Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There is a universal consensus among any nine-to-five employee. Or anyone who works, really. Everyone hates Mondays. But this one? This was a special circle of hell created just for you.

This particular Monday was the first time you were going to see Tenna, your tyrannical, violent, and now intimate boss, after the company vacation. After you let him ruin you. After you accepted his deal. Your stomach was a pit of fear, making the very idea of breakfast impossible. Every step through the familiar, sterile halls of the Studio felt like a walk to the gallows. The door to your office seemed miles away.

What were the rules now? Your mind was a broken record, repeating the same questions over and over. You had accepted, yes. A desperate decision, made in the heat of the moment. But now what? Were you dating the king of the news-nightmare? The idea was so absurd it almost made you laugh, a hysterical bubble of panic that you choked back down. You'd rather dig your own grave than face a prospect like that.

No. No, you weren't going to think about that. You weren't going to think about his weight, or the shocking heat of his skin, or the low, static purr that had vibrated you to your bones…

Damn it.

A treacherous heat tingled across your skin, a full-body flush that had nothing to do with the office air conditioning. You self-consciously tugged at the high neck of your blouse, in a futile attempt to hide the evidence. The bruises on your neck and hips remained, brazen and gaping. A permanent, painful reminder that it wasn't a dream. If you could just reach your office, lock the door, and bury yourself in paperwork, maybe you could, just maybe, pretend everything was normal. You could avoid him. You had to.

At least until Friday.

The thought was a bucket of cold water. Friday. His live show. Your moral compass and his ratings-driven monstrosity were on an inevitable collision course, and given his lack of morality and questionable methods, it was your direct responsibility to oversee the program and, if necessary, stop it.

Your thoughts were a crash of contradictions.

“Huff…” A weak, frustrated puff of air escaped you. The only outlet for the turmoil raging inside you. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. You were still his employee, the only one who could stand up to him. Showing an ounce of weakness wasn't just a personal failure. It was professional suicide. You couldn't afford it.

And you had never felt so completely unraveled.

The door to your office felt like a blessing in the middle of a battlefield. You were so close you could almost taste victory. At least you could forget your troubles for a while, even if it was short.

Wasn't it all a little too quiet? 

Tenna was ruthless when he wanted to be; the chances he was up to something were disconcertingly high. Yet, everything had been unnervingly quiet since you'd arrived.

He wasn't much of an early riser, either. You knew he could barely keep himself awake in early morning meetings, avoiding coming to work on time at all costs— a fact you'd confirmed when you slipped from his room after sleeping with him; he had been completely out. So, probably, maybe, you hoped you could avoid him until you decided how you were going to deal with him.

There was only one right answer to that, anyway. You'd simply have to pretend nothing had happened. And if Tenna refused, the same way he refused at the resort, you'd have to quit. But as the thought of leaving crystallized in your mind, the truth hit you: you didn't want to leave this twisted place. 

It was complicated, but you couldn't let him ruin the delicate balance you had; you wanted that fragile balance back. Boss and employee. Tyrannical boss and the only subordinate who could stand up to him. Couldn't things just stay as they were? You weren't going to deny it was one of the best nights of your life, but… Sigh, it was Tenna. Anyone with two brain cells knew there was much more to it than met the eye. How much of the rumors about his cruel nature were just exaggerations? He had proven himself soft and caring around you, yet a darker undercurrent always remained. What of all the rumors about him was actually true? You didn't know him well enough to interpret him, despite the newfound intimacy you now shared. He was a mystery, and much to your dismay, he was starting to pique your curiosity.

The doorknob of your office was cold to the touch, and it felt like a well-deserved rest for your sweaty hand. You told yourself it was just nerves, a mantra you repeated even as the office's ruthless air conditioning chilled your skin. You had arrived here without any disturbance. Perhaps the glimmer of hope you so longed for was closer than you thought. Perhaps, just perhaps, Tenna was also certain that the best course of action was for both of you to feign amnesia and that everything would return to normal.

Your office was freezing, but a sigh of relief escaped from the depths of your lungs as you closed the door. You leaned back against the wood, letting your exhausted head fall. It wasn't going to be an easy week.

“Don't you think it's too early to be sighing?”

You froze. Holding your breath, as if that could hide you from the predator lounging in your chair, his back to you. 

Should you run? Ignore him? You hadn't even seen him, and he'd already elicited this reaction from you.

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, what were you supposed to do now—?

The chair swiveled with torturous slowness. There he was, seated comfortably at your desk, legs crossed, a confident smirk plastered on his screen. That damned smile that made you so angry. You'd swear that every time you saw him smile like that, your head split in two: the part that wanted to strangle him and the part that wanted to kiss him and shut him up.

He was shorter, too. Your office wasn't designed for him to fit in without bending down at his normal, imposing height, and your chair definitely wouldn't support the weight of someone whose midsection you could barely reach.

“Why are you so surprised?” He hummed. “I was dying to see you. I couldn't help myself.” He rested both arms on your desk as if he owned it. Every move made you feel smaller and smaller. “Are you coming over of your own accord, or do you want me to bring you here?”

It was a threat. It was absolutely a threat.

“Why are you here so early?” You demanded, the words coming out much harsher than intended. It was your body's natural reaction to the predator that had appeared before you.

He simply tilted his head. “Because I wanted to see you.” He answered as if he were repeating the most obvious thing in the world. “And you?” He stood, circling your desk. “Didn’t you miss me?”

You swallowed hard. The way he stalked you brought the memories rushing back, pooling low in your stomach.

You looked away when he stopped in front of you, leaning imposingly over you. You realized you wasted the chance you had to open the door again and escape. But, realistically, who could blame you?

His hands were tucked into his pockets, the perfectly tailored suit failing to disguise his predatory relaxation. That infuriating smile was still there.

“Darling, look at me when I’m talking to you.” His words were accompanied by two fingers under your chin, guiding your face to his. “You're still the only person I shrink for; it's more fun when I can see your reactions up close.” A whimper left your throat. Tenna knew you danced in the palm of his hand, and he wasn't about to miss this chance to remind you.

“If you really didn’t miss me,” his voice dropped, a suggestive whisper that travelled down your back. “I should just kiss you until you do, don’t you think?” 

His suggestion barely registered. Before you could process what he’d said, his lips devoured you.

It was just as you remembered. The smooth, cool texture of his screen melted you in an instant, your arms flying around his neck. He wasted no time, using your surrender to slide his tongue into your mouth, tracing every weak spot he’d memorized, making you give in, making you his. The hand that slid down your waist and the one that landed in the curve of your neck were so soft, soft, soft, soft—

“Tenna,” you moaned his name against his mouth, and that seemed to bring him back.

He let out an annoyed growl as he pulled away from you. His hands ran up and down your arms before he tore himself from your body. “I don’t have the willpower to refuse you right now.” He sighed against your mouth. “But I need to talk to you,” he sighed against your mouth. His tone shifted abruptly; now he was talking about work. “Can you come to my office in a while and bring the Upcoming Programming Schedule?”

“What’s wrong with that?” you asked, puzzled. A hint of frustration rose in the back of your throat.

“Problems, at least for me.” The sigh that followed sounded weary. He didn’t seem to want to elaborate.

Part of you wanted to hug him and make him feel better. But the dominant part remained on guard. What were you supposed to do now? It was clear Tenna wasn’t going to pretend nothing had happened. The kiss had been proof enough.

His body leaned against yours, letting his weight press you against the door. Damn.

His hands slithered down your back, his arms acting like a prison that wouldn't let you escape. You were putting all your strength into supporting his weight; if your legs gave away, you'd both fall to the ground. One hand brazenly pressed against your buttocks, massaging them slowly.

You watched the ease with which his hand touched you through your pants, crudely… He was definitely a complete pervert. However, you didn't stop him for the moment.

“You're too heavy,” you declared, placing both hands on his shoulders, trying not to lose your balance.

His response came in the form of a groan from his screen, which was resting on the crook of your neck.

“I can't carry you any longer,” you pressed again. You needed him to return to his professional demeanor before someone came.

The hand that had been resting on your butt suddenly lifted you, spinning you around in the air. The shock made you squeal. You still weren't used to him carrying you around.

“Is that the only problem?” he asked from your shoulder, walking away from the door. “Doesn't anything else bother you?”

In one swift motion, he had you sitting on your desk, his hands caging you on either side. He slid between your legs, his chest pressing you back, trapping you completely. Somehow, you were grateful you'd decided to wear pants to work today; a skirt would have ridden up to your waist in this position.

“What do you think you're doing?” You placed both hands on his chest, trying, half-heartedly, to push him away. The ease with which he handled you had lulled you into a dazed compliance.

Someone could certainly walk in at any moment and see you in a very compromising situation. The audacity of this man, seriously.

“Hm?” For a moment, he stepped back, letting you see his screen. It was black, and you were beginning to understand that he did that when he was up to something. He stood in front of you for a few seconds, perhaps analyzing your expression, before using the softest tone you'd ever heard. “I need to recharge.”

As if to prove his point, his screen returned to your neck. This time, his lips barely grazed your skin, tickling you.

“That's not what I meant. What if someone sees us?” Your anger seemed to vanish in front of the giant dog before you. You let your hands climb to his shoulders, your thumbs circling his suit.

“No one's going to come into your office,” he whispered in your ear. His fingers now splayed on your waist, stroking up and down. “It's been the longest weekend of my life. It was more comfortable when there wasn't a suit in the way.” He seemed to say the last part to himself, but you understood perfectly what he meant.

It was more comfortable when there were fewer clothes between us.

Memories of the resort flooded back into your mind. His room lit only by the moonlight filtering through the curtain. His soft laughter and your body covered in sweat. Your muscles ached from the exertion, your legs trembled around his waist, squeezing tightly. His name escaped your lips like a mantra as he continued each thrust with agonizing slowness— You blinked once. Twice. Ah, you'd fallen for him again. You never thought the day would come when you'd find yourself struggling to deny Tenna anything, of all people. 

How did he do it? The anger of giving in to him so easily began to bubble up inside you.

His chest vibrated, and you felt his laughter against your neck. “I was hoping to last longer without putting my hands on you. But I guess it’s not a bad deal, if I’m being completely honest.”

His overconfidence only made things worse. There. Your thumbs stopped moving. Deliberately, your hands slid from his shoulders to rest, cold and still, in your own lap.

The change in attitude didn’t go unnoticed by him. The way his shoulders stiffened and his entire body tensed was quite noticeable. It was clear he hadn't expected to make you angry now, and he didn't know what to do about it.

“Are you angry? Why?”

Men. You sighed internally. Your feminine instincts kicked in, just as any woman's would.

“I'm not angry.”

Liar! You were, but you knew you wouldn't admit it even over your own grave.

“Look at me.”

No, thank you!

If you had known it would be so difficult to refuse him when he used that soft voice after sleeping with him, you might have thought it twice. Now you had discovered a new weakness of yours, and you were sure Tenna was quite aware of how prone you were to give in when he begged you like that.

“Look at me.” He repeated, and you finally realized you had closed your eyes. Your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, and your shoulders were rigid from the tension in your muscles.

You opened your eyes, and your breath caught in your throat. You traced the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest with each breath. His neck, a well-defined blend of metal and plastic, disappeared behind his immaculate shirt. The knot of his tie, the way it rested on his chest, and the suit clinging perfectly to his figure. Why on earth did he have to be so handsome? For some reason, it only made you angrier.

You understood then that any answers you wanted from this man, you would have to find yourself. And there were many things you wanted to ask him. But none of them would form a coherent sentence on your tongue.

His screen tilted, tracking your every move in a desperate attempt to read your thoughts, to fix whatever he had unknowingly done to ruin your mood. What were you going to do, anyway? You had no idea; the only thing that seemed right in that moment was having him close to you.

Your eyes settled on the black screen, emitting a low murmur of static that seemed to jump every time you blinked.

It was only now that you noticed he smelled only of his cologne. There was no trace of the characteristic smell of ashes or cigarettes.

Hadn't he smoked today? That was strange. Tenna was a complete nicotine addict.

“What?” he finally asked when you didn't seem to react after a moment.

“You asked me to look at you.”

And you saw it in his very being— that was the crack that shattered the dam.

The sound that came from the back of his throat pulled you from your thoughts. His screen was still black, but now it was rigid, fixed on your face. You could feel his attention travel from your covered neck to the curve of your breasts and down to your hips. Your body, treacherous and seduced by the attention, caused an unconscious moan to escape your lips.

And that seemed to break him completely.

His shoulders tensed, and his antennae, which had previously been drooping lazily in your direction, straightened completely. But what caught your attention most was the way his gloves stretched at the fingertips. Tenna rarely extended his claws, but you knew them. You had seen them on more than one occasion in the past, but the way the silhouette of his hands lengthened was something you had never paid much attention to before. “I can’t even hide it, huh.” His voice was laced with bitter self-deprecation, but beneath it was a hint of desperation that you had recently become familiar with.

He leaned over you with agonizing slowness, but every cell in your body immediately went on alert. It was the instinct of a defenseless herbivore cornered by a hungry carnivore.

Even so, you refused to move. It probably stemmed from that proud and determined part of you that had worked under his command for so many years. Your eyes didn't leave his screen as he leaned, nor his hands that slithered around you like snakes; your heart pounded in your ears.

“You know?” he began, his voice almost a whisper, stopping just inches from you. His height, though not as titanic as usual, was very much in character, keeping with the ruthless person he normally portrayed. “How do you expect us to continue working together?” His shadow engulfed you completely. “If you keep looking at me like that…”

You didn't understand the provocation, but you had to respond. Your pride couldn't allow him to have the last word.

As your mind raced, your peripheral vision caught his hand, moving closer to your face. The way his hips pressed against your core— Gods, you could already feel him through his pants.

“Like what?”

Well, no one said it had to be a smart question.

“Like you want me to devour you right here, right now.”

One of his claws, softened by the smooth texture of the glove, ghosted over your lower lip from corner to corner. “What makes you think I have enough self-control to stop myself when you're looking at me like this? Do you even know what I’m thinking about doing right now?” As if he needed to prove his point, he pressed his hips against you.

The air rushed from your lungs, the delicious friction relieving the ache building between your legs.

No, no, no. Don’t answer. You’ve already proven you weren’t in your right mind enough for this not to end in something you’ll regret.

He didn’t let you answer.

“But…” He started again, pulling you from your thoughts. “I’m still thinking.” He declared, delivering another thrust, redirecting your discomfort to the clothes that were now between you.

You tilted your head, questioning him. You couldn't say anything without being absolutely certain it wouldn't come out as a moan begging for more.

In return, before he could continue, you decided to return the favor by other means.

You grinded against him, making sure he could feel your whole body through the clothes, using the desk as support to get him closer. Your hips, belly, and breasts pressed firmly against his suit. Your hand took his tie, grabbing it roughly to bring his screen to your face once more. The surprise made his screen return to normal, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. How you wished to sear the image of his shocked expression into your memory forever.

He no longer had to pretend or keep his distance. His hips were moving rapidly now, seeking the friction you, too, desperately craved. Your office was now filled with sighs and the sound of clothes rubbing together.

The kisses became short, desperate gasps against each other's mouths, stealing what little breath remained. You wanted to rip off his suit, his tie, his shirt. Anything that stood in the way of feeling his body against yours.

“Damn, I’m already late for a meeting.” He sighed before capturing your mouth again. Despite his statement, the rhythm as he rubbed against you didn’t seem to slow down.

“Go.” Despite what your words said, your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist didn't seem to loosen their grip at all.

Neither of you was close, and the desire was frantic. But you both agreed to separate after a moment. It was hot. Your short, labored breaths made the office chill disappear completely.

Your legs trembled. You could feel your damp underwear sticking to your skin. Hell, you didn't want to find out what state he was in. As if he'd read your mind, he smiled lazily.

“I'll be fine. I have extra clothes at my office.”

Your gaze dropped to his pants. It was a good thing he was wearing black. If anything, the only clear evidence was the prominent strain of his erection against the dark fabric, any other traces mercifully hidden.

“Look,” he began again, bringing a gloved hand to your cheek. The claws were gone again. “Coming all the way here was a mistake, I admit it, okay? But still, I'm not going to ruin you like this. I want you to enjoy every moment you're with me so much that it's etched in your memory, and I'm not going to ruin it just because I'm too horny to hold back.”

You felt that separating from you was almost painful for him. He took several steps back, and the distance between you never felt so cold. But you both had responsibilities to fulfill. He turned and faced away from you, each breath so deep that it made his shoulders rise.

“If I keep seeing you, I’ll never calm down. I need a moment.” Somehow, that made you feel embarrassed, as if everything you had done so far hadn’t been awkward enough already.

His fists were clenched tightly at his sides in frustration. “You…” His voice was rough, strained, struggling to find his usual authority. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I’ll see you in my office after my meeting.”

You scrambled under the desk, straightening your clothes, wrinkled during the, ahem, exchange.

“I’ll go get some coffee,” you said after making sure you looked presentable.

He didn’t reply. He was leaning against the wall away from the door, still with his back to you, his figure looking far too weak. You didn't dare interrupt that moment. Tenna would never want anyone to see him weak, not even you.

You pressed your lips together; it would be best to leave him in your office a little longer.

You hesitated for a moment. This man would definitely be the end of you.

He seemed to cross the line between his professional and personal selves as if it were a chalk line drawn on the floor. The way your memory saw both the man in the suit and the man moving rhythmically over you, superimposed, was torturous. He couldn't possibly know, under any circumstances, how close you'd come to taking off his tie right there.

And so, with one more worried glance back, you went to the door and left your office.

When you arrived at his office later, you couldn't help but admire the imposing dark oak doors before you. You'd been here many times, but the butterflies in your stomach had a completely different origin than usual, and it was more terrifying than ever.

After a moment of guilty reflection and deep contemplation, while he left for his meeting, your feelings evolved into a mixture of guilt and adrenaline. Once again, you had let Tenna do whatever he wanted, without setting the boundaries you had already established in your mind.

Now you would have to face him again, and that, somehow, was terrifying.

You clutched the papers in your hands. You somehow had no idea what or who Tenna had been meeting with, but it seemed strange that it was important enough to get you both out of the situation you were both entangled in.

As you approached the door, you could hear two voices from inside. He wasn’t alone? He wasn't alone! It was a miracle. You could feel relief wash over you in an instant. You knew how delicate it would be to be alone with him again; there was only one possible outcome.

You couldn't make out anything from the conversation, but it was too late to back out. You took a deep, shaky breath, begging your pulse to slow, and knocked softly.

“Come in.”

You sighed deeply and opened the heavy doors.

The first thing you noticed was a thick cloud of cigarette smoke. You wrinkled your nose and fought back a cough before proceeding. It was already strange that Tenna hadn't smoked when he'd come to see you earlier, but the fact that he was now in this environment was worrying. You could guess that the meeting had stressed him out, but you still had no idea about it.

The interior of his office was decorated with fine wood and had a gloomy atmosphere that you often wondered where it came from. The floor-to-ceiling bookcase on one of the side walls impressed you every time you came; it truly was a work of art.

Mike stood in the middle of the room, looking at Tenna, who hadn't bothered to look up from the reports on her desk when you entered, stubbing out her cigarette in the already overflowing ashtray.

“Good morning,” Mike said wearily, glancing at you over his shoulder. The day had barely begun, and he already looked like he was about to collapse.

“Good morning,” you replied with an apologetic look. You could understand the sentiment. But before you could say anything else, Tenna spoke to him again.

“I don't care how, Mike. I don't want them here, and if I have to burn the whole city down to get them off my show, I will.” You knew that tone; you'd heard it a thousand times before. Something had set him off, and the possibility of him exploding on a Monday before lunch suddenly became so real that you'd have to make a mental note to avoid making him any angrier.

Tenna… You sighed inwardly.

The mental note was promptly ignored when you raised an eyebrow, completely unaware of the situation that had Tenna fuming and Mike exhausted. But seeing your confused expression, Mike enlightened you with some context.

“It’s about the guests on Friday’s show.” He began, but was cut off by Tenna almost immediately.

“Find a reason to decline this. I don’t care if you justify it with gut feeling and bad vibes.” For the first time, he addressed you, and for some reason, the interaction made something burn inside your chest. Yes, this was a feeling you knew. It was the anger and audacity that his persona stirred in you, the way he bossed everyone around him, as if they were mere worms. You could almost taste the anger from past encounters, and for a moment, you completely forgot what had happened between you.

The papers he handed you were crumpled where he'd taken them, as if he could barely restrain himself from throwing them away. You quickly scanned them. It was an Application Form for a Guest appearance on Friday's broadcast. There were two names on the list of Proposed Participants.

The first was a surprise, but you understood the displeasure coming from him. It was Queen. And along with the application was a rather thick packet with her information, possibly detailing why she would be a good candidate. But it didn't really matter to you; you already had a clear answer.

The second was an unfamiliar name, with a photo of a strikingly beautiful woman. The form indicated that she was a rising actress who had become quite famous in recent months. On the final page, a space for the signatures of all the department heads was almost full, except for the space above your name, waiting to be signed and approved. If you refused to sign, the paper would be thrown away.

You lowered the documents, bringing your arms to the sides. Something was stirring inside you, slowly taking hold of any remaining shred of reason. The ghosts of the kisses they'd given you weren't enough to soothe the anger that he was making you feel, nor all the fights you two had had in the past.

“I don't want them here, under any circumstances. And I don't care what you have to say about it, Mike.” Again, his angry tone wasn't even directed at you, as if you were completely invisible.

And that made you angry.

This idiot, this damned bastard. How dare he? Who did he think he was? And now he was ignoring you as if you didn't exist? He called you all the way here just for this?

You were so stupid.

And something, something you didn't expect, came out of your mouth.

“No.”

The office fell into an eerie silence, both of their attention turning to you. The murmur of static suddenly invaded your ears. Tenna's screen had gone black, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Mike sweating profusely under the pressure. You couldn't blame him. The most basic part of you, the instincts most deeply rooted in your self-preservation, told you that you hadn't just entered the dragon's lair, but had awakened it while it slept.

The sweat that broke on the back of your neck was icy cold.

But that didn't stop you. The courage and the need to defy him wouldn't subside, no matter how much your inner voice screamed for you to stop. The defiant gaze you fixed on him never wavered.

“Battat, get out of my office. Now.” Tenna ordered without taking his screen off you. His attention was fixed on you, but swallowed by black. You couldn't tell what kind of expression he had at that moment. Did he say Battat? Who was that?

But Mike slipped away without a word, practically running for his life. You could see him stumble and almost fall, but the adrenaline kept him on his feet long enough for him to dash to the door and slam it shut behind him.

The office fell into an eerie silence. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, but that didn't seem to stop you from staring defiantly at Tenna. He leaned over his desk, silent. One arm slowly slid down, but your eyes followed his every move in slow motion. He rested his head on his hand, lifting his chin slightly, as if signaling you to elaborate on your answer.

You took a deep breath, hoping your professional mask would hold until you were out of there.

“I’m not going to turn Queen down. First, I have no reason to— her application seems quite complete. Second, I don’t want to get blacklisted just for the sake of it.” It would be downright stupid to follow his orders just because he was in a bad mood, especially if they involved Queen. But if he really needed to reason with her at this point, you'd make sure to send him a full report later.

“Second, give me one good reason why I should reject a candidate who's already been approved by the rest of the Heads of Department. I work with them; I know they have good judgment.” You crossed your arms, waiting for his shouts in response. You weren't going to let him intimidate you.

But all you got was a deep sigh. Whether it was the calm before the storm or a light at the end of the tunnel, you couldn't tell.

The silence stretched on for what felt like hours. Until a low static escaped from his speakers. It was like a purr.

“You… You really have no idea, do you?” When he finally spoke, he seemed to be debating internally. You couldn't tell if what he was holding back was anger or exhaustion. After a moment, his intimidating facade returned to normal. “You want a professional reason? Well, Queen is too wild, a ticking time bomb, and I don’t want her here. The other one…” He paused, as if he didn’t want to say what he really wanted. “You just don’t understand how hard you’re making this.” His voice trailed off, and your eyes fell back on the man who had knelt before you just days before.

He leaned back in his chair, making it creak under his weight. His hands still rested on the desk, and your attention was drawn to his gloved fingers. It was like a trance; suddenly, you were back on your hotel bedroom balcony, sitting next to him, those same fingers in your mouth. The memory made you swallow hard as a wave of shame and need washed over you. You fought the sudden urge to squeeze your legs together.

“One, give me one good reason to reject that girl, Tenna.”

He remained silent, somehow reminding you of a child caught lying to their parents. You approached his desk, but it was too high. Of course, it was designed for him; your neck barely cleared the surface. You shrugged and returned the folders you held, sliding them as close to him as possible.

He rested his screen on his hand, tilting it slightly, but it was impossible to read him when his screen was a void of black, hiding whatever calculation was happening behind it.

Tenna didn’t answer your question. His screen remained a void, but his voice dropped, losing its professional edge and slipping into that intimate, static-laced murmur that went straight to your core.

“You’re right. I don’t have a reason. Not one that would satisfy you.” He leaned forward again, the distance between you feeling suddenly charged.  A cold knot tightened in your stomach. He just lied. “But this… this stubbornness,” He spoke, as if the word left a bad taste in his mouth. “Is this really about the show? Or are you still punishing me for this morning?”

He showed a crack in his own armor. Mixed with the lie he just told you… There was that gut feeling. You decided to weave with care.

“I can’t think straight when you look at me like that.” His gloved hand gestured vaguely between both of you. “How do you expect me to give you professional reasons when all I can think about is the sound you made when I had you on your desk?” As much as you wanted to melt once more into his words, the suspicion didn’t let you.

“Come here,” he said, his voice soft, almost pleading. It wasn’t an order. It was a request, and that was far more dangerous. He was lacing the fake freedom he was offering you with the uncontrollable desire growing between both of you.

“Why?” you asked, rightfully suspicious.

“Because I’m not going to yell. You’d like me much more when I'm begging, wouldn’t you?” His screen flickered back to life, his expression unreadable but intense. “But if you don’t come here, I’m going to get up, walk over there, and finish what we started in your office. And I don’t think either of us wants to explain that to the next person who walks in.”

Come to me willingly, or I’ll take what we both want and damn the consequences. 

As you reluctantly approached, the atmosphere shifted. Every instinct screamed that this was a mistake, but your feet carried you forward anyway. The space behind his desk felt like sacred ground. It was the first time you had been on this side of his office, and it felt like a profound transgression.

“That’s it,” he purred, his voice dropping into that resonant frequency that vibrated in your teeth. He didn’t move to touch you. He just looked up at you, his screen beginning to soften at the edges, the light within starting to swirl lazily. “Now, look at me. Just look at me and tell me the truth. Do you really want to fight about this?”

“No.” You answered honestly.

The moment the word left your lips, the world tilted. A wave of powerful dizziness washed over you, your vision blurring at the edges as if you'd stood up too fast. The lazy swirl on his screen was the only fixed point in a suddenly unmoored room. You stumbled, your knees buckling, before Tenna’s arm snapped out to catch you by the waist.

“...Huh?” The word was sludge in your mouth. Why would you want to fight him? The thought felt alien, a relic from a different mind. No, a distant part of you whispered, those weren’t your thoughts.

“It's okay, relax.” His voice sounded distant, like an echo bouncing around inside your skull.

When he lifted you to sit on his lap, your world spun. You couldn't concentrate; your head was throbbing, and your eyes began to hurt. What was happening?

“Just relax… and focus on me.” Relax. The word wasn't a suggestion anymore; it was a commandment, turning a lock deep in your mind. His voice became a sacred whisper that every cell in your body was wired to obey.

And most of you wanted it that way. It would have been so easy to get lost in his words in this moment. Of course you would forgive him. Why wouldn't you? You just had to obey him, relax in his arms, and let everything be right between you.

Your arms felt too heavy to lift, even though you wanted to hold him close.

Tenna’s voice was the only thing that mattered. “It’s so much easier when you just obey. You’ll reject the guests for the show. You’ll be happy to do it, for me.”

Obey. The word felt… warm. Right.

A split second before the command could fully root itself in your mind, the lights in the office flickered.

Tenna’s purring static hitched, ever so slightly. Annoyance, not yet alarm. His grip on your waist tightened.

Then, his landline rang. 

The old, abandoned thing in the corner that wasn’t even supposed to be connected.

He froze, in front of you, and your ears were no longer filled with his voice, but a slow, peaceful Christmas tune that glitched ever so slightly every few notes.

He turned his head, equally distressed and confused about why the old phone could be ringing now. “How—?!” He yelled, but it was already too late.

The cozy, fuzzy warmth in your mind shattered like glass.

It was a violent, physical return to your senses. The dizziness didn't fade, not yet. But the horrifying realization of the strong arm around your waist solidified like a rock. Your head pounded, the afterimage of the swirling screen seared onto your retinas.

You were in his lap. His screen was still trying to cycle through the repetitive pattern, but it was glitching now, stuttering between his face and the swirling void.

A sheer, visceral horror washed through your body, leaving you cold and stiff.

Tenna didn’t acknowledge you immediately. He was rigid with a fury so absolute it chilled the air. He wasn't looking at you anymore. His entire focus was on the phone.

And in the sudden, deafening silence of your own mind, one thought screamed louder than any hypnotic command. 

He was in your head.

“You tried to hypnotize me.”

His mind snapped back to you like a whip crack. You were putting the pieces together too fast, and he knew it.

“Wait a minute—!”

But you were already moving, shoving yourself off his lap so violently you stumbled, putting the massive desk between you. The room tilted, your head was still spinning, and it was incredibly difficult to focus your vision.

“No.” The word was a ragged gasp, ripped from a place so deep inside you it hurt.  “Don’t come near me.” You vomited with difficulty, unable to tell if the dizziness was making your words carry the venom you were spitting out.

He froze, half-risen from his chair. It seemed your words had hit their mark, but seeing his expression through the blurry vision was impossible.

Tenna had betrayed your trust in the most despicable way. He was going to force you to do something that… Had he already done it before?

It detonated like a bomb.

The resort.

Oh, gods. The resort.

That night. The way you’d given in so easily. The way you let him touch you so freely, without resistance, breaking down every barrier you’d so carefully built… You thought it was a connection. You thought it was real.

Had it been?

The possibility pierced your chest like a dagger. Had he been deceiving you all this time?

Was that the first time? A soft, hypnotic purr under the moonlight, a swirling pattern in his screen you were too dazed to notice? Had he programmed you to want him? To accept him?

You knew the emotion reflected in your eyes, because he wasted no time in retorting at you.

“Just listen, alright?!” His voice boomed in your ears, your still-recovering senses overloading, making you cover your ears in pain. 

That took him aback for a moment.

“Wait, wait!” He continued, minding his volume this time. “I didn’t mean to!” He was torn between obeying you to not approach you and trying to help you and hold you close. “Hear me out for a moment! I just need to explain it!” But his voice no longer carried the trust you blindly put in his hands.

It was a moment after that when your senses came back, clear enough for you to stand straight. Undiluted, raw rage burned in your eyes.

“I am done here.” 

Unlike the last time you left the room, you didn’t bother looking back.

Chapter Text

Tenna's voice came through the phone like a blast of ice water. Pluey watched as Battat's eyes closed in fear.

From what Battat had mentioned when he returned, Tenna was in a particularly bad mood today. And that meant pain for both of them. It was strange, Pluey thought, the days before the vacation, Tenna had been quite calm. He hadn't told anyone, but a couple of days before they left, he'd caught the boss smiling to himself. The sight was terrifying; his fur stood on end afterward, and Jongler spent the entire afternoon brushing it again. But still, he hadn't confessed it to anyone. Tenna wasn't someone you provoked.

“Boss?” Battat's voice came through the phone like a thread.

But there was no immediate response, not even a whisper of static. Pluey couldn't help but hide behind Jongler, waiting for his boss's outburst on the other end of the line.

“Boss…?” Battat tried again, his insecurity practically dripping from his skin.

After a moment, Tenna finally spoke.

“Cancel everything I have for today…” he began, and a fresh wave of dread washed over Pluey. That already sounded like trouble. “And tell Pluey to come to my office, I'm going out.”

Uh oh… Pluey hated field trips with Tenna.

A cold shudder ran down Pluey's spine, making his fur puff out. Jongler turned and tried to comfort him by patting him on the head.

The call ended without another word, and Battat let out a heavy sigh before turning to him. “Will you be okay? I'll get what you need ready.”

Battat was very kind. Pluey had to be strong so Battat wouldn't get in trouble with Tenna later.

Jongler nodded beside him. “I’lls take care of arranging da boss’s schedule..” Ah, he was going to leave them alone for a moment. Battat would surely want to talk to him.

Pluey wasn’t so ignorant as to not understand that Battat and Jongler always tried to look out for him. Especially when it came to Tenna. He was the gentlest of the three, and Tenna had always seen that as a weakness… Sure, Tenna knew Mike’s secret and knew each of them, but he hadn’t bothered to ask for explanations. Since Mike did an excellent job, and Tenna didn’t have time or space for useless people around him, so someone like Pluey was completely replaceable to Tenna. But Battat and Jongler had somehow managed to keep him on their side, and that was the only reason he was still part of 'Mike'.

Pluey rarely dealt directly with Tenna, and he wasn’t seeking it out either; this was a special occasion.

“You don’t have to worry about anything.” Battat approached him, the green cloak billowing gently without his Mike suit. Pluey adored that cloak. “Just do as he says and everything will be fine, understand?” Pluey purred as the Pippins stroked his head.

Even so, his brows furrowed.

“Everything will be fine…” he repeated, as if trying to convince himself. “Here,” Battat handed him a somewhat heavy backpack. “There’s medicine in here. If your HP drops, make sure you use it.” Glancing at the backpack now slung over his shoulder, he noticed there was more than enough to fully heal all three of them, with some left over.

Battat had seen Tenna that morning. If he had packed all this… Pluey shook his head. He preferred not to think about it.

“Go now. It’s no good to keep him waiting.”

Before he could cross the threshold, Battat called after him again.

“Take care, okay?”

And with that, Pluey left the room.

Tenna’s office door was ajar, and the smell of cigarettes was so heavy that Pluey couldn’t stand it. His eyes watered even through his suit. After a couple of gentle knocks, Pluey opened the office door and was met by the imposing figure of his boss.

The air was dark with smoke, Pluey knew he couldn’t let his guard down now more than ever.

His suit jacket was draped over his chair, and he was leaning against the window behind his desk, observing the Dark World.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the gloves that were normally pristine white had been replaced with sleek black ones that weren’t doing much of a job of concealing his extended claws. The star, a lighter shade than his vest, was prominent on his back, where it was normally hidden beneath his suit jacket. If Tenna let the star on his back be seen, it could only mean one thing.

Well, Tenna was angry.

“Did you cancel everything for today?” he asked without looking at him.

Even though Tenna’s gaze was out the window, Pluey nodded. It hadn't been him personally, but his colleagues had done the job. Even though Tenna knew they were three different people, he often treated them as one. Whether it was because of their efficiency or because he simply didn't care, Pluey had never figured it out.

The cigarette Tenna held between his lips ended up in the ashtray. Ashes fell like snow onto the desk; he'd have to make sure to clean it up as soon as they got back.

Tenna put both hands in his pockets, rising from the wall in one fluid motion. As he turned, Pluey noticed his screen was off.

Pluey had noticed it before, but he seemed to be the only one. He'd never seen Jongler or Battat mention anything about Tenna's black screen. There was a different feeling to it—a heavier, more ominous kind of black, and with a calmer, uncaring aura. Tenna's black screen could be for two different reasons: either he'd turned it off, or he was actually transmitting black. Even though Pluey could tell the difference by the light Tenna reflected, he still wasn't sure what each meant. This time, his screen was truly off, and even though Pluey didn't quite understand how Tenna felt, there was a dangerous air about him.

He wondered why Battat hadn't shown him this particular side of Tenna, considering Battat never stopped talking about him. Most of the time, it was because Battat cared so much about Pluey, and how he, the Mike most prone to failure, could possibly handle Tenna's difficult personality. Thanks to that, he'd realized the problem wasn't that Battat hadn't wanted to tell him, but rather that he hadn't noticed.

Pluey nodded to himself, pleased with his conclusion.

Tenna's footsteps dragged heavily around his office. Pluey ran behind his desk and grabbed his jacket from the chair. He had to stop himself a moment when he saw a shiny little thing threatening to fall from his suit jacket's pocket.

How odd, Pluey would have never guessed this was Tenna's taste. The delicate, simple, silver chain fell into the pocket once more before he followed Tenna outside.

Tenna walked with a slightly hunched back, taking long strides that Pluey had to hurry to keep up with. When they reached the doors of the TV Studio, Tenna stopped.

Pluey clutched his backpack tightly; his boss simply resigned himself to looking ahead, straightening up, and continuing to walk.

The alley Tenna had decided to use as a place for another smoking break was quite far away now. They had walked through the city streets for a long time, and Pluey was silently grateful to be able to rest his legs.

As Pluey looked around, Tenna's voice broke the silence of the alley. The cigarette in his hand was slowly burning down.

“What the hell do you want?” he asked, and tension returned to Pluey's shoulders.

Pluey turned to look at him. But Tenna was still staring at the ground, his screen off.

The cigarette slipped from his hands and fell to the ground before being kicked out with disdain.

“I don't want to ask again.” His voice boomed, much louder and angrier. “What the fuck do you want?”

Pluey's fur stood on end. He was afraid, and he knew it all too well.

Pluey's mind raced, trying to figure out how to deal with Tenna's change of mood without having a clue what it was. He still had the things Battat had given him; that would be his lifeline for now.

But his concentration was broken when short, timid footsteps echoed in his ears.

His eyes traveled to the alley entrance, illuminated by the city's bright lights, and there he noticed a familiar face.

Battat had been carrying a folder with this woman's picture on it that morning—a candidate for Friday's program.

But in her face, he couldn't see a trace of the confident, beautiful woman in the photo.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, and her eyes were fixed on Tenna's shoes.

This woman was terrified.

Pluey understood immediately why, when he turned his attention back to his boss.

Tenna was trembling with barely contained rage. His hostility and revulsion seeped from his body like an overflowing fountain, and the sound of claws tearing through gloves through the clenched fists at his sides was all he could hear.

He hadn't said a word, and the best idea the woman had to calm him down was to let out an incoherent mix of sobs and terrified whimpers.

This was the kind of impression Tenna made when he wasn't working.

The reason Mike continued working at the Studio, even though his secret had been discovered by his boss, was that he understood that Tenna was very kind when he was working, compared to his personality outside of work.

For him, it was quite easy to resort to violence to solve his problems, and his lack of mercy was directed at everyone equally.

That woman was sensing Tenna's raw, murderous intentions.

“How long are you going to keep me waiting, you damn psychopath?”

Pluey stopped his train of thought. Wow, he hadn't noticed until now. Tenna wasn't talking to that woman.

Splat

The sound came like an unpleasant distortion. A jarring color spread across the floor from the street into the alley.

Pluey immediately felt revulsion. It was so unpleasant that he couldn't help but back away. He didn't need to be a cat to understand that it was blood.

Blood.

It was someone's blood.

A lot of blood.

Could someone lose that much blood and still be alive? Where did it come from?

Pluey didn't need to answer his question.

Step. Splash.

Step. Splash.

Step. Splash.

Everyone's attention shifted to the sound echoing in the alley, giving the woman a moment to catch her breath in Tenna's distraction. The sound of heels was charged with power and confidence, and Pluey knew immediately that he should duck and hide behind Tenna.

Elegant, dramatic, dangerous.

Queen was never to be underestimated. The boots dripping red and sticky were the very proof of that.

And judging by the smile she wore and the way she seemed to infuriate Tenna with every step she took, something was going on that Pluey was absolutely unaware of.

“Your manners remain as caveman-like as ever, Tenna darling.” The voice was supposed to sound melodious, but the artificial undertone robbed it of some of its charm.

Queen reveled in luxury and intimidation, and Pluey didn't know how to stop staring at the tail that swung back and forth. Unlike his own, which was soft and fluffy, Queen's was thin and grim, like a whip. He was sure that tail would slice through anything it touched like paper.

As a demonstration, Queen wrapped her tail around the waist of the woman who looked as if she had lost her soul sometime since her arrival. The limb slid like a serpent through the woman's body, wrapping around her waist and upper body until it got itself tangled around her neck.

Pluey knew it was a threat; if the woman moved, Queen would slit her throat cleanly.

Tenna raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by Queen's antics, almost as if ordering her to hurry up and speak.

“Oh, come on! Don't be rude, after all the trouble I went to to find her for you.” Queen continued mockingly. “You already slept with her, didn't you? Didn't you say she was your type? Why are you acting like this?” Her visor displayed a large green LOL, as if all the tension of the situation was just a joke.

Tenna clicked his tongue in annoyance, but didn't give her the satisfaction of replying yet.

The TV's attitude didn't seem to meet Queen's expectations, and she immediately disentangled herself from the woman, pushing her aside.

Her mask was slipping, and Pluey noticed Tenna take a step forward, completely obscuring him from Queen's direct view.

“Your persistent silence suggests a luxury variable—let’s call it ‘obstinate recklessness’—that I can’t afford, Tenna.” Her smile faded, and the seriousness in her voice suddenly took hold. “But by all means, continue to prioritize your silent tantrum. It provides me with fascinating data on the limits of your unassisted intellect.” Her tone was different; there was no trace of the false warmth that allowed someone to approach her.

That was definitely an insult, but Tenna didn’t react. Instead, he remained calm and tall in front of her.

As quickly as Queen’s mask had disappeared, it reappeared again in a cheerful and relaxed tone.

“Fine, I suppose I have no more use for you, my dear.” She said, finally addressing the woman who was trembling where Queen had pushed her. “Disappear.” Although there was a lightness in the way she said it, it was a command that should not be ignored for any reason.

The woman took off running, crying desperately.

Tenna looked at the woman leave with a furrow on his eyebrows, to which Queen immediately added.

“I’ll take care of it, why are you worrying about it?”

Pluey didn’t understand what she meant.

But, well, that would solve one problem for Battat. Pluey would have to make sure to tell him as soon as he got back that there was now only one guest at the show.

However, that wasn’t all. Queen shortly smiled again.

“By the way, did you like my new ringtone?”

…

The wind stung Pluey’s ears, and when he blinked, Tenna was no longer standing in front of him.

And the sound of the kick connecting was a sickening thump of force meeting an immovable object. But Queen hadn't moved an inch.

Her tail wrapped around his calf, holding him still, pressing so hard that his pants wrinkled tightly around his leg. But as much as she squeezed, Tenna’s body wouldn’t break just by sheer force alone

“So that’s what it was, huh,” Queen muttered to herself, a twisted smile playing on her lips. Tenna snarled, a raw, distorted grunt erupting as he tried to wrench his leg free. It was useless.

“If I’d known it was going to bother you so much, I would have done it sooner, Tennaboy!” Despite the size and strength difference, Queen didn’t seem to be putting in any effort at all. It was as if all the force Tenna was using to strike was nothing more than a game to Queen.

“You’re quite stubborn, you know that?” With a slow, deliberate pressure that Tenna's entire body strained against, Queen forced his leg down to the ground, her tail uncoiling with a final, contemptuous flick. “You’re merely delaying an inevitable event. I am bound to know, Tenna.”

Tenna’s response came with a snarl. “Seriously, you should mind your own business.”

Queen laughed.

“Don't forget our dinner, okay?” She said it so casually that Pluey blinked in astonishment. Did she say dinner? With Tenna? Since when did Tenna eat in the presence of anyone else? 

“I don't want to. Thanks to you, I now have a bigger problem to solve.”

“I'll see you at eight.”

And in the blink of an eye, Queen slammed her tail against the ground, destroying the concrete beneath her feet, raising a huge cloud of dust, and forcing Tenna to back away. When the dust settled, Queen was nowhere to be seen.

Tenna had left, and that had given you a moment to process what had happened this morning.

Hypnosis… The more you thought about it, the harder it was for you to understand Tenna. And that bothered you. More than that, you felt… sad? Disappointed? Believing in Tenna didn't seem like a mistake, but how were you supposed to deal with what he had shown you so far?

Feeling your will bent like a piece of paper was a profound violation of your very being. He hadn't even explained why.

He was a complete idiot.

You were the one who was right. You should hold your head high and make it clear that you weren't going to back down this time.

“How long are you planning on hiding back there, then?” Ramb asked, looking at you over the counter.

Sigh, it was true, you had decided to hide. All to avoid a confrontation.

What a coward.

Tenna returned with Mike from wherever he'd been. You saw him enter the Green Room, absentmindedly dusting off his suit, which was smudged with what looked like concrete dust or ash. But you didn't wonder where he could have been since you darted behind the bar counter next to Ramb, pleading with him with your eyes not to mention anything about it.

Ramb raised an eyebrow, not too surprised. He was used to working with all sorts of weirdos. But the fact that you were hiding from Tenna instead of seeking a direct confrontation was certainly telling that something was really off.

When you peeked out, waiting for your boss to leave, you saw him looking around, searching for something. When his screen headed back to the bar, you ducked nervously again.

This was definitely the most ridiculous situation you'd ever been in.

Why on earth were you the one hiding?! He should be the one with his tail between his legs! You didn't do anything wrong!

Tenna's footsteps echoed, approaching the bar. You brought your hands to your mouth, stifling your breath.

“Ramb,” he began, his voice a low static hum.

Ramb took a step to the side, further blocking you. The glass he was polishing became your window. In its reflection, he stood at the counter, his head tilted at a strange, unnatural angle. He was utterly still, except for the slow, deliberate pan of his screen across the room as if he were a security camera. He was hunting.

Then came the sound.

A low, sharp click.

His claws were out. He stared at them, as if he didn't recognize them, and a cold dread settled in your stomach. He was so angry he couldn't even keep them sheathed. The memory of those same claws tracing your lip made your stomach lurch with a nauseating mix of fear and something else you refused to name.

His gloved fingers, which had been clenched, slowly uncurled and dragged across the air in front of him. It was a restless, agitated movement, like a big cat pacing in a cage. 

After a moment of heavy silence, Ramb asked, “Everything alright there, Tenna?”

Tenna didn't seem to hear. He raised his hand, examining the sharp points. His screen tilted slightly, his bare hand slowly lowering to drag across the counter in a restless, agitated sweep. He was marking the spot, staking his claim. His gaze in the reflection was blank, lost in whatever violent fantasy was playing out in his head.

“It's nothing,” he said, his tone flat and final, before turning away.

It was a long moment, during which you didn't realize you were holding your breath until the sound of the door reached your ears and Ramb crouched down beside you.

“Well?” he ordered bluntly.

There was no need to explain that it had to do with Tenna. What was strange was that you were doing all this just to avoid him. Normally, you would simply ignore each other's presence or argue loudly.

But this was odd.

You didn't know where to begin or what you could confess to Ramb.

Of course, Ramb! Everything's great! It's just, you know, Tenna tried to hypnotize me into turning Queen down for Friday's show. Oh! And you know, I also slept with him at the resort. Nothing weird.

What a mess.

Ramb sat down next to you as you hugged your knees to your chest, burying your face in your hands.

“Hey now, luv. It's quite alright, you know. I'm on your side.” Ramb's hand on your shoulder was warm and comforting.

“It's just, I don't want to see him right now. I don't want to talk to him.” You half-confessed. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

Ramb sighed heavily, as if searching for the right words to say next.

“I can't blame you, I mean, Tenna isn't the easiest person to deal with…” He paused for a moment, looking away. “But tell me something, honey. Does this have anything to do with what happened between you two at the resort?”

Your head spun like a cog in a machine. An accusatory glare pierced his eyes like a laser beam.

“Don't you look at me like that. It wasn't exactly hard to connect the dots, was it? From the photos—”

“You knew about the photos!” It wasn’t a question; he actually knew. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Ramb sighed. “From the photos to the rather strange way you've both been acting. I've always known Tenna had a soft spot for you, but assuming anything with him is just bloody stupid.” He finished, throwing his hands up. “What was I supposed to do? Confront him? I should think not.”

He was right, but that didn’t make you feel any better. Wait a moment, did he say Tenna had a soft spot for you…? Since when?

“Look, luv, I'm going to be honest with you. Do you really think anything would've changed if I'd told you Tenna was planning something? Or that he had your pictures?”

Ramb’s question cut deeper into your consciousness than you cared to admit.

You bit your lip. You already knew the answer, after all.

“You don’t have to answer that,” he continued, opening the cabinet next to him and taking out a couple of cans.

He was being polite, but there wasn't a single answer you didn't already know.

He offered you the cold can. It was a limited edition iced tea that you'd only been able to try once before. It had been so popular that it had sold out as soon as it arrived. So this was where the reserves were.

You raised an eyebrow, taking the can in your hands.

“Guilty as charged. But a man's got to take advantage of the few things outside of Tenna's control in this place, hasn't he?” he confessed without a hint of guilt.

“Fair enough,” you said as the can popped in your hands. “Ramb?” you asked, squeezing the tea between your fingers.

“Hm?” he replied, glancing at you sideways.

“Do you think it was a mistake? That I shouldn't have gotten involved in this in the first place? Maybe I should have rejected it from the start.”

Ramb remained silent. There was something profound behind his distant gaze, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

After a while, he mumbled something you couldn't hear.

“So Tenna hasn't said anything, huh…”

“What did you say?”

“It's nothing,” he continued, ignoring your question. “You still haven't told me exactly what he did that's making you avoid him right now.”

“About that…” You sighed. This was going to be an awkward conversation.

Ramb remained quiet as you recounted what had happened with Tenna earlier and how he had manipulated you for his own gain.

“But you already know, don't you?” he remarked casually when you finished.

You tilted your head, confused by his sudden question.

Ramb chuckled at your naiveté. “Why are you making that face? You already know exactly what happened at the resort.”

You watched him for a few seconds, analyzing his words.

“Yes. I know.”

“So that solves half the problem.” He laughed at your serious face. “I’m not telling you to let it go. You have every right to be angry. But at least you know your mind isn’t playing tricks on you.”

“I needed an outside opinion, but it’s not like I can just go around asking anyone, you know?”

Of course, no one could find out you’d slept with the boss.

Ramb’s humor slowly returned as the conversation continued. “Ha! You talk as if anyone here would even suspect you two are together,” he said with a laugh. As if to prove he was right, he immediately pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Lanino, putting it on speaker.

“Lanino, mate,” Ramb said, a playful glint in his eye. “Quick, absurd question for you. What are the odds you'd ever see our beloved boss Tenna, say, were to flirt with someone from the office, where would your bet land?”

Lanino’s voice came through in shock. “Schedule a mental health eval, dude. He'd first have to recognize the concept of 'flirting' as something other than to benefit him. Are we even speaking about the same Tenna?”

“Yeah, that tracks. Thanks, you've confirmed my theory. Cheers.” With that, Ramb hung up the call.

“I’ve never heard Lanino sound so serious,” you murmured as Ramb put the phone back in his pocket.

“He didn’t even stutter, ha.” Ramb could barely contain his laughter.

Still, that didn’t really solve anything.

After Ramb wiped the tears from his eyes between laughs, he spoke again. “Look, I still stand by what I said. I’m on your side. What do you want to do?”

What did you really want to do?

The right thing to do would be to quit. To leave this place and Tenna without looking back.

You turned your gaze to Ramb, and he smiled warmly.

“Your eyes tell me you're quite decided already… But I still need to ask, are you sure about this? It’s you against Tenna.”

“If anything he told me is true…” If a single thing he's been saying was true… You probably had a lot more to reflect on than you originally thought. “Then I won’t lose no matter what.”

After all, Tenna was right about something.

You liked him much better when he begged.

Ramb let out a long, deep sigh. “You’re brave, you know that? Or you’re completely crazy. Probably both.”

“I’d say stupid, but thanks for the support,” you replied, a small, weary smile finally breaking through your resolve.

“No one else could go against Tenna if they weren’t.” Ramb smiled back, the expression suddenly feeling heavy on his face.

How could he tell you now? That as Tenna was leaving, he had paused at the door. His screen turned just enough over his shoulder, a void of black aimed directly at Ramb. Without a word, he had lifted a single, gloved finger to where his lips would be.

The message was as silent as it was absolute: Not a word.

On your way back to your office, you were still deciding exactly what to do. Of course, that was because your goal right now was to get Tenna—the most formidable enemy in the entire Studio—to confess exactly what was going on. Why would he go to such extremes as hypnotizing you just to keep Queen and that woman away? It sounded like something beneath him. Tenna held the power in the Studio, after all. What was stopping him from using force?

There was a part of the story you didn't know yet, and Tenna, the only person who could tell you, was as thick as a brick wall.

What could you do now?

As if by divine intervention or the universe playing in your favor, you turned a corner and found your answer.

Well, if Tenna wasn't going to talk to you, you could always convince someone else to.

“Mike!” you called, approaching with a smile.

Mike turned to look at you as he left his office. The door slammed shut in front of him with a sudden, sharp thud that made him jump.

You stopped, your smile faltering for a second. That was… odd. But Mike’s wide, nervous eyes were fixed on you, his fluffy tail giving a tentative, friendly swish. The poor thing looked like he needed a moment of peace. You reached out and gently scratched behind his ear. He immediately leaned into the touch, a soft purr rumbling from his chest.

“Long morning?” you asked sympathetically.

He nodded vigorously, his entire body seeming to sag with relief at the kind touch.

“I can imagine,” you said, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Look, I need to ask you something. You were with Tenna this morning for that meeting he had, right?”

At the mention of the boss, Mike’s purring stopped. His ears flattened slightly.

“What happened in there?” you pressed gently, still petting him to keep him calm. “Something must have set him off for his mood to change so drastically. Did someone say something? Was it about the guests for Friday’s show?”

Mike's voice was muffled and weary. It didn't sound like it came from his mouth but rather the door behind him, but you decided not to pay mind to it. Mike always worked in mysterious ways.

“He, uh…” Mike trailed off, unsure if he should be telling you. But ultimately, he chose against his better judgment. “His meeting was with Queen, let’s say it wasn’t nice to watch.”

Mike, still under your hand, flinched at the nervous sound of his own voice, his eyes darting toward the door.

“Queen?” you repeated, your curiosity spiking. “What happened?”

There was a long, heavy pause from behind the door. You could almost hear the internal debate.

When Mike spoke again, his voice had faded, distant, as if he were seeing it all over again. “Tenna hadn’t even entered the conference room yet, and Queen was already there. Tenna got upset when he saw the woman with her—you know, the other guest for Friday. I’m not entirely sure what it was exactly,” Mike stammered. “But Tenna kept cutting Queen off, saying the same phrase over and over again.” He paused, his paw bringing you closer. 

So it really did have something to do with Queen. At least you could start connecting the dots from there.

Mike seemed to fall into thoughtful silence for a moment.

“You will not drag her or anyone of the likes to MY Studio.” Tenna had yelled, slamming his fist into the table in front of Queen.

But shortly after, his attention was back to you.

“I’ve never seen Queen so serious. It was very unnerving; only Tenna would risk making her angry like that. I’m glad nothing happened.” A moment of silence passed before he spoke again, the memory seeming to click into a new, awful place.

“That’s right, you don’t have to sign off on the second guest anymore. Her request was voluntarily withdrawn.”

“Voluntarily?” you repeated incredulously. This definitely reeked of Tenna.

“As voluntarily as it could be…” Mike finished with a sigh.

Of course, it was too soon to declare victory.

You were in the middle of the meeting with the other managers, discussing Friday's program, which had become the center of attention thanks to Queen's special invitation. Everything had to go perfectly. Then the double doors to the room opened.

Tenna ducked in through the doorway before standing tall again, his gaze sweeping the room, his screen swiveling from corner to corner, without pausing for a moment on you.

Huh.

Not that you wanted his attention anyway.

Everyone remained silent as the boss entered, and without any explanation (let alone an apology), he walked to his chair at the far end of the room and sat down. His jacket hung from his shoulders loosely, and you cursed yourself after staring at his vest hugging his waist for longer than necessary. 

You're supposed to be angry at him, dammit.

“You don’t need to fill me in.” He began, walking with his hands in his pockets, telling your colleague who was still speaking. “I’m already up to date.”

What?

He couldn't be. He'd been gone all day, presumably dealing with the fallout from Queen. As he settled into his chair, one of his gloved hands rose, and he deliberately covered the lower half of his screen, his fingers pressing against where his mouth would be. The gesture was oddly… pensive. But his screen remained a void of black, offering no clue to his thoughts.

And yet.

Hah.

And yet, a prickle ran down your spine. Despite the blank screen, despite his body being angled toward the speaker, you knew, with a certainty that chilled you, that his full attention was fixed on you. It was a weight, a pressure in the air that made the fine hairs on your arms stand up. You had to remind yourself to breathe.

The meeting dragged on. Points were discussed, logistics debated. All the while, Tenna was silently judging, that hand never leaving his face. It was more distracting than if he’d been yelling. What was he hiding? Contempt? Boredom? You found yourself stealing glances in his direction, unable to stop yourself.

It was only when someone directly asked for your approval on a segment that the wall of thoughts in your brain finally broke.

“I—yes, that’s fine,” you managed, forcing your focus back to the papers in front of you.

From the far end of the table, there was a shift. A low, almost imperceptible hitch in his breathing. You didn't look up, but in your periphery, you saw his black screen tilt a fraction of an inch in your direction. The hand over his mouth tightened.

And in a sudden, horrifyingly vivid flash, you understood. It wasn't pensiveness. It wasn't contempt.

It was restraint.

The thought was so absurd it felt like a physical blow. He wasn't hiding a frown. He was stopping a snarl. He was holding himself back, and the effort of it, the effort of sitting in the same room with you, hearing your voice, and not… not what—?

It had him in a chokehold.

The meeting ended. Chairs scraped back. You had to go back to your office for your things before you could leave this place. But you could already see the light at the end of the tunnel. Just a little longer.

You glanced back as you slipped out of the room, only to see it rise as soon as you left, the screen fixed on you.

You knew you'd have to hurry if you wanted to leave without any trouble.

And so you did. You arrived at your office fairly quickly and gathered your things as fast as you could, your heart pounding in your ribs. You would have given up if your apartment keys hadn't been there. But you breathed a sigh of relief, realizing you were just one step away from escaping this awkward day.

…

I mean, didn't the resort teach you enough? You should know by now that you couldn't escape Tenna if he was really after you, right?

The hallways leading to the elevator were deserted, and only the sound of your footsteps against the wood could be heard.

At least for now.

You couldn't tell if it was the changing shadows around you. The lights that flickered occasionally. The silence that followed each step you took.

The elevator was at the end of the hall, and how you wished you could continue ignoring him until you reached it.

“I know you're following me.” You sighed, stopping in your tracks. “What do you want?”

It wasn't a surprise when you turned around to find him there, standing tall in the middle of the hall, a few feet away. The screen was black, but the line of his mouth was visible, forming a grimace that almost looked like a pout.

There was a different aura about him, but you attributed it to his disheveled appearance.

His jacket still hung off his shoulders, and the vest, once impeccably buttoned, now hung open at the sides. Something caught your eye, something that made your breath catch in your throat.

It was a harness. A sleek, black, tactical-looking thing you'd never seen before, strapped tightly across his chest. The stark straps cut through the fine fabric of his shirt, framing his torso in a way that was both brutally practical and unnervingly intimate. It was a piece, a part of his anatomy he usually kept hidden beneath layers of tailored cloth and authority. Now, with his vest hanging open, it was on full display, and you could have sworn your mouth went dry just by the sight alone.

“I need to talk to you,” he said casually, completely ruining your plan to make a peaceful escape.

You didn't want to. Hell, you didn't want to.

The tension was palpable, and you couldn't let your guard down. Tenna noticed the way your shoulders tensed as he took a step forward, stopping again just out of reach.

You remained alert, your fists clenched at your sides. He sighed, shaking his head.

“I’m not going to do anything this time,” he said finally, as if that could change anything. “I just need you to listen to me for a moment, okay?” He began, trying to find the words that would lead him back to you, and to the trust you had placed in him.

But he couldn’t find them.

He seemed to be mentally debating what to do, and from the way his mouth twisted into a grimace and his fangs seemed to growl, you knew he wasn’t finding the answers he needed.

It was up to you then.

“Why did you try to hypnotize me?” Despite everything you had mentally prepared yourself for, it was clear in your tone of voice that you were angry.

Tenna remained silent. This idiot was as stubborn as a mule.

You took a step forward, a sudden rage taking over. The betrayal finally sinking into your gut.

It was so painful. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

“Was any of it real? The resort? Or I was truly right and I'm just a trophy for your wall?”

That finally got a reaction. A sharp, crackle. “Don't,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “Don't cheapen what happened.” He barked. “Don't you dare try to believe for one second that it wasn't real.” He ordered, but you noticed. You saw as his eyebrows furrowed. Heard as his voice cracked.

It was almost as if he was feeling the same pain as you.

“Then give me one reason why I shouldn't leave you alone right now!”

“Because I want you to understand, I want to protect you!” He snapped, his composure finally fracturing. He straightened up, his shadow stretching towards you. “That's what I'm trying to do, darling. That's all I'm trying to do.” His words came laced with infuriating frustration.

He began to pace, dragging his feet in an all-too-familiar way. “The hypnosis was a mistake. A stupid, desperate mistake I couldn't take back. Is that what you want to hear?” He stopped, his screen finally flickering to life, but in a glitchy mix of red and white. “But it doesn't change what needs to happen now. I need you to be careful this week.”

He was finally giving you something, but pivoting hard. You crossed your arms. “Careful of what?”

“Queen.” He almost bit his tongue as he was saying something ridiculous. “She'll be… around this week.” He said the words with utter disgust. “I need you to stay away from her. Do not cross her. If you see her, you turn around immediately, understand?”

“Why? What does she want with me?”

He paused.

“That's not your concern.”

“Like hell it isn't! You try to brainwash me the moment she's involved, and you can't even tell me why?!”

“I'm trying!” he roared, slamming a hand on the wall beside him. The silence that followed was deafening. He visibly struggled to regain control, his breath a low hiss. “Just... trust me this once. Without questions. Avoid her.”

It was the worst thing he could have said. The one thing he could never ask for again.

“You forfeited the right to ask me that,” you said, your voice cold and final. As you turned to leave, he closed the distance and grabbed you by the shoulders, holding you in place. His hands splayed across your shoulders, his thumbs reaching your spine with ease; the feeling could have been exhilarating under better circumstances.

“Just listen… Listen to me. I need you to—” But he cut himself short. The silence that fell over the hallway only intensified your anger. Your eyes traveled to his antennae, which suddenly straight and tingling atop his head.

“What are you—” His hand landed over your mouth, silencing you completely. The black glove had a certain metallic taste that you couldn’t quite discern.

Before you could protest, Tenna pushed you to the nearest door in the hallway. He carried you until he could close the door behind him, leaning against it with you against his chest.

For several minutes, he wouldn't let you move, pressing your back against his chest, preventing you from making a sound. The office he'd taken you to was dark, illuminated only by the city lights filtering through the window.

You could feel the harness digging into your back every time you tried to move. God, it was a huge distraction. He still kept one hand firmly pressed against your mouth, while his other arm had slipped around your waist, keeping you firmly in his grip.

Until you finally understood why he was acting so strangely.

Footsteps.

One, two. Three, four.

He was paralyzed; the sound of heels, one he knew all too well. And everything made sense in that moment.

Tenna was hiding you from the owner of those footsteps, Queen. The seriousness that gripped him made you obey, for once, until it was safe. The way his muscles tensed around you, and how his arms slithered around you to pull you closer, almost made you forget he'd tried to hypnotize you that morning.

He almost seemed concerned for you.

But this was Tenna, and the thought alone felt ridiculous.

The only sound you could hear was the echo of footsteps in the hallway, approaching the door. Relaxed, casual, and yet, at the same time, completely ominous with every vibration you felt.

As if your body had decided to follow his lead, you could feel the adrenaline coursing through you. Your hands landed on his, as if your touch could offer him some comfort or courage. Still, his arms wrapped tightly around you after that.

The footsteps continued, eventually passing the door… and they kept going without stopping.

The sound eventually faded into the distance, and only after a long while, during which the only sound was the echo of the city outside, did Tenna let out a long sigh that ruffled your hair.

The strength seemed to have left his body, because the moment he relaxed, you found yourself sliding into his lap against the door, until you were both sitting on the floor.

His legs were stretched out around yours, still holding you close, but the hand covering your mouth finally gave way, resting in the crook of your neck. Tenna didn't let go even as he leaned back against the door, his head falling back.

“Why are you so determined to avoid her?” you asked gently this time, stretching out against his chest. The fragile peace that formed afterward seemed more valuable than your anger, and for once, you wanted to hold onto it.

“Because she’s a crazy psychopath. A weapon of mass destruction with the appearance of a woman and the personality of the devil.” His voice, despite being laced with contempt for the target of his insults, was so gentle that it convinced you he didn't want to fight right now either.

And well, you hadn't expected a less honest answer from him.

“That doesn't make any sense. I don't understand why you're so desperate to avoid her; I don't think Queen is that bad,” you replied, resting your head on his chest. It wasn't like he was lying, anyway. You already had experience dealing with Tenna. How much worse could Queen be?

Your fingers instinctively explored his pants; your arms needed support, and his thighs seemed like the perfect spot.

“I'm not desperate,” he interrupted almost immediately. Sure, darling, I believe you. “And I need you to promise me,” he paused, his mouth open mid-sentence, his body shifting against your back, before continuing. “That you'll avoid her at all costs this week.”

“I won't make you a promise unless you tell me the truth,” you said, glancing around. The office was surprisingly peaceful. But it was time to go home; it had been a long day.

Your hands gripped his legs tightly, searching for the strength to pull yourself up.

But Tenna didn't loosen his grip. Instead, a deep grunt escaped his throat, making you stop in your tracks.

Huh.

You slowly raised your head. You couldn't see his monitor from this position, still tilted upwards, staring at the ceiling. But you could definitely feel his static jump every time your fingers twitched.

“Tenna?” The question came filled with confusion. It took you a moment to understand what was happening.

Your eyes traveled to your hands, finally grasping the situation. Your fingers were pressed firmly against the fabric of his suit, and it only took a slight glance upward to see how close they were to his hip.

Ah, that was right. Tenna is sensitive.

Your hands were practically one movement away from landing on the zipper of his pants, and that, of course, hadn't escaped his notice.

And in the midst of his lust, a brilliant idea struck you.

If Tenna wasn't going to tell you the truth willingly, you simply had to push him to the edge until he did. Leave him starving, and he might just hand you the truth on a silver platter.

Your thumb traced a deliberate, slow circle on his inner thigh, and that was all the exposure it took for the bulge in his pants to grow large enough for you to feel it against your lower back.

You had to bite your tongue to stifle the mischievous giggle that threatened to escape. “Tenna… What are you doing?” you asked, lifting your head again to see his screen behind you, clearly referring to his erection.

“I can’t help it, okay?” he finally confessed, lowering his head to let you see his serious expression. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line, but you could see something else: the colors of his NO SIGNAL screen, slightly blurred.

You decided then and there that part two of the plan would be not to fall for it. This man was definitely, definitely going to be the end of you.

You ignored the pounding that made your heart leap and raised a hand to his screen.

“You have no idea the effect you have on me,” he said, leaning in at your touch. “How can I think of anything else now that I already…” His hand slid down to your pants, while the other slithered from your neck to your breasts, squeezing without any remorse through the fabric of your shirt. “I know every part of your body. It’s torture having you in front of me and not being able to undress you every second.”

“But I’m still mad at you.” You guided his screen closer to you, tilting your head back and up.

When his fingers reached the crest of your thighs, the touch melted you. It was as if his fingers were asking permission to continue traveling lower.

You opened your legs, pressing him against yours to make room for his hand. The sensation of his fingers pressing against your core through your pants made you let out a moan that met his lips.

“I know. And I want you to know I didn’t do it for fun.” He whispered against your lips from above. “But I’ve never hypnotized you before, okay? What happened at the resort was real. Everything I said was true.” His voice sounded like a prayer against your mouth. But you couldn’t be weak now, no matter how much your whole body wanted to.

“I know that too,” you admitted. You already knew that, after all.

The distance between you finally closed. The sensation of his lips was the same as this morning, if anything, a little more… electric. It was hard to keep up with your head tilted back, and Tenna took advantage of that to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You stifled a gasp as his fingers rubbed against your core, prompting you to lift your hips and press your ass against him. The hand that had been playing with your breasts was now lifting your shirt.

“Wait, Tenna.” You stopped him and noticed a disappointed sigh escape his throat as you pulled away from his mouth. You used the space to turn in his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist and resting your hands against his chest. His erection was now pressing firmly against your lower stomach and clitoris. It was becoming harder and harder to cling to any remaining shred of rationality.

As if sensing your internal debate, Tenna leaned over you, pressing your hips against him. “Can’t we?” he asked. Almost innocently.

You were losing the battle.

“If I let you do whatever you want now, how are you going to learn that what you did made me angry?” Despite the scolding, there was too much affection behind it. Damn it. The plan was working on you, too. But you had to be stronger. Did Tenna know how much your feelings changed every time you were with him?

You didn't have to tell yourself; you already knew you liked him. Not just as a sexual partner, but as something more. But you couldn't name it now, not yet, at least.

“It's time to go.” You sighed against his mouth, your voice a much softer whisper.

Tenna let out a protest grunt, pressing his hips against you. “No. Not now.” The pressure of his member against your center was delicious. “I want to finish what we started this morning.”

“And why should I allow you?” you asked, placing your hands against his pants. You felt him shiver at your touch.

The words died in his throat as your fingers traveled to his belt buckle, undoing it. The button and zipper followed in a fluid motion that finally revealed his penis to you.

The head peeked out above his boxers, and with your fingertips, you gave it a couple of tentative touches.

Tenna remained motionless before you, completely mesmerized by how you played with him. Pre-cum fluid coated the tip with every caress and every brush of your hands.

The feeling of having him surrender to you was intoxicating.

“Do you want me?” you asked, your tone dangerously sweet.

“You know I do,” he snarled, frustration and need warring in his voice. “I’m dying to feel myself inside you every moment since I woke up.”

“Then earn it.” You leaned in, your lips brushing the edge of your screen as you whispered. “You want to undress me? You want to have me right here on this floor?” You stroke his length once, then twice, your hand barely closing around it.  But the reward came as a soft hitch in his breath.  His fists were clenched on the floor to his sides. You could hear the soft rip of his gloves as his claws ripped through the fabric. “Give me one real answer. Not 'it's not your concern'. Not 'because I said so'. Why is Queen really a threat to me? Give me a piece of the truth, Tenna. A real one. And maybe I'll let you have a piece of me.”

You hovered there, the kindness of your gesture stabbing him as he was denied his part in the deal. He was promised everything he wanted in exchange for the simplest of answers.

But you were far from finished here. Tenna wouldn't give up so easily, so as a parting gift, you crouched over his lap, arching your back to give him the best view you could offer. And using both hands to cup its length, you began to place small, soft kisses on the tip. Giving a teasing suck now and then.

“Darling, please.” His hands rose, trying to reach you, to touch you, to feel you. But he knew that in the end, only you had complete control of the situation. He wouldn't touch you unless you allowed it.

And this time, you were going to show him you knew how much power you held over him.

Your tongue traveled from the base to the tip, giving it one last kiss before you stood up. You gave him your kindest look and smiled before licking your lips contentedly.

Quickly realizing you were going to leave it at that, Tenna leaned toward you.

“Wait! Wait, sweetheart! You're not planning on leaving me like this, are you?!”

Back on your feet, you dusted yourself off and admired your handiwork.

Tenna looked adorable sitting on the floor, legs spread, completely disheveled and powerless. The prominent strain against his trousers was so blatant and aching, you had to give yourself a pat on the back for the extra effort. His screen was a mess of glitching, frustrated colors, his antennae drooping pathetically. The sharp, tactical lines of the harness across his chest now hold his shirt in place desperately.

“You know the deal, Tenna.” You leaned over him, letting him see your cleavage in all its glory. “Don't keep me waiting.” The kiss you gave him on the cheek was just an excuse to get closer. “I want you throbbing inside me too.”

His body lay motionless, still on the floor, staring at the ceiling with the screen off.

It had taken him a long time to calm down after you left, and your words had hit him like a punch to the gut.

It was definitely going to be a very long week.