Antiseptic had a way of clinging to clothes and skin. Hospitals were supposedly clean, but Cio always felt dirty when he left them. While working on his Master’s degree, he took to carrying around a change of clothes in his car for the days he’d spend in the hospital. Even just the drive back to his apartment had been too long without exchanging the scent soaked clothes with something a little lighter. He’d kept that habit with him even now.

His visits to the hospital were fewer and far between now that he was just an assistant to a senior researcher at Price Labs. Today he’d been sent to pick up the surveys on the walker updates they’d sent out last month. He was in and out, barely there for half an hour, but he stopped to change at a gas station regardless.

He stopped to wash his hands in the lobby bathroom at the labs. Then, again, he scrubbed twice in the sinks in the chem lab after handing over the surveys to Russell. He briefly debated a quick shower but thought that seemed extreme.

Except he really wanted that shower. He could swear that antiseptic smell was emanating from his skin. He kept getting whiffs of distinct ‘hospital smells’ and it was driving him crazy.

“Compile this then take it to the top.” Russell slammed the stack of surveys down on his desk and walked away. Cio made a rude gesture at his back and stuck his tongue out. Russell flipped him off without pausing on his way out the door. Cio laughed and pulled the papers towards him. He dug a sucker out of his desk drawer and got to work.

The stack shrunk steadily throughout the day while the pile of sucker wrappers grew. At some point, the lights in the adjoining room went out and Russell bid him a ‘See you tomorrow.’ Cio’s stack was almost finished, sort of, and he didn’t like to leave a job undone. He nuked his cold cup of coffee in the microwave and returned to his seat.

The janitor came through and cleaned up. Cio gives him a shameful smile and short apology when he swipes up the pile of sweets wrappers that had steadily grown on Cio’s desk throughout the day. It’s not until he’s finishing up the last paper, that he thought to check the clock. His eyes widened at the small 11:14 in the bottom of the computer screen. “Fuck,” he muttered as he typed in the last bit of information as quickly as he could. He still needed to summarize it all. “Fuck,” he groaned and dropped his head to the keyboard.

Thank God he’s still young. The only thing that gets him through the next half hour of work is knowing that he won’t have to mess with any of this the next day. He can be in the lab. Doing something. Making something. Not just mindlessly copying information into a new sheet.

The walk through the darkened hallways creeped him out. A persistent prickle between his shoulder blades had him convinced he was being watched, followed, and was two seconds away from getting grabbed. Even in the empty elevator, where it wasn’t possible for someone to be hiding behind him, he couldn’t resist glancing back to reassure himself that it was just him in the small metal box.

The fourth floor was almost completely dark. Emergency lights illuminated every couple of feet with a soft glow. Executive Assistant Rhodes’ desk was in perfect order. Her inbox was empty and waiting for the paper he held in his hands, but the light in Dr. Price’s office was still on.

He stood and debated for longer than he should’ve. Sure, it’d be quicker and easier to drop the paper off in her box. He’d be able to go home and go to sleep. But he hadn’t seen Dr. Price yet and he’d been working for Price Labs for six months. It was tempting, more tempting than it probably should have been, but, in the end, he placed the documents on Executive Assistant Rhodes’ desk and turned to walk away.

He didn’t get far though. He’d taken one step when he heard what sounded like a groan of pain behind the closed door. The choice taken away from him, he turned back around.

He knocked on the door. “Dr. Price?” he called out but didn’t hear an answer. Another minute debating with himself, and he cracked open the door. “Dr. Price?” he called again, softer this time.

At first glance the room looked empty and disappointment settled heavy in his gut. He stepped into the room regardless. That’s when he saw the black leather couch tucked just behind the door and the long, lean body draped across it. Cio’s mouth went dry at the strip of visible skin peeking between Dr. Price’s pants and shirt. Abs were softly defined. His hip bone stuck out as a deep line led into his charcoal grey slacks. He looked just as good as he had two years ago. 

Dr. Price was fast asleep. His lips were pulled down into a small frown. There was a small crease between his eyebrows. His dark hair, almost black, had small licks of silver peppering the sides. An almost empty bottle of whiskey sat on the floor within easy reach. Cio took a step back. If he was just asleep, then he had no reason to stay.

Except he nudged into the spindly end table that he hadn’t noticed when he came in. It wobbled, and for a fraction of a second, Cio thought all would be fine, but then the picture frame perched near the edge tipped over and fell.

Cio tried to grab it out of the air. His fingertips brushed the worn wood of the frame, and a crack split the still air as the frame crashed onto the polished wood floors of the office. Cio froze, half crouched over the frame.

A rustle on the couch had him forgetting the cracked frame. He looked up. Dark blue eyes watched him from a heavy lidded gaze. A soft sigh and Dr. Price sat up. He rubbed a hand across his eyes.

Cio straightened. The silence felt heavy. Oppressive. This was not how Cio wanted to reconnect with him.

Dr. Price sighed again. “What are you doing?” He had his elbows on his knees and his forehead resting in his hand.

“Ah, I was going to turn in the report for the new walkers Russell, uh, Dr. Topher I mean, had developed.”

“And Natalie just sent you in?”

“Assistant Rhodes went home. I left the paperwork on her desk.”

Dr. Price’s eyes opened again at that. “Then you came in here. Why?”

Cio fought the blush. It was weird that he entered the office. “I thought I heard… It sounded like someone was hurt in here. I was just making sure things were all right.”

Richard nodded and seemed to accept the answer for what it was. Maybe it was common for him to make noises when he slept. Cio glanced down at the bottle. “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight.”

Dr. Price blinked. “What are you still doing here?”

Cio waved towards the office door. “Turning in the report.”

Dr. Price scoffed. A frown overtook his face. “No. I mean why are you working this late?”

Cio shrugged. “I wanted to get this done. Didn’t realize it was so late until…”

“Until it was already late. Yeah. Been there.” Dr. Price’s gaze turned appraising. “What did you say your name was?”

That hurt. He knew that night hadn’t meant much, if anything, to Dr. Price but he could have at least remembered Cio’s name. “Mauricio Flores, but I go by Cio. Dr. Topher hired me six months ago as an assistant.”

Ah. There it was. A light of recognition went off in Dr. Price’s eyes. Cio waited for the awkward conversation that was about to happen. “Well, Russ got a good assistant at least. The lazy ass needed one.”

Cio snorted. Dr. Price smirked at him. Cio ignored the flutter in his stomach at the look.

“All right. You turned in a report. Good job. Go home.”

Dr. Price lay back on the couch. Cio hesitated. “You just live in your office then?”

Dr. Price cracked an eye at him. “I own the company. I can live in my office if I want.”

“Unprofessional.”

“I own the company. I can be unprofessional if I want.”

Cio laughed. “All right. Sure. Have a good night, Dr. Price.”

Dr. Price hummed in response and Cio left. The walk through the dark hallway, down the empty elevator and into the mostly deserted parking lot was a lot less creepy when his mind was more focused on Richard and how their first meeting was a lot less awkward than it could have been.