Work Text:
Working in a huge international corporation sooner or later makes everyone feel like a giant bag of dicks. It would probably make even the Queen of fucking England feel irrelevant. Aiden Pearce wasn't an exception. Sometime around noon, in the middle of April he was standing outside the building, smoking third cigarette in the row and glancing nervously at the watch. His break time was running out, he was feeling stressed and nearly nauseated on thought of going back to the building. His project was NOT going well and not even three packs of fags smoked in next 4 minutes could fix it. He paced back and forth in front of huge window. On the display, hanging, was an absolutely hideous PR poster inviting people with different skills to apply for the job in the company. "Holy shit, even the lady on the fucking poster looks like she's calling for help due to being in hostage situation" he thought to himself, putting out the cigarette.
2 minutes left. He considered taking out another one, hoping that maybe cancer might take him faster than he has to come back to his desk, but he realized that his lungs actually started rebelling against the smoke, so he put the pack into his pocket and turned around. He suddenly faced a rather non-corporate looking guy, who seemed terribly lost.
"Hey man, sorry to bother, I'm looking for Human Resources?" He said, looking at Aiden, and then switching his gaze to the poster. "Holy shit, this poster is terrible."
"The one taking the picture is probably holding her on gunpoint. I mean I wouldn't be surprised." Pearce grumbled, taking two pieces of chewing gum into his mouth.
"Is it so bad?" The guy shifted his weight from one foot to another, giving him a worried look. "I mean I heard some crazy shit about it but it probably isn't..."
"All true."
"Even the legend of a guy cutting his own wrists and filling the water dispenser with blood?"
"Especially that. Poor Stan."
"Damn... Name's Damien by the way."
"Aiden."
* *
The afternoon coffee was perfect - bitter and dark as the soul of his manager. Aiden took a huge sip, ignoring how hot the liquid was and raised his gaze to meet eyes of his “coffee companion”.
“Tastes good?” asked Damien, tapping quietly on the table with the tea spoon.
“Like death - just as I like it” answered Aiden and small smirk appeared on his face. Damien snorted and shook his head.
“Well aren’t you a little, cuddly ball of positivity.”
“Oh yes, I’m very cuddly. There possibly are some victims of my cuddling, strangled to death.” Aiden gave him a toothed grin. He already kinda liked Damien, he had this kind of aura that allowed him to diplomatically say “fuck off” to the whole world, and the world would enthusiastically fuck off and still be extremely excited about the journey ahead. He admired that. Don’t misunderstand, Pearce knew exactly how to be manipulative and intimidating, but this kind of social skill was rather foreign to him. He was charming and at the same rather mischievous, probably would be able to sell a pair of boots to a guy with no legs. Even though he was slightly older, he was handsome, wrinkles only adding to this feature. The only issue was this stupid goatee that got in the way. It wasn’t just stupid, it was horrible. He frowned, his jaw clenched; he realized that he’s gotten angry at a patch of hair on some guy’s face and shook his head. Work has began leaving a stigma on him, some anger management session would probably be needed soon. Damien gave him a puzzled look.
“What?” he asked, leaning forth towards Aiden. “Something on my face?”
“This...stupid...goatee.”
* *
Weekend was the best part of the week. No suit, no dress shoes, no identificator and beeping of the doors. No fax machine doing those awful noises (who on earth still uses fax?!) and no project stealing ass kissers. And the weather was nice. Aiden felt like a fucking champion of the world, looking around the rather silent park. They were walking down the alley, towards the bar that was on the other side of the plaza. Damien looked at Aiden with slightly amused expression.
“You suddenly became Mr. Sunshine, Aiden” he said and turned towards a bench. “Wanna sit your ass?”
Aiden shrugged and plopped down on the bench, Damien joined him soon afterwards; he grunted quietly, laying his hand on his knee.
“What’s up with your leg?” asked Pearce, tapping his foot to the tune of music played by some guy further ahead.
“I fucked it up a few years ago, a dumb mistake and a big damn price.” answered Damien, matter of factly, but did not continue.
Aiden nodded, decided against pressing the subject, instead he looked up, meeting a rather arousing gaze of blue eyes.
“If you wish, you could sit on the other one” Brenks added with a smirk and patted his right thigh.
“Well if you insist…”