Boyle and Freeze

"Victor! What are you doing here? It's seven on a Friday night!" Ferris Boyle called into the lab.

Victor Fries spun around quickly, and the papers in his hands scattered to the floor in his haste. He had expected to be alone for the remainder of the evening.

"Oh, Mr. Boyle, sir. I was just reviewing the results on –" Victor quickly launched into an explanation as he bent down to gather the fallen test results.

"That's not what I meant," Ferris interrupted as he grinned mischievously. Victor glanced up, a perplexed expression on his face. Ferris shook his head at his employee with a sigh and stepped into the smaller room, shivering at the sudden drop in temperature.

"You're a married man, Victor. Without kids!"

"Yes, sir, but we're behind schedule on the project, and –"

"You do realize I'm not offering overtime," Ferris' tone darkened at the remark. He met Victor's eyes with such intensity that the smaller scientist turned his head away after a short time.

"Yes, sir, I understand. I have clocked out at four every afternoon this week," Victor answered shyly as he stood back up and laid the papers on the table.

"That's what I like about you!" the business-like charm returned to Ferris. "Dedicated and honest! You don't find people like you nowadays."

"Thank you, sir," Victor mustered up a small smile as Ferris approached him, offering to shake his hand. He gripped Victor's hand tightly in his own.

"Jeeze, you're freezing!" Ferris covered Victor's hand with both of his as he tried to warm the ice cold fingers.

"The cold doesn't bother me," Victor admitted, stuffing his other hand in his pocket as Ferris moved to reach for it.

"Of course not," Ferris allowed Victor's right arm to drop to his side, "but why don't you come up to my office for a bit to warm up? We wouldn't want you to catch a cold, especially in the middle of summer." Ferris elbowed him playfully in the ribs before he laid an arm over Victor's shoulders. Victor offered no resistance as he was led out of the lab. Ferris released him for only a moment to remove the outer lab coat before his arm was securely resting on Victor's shoulders again. They walked quickly to the elevator, Ferris nearly dragging Victor with him. Ferris called for the elevator and the doors opened immediately. They stepped inside as the doors slid silently closed.

"Do you like your job, Victor?" The question took Victor by surprise, and he stumbled over a few words as he tried to formulate an answer.

"Don't worry!" Ferris assured him with a light chuckle. "This isn't a test. I've just been so overwhelmed with meetings, luncheons and paperwork that I haven't had a chance to see my own facilities, let alone have a decent conversation with anyone. You're especially hard to come by. Every time I'm down in the labs, they tell me you're busy working on this, or fixing that. A workaholic to the first degree. Now, if only you could pass that on to Gregory. So now, how do like working at Goth Corp?"

"Yes, sir, I love my job here," Victor stated confidently. "It's really allowed me to—"

"And how long did you plan on working here?"

"For a while, sir. Perhaps until I retire?" Victor added hopefully. Ferris nodded.

"We'll keep you on the team for a while longer, I think," he patted Victor's shoulder affectionately. "It certainly beats sitting in your basement freezing bugs, hm?" Victor nodded solemnly.

"It was just a joke," Ferris laughed at Victor's serious expression. "You should lighten up some." They stepped out of the elevator and down the corridor of darkened meeting rooms. It had been a while since Victor had been up here, and he glanced about the rooms as Ferris tugged him along. They reached the end of the hall where Ferris' office sat, overlooking the smaller and less affluent buildings across street. He keyed open the door and flicked on the lights. Victor squinted in the bright florescent lights, not accustomed to the glare. Not that he had much time to stand and contemplate the brightness as Ferris swept him inside in the direction of his desk.

"Have a seat at my desk while I get us a drink," Ferris gave him an encouraging push in the direction of the nearest chair as he headed to the adjacent kitchen area.

"Mr. Boyle, I don't drink," Victor called after him, but Ferris dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand. Alone, Victor paused for a moment longer before sinking into the nearest leather seat. He melted into the cushions with a groan, his back sore from hunching over the lab table for the past few hours as everyone else left for the weekend.

Ferris returned jubilantly with two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine tucked under his arm. He place the two glasses next to each other, uncorked the bottle and began pouring their drinks.

"Sir, I don't drink."

"Nonsense! I'll call a cab for you," Ferris assured him, carefully pouring the blood red liquid to the top of the first glass.

"No sir, I don't drink . . . at all." Ferris cast him a quick glance as he topped off the second glass.

"What do you mean you don't drink? No cocktails at parties? Not even a beer at the end of a long day?" Victor shook his head.

"Perhaps something to take your mind away when the wife gives you the cold shoulder?" Victor felt his jaw clench. Forcing himself to relax, he shook his head with a small smile.

"Never had that experience? Well then you are a lucky man! Come now, a toast to a long marriage?" he raised an eye brow, holding one of the full glasses to Victor.

"You'll like it. Plus, it's good for the heart." Victor finally accepted the offer. He held the glass firmly in both hands, moving cautiously to avoid spilling. Ferris raised his glass, and Victor reluctantly followed in suit.

"To a happy wife when we get home," Ferris grinned, a clink sounding. Both men brought the glass to their respective lips. Victor stared down his nose skeptically, taking a small whiff. Ferris cleared his throat, and Victor quickly glanced up to see a generous portion gone from his employer's drink.

Swallowing hard, a measured sip passed his lips. Even the small amount was intoxicating to Victor. He took another swallow, rather enjoying the relaxing sensation.

"It's good, isn't it?" Ferris took another large drink and Victor risked a larger mouthful. Victor nodded in response to the question, realizing he had not verbally answered. He set the glass down to keep from draining it in an attempt to quench the hunger that had sprung up. He knew it had been at least seven hours since he had last eaten, and Victor was sure the wine would not be a good substitute for food.

Ferris watched him put the glass down, flashing him a questioning look as he drained his own glass. Victor pretended to adjust his collar for a second before retrieving the beverage. He drank again, desiring to stay on favorable terms.

Satisfied with his guest, Ferris leaned back in his chair and began to discuss other departments and future plans for Goth Corp. With a nod here and an appropriate comment there, Victor tried to maintain focus on Ferris' words. His level of attention declined rapidly as his own glass emptied. Victor took his final sip as Ferris recounted that he was merely the honorable mention for Bruce Wayne's Humanitarian of the year award for the second year running.

"Next year, for sure," Victor stated slowly, noticing the slur that had plagued him for the last half of the conversation. He gently pushed himself out of the chair, unsteady on his feet.

"Where are you going?" Ferris asked pleasantly enough. Victor chewed his lower lip, fearful of offending his boss after the hospitality he had shown him.

"Home?" Victor answered after too long of a pause. "I want not to . . . impose."

"Relax, my office is always open! Why don't you have a seat? Have some more wine," Ferris rose and circled around the desk, preventing Victor from leaving.

"I couldn't, sir," Victor resisted Ferris gentle push on his shoulder.

"Oh, but I insist! It's no problem at all," Ferris applied more pressure in the direction of the chair, his smile never faltering. After another tense moment, Victor yielded and sank back into the chair. Ferris retrieved the wine bottle and refilled Victor's glass. He handed it to Victor, waiting for him to drink before he returned to his chair. He launched back into his near monologue as Victor nursed his drink.

Victor struggled with listening etiquette, expressing what Ferris expected from him and trying not to fidget with his jacket. It may have gone on for most of the evening before Ferris paused to look at him inquisitively. Victor felt his blood run cold and clenched his hand in the lap to keep from tugging at his shirt collar.

"Are you feeling well?" Ferris inquired with a slight tilt of the head. "Your face is flushed."

"I'm just warm, a bit. The labs . . . they're more cold." Internally he cursed himself for complaining, adverting his eyes in shame.

"For heaven's sake, Victor, we're not in a formal business meeting. You can take your jacket off." Victor moved slowly, initially watching Ferris' face before he had to turn his undivided attention to his jacket. His fingers moved disjointedly about the buttons. Ferris chuckled and added, "You can strip down to your underwear for all I care."

Victor processed and allowed a small laugh that came out fragmented and died quickly on his lips. He shrugged out of his jacket, letting if fall behind him on the chair. Ferris waited another moment as Victor resettled.

"I'm serious," Ferris kicked off his shoes and put his feet up on the desk. "Unless you can't take off anymore without being obscene." Victor stared back with a raised eyebrow and a confused frown.

"Let's just say Nora wouldn't be happy if she hadn't married such a wonderful 'man'," Ferris teased. Victor smiled, finally understanding, but did not move to take off anymore. "Suit yourself then," Ferris fluidly shrugged off his jacket and removed his tie. He poured out another measure of wine for him, and topped off Victor's glass.

"So how is your wife? I haven't seen her since the GothCorp dinner back in May."

"She's good," Victor answered simply. Ferris pried a bit into Victor's home life, but Victor began to get a bit defensive.

"I didn't mean any harm," Ferris grinned widely. "It's a very beautiful marriage." Slowly, Victor began to open up as Ferris gently questioned him and encouraged more wine consumption.

They chatted pleasantly for a while longer when Victor felt a sudden pain across the bridge of his nose. He groaned as he opened his eyes. Staring back was his discombobulated reflection on the desk surface. Vainly he tried to recall when he had actually fallen asleep, much less what he had been saying. As he contemplated what had happened, Ferris pulled the dazed man back to an upright position.

Ferris spun Victor towards him, sliding off Victor's glasses. He folded them and sat them on the desk. A red welt was forming on the bridge of Victor's nose where his head struck the edge of the desk. Ferris gingerly touched the red mark. Even under the slightest pressure, Victor flinched.

"Has the wine all gone to your head?" Ferris chuckled gently, satisfied that Victor was not severely injured.

"Mm-mmm . . . sleepy," Victor responded, scrubbing his eyes.

"Come lie down for a little bit, then I'll get you a ride home. I don't want to keep you from Nora," he grinned as he leaned down and slipped an arm around Victor's back.

"After all, you were talking about how much you love her. Well, at least before you fell asleep mid-sentence." Ferris straightened up slowly as Victor worked to gain footing. Together they took a hesitant step, but Victor's balance failed him and he stumbled, nearly dragging both of them to the floor. Victor clung to Ferris, his face pressed against his boss' shoulder as they staggered across the room. Upon reaching the couch, Ferris sat Victor down and took a seat next to him. He brought the back of his hand up to Victor's forehead and then to his cheek as he checked for signs of a temperature.

"You're still flushed," he commented and began to unbutton Victor's shirt. Victor whimpered a protest and pushed his boss' hands away. He fumbled with the top button, failing to refasten the button with his clumsy fingers. His arms sank in defeat as Ferris continued his work with ease.

"Isn't that better?" Ferris deposited the pale blue shirt on the arm of the couch. Victor nodded shyly, eyes downcast. Ferris headed back to his kitchen with the promise to return with ice. When he returned with a cold glass of ice water, Victor had dozed off again. Even with his head tilted back and arms hanging limply at his side, he did not look at ease. Ferris sank into the adjacent couch cushion with ease, hardly disturbing Victor's slumber.

He touched the glass to the red welt that had gradually taken on purple hues around the edges. Victor released a pained sigh in response. Ferris waited another moment before touching the glass to each cheek respectively, leaving a trail of condensation as he traced the jaw line. The motion was repeated several times before Ferris dropped lower. He ran the glass over Victor's collar bone, studying Victor's expression as he inched over the rather undefined pectoral muscles. The lower he moved, the more Victor squirmed in a restless sleep.

Ferris hit a sensitive spot in his exploration, causing Victor to propel himself back into the couch in an attempt to escape.

"Whaare you doing?" he blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear his head and bring his world back into focus.

"Have some water," Ferris forced the glass towards him, holding it at Victor's lips. Victor took the offering with both hands, glancing at Ferris suspiciously. His boss had leaned too close, placing a hand under the glass, lest it should slip from Victor's grasp. Finally, he drank greedily.

Ice clinked in the empty glass, as Ferris took it from Victor's hands. He fished out a large ice cube for Victor's wound. He placed a hand on Victor's thigh, leaning over him to set the glass on the nearby table. When he sat back, he stared hard into Victor's face.

"Are you sure nothing is bothering you at home?" Victor squinted, studying Ferris a moment before nodding confidently.

"You know you can talk to me about it, right?" Another nod. "Something's weighing on your mind. You're so tense, I could feel it all the way through your lab coat! Just sitting here, you look stressed."

"It's juss . . . busy, this week," Victor fumbled for words as he spoke through his hand holding the melting ice in place. "Everything, and with project."

"You can't seriously be that worried!" Ferris clapped him on the shoulder with the hand not resting on Victor's leg. "Everything will work out fine. You and your team always get it done. Don't worry." Victor turned his full attention to the hand on his leg, which had not budged. He shuffled his feet, but his movements were lost on Ferris who was deep in thought.

"What you really need to do is unwind some, you know, loosen up a bit after a long day of work. Here," Ferris jerked Victor over onto his lap. He hooked Victor's nearest leg and hoisted his lower half onto the sofa.

"Wait," Victor responded as Ferris was taking off the shoes of his employee. Victor kicked out, pushing himself up. Ferris swept Victor's arms out from under him. He fell heavily against Ferris' knees, a premature breath escaping his lungs.

"Stop fighting me!" At once, Victor froze, a sharp gasp escaping him as Ferris yelled at him. Ferris kept a hand in the center of Victor's back to prevent him from sitting up as he tucked a plump pillow under Victor's head. His body trembled, not to be quelled by the gentle hand stroking his hair.

"Now relax, and stop fidgeting," Ferris cooed. Victor settled some, allowing his weight to rest on Ferris' legs. He took a deep breath, feeling a tremor still rattle him as Ferris trailed his fingertips across Victor's shoulder blades. The pressure was almost undetectable at first, but before long, Ferris dug into the tight muscles with his fingers.

"Please, stop," Victor cried out, an electric pain shooting down his spine. He rolled towards his side, but Ferris merely pulled him back, continuing to massage the knots from Victor's shoulders.

"Calm down. You're a wreck," Ferris informed him. "You'll feel better after this, I promise." Another whine could not be helped before Victor clamped his teeth over his lower lip to stifle any other sounds. Ferris worked deftly along the shoulder line. Gradually, Victor felt the tension leave his body. A pleasurable moan could not be stopped, and Victor's cheeks burned as he stumbled over an apology.

Ferris chuckled, working his way down Victor's back. He hit a particularly bad spot across Victor's lower back, caused by too many hours hunched over his work. Victor tensed again, tears stinging his eyes. Assuring him that the results would be well worth the mild sensation of discomfort, Ferris expertly dispelled pain. With Victor nearly melting, he felt the fingers of sleep tug heavily on his eyelids.

He must have drifted off again, as he found himself no longer draped across Ferris. Victor sighed contently, relaxed for once. A warm hand continued to trace circles on his back as a warm breath feel across his face.

"Won't you do me a favor?" A flash of suppressed enthusiasm crossed Ferris' face as he leaned down to peer into Victor's half closed eyes. The lack of answer prompted Ferris to continue confidently.

"You see, my wife's not as good to me as Nora is to you," his hand trailing down Victor's spine lazily. Confusion doused Victor's features. "And . . . it would be quite rude to refuse after the hospitality I've shown you, wouldn't it?"

". . . Siiirrr, I don't –"

"Wouldn't it, Victor?" his tone was stern, the business charm gone once more.

"Yes, sir," Victor resolved in a low murmur.

"Good! I'm glad we see eye to eye." Ferris' hand roamed too low for comfort, tracing the side of Victor's hip. "Besides, you'll enjoy this, too, I assure you."

Victor let out a sharp wine as Ferris lowered Victor's pants to his knees. He kicked out, striking Ferris' arm. Ferris held a knee to Victor's back to stop him from rolling to a better position, working to restore the control he had over the scientist. Victor's struggle, although disjointed and off balanced, managed to keep Ferris at bay for a few moments before he secured his hold on Victor's ankles. Unable to kick out, Victor thrashed about beneath the weight of his boss.

"Stop this!" Ferris grunted, his hold nearly faltering.

"No," the voice was meek compared to the resistance he was showing. Ferris risked his hold and pulled one arm away. He backhanded Victor's rear, the resounding silence bringing Victor's struggle to a halt. In one swift movement, Ferris jerked Victor's head towards him, forcing the smaller man to roll into the back of the couch. Victor whimpered, quietly begging Ferris to release him.

"Why are you fighting me? Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Ferris screamed, giving a swift jerk of Victor's head with every word. With the eyes of a deer in the headlights, Victor met Ferris' vivid glare. Gradually, Ferris maintained control of his breathing and the red subsided from his face. To try and ease his paling companion, Ferris stroked the back of Victor's head with one hand, fondling his ears and cheek with the other.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you," Ferris cooed with a strained smile. "You'll enjoy this, I promise."

"No. I d-d-don't want –" Victor's lower lip trembled as Ferris traced it with a roaming thumb.

"Of course you do," Ferris assured him. "Just lie back down the way you were, and relax." Victor shook his head, drawing away from Ferris.

"Don't make me force you," Ferris threatened calmly. With jerky movements, Victor lowered himself face down on the couch, his legs pressed closely together, ankles crossed. Ferris slid a hand over Victor's underwear as he stood, then ambled to his desk. Victor pressed the pillow to his mouth to quiet his sobs as large tears rolled down his face. He cast a side glance at his boss, who riffled through his desk drawers. Victor turned away as Ferris returned, slipping a close fitting rubber glove on his right hand. He pried Victor's legs apart and knelt between Victor's knees. As he slipped Victor's underwear down past his thighs, Victor clenched, pressing his legs tightly against Ferris.

"You're awfully small, aren't you?" Ferris sneered, his hand exploring the unchartered territory. Victor squirmed at each poke and prod. Ferris toyed with Victor's opening, not penetrating yet. He stopped examining and generously coated his gloved index finger with lubricant.

"You need to loosen up," he rimmed the opening with the moistened finger.

"Please don't do –AHH!" Victor's plea was cut short as Ferris pressed his finger past Victor's wall of resistance. Victor cringed at the sudden invasion, pulling away from Ferris as far as he could before the hand at his hip gripped him tightly, keeping him in place. He tightened his muscles as the invasion inside him continued. Ferris' finger was too slick to be stopped as it made a slow rhythm of pressing in and pulling out. Ferris' movements were smooth and controlled as Victor slowly became use to the foreign intrusion. Ferris' other hand reached up underneath Victor to gage the reaction.

"Seems like you actually like this," Ferris laughed, curving his finger just slightly inside Victor to brush up against Victor's prostate. Victor gasped, hating how hard he had become under Ferris' control. He failed to stifle a moan as Ferris gingerly worked the spot, adding more pressure.

"Does Nora not give you enough attention at home?" Ferris chided, squeezing Victor's quivering member. Victor's words were muffled as he hugged the pillow tighter over his mouth. Ferris removed his first finger and prepared to insert a second.

Victor could not help the small thrust into Ferris' left hand as his boss spun two fingers inside of him, widening the breach. Victor tried to force his mind elsewhere, to think of anyone or anything else, but he could not push the feeling away: he needed a release.

Sensing the urgency Victor expressed, Ferris increased his pace. He massaged Victor's prostate with each thrust, waiting for Victor's determination to cave. In a short time, a shrill cry erupted from Victor as he tossed his head back to bring in enough air. His back arched and his entire body tensed as the orgasm rocked his body, cum splattering his stomach and the couch cushions. He fell back to the couch heavily, gasping for breath as Ferris continued to probe him.

"That was a lot quicker than I expected," Ferris commented with an unwavering rhythm. "I hope you last a bit longer than three minutes with your wife!" Victor tried to crawl away, drawings his legs up some. Ferris sharply crooked his embedded fingers to prevent Victor from pulling further away.

"I don't know where you think you're going," Ferris warned, tightly squeezing Victor's genitals.

"Please . . . no more," Victor whimpered, his voice thick with sobs. Taking no pity, Ferris rammed his two fingers inside, pumping them rapidly.

"We've only just begun," he declared. "You've been having a fine time. It's only fair that I should be allowed to enjoy myself, don't you think?" With an agonized groan, Victor buried his face back into the pillow, exhausted and spent.

Satisfied that Victor was loosened up enough, Ferris withdrew his fingers. He unzipped his dark blue dress pants and worked his own member for a moment as he doused himself with lubricant. A sob bubbled out of Victor as he made one last plea to be let go. He tensed as he felt the tip of his boss press into him, knowing he was too weak to stop him. Ferris leaned over top of the smaller man, lying on top of him as he gently penetrated the virgin man.

Ferris paused, only a few inches deep. He savored the tightness, purring quietly into Victor's ear.

"You feel good," he moaned, beginning an excruciatingly slow pace. Victor whined below him, and Ferris could still feel him trembling. He sped up slightly, still too slow for his own preference, but he kept his movements shallow.

"Are you going to move a little, or do I have to do all the work?" Ferris chided, sliding a hand below Victor's hips to pull them closer. His fingers fluttered against Victor, a muffled moan resulting. He held himself up with the other arm, trying to keep some of his weight off of the fragile scientist. It took a few minutes of these motions before Ferris spoke again, feeling Victor harden once more.

"It must be nice to be on the receiving end," Ferris ventured a slightly deeper thrust. Victor gasped in pain. Ferris mistook it for pleasure, adding, "Think of this way: you know how much Nora loves it when you pleasure her." Ferris toyed with Victor's member, massaging the shaft, and running his thumb across the head.

Victor shifted to his side to avoid the extra unwanted attention Ferris was bestowing on him. Ferris dropped his full weight into a thrust, reasserting his control. He thrust deep a few more times, Victor unintentionally flinching, muscles drawn tight. He hands were curled into fists with an assault that ripped at his insides. The quickening hand movements underneath him on his over stimulated member brought no sound of pleasure to his moans.

Nothing prepared him as he fell victim to Ferris' expertise. Without warning, Victor drove his hips forward into the couch. He screamed as his member twitched in Ferris' hand. His body tried to ejaculate once more, but Ferris gripped him tightly at the base of his erection. He began to thrust into Victor faster, pounding against Victor's prostate. Each plunge elicited a shrill grunt from Victor. Ferris groaned, taking a deep thrust and ground his hips into Victor's, finally driving the smaller man over the edge. Back arching again, Victor's body spasmed beneath Ferris, releasing little even with the intensity of the orgasm.

With a heavy sigh, Victor fell back to the couch, head turned to the side as he gasped for air. Sweat glistened on his face, leaving wet trails next to the tear stains.

Ferris moaned in ecstasy as Victor rode out his orgasm, the twitching muscles nearly causing Ferris to release before he intended. Once Victor was still, he continued his thrusts, much more generous with the deep thrusts. He rammed himself deep into Victor, drawing Victor up to a kneeling position to find a better angle for himself. Victor hung limply in front of him, not bothering to find a more comfortable angle. With fingers digging into each hip, Ferris pulled Victor against him, plowing into him with no regard to the previous gentleness he promised. He thrust in as deep as he could, allowing his own moans to overpower Victor's weak chirps of pain.

Head raised to the ceiling, Ferris took one last deep thrust. He filled the smaller man with his seed, sighing contently. He finished with a few shallow thrusts, his own breaths beginning to slow. He slid out of the man, leaving red finger prints in his wake as he let go of Victor. Victor fell heavily forward, lying still except for the tremors that would rack his body. Ferris knelt where he was, breathing deep and wiping sweat from his forehead. He stood with refined movements, his own legs stiff. He rolled his shoulders and stretched as he strode over to his desk. He riffled through the top drawer, taking some tissues out. Once he finished cleaning himself, he redressed and took a swig of wine straight from the bottle.

Glancing over, he saw that Victor had not even attempted to rise. Ferris Approached him, bringing a handful of tissues and the small trashcan by his desk. Gently patting Victor's rear, he began to clean the semen that drained out of him. He hated to admit it, but he had not noticed the thin trails of blood that dripped down Victor's leg before. He frowned as he wiped the evidence away, hoping Victor did not have a severe injury.

His thoughts vanished quickly as Victor retched, his entire body contracting with the force. He rolled off the couch, legs entangled at the knees. Ferris jerked the trashcan underneath his mouth and supported him as Victor vomited.

He was violently sick for a few minutes, returning all that Ferris had offered in terms of refreshments. Soon, he was reduced to dry heaves, too little food in his system to dispel. Ferris himself fought to keep his dinner down as the reek started to disperse in the room. He held Victor upright, one arm around his waist and the other supporting his upper body. Victor's breath was still labored as he sunk to the floor, exhaustion painted on his sickly pale features.

Ferris, with great difficulty, hoisted Victor to his feet. He used his foot to kick off Victor's pants, lest he should trip over them again, and clumsily dragged him to the bathroom.

"Why don't you clean yourself up?" Ferris murmured, showing Victor the shower. In another state of mind, Victor may have marveled at the marble design, but he nodded his head in agreement. He leaned against the wall for support as Ferris ran the water. Happy with the water temperature, Ferris turned to Victor, looking him over. Victor kept his eyes downcast, hesitantly stepping towards the shower current. Ferris took his arm firmly and helped him step in, pulling the curtain behind him. Victor promptly slid to the floor, letting the hot water wash over him.

Ferris let him be, stepping into the main office to gather Victor's clothes. He folded them and left them on the sink with a fresh towel. Impatiently, he waited outside the bathroom door, frequently glancing at his watch.

"Don't fall asleep in there," Ferris warned, calculating exactly how long Victor had been in there. Just as he was about to barge in, the water was shut off and he breathed a sigh of relief. He waited for what felt like hours until Victor finally straggled out, hair ruffled and clothes wrinkled. Ferris placed a hand on Victor's shoulder. Victor recoiled at the touch, swallowing hard. He stood frozen in place for a moment longer before he allowed Ferris to lead him towards the desk so he could retrieve his glasses.

"Why don't I take you home?" Ferris offered, but Victor shook his head.

"Listen, I don't want you driving!" concern rang true in his voice. Victor nodded.

"I won't, sir," he croaked, voice hoarse. "I'll ask Nora to pick me up." Ferris offered his phone and Victor dialed the number with shaky fingers. His call was answered on the second ring.

"Victor! I was worried about you! I called your office phone twice, but couldn't reach you."

"I'm sorry to worry you," Victor spoke slowly, wondering how much of the slur and tremble in his voice she would catch.

"Is something wrong?" he winced at the concern in her voice.

"No, I just . . . will you pick me up?"

"You sound tired. Was Ferris throwing a wild office party?" she chided, but his face grew dark.

"I guess . . ."

"I'm on my way. I love you Victor." A genuine smile graced his face for a fleeting second.

"I love you, too." He gingerly replaced the telephone, assuring Ferris that Nora was on his way.

"Let me walk you down to the front door," Ferris offered.

"No! I mean . . . I'm fine, thanks," Victor drew away from Ferris' outstretched arm. He did not step far enough away, as Ferris laid a hand securely on Victor's shoulder. Victor cringed as Ferris squeezed gently.

"Are you sure you're okay? I might have . . . gotten a bit carried away," he admitted.

"Really, I'm fine," Victor forced a sad smile, suppressing the bile that was rising in his throat again. Ferris nodded, his hand sliding away as Victor left in a rush.

On Monday morning, Victor missed the first day of work since he had begun work at Gothcorp five years ago.