Grayson, literally, on my way to the break room. He almost falls. "Holy—"

"Hey, Zeke... what's up?" he asks.

"Just asking Gabriel about a meeting," I lie. In my mind, I'm banging my head against a wall.

"Oh, tomorrow's meeting. Yeah, yeah. What time is it at?" Grayson asks.

"Whatever time works best for everyone, is what he said. I think you should go talk to him. He scares the lights out of me." Oh, the lies are just so easy. I can't wait until everything blows over so I don't have to keep lying about stupid shit.

"Yeah?" Grayson chuckles. "I mean... sure. I can see that. I personally thought he was pretty attractive, but maybe that's just me."

"Definitely just you," I repeat. "I couldn't... I wouldn't go there. Not even close. Not my type."

"What about him isn't your type? Do you even have a type?" Grayson laughs.

"Oh, you know. He's probably screwing that secretary," I blurt out. Then I get the feeling that what I said is definitely a probable thing. Gabriel could most definitely be with Jiao and I'd have no say in it. Am I allowed to be jealous?

"Probably," Grayson sighs. "Well, if any work needs to be done I'm gonna have to do it."

"Oh please. Hey... are you considering CEO?" I ask. Grayson shakes his head.

"I couldn't do it. Plus, I don't know if this is what I want to do for the rest of my life, you know?" Grayson replies. I nod. "Somebody else I know though... I think he's perfect for the job. Rumor has it, he's wanted to be CEO of a company since he was thirteen or something. Ridiculous." He smiles at me, grabbing my shoulder before making his way over to Gabriel's office.

Downstairs, I find another bag of coffee on my desk. I have a feeling things are going to get pretty complicated pretty soon.

------

I'm the only one late for the meeting, and that's because I couldn't find my Adderall for the life of me. I've been trying to stop taking it, but I find myself overridden with thoughts and my feet tapping constantly. I hate it. The last phone call I took probably went about as smoothly as a four-wheeler on a muddy hill. Anyone who said adulthood ADHD was simple is a damn liar.

Gabriel has set the conference room up in a circle, with all the chairs facing inward. This is something Grayson would do. Of course, the only seat available is one next to Gabriel. My lucky day. After what he said yesterday, I spent the rest of the day trying to convince myself it didn't hurt my feelings. I've had one night stands before; I've had a one night stand with someone who ended up being my partner for a project in college. I even made out with Grayson a few weeks ago. This isn't anything different. I'm not a clingy girlfriend. I can let this go. Even if I know that Gabriel didn't have to act like such a pompous—

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Hartigan," Gabriel says, sifting through a file of some sort and barely giving me a glance. The rest of the room chuckles softly. There's a table full of small snacks, so I grab a mini-muffin and make my way to sit next to Gabriel. Shannon gives me a smile from across the circle. I give a weak one in return.

"Now, I'll explain again for Zeke, Clara and Bryan: I don't know the company the way you do. I know it very personally. I grew up with it, so every decision I make may be clouded with the judgement that this is really close to my family. I set this room up so I can see all of you and connect with you personally. This isn't a business meeting. All of you are here because you show an interest, or care deeply about this company, and want to make it better. Becoming Chief Executive Officer will offer you the opportunity to make your ideas known easier, and also connect more with the consumers of OrtegaTech's products. Any questions?"

God, he smells good.

"Good. Now, I know some of you have travelled a long way, but I think it is truly important to meet at the source of OrtegaTech. My uncle had a vision for this company, and he's constantly expressed that he couldn't be happier with the strides it has taken. This branch, the one here in Colorado; OTech has this branch to thank for it's successes. Even if you are not particularly interested in the position of CEO, I thank you for being here and taking the opportunity to gain knowledge about how to really dig into the roots of OTech and help it become even more successful and beneficial to everyone who makes it a part of their daily lives," Gabriel says.

It's like it's off the top of his head. He doesn't have any cards or anything. "I want to keep this very easygoing and very relaxed. I want you all to be yourselves. So, let's get started with a simple question: how has OrtegaTech been an influential part of your life?"

For a while, I don't think anyone is going to speak.

"This job has been eye-opening for me. I get to connect with many different people on a professional and personal level, and I can't say that about other companies I've worked for. I certainly didn't stay at any of them for seven years like I have with this one," a woman says. I believe she works in accounting. I have to hold back from snorting. Really? Accounting? How much can you connect with people in accounting?