Scandalousby Wow_GayChapters1. Damn It Denise2. Mr. Noir3. Mistakes were Made4. "Accidentally?"1. Damn It Denise"Yeah, I'm on my way now, Twi." "Remember what I taught you Spike: be punctual, be professional, be polite." Spike smiled. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't worry, I'm not going to blow this job, I promise." He could practically hear the teasing smile in his sister's voice. "Rarity says hello and good luck, by the way…" "U-Uh...t-tell her I said thanks..." He replied, embarrassment filling him. The building loomed ahead of him. Crystal Industries. One of the largest tech companies in the nation. "I'm pulling up now. Talk to you later Twi." "Love you!" "Love you too." He reached forward to close the call. The phone faded away, and an upbeat jpop song took it's place. He pulled up to the kiosk outside of the building, and fished around in his work bag for his keycard. Finding it, he rolled down his window and held it up to the scanner. A blueish light bathed the card and the man's hand, before a robotic woman's voice spoke up. "Welcome to Crystal Industries, SPIKE SPARKLE." The bar covering the entrance lifted up, and Spike rolled his window back up, pulling into the parking lot. Thankfully, his job came with a parking space, instead of being forced to use the garage; he managed to find his parking space, B10. Spike parked and turned the key as he did so, the engine cutting off with a gentle rumble, then sighed and leaned back in his seat. He never thought he'd actually make it this far. When Twilight had sent him the link to this job opportunity, he'd nearly burst out laughing? Him? Being hired by one of the most prominent and respected tech companies ever? As a personal assistant to it's CEO? There was no way in hell. And yet, a month, three interviews, and a whole bucketload of anxiety later, here he was. About to head inside the headquarters of Crystal Industries. "Okay...here we go. You got this. You're gonna do great. You won't fuck this up, Spike..." He breathed. With that reassurance out of the way, he grabbed his work bag, making sure to slip his key fob and card into the front pocket, before open the door and stepping out... Nearly shedding a tear as he saw how close the edge of his door was to the extremely expensive looking car beside his own. "Holy shit fuck." After managing to surgically remove his person from his car without dooming himself to what was sure to end up in a lawsuit, he began briskly walking towards the entrance of the sleek, almost futuristic looking building, the polished glass of the windows hurting his eyes due to how much sunlight reflected off of them. The automatic doors slid open, hitting Spike with a veritable blast of cool air, which was quite welcome, given that it was the tailend of August. He walked throught the doors and was promtly disoriented by how clean everything was. The marble floors shone, the rugs in the lobby were pristine, even the couches and glass coffee tables looked as though they had just been purchased the day beforehand. A young woman with curly brown hair sat behind the desk in the lobby. The placard on the desk said 'Denise Whitman'. Behind her on the wall was large, ornate silver lettering. It read: C R Y S T A L I N D U S T R I E S Paving a way towards the future. "U-Uh...hello?" Spike piped up nervously, tugging at his collar. The woman looked at him with curiosity. "Are you a client or a new employee?" "Uh...employee." The corners of her glossed lips curled up in an amused smirk. "You looked confused and lost, which is why I asked. Mind handing me your card?" "O-Oh! Y-Yeah, h-here..." He fumbled with his bag befire sheepishly producing his keycard, which she promptly plucked from his hand with a pair of manicured fingers. She moved to type on her keyboard, then scanned his card. Denise stared intently at her monitor, before her dull eyes widened. "You're Mr. Noir's new PA?" "Hah...yeah." She gave him a critical once over, making him feel a bit self-conscious, before she gestured down the hall to her left, handing back his card with her other hand. "Elevator's that way. His office-- and yours-- are on the the 10th floor. His office is the final one on that floor. You'll know it when you see it." He nodded gratefully, taking his card from her and putting it back in its bag. "Th-Thanks." With that, he walked towards where he'd been directed. "Oh, and, Mr. Sparkle?" He paused and turned to face her. "Hm?" "Good luck." With that omnious phrase, she returned to her work, typing away at her keyboard. Spike felt himself shudder, and continued walking forward. Spike's leg involuntarily bounced as he leaned up against the back wall of the elevator. 'Way to unsettle the fuck out of me before I start my first day, Denise.' He didn't know much about Sombra Noir. The handsome, affluent CEO of CI, and the brother-in-law of it's founder, Cadenza Amore. He was shrouded in mystery, aside from the occasional article in tech magazines, detailing a few of his accomplishments. Other than that, he was clueless about his employer. Judging by what Denise had told him however, he was starting to feel anxious. 'For the love of fuck, please don't turn out to be an asshole.' 'DING!' Spike looked up to see the elevator doors smoothly open, leading to a pristine hallway. "God, why the hell is everything here so freakishly clean..." He muttered. He steeled his courage and promotly walked down the hall, looking for his office space. Finally, he found it. An space with his name on the door. He opened it and walked inside. It was rather simple. A few file cabinets, a desk, a phone, a computer, and a desk lamp. "Huh. Bigger than I thought it'd be." Spike mused. He set his workbag next to the desk and sat down in his office chair. For a while he just sat there, taking in the feeling of being in his new office space. 'Brrring Brrring Brrring!' Startled, Spike jumped before his gaze turned to the phone that was now ringing. He hurriedly picked it up. "Hello? To whom am I speaking?" 'Ah, you're here, and on time exactly, no less. Punctuality is always appreciated, Mr. Sparkle.' A smooth, baritone voice spoke over the line, sending a soft tremor down Spike's spine. "Is...is this Mr. Noir?" A snort, then a chuckle. 'Who else would be calling you on your first day besides me, Mr. Sparkle. I need you to report to my office. It's at the end of the hall.' "O-Oh, y-yes sir. I'll be there right-" 'Click!' Spike frowned as the line went dead. "I guess I should go see him..."He trailed off, uneasy. Damn it Denise. Author's Note Ah yes, I am once again back on my shit. Boy do I love me some Somspike 2. Mr. NoirSpike let out a harsh breath as he stood before the door of his employer's office. 'Alright. I'm gonna go in here, I'm going to follow the 3 Ps, just like Twi always says, and I'm going to fucking slay this first impression. Mr. Noir is definitely going to be impressed with me!' After that little mental motivational rant, Spike confidently grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and pushed his way inside. He was instantly greeted by the rich, fullbodied smell of coffee, and another sweet scent he couldn't identify. Some sort of pastry, maybe? "Uhm...Mr. Noir? It's me." A snort. "Obviously. Come, sit." Spike stepped from behind the door and fully into the room. As they were several stories up, the windows of Mr. Noir's office overlooked the city, and were floor to ceiling. At the center of the room was a rather fancy, expensive looking rug and a sturdy, polished mahogany desk, complete with a matching chair in front of it. Behind this desk sat Sombra Noir, CEO of Crystal Industries. Spike sucked in a small breath, slightly blown away. The first think he noticed was his employer's eyes. They were an exquisite shade of reddish brown, that the assistant had never seen before. His own green gaze inconspicuously examined Sombra's other features. Wild black locks, tied back out of his clean shaven face, a firm jawline, perfectly plump lips, and a well scuplted nose. He wore simple businesswear: A dark grey business suit, with a black dress shirt and a light gray tie. All in all, his boss was a goddamn knockout. Was that what Denise had been warning him of? That his employer was far, far more attractive than the CEO of a tech company had any real right to be? The man's expression was...impassive. Spike would even venture to call it bored. "Well? Are you going to sit down Mr. Sparkle?" Spike shook his head. "A-Ah...my apologies, I must have zoned out for a moment, sir..." Sombra rolled his eyes. "Clearly." His hand extended and a (well manicured, might Spike add) finger pointed to the mahogany chair before his desk. He then raised a thick eyebrow. Spike nodded sheepishly, before hurriedly walking over to sit down. As he took his seat, his eyes wandered to the various things on the desk. A PC, a lamp, a pyramid shaped paperweight, a sleek black mug steaming up from what was clearly coffee, and something inside a brown paper bag. "...Your...hair..." Sombra mused. Spike once again refocused himself, cursing his curiousity. "Ah...I'm sorry?" "Your hair, Mr. Sparkle. The color." He gestured to the assistant's head. "I've never met someone working in a professional environment who decided to come to work wearing such a...distracting color. Not to mention the style..." Spike instantly felt on edge. His interviewer never said anything about his hair. Was dyeing and his hairstyle against company policy, and he was only just now finding out from his employer!? "U-Uh, w-well sir, I um. I've worn my hair this way since I was in high school and..." The assistant let out a nervous chuckle. "My apologies, I wasn't aware it was against company policy. I'll make sure fix that as soon as-" Sombra held up a hand, stopping the younger man from rambling further, his expression amused. "Relax, Mr. Sparkle. There's nothing in the company policies or the guidebook that state anything against hair color. Only excessive jewelry, revealing clothing, large visible tattoos, and outdoors wear. And while your mohawk pushes the limits a tad, it isn't too egregious." Spike breathed a sign of relief. "T-Thank you sir." Sombra sat forward now, hands folded together and set on the desk. "Now, Mr. Sparkle. I trust you know what is expected of you in this position?" Spike's eyes widened and he nodded. "O-Oh, yes sir! I mean, I at least know the basics." Sombra smirked. "Basics, hm? In that case, we'll have to add some things you may not be aware of." Spike blinked. "Oh...ah, alright?" "Now, I in fact do not usually arrive at this time. I'm usually here an hour later, but I have arrived early in order to debrief you personally. This is a luxury you will only be afforded once, so listen closely and carefully." The man appeared to let that sit for a moment, before continuing. "During this time, there several things you need to prepare for me. Firstly, you'll need to have checked my mailbox, which is on floor 6. I have already had a spare box key made for you and it is inside your desk. You are under no circumstances to take this key anywhere other than down to that floor, and inside your desk. If you somehow manage to lose it, the cost to replace it will be coming out of your pay." The brunette reached forward to tap on a small tray on his desk. "You will place any company mail I have received within that box, inside this tray. Secondly, you should place any files given to you by other staff onto my desk, right here." He then tapped an empty spot on the desk. "Thirdly, you will be expected to come to my office when called, regardless of what you may be doing at the time. Unless it is quite literally some form of medical emergency, you are to drop it and report to me." Spik's brow furrowed slightly, but he chose to stay silent. "And finally..." He gestured to his steaming mug. "I expect a hot cup of coffee to be brewed and sitting beside the machine-" He pointed to the side, where a coffee maker and a water cooler sat, complete with spare mugs, small paper cups, filters, a canister of sugar, some creamer, and a container of coffee beans. "-when I come in." Sombra raised his brow. "You do know how to make coffee...correct?" Spike nodded slowly. "Y-Yes, I used to make some all the time for my sister-" "Excellent. Then I assume you'll have no problems." The man cut him off and leaned back in his chair. "Are there any questions, comments, or concerns you have, Mr. Sparkle?" Spike took a moment to let the veritable info dump he had just been given sink in, before nodding once more. "N-No sir, I believe I'm all set." Mr. Noir smiled thinly. "Wonderful." He spun his chair around to face the giant floor to ceiling window that made up the back wall of his office, then waved at Spike from behind, a clear gesture that he could leave. "That will be all Mr. Sparkle. You're dismissed. And please: don't disappoint me." Spike shuddered at the way the man's already low voice dropped in tone, before slowly nodding his head once more, even though he knew his employer couldn't see him. "I...I won't sir. I promise you, I won't." "...Good." With that, Spike stood to his feet and walked out, quietly closing the door behind himself. Sombra waited until the door shut, before chuckling humorlessly. "Poor thing won't last a week..." Spike sighed as he made his way inside his crappy apartment. "Well...that day was...boring." It had been his first day on the job, and he barely did anything. He answered a few calls and forwarded them to Mr. Noir's office, went over the company guidlines a few times, and at the end of the day, he placed two or three papers on Sombra's desk and checked out of the building. "I know it'll probably get more difficult, but that was uneventful as all hell..." He muttered. He threw his workbag onto his sofa and began loosening his tie. As he made his way to his bedroom, he thought about his employer. He had hoped to gain a bit more insight into the mysterious CEO, but the meeting with the man had hardly answered any questions, other than the one he'd once asked about the man being more attractive in person than he was in magazines and photos. The answer? Yes. Yes he was. If not a bit more...ominous. 'And please: don't disappoint me.' Spike shivered again. He tossed his tie onto his bed, followed by his dress shirt, belt, and slacks. His socks were tossed into his laundry hamper and his shoes were set to the side. Spike then rooted around in his armoire until he found a large T-shirt, and slipped it on. Flopping on his bed, he slipped his phone out of the back pocket of his slacks and unlocked it. (5) New Messages from: Ember Spike rolled his eyes. as he clicked the Messaging app icon. 5:12 p.m. Heyy, dweeb I know ur off by now 5:14 p.m. how'd ur first day as a full fledged adult go? is ur boss cool or is he an asshat like the rumors say Spike started to type. 5:42 p.m. Yoo it went alright kinda boring he's not really an asshole he's just kind of. weird Ember is typing... 5:43 p.m. there u fuckin are. weird...how weird like ur last bf? or weird like 'call the police' Spike flushed at the mention of his ex. He pouted and typed once more. 5:44 p.m. hsjsjsks i don't neither, he's like neither he's just kinda mysterious Ember is typing... 5:46 p.m. mysterious... how did he do fuckin magic tricks? cuz thatd be real mysterious Spike let out a snort and a chuckle. 5:47 p.m. Nah he's just omninously mysterious idk how to explain it ok, damn Ember is typing... 5:48 p.m. aight aight ill leave u alone abt it wyd now 5:48 p.m. talking to u obviously 5.49 p.m. wtf else could i be doing lmao XD bouta make something to eat, im hungry af Ember is typing... 5:50 p.m. lmao wanted to ask if you wanted to come w me and thorax to the club Spike frowned. Not this again... 5:52 p.m. Ember, you know i dont drink Ember is typing... 5:53 p.m. U don't need to drink Spike just come out and live a little its been like 4 months, u gotta get over him some time Spike glared at the screen. This had been happening over and over lately. Ever since he had broken up with his boyfriend, Ember had been trying to get him out of the funk he'd been in. Which unfortunately led to a bunch of social anxiety for the man. Spike knew she was just trying to help, but the last thing he wanted to do after a break up with the man he loved and had been dating for five years, was to end up with some shallow hookup at a bar. 5:54 p.m. ill ttyl embs He then clicked his power button to lock his phone, and sat up, preparing to go fix himself some instant ramen. He heard his phone buzz, and briefly considered picking it up, but instead sighed and ignored it as he stood to his feet and left his bedroom, headed towards the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. Author's Note Not much hapoened this chapter hm? Just a bit of worldbuilding ig lmao Yeah, Spikey Wikey is getting over a break up. With whom you may ask? Well, for those of you who follow me and have read my peevious stories, ya'll aready know See you guys next chapter! 3. Mistakes were MadeFour months later... "Mm..." Sombra took a sip of the coffee that had been made for him by his personal assistant that morning. He had to admit, Mr. Sparkle was actually lasting rather long. Longer than most of his PAs. So far he had been performing exactly as expected and with very, very few errors. He was energetic, eager to please, obedient, and punctual. 'Not to mention how easy on the eyes he is...' Sombra stopped sipping at that particular intrusive thought. The CEO of Crystal Industries happened to have a bit of a preference. He was bisexual, with a slightly better taste for men over women. Not that he hadn't dated his fair share of women. But when it came to those of the same sex...Sombra had a type. Small, demure, cute, eager, and slightly feminine. And Spike had all of those qualities in spades. "No, there's no way I'm even entertaining this..." He muttered, setting down his black mug. As much as he would like to imagine doing all sorts of things to his little PA, there was the matter of professionalism. All it would take is a single leak, or one misstep, and scandal articles would be plastered across tabloids all over the country. And then there was the fact that he didn't even know if his PA held an interest in men. Physical appearance and personality did not a sexuality make, after all. He could just imagine the ensuing sexual harrassment lawsuit were he to even imply an interest in the petite younger man. "It isn't worth the trouble Sombra..." He concluded almost with finality, before taking another sip of his coffee and starting on some of his paperwork. 'Bring! Bring! Bring!' Sombra picked up the phone. "Hello?" "Mr. Noir? There's a call I've momentarily put on hold for you. From...Mrs. Amore." Spike's voice came through the phone. Sombra suppressed a powerful urge to groan audibly into the receiver, and instead rolled his eyes. "Transfer her to me, thank you." "Right away sir." As the dial tone began, Sombra sighed. Why did Cadence always have to call at the most inopportune times? Spike reclined on his bed, sighing. Four whole months, and he hadn't been fired yet. He'd call it a miracle, but that would imply he hadn't been trying his damndest at work. Mr. Noir was...an interesting employer. He was suave, collected, perfectionist. Or at least 'near' perfectionist. The man was just the tiniest bit...picky. Spike had yet to fuck up irredeemably though, so for the most part, he and his boss got along well. The older man had even once paid him a compliment on the outfit he wore to work one day. He'd also been slowly adjusting to the fact that Sombra was drop dead gorgeous. It wasn't an easy feat, but Spike now was able to completely and totally ignore the intrusive, sexual thoughts he got about his boss. Along with that adjustment came yet another: getting over his longtime boyfriend. He'd made a bit of headway, in that regard. Not enough that he could stand going to the places they used to go on dates or hangout at without tearing up, but enough to at least finally retire the emo songlist he'd been listening to on repeat. Ember had finally managed to break through to him on moving on...albeit in a strange way. You see, Spike and his ex had been...sexually active. And the two of them weren't exactly vanilla either. Spike had a bit of a...the more tasteful term would be 'preference', but it was definitely a kink, for crossdressing in the bedroom. Cute little skirts, frilly maid outfits, panties, stockings, garterbelts... It made him feel good, and as his ex had often purred amorously at him while caressing his lace covered ass, it made the other man feel good as well. However, he hadn't bothered with it in months now, and it was taking a bit of a toll on his self-confidence. Crossdressing, as peculiar as it may sound, brought him out of his shell. Made him feel confident in himself. Sexy. Ember knew this. They'd been friends since highschool, and she hadn't hesitated to wring every precious detail out of him regarding his relationship. So one day, she sent him a message. 6:39 p.m. Yo Spike you still got all that crossdressing shit? 6:41 p.m. Yeah why Ember is typing... 6:42 p.m. send me a pic of you wearing that 6:44 p.m. wtf why???? Ember is typing... 6:45 p.m. Cuz i think it'd like help you? confidence building or whatever the fuck 6:47 p.m. okay so no offense but how in thee fuck is sending you nudes supposed to build my confidence???? Ember is typing... 6:50 p.m. ok hear me out so like im gay, right? I like pussy girls ladies 6:51 p.m. I know, ember im...pretty aware Ember is typing... 6:52 p.m. Yeah so getting nudes of you wouldn't do shit for me, right? 6:53 p.m. I mean i guess??? Ember is typing... 6:55 p.m. cmon spikey, put the pieces together!! you send me pics of you all dressed up and i can platonically tell ya that you look nice eh? eh? Long story short, that was why he was now laying on his bed, wearing nothing but lacy purple panties, black stockings, and a frilly magenta garterbelt. His glasses sat on the night stand. He used them for reading, but he didn't really require them to navigate his phone. He'd take quite a few...provacative pictures already, as he'd done once every week or so since Ember had thought of the proposition. Mirror shot, picture of him with his legs splayed, privates almost visible through that lacy material, a particularly nice shot of his rather thick ass being squeezed by the aforementioned panties... All captured beautifully by his phone camera, attached to a message that simply read: 'how do these look?' He heard a loud knock at the door, which was likely the pizza guy. Not paying too much attention, having done this several times already, he quickly sent the message and promptly tossed his phone onto the bed, gettting up to answer the door. Spike chewed on his pizza as he opened his conversation with Ember... "Hmm?" The message, coupled with the pictures, was not there in his messaging history. Frowning, he set down his slice and wiped his fingers with a napkin, then began typing. 7:32 p.m. Yo, embs I sent you those pics a couple minutes ago but they aren't showing up in the history did you get em? I know I sent them to you... so is it a glitch? Spike waited, slightly anxious. Ember is typing... 7:34 p.m. uhhh no??? no lewds on this end my guy Spike's frown deepened further, then all of a sudden, a cold, hard lump of pure dread dropped in his stomach. "No...no fucking way..." He quickly backed out of his chat with Ember, and looked at all the contacts he had lined up. He had texted Mr. Noir before, having been given his cell number around a month ago. All work related, of course. His contact had been listed as 'Boss'. Ember, on the other hand, wasn't listed as merely 'Ember'. No. She was listed as 'Bad Bitch Ember', mostly for kicks on his end. Utter fear pooling in his stomach, he hesitantly clicked into his chat with Sombra.. And was greeted with a pristine, hi-res picture of his ass. Spike let out a loud, prolonged noise of distress, nearly chucking his fucking phone across the room in almost a fit of panic and terror. He had sent his boss his nudes. He had sent his fucking boss his goddamned nudes. Around an hour later, roughly halfway across the city from where Spike's apartment was, one Sombra Noir prepared to go over the texts he'd received for that day, a glass of wine accompanying the monotonous task. Author's Note Oopsey woopsey. Spike made a fucky wucky. A wittle fucko boingo~ 4. "Accidentally?""Don't you get it!? I'm doomed, Ember! My life is fucking over!" "C'mon, it can't possibly be that bad. Just tell your boss it was a mistaken text?" Spike, who was currently resting his forehead against his steering wheel, let out a whine of sheer distress. "Even if it's mistaken, I still sent my boss my fucking nudes, Em! I'm fucking good as fired! I may as well just ask the receptionist for my pink slip when I walk in!" The girl on the other end sighed. "Dunno what to tell you Spikey...least you can do is be professional? As long as he knows it was a sincere mistake, even if he fires you, you might get a decent recommendation later? Oh yeah, sure. Spike could practically fucking see it. 'Oh, Mr. Sparkle? He's a decent worker. Makes a good macchiato. Has a star birthmark on his inner thigh and has okay taste in lingerie.' "I'll...I'll come by later, Ember. Make sure you've got some ice cream." You know it baby. Take care, alright Spikey? The boy clicked off the car phone, and leaned back in his seat. Okay, so, best case scenario: Mr. Noir didn't even see the message. He might have an auto delete set up on non-important texts, and he was pretty sure that as a personal assistant, he didn't qualify. They communicated solely over phone call or through email. Sombra hadn't even noticed his scandalous photos, and he was worrying about nothing. Worst case scenario: He now had a case with HR for sexual harrassment in the works against him, and would never work again anywhere in this city...hell, anywhere in the country. His family would disown him for being a complete pervert, and he would end up penniless and destitute. 'Strangely enough, the worst case scenario was way more implausible...' Oh gods, it was almost time to clock in. Gritting his teeth, Spike scooped up his briefcase, turned his car off, and stepped out. He was sincerely hoping for the best case scenario. "Yes, Mr. Noir wants you to report to his office ASAP. He said it's a matter of the utmost urgency." Well fuck. Spike forced a nervous smile onto his face. "Oh, r-r-really? That's...that's great! I-I've been meaning to speak with him too, s-so that works out!" Gods he hoped he sounded more confident than he felt, because how he felt was on the verge of a goddamned panic attack. Denise raised an eyebrow, before returning to her computer work. "I'd hurry up if I were you. Whatever you're in trouble for, the reprimanding you're going to get will be even worse if you're late." 'Gee, thanks Denise.' "R-Right! Right, of course, s-silly me—" The deflated boy made his way to the elevator, calling one and stepping on as if his loafers were crafted from solid lead. How was he going to even handle this? How was he going to explain this? He was up shit creek without a paddle...or even a fucking boat. The climb up to his boss' floor was torture, and Spike half wished that the thing would catastrophically fail and crash down the shaft, turning him into finely minced hamburger meat upon impact. But nonetheless, his desperate wish was not made reality. The telltale 'ding!' of the elevator sounded out, signifying his arrival at his destination. Spike's time was up. He stepped out of the elevator with a tremble in his step, feeling vaguely lightheaded as he left it behind. This was it. He had approached his doom. Sombra took an agonizingly long time to tell the boy to enter. Spike could've sworn his fucking heart would stop beating as the seconds wore on, until at last. "You may enter, Mr. Sparkle." Taking a moment to bid a sorrowful farewell to his career, Spike took in a soft breath, grabbed ahold of the brass doorknob, and turned it. The creak that sounded out after his entrance made Spike cringe like nothing else. "Close the door behind you." Spike nearly jumped at the sound of Sombra's voice. Fuck it sounded so much scarier all of a sudden, probably because Mr. Noir was going to eat him alive— "Of...O-Of course, Nr. Noir." He managed to stammer, closing said door with shaky hands and fidgety fingers. "...I'd appreciate being looked at if we're going to speak, Mr. Sparkle." Spike's soul felt as if it would mist out through his nose and exit his body, before the boy slowly turned around to face his likely furious boss. "Y-Yes...you wanted to speak with me, sir?" "I did. Please. Have a seat." Oh, he was so fired. So fired he could practically taste the fucking ink on his pink slip. Spike stepped towards the chair lined up in front of Sombra's desk, and gingerly sat down, as if the chair was some sort of torture implement. Sombra seemed to be all business, as he opened up a medium sized armoire near his desk. "Did you have a safe trip here, Mr. Sparkle?" Fuck's sake, was the man seriously trying to make small talk when he was moment's away from permanently fucking Spike's chances of being anybody in this city!? "U-Uh, fine...? D-Decent weather, n-nice traffic..." Fuck, wait, that was backwards— Sombra hummed noncommittally, and Spike heard the sound of a cork popping off, and the distinct glug of bottled liquor. "Very nice...now...onto business. You do know why I called you into my office, correct...?" This was it. The end. The grand fucking finale of his career. He shrunk down in his chair as if he could meld with the pleather seat cusion. B-Because...B-Because I accidentally sent you...c-compromising photos of myself?" He murmured, face hot with shame and humiliation. The sound of pouring liquid froze, and so did Sombra...then after a few seconds, he managed to utter one simple word: "Accidentally...?" Spike's head snapped up so hard he nearly got whiplash. "S-Sir...I...yes. Those were accidental. I-I didn't mean to, really. Your contact was just very close to my friend's and I-I—" Wait. The confusion in Sombra's voice, liquor being poured...the fact that he wasn't even being reprimanded... The assistant began processing. Slowly, of course. As to not fry his fucking brain. "Mr...Mr. Noir...? Were...were you...assuming I sent them on purpose...?" The other man was stock still, holding the bottle of red wine in a death grip. Spike decided to be brave, and stood to his feet, then carefully walked over to his boss. Just enough to see what he was doing, and— Holy shit. No fucking way. "Sir? Were you...pouring us both a glass of wine? Were you about t-to...about to proposition me?" Finally, Sombra reacted, bringing himself from his daze to set the bottle down and then look over his shoulder at the shorter man. "To be fair, I assumed you were propositioning me." Spike's brow furrowed. "So...so you were what...? Reciprocating? Isn't that against company policy?" Sombra's expression soured and he made his way over to his desk with a soft chuckle. "I am the CEO of this company, Mr. Sparkle. 'Company policy' is whatever I wish for it to be, as long as it is within the bonds of federal legality. And there is nothing illegal about indulging a pretty boy like yourself." Spike could feel his neurons frying as they spoke. Pretty boy!? Sombra was still trying to flirt!? He was actually interested!? "I-I...don't think that's a good idea, sir. Fraternization can lead to troubles in the office—" "I'm not going to be giving you preferential treatment, if that is what you're referring to. Our relationship during business hours would remain the same. But off of those hours..." He leaned forward, blood red gaze smoldering. "I would be glad to indulge in you, Spike." Oh fuck, why did the way his first name was said by Sombra sound so hot!? "S-Sir, I..." Spike swallowed thickly, making his way back to his chair before he flat out collapsed or fainted. "S-So, what sort of relationship are you even suggesting...? Is this a sugar baby thing? Friends with benefits? D-Do you actually want to date me?" "Mm...a bit of column A and column C, dear boy. I'd be willing to give you extra funds on the side if you need them. And friends with benefits doesn't have nearly enough exclusivity for me. I want you to be mine alone." A shudder passed down Spike's back and his face felt torrid. His alone? This was starting to sound like some trashy, bargain bin smut novel. "Yours...alone. I...wow, okay..." The boy rubbed his temples and looked blown away, leaning back in his seat. "You...aren't gonna fire me if I say no, right?" Sombra almost looked insulted, hand raising to his chest and eyes narrowing. "What? Of course not. Do I seem like the type of man to blackmail someone into my bedroom? Or even a man that would need to? Hardly. If you say no, I'll leave the matter here, and you may return to your work as per usual." Spike shuffled softly. "I...I see..." He then looked at his shoes, flustered. His attractive, affluent boss not only saw his nudes, but now the older man wanted him to be his little boyfriend. It was like a damn fantasy, and he felt as if he was seconds from waking up. "...is there a catch that I'm not being told Mr. Noir?" Sombra cocked his head, then hummed. "I would have disclosed it with you regardless, but yes. I should make you aware that my sexual proclivities are...less than vanilla. If kink bothers you, we cannot make this work." Oh damn. Taking a moment to process, Spike responded. "I-I...kink...? I-I know the term, of course ...but you should be more specific. When you say kink, do you mean...like, BDSM...or something fucking weird." "The former...I can lay out my hard and soft limits for you later, if you accept my proposal." Spike shivered. He was actually talking about entering a BDSM relationship with his boss. And...and he was...conflicted. "I...need time to think about this, sir. It's...quite a bit to unpack." Sombra frowned, before nodding. "O-Of course. This isn't a commitment to jump into willy nilly. Could I at least have your answer by this time next week...?" A whole week to decide. It somehow felt like a generous deadline and yet...didn't. "...okay. Sure, sure, I-I can work with that. I just need...processing time." "I understand. Now..." He moved back over to his armoire (which apparently doubled as a wine cabinet), and picked up one of the glasses of wine he had poured prior. "I'm sure you could use some to make you less high strung. Here." He walked around his desk and handed Spike the glass, the boy's eyes wide. "I...isn't drinking on the job against—" The deadpan stare he received made him shut up and swirl his glass, before lightly sipping, a million thoughts racing through his mind. Thankfully, he at least had a week to figure things out. Author's Note I'm not even gonna pretend I know why this took forever, because I just dont, lmao. Hope you enjoyed, and hopefully next chapter comes much swifter.
1. Damn It Denise"Yeah, I'm on my way now, Twi." "Remember what I taught you Spike: be punctual, be professional, be polite." Spike smiled. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't worry, I'm not going to blow this job, I promise." He could practically hear the teasing smile in his sister's voice. "Rarity says hello and good luck, by the way…" "U-Uh...t-tell her I said thanks..." He replied, embarrassment filling him. The building loomed ahead of him. Crystal Industries. One of the largest tech companies in the nation. "I'm pulling up now. Talk to you later Twi." "Love you!" "Love you too." He reached forward to close the call. The phone faded away, and an upbeat jpop song took it's place. He pulled up to the kiosk outside of the building, and fished around in his work bag for his keycard. Finding it, he rolled down his window and held it up to the scanner. A blueish light bathed the card and the man's hand, before a robotic woman's voice spoke up. "Welcome to Crystal Industries, SPIKE SPARKLE." The bar covering the entrance lifted up, and Spike rolled his window back up, pulling into the parking lot. Thankfully, his job came with a parking space, instead of being forced to use the garage; he managed to find his parking space, B10. Spike parked and turned the key as he did so, the engine cutting off with a gentle rumble, then sighed and leaned back in his seat. He never thought he'd actually make it this far. When Twilight had sent him the link to this job opportunity, he'd nearly burst out laughing? Him? Being hired by one of the most prominent and respected tech companies ever? As a personal assistant to it's CEO? There was no way in hell. And yet, a month, three interviews, and a whole bucketload of anxiety later, here he was. About to head inside the headquarters of Crystal Industries. "Okay...here we go. You got this. You're gonna do great. You won't fuck this up, Spike..." He breathed. With that reassurance out of the way, he grabbed his work bag, making sure to slip his key fob and card into the front pocket, before open the door and stepping out... Nearly shedding a tear as he saw how close the edge of his door was to the extremely expensive looking car beside his own. "Holy shit fuck." After managing to surgically remove his person from his car without dooming himself to what was sure to end up in a lawsuit, he began briskly walking towards the entrance of the sleek, almost futuristic looking building, the polished glass of the windows hurting his eyes due to how much sunlight reflected off of them. The automatic doors slid open, hitting Spike with a veritable blast of cool air, which was quite welcome, given that it was the tailend of August. He walked throught the doors and was promtly disoriented by how clean everything was. The marble floors shone, the rugs in the lobby were pristine, even the couches and glass coffee tables looked as though they had just been purchased the day beforehand. A young woman with curly brown hair sat behind the desk in the lobby. The placard on the desk said 'Denise Whitman'. Behind her on the wall was large, ornate silver lettering. It read: C R Y S T A L I N D U S T R I E S Paving a way towards the future. "U-Uh...hello?" Spike piped up nervously, tugging at his collar. The woman looked at him with curiosity. "Are you a client or a new employee?" "Uh...employee." The corners of her glossed lips curled up in an amused smirk. "You looked confused and lost, which is why I asked. Mind handing me your card?" "O-Oh! Y-Yeah, h-here..." He fumbled with his bag befire sheepishly producing his keycard, which she promptly plucked from his hand with a pair of manicured fingers. She moved to type on her keyboard, then scanned his card. Denise stared intently at her monitor, before her dull eyes widened. "You're Mr. Noir's new PA?" "Hah...yeah." She gave him a critical once over, making him feel a bit self-conscious, before she gestured down the hall to her left, handing back his card with her other hand. "Elevator's that way. His office-- and yours-- are on the the 10th floor. His office is the final one on that floor. You'll know it when you see it." He nodded gratefully, taking his card from her and putting it back in its bag. "Th-Thanks." With that, he walked towards where he'd been directed. "Oh, and, Mr. Sparkle?" He paused and turned to face her. "Hm?" "Good luck." With that omnious phrase, she returned to her work, typing away at her keyboard. Spike felt himself shudder, and continued walking forward. Spike's leg involuntarily bounced as he leaned up against the back wall of the elevator. 'Way to unsettle the fuck out of me before I start my first day, Denise.' He didn't know much about Sombra Noir. The handsome, affluent CEO of CI, and the brother-in-law of it's founder, Cadenza Amore. He was shrouded in mystery, aside from the occasional article in tech magazines, detailing a few of his accomplishments. Other than that, he was clueless about his employer. Judging by what Denise had told him however, he was starting to feel anxious. 'For the love of fuck, please don't turn out to be an asshole.' 'DING!' Spike looked up to see the elevator doors smoothly open, leading to a pristine hallway. "God, why the hell is everything here so freakishly clean..." He muttered. He steeled his courage and promotly walked down the hall, looking for his office space. Finally, he found it. An space with his name on the door. He opened it and walked inside. It was rather simple. A few file cabinets, a desk, a phone, a computer, and a desk lamp. "Huh. Bigger than I thought it'd be." Spike mused. He set his workbag next to the desk and sat down in his office chair. For a while he just sat there, taking in the feeling of being in his new office space. 'Brrring Brrring Brrring!' Startled, Spike jumped before his gaze turned to the phone that was now ringing. He hurriedly picked it up. "Hello? To whom am I speaking?" 'Ah, you're here, and on time exactly, no less. Punctuality is always appreciated, Mr. Sparkle.' A smooth, baritone voice spoke over the line, sending a soft tremor down Spike's spine. "Is...is this Mr. Noir?" A snort, then a chuckle. 'Who else would be calling you on your first day besides me, Mr. Sparkle. I need you to report to my office. It's at the end of the hall.' "O-Oh, y-yes sir. I'll be there right-" 'Click!' Spike frowned as the line went dead. "I guess I should go see him..."He trailed off, uneasy. Damn it Denise. Author's Note Ah yes, I am once again back on my shit. Boy do I love me some Somspike
2. Mr. NoirSpike let out a harsh breath as he stood before the door of his employer's office. 'Alright. I'm gonna go in here, I'm going to follow the 3 Ps, just like Twi always says, and I'm going to fucking slay this first impression. Mr. Noir is definitely going to be impressed with me!' After that little mental motivational rant, Spike confidently grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and pushed his way inside. He was instantly greeted by the rich, fullbodied smell of coffee, and another sweet scent he couldn't identify. Some sort of pastry, maybe? "Uhm...Mr. Noir? It's me." A snort. "Obviously. Come, sit." Spike stepped from behind the door and fully into the room. As they were several stories up, the windows of Mr. Noir's office overlooked the city, and were floor to ceiling. At the center of the room was a rather fancy, expensive looking rug and a sturdy, polished mahogany desk, complete with a matching chair in front of it. Behind this desk sat Sombra Noir, CEO of Crystal Industries. Spike sucked in a small breath, slightly blown away. The first think he noticed was his employer's eyes. They were an exquisite shade of reddish brown, that the assistant had never seen before. His own green gaze inconspicuously examined Sombra's other features. Wild black locks, tied back out of his clean shaven face, a firm jawline, perfectly plump lips, and a well scuplted nose. He wore simple businesswear: A dark grey business suit, with a black dress shirt and a light gray tie. All in all, his boss was a goddamn knockout. Was that what Denise had been warning him of? That his employer was far, far more attractive than the CEO of a tech company had any real right to be? The man's expression was...impassive. Spike would even venture to call it bored. "Well? Are you going to sit down Mr. Sparkle?" Spike shook his head. "A-Ah...my apologies, I must have zoned out for a moment, sir..." Sombra rolled his eyes. "Clearly." His hand extended and a (well manicured, might Spike add) finger pointed to the mahogany chair before his desk. He then raised a thick eyebrow. Spike nodded sheepishly, before hurriedly walking over to sit down. As he took his seat, his eyes wandered to the various things on the desk. A PC, a lamp, a pyramid shaped paperweight, a sleek black mug steaming up from what was clearly coffee, and something inside a brown paper bag. "...Your...hair..." Sombra mused. Spike once again refocused himself, cursing his curiousity. "Ah...I'm sorry?" "Your hair, Mr. Sparkle. The color." He gestured to the assistant's head. "I've never met someone working in a professional environment who decided to come to work wearing such a...distracting color. Not to mention the style..." Spike instantly felt on edge. His interviewer never said anything about his hair. Was dyeing and his hairstyle against company policy, and he was only just now finding out from his employer!? "U-Uh, w-well sir, I um. I've worn my hair this way since I was in high school and..." The assistant let out a nervous chuckle. "My apologies, I wasn't aware it was against company policy. I'll make sure fix that as soon as-" Sombra held up a hand, stopping the younger man from rambling further, his expression amused. "Relax, Mr. Sparkle. There's nothing in the company policies or the guidebook that state anything against hair color. Only excessive jewelry, revealing clothing, large visible tattoos, and outdoors wear. And while your mohawk pushes the limits a tad, it isn't too egregious." Spike breathed a sign of relief. "T-Thank you sir." Sombra sat forward now, hands folded together and set on the desk. "Now, Mr. Sparkle. I trust you know what is expected of you in this position?" Spike's eyes widened and he nodded. "O-Oh, yes sir! I mean, I at least know the basics." Sombra smirked. "Basics, hm? In that case, we'll have to add some things you may not be aware of." Spike blinked. "Oh...ah, alright?" "Now, I in fact do not usually arrive at this time. I'm usually here an hour later, but I have arrived early in order to debrief you personally. This is a luxury you will only be afforded once, so listen closely and carefully." The man appeared to let that sit for a moment, before continuing. "During this time, there several things you need to prepare for me. Firstly, you'll need to have checked my mailbox, which is on floor 6. I have already had a spare box key made for you and it is inside your desk. You are under no circumstances to take this key anywhere other than down to that floor, and inside your desk. If you somehow manage to lose it, the cost to replace it will be coming out of your pay." The brunette reached forward to tap on a small tray on his desk. "You will place any company mail I have received within that box, inside this tray. Secondly, you should place any files given to you by other staff onto my desk, right here." He then tapped an empty spot on the desk. "Thirdly, you will be expected to come to my office when called, regardless of what you may be doing at the time. Unless it is quite literally some form of medical emergency, you are to drop it and report to me." Spik's brow furrowed slightly, but he chose to stay silent. "And finally..." He gestured to his steaming mug. "I expect a hot cup of coffee to be brewed and sitting beside the machine-" He pointed to the side, where a coffee maker and a water cooler sat, complete with spare mugs, small paper cups, filters, a canister of sugar, some creamer, and a container of coffee beans. "-when I come in." Sombra raised his brow. "You do know how to make coffee...correct?" Spike nodded slowly. "Y-Yes, I used to make some all the time for my sister-" "Excellent. Then I assume you'll have no problems." The man cut him off and leaned back in his chair. "Are there any questions, comments, or concerns you have, Mr. Sparkle?" Spike took a moment to let the veritable info dump he had just been given sink in, before nodding once more. "N-No sir, I believe I'm all set." Mr. Noir smiled thinly. "Wonderful." He spun his chair around to face the giant floor to ceiling window that made up the back wall of his office, then waved at Spike from behind, a clear gesture that he could leave. "That will be all Mr. Sparkle. You're dismissed. And please: don't disappoint me." Spike shuddered at the way the man's already low voice dropped in tone, before slowly nodding his head once more, even though he knew his employer couldn't see him. "I...I won't sir. I promise you, I won't." "...Good." With that, Spike stood to his feet and walked out, quietly closing the door behind himself. Sombra waited until the door shut, before chuckling humorlessly. "Poor thing won't last a week..." Spike sighed as he made his way inside his crappy apartment. "Well...that day was...boring." It had been his first day on the job, and he barely did anything. He answered a few calls and forwarded them to Mr. Noir's office, went over the company guidlines a few times, and at the end of the day, he placed two or three papers on Sombra's desk and checked out of the building. "I know it'll probably get more difficult, but that was uneventful as all hell..." He muttered. He threw his workbag onto his sofa and began loosening his tie. As he made his way to his bedroom, he thought about his employer. He had hoped to gain a bit more insight into the mysterious CEO, but the meeting with the man had hardly answered any questions, other than the one he'd once asked about the man being more attractive in person than he was in magazines and photos. The answer? Yes. Yes he was. If not a bit more...ominous. 'And please: don't disappoint me.' Spike shivered again. He tossed his tie onto his bed, followed by his dress shirt, belt, and slacks. His socks were tossed into his laundry hamper and his shoes were set to the side. Spike then rooted around in his armoire until he found a large T-shirt, and slipped it on. Flopping on his bed, he slipped his phone out of the back pocket of his slacks and unlocked it. (5) New Messages from: Ember Spike rolled his eyes. as he clicked the Messaging app icon. 5:12 p.m. Heyy, dweeb I know ur off by now 5:14 p.m. how'd ur first day as a full fledged adult go? is ur boss cool or is he an asshat like the rumors say Spike started to type. 5:42 p.m. Yoo it went alright kinda boring he's not really an asshole he's just kind of. weird Ember is typing... 5:43 p.m. there u fuckin are. weird...how weird like ur last bf? or weird like 'call the police' Spike flushed at the mention of his ex. He pouted and typed once more. 5:44 p.m. hsjsjsks i don't neither, he's like neither he's just kinda mysterious Ember is typing... 5:46 p.m. mysterious... how did he do fuckin magic tricks? cuz thatd be real mysterious Spike let out a snort and a chuckle. 5:47 p.m. Nah he's just omninously mysterious idk how to explain it ok, damn Ember is typing... 5:48 p.m. aight aight ill leave u alone abt it wyd now 5:48 p.m. talking to u obviously 5.49 p.m. wtf else could i be doing lmao XD bouta make something to eat, im hungry af Ember is typing... 5:50 p.m. lmao wanted to ask if you wanted to come w me and thorax to the club Spike frowned. Not this again... 5:52 p.m. Ember, you know i dont drink Ember is typing... 5:53 p.m. U don't need to drink Spike just come out and live a little its been like 4 months, u gotta get over him some time Spike glared at the screen. This had been happening over and over lately. Ever since he had broken up with his boyfriend, Ember had been trying to get him out of the funk he'd been in. Which unfortunately led to a bunch of social anxiety for the man. Spike knew she was just trying to help, but the last thing he wanted to do after a break up with the man he loved and had been dating for five years, was to end up with some shallow hookup at a bar. 5:54 p.m. ill ttyl embs He then clicked his power button to lock his phone, and sat up, preparing to go fix himself some instant ramen. He heard his phone buzz, and briefly considered picking it up, but instead sighed and ignored it as he stood to his feet and left his bedroom, headed towards the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. Author's Note Not much hapoened this chapter hm? Just a bit of worldbuilding ig lmao Yeah, Spikey Wikey is getting over a break up. With whom you may ask? Well, for those of you who follow me and have read my peevious stories, ya'll aready know See you guys next chapter!
3. Mistakes were MadeFour months later... "Mm..." Sombra took a sip of the coffee that had been made for him by his personal assistant that morning. He had to admit, Mr. Sparkle was actually lasting rather long. Longer than most of his PAs. So far he had been performing exactly as expected and with very, very few errors. He was energetic, eager to please, obedient, and punctual. 'Not to mention how easy on the eyes he is...' Sombra stopped sipping at that particular intrusive thought. The CEO of Crystal Industries happened to have a bit of a preference. He was bisexual, with a slightly better taste for men over women. Not that he hadn't dated his fair share of women. But when it came to those of the same sex...Sombra had a type. Small, demure, cute, eager, and slightly feminine. And Spike had all of those qualities in spades. "No, there's no way I'm even entertaining this..." He muttered, setting down his black mug. As much as he would like to imagine doing all sorts of things to his little PA, there was the matter of professionalism. All it would take is a single leak, or one misstep, and scandal articles would be plastered across tabloids all over the country. And then there was the fact that he didn't even know if his PA held an interest in men. Physical appearance and personality did not a sexuality make, after all. He could just imagine the ensuing sexual harrassment lawsuit were he to even imply an interest in the petite younger man. "It isn't worth the trouble Sombra..." He concluded almost with finality, before taking another sip of his coffee and starting on some of his paperwork. 'Bring! Bring! Bring!' Sombra picked up the phone. "Hello?" "Mr. Noir? There's a call I've momentarily put on hold for you. From...Mrs. Amore." Spike's voice came through the phone. Sombra suppressed a powerful urge to groan audibly into the receiver, and instead rolled his eyes. "Transfer her to me, thank you." "Right away sir." As the dial tone began, Sombra sighed. Why did Cadence always have to call at the most inopportune times? Spike reclined on his bed, sighing. Four whole months, and he hadn't been fired yet. He'd call it a miracle, but that would imply he hadn't been trying his damndest at work. Mr. Noir was...an interesting employer. He was suave, collected, perfectionist. Or at least 'near' perfectionist. The man was just the tiniest bit...picky. Spike had yet to fuck up irredeemably though, so for the most part, he and his boss got along well. The older man had even once paid him a compliment on the outfit he wore to work one day. He'd also been slowly adjusting to the fact that Sombra was drop dead gorgeous. It wasn't an easy feat, but Spike now was able to completely and totally ignore the intrusive, sexual thoughts he got about his boss. Along with that adjustment came yet another: getting over his longtime boyfriend. He'd made a bit of headway, in that regard. Not enough that he could stand going to the places they used to go on dates or hangout at without tearing up, but enough to at least finally retire the emo songlist he'd been listening to on repeat. Ember had finally managed to break through to him on moving on...albeit in a strange way. You see, Spike and his ex had been...sexually active. And the two of them weren't exactly vanilla either. Spike had a bit of a...the more tasteful term would be 'preference', but it was definitely a kink, for crossdressing in the bedroom. Cute little skirts, frilly maid outfits, panties, stockings, garterbelts... It made him feel good, and as his ex had often purred amorously at him while caressing his lace covered ass, it made the other man feel good as well. However, he hadn't bothered with it in months now, and it was taking a bit of a toll on his self-confidence. Crossdressing, as peculiar as it may sound, brought him out of his shell. Made him feel confident in himself. Sexy. Ember knew this. They'd been friends since highschool, and she hadn't hesitated to wring every precious detail out of him regarding his relationship. So one day, she sent him a message. 6:39 p.m. Yo Spike you still got all that crossdressing shit? 6:41 p.m. Yeah why Ember is typing... 6:42 p.m. send me a pic of you wearing that 6:44 p.m. wtf why???? Ember is typing... 6:45 p.m. Cuz i think it'd like help you? confidence building or whatever the fuck 6:47 p.m. okay so no offense but how in thee fuck is sending you nudes supposed to build my confidence???? Ember is typing... 6:50 p.m. ok hear me out so like im gay, right? I like pussy girls ladies 6:51 p.m. I know, ember im...pretty aware Ember is typing... 6:52 p.m. Yeah so getting nudes of you wouldn't do shit for me, right? 6:53 p.m. I mean i guess??? Ember is typing... 6:55 p.m. cmon spikey, put the pieces together!! you send me pics of you all dressed up and i can platonically tell ya that you look nice eh? eh? Long story short, that was why he was now laying on his bed, wearing nothing but lacy purple panties, black stockings, and a frilly magenta garterbelt. His glasses sat on the night stand. He used them for reading, but he didn't really require them to navigate his phone. He'd take quite a few...provacative pictures already, as he'd done once every week or so since Ember had thought of the proposition. Mirror shot, picture of him with his legs splayed, privates almost visible through that lacy material, a particularly nice shot of his rather thick ass being squeezed by the aforementioned panties... All captured beautifully by his phone camera, attached to a message that simply read: 'how do these look?' He heard a loud knock at the door, which was likely the pizza guy. Not paying too much attention, having done this several times already, he quickly sent the message and promptly tossed his phone onto the bed, gettting up to answer the door. Spike chewed on his pizza as he opened his conversation with Ember... "Hmm?" The message, coupled with the pictures, was not there in his messaging history. Frowning, he set down his slice and wiped his fingers with a napkin, then began typing. 7:32 p.m. Yo, embs I sent you those pics a couple minutes ago but they aren't showing up in the history did you get em? I know I sent them to you... so is it a glitch? Spike waited, slightly anxious. Ember is typing... 7:34 p.m. uhhh no??? no lewds on this end my guy Spike's frown deepened further, then all of a sudden, a cold, hard lump of pure dread dropped in his stomach. "No...no fucking way..." He quickly backed out of his chat with Ember, and looked at all the contacts he had lined up. He had texted Mr. Noir before, having been given his cell number around a month ago. All work related, of course. His contact had been listed as 'Boss'. Ember, on the other hand, wasn't listed as merely 'Ember'. No. She was listed as 'Bad Bitch Ember', mostly for kicks on his end. Utter fear pooling in his stomach, he hesitantly clicked into his chat with Sombra.. And was greeted with a pristine, hi-res picture of his ass. Spike let out a loud, prolonged noise of distress, nearly chucking his fucking phone across the room in almost a fit of panic and terror. He had sent his boss his nudes. He had sent his fucking boss his goddamned nudes. Around an hour later, roughly halfway across the city from where Spike's apartment was, one Sombra Noir prepared to go over the texts he'd received for that day, a glass of wine accompanying the monotonous task. Author's Note Oopsey woopsey. Spike made a fucky wucky. A wittle fucko boingo~
4. "Accidentally?""Don't you get it!? I'm doomed, Ember! My life is fucking over!" "C'mon, it can't possibly be that bad. Just tell your boss it was a mistaken text?" Spike, who was currently resting his forehead against his steering wheel, let out a whine of sheer distress. "Even if it's mistaken, I still sent my boss my fucking nudes, Em! I'm fucking good as fired! I may as well just ask the receptionist for my pink slip when I walk in!" The girl on the other end sighed. "Dunno what to tell you Spikey...least you can do is be professional? As long as he knows it was a sincere mistake, even if he fires you, you might get a decent recommendation later? Oh yeah, sure. Spike could practically fucking see it. 'Oh, Mr. Sparkle? He's a decent worker. Makes a good macchiato. Has a star birthmark on his inner thigh and has okay taste in lingerie.' "I'll...I'll come by later, Ember. Make sure you've got some ice cream." You know it baby. Take care, alright Spikey? The boy clicked off the car phone, and leaned back in his seat. Okay, so, best case scenario: Mr. Noir didn't even see the message. He might have an auto delete set up on non-important texts, and he was pretty sure that as a personal assistant, he didn't qualify. They communicated solely over phone call or through email. Sombra hadn't even noticed his scandalous photos, and he was worrying about nothing. Worst case scenario: He now had a case with HR for sexual harrassment in the works against him, and would never work again anywhere in this city...hell, anywhere in the country. His family would disown him for being a complete pervert, and he would end up penniless and destitute. 'Strangely enough, the worst case scenario was way more implausible...' Oh gods, it was almost time to clock in. Gritting his teeth, Spike scooped up his briefcase, turned his car off, and stepped out. He was sincerely hoping for the best case scenario. "Yes, Mr. Noir wants you to report to his office ASAP. He said it's a matter of the utmost urgency." Well fuck. Spike forced a nervous smile onto his face. "Oh, r-r-really? That's...that's great! I-I've been meaning to speak with him too, s-so that works out!" Gods he hoped he sounded more confident than he felt, because how he felt was on the verge of a goddamned panic attack. Denise raised an eyebrow, before returning to her computer work. "I'd hurry up if I were you. Whatever you're in trouble for, the reprimanding you're going to get will be even worse if you're late." 'Gee, thanks Denise.' "R-Right! Right, of course, s-silly me—" The deflated boy made his way to the elevator, calling one and stepping on as if his loafers were crafted from solid lead. How was he going to even handle this? How was he going to explain this? He was up shit creek without a paddle...or even a fucking boat. The climb up to his boss' floor was torture, and Spike half wished that the thing would catastrophically fail and crash down the shaft, turning him into finely minced hamburger meat upon impact. But nonetheless, his desperate wish was not made reality. The telltale 'ding!' of the elevator sounded out, signifying his arrival at his destination. Spike's time was up. He stepped out of the elevator with a tremble in his step, feeling vaguely lightheaded as he left it behind. This was it. He had approached his doom. Sombra took an agonizingly long time to tell the boy to enter. Spike could've sworn his fucking heart would stop beating as the seconds wore on, until at last. "You may enter, Mr. Sparkle." Taking a moment to bid a sorrowful farewell to his career, Spike took in a soft breath, grabbed ahold of the brass doorknob, and turned it. The creak that sounded out after his entrance made Spike cringe like nothing else. "Close the door behind you." Spike nearly jumped at the sound of Sombra's voice. Fuck it sounded so much scarier all of a sudden, probably because Mr. Noir was going to eat him alive— "Of...O-Of course, Nr. Noir." He managed to stammer, closing said door with shaky hands and fidgety fingers. "...I'd appreciate being looked at if we're going to speak, Mr. Sparkle." Spike's soul felt as if it would mist out through his nose and exit his body, before the boy slowly turned around to face his likely furious boss. "Y-Yes...you wanted to speak with me, sir?" "I did. Please. Have a seat." Oh, he was so fired. So fired he could practically taste the fucking ink on his pink slip. Spike stepped towards the chair lined up in front of Sombra's desk, and gingerly sat down, as if the chair was some sort of torture implement. Sombra seemed to be all business, as he opened up a medium sized armoire near his desk. "Did you have a safe trip here, Mr. Sparkle?" Fuck's sake, was the man seriously trying to make small talk when he was moment's away from permanently fucking Spike's chances of being anybody in this city!? "U-Uh, fine...? D-Decent weather, n-nice traffic..." Fuck, wait, that was backwards— Sombra hummed noncommittally, and Spike heard the sound of a cork popping off, and the distinct glug of bottled liquor. "Very nice...now...onto business. You do know why I called you into my office, correct...?" This was it. The end. The grand fucking finale of his career. He shrunk down in his chair as if he could meld with the pleather seat cusion. B-Because...B-Because I accidentally sent you...c-compromising photos of myself?" He murmured, face hot with shame and humiliation. The sound of pouring liquid froze, and so did Sombra...then after a few seconds, he managed to utter one simple word: "Accidentally...?" Spike's head snapped up so hard he nearly got whiplash. "S-Sir...I...yes. Those were accidental. I-I didn't mean to, really. Your contact was just very close to my friend's and I-I—" Wait. The confusion in Sombra's voice, liquor being poured...the fact that he wasn't even being reprimanded... The assistant began processing. Slowly, of course. As to not fry his fucking brain. "Mr...Mr. Noir...? Were...were you...assuming I sent them on purpose...?" The other man was stock still, holding the bottle of red wine in a death grip. Spike decided to be brave, and stood to his feet, then carefully walked over to his boss. Just enough to see what he was doing, and— Holy shit. No fucking way. "Sir? Were you...pouring us both a glass of wine? Were you about t-to...about to proposition me?" Finally, Sombra reacted, bringing himself from his daze to set the bottle down and then look over his shoulder at the shorter man. "To be fair, I assumed you were propositioning me." Spike's brow furrowed. "So...so you were what...? Reciprocating? Isn't that against company policy?" Sombra's expression soured and he made his way over to his desk with a soft chuckle. "I am the CEO of this company, Mr. Sparkle. 'Company policy' is whatever I wish for it to be, as long as it is within the bonds of federal legality. And there is nothing illegal about indulging a pretty boy like yourself." Spike could feel his neurons frying as they spoke. Pretty boy!? Sombra was still trying to flirt!? He was actually interested!? "I-I...don't think that's a good idea, sir. Fraternization can lead to troubles in the office—" "I'm not going to be giving you preferential treatment, if that is what you're referring to. Our relationship during business hours would remain the same. But off of those hours..." He leaned forward, blood red gaze smoldering. "I would be glad to indulge in you, Spike." Oh fuck, why did the way his first name was said by Sombra sound so hot!? "S-Sir, I..." Spike swallowed thickly, making his way back to his chair before he flat out collapsed or fainted. "S-So, what sort of relationship are you even suggesting...? Is this a sugar baby thing? Friends with benefits? D-Do you actually want to date me?" "Mm...a bit of column A and column C, dear boy. I'd be willing to give you extra funds on the side if you need them. And friends with benefits doesn't have nearly enough exclusivity for me. I want you to be mine alone." A shudder passed down Spike's back and his face felt torrid. His alone? This was starting to sound like some trashy, bargain bin smut novel. "Yours...alone. I...wow, okay..." The boy rubbed his temples and looked blown away, leaning back in his seat. "You...aren't gonna fire me if I say no, right?" Sombra almost looked insulted, hand raising to his chest and eyes narrowing. "What? Of course not. Do I seem like the type of man to blackmail someone into my bedroom? Or even a man that would need to? Hardly. If you say no, I'll leave the matter here, and you may return to your work as per usual." Spike shuffled softly. "I...I see..." He then looked at his shoes, flustered. His attractive, affluent boss not only saw his nudes, but now the older man wanted him to be his little boyfriend. It was like a damn fantasy, and he felt as if he was seconds from waking up. "...is there a catch that I'm not being told Mr. Noir?" Sombra cocked his head, then hummed. "I would have disclosed it with you regardless, but yes. I should make you aware that my sexual proclivities are...less than vanilla. If kink bothers you, we cannot make this work." Oh damn. Taking a moment to process, Spike responded. "I-I...kink...? I-I know the term, of course ...but you should be more specific. When you say kink, do you mean...like, BDSM...or something fucking weird." "The former...I can lay out my hard and soft limits for you later, if you accept my proposal." Spike shivered. He was actually talking about entering a BDSM relationship with his boss. And...and he was...conflicted. "I...need time to think about this, sir. It's...quite a bit to unpack." Sombra frowned, before nodding. "O-Of course. This isn't a commitment to jump into willy nilly. Could I at least have your answer by this time next week...?" A whole week to decide. It somehow felt like a generous deadline and yet...didn't. "...okay. Sure, sure, I-I can work with that. I just need...processing time." "I understand. Now..." He moved back over to his armoire (which apparently doubled as a wine cabinet), and picked up one of the glasses of wine he had poured prior. "I'm sure you could use some to make you less high strung. Here." He walked around his desk and handed Spike the glass, the boy's eyes wide. "I...isn't drinking on the job against—" The deadpan stare he received made him shut up and swirl his glass, before lightly sipping, a million thoughts racing through his mind. Thankfully, he at least had a week to figure things out. Author's Note I'm not even gonna pretend I know why this took forever, because I just dont, lmao. Hope you enjoyed, and hopefully next chapter comes much swifter.
