Chapter Text
As a general rule, Thim didn’t let themselves fall for anyone in the Factory.
They were a medic, there to treat the injured and not much else. Sure, he’d occasionally do a run or two with a few close buddies, but that was the extent of it. Love was off the table—it had to be, when your job was half your life, and that job depended on having a level head.
Unfortunately, things started to change when Meistro showed up.
The sly performer was nothing if not good at his job, and was even better at figuring out who absolutely didn’t want to bear witness to his antics—whether it was joking around and being a minor annoyance, or just downright flirting with people.
Thim, it seemed, was a target of the latter.
Despite being one of, if not the most withdrawn members of the Factory, Meistro had quickly figured out that Thim was an easy target. Easy to irritate, mostly, but also easy to fluster.
It had been some time since anyone had flirted with Thim—they couldn’t easily say when last it had happened—, and their inexperience was put on full display every time Meistro would approach him after a shift and make use of his stupidly hot voice and wandering hands to try and get a reaction out of his favorite medic. In this, he usually succeeded.
At the moment, Thim had just finished their last shift of the day.
After treating a whopping ten different parties who’d all made it to at least zone twenty-five (and were each in a condition that showed it), Thim was exhausted, ready to go home, eat dinner, and sleep before he did it all again tomorrow.
Just as they entered the break room to get their things, though, a pair of slender hands covered his eyes from behind, cool fingers sliding under their bangs to obscure his gaze.
”Guess who~?” A familiar voice asked. Thim could hear the smile in it. The barest hint of nerves fluttered in their stomach, but he tried to push it aside.
”Meistro?” He replied wearily, not bothering to play into the jester’s antics. Under other circumstances they might’ve, but they were too tired right now. The hands covering his eyes were removed at their words, and Meistro appeared in their field of view with a grin.
“Indeed, my dear medic!” He smiled, trying to catch Thim’s eyes from beneath their bangs. While being a bit shorter than the medic wasn’t Meistro’s favorite, he had to admit that it did come with its advantages.
When Meistro did manage to get a good look at Thim’s face, however, he saw only exhaustion—not a trace of the usual fluster or pretend irritation.
”My, my—what happened to you?” Meistro asked, following Thim as they went to their locker to get his things.
“It was a long day,” Thim replied curtly as he picked up his bag and sat down to re-tie their shoes.
“Mm, I see,” Said Meistro, positioning himself before Thim where they sat.
“Poor thing, you look positively drained…” a nimble finger reached out and traced Thim’s jaw, which made heat rise to their cheeks despite himself.
“Pity,” Meistro pouted, a smile lingering in his eyes. “I was hoping to invite you home with me, but now I fear you’ll pass right out before anything interesting happens.”
At that, Thim felt blood rush to his face and his groin. Meistro hadn’t exactly been subtle about his advances thus far, but never had he been so blatant. They looked up at the jester, who was feigning utmost disappointment and twirling one of the stars on his hat between his fingers.
Although tired, the thought that a night with Meistro wouldn’t be too bad rose to Thim’s mind unbidden, which surprised them a little. But he had little energy to weigh the pros and cons of the idea, so before he could overthink it, they spoke;
”I hope there’s coffee at your place,” he said, watching as a mix of expressions passed over Meistro’s face—rejection, as he’d been anticipating it, then surprise, then joy, which he emphasized with a wide grin. Thim thought they saw a flicker of nervousness in those dark eyes as well, but couldn’t be sure.
“What a surprise!” Meistro exclaimed, suddenly settling himself over Thim’s lap.
“I truly never thought I’d see the day, my dear medic.” He said as he lightly ran his fingers over Thim’s jaw again. Thim hummed their reply, trying not to focus too hard on the man in his lap and the fact that he liked the feeling of said man being there.
Meistro smirked when he saw Thim’s expression—tense, and a little red, just as it usually was when they were trying not to give into Meistro’s teasing. He was happy that he’d been able to coax the reaction out tonight, despite Thim’s clear exhaustion.
Although he’d been telling himself that his feelings for Thim were merely a passing fancy, the fact that he was responsible for raising the other’s mood, even just a little, made Meistro feel strangely prideful. He found he wanted to be that person for the medic for as long as he was permitted.
After a moment of admiring his dear medic, Meistro pretended to be struck by a distressing revelation.
”Oh, dear—there is much to be prepared at home! I confess that I did not expect you to oblige me, my love.” Said the jester, threading his fingers into Thim’s dreads, which they’d pulled back into a ponytail. Thim was forced to look up a little, and found the same resilient smugness on Meistro’s face.
“I unfortunately must request that you come see me later rather than now, my lovely medic,” the jester admitted. “What do you say about…hm…ten tonight?” He asked. Thim nodded, still a little unsure of himself and the situation, but going along with it nonetheless.
”Yes, ten is fine.” They agreed, and at that Meistro abruptly bounded from Thim’s lap and onto his feet.
”Splendid! I will see you then, my dear.” He smiled, bringing one of Thim’s hands to his lips and kissing the knuckles. And with that, he bowed and was off to prepare for his visitor, leaving Thim to wonder what exactly they’d just pulled themselves into.
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