Like a Moth to a Flame

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"Oh. That's a shame. There's me thinking you were attracted to me. I don't hide that I'm certainly attracted to you. You're cute, and I dig that. I'd much rather an honest, cute guy than a conceited, self-obsessed model. Have you tried dating them? They're so up themselves, so spoilt. They know they're attractive, and boy do they expect to be complimented. I can't be doing with that. I've decided that, just because I'm famous, I shouldn't go out and date other famous people. Why can't I fall for someone normal?" He bemoaned, surprisingly sincere and opening up about how he felt. It wasn't something he usually did. Normally, he would gush about how great the models he dated were, and how things just didn't work out because of hectic work schedules. In truth, he just couldn't stand dealing with someone so high maintenance. Someone like Timothy, therefore, who was awkwardly adorable and sort of nerdy was refreshing and a much needed change.

"I suppose you don't want to get close to your employer in that romantic way. Very wise. I'm not... sensible. I do dumb stuff in the heat of the moment. You're right. This is very unprofessional of me, isn't it? I ought to rule with my head more," he laughed, albeit rather awkwardly on his part as he got out from the car and, after thanking his driver, leaned against the door of the apartment building to allow the cop to head on through. "Come on-- you're not too drunk to walk, are you~?"​
 
"No, no, I'm fine..." he reassured quietly, though did hold onto the door for a bit extra balance when stepping out of the luxury vehicle. Giving it one last envious glance, he offered a smile nonetheless before fixing his scattering. After all, he may be pretty damn drunk, but he wanted to retain some form of professionalism... for some reason. In reality, all the 'professionalism' probably flew out the door the minute he decided to join his new boss to his house. Shooting a nervous glance around, in fear of paparazzi -- something he never thought he'd have to look out for -- he genuinely was nervous enough to grab onto the other's hand as they waited outside the front step.

"Dating a model? A-Are you kidding? The closest thing I've come to, when it comes to dating a celebrity, is the head of the football team in my high school, and that was in secret. Meanwhile, you get to shmooze it up with models. Like, isn't that cool to think of in a way?" He babbled, while squirming awkwardly. "I mean, I always thought the stereotype of them being pompous was just that, you know? It's a bummer that they're conceited. I mean, what if I could hook up with one? I don't think so - attractive people tend to date other attractive people, that's why I can imagine them wanting to date you."
 
"Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm not calling all of them pretentious douchebags. Just the majority I've come across-- and you dated the head of the football team? Why haven't you told me more about that? I mean, I didn't date anyone in high school. Unless you count the brief affair I had with my English teacher..." He drawled slowly, dropping that particular bombshell with the same smug smirk on his face. He did have a habit of just dropping those sorts of comments as though they were normal and happened to everyone. He could roll his eyes at dating models, either forgetting that not everybody had that luxury, or simply not paying it too much relevance.

Strolling inside the luxury apartment block, he headed straight for the elevator and jabbed the button, and this time, he did lean on the wall in genuine need of support. He did downplay it, but he worked extremely hard, and at the end of the day, it wasn't rare to see him just collapse on his bed, in full clothing, and fall asleep. Obviously, now he was bringing Timothy up with him, he didn't want to do something that embarrassing.​
 
"Sir, I... are you okay?!" He blurted, his actual police training causing alarm at the mention of the whole student-teacher affair. It was illegal, whether the whole interaction was consensual or now, and he immediately sat up from his lounged position. Clearing his throat, he moved to awkwardly eye the man.

"... I mean, I don't think I would ever want to do that with my teacher. I mean... it's not, uh... okay? I dunno -- you're not looking too good, maybe you drank too much. I mean, I didn't think you were a lightweight~?" He tried to tease, despite the awkward air.
 
"It was totally fine. It wasn't some perverted thing. He was young, I was about 17 I think-- Oh, I don't know. I just know that I was happy to have sex with some totally handsome man, is all-- hell, was my drink spiked or something? I don't think I drank that much at the bar. Maybe I did? Maybe I'm a lightweight who really needs to get their act together. Gosh, how totally embarrassing," he sighed, wandering into the elevator and, almost as soon as he pressed the button to the top floor, he rested against the wall again with a hand over his eyes, claiming that the light was too bright.

"Seriously, I'm such a mess. I bet this is why people don't like meeting their heroes. Not that I'm saying I'm your hero, but you said you admired me. I bet this is such a let down. I can't handle alcohol, I'm flirtatious with you when you're uncomfortable with it, I... fucking invite you back to my place and, not gonna lie, I did it mostly because I thought we'd end up having sex. How awful is that?"​
 
"It's flattering," Timothy admitted, before offering to help the other a tad. "I mean, to see you like this? I guess it's a bit of a reminder that even famous, rich, fashion designers are human, right? Look, u-um... I'm not feeling too great myself, we can just lay down and get sleep right? If... If I were to hypothetically have sex with you, I'd feel awful if you're this fucked up! It makes me feel pretty good, eh? I'm a pretty good drinker, do it every weekend, but you're probably only used to like, fancy champagne."

Once arriving to the proper floor, he couldn't help but snort as he led the celebrity into his home. It was like leading an elderly woman across the street, instead of some basic few steps from an elevator. It also was pretty nice to be able to hold the man's hand without being awkward, under the guise of helping.

"Hey, I mean... maybe the next time we get this fucked up, you can come to my place? It's pretty small, but I got a fireplace and everything. Plus, I'd love to show you my rats. I don't get much company, so they'd love to meet someone new! God, how lame am I?"
 
"You're not lame. I'd love to come see the rats of yours, maybe real soon, yeah? You're not lame. If you keep putting yourself down, I'm going to have an issue with you. Quit doing that shit. You're a great person-- how often do you think I invite new assistants to my apartment? I never do. Doesn't that prove something to you?" He sighed, a little too drunk to really deliver his comments as passionately as he wanted to. In fact, once wandering into his apartment, the first thing he did was disappear into his bedroom, shove off his shirt and lay face-down on his bed.

"Hey, Timmy? You can come sleep in here, y'know? The bed's pretty big, and I'm not going to try to kiss you, promise. Unless you wanna..." He tiredly yawned, lifting his head up just a little to be able to speak. "I mean... you can stay out there, or use the spare room, though it's pretty full with designs and stuff..."​
 
"Are you sure?" He whispered cautiously, not wanting to seem so desperate that he'd jump at the offer. It had been years since he slept with a nice, drop-dead gorgeous man in the same bed. He didn't need a confirmation, of course, as he carefully slid off his loafers and shimmied out of his suit jacket. Unlike the other, though, he wasn't quite comfortable being shirtless, so was completely content simply sliding into bed, socks and all. He laid himself on his side, facing Alexander, while his cheeks grew beetroot st just what he was doing. He hesitated, naturally, before daring to offer the other a gentle peck on the cheek.

"Just, sleep up?" He insisted, before turning away properly, and screaming internally from just how proud he was of himself. Granted, he couldn't celebrate very long, because the alcohol hit him pretty hard quite suddenly, and he fell fast asleep.
 
If he had been more sober than he was, he would have definitely welcomed the kiss and returned it. After all, while he didn't make a habit of flirting with men he had met that day, he was happy to make an exception for someone like Timothy. He obviously wasn't aware of who he really was, but he did think that the man had a few secrets, and he liked that. Everyone he usually met was so vapid and transparent, so to meet someone who actually had depth and was cute? He was definitely happy to make exceptions for someone who was similar to how he thought he himself was.

By morning, he had thought that it would be adorable to make some breakfast for the two of them-- but cooking was never his forte, and when he had a hangover, it was practically impossible to get up early to prepare a meal, hence why he woke up and lounged back in bed, half-asleep, until hearing the other begin to stir.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," he yawned, not bothering to move from under the covers. He wasn't bothered if he looked messy and tired. Sure, he was usually flawless in appearance, but equally, this was his home, and he didn't need to look like he could walk a runway, especially not when he just woke up from his sleep. "Are you hungry? I suppose we could have Sandra grab us coffee and bagels for when we get to work..."

​
 
Groaning quietly at the 'loud' noise, and the bright sky, Timothy protested waking up initially by burying further into the blankets, wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep. Eventually, though, he realized he wasn't alone in his apartment. Once peaking his eyes open, he tried to coolly run his hands through his messy hair, though the urge to vomit hit him hard, and he scrambled out of the bed in search of the toilet.

Thankfully he found it, with no time to enjoy the beautiful decorating. After getting sick a solid few times, he shamefully wandered back to the bedroom, covering his face. He wasn't a lightweight, so to get so violently sick was more embarrassing to himself than anyone. Nonetheless, he returned with a frown before wearily flopping on the bed.

"Morning..."
 
"Holy crap, are you alright? I mean, I thought I was the really drunk one, but I don't feel like throwing up. Saying that, I haven't thrown up in years, if we overlook the time I gorged on three pizzas in one night because I was dumped by my boyfriend-- anyway, you're not too sick for breakfast, are you? I may be completely unprofessional and a big kid, but I want Sandra to think we've been up to no good, you know? That girl needs to have some fun, she's so... serious. I think it'd be funny. Besides, it's not totally unbelievable. I'd have kissed you by now if you hadn't have violently thrown up. Kinda a turn off," drawled the designer as he wandered to his walk-in closet, while deliberately shooting him a playful smile as he passed on by. He was casual and cool, as he usually was... even if a few people had been murdered in his bedroom. He was smart enough to clean up really well afterwards, and there wasn't a single piece of evidence to murders in the apartment. He didn't invite people around often, but when he had someone he liked, it was inevitable that they would come to his apartment at some point... and he hardly wanted someone to stumble across a bloody knife, did he?

"Come on, don't you want to borrow that suit? It'll fire up those rumours even more-- oh, we could walk into work hand-in-hand, how cute would that be, Timothy? I've done that once, with another designer friend of mine-- who I want to meet for lunch today. You'll need to organise that for me."​
 
Loosening the tie he had warn to the party, that of which he had barely thought of taking off when he went to sleep, he took a weary seat on the bed and cleared his throat of the acid lining it. Thanks to this situation not being a first, he was surprisingly well-adjusted after it, as was evident as he offered a few quick swallows and returned to his feet in a quick minute. Curiously, he wandered over to the walk-in closet. Two things hit him. 1. He was, technically, Alexander's assistant. That thought hadn't really hit his mind until organization was mention. 2. He was, more importantly, a cop. It was easy for him to forget his true role among the flashy glamour and the high luxury drinks. Instead, in reality, he was just some misunderstood cop that was forced to be bait. The thought caused him to frown, though he wiped it away once noticing the other's jovial smile. Matching Alexander's, he offered a quiet chuckle.

"I mean, I thought celebrities tried to avoid drama? If... If you really wanted to start suspicion, we could kiss? I could, I dunno... Do you have mouthwash? I have my phone, you could post it 'anonymously' or something. I've never been so devious, you know? I've always been by the books, so something like this sounds pretty fun, to be honest. By the way, were you serious about the whole 'blonde' thing?"
 
"Hm? Oh, sure I was. Blonde would suit you, and even if it doesn't, it'll be fun finding out, won't it? Fuck what people think. If you decide to try it, that'll be cool-- here we are~! Hold still, would you?" He casually demanded, going straight into work-mode as he held the suit up against his assistant thoughtfully, head tilted to the side a little before letting the serious expression fade. "It's adorable, you should keep it. It'll fit you nicely-- it won't fit me now. I think I've put on weight. I blame all the cheesecake I eat... and the lack of exercise. Who has time to go to the gym? I went twice, and the second time was only because there was a really cute guy there."

Grabbing his own clothes for the day -one of his usual suave suits-, he proceed to tug on his shirt there and then. Considering he had been topless throughout the whole exchange, he had no hesitations in getting changed in front of him-- and he didn't really have a reason to. Despite making fun of himself, he was far from being in bad shape, however much he convinced himself he was.

"We could kiss, sure we could-- but I thought you were professional? Kissing your new boss wouldn't be very professional of you, would it? Not that I'm rejecting the offer. I'd love a good ol' smooch with you," he admitted, pausing midway between tugging up his trousers to simply grin handsomely over at the other. "I can't work out whether you're shy or a minx, you know? You confuse me, in a good way."​
 
"I-I don't know. I don't really know anything, you know? I mean, its too early for an existential crisis." He quietly replied, while eyeing the suit curiously. It was certainly... extreme, compared to what he normally wore. It was definitely not comfortable, and it certainly was flashy, but if this man wanted him to wear it, sure. Hell, he was willing to go blonde, which had way more consequences. Nonetheless, he shyly closed the door to the walk-in closet, far more cautious of his body -- despite the fact that he, himself, was surprisingly fit from his months of police training, and years of karate prior.

"... How do I look?" He eventually asked, as he stepped out of the walk-in closet dressed in the outfit. It looked pretty snazzy, he would admit, but it certainly would turn heads for different reasons. Unlike Alexander, he didn't give off the air of style or fashion. Nonetheless, he offered a smile to convince himself more than anyone, and tried to strike a pose like the models he studied on the internet.
 
"Honestly? Is ravishing too dramatic of me? I've been called theatrical, flamboyant, hyperbolic... Oh, I think you'll turn heads-- have some confidence. You'll need it to pull that look off, which I think you're capable of. Why would I give you the suit if I didn't think you could wear it properly? I wouldn't ever set you up to fail," he grinned, taking a moment to simply observe him -and the cute pose- while adjusting his tie, before nodding in further approval. If truth be told, he had been offering the suit purely to earn some brownie points and there was a slight hope of getting further compliments from him, but he was happy to take full credit for how well it suited the cop, even if that wasn't his initial prediction.

"I suppose we should really get a move on. I have what seems like a thousand pieces of paperwork to deal with, and you need to organise that lunch for me. Make sure we walk in hand-in-hand, alright~? I want to get tongues wagging, it'll make things far more interesting in that office. I do like drama. I'm rather awful, aren't I?"​
 
"Oh, yeah! Sorry, I mostly worked in the evening, so I've never really woke up and immediately had to leave," he explained, before hurriedly moving to grab his old clothes and fold them neatly. With a smile, he snatched his bag and carefully kept it over his shoulder. After all, it did hold his tablet that he intended to write tiny notes on every now and then while working, and they were in New York City, it was safer to keep things as close as possible.

"I'm a little bummed, I was excited to decorate my desk, I mean, I guess I gotta wait 'til tomorrow to properly decorate, but I believe in a homey work space, you know? Like I said, I want a proper cactus to keep me company. Cubicles can get lonely, in my opinion." He babbled, that being the most exciting part of the job, he hoped. "Will I have to get you coffee and food and stuff, too? I mean, it's no problem! Walking around is good exercise, huh? Oh! The handholding! Sure!"
 
"Sandra usually handles my breakfast. I'm always in a rush, and she has it waiting for me when I get into the office-- I've texted her that she needs to make the order twice, so I've already planted a seed of curiosity. How about we walk to the office? it's really not that far. I mean, I'm hoping some paparazzo snaps a picture of us, actually. How cool would it be to have your face in the magazines without even worked properly for me yet?" He laughed lightly, grabbing a few bits and pieces to shove into his backpack before strolling out to the elevator. He was a fashion designer, quite obviously, but he was quite happy to don a sharp suit... and an incongruous Adventure Time backpack. He somehow managed to pull off the two extremes rather well-- though it was hardly surprising. He had often teased that he could wear a sack and make it look fashionable.

"We didn't get that kiss, though. Shame, that. You look incredibly kissable in that fine suit. Blonde hair and a good set of sunglasses and you'd be irresistible," continued Alexander, grinning wider when the space between them lessened with the closing of the elevator doors.​
 
Tim replied with silence, as he let his eyes lock on anything but the man. With his fists clenched, he rummaged to quickly find his phone. Setting up the camera quickly, he carefully tugged Alexander's tie to pull him forward into a quick, but heated kiss. He wanted to do it, anyway, but now he had an excuse. Taking the picture properly, he pulled away to observe the picture and hoped to hide his flared cheeks.

"... There. I'll post a fake Twitter account and spread it out. I don't know where else you would want it? But, I... hope it's good enough? I'm no photographer." He insisted quietly.
 
"I mean-- I didn't exactly expect you to go this far, but it's pretty cool of you. Hey, you're really into having fun, aren't you? Like, I tried this shit with my old assistant and he told me to stop being so childish and to 'be more serious'. In fact, I think he told me I disappointed him because he'd had this grand illusion of me being stern and strict. I suppose I need to mature, but where's the fun in that? I like having a laugh, enjoying my work and... I don't know, gossiping? That's another little thing you can do for me. You hear any gossip about anyone, I want to know. Like, Sandra. That girl's such a mystery. Everyone in the office tries to get information out of her, but she's so... shy about that stuff. If you see her with a guy -or a girl, nobody really knows which she prefers- then tell me? I like a good bit of gossip," the man continued, happy to change the subject like that and drone on about nothing remotely important simply to take the attention away from the kiss. Granted, he would have happily gushed about it, and how he thought the spark between them was consolidated by the affectionate moment, but he didn't think that Timothy could cope with that sort of focus right now. The only response he gave was gripping Timothy's hand in his own - he felt that answered how he felt about the kiss enough without words.​
 
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"She seems to like me, which is good. I mean, she's sort of my boss, too, right? Like, the head of the assistants, right?" He murmured, though kept his hand holding the other's tight as the elevator moved slowly. Typing away quickly, he only occasionally glanced over at the man, only to shyly look away once again.

"Yeah, business is important, but this is business, right? Like, fun business, but business. It keeps you in the papers, right? I've only ever saw movies about this sort of job, so..." he babbled, before shooting a small smile. Despite what it seemed, Timothy was never much of a 'fun' guy when it came to work. He was straight-laced, and someone who often worked by the books. This was certainly a change from just doing paperwork and answering calls. He had to do that, sure, but to make out with his boss? He probably would be shot if he did that at the station.
 
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