Crush/Boyfriend Imagines

working late 3 (requested)

The tapping of your computer keyboard was the only sound echoing in the otherwise empty, void of any people, room. Your nails jabbed against the keys as you typed the email, taking sips of your tea prepared by none other than your boss C/n.

The screen light was beginning to hurt your eyes a bit the later it got, the sky's color changing to a darker hue each passing minute. Turning on the lamp you had by your desk and turning on the pc's night mode, it immediately relaxed your strained pupils.

The tea was the perfect blend of sweetness and bitterness - you did not quite comprehend how that man managed to do it each time so perfectly. It left a subtle taste on your tongue as you swallowed and sooner than you knew, the mug was empty and your body was calling the nature.

Using it as a pleasant little break, you strolled into the direction of the restrooms, taking your time. After all, after you'll send that last email, you'll be done for the day and free to go home - to get a lift and spend a bit of time with your boss in his car - you just needed to word it to your liking and voila, hit send and your work is finished.

Although, you had to admit, you began to feel slightly guilty for asking your boss for a lift whenever you stayed late. You knew it was his offer anyway and he made sure to assure you he did not mind and that you could count on him without any doubts, but you couldn't help but feel as if you're just adding weight to the one he was already carrying on his shoulders.

And was it heavy, girl.

By stealing a little amount of sleep each night he drove you home and then had to turn and drive to his own in the totally opposite direction. By stealing a little amount of his time when he still wasn't finished with his responsibilities in the office but he drove you home anyway, then drove back to the company to continue where he left off. Maybe he would've looked a little less tired if he got just a few minutes more of sleep, would've finished at least a bit earlier if you didn't trouble him for a lift.

And you did nothing in return, just smile and thank him as you exited his car, just waited until your payday in impatience.

But it wasn't like you didn't want to do anything - but what? There was tea on your desk before you even got to the kitchen to perhaps make it yourself this time for him. And you didn't know what he liked, what he enjoyed. Wouldn't it be weird to get your boss a gift out of nowhere?

Even though you talked whenever he drove you, even though it felt as if you were friends, even - it was still plain and apparent he was your boss and you his employee, and you still weren't quite sure where are the borders of the two relationships. You didn't want to cross any lines and ruin everything.

As much friendly as it looked between the two of you, you never got in touch if it wasn't related to your work or the company itself. The car rides were the sole exceptions where you had a chance to learn something about him as a man, a person, but the time in the car was limited and short.

After all, you couldn't be sure if he thought you were friends as well. Maybe it was just you, one-sided.

You realized you had been standing in the middle of the restroom for some time now, just thinking. When you snapped back to reality, you quickly washed your hands - you didn't remember whether you washed after using the toilet or no, so better do it twice than not at all, right - and, drying them hastily against your thighs on the fabric of the skirt you were wearing, headed back to your department.

At first, you couldn't quite put your finger on it why it seemed a bit more lit up in the big, empty room. The only source of light (except the moon and streetlamps outside) was your lamp on the desk you and a coworker shared together. But somehow, the shades seemed slightly more defined and the light seemed to take on a notch of brightness to it.

As your head looked up, you found out where the added light came from - the slightly ajar door the your boss's office.

Did he forget to close it properly behind him? you thought.

But for a reason, the door opened just a bit seemed kind of inviting you inside.

Before you realized what you were doing, your feet were already carrying you towards the door, towards the split of light escaping from the room behind. Towards the man you knew you'd find in there.

You knocked and only then did it occur in your head - what you'd tell him if he asked your reason to come?

"Come in, Y/n," a low rumble came from the opposite side of the door.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. He already knew it was you. But of course he knew. He must've seen everyone else was gone. He knew you were the one to stay after your shift.

"Hey," you said as you stepped in through the door, not closing it all the way again as it was before, and your eyes traveled over your boss's frame. He was sitting behind his desk, head leaned on his hand, eyes weary and eye bags under them darker and more pronounced. He coughed before straightening himself in his chair, motioning for you to come closer.

"Going home already? Wait just a second, I'll give you a ride." He made a move to stand up but you quickly stopped him.

"No, no. I have to finish just one thing," you said, then, when he gave you a confused look, added, "I just... thought I'd come by to say thanks for the tea." Your voice was small in the presence of the man.

He managed a smile on his tired face, even though it didn't quite reach his eyes nor did it not really brighten his face as usual.

"You should rest," you suddenly told him.

He looked up from the papers in front of him again, casting a glance at you.

"Really, your body needs to rest. This much work can't possibly be any good to you," you tried to explain. Slowly, you took a few more steps towards him until you stood directly behind him.

"I know, I do know that, just-"

His words got cut off when you raised your hands and placed them on his shoulders, feeling his tensed up muscles beneath his smooth skin. You began to circle your thumbs and moving your fingers to massage him, to at least provide a little bit of relaxation to him.

Without saying anything, he leaned back against the chair and threw his head back, eyes closed. You worked his tight muscles until your hands hurt and until the knots disappeared, all the while in silence, not saying anything.

"I didn't know I needed this so much," he admitted after your fingers ceased its movements and you just softly held them on his shoulders. He was still leaning back, not opening his eyes as a yawn broke past his lips. His voice was groggy with sleep.

"You should go home now," you whispered. "Leave this for tomorrow and get some sleep," you continued, referring to all the documents scattered across the surface of his desk.

He reached up to place his big hand over yours. "Thanks, Y/n. I guess sometimes I just need a little reminder." He chuckled slightly.

"Well, I could be that," you offered sheepishly. His hand had yet to leave yours as the clocked ticked away the night and your cheeks burned a scorching heat of redness despite the coldness outside. You saw him smile as he turned his head to you for a second, a real smile, before he stood up and guided you home.