* i've had a crush on you but you're still my boss and oh my god we're alone

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wilbur x schlatt

(irls. please. don't read. i wrote this for nook miles tickets lmao- prefacing this with the usual: i do not believe that the two in this oneshot are the real people, i merely see them as pawns in an au- then again, i will delete if necessary)

Schlatt tapped his foot against the floor, hands gripping the lip of the plastic table he and his coworkers sat at. Everything would've been normal, hell, it practically was: an employee spoke with a monotone voice about stocks and what would be the most effective way to raise the value of their company, while the others silently took notes in unison. His problem wasn't them, no, it was his boss. When he joined this company, it was merely a way to earn an income, yet here he was, choking on his already cold coffee as his knee was being sneakily grabbed at.

It wasn't a little nudge, moreso Wilbur, his boss, had snuck his hand under the table to grip his knee. As much as he couldn't deny that it felt good, there were two things for certain. One, they were in a work setting, surrounded by his acquaintances. Two, this means the Brit undoubtedly found out about his little crush, and he could either be further encouraging it or out to embarrass him in front of everyone. The latter seemed pretty possible, but gritting his teeth through the sparks flying through his body was growing harder.

Schlatt kept his eyes trained on his associate speaking, nodding along as his brain suddenly began to work. He quickly grabbed at his pen, the stupid thing fumbling out of his grasp the minute he got his hands on it.

"You good, Schlatt?" Wilbur asked smoothly, turning to him. It felt more like a taunt, if anything, but all he could do was swallow thickly and nod.

"Yes, sir," he quickly replied, sending him a lopsided grin as he clicked the pen open, beginning to write on the paper. He was able to write a few useful words down onto his clipboard before he felt Wilbur's hand creep farther up his thigh. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the blatant burning of his cheeks.

'God, that fucking cuck,' he thought, shooting Wilbur a glance. 'Not even paying any mind.'

Schlatt tried to shift his position so Wilbur's hand fell off of him, but it only followed his movements. But he was stronger, or so he convinced himself, the American now moving to sit up taller with more confidence. And, hey- if Wilbur got to have his fun, he could have a little, too. So, even though it was little, he brought out his chin a little farther, flashing his jawline in Wilbur's direction.

Hearing a small grumble, the grip on his thigh only tightened, surprising a quiet squeak from Schlatt. He anxiously looked at Wilbur, the other's eyes reading as 'Don't get cocky. Remember who's really in control.'

"Schlatt? Your views?"

Fuck. It was like being called on in school when not paying attention- he was screwed. In his flustered haze, he just made it worse for himself, exhaling shakily. "U-Uh," he sputtered, looking around at his coworkers, who were all looking rather confused. "Yeah. I agree."

Wilbur outwardly sighed, his hand lingering on him for another moment before straying away, following his figure as he stood. "Well, everyone-" he clasped his hands together- "let's call it a day, shall we? Thank you for attending." Schlatt's face burned with shame, feeling everyone's eyes burn holes into him as he closed his eyes for a moment.

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