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The breaks between scheduled meetings bore Ivo to tears. So do the meetings themselves, really; the stiff, formal socialisation, and the seven hour flight each way, and the lack of his machines. All of it is so mind-numbing that he dreads the events unlike anything else in his calendar year.
But, still, the breaks. Precious moments of time, often a whole half hour, wasted milling around in the cramped break room sipping at subpar coffee while every single pitiful person within sight avoids Ivo’s gaze. It’s a lonely affair atop a grating one. Ivo always finds his way out of it halfway through, slipping into the thin, painfully plain corporate hallways to catch a few moments of peace before diving back into yet another glorified lecture.
Since the appointment of Agent Stone as his personal assistant — or rather, a handler of sorts, if the government rats had any bearing over it — Ivo has found he can rely on the man to report back with any important information or particularly juicy gossip. He mingles with relative ease, worming his way into conversations with a few words and a bright, charming smile. If Ivo is to take him at his word, Stone doesn’t particularly enjoy the socialisation, but it nets him invaluable intel.
So, Ivo retreats to the halls and Stone talks to whoever Ivo needs dirt on next. Sometimes, he slips a bug into the breast pocket of Stone’s suit, allowing him to hear the conversation as clearly as if he were there. It proves to make the allotted break times somewhat more exciting, even if he has to sit through the menial small talk various people engage with Stone in.
Case and point;
“You’re joining us in the field again sometime, right?” says the person Stone currently talks to. Short but muscular, the agent in question is halfway shielded from Ivo’s view where he stands just outside the doorway as the break room slowly empties in staggered groups. She smiles too widely at Stone, speaks too easily to him, leans closer with an air of familiarity about the gesture. Ivo decidedly dislikes this.
“Ah, well…” Stone rubs at the back of his neck, ducking his head a little with embarrassment, yet still smiles. “I’ve got plenty of work here.”
“Oh, c’mon, we all know you coddle that man. He’s got, what, four PHDs?”
“Five.”
“Five, right!” The agent gestures a little wildly with her hands, one curled around the handle of a thick mug. “I’m sure he can take care of himself for a day. It’d do you good to get out there again.”
“I don’t know.” Stone pauses. “I like the position I’ve got.”
“Of course you do,” she responds, tone light and teasing. Ivo gets the feeling there’s some sort of joke there that he’s missing; Stone’s eyes widening with a mild amount of panic only serves to exacerbate that. “And it is a good job, but… Look, there’s a routine training day coming up in a few weeks. Surely you could manage one day off for that?”
“I’ll have to check with my doct-” Stone pauses, cutting himself off, “My boss, with my boss.”
The other agent — whose unimportant name has long slipped Ivo’s mind — nudges Stone with her elbow. “Your doctor now, is it?”
“It’s not like that,” Stone protests weakly. She just laughs at him, eyes sparkling, and Ivo feels like his world has suddenly tilted. Trying to shake just how much he shockingly seemed to like Stone calling him his, he rather loudly crosses the threshold, making his presence undeniably known.
“Agent,” he snaps, ignoring that the tips of his ears feel like they’re on fire, “Let’s go.”
Stone blinks at him, then glances back to his friend. “Sorry. Duty calls.”
“Have fun with your doctor,” she replies, still smiling as she squirrels herself away across the room, ducking towards the sink to rinse the coffee residue out of her mug. Stone shrinks in on himself a little, rather skilfully avoiding Ivo’s gaze.
“Last meeting of the day, Stone; chin up.”
To his credit, Stone does exactly as he’s told.
The hotel room is remarkably small. It’s their third night sharing it, now, with two more to go before their return flights, each day filled to the brim with meetings and events. Ivo hates these places; not quite as sterile as his lab, but clean enough to lack any charm or individualism. There’s the same kind of plush double bed as all those he’s ever stayed in, with a creaky pullout pressed against the wall for Stone, their collective bags neatly set underneath the pitiful desk tucked in the corner.
Stone steps inside first, gaze darting over the space to assess for any potential danger. It’s been a long time since Ivo’s life has been threatened, but it’s routine all the same; a moment later, Stone’s shoulders slump, the tension draining from him in the same instant that he lets out a long, drawn out groan.
“Thank god that’s over,” he mutters. Ivo’s mouth curves upwards at the corners.
“Tired, Stone?”
“From that?” Stone turns to face Ivo, gesturing vaguely towards the almost-closed door. “God, yes. I nearly fell asleep from boredom.”
Despite himself, Ivo laughs. “And your conversation during the break?”
Stone freezes. “Ah, that. She’s… She’s just an old friend. From training.”
Ivo doesn’t fail to notice the way it sounds a little like Stone is trying to reassure him about something. He pays it little mind, simply leaning in closer to say, “Your doctor, hmm?”
Mild panic flares in Stone’s expression. He swallows, makes to speak, but Ivo continues before he can.
“My dearest agent, care to explain?”
It has the exact intended effect. Stone’s pupils dilate slightly, lips parting, eyes wide. With a shaky exhale, he says, “I don’t know if I can.”
Ivo reaches out, fingertips brushing Stone’s jawline, not missing the way Stone leans into it slightly. “Come on now. I’m sure you’ve got it in you.” He pauses, some amount of amusement dancing across his features before his voice dips low and he adds, “Aban.”
Stone swallows visibly. “Are you sure you want to know, sir?”
“Aban,” he repeats, with a little more force behind it, “Spill.”
“When I…” He pauses, taking a breath. “When I first started working for you, doctor was just your title. But over the years, it’s… Become closer to a nickname, I guess. A term of endearment. And so…”
“Ah.” Ivo’s face feels hot. “I can piece together the rest, agent.”
“Can you?” Stone challenges, surging forwards suddenly, crowding into Ivo’s space. “With all due respect, doctor, you’re not well versed in emotions.”
“I know enough,” he says stubbornly.
“So then you know I’m in love with you.”
Ivo, for once in his life, finds himself at a loss for words. He's thought of the possibility briefly, here or there, but never truly entertained the idea. Shifting his hand to properly cup Stone’s cheek, he says, “I’d considered it.”
Stone grins at him, a bright thing that crinkles his eyes at the corners. “No, you hadn’t.”
“Stop that,” Ivo snaps. “I’m your superior; act like it.”
With a soft laugh, Stone reaches up, curling his hand gently around the side of Ivo’s neck, thumb brushing over the sparse spattering of freckles that lie there. “Anything for my doctor.”
“Anything, hmm?” Ivo pauses, shutting his eyes and drawing in a slow breath. He wants, but doesn’t know how; desire with no real place to go. For a long time, he wasn’t even sure he liked the very idea, but now, breathless, he says, “Then kiss me.”
Stone seems to hesitate for a moment. Ivo almost thinks to retract his demand, but he hears the rustle of fabric and feels warm lips press to his own, soft and gentle. He’s so slow with it, like he’s worried he’ll scare Ivo off if he isn’t, his free hand coming up to carefully cradle Ivo’s face. Ivo’s heart feels a little like it’s going to melt right out of his chest.
“I’m not delicate, agent,” he says after a moment, barely pulling away; they’re still breathing the same air.
“I know,” Stone says, smiling, “But I wanted to take things at your pace.”
“If you want that, then kiss me like you mean it.”
And Stone laughs, light and pretty, and does just that.