"Yes, yes, and I see you've very much made yourself at home. Which is great! It is, however. Please just -- "
He's staring at Zane's collarbones, he realizes, a beat too late, and busies himself with taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his sweater while he talks. "Be aware that your office also opens into a very public hallway. And perhaps you might not want to answer the door in just underwear, in the future."
A slow, pleased smile is slowly creeping up Tom's face as he realizes what's happening. Darling is flustered. Darling is staring. The scientist is fairly easy to read, but this truly takes the cake.
Tom could be nice and throw a robe on--he's stolen a silk kimono from somewhere around the building and it's tossed messily onto the floor--but this is too good. Instead, Zane takes a step forward, reaching out to touch the other's cardigan.
One of the worst things about Tom Zane is how physical he is. Even just at their first meeting, Zane had insisted on touching his chest, his arms. And god, the memory of those long, elegant fingers sliding around his wrist lingers still.
And now here he is, practically naked in the dim light of his office, rubbing his fingers over the material of Darling's sweater.
"It's just a little unprofessional," he manages to say, finally, after too long a pause. "And I can't take you out like this, certainly."
Tom's eyes are very close to starting to roll--yes, yes, Darling, he's unprofessional, what else is new--when the last half of the sentence comes through those very pretty, very pert lips.
"Hmmm?" His voice is casual, but that too intense gaze is back, index finger looping through a button hole of that cardigan and tugging him playfully closer.
"Tests, again? I don't need pants to get blood drawn, but I won't pass a drug test right now. Just being honest."
"No, but -- " He hates the way his voice catches when Tom tugs at him. Darling is trying so, so hard to remain as professional and aloof as possible, knowing all too well how dangerous it is to form anything approaching a romantic idea about someone you work with.
"I did get permission to take you out for a while today. The Director agreed that it was a good idea, not keeping you cooped up in here all the time."
Thomas Zane stills completely, his whole body tense and taut and tightly wound as he desperately, emphatically, begins to search Darling's eyes for some form of lie, or catch, or something. There's a very faint glimmer of something similar to hope daring to escape.
"Of course I asked." He almost sounds a little offended that he wouldn't. But then he sees the tension in Zane's posture, and there's an urge to soothe him in some way. He reaches up with the intension of touching his arm, perhaps, but abandons the thought at the last minute and adjusts his glasses, instead.
"There are rules, places I can't take you, that sort of thing, but we can at least go out and get something to eat."
Zane feels his breath leave almost immediately, a dizzy sensation overcoming him. Joy.
Oh, he hasn't felt this in a while. Sheer, unadulterated happiness, the thrill, the excitement--a date. A date outside, and with Darling, no less. He thinks he might cry. He almost does.
Overwhelmed, Tom grabs the good doctor's face and pulls him closer, kissing his cheek.
And Darling lets it happen. Doesn't pull away, but instead lets his hand come to rest at Tom's elbow. He laughs, a shy, nervous sound, and tries to pretend the gesture doesn't leave him as warm as it does.
"It's Italian, it's not that exciting," is all he can come up with to say, cheeks tinged red and his fingers curling around Tom's arm.
"You've been in here too long. You deserve to be able to go out for a while."
He wants more, of course. Of everything: of this moment, of Darling's time, of the taste of freedom--and who's to say he won't just leave for the principal of the matter. He wants more of Darling with his guard down, he wants more nature. His second outing, then. Darling and Zane's second date. The woods.
His mind is far too excited to focus on anything. He grips Darling's incredibly hard shoulders, half hopping up and down from sheer excitement, still entirely too close.
"Yes. Yes! You and I, and dinner and a movie. Oh, yes. Yes, yes."
He needs to get dressed, of course. He needs to get ready. Zane does in a flurry of editing: he splices reality. Trims the fat for pacing issues. There isn't a need for a montage, just a three or four rough cuts and he's clothed, grabbing Darling's hand. He's in a fantastic mood.
It's a little dizzying, the way Tom moves. Or doesn't move -- appears not to move. He's in one place, and then another, and suddenly he's in front of Darling, dressed and in makeup, and Darling feels a bit of breath watching it all happen.
"I did promise," he says, a bit dumbly, because Tom is a whirlwind that he seems to be caught in the centre of, and it's throwing him off balance.
"This might need to be fixed, though," he points out, gesturing to Tom's half undone shirt. "You don't need a tie or anything like that, just. Slightly less skin might not be amiss."
Tom looks down, and then at Darling, and for a split second it looks like he's going to refuse on principle. Just a casual 'no.'
But Darling is going out of his way to do this for him, he realizes, and buttons up the shirt most of the way. It's the least he can do--and maybe he'll be less of a hellion towards the other from now on.
That is if he doesn't decide to leave, which he'll absolutely be able to. He's smarter than a lot of people realize down here. But for now, he brings his middle finger to gently bump Darling's glasses back onto his face properly by tapping the bridge.
The gesture is sweet, and Darling can't quite help but smile at the almost tender adjusting of his glasses. Tom's excitement is contagious, and he finds himself something near giddy, as well.
"Well, I know what a hardship it is for you to wear a shirt on a regular basis," is the wry response. "I wouldn't want you to feel put upon."
"Always looking out for me," Zane sighs happily, a flutter in his chest at the sight of Darling just as excited as him. This is going to loosen him up, hell he's already riding the wave.
After all. It is a date. Zane tugs on the other's cardigan a second time.
"Let's get going! Wouldn't want to miss it." And Zane wants out of this damn building.
A date. He gets to have a date. Tom gently grabs the other's wrist to tug him along to where he assumes the exit is.
"Italian and a movie... so few things are as tried and true!"
"Yes yes, all right -- sorry, to the left, actually." He's trying very hard not to laugh as Tom drags him along, but it's difficult to keep a straight face when Tom's being so very enthusiastic.
"I've gone here a few times," he explains as they walk (or as he's led, really). "Since it's close by, it works well when I absolutely have to get out of the office. Good pizza, decent pasta."
"So you do leave the offices!" Zane's pleased words sound more like crowing as he follows instructions without missing a step--there's no point in hiding how happy he is. This is a date. This is a date with Darling.
"On occasion, I do go outside. I'm still human, I do occasionally require sunlight." Although he's not quite aware how important or romantic Tom considers this outing, it's still fun to be able to go out and spend time with someone outside of the office.
When is the last time he had fun? Genuine, non-work-related fun. Far too long, really.
Once they're out of the building, Darling takes Tom by the elbow to guide him in the right direction. "Just a block and a half this way, and then to the right. At least it's a nice enough day for a walk. It would be terrible, to have it rain on your day out."
Everything is, quite literally, a breath of fresh air to Zane. And as Darling points out, there's clear skies. It's not nature--and Zane misses that, the woods, the lake, the source of inspiration as much as his muse is--but it's something. It's not the Bureau.
He'll never understand why someone like Darling can willingly shackle himself to a place like that. His dedication is fascinating, but how much of that is him, and how much of that is Trench?
Zane finds himself slowing down considerably, taking everything in. Breathing low. When he stops walking together, his hand moves from Darling's wrist and slides down to his hand, holding it.
"Darling." A polite request to wait for a moment. Zane doesn't let go of the other's hand as he closes his eyes and just listens.
It's the work, really. He genuinely does love his work, and his research, and tends to lose himself in his projects more often than not. Part if it is to try and impress Trench, because of course he wants to impress him, but it's not just Trench.
Working with parautilitarians as a regular, boring human being is trying, at times. Trying to replicate through science what others do as easy as breathing. It's disheartening.
He's pulled from his thoughts when Tom takes his hand, so gently. But he pauses, watching Tom curiously as he goes still. Trying not to think about how lovely he looks, quiet like this.
Zane grounds himself. Has a moment. Inspiration strikes--or it's an old poem, and he's forgotten in the tizzy of being free, of being near Darling, of being mundanely intimate like this.
"To find a long lost doorway home Or be led to parts unknown And forever disappear beyond this veil?"
He opens his eyes, smiling softly, pleased, and when he starts to walk again he keeps Darling's hand in his, lacing their fingers together. Almost there.
"I want to know how you grew up. I want to know everything about you."
The poetry catches him a little off guard. Despite Tom's artistic nature, he wasn't expecting him to just -- recite a poem like that.
"That was lovely," he says, quietly stunned. "Did you -- oh." But they're walking again, and Tom is still holding his hand, and Darling isn't sure why he doesn't pull away other than it's nice.
"I'm not that interesting, I promise. Just an odd kid who grew up reading books about unexplained events who was able to turn it into a career."
"I think that's very interesting," Zane counters, and that same small, gentle smile is on his face. He wants to encourage the other as much as possible. If not for his own good, than because Darling's much more cuter when he's stunned because of Zane and not being humble.
"I also think you're entirely too hard on yourself."
"Too hard on myself?" He'd never thought of it that way before, but he frowns a little at the idea. Is he? Maybe so. He's always pushed himself, but that's just having a good work ethic. Isn't it?
"Maybe it's the other way around. Maybe you're just too easy on me."
"Are you calling me easy?" Zane asks, blue eyes wide in mock indignation. A hand moves to his chest, tapping it in a quick, dramatic fashion before he's wiggling his fingers.
Darling groans, but it's good natured, and he shakes his head at the comment. "I do keep walking into those. Shame on me.
Oh -- " They reach their turn, and without thinking too much about it, he tugs at Tom's hand to move them in the right direction. "This way, we're nearly there."
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He's staring at Zane's collarbones, he realizes, a beat too late, and busies himself with taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his sweater while he talks. "Be aware that your office also opens into a very public hallway. And perhaps you might not want to answer the door in just underwear, in the future."
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Tom could be nice and throw a robe on--he's stolen a silk kimono from somewhere around the building and it's tossed messily onto the floor--but this is too good. Instead, Zane takes a step forward, reaching out to touch the other's cardigan.
"Does that bother you? Your face is awful pink."
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And now here he is, practically naked in the dim light of his office, rubbing his fingers over the material of Darling's sweater.
"It's just a little unprofessional," he manages to say, finally, after too long a pause. "And I can't take you out like this, certainly."
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"Hmmm?" His voice is casual, but that too intense gaze is back, index finger looping through a button hole of that cardigan and tugging him playfully closer.
"Tests, again? I don't need pants to get blood drawn, but I won't pass a drug test right now. Just being honest."
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"I did get permission to take you out for a while today. The Director agreed that it was a good idea, not keeping you cooped up in here all the time."
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"You did it? You asked? He said yes?"
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"There are rules, places I can't take you, that sort of thing, but we can at least go out and get something to eat."
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Oh, he hasn't felt this in a while. Sheer, unadulterated happiness, the thrill, the excitement--a date. A date outside, and with Darling, no less. He thinks he might cry. He almost does.
Overwhelmed, Tom grabs the good doctor's face and pulls him closer, kissing his cheek.
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"It's Italian, it's not that exciting," is all he can come up with to say, cheeks tinged red and his fingers curling around Tom's arm.
"You've been in here too long. You deserve to be able to go out for a while."
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His mind is far too excited to focus on anything. He grips Darling's incredibly hard shoulders, half hopping up and down from sheer excitement, still entirely too close.
"Yes. Yes! You and I, and dinner and a movie. Oh, yes. Yes, yes."
He needs to get dressed, of course. He needs to get ready. Zane does in a flurry of editing: he splices reality. Trims the fat for pacing issues. There isn't a need for a montage, just a three or four rough cuts and he's clothed, grabbing Darling's hand. He's in a fantastic mood.
"I knew you could pull it off, handsome."
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"I did promise," he says, a bit dumbly, because Tom is a whirlwind that he seems to be caught in the centre of, and it's throwing him off balance.
"This might need to be fixed, though," he points out, gesturing to Tom's half undone shirt. "You don't need a tie or anything like that, just. Slightly less skin might not be amiss."
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But Darling is going out of his way to do this for him, he realizes, and buttons up the shirt most of the way. It's the least he can do--and maybe he'll be less of a hellion towards the other from now on.
That is if he doesn't decide to leave, which he'll absolutely be able to. He's smarter than a lot of people realize down here. But for now, he brings his middle finger to gently bump Darling's glasses back onto his face properly by tapping the bridge.
"I never see you complaining."
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"Well, I know what a hardship it is for you to wear a shirt on a regular basis," is the wry response. "I wouldn't want you to feel put upon."
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After all. It is a date. Zane tugs on the other's cardigan a second time.
"Let's get going! Wouldn't want to miss it." And Zane wants out of this damn building.
A date. He gets to have a date. Tom gently grabs the other's wrist to tug him along to where he assumes the exit is.
"Italian and a movie... so few things are as tried and true!"
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"I've gone here a few times," he explains as they walk (or as he's led, really). "Since it's close by, it works well when I absolutely have to get out of the office. Good pizza, decent pasta."
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It's been so, so long.
"I was beginning to wonder."
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When is the last time he had fun? Genuine, non-work-related fun. Far too long, really.
Once they're out of the building, Darling takes Tom by the elbow to guide him in the right direction. "Just a block and a half this way, and then to the right. At least it's a nice enough day for a walk. It would be terrible, to have it rain on your day out."
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He'll never understand why someone like Darling can willingly shackle himself to a place like that. His dedication is fascinating, but how much of that is him, and how much of that is Trench?
Zane finds himself slowing down considerably, taking everything in. Breathing low. When he stops walking together, his hand moves from Darling's wrist and slides down to his hand, holding it.
"Darling." A polite request to wait for a moment. Zane doesn't let go of the other's hand as he closes his eyes and just listens.
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Working with parautilitarians as a regular, boring human being is trying, at times. Trying to replicate through science what others do as easy as breathing. It's disheartening.
He's pulled from his thoughts when Tom takes his hand, so gently. But he pauses, watching Tom curiously as he goes still. Trying not to think about how lovely he looks, quiet like this.
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"To find a long lost doorway home
Or be led to parts unknown
And forever disappear beyond this veil?"
He opens his eyes, smiling softly, pleased, and when he starts to walk again he keeps Darling's hand in his, lacing their fingers together. Almost there.
"I want to know how you grew up. I want to know everything about you."
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"That was lovely," he says, quietly stunned. "Did you -- oh." But they're walking again, and Tom is still holding his hand, and Darling isn't sure why he doesn't pull away other than it's nice.
"I'm not that interesting, I promise. Just an odd kid who grew up reading books about unexplained events who was able to turn it into a career."
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"I also think you're entirely too hard on yourself."
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"Maybe it's the other way around. Maybe you're just too easy on me."
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"Only for you, maybe."
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Oh -- " They reach their turn, and without thinking too much about it, he tugs at Tom's hand to move them in the right direction. "This way, we're nearly there."
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