Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

At twenty six years old Freed finally grasped freedom from the clutches of his intense family and moved to the big city. 

He was an omega that had lived cradled by tall walls and neatly trimmed bushes, attended a private university and knew only of the velvety touch of his life of luxury. Naturally, Freed was greedy and wanted to know more about the world outside. 

So he got a job as a secretarial administration assistant of a relatively new law firm in the central business district of Magnolia. Immediately on his first day he realised there was so much more to the “real” world than he could ever predict. 

—/—

“Welcome to the firm! There aren’t a lot of us here yet and we actually haven’t managed to hire anyone for your position yet… So really, this is gonna be whatever you make it. You choose how to organise things, tell us what we need to do to make your job easier, and everyone’ll be happy.” The tall auburn-haired man beside Freed explained, waving idly at other people working in their office cubicles as he instructed Freed on his position in the company. 

How does a law firm survive a year and a half  without someone doing admin? And what about their main attorney? No secretary at all? 

This place sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. Luckily, Freed loved nothing more than organising from the ground up. He could get lost in archives and prospective information about anything. 

It didn’t hurt that he was earning a way-above-average wage for this job either. 

“Alright, Freed, this is gonna be your office space. Bathrooms down where we came from and…” The man scoured their surroundings before beckoning Freed closer. “Down that way is where all our lawyers are, our boss is Mr. Conbolt and he’s a nice man… but one of our new hires can be a bit of a hothead. Just don’t worry about him.”

“Thank you for the warning…” Freed looked expectantly at the man, hoping he’d take the hint and tell Freed his name. 

“Oh! Loke, no need to worry about a last name, everyone here knows me.” He winked before clearing his throat and leaving. 

Freed surveyed his cubicle. A dark stained wooden desk with a monitor, mouse and other necessities with space for any decorations Freed could come up with. With a sigh he set his bag down before putting his log in on the computer and pulling out his notebook to start a list on what needed to be done. Just because this would be fun, doesn’t mean it wouldn't still be work. 

—/—

“There he is!” Freed heard a whispered voice from the distance, pausing before focusing back on emailing the company's accountant for everyone’s important information. 

“Excuse me.” Someone said quietly, clearing their throat beside him. Freed took his glasses off before looking up at a short woman with striking brown eyes and neatly tied up blue hair. 

“Yes?” He turned his full body to her to show his attention. 

“I’m Levy, I’m one of the transcriptionist’s and legal writers at the firm. Just wanted to say hello.” She sent Freed a nervous smile before they both stared at each other for a moment. 

She seemed sweet, Freed was warmed by her eagerness to meet him. 

“I’m Freed, admin and secretarial duties.” He sent a smile Levy’s way as well, hoping to calm her nerves slightly. 

“Nice to meet you Freed.” Levy said, sending a bright beam Freed’s way in return. 

“You as well, Miss Levy.” He waved at her as she nodded at him and headed back toward her desk. 

Freed stretched for a moment before checking his watch, just past one thirty. 

Definitely time for lunch. 

He signed out of his account before grabbing his bag and heading towards what Loke called the “poor man's cafeteria”. He smiled politely at anyone he made eye contact with before arriving in the relatively large room with a few tables, a microwave, sink and electric stovetop and ridiculously large fridge before heading to one of the tables and sitting quietly. 

He’d prepared himself a caprese salad and some cut up fruit for lunch so that he could have some energy before finishing off his first day. He briefly pulled out his phone to have a look at his messages while he ate.

12:19

Mother 

How is your first day honey? Is anyone giving you trouble? 

13:43

Me

No! Everyone’s been nice so far 

1:44

Mother 

Oh that’s lovely to hear dear! When will you be coming home to visit? We miss you. 

Despite himself Freed couldn’t help but smile at his mother’s clingy message. A part of him had been terrified his family would leave him behind for wanting to follow his own path in life— they’d been so proud of everything he accomplished. Even if they’d always wanted some alpha son as their heir, they’d embraced Freed with love and affection when he presented as an omega, just like they’d embraced him studying law. To an extent, they wanted him to live his life the way he wanted. 

They just… also wanted to be there to watch over every part of it. Preferably within their estate, and where they could also threaten and bribe whoever Freed was with to make sure he was okay. 

Ridiculously, Freed was tired of being so looked after. He wanted to float on his own for a while. But he did miss them too. More than he’d like to admit. 

1:47

Me

I just arrived Mummy! I’ll come visit before autumn starts.

1:49

Mother 

Your life was ours, which is with you.

Go on your journey. We go too.  <3

Freed smiled to himself before sending a heart back and opening up his Books app. He’d been in the middle of reading a new anthology of poems recommended to him by his mother. 

“That’s a nice smile. Got anyone waiting for you at home?” Said a smooth feminine voic in front of Freed. 

“Me? Oh no, it’s just my mother being herself as always.” He laughed nervously, placing his phone down. In front of him was a curvy woman with neat glasses and long brown hair held back in a claw clip. 

“With a face that handsome I don’t think I can believe you.” She said, pulling out one of the chairs and sitting down. 

“I’m as single as it gets, trust me.” Freed winked at her, taking a quick bite out of his salad right after. 

“Is that so? What’s your name, Mister New, Handsome and Single?” She asked as she whipped out a tupperware with heated up lasagna. 

“Freed, Freed Justine. And yours?” Freed’s nose was blessed by the tempting smell of hot food as she opened her lunchbox.

“Evergreen. But you can call me Eve.. What’s your field?” She took a delicate bite out of her food.

“I’m in admin and secretarial duties, yourself?” Freed felt like he was somehow being interrogated by a sexy reporter. 

“I’m the main accountant here.” Evergreen said, her eyes somehow piercing into the depths of Freed’s soul. 

“Oh hey Eve! Who’s the new guy?” A deep voice interrupted their conversation. Freed looked up to see his first mohawk up close, electric blue with black roots. The man himself seemed to be preternaturally tall with dark eyes and a wide smile. Somehow, he was less intimidating than Evergreen was. 

“This is Freed; Freed, Bickslow, he works in communications and client liaison.” Bickslow waved his hand idly at her introduction. 

“Who cares about all that boring stuff— who hired you?” Bickslow pulled out a chair beside Evergreen, really confirming the vibe that Freed was being interviewed in some way. 

“I think Mr Conbolt did? Loke and Miss Lockser introduced the role to me, though.” Evergreen nodded her head idly, still chewing. 

“Shit, it’s about time. I think those junior lawyers were starting to go crazy without an assistant.” Evergreen sent a sharp look Bickslow’s way. 

“If they’d organised themselves better it would’ve been fine. The company is going to sink any moment now with the amount of employees we have…” Bickslow scoffed at her statement. 

“It’s just the time of year, trust me, we’ll be swimming with more clients than you can handle before the end of the season.” Evergreen huffed in response. 

“Anyway, if you don’t mind me asking— why did you choose this job specifically? Most new graduates prefer large companies.” Bickslow leaned back idly in his chair. 

“Is this an interview? And how did you know I was a recent graduate?” Freed laughed awkwardly as he asked, eating more tomatoes to distract himself from the two sets of pin sharp eyes on him.

“You seem way too intelligent for this position, it reeks of high education with no experience.” Eve said, shrugging her shoulders. 

“You can relax, we’re not interrogating you, just asking some questions.” Bickslow said, smiling sharply. Freed briefly felt a shiver up his spine. To think he thought Bickslow was the friendlier of the two. 

“Can you guys please stop bullying the new guy? This is why no one wants to work here.” Loke’s voice piped up from next to the kettle, wagging his finger in reprimand. 

“Heavy agree. Don’t listen to these guys, greenie, they told me I was too short to reach the typewriter.” Levy piped up, walking over to sit beside Freed. 

She really was short, now that he looked at her a little bit closer.

“Thank you Levy, I’ll keep that in mind.” Levy smiled before peeking over at his lunch. 

“Ooh, that looks nice. I’ve just got a sad little chicken sandwich my partner made. He’s a shit cook but he’s trying.” She laughed a bit before taking a bite. Freed couldn’t help but smile at her statement. 

“Not everyone has a talent for cooking. My father is the same, I think he almost blew up our kitchen once.” Freed decidedly left out the part where their private chef had thrown him out and placed a lifetime ban on his father ever setting foot near the stove again. 

“Reminds me of Bickslow’s cooking. The only recipe he knows is prison gruel.” Evergreen stuck her tongue out in mock disgust. 

“It’s actually very nutritious and great for the brain.” Bickslow huffed. 

Freed’s lunch went by without much fanfare, and he felt a pep in his step as he walked back to his desk with the numbers of his… very lively coworkers on his phone. 

—/—

“See you later Lucy!” Freed called out to the receptionist before walking out of the building and into the parking lot. 

“You got a light?” A deep voice asked from somewhere near the corner. 

Freed almost leapt fifteen feet into the sky. 

“Jesus! Do you just wait in the shadows for someone to come outside?” Freed turned to make eye contact with what must be the most alpha-typical man he’d ever seen. About six foot three or four (it didn’t matter either way, Freed had to crane his neck all the way up to look at him) with messy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and an annoyingly satisfied smirk on his face. 

Was there anyone normal proportion-wise at this company? Levy was tiny, Evergreen was built like an hourglass, Lucy was hard to look in the eyes and Freed remembers Bickslow’s mohawk but not his actual face. 

The job was fine, clearly— the people? 

“Nah I’m just taking a smoke break. Light?” The man held his hand out impatiently. 

Freed sighed, opening up his bag and pulling out his vintage lighter, hoping to god whoever this strange man was wouldn’t turn out to be a thief too. 

“Pretty. Where’d ya get it from?” He asked, flicking it a few times before finally lighting his cigarette. 

“I collect shiny things in my free time.” Freed said, shrugging. 

In reality his father sold intricately engraved lighters as a side hustle, and sent Freed all of the gold and teal ones to review occasionally. 

“Fair ‘nuff. You work here?” He turned his head to blow the smoke in the other direction. 

“I should be asking you that, since you’re hiding away from the front door.” Freed scoffed, placing his hand on his hip to distribute his weight better. 

“Guess what I do for work, and I’ll lend you one of these.” The man waved a cigarette in his hand. 

“I don’t smoke. Try a better prize.” Freed retorted, giving up and placing his bag on the floor and leaning against the wall near Batman of the law firm. 

“You don’t smoke but carry around fancy lighters?” He asked incredulously.

Freed shrugged in response. 

“‘Kay then, how about a fist bump?” Freed almost wanted to laugh. 

“Sure. A fist bump.” He snorted. 

“I wouldn’t laugh, there’s people out there who’d pay for a fist bump from me.” The man rolled his eyes playfully as he said it. 

“Oh I don’t doubt it at all… Consultant?” Freed surveyed what the man was wearing for a moment. A white button up shirt with a loosened black tie, well-fitted black slacks over brown dress shoes and what seemed to be a blazer jacket was folded over his shoulder— also black. 

Definitely someone who needed to dress well for their work, which implied some sort of client involvement or social aspect. 

“Hmm. Close.” He said, taking another puff of his cigarette. 

“Paralegal?” Freed tried, trying to remember who he’d met with what position so far. 

“Do I seem that boring to you?” He scoffed. Freed held an offended hand to his chest. 

“They are not boring. But considering that answer you’re definitely a lawyer.” No one else would find the smaller puzzle pieces that made a court case boring. 

“Bingo! You win… One fist bump.” He winked at Freed before offering his closed fist, “Limited edition prize.” Freed rolled his eyes before gently bumping his fist against alleyway Batman’s.

He couldn’t help but notice just how large his hand was in comparison to his own, thick fingers and calloused skin compared to the well manicured and soft skin of his own. 

“Worst prize ever. Do you even have a name?” Freed sighed sadly as he said it. 

“Laxus Dreyar, junior lawyer.” The man said, breathing out the last of his cig before dropping and stubbing it on the ground. 

“Are all lawyers here as broody as you are?” Freed asked, looking past Laxus into the now slowly setting sun. 

“Nah, that’s my thing. Here.” The man offered Freed a business card, which the greenette took gingerly. 

“What’s this?” He asked, pocketing it anyway. 

“Proof I actually work here. I’ll see you around, Princess.” Laxus waved a hand behind him as he reentered the building, leaving Freed standing outside looking stumped. 

Princess? What kind of nickname was that? 

—/—

After three days of working at Conbolt, Wakaba & Co (CWC for short), Freed realised that everyone there was just plain weird. 

Tuesday morning, Evergreen had walked into his cubicle, remarked that he should never wear pants ‘like that’ to work again if he wanted people to concentrate, and then left without so much as a good morning. 

Wednesday afternoon at lunch, some man named Gray had come into the cafeteria, taken off his shirt, then asked Freed about his goals at the company like Freed was supposed to be paying attention somehow.

Worst of all, Laxus had been lingering outside, somehow still without a lighter each time, waiting for Freed. 

And he always called Freed–

“Hey Princess, got a light?” Freed sighed, pulling out his trusty mint lighter with embroidered silver edges and handed it to Laxus’ waiting hands. 

“Tough day?” He asked, taking a long draw. 

“You could say that. Is everyone usually so…” Freed waved his hand around in front of himself. 

“You want the truth or a really good lie?” Laxus asked, smirking a little. 

“I think that about answers the question, then.” Freed sighed again. 

“If it makes you feel better, everyone really likes you.” Laxus shrugged one shoulder as he said it, turning to the side to blow out his smoke again. 

“Well I’m glad I made a good impression. I feel like I’ve been grilled more times than I can count now.” He idly played with his bangs, watching the clear sky outside. 

“Tends to happen. Look, you do a good job, and we’ll take care of you here. Just the way it is.” Laxus smiled gently down at Freed, and all of a sudden Freed noticed a lot more about him in that moment.

How much younger he looked with that soft expression on his face, the small scar that ran from the end of his eyebrow to the corner of his eye, the smokey yet gentle scent that seemed to surround him, and most importantly, Freed realised he was attracted to him somehow. 

Laxus was reliably ridiculous. Skulking in the shadow of their work building, always having cigarettes but never a lighter, calling Freed Princess then smiling and laughing with him about their weird company. 

There was something about him, Freed didn’t know how to put it in words. 

Like they were bound to be in each other's lives somehow. 

“I look forward to being in your care then.” Freed smiled as he said it. 

The sunset was prettier when he relaxed like this. 

This wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

—/—

“Hey hottie, we’re having a company barbeque on the weekend, you should come.” Lucy popped over to Freed’s desk, placing down paperwork and a small A5 card.

“Oh, I don’t know if I should…” Freed said shyly, peering at the black and white invitation dated for Saturday evening. 

“Trust me! It’ll be fun. Macao makes the best ribs you’ll ever eat.” Lucy sent her most compelling puppy eyes towards Freed. 

Defeated, he picked up the pamphlet before shooing her away. 

“I’ll consider it. Now, I have to finish this spreadsheet.” Lucy twirled away from the cubicle happily.

“Thank you! You won’t regret it!” She called out. 

Freed sighed and shook his head, something told him he would, in fact, regret it. 

After clocking off and heading outside, Freed noticed Laxus waiting patiently in his usual corner.

“So do you always work overtime?” Freed started before he could greet him. 

“I start late, finish late.” Laxus shrugged. 

“Huh. Makes sense. So is this your lunchtime?” Freed asked, quietly pulling out his black and metallic red lighter. 

“No. Not that late, it’s just time for my smoke break.” Laxus nodded in thanks, lighting the end of his cigarette and taking a puff. 

“Do you have more than one in a day?” Freed asked, watching Laxus’ throat bob up and down as he inhaled and exhaled.

“Yeah, sometimes.” Laxus said, Freed watched as his Adam's apple slowly descended before bouncing up again. Up and down hypnotically, catching Freed’s eye. 

“So. How can you have more than one smoke break if you don’t have a lighter?” Freed asked, finally looking up to smirk at Laxus’ slightly pink face. 

“What, are you a reporter? Is it a crime to ask for a lighter?” He avoided Freed’s eyes as he said it. 

“Well, no, but, why mine specifically?” Freed raised a curious eyebrow.

There was a pregnant pause.

“You caught me, I just wanted an excuse to talk to the newbie. And your lighters are fucking cool.” Laxus shrugged nonchalantly, but Freed couldn’t help but notice the light embarrassed pink of his cheeks. 

“Thanks.. But if you want to talk to me, why not just ask for my number?” Freed felt his own cheeks warm at the thought of being able to message Laxus everyday. What would they talk about? Was Laxus the type to use emojis? Probably not. 

“Nah. Where’s the fun in that? You’ll get it soon.” Laxus took a long drag and blew it away from Freed’s face before smiling gently at him. 

Freed could get fatally addicted to his soft smiles, the ones that crinkled his eyes a little bit, made him look tough but sweet— like someone who’d handle Freed with care somehow. 

“I don’t get what you mean.” Freed said, pouting slightly. 

“Don’t have to, Princess. See you on Saturday, yeah?” Laxus stubbed his cigarette before waving at Freed behind him. 

“See ya.” Freed responded. 

It took a moment too long for Freed to notice he’d never mentioned going to the barbeque on the weekend. 

Ugh. The nerve of these people.

—/—

“Oh darling, you look lovely with that shirt!” Freed’s mother exclaimed from his laptop. 

“Are you sure Mummy? I just can’t decide between cotton or linen.” Freed whined, twirling every which way in his mirror. 

“Cotton dear, linen is all the rage nowadays but it’s too cheap! Wealth whispers, my love, and cotton will murmur for you.” 

Freed’s mother loved words more than the average person. 

She had studied literature in university before moving onto a masters in poetry and a pHD in Love & Poetics. Freed had grown up hearing grand tales of romance and lullabies with triple meanings– it always appeared obnoxious or over the top to others, but Freed was calmed more by her whimsical voice and sentences than anything else. 

“You’re right. So viridian cotton? Should I wear jeans?” Freed pouted, trying to mentally go through the options in his closet. 

“Is that my beautiful son? Marianne, how could you hide him from me!” Freed’s fathers’ voice bellowed through his computer, and before he knew it, his mother’s face was replaced by the kindly and rugged face of his father. 

“Roger, he chose to call me first! Perhaps if you were less of a rat, he’d think to speak to you—” The screen shook as Freed was sure his parents were fighting over his mothers’ laptop. 

He couldn’t help but smile. He’d missed his ridiculous parents this week, he’d never been without them for this long, always managing to tag along on business trips or them finding a way to come home early when he couldn’t. 

“Mummy! Dad! You can both stay on the call.” Freed sighed dramatically, “If only someone could help me decide on my outfit however…” His parents were seated and in frame instantly. 

“Of course son, let’s take a look. Ah yes, is that poplin? It’ll do well in the summer breeze, and I quite like that shade of green, it really suits your eyes.” His dad hummed, before turning to his wife. “What hair, love?” They both turned to squint at Freed through the camera. 

“Freed, shall we go more casual or formal?” His mother asked, squinting carefully at him.

“I think it's more casual, mummy.” Freed sat down on his vanity chair, preparing to carefully listen to his mother’s instructions. 

—/—

Freed was half an hour late to the barbecue. 

By choice, of course, he’d never been late in all his twenty six years of life by accident. Internet etiquette had informed him that arriving to a barbeque on time was social suicide, and that he should also bring something small and unimposing for the table. 

After a moment of deliberation, Freed had chosen a moist sponge cake he used to make often, blended with pistachio, vanilla and hints of cardamom for flavour. He’d also made an allergen card for it in the case anyone couldn’t consume nuts or any other ingredients. 

His parents had also helped him with his outfit, deciding on a white cotton shirt with two buttons undone, small silver sleeper earrings in his ears, light blush on his cheeks and his hair in a high ponytail with loose bangs. They’d made him try on millions of pairs of jeans before deciding on a simple dark denim blend and leather tennis shoes.

Freed was hoping with all of his heart he’d prepared well as he finally arrived at the front door of the address listed, ringing on the doorbell. 

“Who is i—” A brown haired woman similar height to Freed opened the door as she spoke before her mouth shut in total surprise. 

“Uh, is this Mr Conbolt’s house?” Freed asked, smiling awkwardly at her. 

“God, who cares about him, I’ll take you somewhere a lot more fun than this bab—” A well manicured hand slammed over her mouth before she could finish. 

“Freed! So glad you could make it. Please ignore Cana here, she's had too much to drink.” Evergreen’s voice piped up. It took Freed a moment to locate her just behind Cana’s taller frame.

“Oh it’s no problem, I hope I’m not too late.” He smiled sheepishly and entered once Cana and Eve stepped away from the doorframe. 

“Not at all! You’re just in time.” Evergreen said, pushing Cana to walk in front of the two of them as Freed surveyed the house. Dark wooden panels on the floor and family pictures littered the walls. Finally they stepped outside to an almost full backyard. 

“Is there anywhere I could put this?” He turned and asked Cana. 

“Oh don’t worry about that, I'll take it with me.” She responded, happily snatching the dish and waltzing away into the crowd. 

“Okay. So,” He turned to find Evergreen disappearing into the crowd on her own. 

Sometimes Freed hated these people. 

“Freed! Glad you could make it.” Levy’s chipper voice called out from a corner of the yard. Freed happily made his way over there, smiling politely at people on the way there. 

“Levy, it’s good to see you.” Levy was in a long orange dress with halter straps and a white flower bow on the back, it suited her so immensely that Freed almost wanted to coo at her. 

“You too! You look great, this shirt really suits you.” She said sweetly, Freed felt himself smiling proudly at the confirmation that his outfit panic had been a success. 

“Thank you, your dress is so beautiful. I almost want one for myself.” Freed complemented. 

“If you really want I could show you the brand I got it from! It's European I think? I got lucky and found it at an op shop for thirty dollars.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. 

“Oh I couldn’t, orange just doesn’t look as good on me as it does you.” Freed consoled. 

“If you say so…” Levy said before beckoning Freed closer. 

“Anyway, these are some people I want you to meet! Everyone, Freed Justine, our new recruit.” Everyone nodded at Freed in greeting. 

“Nice to meet you all.” Freed smiled in what he hoped was a friendly way. 

“Oh right. So this is Jet, he works in IT, this is Droy, IT as well. You already know Lucy, this is Juvia, transcriptionist and paralegal and at the end there is Erza, she’s one of our superstars.” Jet and Droy seemed somewhat stony in demeanour, only nodding stiffly at Freed in greeting. Juvia sent her usual small smile, Lucy seemed overjoyed to see him and Erza seemed pleasant enough. 

“Nice to meet you all.” Freed said, moving to shake Erza’s hand. 

“The pleasure is ours, I hope you’ll prove to be an important part of our company.” Erza said, shaking Freed’s hand twice firmly.

Freed nodded in agreement. 

“I can only try.” Freed responded. 

“Ugh! Enough with the work talk. So Freed, do you drive?” Lucy asked, taking a sip from the cherry drink in her hand. 

“I do have my licence but I haven’t purchased a car yet.” Freed responded. 

“Ah understandable. I’ve been driving a shit mazda for the past two years, so we’re really in the same boat here.” Lucy said, nudging Erza at the mention of a shit car. “Tell them the story.” 

Erza sighed, beginning a story about Lucy, a blown out tire, and a rainy Sunday. 

By the time Erza was finished, a few people had come and left. 

“—after that I told her I wouldn't get in that death trap again.” Erza shivered in fear for good measure, making a few chuckles sprinkle through the group. 

“Doesn’t Natsu do most of the driving nowadays anyway? Lucy should really sell that car for parts by now.” Loke piped up from beside Freed, sending a playful wink his way in greeting, Freed smiled in return. 

“Nah, Lucy hates my truck, says it ruins her ‘aesthetic’ or something.” The man Freed assumed was Natsu piped up. He had salmon pink hair and friendly brown eyes, he’d seemed to appear out of nowhere once Erza started up the part of the story where Lucy had managed to get stuck on the side of the road. 

“Have you asked if her aesthetic is more important than dying?” Evergreen’s familiar voice piped up. 

“Ask me yourself Eviegreens.” Lucy butted in, returning with another cherry drink. Freed realised he’d been standing very empty handed this entire time, and took a moment to survey the backyard to see if he could find a cooler anywhere. 

“Need a drink?” A voice whispered in his ear. Freed couldn’t help the light jump he made in shock. 

Laxus laughed at his reaction. 

“Sorry to interrupt folks, but it looks like poor Princess here has been dying of thirst. We’ll be back in a second.” Before Freed knew it, a rough hand was dragging him from the circle to walk beside Laxus’ hulking figure. 

“Thank you, I feel like I’ve just been absorbing everything since I got here.” He sighed tiredly. 

“Yeah it gets like that, someone shoulda gotten you something to sip once you got here though. Cana’s a shit host.” He led them next to the snacks table before opening a large cooler box. 

“Oh I thought it was just because she was drunk that she might have forgotten or something.” Freed said, surveying the options before choosing a sparkling mint and raspberry can. 

“Drunk? Nah she just couldn’t be bothered.” Laxus said, grabbing a beer from the other cooler box.

“Is that so, why don’t you host a barbeque then?” Freed asked, cracking open his can to lean against the table as he waited for Laxus to answer. 

“Because I’m a shittier host than she is.” Laxus scoffed, taking a quick sip of his drink. 

“At least you’re honest. Cheers.” They tapped their drinks together before basking in a comfortable silence. 

“Well, I’ll let you get back to the vultures. You look good today Princess, I’ll see you around.” Laxus winked as he said it before he walked to another group in a circle. 

Freed was about to head back towards Lucy and the gang until he was intercepted by Bickslow. 

“Glad you could make it.” He said, placing a suspicious arm around Freed. 

“...Thanks.” Freed said, subtly shrugging Bickslow’s arm off of his shoulder. 

“No problem. There’s just a couple ‘o people I want you to meet. Nothing too big.” Alarms were raised in Freed’s mind immediately. 

He sighed and accepted his fate. 

How bad could it be? 

—/—

Bickslow deserved to be placed in the nineteenth circle of hell, where he would be tortured for eternity and reincarnated into a prisoner of death should he somehow die again in hell. 

He’d led Freed to a man called ‘Mystogan’ who had pretty much asked for Freed’s life story before going into a tirade about his own. 

By the time everyone had been called in for food, Freed had managed to get a plate, sit down, and end up between ‘Mystogan’ and Erza. 

Who immediately started fighting. 

“Freed, do you really want to be sitting next to a liar and a cheat?” Erza asked, stabbing her fork into her food before taking a harsh bite. 

“I think he’s quite comfortable here, I wouldn’t trust that woman around sharp objects though Freed, that’s how I got my scar.” Mystogan responded before chewing tersely on a piece of lettuce (he was currently vegetarian). 

“I’m quite alright guys…” Freed mumbled, sadly stuffing his face with some pasta salad. 

Across from him Levy and a tall man with incredibly long black hair both winced at him with twin expressions of pity. 

It looked like there was no escaping this. 

“Oh I’m sure. Don’t worry Freed, I’ll make sure she keeps her hands off of you.” Mystogan said, placing a mock consoling hand on Freed’s shoulder. 

“Freed, trust me, you won’t want him touching you, who knows where those hands of his have been…” Erza made a disgusted face as she said it, staring pointedly at Mystogan’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Erza, you know that’s not fair. I didn’t touch her—” Mystogan started, taking his hand off of Freed’s shoulder to gesture wildly at his plate. 

Erza slammed her hand on the table. “Bullshit, Jellal. Just like all the fucking lies you always tell.” Erza’s voice almost broke as she spoke. 

“I never lied to you- you need to believe that.” Jellal (Mystogan?) responded, standing up from his spot. 

“I can’t believe anything you say. Maybe if you told the fucking truth I wouldn’t be so confused all the damn time—” Erza stood as well, her eyes getting teary. 

“Baby please. We can work this out, I just— I can’t lose you again.” Jellal (Mystogan??) said, walking to Erza and gently cupping her face. 

Erza slapped Jellal in the face, the sound of the impact ringing through the suddenly silent backyard. Freed felt his jaw almost drop from the shock of it. 

“Then just pretend I’m dead instead.” Erza almost whispered it before picking up her bag and hurriedly leaving through the house. 

The yard was silent for what felt like decades before Juvia leapt up and headed towards where Erza exited, a white haired woman in a long ruffled blue dress hurrying after both of them. 

Freed sat down, still somehow in shock. 

“What the hell just happened?” He turned to Levy then the man next to her, who he noticed upon further inspection had several facial piercings. 

“Uh, well. Erza and Jellal divorced about a year ago and they’ve been arguing every time they’re in the same room since. Sorry you had to see that.” Levy sheepishly said, taking a bite out of her steak. 

“Nah better he see it now than later. They’re our best lawyers, but they can’t really get their own lives in check, ya dig?” The man added, picking up his fork and knife to idly cut Levy’s steak into smaller pieces. 

Now that Freed thought about it, the two of them were glued together in their seats, Levy leaning gently against Gajeel’s arm as he cut her food for her. 

“I guess so. Everyone always has something going on behind the scenes I guess.” Freed sighed, eating more pasta salad. 

“Not really. Levy n’I been going steady five years, never had a fight half that bad.” The man shrugged, “Guess we’re just lucky aye, babe?” Levy nodded, smiling sweetly up at him. 

“Yeah, we are.” She said, still looking up into her boyfriend’s(?) eyes.

Freed immediately rescinded any statements in his mind about them being the only normal people at this company. They were clearly… still in the honeymoon phase, and he felt like he was intruding deeply by watching them from across the table like this. In a moment of desperation he turned and caught Gray’s eye, immediately sliding over to talk to him. 

Freed regretted it the moment he noticed said man was shirtless… again. 

He almost wanted to groan in frustration. 

“Yeah just ignore those two, they seem fine on their own but they’re mushy as fuck.” He made a ‘bleh’ motion with his finger and mouth. Freed nodded absently, fighting to keep his eyes on Gray’s face instead of his shoulder tattoo and nice pecs. 

“Well I’m glad at least one couple out there is happy.” Freed said, laughing nervously. 

“Dating is a lot easier when you don’t overthink things.” Gray shrugged as he said it before taking a sip of his drink. 

“Gray! Tell Natsu it’s my turn to drive tonight.” Lucy came up to them, red faced with annoyance. 

“Hell no! You almost killed us last time, I thought I heard my grandmother calling to me.” Natsu came over, leaning his head on top of Gray’s. 

“Hmm. Who drove last time?” Gray asked. 

“Well I did but-” 

“That crazy woman argued about this last barbecue I swear—” They both started at the same time. 

“So Lucy, you drove last time, then it’s whose turn?” Gray said in a patient voice. 

“Yours?” Lucy asked meekly. 

“That’s right, good girl.” Freed felt his soul exit through his body and land on the grassy floor. What was he listening in on right now? 

“Thank you…” She mumbled, turning red. 

Was this—? Were Lucy and Gray together? Freed had thought maybe her and Natsu were. 

“Do I get something too? I was right wasn’t I?” Natsu spoke in a mushy voice, pouting. 

Gray hummed. “Good boys don’t ask for treats, Natsu.” Freed has heard enough. 

“Okay! Nice seeing you all, bye.” He squeaked out, pushing his plate away before scrambling towards Evergreen and what looked to be three white haired people. 

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked a girl with big blue eyes and medium length white hair in a white skirt and indigo tank top. 

“Of course not, have a seat.” She scooched slightly to give Freed more space. Freed sat down and smiled gratefully at her. 

“Oh! You must be the new guy at our company, I’m Mirajane.” The woman with white hair and the blue ruffled dress introduced herself, she looked very similar to the girl Freed was sitting next to. Siblings maybe? 

“Nice to meet you Mirajane.” Freed said, nodding at her. 

“Likewise! These are my siblings Elfman and Lisanna.” She pointed at them respectively. 

Freed nodded at Lisanna, who smiled kindly, then Elfman, who looked an unfortunate mixture of awkward and stressed at the same time.

“Have you been having a good evening so far?” Freed asked no one in particular, taking a bite out of his now cold ribs. God this night was getting worse and worse. 

“You could say that…” Mirajane said, a strained smile on her face as she faced Elfman and Evergreen sat across from her. 

“Oh, okay.” Freed said, chewing slowly. 

“Freed, if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?” Mirajane asked, that same strained smile on her face. 

“Oh I’m twenty six.” Freed responded. 

“Wonderful! A normal, well adjusted age to date my brother, don’t you think?” Mirajane looked directly into Evergreen’s eyes as she said it. Freed felt lost in the unknown context of the conversation immediately. 

“Oh well, maybe?” Freed responded, staring down at his plate intensely. 

“Of course it would be better if you were an omega. You’re an omega, right? A young, normal omega.” Mirajane enunciated. 

“I don’t feel comfortable sharing my designation. It was nice meeting you all!” Freed hurriedly grabbed his plate before walking briskly to the first bin he found, throwing the rest of his plate and taking a moment to survey around him. 

Cana was now also shirtless, and braless to boot. He was pretty sure Gajeel’s hand was somewhere it shouldn’t be under the table, Elfman and Mirajane were arguing, Gray had no pants on, Droy and Jet seemed to be sobbing in a corner? Natsu was standing in a naughty corner and Freed could not stand this barbecue anymore. 

He sighed, pulling out his phone to hail an uber. 

Before exiting the yard, he made the split second decision to rescue his cake. 

These people did not deserve his culinary excellence. 

With that, he marched out of the backyard unannounced and walked up to his pick up point a good hundred metres away to make sure no one could follow. 

What a disaster of a barbecue. His coworkers were weird people, who clearly didn’t care about their surroundings (ie. poor Freed witnessing this all in real time). 

The only upside he could really think of was the way Laxus had given him a moment to breathe in it all. 

Freed really must have been losing his mind if the most rational person he’d run into so far was a guy who hid in shadowy corners asking for lighters and refusing to text like a normal person. 

What a weird life he was living after all.

—/—

Chapter Text

The Monday after the barbecue was excruciatingly awkward. 

“Morning Lucy!” Freed greeted her at the desk as he usually did, scanning his company card before looking up once the silence in the lobby seemed especially thick. 

Lucy’s face could only be described as thoroughly chastised, her hands placed carefully in front of her as though she was being broadcasted to the news at that present moment. 

“Freed. I’m so glad you came back.” She said, sending a pained smile his way. 

“Well… of course, I do enjoy working here so far.” Freed said, feeling nervous at the atmosphere. 

“Right. And we’d understand if that changed for any reason. Really.” Lucy enunciated, her eyes seeming to communicate something insistent to him. 

“Okay? I’ll keep that in mind.” Freed responded, he turned back to check on Lucy one more time before entering the elevator and heading to his floor. 

On the way up Freed considered what could have happened between his abrupt exit on Saturday and the usual hour of eight am this morning that would cause her to seem both apologetic and like she was somehow begging Freed to reprimand her in some way. Had he given her the impression that he was upset in some way? He couldn’t imagine he had. 

Once he entered his floor, he immediately could tell something was off. The office was dead silent, none of the usual whispers or murmurs of “good morning”’s he usually heard when he started his day, Freed felt the nervousness in his gut turn into outright anxiety, his heart beating faster and faster as he finally approached his desk. 

8:07 

Mother 

How is your morning today love? 

8:11

Me

I think somethings going on at the office today

8:12

Mother 

Oh dear. Something bad or good? 

8:12

Me 

Bad. Definitely bad

8:14

Mother 

Don’t let anyone push you around dear, we’ll be more than happy to help you find a better job elsewhere at any moment. 

8:14

Me 

Of course. I love you mother. 

8:15

Mother 

I love you more my sweet pea 

Freed turned off his phone, sighing in frustration before finally booting up his computer and trying to ignore the weirdness around him to get some work done. 

Freed had about an hour of uninterrupted scheduling and setting up a shared calendar for both him and his lawyers before two knocks against his cubicle caught his attention. 

He popped his head up to look at who could be none other than Macao Conbolt with a grim look on his face. 

“Good morning, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?” Freed asked politely, turning his entire body in his direction to show his attention. 

“Mr Justine, I’m sorry to interrupt your work, but could you please follow me to one of our conference rooms?” He asked simply. 

Freed’s eyebrows rose immediately in concern. 

“Oh of course, let me just quickly log out.” Mr Conbolt shook his head. 

“That won’t be necessary, please follow me.” He insisted. 

Freed nodded quickly before standing up. 

Mr Conbolt led him to a quiet room with a long table, chairs and a projector, the walls made out of glass. 

He gestured to Freed to sit down before closing the door behind them and clearing his throat. 

“I was informed that you attended this weekend's company barbecue?” He started. 

“Yes, I did.” Freed responded. 

“Of course. Mr Justine, I know it has only been a short amount of time here at our company, but you have already made great strides in improving the organisation here as well as scheduling work for our lawyers. It would be a shame for any behaviour from members here to drive you away from reaching your full potential.” He looked solemn as he spoke, as though Freed had already resigned just as he had arrived at Freed's cubicle. 

“Of course,” Freed responded after a long moment of silence. 

“Right. Which is why as the head of this company, and the original organiser for this event, I owe you an apology for the events that transpired there.” Freed furrowed his brows, slightly confused by the statement.

Well, to be fair. His night at the barbecue proved mostly to be half an event where he got to meet more of his colleagues and their family members and half a disaster of a night in which he’d been involved in too many personal conflicts, asked inappropriate and deeply personal questions and sexually harassed through unconscious involvement in BDSM play. 

All of which really could only be owed to the individuals themselves, but certainly not Mr Conbolt in any way shape or form. 

“Well I’m sure none of it was your fault, sir.” Freed tried to reassure him, Mr Conbolt solemnly shook his head. 

“You may believe so, but it was my responsibility to make sure you were comfortable in such a different work environment, and that nothing below the belt was occurring. So as company head, I apologise. Should anyone behave inappropriately towards you, please let me or Miss Lockser know and we will look into it immediately.” He sounded incredibly apologetic and frustrated, and left with no other choice, Freed could only nod. 

“Of course, thank you for your support sir.” Freed responded, standing up from his chair. 

“Oh before you go, I was hoping we could schedule a meeting between you and anyone you believe should attend to discuss any changes you want to make to the administration of the business, would that be possible some time this week or next week?” He asked, pulling out a notebook from possible thin air. 

“I think I should be able to organise my plans by this Thursday, if everyone has the time.” Freed said, already making a mental note in his mind. 

“You’ll have to send invitations by email but otherwise me and Miss Lockser should be free.” 

“Okay, I’ll make a note of it.” Freed said, heading towards the door. 

“Thank you, Freed.” Mr Conbolt said it with much more emotion than Freed thought was warranted but he nodded at him nonetheless before returning to his desk. 

Perhaps the tension was due to Mr Conbolt’s displeasure with the work event? It made sense in a way, but the silence still unsettled him. 

When Freed returned back to his desk he found a large gift basket and big card with the words “We’re Sorry” written in big bold letters, many of his coworkers’ names signed in bright colours, small frowny faces or broken hearts scribbled in places on the card. 

Freed smiled to himself before sitting down, setting the card on the undecorated corner of his desk and the basket on the floor next to his chair. He could feel eyes on himself as he booted up his computer, but pretended to be focused on his work. 

What could only be minutes later, hesitant footsteps approached his cubicle.

A throat cleared behind Freed. 

“Mr Justine, I see you’ve received a personal gift from the office.” She said, her voice both amused and serious at the same time. Freed turned to smile calmly at her. 

“Yes, quite a beautiful card.” He said, sharing a cheeky smile with Juvia. 

“Indeed. Do you accept the contents of it?” She asked, her eyes briefly peeking at her peripheral vision before returning to Freed’s face. 

“I think I do… I accept the apology.” Freed said louder, grinning back at Juvia when the stiff silent office was once again filled with chatter. 

“Thank you, Mr Justine.” Juvia bowed slightly and smiled at Freed before leaving. 

“Oh, Juvia-” Freed called out to her before she could walk too far, “It’s just Freed.” She smiled brightly at him. 

“Thank you Freed, please enjoy your day.” Freed nodded, mouthing a ‘you too’ before turning back to his computer. 

Freed was happy to forgive (he would not be forgetting, even if he suffered a bout of amnesia) and move on in order for everyone to feel comfortable again, but there was an itch on the back of his neck that ached to unveil all the mystery relationships he’d been exposed to at the barbecue. Who was Cana? And why were Erza and Jellal still fighting at least a year after finalising their divorce? Why did Mirajane hate Eve? And why could Gray never keep clothes on to save his life? 

All left unanswered, but left with the option of either becoming a gossip or bringing back terrible memories, Freed decided to leave it. He’d observe silently- of course whilst he was hurriedly preparing his meeting with Mr Conbolt about proper administration. 

Time flew by as Freed prepared a powerpoint presentation for his meeting, organising his slides by importance and who it would need to be addressed to (considering busier colleagues may not stay the entire presentation, he tried to keep their segments closer to the beginning) and how to set up an email chain by office group for later. 

Before he knew it, he’d missed his lunch hour, four messages from his mother and one message from Evergreen, the sun setting just outside the office. 

Freed sighed, checking his phone to see 17:43 displayed on the time, the latest he’d ever worked to date. He quickly responded to his mother’s inquiries on his day and a photo of Freed’s favourite Mare, Prairie, before packing up his desk and making sure everything was saved properly. 

Goodness knows what Freed would do if he lost almost thirty gigabytes of hard work in one evening. 

He unbuttoned the top of his dress shirt as he exited the office, Lucy absent from her usual spot at the desk on the ground floor. 

Freed had never really seen the office this late. It felt more foreboding somehow, Lucy’s usual smile and chatter absent from the lobby, lines of empty cubicles and chairs on Freed’s floor, the sun casting a warm but lonely glow in the almost empty parking lot… Freed would see if he could work from home in the future. 

Something was eerie about a place as lively as MW-Co being so quiet. 

“There you are, Princess.”

“Fuck! What are you doing there?” Freed squeaked, spooked. 

“What I always do, of course.” Laxus responded, lit cigarette held between his fingers on his left hand. He was wearing a purple dress shirt with open buttons today, black slacks and black shoes on his feet. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the low light made him look both more threatening and more handsome somehow; Freed suddenly felt conscious of his own unbuttoned white shirt and pinstripe slacks. 

“Creepily standing in the shadows?” Freed filled in, his hand fiddling with his bangs. 

“Nope, smoke break.” Laxus said, his eyes gently taking in Freed’s appearance. 

“Right.” Freed said, tucking a hair behind his ear before picking out another part to twirl around. 

“Actually, you had something to eat today, Princess? Whole cafeteria was on standby waiting for you today.” Laxus’ tone was nonchalant but the perceptive glint of his eyes gave away the prying nature of his question. 

“No, I had a lot of work to do today.” Freed sighed, looking from Laxus’ face to his fingers cradling the cigarette again. He made it look so natural. 

“That’s a shame. So what do you like?” Laxus took another drag, Freed watching as his hand lifted to his face before dropping once more, index finger flicking lightly to get rid of the residual ash on the end of his cigarette. 

“What do you mean?” Freed settled his work bag down, leaning his shoulder against the wall beside him. 

“Food. What food do you like.” Laxus elaborated. 

“Er, I enjoy pastries and Mediterranean dishes.” Freed said, thinking about the apple danish he’d packed in his own lunch today, still hidden inside his lunchbox. 

“You got any plans for the night?” Laxus asks, his casual tone negated by the intensity of his stare as he waits for Freed’s answer. 

“Well, not really.” Freed thinks he might have been planning to call his mother and father, but he called them every day so it wasn’t necessarily a plan, more a compulsion. 

“Cool. Meet me at the park down the road in twenty.” Laxus says. 

Before Freed can respond Laxus has already stumped out his cigarette and re-entered the office, leaving Freed flustered at the idea of whether this was just a meeting between coworkers or something… more. 

—/—

Twenty minutes later Freed is at the park, his hair taken down from the restriction of his work high-ponytail, and his shirt sleeves rolled up to enjoy the warm summer air outside. 

The park is lively for a Monday, families out enjoying the playground, the smell of food from the two neighbourhood food-trucks parked in the parking lot and the last essence of summer casting a warm glow around the green grass and impending sunset. Freed sits down on a bench near the food trucks, scrolling through his pinterest for inspiration for his apartment. It'd been about three weeks now and he only had the bare essentials his mother had all but thrown at him. 

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Laxus' voice says, Freed looking up to see him standing beside the park bench he was sitting on. It was truly a mystery how a man as large as Laxus could sneak around Freed undetected every time. 

“What?” Freed said, not really hearing his earlier statement. 

“Don’t worry about it. Did you wait long?” Laxus asked, briefly checking what was definitely a pricey watch. 

Now that Freed noticed, his overall appearance today had been almost perfect. The thread count on his shirt spoke for itself, the rich tone of its purple another conversation on its own— not to mention Laxus’ shoes.

“No, I didn’t.” Freed said, putting his phone away, 

“Good. Let’s take a look at the food trucks.” Laxus says, offering his hand to help Freed stand from the bench. 

Freed gently placed his hand in Laxus’ palm, feeling the heat of it seep into the very crevices of his own. Freed could feel every callus and ridge on Laxus’ hand, he felt as the blonde gripped Freed a little tighter as he stood up, and how his thumb had lightly brushed the back of Freed’s knuckles before letting go of him- Freed felt it all as his heart began to beat out of his chest, the intimacy of something as simple as light physical touch was remarkable, could Laxus tell that Freed tried to savour every moment of their hands touching? Could he tell that Freed sometimes felt nervous around him?

Freed hoped not. 

He followed Laxus to a pink truck decorated with yellow and blue swirls with the name ‘Marion on Wheel’s’ printed on the front of it. 

“This is your typical burger joint, but they got good milkshakes too.” Laxus says, nodding in acknowledgement at the older lady in the front watching them.

They then walked to the opposite truck, green with red and black spots, ‘Friday’s First’ printed in bold letters on the front of it. The sales assistant was a short girl with long blue hair and a pink tank top with ‘The Sweetest’ printed on her nametag.

“This place has more street food, hot dogs, pies, the like.” Laxus nodded at the assistant who beamed at the pair of them. 

“So, anything you prefer?” Laxus asked, already pulling out his wallet. 

“Uh, have you had the food here before?” Freed asks, pulling his own wallet out as well. 

“Yeah every now and then when I’m having a late night in the office.” Laxus shrugged. 

“It must get lonely working at this time.” Freed hummed, already recalling the countless empty cubicles and chairs that were usually filled with his rowdy and sociable coworkers. 

“Not really, I prefer it this way.” Laxus said, shrugging. 

Still, a part of Freed’s heart hated the idea of being the only bee working inside the hive— he liked to think everyone worked as one when they were in the office together, every puzzle piece being passed desk to desk as they became one under the roof of Macao and Co. 

Of course it wasn’t actually that way, but Freed couldn’t help but think of it like that anyway. 

“Let’s get burgers and milkshakes.” Freed says, smiling at ‘The Sweetest’ before steering himself and Laxus to the truck across. 

“Of course, your majesty.” Laxus tone was teasing but he followed behind Freed obediently, his arm held straight where Freed had grabbed him by the forearm.

They both looked over the menu for a moment, Freed deciding on a simple cheeseburger with added tomato relish and a strawberry milkshake. Laxus got ‘the godfather’ which just sounded like it was the kind of burger to look too intimidating to eat- and also a banana milkshake and fries. 

The lady at the front let them know it’d be about fifteen minutes and they went back to the bench. 

“So, what kept you so busy today?” Laxus asked, sitting on the other side of the bench. 

“I have to make a presentation to show everyone my administration software.” Freed said, his fingers idly tapping on the table. Laxus looked so relaxed outside of work, the harsh strands of his hair drooping under their own weight as the gel subsided, his eyes crinkling by the sides with his minute expressions; Freed had never wondered what it would be like to see his other coworkers out of work, Monday to Friday felt like enough on its own, but now he wondered if Levy would take her headband off at home, or if Bickslow’s mohawk would flop after he took the gel out. 

Friendship from the ground up like this really gave him a new perspective on everything. 

“Wow, bringing out the big guns. I think I’ll be there to see it with everyone else.” Laxus says. His right hand is laid flat on the table, showing off an impressive silver ring on his middle finger, and gold on his ring finger. 

“Really? I don’t recall seeing your name.” Freed hummed, quietly wondering if Laxus’ ring would fit on his hands… or if he was just that big. 

“I’m a lawyer, remember?” Laxus said, a pout on his face. 

“I’m well aware, Mr Laxus.” Freed rolled his eyes. 

“That’s Mister Laxus Dreyar to you.” Laxus crossed his arms for emphasis. 

Oh. 

Freed hadn’t remembered Laxus’ last name, which was likely why he had no idea he’d be sitting in for the presentation. 

“Hmm, I do recall seeing a Dreyar in my presentation, now that you mention it.” Freed said, twirling his hair as he pretended to think about it. “Maybe your cousin?” 

“Ha ha.” Laxus said. 

“Oh, I’ve got it! It must be a stranger with the same name, how peculiar.” Freed said, smiling coyly at Laxus’ unimpressed expression. 

“You talk some big game for a small fish, princess.” Laxus said, his eyebrow raised. 

“This small fish is going to change your game, Mr Dreyar.” Freed said, feeling butterflies enter his stomach when Laxus’ face turned slightly pink at the use of his name. 

“We’ll see about that.” He said, ruffling his hair with his hand after a moment. 

“I think you’ll be quite surprised by me.” Something about seeing Laxus speechless made Freed feel confident enough to brag slightly— he’d worked hard today on his presentation and software, he deserved to brag about it to someone, especially someone he wanted to impress. 

“I already am.” Laxus huffed, turning to look at the truck after hearing their order number finally being called. 

“I’ll help.” Freed said, standing up from the bench to follow Laxus back to the truck.

“Nah, you stay here.” Laxus said, pushing his rolled sleeves further up to show the breadth of his forearms, littered with wispy blond hair. 

Freed watched as his broad back and long legs walked to the truck, graciously taking the tray from the lady in the front before walking back to their table. 

Laxus came back, setting their food down on the table. It smelled heavenly to Freed’s hungry nostrils. 

“I didn’t realise how hungry I was until now.” Freed sheepishly said, picking up his milkshake and the markedly smaller burger on the tray. 

Laxus pushed his fries towards Freed as well. 

“You should eat up, don’t want you becoming skin and bones.” Laxus said. 

Freed pouted. “Missing one meal won’t kill me, and these are your fries.” Freed pushed them to Laxus' side, the tray now moved to the other end of their table. 

“I can order more. Have some.” Laxus said, already unwrapping his burger. 

“I don’t want any. You eat them.” Freed could pretend all he wanted, but in all truthfulness he wanted the fries because Laxus was the one giving them to him. 

There was something irresistible about being taken care of, even in miniscule gestures like arguing over fries. Freed couldn’t help that it was something that made his heart beat, couldn’t help that something like that would always appeal to him on an instinctual level as an omega. 

“If you eat a little bit I’ll eat the rest.” Laxus conceded. 

Freed sighed, grabbing a tiny handful and popping them on a napkin before taking a sip of his milkshake. Pink stars and yellow hearts appeared like fireworks on his tongue, the sweet strawberry of the drink with the perfect creamy balance. 

Laxus smiled at Freed’s expression. 

“How is it?” He took a sip of his own. 

“This is witchcraft.” Freed said, taking another sip of his shake just to make sure it was still as good. 

It was.

“You can just say it’s good, princess.” Freed was too busy taking another sip to respond to Laxus’ snarkiness. 

“This is the best shake I’ve ever tasted.” Freed said, now wondering if his burger or fries would be anywhere near as magical. 

“Something tells me you don’t drink a lot of them in the first place.” While that was undoubtedly true, how would Laxus know that? 

“I’ve had one or two.” Freed said vaguely. 

“Sure doll. Don’t forget to eat your food too.” He said, grabbing a few of his own. 

“I will. But not because you told me to.” 

—/—

Freed ended up eating most of the fries, his entire burger, a bite of Laxus’ own and contemplating a second strawberry milkshake. 

“I’m so full.” The two of them were now sitting on the grass, Laxus laid down with his head on his blazer, and Freed sat criss-crossed. 

“You could’ve had another bite.” Laxus tutted, ever the enabler. 

“No, I can’t even breathe in these pants right now.” Freed gave his stomach a little pat. He felt like he was about to burst. 

“Take ‘em off then.” Laxus said, his voice cracking a little. 

“I’m not going to jail for public nudity.” Though going to jail for anything whilst working as a legal secretary would be hilarious. 

“They’ll serve ya a slap on the wrist at worst.” Laxus said, shifting slightly to look at Freed. 

The night sky was watching over them now, a cool breeze coming along to stifle the warmth around them. 

There was something intimate about this moment, about the moment before this when they were eating across from each other and talking about nothing at all. Something intimate about being introduced to milkshakes in the park next to a man that insisted on calling Freed princess. 

He didn’t want this to end. 

“I’m quite sure they’ll send me on the first bus to the work camp.” Freed said, already imagining himself in a slightly more chic than realistic jumpsuit. 

“A pretty face like yours? The whole country would riot.” Laxus said, Freed felt himself blush at the compliment. 

“You’re just saying that.” He huffed, smiling anyway. 

“You can just accept the compliment, your highness.” Laxus said, a conspiratorial smile on his face. 

“I don’t think I will, actually.” Freed said, now fiddling with his hair. 

“You will eventually.” Laxus said, now sitting up and leaning on his palms. 

“And that’s not cryptic at all.” Freed was about to continue when he felt his phone ring, pulling it out to see his mother’s smiling face on it. “Sorry, I have to take this.” He told Laxus before standing up and walking a couple of steps away. 

“Hello, mummy.” Freed said, trying to ignore what was obviously Laxus’ eyes on him. 

“Freed darling! Where have you been?” She asked, her voice much more shrill than needed.

“I went with a coworker to dinner today, I forgot to tell you.” Freed said, feeling guilty about forgetting to let his parents know he’d miss their daily call. 

“Are you still there now?” She asked, her tone admonishing.

“Yes, we were just about to leave.” Freed said, lying slightly.

“Good. We miss our darling boy and we want to hear all about your day, call us when you get home.” Before Freed could so much as exhale, she had hung up. 

His family and their dramatics. 

Freed shook his head with amusement before heading back to where Laxus was waiting. 

“Everything alright?” He asked, his phone opened on some sort of article in his lap. 

“Yes, just my mother letting me know I should head back home now.” Freed said, slightly embarrassed that he was listening obediently to his mother at this age. 

“I thought you lived alone.” Laxus said. 

“I do, she wants me to get home before it’s too late outside.” Freed sighed. “She worries too much.” 

“That’s sweet. Alright then, I’ll drop you off.” Laxus said, standing up and dusting his slacks. 

“You really don’t have to, I should be fine on my own.” Freed insisted. 

“Nonsense, what kind of citizen would I be if I let a princess walk home alone? What if you get kidnapped?” Laxus teased. 

“That’s highly unlikely.” Freed said, now pouting. 

“You never know.” Laxus said, offering his arm for Freed to grab onto. 

“I think I do, in this case.” He said, gently placing his hand in the crook of Laxus’ arm, his own skin alight with the feeling of Laxus’ lightly furred arm against his own. He was warmer than Freed expected. 

The two of them walked in peaceful silence back to Laxus’ car, the night sky watching over them. 

—/—

Chapter Text

Freed was ashamed to admit that a lovesick grin had floated around him all the way home after he’d finally convinced Laxus to let him enjoy the night breeze and take a stroll. 

He couldn’t help but rethink every little moment, how Laxus would listen intently to him talk, his eyes always looking into Freed’s own or at Freed’s hands as they gesticulated when he spoke, how Laxus kept silently adding more fries to Freed’s napkin when he wasn’t paying attention- how he insisted Freed was attractive, like it was a fact of life rather than wholly subjective. 

Freed had sat under the night sky of the park wondering if there was another universe where he spent his younger years with Laxus, fighting villains and bickering till the cows came home. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, never in a place where his interest in someone outweighed his personal goals in life. 

He’d changed into his silk pyjamas and tied his hair away when his mother finally called. 

“Finally he picks up! Rob, are you aware that your son is a celebrity?” His mum said, her tone passive aggressive but her warm smile still on her face. 

“Well of course, Freed was born for the red carpet.” His dad’s voice came from somewhere inside his parents’ bedroom, the familiar wallpaper showing behind his mother’s head. 

“Thank you papa, how was your evening?” Freed asked, sitting on his bed and leaning against the headboard. 

“Horrid! My son didn’t message me at lunchtime, I was devastated.” His parents were still as dramatic as usual, Freed guesses some things would remain the same even when time itself ceased to exist. 

And just like that, normalcy returned into Freed’s life. 

—/—

“Come for lunch.” Evergreen had barely deigned to slap lightly against Freed’s cubicle to announce her presence. 

“Is it that time already?” He asked, checking his watch. 

“No, we have about an hour. But don’t miss it again.” Evergreen said, arms crossed over a green blouse with a black pencil skirt. 

“I’ll come if I have time.” Freed said, already mentally considering how much he still needed to outline in his powerpoint presentation. Not to mention the graphics. 

“Make time. See you at lunch.” She flipped her hair before flouncing out of Freed’s cubicle and heading back towards the elevator. 

Freed sighed, looking over his work one more time. 

This would be his first time presenting anything to a professional crowd that wasn’t involved with his studies, he wanted it to be absolutely perfect. He’d tried not to let the slides crowd too much with information, getting simple graphics to explain the mechanisms of his software; logins, personal notes, in-app emailing and messaging, invoices and the like. He’d also colour-coded the sections based on relevancy, yellow for office-wide, green for finance and accounting matters, blue for other assistants and secretaries within the office, red for law partners, lawyers, legal writers and the like and black for human resources and management relevant issues. He’d also asked Lucy for everyone’s emails so he could send the slides personally so everyone could find them. 

He knew that it was a lot, and that at the very least his task of informing everyone and making sure the office now was on the same page when it came to administration was done, but he wanted to be better than the bare minimum, he wanted a “You’re a Superstar!” over a “Great Job Employee Number #4075” and it was starting to stress him out. 

Freed sighed, ignoring his monitor to take a sip or fifteen from his water bottle. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Levy’s sweet voice interrupted Freed’s dejected water drinking. 

“Would you call a hundred and twenty slide powerpoint paradise?” Freed asked, turning his chair to look at her. 

Her hair was tied back today, red glasses and a serious expression on her face. She wore suit bottoms and a crisp white shirt, a matching jacket likely back in her cubicle. She looked ready to go to war, or court. Both were likely correct considering she was working with Ms Lockser on securing a corporate fraud case. 

“Would you call a three hour hearing listening to CEO’s stutter about profit paradise?” She deadpanned. Freed smiled despite her clearly exhausted response. 

“Let’s just say we’re both suffering. What brings you over here?” He asked, checking the time on his watch to make sure it wasn’t lunch time already. 

“Juvia wanted me to drop off some completed transcripts, she said you’re planning to make an archive?” Levy handed Freed a large envelope. 

“Yes I thought it might be easier than having so much disposable paper.” Freed set the envelope on his desk, he wished he had another chair in his office somewhere so Levy could have somewhere to sit. 

“I know it’s only Wednesday of the second week, but you really are a godsend.” She smiled at Freed gratefully, “I’ve been asking for some sort of library for ages because scanning everything takes way too long, but no one here can work a computer to save their lives.” 

Freed was well aware, he’d been appalled at the way everyone was making paper timesheets and sending cheque-invoices like it was the nineties. 

“It’s no problem, I’m enjoying being a fixer-upper.” He wondered what he’d do with his office time once he’d sorted all the minute details out; he had a lot to do with his time now, but in four or five months Freed knew he’d start getting stir crazy. 

“You’re more like a miracle worker. But anyway, I was gonna ask if you’d be up for a drink or two after work today, but I just don’t have the energy. Ask me again next week and we’ll think of something.” She handed Freed a sticky note with her personal mobile before waving and walking back to the elevator with the air of a lamb leading itself to the slaughterhouse.

Freed shook his head. At least he wasn’t the only stressed person, he guesses. 

—/—

Lunchtime came after an hour of figuring out the best way to convert paper type-written transcripts into PDF and Word and realising that being a human being was way too difficult. 

He finally logged off for the moment, removing his own blue-light glasses and grabbing his little lunch box, smiling at his other coworkers as he headed to the “cafeteria”. 

“There he is!” Evergreen’s excited voice called out, waving Freed over to a table in the corner. 

Sat there was Lucy, Evergreen, Bickslow, Cana, Loki and Juvia. 

“Hi all.” Freed said, sitting between Juvia and Cana, who made space for him. 

“Levy told me she gave you some of her older transcripts to archive.” Juvia said, a tub of a truly alluring salad in front of her.

“Yes, it was way more difficult than I expected.” Freed said, pulling out his spanish rice and organic yoghurt from his lunch bag.

“I’ve found it quite difficult myself.” She nodded, taking another bite of her salad. 

“Well, besides all that boring stuff, Cana’s here to deliver some news.” Lucy said, her crust-less sandwich already bitten into.

“You make me sound like some sort of bard. Here here! The king has decreed that we are to attend a ball.” Cana put on a slightly convincing English Peasant accent.

“Isn’t that what you are?” Evergreen asked, already grinning at Cana’s miffed expression. 

“Now, now, let’s not forget that Cana also talks to the higher-ups so we don’t have to.” Loki adds, looking a lot more relaxed than the last time Freed saw him. 

“Yeah she gives them riddles and sings songs so they don’t get mad.” Bickslow huffed. Lucy cleared her throat pretending not to laugh. 

“Just for that, only Freed and Juvia are invited.” Cana pouted, crossing her arms. She was dressed a lot more casually than everyone else, some well fitted jeans with a blue patterned camisole and sandals. Freed envied her freedom. 

“Invited to what?” Freed asked, now eating his yoghurt. 

“The end of year Christmas Ball. It’s hosted by a charity every year and we finally managed to kiss enough asses to go there.” Bickslow supplied, he seemed a lot more relaxed today as well. 

“Why do we need to go anywhere? What does dancing have to do with criminal libel?” Juvia asked, ever the hard worker.

“It’s more a marketing event than anything. We need good industry relationships if we want to get more recognition.” Cana said, already sighing, “Clients don’t tend to trust small law firms that don’t have a backing from a large corporation.” Freed guesses she was in communications of some sort, which made sense considering what he knew of her personality. 

“Well, it can’t be too bad.” Freed said, shrugging.
“The guy who runs them is a sexist dickhead.” Lucy mumbled. 

“I rescind my statement.” Freed said. 

Being a generally androgynous person, he’d dealt with every corner of sexism there was. People would treat him like he was a stupid child when they knew he was an omega, would hold his hand and fuss over his eating and then undermine the feats of his intelligence in favour of his beauty- and whenever anyone thought he was an alpha, they were always disappointed by his lack of assertiveness, like the secondary aspect of his gender was meant to ignite like an alarm and turn him into some sort of macho growling marvel.

It was strange being himself, Freed realised, because even when he tried to present himself as a beta, and downright imply it at times to avoid bias from peers when it came to his PhD program, people held expectations either way. 

People wanted Freed to be an alpha, and wanted him to be an omega. It was always ‘you would’ve been such a good alpha’ or ‘you’re pretty like an omega’ and never ‘I accept you for who you are regardless of what your quarterly cycle is like!’ and it got exhausting more often than not. 

He could empathise when it came to avoiding shitty people who thought secondary gender was more important than character, personality and preference. So the idea of a sexist ball where he’d either have to lie to his coworkers or lose their respect by coming out as an omega? Well, that was a nightmare. 

“You don’t have to worry though, he doesn’t force everyone to wear collars or anything like that. He’s just the kind of guy who’ll try to figure you out by asking if you pee sitting or standing in the middle of a conversation about taxes.” Loki’s statement didn’t help much, but Freed appreciated him trying. 

“I just hope I won’t be the one he ends up bumping into.” Juvia shivered. “I hate loaded small talk.” Freed could agree with that. Some social conventions should have died when the monarchy itself did. 

“I think everyone would avoid him if they could. But either way, it’s free fancy food, booze, pictures and hey, for the single people here…” Cana winked at Freed and Juvia, “You never know who you might meet.” Freed could barely imagine dating his legitimate work crush, let alone a borderline business associate from a ball run by a sexist shithead (Lucy’s words, not his).

“I wouldn’t be too hopeful.” Juvia deadpanned. Freed nodded solemnly. 

And like that, lunch continued idly. 

Freed enjoyed the chatter and learning about others- but the presentation continued to loom in his mind. 

—/—

After what felt like another incredibly long workday, Freed finally left at 17:32, late but not as late as the day before. 

“Is this becoming a habit?” Laxus’ voice piped up from his usual corner. 

“I should be asking you that.” Freed sighed, hand on his heart because he still hadn’t noticed Laxus there. 

“Smoking?” Laxus smiles at the pouty expression on Freed’s face. 

“No. Standing in dark corners.” Laxus huffs at Freed’s statement, putting out his cigarette. 

“Tell you what, take a walk with me and I’ll start standing in well-lit corners instead.” Truly, Laxus was ridiculous. inviting Freed on these ambiguous coworker/friend hangouts, never meeting at the same time but managing to catch Freed at the perfect time every day, it made Freed’s silly little heart beat in ways he wasn’t really used to at this age. 

“Where are we going?” Freed asks, falling in step with Laxus automatically. 

“On a walk, duh.” Laxus’ strides are so wide that Freed has to scramble somewhat to keep up. He doesn’t even turn around to make sure Freed is there– which is an objectively rude thing to do, but is also somehow charming. 

How A-typical to expect Freed to follow. 

“So, what about work?” Freed asks, watching as they walk through the dusky streets of the park near their workplace. 

“I can take a long break or two.” Laxus hums, slowing down his pace slightly. 

“...No one times your breaks, huh?” It made sense considering Laxus is the last one in the office on any given day. 

“No one is timing yours either.” Laxus shrugs, making them turn to walk towards the walking trail. 

“We don’t know that.” Maybe Macao stalks the halls of the firm with a stopwatch, looking to catch people in the act of a two hour lunch. 

“There is literally no one who cares enough to do that for free.” Laxus raises his brow, challenging Freed to disagree. 

“Well if I got a bonus out of it–” Freed starts. 

“Princess, we’re all adults here.” Laxus asserts. “No one’s watching anything except performance reviews mid-year. The rest is up to us.” And wasn’t that a bit of a revelation. 

This was a big kid job. Of course no one was monitoring them, they were all busy and focused on their tasks, making the best out of the hands of the ticking clock of their workplace. No one would be there to catch Freed when he tripped, and no one would be there to pinch his cheek and encourage him when he did well either– adulthood was being stranded in the feeling of responsibility, down to the detail of his own emotions. 

The feeling of being small made familiar thoughts pop up in Freed’s mind; would his presentation create his place in the company? Set up a reputation that Freed would be unable to shed for the foreseeable future? Or worse, would Freed work this hard for nothing, all the colour coding and research whittled down to nothing but a long meeting and concepts of change that amount to nothing at all. 

“I suppose so. Though I wouldn’t mind getting paid to report your thrice daily lunch breaks.” And even as Freed speaks, worries began to spin in his mind; did he fix the graphics on slide 123? And had he made sure to invite everyone including Lucy? What if Freed has left work today forgetting something important? 

It was too much to think about at one time, and yet Freed wished he could think twice as much at once.

“–on’t.” lost in his head, Freed barely remembers to focus on what Laxus is saying, catching the end of his sentence as Laxus turns to look at him, stopping them both in the middle of the pathway. 

“What’s on your mind right now?” Laxus asks after a second, Freed feels guilt simmer in his stomach from actively zoning out while Laxus was talking. This was one of his older habits, deadlines have always been a scratch that Freed itches until it bleeds.

“Just this presentation.” Freed sighs deeply. It was probably child’s play to someone like Laxus, every part of his work was under scrutiny. Pressure to Freed was opportunity to Laxus. A difference as stark as his confidence and Freed’s shyness. 

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Laxus directs them to sit on a nearby bench. 

“You’re too confident.” Freed rolls his eyes, sitting just close enough for the tips of Laxus’ fingers at the back of the bench to poke against his shoulder. Sureness isn’t what Freed needs, he needs this presentation to be over, preferably with a grade despite the fact that he’s now post-graduation. He’ll never be graded again. (It’s terrifying). 

“Nah. Just know a genius when I see one.” Laxus smirks when Freed huffs at him. 

“I’m hardly a genius, I’ve just started here.” Freed doesn’t like being too praised for his brain. It had always felt more like the university system humoured him more than the other way around. He thrived under academics, under research papers, arguments and the rush of semesters spent immersing his mind in every facet of law and literature. And the best part of all of it was a mark at the end.Freed’s anxiety could be balmed by a number on a screen or paper, a single letter placed beside his name; Distinction, High Distinction. His hard work relied on knowing without a doubt that his work was good, and he knew just how good out of a 100 he did. 

Now it was gone, and the biggest project he’d ever do had the stakes of an entire company laying on his frail shoulders, failing wasn’t an option, but it has never been easier for Freed to fail. 

“Sure. And in that time you’ve managed to fix our shit time sheets and convince Lucy to use excel instead of her paper diary.” 

“…well, I am an administration assistant.” And of course Freed had known he’d have this job six months in advance and prepared the way he knew best. Studying excessively.

But Laxus didn’t know that. He just sees the beautiful fruits of Freed’s labour. 

“One with no experience.” Experience as an assistant, yes. Experience as someone nitpicky and organised? Limitless.

“I think the only person who knows how much experience I have would be someone with access to my resume.” Maybe on another day Freed could bathe under Laxus’ easy praise, but more than anything right now he needed someone to give him tough love, tell him to stop moping and get moving Cadet! Or something along those lines. 

In all honesty, Laxus was quite sweet on Freed. Unwaveringly confident in all of his attributes despite having known Freed less than a month. 

“Who says I don’t?” Laxus is smiling as he says it, and Freed knows he’s trying to help but. His needling pricks in a way that’s truly irritating for the first time ever, and Freed just feels the anxiety in his chest squeeze into a single needle.

“You don’t. And you don’t know how my PowerPoint will do, and you don’t know what I studied either.” Freed hates feeling this exposed, and this out of control and anxious and like he’s waiting for hell to release upon him, and he hates that it makes him snappy too.

That’s the issue with himself, Freed knows. His work will always come before anything else.

“Okay. I’m sorry for assuming.” Laxus doesn’t look or sound even an eighth of sorry, but his eyes reassure Freed he hasn’t taken the sharp words personally either. Freed exhales deeply in both relief and extra nerves.

“Why don’t we go back?” Laxus offers, standing from the bench. He offers Freed his hand and helps him up, the piercing warmth of them makes Freed’s fingers twitch.

“Okay, thank you.” Freed feels off kilter and distantly like an asshole. Something in his instincts cowering and submissive now that he’s let his agitation show. 

“Don’t thank me Princess, just take care of yourself, yeah?” Laxus holds Freed’s hand in his own as he says it, his face serious and sincere. 

“I’ll try.” After he gets all his work done, which Laxus doesn’t need to know. 

“If I catch you leaving at 5:30 again tomorrow I’ll chase you home myself.” Laxus threatens, finally letting go.

“I’m terrified.” Freed deadpans as they start the walk back to work. 

Laxus walks Freed to his car, leaving with the simple words ‘finish on time or else’, the words putting the first proper smile of the day on Freed’s face. 

He tries to let that reprieve from stress pull him to sleep later that night.

—/— 

Freed wakes up feeling a slightly pressurised ache in his temple the next day, the kind of steady throb that tells him simple painkillers won’t do the trick.

Regardless, Freed is a slave to routine and gets out of bed anyway.

By the time he’s out of the shower and in his workwear (black slacks, a button up and his favourite sweater that he hopes is formal enough for the office), his phone is ringing. 

“Justine speaking.” Freed answers, idly picking up his bag and considering what he should make for lunch. 

“Good morning my sweet son!” Freed’s excited mother answers the phone. 

“Morning, mother.” Freed walks into his kitchen, idly grabbing the correct ingredients for a sandwich.

“I’m quite surprised you picked up so early, love, usually you like to sleep until eight.” The pounding continues in Freed’s head, he hums noncommittally to his mum's words, rye bread and mustard blurring in front of him. 

“Freed?” Freed shakes his head, the world coming back into focus. Perhaps the pain in his head is more acute than he’d thought. 

“Yes, sorry? I’m a bit dazed today.” Freed hurriedly adds prosciutto, cheese, lettuce and tomato to his sandwich, cutting it in half and shuffling the entire thing into his work lunchbox. 

“Are you alright? Maybe you’ve been working yourself too hard.” She says, her tone concerned. 

“No, I think I’ve just woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Can I call you after work?” The sound of the lunchbox closing is oddly loud in Freed’s ears, but he ignores it. He adds a cup full of strawberries and a cup of organic vanilla yoghurt to his lunchbox. That should do. 

He grabs a muffin and two Panadol or breakfast, checking the time to make sure he’s on schedule. 

“You may. Have a good day my sweet!” His mother mimics a kissing sound into the receiver. 

“You too mum, mwah.” Freed sends a kiss back, sighing at the sound of a cut call. 

The medicine helps, and the headache is in the back of Freed’s mind by the time he’s back in the office. 

“Morning Freed!” Lucy’s chipper voice greets as he enters the lobby. 

“Morning, Lucy. You look nice today.” She’s put her hair in two space buns, shimmery eyeshadow and shiny lip gloss adorning her face. 

Lucy blushes at the compliment. 

“Thank you! I tried something different today, y’know?” Freed nods along, pulling out his employee ID and tapping it against their scanner. 

“The glitter really compliments your eyes, I think you look much too lovely for our boring office.” Lucy bashfully places her hand against her cheek at the second compliment. 

“You flatterer! Don’t you have spreadsheets to do?” Freed smiles at her unusually shy response, he wasn’t so sure what had her so bashful today. She always looked beautiful in Freed’s opinion. 

“That I do, see you later.” Lucy waves back as Freed enters the elevator. 

It’s 8:54, just about the time Freed always arrives in the morning, the office filled with the light buzz of people settling into their cubicles first thing in the morning. 

Freed hadn’t gotten a chance to finish his muffin before he left the house so he sets it on the table, thermos of tea beside it. 

“Something smells good~” Evergreen’s voice greets Freed from the entrance. 

“Good morning.” Freed responds, turning to see her in a black dress with a small belt and white blazer over it. Business if Freed’s ever seen it. 

“Good morning to you too! Is that a cupcake?” And with that, another day starts. 

—Well, not really. 

Freed’s computer gets stuck on the loading screen, ‘Logging In’ distilled as the white dots swirl over and over in front of him. It’s been six minutes, Freed’s checked. 

Who does he even go to for IT issues? And does this mean his computer is corrupted? Or crashing? 

Anxiety creeps into the crevices of his chest, leg shaking under his desk with nerves. He’s finished his muffin by now, Evergreen back in her cubicle on the other side of the office. 

It’s about 9:12, everyone’s still slowly coming in and Freed had wanted to chisel out every last corner of his presentation– the one less than 48 hours from now. 

He checks the time again, two extra minutes have passed. The screen is still loading and Freed feels like the universe is playing a particularly cruel joke on him now, like staying past 5pm yesterday has cursed him to a purgatory in which he cannot complete the one task that has plagued his mind almost since he’s started here. 

After another four minutes, Freed sighs, getting up.

He nods over at Levy as he heads up front to Juvia’s office. Macao had said to go to her with any issues, right? Though as the new administrator, Freed’s ego finds itself shrinking at the fact that he needs any help so soon. 

He knocks on the door lightly before opening to a small and neat office space. 

“Juvia?” Freed’s voice is so quiet it’s almost a whisper. 

“Oh, Freed. Is everything alright?” Juvia turns to Freed immediately, pen in her hand placed neatly on the large stack of papers on her desk. 

“I’m so sorry to intrude but my computer screen won’t log in at all. It’s been stuck for twenty minutes.” Freed idly grips his upper arm with his hand, wanting to hide away from sharp blue eyes. She probably has better things to do than help him with an obviously IT issue. 

“Oh no, not again.” She sighs, picking her phone up from seemingly nowhere. “One second, Freed.” She beckons him inside the office. 

Freed steps in fully, shutting the door softly behind him. 

He notices a photo of three different cats on Juvia’s desk, all of them with little Christmas themed jumpers. Another photo shows Juvia and a woman who looks eerily like an older version of her, a mother perhaps? Or maybe an older sibling. 

Freed’s inspection is interrupted by the sound of Juvia’s phone ringing, she nods to Freed mouthing ‘phone call’. The situation distinctly reminds Freed of being detained in the principal's office when he was eleven for threatening to wash a classmate's mouth with soap for swearing. 

“Hello, Jet?” Juvia sighs, leaning against her desk. 

“Yes, four people are having issues with the loading screen today.” Freed’s stomach rolls slightly at the information that he’s not the only one with this problem– usually this would fall under an admin issue. People tell Freed what’s wrong, Freed calls IT, IT sorts it out and Freed writes a report. His entire role exists so that people like Juvia can focus on their stacks of paperwork (of which, Juvia’s looks like it could tear through a trampoline) and focus on their jobs. Ridiculously, Freed feels disappointed no one thought to tell him about the computer issue. 

Though he shoves the feeling aside and focuses on logic– he’s still new, he would have likely found himself in Juvia’s office himself trying to find the number for their IT department. But a feeling of purposelessness settles in his chest, a mix of his neurotic need to be seamlessly perfect at this job, and his omega’s need to be seen as good by the pack he’s formed here. 

It’s altogether stupid and distracting, and by the time Freed can shake the thoughts out of his mind Juvia is already hanging up the phone. 

“I’m so sorry about this, Freed. Jet and Droy from IT are going to come in and have a look at what’s causing the issue, in the meantime do you mind working in one of the offices upstairs? Your employee ID should work just fine.” Freed nods. 

“Can I get an escort? Just so I know where I’m going.” Two weaknesses in one morning, and Freed is now behind on his self-made schedule of his work day.

“Of course, Evergreen is having the same issue so she’ll go with you. I’m so sorry again, I know you’ve been working really hard this week.” Juvia sounds truly sympathetic, though Freed isn’t sure how she’d know how hard he’s working considering she’s on the complete opposite end of the office from him.

“It’s not your fault. You have your own work to focus on as well.” Freed nods towards the pile on her desk.

“Oh, this is nothing. Wait till you see Levy’s pile.” Freed nods noncommittally, gently opening the door behind him. 

“Good luck anyway, I’ll go get Evergreen.” Juvia smiles and nods before moving to sit back down in her chair. 

Freed almost walks directly into Levy on his way back to his cubicle. 

“Oh! Sorry.” Levy is wearing her reading glasses, her hair a wild mess. 

“No, I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” This morning felt like it was taking too long to start. 

“You’re fine. Well, I better head off.” Freed nods, watching as she rushes off with her stack of papers. He really didn’t envy her or Juvia at all. 

He collects his lunchbox and phone from his cubicle before walking to Evergreen’s corner of accounting. 

“You come here often?” Bickslow’s voice almost scares the socks off of Freed. 

“Where did you come from?” Freed idly scratches at his chest, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat. 

“I was just there.” Bickslow points to a chair just out of Freed’s line of vision. 

“Right.” Freed peeps at Evergreen's desk, blue loading screen continuing to stall in front of them. 

“So, what are you doing in accounting?” Bickslow has some nerve asking Freed that when he’s wearing a high-visibility vest in a corporate office. 

“Evergreen and I have to move to the office upstairs because of the computer issue.” Freed waves his hand in the general direction of her seat, wondering where exactly she’s disappeared to. 

Bickslow whistles in sympathy. 

“Do you know where exactly upstairs?” Freed’s never been there, so no. 

“Juvia told me to head to room 4 and find a spot there.” Bickslow’s eyebrows raise, his expression twitching slightly. 

“That so? Well, I’ll leave you to it.” He’s gone before Freed can even ask what he's doing in their office on his own.

Freed sighs, defeated. 

If this computer issue is odd, his coworkers will always be weirder. 

—/—

By the time he and Evergreen make it to the sixth floor, it’s 10:07. Freed feels restless at the more than one hour of working time he’s lost to this fiasco.

He waits impatiently beside Evergreen reapplying her red lipstick beside him for the elevator door to open.

“You want some?” She asks as they enter the lobby. 

“No, thank you.” Freed has a feeling the bright cherry suits her a lot more than it suits him. 

As they walk into the reception Freed recognises the woman with white hair from the barbecue behind the desk, her upper half adorned in a white long sleeve shirt. 

What was her name again? Oh, it was–

“Mirajane.” Evergreen cooly greets her as they walk to the scanner. 

“Are you here to collect tax? I would have brought my sack of gold if I’d known.” Mirajane drawls, not even lifting her head to look at the two of them. 

“Freed, this is why I wanted us to go a floor higher.” Evergreen mumbles as she scans her ID. 

Mirajane’s head shoots up at the mention of Freed’s name. 

“Oh! Welcome. Is it your first time up here?” The friendly tone almost jolts Freed with how much of a shocking change it is. 

“Uh, yes.” Freed says, also scanning his ID.

“Wonderful! It’s mostly lawyers and associates up here, but you can always come if you want a more peaceful cubicle and better company.” Her smile barely wavers as she covertly insults Evergreen beside Freed. 

Her tone immediately reminds Freed of the barbecue, a similar syrupy sweetness as she’d implied that Evergreen was lesser for not being a young docile omega for her brother. Seeing someone as usually confident and bright as Evergreen shrink beside him under Mirajane’s gaze gives Freed a sick feeling in his stomach. He didn’t know much about exactly what the history between the three of them (including Elfman) was, but he knew that Evergreen had made him feel comfortable since he’d gotten here. 

She deserved the same. 

“I think I’m quite alright. It’s very welcoming downstairs as well.” Freed places what he hopes seems like a casual arm around Evergreen’s shoulder, pulling them both towards the office area. 

“Right. Well, have a good day!” Freed half shrugs half waves at her as he moves his arm to simply hold Evergreen’s shoulder beside him. Evergreen follows quietly, making no move to shrug off Freed’s hand. 

“I don’t know where we’re going.” Freed finally breaks their quiet silence as he tries to examine the numbers on the different doors. 

The common areas of this floor are all empty, lights dimmed around couches and booths in a high-end cafeteria. Seeing it now, Freed understands why they call their kitchen area a cafeteria with quotation marks around it; their simple chairs and tables pale in comparison to leather couches and televisions faced with ambient lighting. 

“It’s fine, it’s just at the end of the hall.” Evergreen says, clearing her throat. 

“Hm. This place is very different from our office.” It almost looks like a physical embodiment of the wealth gap between his coworkers downstairs and the unseen ones up here. 

“I know, it feels a little gross, doesn’t it?” Evergreen smirks as she says it, but her eyes still have a tension around them. 

“It really does.” Reality very rarely swept Freed off his feet like this. Moving from a cubicle to a closed office space placed money into a perspective he’s never had to consider before. He’s always been on the upper floor. 

“We’ll both be up here too one day.” Evergreen states fiercely, some of that light re-entering her eyes. 

“I’m not sure about myself, but I know you will be.” Evergreen’s smile is as good as a hug. 

They enter room 4, which appears to be someone’s personal office space with four other computers on the other side of the room. The desk up the front is made of expensive wood, a leather chair tucked neatly in and a simple placard waiting on the desk. 

L. Dreyar is all Freed sees before he and Evergreen set themselves up on computers across from each other. 

Finally, Freed can focus on his presentation. 

—/—