Third Person's POV.
By Wednesday afternoon, the "hands-off" agreement between Percy and Gemini wasn't just under pressure; it was hanging by a thread so thin it was practically microscopic.
Gemini had gone to the dimly lit space of floor-to-ceiling shelves packed with vintage blueprints, architectural models, and heavy rolls of rare silk and linen to get something he needed for work. The air here was cool, carrying the comforting scent of aged paper and cedar. It was the one place in the skyscraper where the frantic, high-stakes pulse of the company slowed to a rhythmic hum—and Gemini loved every second of the silence.
Until the heavy oak door at the end of the aisle clicked shut with a definitive, magnetic thud. Gemini didn't even have to look up from the delicate 1920s sketch he was cataloging. He felt it. The very atmosphere in the room shifted—lightning, vibrating with a familiar, predatory charge.
Don't look up. If you don't look up, he's not here, Gemini told himself. He's in a meeting with the Board. He's looking at spreadsheets. He is definitely NOT standing ten feet away looking like a snack in a three-piece suit. Focus, Gemini. Archiving. Professionalism... Oh, who am I kidding? He's standing right there!
"Percy," Gemini called out, his voice a soft, breathy echo against the metal shelves. "The archive is not an approved visitation site for the CEO. There isn't even a coffee machine down here to use as an excuse."
"I'm here on personal business," Percy replied. His voice was no longer the firm tone used in the boardroom; it was low, husky, and dangerously intimate.
He didn't stay by the door. He moved through the shadows with the slow, deliberate pace of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and knew it was already his. He didn't stop until he was standing directly behind Gemini, the heat radiating from his suit a sharp, intoxicating contrast to the chilly room.
Percy didn't touch him—not yet—but he leaned in, his breath ghosting against the sensitive shell of Gemini's ear.
"You've been down here for four hours," Percy murmured, the vibration of his voice rattling Gemini's nerves. "Not hearing from you for four hours feels like an eternity. I don't like it when you're out of sight."
Gemini finally turned around, his back hitting the sturdy metal shelf with a soft clack. "Percy, there are rules. If someone walks in—"
"The door is locked, Bunny," Percy countered smoothly. He slammed his hands onto the shelf on either side of Gemini's head, effectively caging him in. "And the staff looked incredibly busy when I passed the bullpen. No one is coming here anytime soon."
He leaned down, his lips grazing Gemini's jawline in a slow, agonizing trail. The restraint Percy had been forced to wear all morning snapped. Gemini's hands, still clutching that delicate blueprint, instinctively moved to Percy's chest, the paper crinkling as he bunched the fine silk of Percy's tie in his fist.
"You're going to get us caught," Gemini whispered, even as he tilted his head back, exposing the line of his throat. "And I'm going to become 'that intern.' The one who slept his way to the top."
"You aren't 'that intern,'" Percy growled against his skin, his grip tightening on the shelf until the metal groaned. "You're mine. And I'm tired of pretending I don't want to press you against every flat surface in this building."
Just as Percy moved in to claim a proper, soul-searing kiss, the muffled sound of laughter and approaching footsteps drifted from the hallway.
"Wait, I think the catalog keys are in the archive room," a voice—Sarah's voice—called out.
Gemini shoved at Percy's chest, his eyes wide with pure, unadulterated panic. Percy didn't budge for a heartbeat, his gaze dark, dangerous, and utterly rebellious, before he finally stepped back with a long, frustrated exhale. He smoothed his suit jacket with the practiced ease of a world-class liar just as the door handle rattled violently.
"It's locked?" Sarah's voice came again, followed by a confused hum. "That's weird. Maybe Leo has the other set. Let's go check the office."
Gemini stood frozen, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He looked at Percy, who was now calmly checking his Patek Philippe watch as if they hadn't just been seconds away from a scandal.
"I should get back to my meeting," Percy said, his voice reverting to that cool tone. He reached out, tucked a stray lock of hair behind Gemini's ear, and smirked. "Try not to stay down here too long, intern. The shadows are a bit much for someone as bright as you."
He walked to the door, turned the deadbolt silently, and stepped out into the hall without a backward glance.
Gemini slid down the shelf until he was sitting on the floor amidst the blueprints, his head in his hands. Percy was going to be the absolute death of him.
The man used to be so reserved, so cold, so allergic to public displays of affection. But with Gemini? Percy was a beast. He was possessive, clingy, and physically incapable of getting enough of him. Gemini loved it—he really did—but they were in the company and Percy still wanted to do "all the freaky things."
Gemini's face heated up, a deep, tell-tale crimson. Oh, great. Just great. One mention of 'flat surfaces' and he's already hot and bothered. How is he supposed to walk back to his desk like this? How is he going to survive the next four hours of the day?
He leaned his head back against the cold metal, closing his eyes and trying to think of something—anything—unsexy. Like tax codes. Or Genevieve Moore.