Chapter 6: Blissful day at work
Alan's day at work is going about normally except for the scolding he received from his boss for being late. his mood was not deterred at all. He was feeling better than he has in a long time. The memory of the night before played in his mind on a constant loop. He couldn't help but replay every moment of their intimate encounter over and over again. It was as if his brain was trying to imprint it permanently into his memory.
Alan couldn't believe it. He was finally with Jan, the woman he had secretly been in love with for months now. And not only that, but their connection was stronger than he ever could have imagined. They fit together perfectly, like two pieces of the same puzzle. He daydreamed his way through his tasks on autopilot, his mind a million miles away. It was only when the janitor's cart rattled down the hallway that he snapped back to reality.
As he worked, he couldn't help but think about the night before. He had never felt so connected to anyone in his life.
while still in a daze, his coworker appears before him suddenly. Alan absently minded greets his co worker warmly and friendly apart from his usual demeanor.
"Hey man. hows it going?"
Alan asks his coworker, surprised at how easily the words roll off his tongue. His co-worker looks taken aback by the sudden warmth from Alan.
The coworker responds as if he was already aware of something. "You tell me. Had a fun night?" the coworker says crossing his arms and smirking.
Alan's heart skips a beat, and he feels his face grow hot. He tries to play it cool, but he knows he's blushing furiously.
"Uh, yeah. I did." Alan replies awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with his coworker.
The coworker laughs. "I can tell. You've got that 'just got laid' look on your face."
Alan's mortification is complete.
He can feel his face burning up, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him whole. He chuckles nervously, trying to play it off as a joke, but his co-worker isn't buying it.
"I....I don't know what you are talking about." Alan replied, his voice shaking slightly.
"Oh come on. you aren't fooling me!"
the coworker persisted with an amused smile. "I could see it a mile away! You've got that 'walking on clouds' look. And besides, I heard you stumbling in here this morning, moaning about how you overslept. I put two and two together, and well, here we are."
Alan shrank visibly as he knew the jig was up.
"So who is the lucky person?"
the coworker asked, a knowing grin spreading across his face.
Alan felt his cheeks growing even hotter, but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said again, but his co-worker knew better.
"oh I think you do. and i'm pretty sure I know who it is. I just want to hear you say it." The coworker says staring at Alan
expectantly.
Alan bit his lip, hesitating. He didn't know if he was ready to share his personal life with the rest of the office.
after total silence from Alan,
the coworker decided to play a little game and let the cat out of the bag, "was it jan? you were with jan last night weren't you?". The coworker's voice was filled with amusement and curiosity.
Alan felt his heart leap into his throat, and he couldn't believe that his secret was out. His face turned red, and he couldn't find the words to respond.
"I- I, um, I don't know what you're talking about." Alan stuttered, trying to deny the truth.
"Oh? Then what was she doing coming out of the closet you were in the other day hmm?"
the coworker asks, smirking knowingly.
Alan's heart sinks as the realization hits him that his secret is out. His face grows hot with embarrassment, and he avoids his coworkers gaze.
"you're terrible at lying you know that?"
The coworker said, still grinning from ear to ear.
"I-I guess I am." Alan admitted, hanging his head in defeat.
"Ha I knew it! When the hell did this start? she hardly talks to anybody!" the coworker continues.
"Thats none of your business." Alan says
, trying to maintain his dignity.
His coworker grins. "I knew it was Jan! good for you, buddy. About time you got yourself a girlfriend."
Alan can feel his face growing hotter by the second. "We're just friends." He insists, even though he knows it's not true.
His coworker rolls his eyes. "Sure you are." He says sarcastically.
Alan sighs, knowing that he won't be able to convince his coworker otherwise.
"keep denying it if you want, but you can't hide that you are absolutely glowing today for a very obvious reason." the coworker laughs as he walks away.
Alan is left standing there, feeling a mix of embarrassment, excitement, and annoyance. He can't believe that his secret is out, but at the same time, he can't help but feel a sense of pride. He was with Jan last night, and it felt amazing.
Alan swings his mop around, trying to distract himself from his racing thoughts. He can't stop thinking about Jan, about the way she looked in her white underwear, about the way he felt beneath her, about the way she moaned his name. He can feel his body responding to the memories, and he has to take a deep breath to calm himself down.
He knows he can't go around looking like a nervous wreck all day. He has to keep up his composure, at least until he can talk to Jan again.
He finishes up his tasks for the day and starts to head home. As he walks out of the office building, he can't help but feel a pep in his step. He had a great night with Jan, and he was feeling positively giddy thinking about it. His phone vibrates. Its a picture message from Jan.
A selfie of her on her bed, wearing the same white bra and panties she had on last night, with the caption: "Missing you already..."
Alan's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, and the glow of the screen lit up Jan's easy smile, the white lace of her bra and panties stark against her skin. The caption hit him like a punch to the chest.
He let out a strangled sound and pressed the phone flat against his sternum, hunching his shoulders as if that could hide him from the whole world. His heart hammered against the glass. He darted a glance down both ends of the hallway. Empty. Silent.
He slowly pulled the phone away, looked at the message again, and felt heat creep up his neck. His thumb hovered over the reply field, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a shaky smile.
His thumbs moved before his brain caught up. "You're so beautiful."
He hit send, then stared at the screen with his heart lodged somewhere in his throat. The little bubble popped up. Three dots. Dancing. Mocking him.
Then her reply: "Come back and tell me that in person."
Alan let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. A grin cracked across his face, wide and unguarded.
He tucked the phone away and jogged to his car, the grin still splitting his face. At his apartment he grabbed a fresh shirt, a toothbrush, and the crumpled note from his wallet, smoothing it flat against the dash.
Twenty minutes later he stood at Jan's door, knuckles raised. Before he could knock, it swung open. Jan leaned against the frame, still in that white lace.
"Took you long enough," she said, stepping aside to let him in.
Alan stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind him. Jan rose onto her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, unhurried, familiar, like a habit she'd already formed.
Alan froze. The kiss was gentle, sure, as if they'd done this a hundred times. He pulled back just enough to search her face.
"You're... very comfortable with me," he managed.
Jan's eyes crinkled. "Why wouldn't I be? I've been waiting for you all day."
Alan let out a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, what would you like to do tonight?"
Jan's smile widened, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the living room. "We're going to play video games," she said simply.
"In our underwear," she added, tossing the words over her shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Alan's face went red. "In our... you mean, like—"
"Exactly like that." Jan laughed, steering him toward a couch piled with blankets. A game console hummed on the TV stand, the screen glowing with a paused game. She grabbed a pair of controllers and handed one to him, already settling onto the couch and shimmying out of her pants and blouse with practiced ease.
Alan's hands moved on their own, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall to the floor. He paused at his belt, glancing at Jan. She raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
"Don't be shy now. Not after last night."
He shrugged off his pants, standing in his tighty whities. Jan looked him over appreciatively, then patted the couch beside her.
"Good boy. Now sit."
Alan sat, grabbing the controller. Jan leaned against him, her warm shoulder pressing into his. The game blared, but he couldn't focus. Her scent filled his head.
"I keep mistiming the dodge on the second phase," Jan said, gesturing at the screen. "The boss telegraphs a grab, and I always roll left when I should roll right. Died on this level four times already. It's driving me crazy."
She navigated to the co-op menu and queued him up as player two. Alan's character materialized beside hers, a scrawny knight holding a dented shield. Jan snorted. "You got the ugly one."
The level loaded. Jan's character sprinted forward, and Alan followed, fumbling with the buttons. He'd played a little back in his twenties, but nothing like this. The camera swung, the boss slammed down, and Jan dodged left. Too late. The grab connected, spinning her character into the dirt.
"See? Left." She groaned.
The screen flashed with the prompt to revive. Alan pressed the button without thinking. Her character popped back up with a sliver of health.
"Nice," Jan said.
The boss lunged again. Alan found the rhythm in his hands quicker than he expected. While Jan peppered it with arrows, he rolled right, then right again, landing a clean counter that staggered the beast.
"Wait, how did you do that?" Jan asked.
"Lucky timing."
She died twice more. Both times Alan revived her within seconds, dodging the boss's follow-up swing while the animation played out. His eyes stayed on the screen, his thumb steady on the joystick. Jan went quiet, watching him.
"Where'd you learn to play like this?" she murmured.
"Just reads the pattern. It's like mopping. You learn where the mess comes from."
She laughed, a real one, and the boss's health bar hit zero. The victory jingle rang out, and Jan dropped her controller, turning to face him fully. Her grin was bright, almost suspicious.
"Okay. You're carrying me from now on."
Alan shrugged, a slow smile creeping across his face. "Deal. But I'm picking the character next time."
Jan leaned over and kissed him, quick and warm, then grabbed her controller again. "Fine. But if you lose us this run, I'm making you sleep on the couch."
She queued the next level, and Alan settled deeper into the cushions, her shoulder still warm against his.
Jan set her controller down mid-level and rose without a word. She padded to the kitchen, the soft light catching the curve of her hips. A moment later she returned with two glasses and a bottle of red wine.
"Figured we could use this," she said, settling back beside him.
She poured, handing him a glass. Alan took a sip and hummed. "That's good."
Jan smiled, swallowing her own.
The wine warmed its way down, loosening something in both of them. Jan's thumbwork got sharper as the bottle emptied, her dodges landing clean and her counters coming fast. She whooped when she finally staggered the second phase boss, spinning to grin at him.
"Did you see that? Left, then right, just like you said."
Alan laughed, raising his glass. "You're a natural."
They pushed through two more levels, then a third. Jan called out enemy patterns before he saw them, and he covered her flanks without a word. Their characters moved like one body now, trading aggro and heals without any communication beyond the occasional "got it" or "nice."
"Okay, I take back what I said about you carrying me," Jan said, nudging him with her shoulder. "We're a team."
Alan's chest tightened in a good way. "Yeah, we are."
The level faded to a save screen. Jan stretched her arms overhead, letting out a satisfied sigh. "I'm starving. You hungry?"
Alan's stomach answered before his mouth could. Jan laughed, bright and warm.
"Pizza?" she asked, reaching for her phone.
"Pizza sounds perfect."
She propped the phone against her ear, scrolling one-handed through a delivery app while she waited. "Pepperoni? Mushroom? What are we feeling?"
Alan shrugged, a soft smile tugging at his mouth. "Whatever you like."
Jan caught his gaze and held it. "I like a lot of things," she said, her voice dropping just a touch. "But for dinner, I'm thinking extra cheese and pepperoni."
"That works." He watched her place the order, her fingers moving easily over the screen. She set the phone down, and the confirmation pinged through the dark living room.
"Twenty-five minutes," she said, settling back against his side and picking up her controller. "That's plenty of time for one more level."
The level opened with a wide, torchlit arena. Jan's character rolled forward, and the boss slammed its club down where she'd just been standing. She cursed, backing off. Alan moved in from the side, but the boss's second swing caught him mid-dash and sent him flying into the wall.
"Okay, so it's one of these," Jan muttered.
They tried again. This time Alan read the telegraph, dodged right, and landed a solid hit before the boss's follow-up crushed Jan into the floor. She groaned, waiting for the revive prompt. Alan hit it immediately, but took a grazing blow to his own health bar in the process.
"We're getting closer," she said, watching the boss's health dip below half.
The third attempt, they almost had it. The boss staggered at fifteen percent, and Alan went in for the finish. Then a stray attack clipped him mid-swing. His character crumpled. Jan barely dodged the follow-up, managing to buy him a revive with seconds left.
The boss teetered at five percent, health bar blinking red. Alan swung, Jan rolled in for the finishing blow. The grab caught them both. Their characters crumpled at the same instant, the screen flashing a double defeat.
Alan dropped his controller and let out a long groan. Jan stared at the screen, then turned to him. They looked at each other, both caught between frustration and ridiculousness. The laugh burst out of them at the same moment, loud and unguarded.
"Okay," Jan said, wiping her eyes. "New rule. Whoever dies next answers the door for pizza in their underwear."
Alan glanced at the door, then at his shorts. "You'd really make me do that?"
Jan grinned, already reaching for her controller. "I absolutely would. But I'm also very competitive, so I'm gonna win this next round anyway."
The doorbell rang before either of them could move. Jan froze, her eyes going wide. "It's the pizza."
Alan stood, the laughter still in his chest. He padded to the door, checked the peephole, and opened it a crack. The delivery guy held the box, his gaze dropping to Alan's tighty whities.
"Uh... you good, man?"
Alan shrugged, taking the pizza. "Rough boss fight."
He closed the door with his foot, and Jan was already there, her eyes bright with delight. "You actually did it." She took the box, setting it on the counter, then pressed a warm kiss to his cheek. "I like you more and more every minute."
Alan's cheeks flushed as he took the box from her. "Yeah, well. You make it easy."
They ate on the couch, pizza slices balanced on napkins, the game paused on the double defeat screen. Jan talked between bites about her favorite levels, about a childhood spent glued to a hand-me-down console. Alan listened more than he spoke, but he found himself adding small details. The hidden shortcut in the third zone. The trick to baiting the first boss into its own trap.
Jan set her slice down and studied him. "You know, you're different when you're not hiding."
Alan paused, a bite halfway to his mouth. "Different how?"
"Relaxed. You smile more." She tilted her head. "I like it."
He set the pizza down, suddenly unsure where to put his hands. "I guess I'm just... comfortable. With you."
Jan's eyes softened. She reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, her touch lingering.
"Good," she said quietly. "Because I want you to keep feeling that way. With me, I mean. As long as you'll have me."
Alan stared at her, the words hanging in the air between them. His mouth opened and closed, useless. He had spent months, nearly a year now, watching her from doorways and hallways, convincing himself she was out of reach. She was the one with the office and the spreadsheets and the quiet confidence. He was the one with the mop bucket.
He waited for the punchline, for her to laugh and say she was just messing with him. But her eyes stayed steady on his, and the only sound in the room was the hum of the console and the crinkle of the pizza box.
"Jan," he said, and his voice came out rough. "I've had a crush on you since the first week I started here. I used to time my rounds so I'd pass your office twice. I thought... I never thought someone like you would even look at me twice."
She set her slice down and turned to face him fully. "Alan. You think I don't notice who's kind to me? You're the only person in that building who treats me like a person instead of a colleague. You think that's nothing?"
He shook his head slowly. "I just... I don't get why you'd want me. Like, me. I clean bathrooms for a living."
Jan reached out and took his hand, her thumb tracing the calluses on his palm. "You're a good man, Alan. You work hard, you're gentle, you make me laugh. I don't care what you do for a living. I care that you're here."
He felt the sting behind his eyes and blinked it away. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll stay," she said softly. "That's all I'm asking."
Jan's hand stayed on his, warm and sure. The pizza box sat forgotten between them, its lid half open, the cheese cooling.
"I sensed it," she said, her voice low and even. "The first time you came into my office. You barely said two words, but I could tell. Sweet, soft spoken. You were nervous, but your eyes were kind. I figured I'd be proven wrong eventually. People usually are what they turn out to be, and not in a good way."
Alan opened his mouth, but she shook her head gently.
"You turned out to be exactly right. You're gentle, Alan. You don't try to impress anyone. You just do your job and you're nice to people. That's so rare I almost didn't trust it."
He looked down at their joined hands, his throat tight. "I'm not that special."
"You are to me." Jan leaned back against the couch, pulling her knees up. She was still in just her bra and panties, completely unbothered. "You know what I love about this? About us?"
He shook his head.
"I can be weird around you. I don't have to perform. No office smile, no small talk about the weather. I can sit here in my underwear and lose at video games and eat pizza straight from the box and you don't care."
"I like it," Alan said quietly. "I like all of it. I like watching you get frustrated at the game. I like how you curse under your breath. I like that you don't hide anything."
Jan grinned, reaching over to steal a pepperoni off his slice. "And I like messing with you. The way your face goes red when I say something bold. The way you stammer. I didn't realize how much fun it would be to tease you until I started doing it."
Alan felt the heat climb his neck. "You're enjoying this."
"Immensely." She popped the pepperoni into her mouth, chewing with exaggerated satisfaction. "And I'm not going to stop."
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "I figured."
Jan set her slice down and turned to face him fully, crossing her legs underneath her. Her expression shifted, the playfulness softening into something more serious.
"Alan. I need to tell you something."
His stomach tightened. "Okay."
"I've never felt this close to anyone." She said it plainly, without drama. "Not friends. Not family. Not the few people I've dated. No one has ever gotten this far in. You're the first person who's ever seen me without my armor."
Alan swallowed. "Jan..."
"No, let me finish." She held up a hand. "I've had people try. I've had guys in the office ask me out, and I always shut them down. I don't know why I didn't with you. Maybe because you never asked. You just kept showing up, day after day, doing your job, being kind. You never wanted anything from me."
"I wanted plenty," Alan admitted, his voice rough. "I just didn't think I had a shot."
Jan smiled, soft and warm. "You had a shot from day one. You were the only one who ever took it."
He stared at her, the words sinking into his chest. The warmth spread through him, slow and steady. He didn't know what to do with it. He'd spent so long telling himself he wasn't worthy of this kind of attention that hearing it out loud felt like a lie.
"I've never had this either," he said finally. "I've never had anyone this close. I mean, I've had friends, sort of. Coworkers. But no one who wanted to know me. No one who wanted to sit on a couch and lose at video games with me. No one who looked at me like I mattered."
Jan reached out and cupped his jaw, turning his face toward hers. Her thumb traced his cheekbone. "You matter, Alan. You matter to me."
He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. His voice came out barely above a whisper. "I've spent my whole life feeling like a loser. Like I was just filling space. I never thought anyone would look at me the way you do."
Jan's hand stilled. Her eyes searched his face, and something shifted in her expression. A tenderness he hadn't seen before.
"Alan. Look at me."
He opened his eyes.
"If there was any man in this world who could make me feel the way you do, I haven't met him. I've been waiting for someone like you without even realizing it. And now that I've found you, I'm not letting you go."
His breath caught. "Jan..."
"I mean it." Her voice was steady, sure. "You're not just some guy I'm hooking up with. You're not a fling. You're the person I want to come home to. The person I want to be weird with. The person I want to mess with and laugh with and sit in my underwear eating cold pizza with."
Alan let out a shaky laugh, blinking against the sting in his eyes. "That's a lot."
"I know." She smiled, soft and mischievous. "But you can handle it. You're tougher than you think."
He looked at her, at the way the dim light caught her hair, the way her eyes held his without flinching. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was standing on solid ground.
"Okay," he said quietly. "I'll stay."
The words hung there, warm and true. Jan's smile softened, and she squeezed his hand. For a moment, everything felt right.
But the old voice crept back in, the one that had followed him through every empty hallway and forgotten lunch break. He looked down at his lap, at his pale legs in their cotton underwear, at the calluses on his palms from years of gripping mop handles.
"You know I mean it, right?" Jan said.
"I know." He swallowed. "But me? Really? I'm a total loser..."
He looked down at his lap, at his pale legs in their cotton underwear, at the calluses on his palms from years of gripping mop handles.
"You know I mean it, right?" Jan said.
"I know." He swallowed. "But me? Really? I'm a total loser..."
Jan moved. She set her pizza down, shifted across the couch, and took both his hands in hers. Her grip was warm, steady. She waited until he lifted his eyes to meet hers.
"I know. You're a huge loser." Her voice was soft, but it cut clean through him. "And so am I. No man has ever made being a loser look so good." A pause. "So let's be losers together?"
The words hit him in the chest like a physical blow. His eyes narrowed, his breath caught, and his heart slammed against his ribs. Something cracked open inside him, a wall he'd built so long ago he'd forgotten it was there. The look on his face must have been unbearable, because he felt the raw edges of it in his own throat. Pure love. Pure craving. All of it naked on his features.
Jan's smile came slow and soft, a warmth that spread across her whole face. It was a smile he'd never seen on her before. A smile she didn't know she had.
Alan surged forward and kissed her, hard and deep and desperate. She made a small sound against his mouth, then her hands were in his hair, pulling him closer. They fell back against the couch cushions, tangled up in each other, and the pizza box slid off the armrest and hit the floor with a soft thump.
Nobody picked it up.
The kiss broke, and Jan's eyes were on him. Not soft. Not playful. They were dark and hungry, a look that stripped him bare and told him exactly what she wanted.
"Alan." Her voice was low, rough at the edges. "Do whatever you want to me."
The words hit him like a live wire. He didn't think. He grabbed her hips and pulled her across his lap, her thighs straddling him before he even registered moving. Jan's breath came out in a sharp gasp, and she rocked against him, the thin cotton of her panties dragging over the bulge straining in his tighty whities.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," she breathed against his mouth.
He kissed her throat, her collarbone, the soft swell of her chest. She arched into him, one hand fisting in his hair while the other slid down his stomach, palming him through the cotton. He groaned, bucking into her grip.
"Jan, I—"
"Don't ask." She pulled her panties aside, wet and ready, and ground her bare cunt against the damp spot on his underwear. "Just take me."
He fumbled with his waistband, shoving his briefs down just far enough to free his cock. It sprang up, hard and aching, the head slick with need. Jan reached down, wrapped her fingers around him, and guided him to her entrance.
"Fuck," she hissed as he pushed inside her, her walls clenching around him, hot and tight and perfect.
He gripped her hips and drove deeper, and she cried out, head falling back. She rode him hard, her ass slapping against his thighs, her cunt gripping him like it never wanted to let go. His hands roamed up her back, under her bra, squeezing her tits as she bounced.
"Don't stop," she panted, leaning in to bite his lower lip. "Don't you fucking stop."
Alan's fingers dug into her hips, and something in him snapped. He grabbed her waist, twisted, and drove her down onto her back against the cushions. She gasped, hair splaying out beneath her, and her legs came up around him before he even settled between them.
He shoved his briefs down, kicked them off his ankles, and slid back into her in one smooth motion. Jan's mouth fell open, a raw groan spilling out as he bottomed out inside her.
"Fuck, yes," she breathed.
He pulled back until just the head caught at her entrance, then drove in again, deep and deliberate. Jan's back arched off the couch, her nails digging into his shoulders.
Alan set a rhythm, heavy and honest. Every thrust carried everything he couldn't say, the months of watching her, the wonder that she wanted him, the terror that it might all vanish. He buried his face in her neck and moaned against her skin.
"I love you," he gasped, the words torn out of him, raw and unplanned.
Jan's legs tightened around his waist, heels digging into his ass as she pulled him deeper. Her voice came out cracked and desperate against his ear.
"I know. I love you too. Fuck, Alan, I love you so much."
He drove into her harder, and she met him, thrust for thrust, her hips rolling up to take every inch. The couch creaked beneath them. Her moans filled his ear, hot and broken, and he answered with his own, groaning into her hair.
"Yes, don't stop, please don't stop," she whimpered.
He couldn't stop. Every pump of his hips said it all, the way she clenched around him, the way she whispered his name like a prayer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him sloppy and open-mouthed, swallowing his moans while her cunt milked him.
"I'm close," she panted against his lips.
"Come with me," he grunted, his balls tightening, his whole body straining over her.
She cried out, her walls clamping down around him as she came, and that was all it took. Alan buried himself to the hilt and spilled inside her, groaning her name as the pleasure ripped through him.
They slumped together, chests heaving, skin slick where they touched. The fan clicked overhead, and nothing else moved. The world had gone quiet, the way it does after a storm, and Alan's ears rang with the after-ring of his own pulse. He could feel Jan's heartbeat hammering against his ribs, or maybe that was his own. He didn't know. He didn't care.
Minutes passed. Neither of them spoke.
Alan's arm came up on its own, wrapping around Jan's back. She made a small, wordless sound and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. The sweat cooled on his skin, and the room refilled with the smell of pizza and sex. The console hummed, the paused game still glowing on the screen. The pizza box lay on its side on the floor, a few pepperonis scattered across the rug like lost soldiers.
He didn't move to pick it up.
Jan's hand drifted down his arm, lazy and warm. Her fingers found his and laced through them. She squeezed once, and he squeezed back. That was all.
After a long time, he stirred. he eased himself out of her, she winced as he moved, and reached down to pick up the pair of white panties from where they'd been kicked aside. She stepped into them, pulling them up over her hips without a word. Her bra stayed where it had fallen.
Alan watched her, his limbs heavy, the world still soft at the edges. He reached down for his briefs, bundled up on the floor by his ankle. He tugged them on, the cotton clinging to damp skin. They sat there for a moment, breathing.
Jan held out her hand. He took it.
They stood together, unsteady, a pair of swaying statues coming to life. Jan's legs wobbled and she leaned on him for a step before finding her footing. Alan's own knees threatened to buckle, but he held, one hand braced on the wall, the other still locked in hers.
They didn't speak. The hallway was dark, lit only by the spill of faint light from the living room. Jan's feet padded soft on the wood floor, and his were quieter, the sound of skin on warm boards. She led him into the bedroom without turning on the light. The shadows pooled in the corners, and the curtains glowed faintly with the distant city.
She pulled back the covers and climbed in first, moving to the far side. Alan followed, sinking into the mattress beside her. The sheets were cool and smooth against his overheated skin. They settled on their sides, facing each other in the dark. Her hand found his hip. His found her waist. They pulled close, legs tangling, foreheads nearly touching. He needed her closer, needed the weight of her body against his, needed to feel her heartbeat against his chest. He shifted, pressing himself flush against her, her arm sliding around his back, pulling him in tight. This was what he'd been craving. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she buried her face in his neck, her arms circling his waist in return, their bodies pressed so tightly together there was no space left between them. This was everything.
Her breathing slowed. His evened out to match.
The last thing he felt before sleep pulled him under was her warm breath on his lips, her hand curled against his chest, her leg hooked over his. The last thing he heard was the soft hush of her exhale, and then nothing at all.
The rhythm of Jan's chest against his ribs became an anchor. Every long, quiet exhale brushed against his collarbone, matching the steady pace of his own lungs. The tension that usually lived in Alan's shoulders simply gave way. The mattress seemed to rise up to cradle them both, holding them in the still, dark bedroom.
Years of restless nights and early morning alarms faded into background noise. Alan did not toss or turn. He did not wake to listen to the pipes groaning in the walls or the hum of the refrigerator. Whenever his mind drifted toward consciousness, the weight of her thigh hooked over his legs pulled him right back under into the black.
It was the deepest, most restorative sleep Alan had known in years. Jan shifted once, burying her nose into the hollow of his throat with a soft, sleeping sigh. He responded on instinct, his arms tightening around her bare waist, keeping her anchored flush against him until the room began to gently gray with the very first hint of dawn.
Jan blinked awake in the dim twilight, her chin propped on his chest. She watched his relaxed face for a few quiet moments before speaking.
"Are you always this warm?" she whispered, her voice husky from hours of unbroken rest.
Alan opened his eyes slowly, a lazy smile touching his lips. He ran a hand down the smooth curve of her back, feeling rested down to his bones.
"Only when you're holding me down," he murmured.
Jan chuckled, her fingers trailing down his stomach toward the waistband of his briefs. "Then I guess you're stuck here."
Her fingers paused at his waistband. Alan caught her wrist and pulled her up until her lips brushed his. Their mouths met slowly, morning sweet, and her thigh slid over his hip as she pressed flush against him.
He rolled, pinning her beneath him. Their legs tangled, his chest flat against hers, her arms vice-tight around his ribs. Her chin hooked over his shoulder. His cheek pressed into her hair.
"I need you closer," she breathed.
He pulled her in until the air between them thinned to nothing. She gave a shuddering sigh, all tension gone from her body.
Alan buried his face in her neck, breathing her in. "There's no closer than this."
Her laugh was soft. "Well not without us fucking again."
Alan laughed, a weak, breathless sound against her hair. He squeezed her tighter, his arms folding around her until her spine pressed flush to his chest.
"You're going to be the death of me," he said.
Jan grinned against his neck. "Good way to go, though."
She wiggled her hips back into him, deliberate and slow, and he felt himself stir despite everything. Her hand drifted down, fingers curling over him through the cotton.
Jan's hand froze on his waistband. Her head turned toward the bedside table, eyes catching the glowing red numbers of the clock. She let out a long, low groan.
"God dammit," she whispered.
Alan twisted to look. 6:47. They had somehow, against every reasonable expectation, woken up on time. But barely.
"Oh no," he muttered.
"No," Jan agreed.
She flopped back against the pillow, arm thrown over her face. Alan stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the workday settle onto his chest like a blanket made of wet cement.
"We have to go," she said, muffled.
"I know."
"Both of us."
"I know."
She peeked out from under her arm. "You going to be able to handle seeing me across the office all day without jumping me?"
Alan laughed, tired and warm. "I've done it for a year. I can do one more day."
They lay there, tangled, pretending the clock hadn't just murdered their morning. Alan's arm stayed locked around Jan's waist, her leg still hooked over his, and neither of them moved to break the spell. She tilted her chin up and he met her halfway, a slow, syrupy kiss that tasted like sleep and toothpaste from the night before. Then another. Then a third, softer, the kind that lingered just for the sake of lingering.
"That's it," Jan murmured against his lips. "We're calling in sick."
"We can't," Alan whispered, and he hated the sound of his own voice.
"I know." She kissed the corner of his mouth. "I hate it."
"Me too."
Another kiss, this one longer, her fingers curling into his hair. The clock ticked past 6:49. Then 6:51. Alan could feel the seconds slipping away, each one a small theft from the warmth of her body against his.
He squeezed his eyes shut. "If I don't get up now, I won't get up at all."
"I know."
She still didn't let go.
It took a full minute of agonizing, silent negotiation before either of them moved. Jan's leg slid off his hip first, slow and reluctant, like it was being pried loose. Alan's arm stayed around her back until the very last second, until the distance between them had grown so vast it felt like a canyon. He sat up, and the cool air hit his bare chest, and he wanted to crawl right back under the covers.
"Jesus," he breathed.
"Yeah." Jan sat up beside him, her hair a mess, her eyes still heavy. "This sucks."
They stared at the floor for a moment, two people who had just lost something they hadn't realized they'd been holding.
Jan reached over and took his hand. "Shower. Together. I'm not letting you leave without one more minute of you."
Alan's chest tightened, but he nodded. He stood, felt the ache in his legs, and helped her up. They shuffled to the bathroom, still touching, her hip brushing his knuckles, his hand landing warm on the small of her back.
The shower was small and the water took a second to warm up. Jan stepped in first, pulling him in after her. The spray hit his shoulders, and she pressed her forehead to his chest, letting the steam wrap around them. Neither of them spoke. There was nothing to say that wouldn't ruin it.
Alan's fingers found the soap first. He lathered his palms and reached for her shoulders, working slow circles over the smooth skin. Jan let out a soft breath and tilted her head back, letting the water run over her hair.
His hands moved down her arms, her sides, tracing the dip of her waist. She had goosebumps under the warm spray. He worked the suds into her back, her hips, the curve of her ass, every inch she let him touch. She leaned into the wall, letting him take his time.
When he turned her around to rinse her hair, Jan's eyes were soft. She took the soap from his hands without a word and poured it into her palms. Her hands made their own path across him. His chest, his arms, the flat of his stomach. She worked the soap into his back, her fingers pressing into the knots he hadn't known he carried.
Alan stood very still. He had never been taken care of like this. Every touch was careful, present, unhurried. She washed the grime of his work life off him, and he felt something loosen in his chest he hadn't known was clenched.
"Your hands work hard," Jan said quietly.
"So do yours, love."
She looked up at him, surprised. The word had slipped out. She smiled a slow, deep smile.
"I like that."
Alan's throat tightened. He reached for her again, pulling her close under the spray, soap-slick bodies pressed together. The heat between them was unavoidable now. He felt her want against his thigh, and his own body responding without permission.
Jan felt it too. She pressed her forehead to his chest and let out a shaky breath.
"We can't. We'll be late."
"We're already late," he said roughly.
"I can't call in sick again, Alan. They'll know. And you got chewed out enough last week."
He knew she was right. It felt like swallowing gravel, but she was right. He rested his chin on top of her wet head.
"I hate my job," he said, the words coming out dull and honest. "I've never hated it before. I used to just do it and go home."
Jan's arms tightened around his middle. "I hate mine too. I used to love my spreadsheets. Now they're just what's between me and you."
The water ran cold beneath them. Neither of them moved toward the tap. They stood there, two people who had found the only thing worth wanting and had to walk away from it for eight hours.
Alan chuckled and sighed, shaking his head as the water dripped off his chin. "What am I? A damn teenager?" He laughed again, the sound bouncing off the tile.
Jan grinned, water streaming down her face. "A horny one, apparently."
"You're no better," Alan said, grinning.
Jan's eyes flashed. She stepped into him, water sluicing down her chest, and pressed her palm flat against his hardening cock. "Damn right I'm not. I've got it bad, and I'm not ashamed to say it."
Alan's breath hitched. He backed her against the tile, one hand braced beside her head. "Good. Because I'm not ashamed either."
She laughed, low and wicked. "Then stop wasting shower time."
He kissed her, and the water ran cold over them both, and they didn't care.
The cold water finally bit through the heat between them. Jan gasped, pulling back, her skin pebbled with goosebumps.
"We have to go," she said, her voice thick.
Alan killed the tap. They dried off in frantic silence, towels slapping skin, steam already fading. Jan threw on a blouse, buttoning it wrong, cursing softly. Alan tugged his pants up and nearly fell over pulling on his boots.
At the door, Jan grabbed his collar and kissed him hard, quick, fierce.
"Tonight. Back here. You're staying again."
Alan grinned. "Try and stop me."
Alan started down the hall, boots scuffing on the tile. He made it ten steps before he stopped. Turned around. Leaned against the wall outside her door, arms crossed.
From inside, he heard the rustle of the pizza box. The lid of the trash can. The soft thump of cardboard hitting the bottom. Then the pad of her bare feet on the floor.
The building was the same as always. The fluorescent hum, the ammonia sting, the squeak of his cart wheels. But Alan moved through it like a man in a dream. He'd walked these halls a thousand times, head down, invisible. Now he couldn't stop the smile tugging at his mouth.
He was wiping down a conference table when he heard her footsteps. He knew them now. He looked up, and there she was, clipboard in hand, walking past the open door. She didn't stop. But her eyes slid to him, and her lips twitched into a smile so quick and private it nearly stopped his heart.
He ducked his head, grin splitting his face. The table got a second wipe. A third.
The morning crawled. He emptied trash cans, refilled soap dispensers, mopped a spill by the break room. Every time he passed her floor, his eyes scanned for her. And every time, she found him.
Once, she was in the hallway talking to a supervisor. Alan walked past with a mop bucket, and she did it. A tiny, almost invisible smile, just for him, before her face smoothed back into professional calm. He nearly tripped over his own feet.
A coworker named Ray caught him grinning at nothing. "What's got you so happy, Alan? Win the lottery?"
"Something like that," Alan said, and kept mopping.
At lunch, he saw her in the cafeteria. She sat alone at a corner table, her salad untouched. When she spotted him, she didn't smile. She mouthed something instead. Tonight. Then her eyes crinkled, and she smiled, a real one, wide and warm and all for him.
Alan's heart stuttered. He raised his thermos in a small salute, and she covered her mouth to hide a laugh.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of shared glances and stolen grins. Each one a secret only they knew. The clock couldn't move fast enough.