[ Huffing out a throaty laugh at startling Newt - he does feel a little guilty, but not enough to be sheepish about it - Alby sways away from where he stands in the doorway, heading into the kitchen proper. He's not really too concerned about being seen in his pajamas, to be honest, and instead just pads right over to where his chef is standing at the stove. ]
Barely seen you since this damn project started. Be pretty disappointed if you skipped out on me when this is the first breakfast I get to wake up to you in the kitchen.
[ With a gentle prod to his side, he gets his mail off the counter with some amount of reluctance and obeys the shooing from the spatula to go sit down.
But instead of reading like the responsible adult he is, he pushes everything to the side of the table and looks down at the parfait and granola, smile on his face as he ducks his head a little. ] How long you been at this?
[ newt's chest twists up warm and his heart does a backflip when he says that; he has to turn down towards the stove to keep the grin on his face muffled down to something reasonable for an employee and his boss. his crush on alby is getting to honestly gargantuan levels, and for as much as he tries to smother it and push it all away, it's really, really hard to do so when alby's looking at him with his eyes still sleepy and in his bloody pajamas. he pushes at the bananas with his spatula to give him something to do with his hands; he's probably got another minute or so before everything's ready.
it doesn't have to be the last, he'd say, if he was braver. or even if this was just a different situation.
(he's not good enough for alby and he knows it; at least if he pretends it's a boss/employee thing, he's a little less likely to be disheartened when alby swoops through the door with a beautiful woman on his arm.)
glancing back over his shoulder, newt wrinkles his nose, thinking. ] Mm...bout an hour or so? Maybe an hour and a half. [ with a faint tease, he adds: ] Woke up early for you and everything.
Jesus, you did. [ Because Alby has learned ever since hiring Newt that he is not an early riser. It's ridiculously endearing, especially on the literal handful of occasions that he's managed to coerce Newt into staying the night instead of driving home - due to bad weather or a late night or whatever excuse he could grasp - and seen the bedhead he's come out with.
Settling in his seat to watch Newt cook, because he has food there but he also has Newt there, he folds his arms on the table and leans his weight on them casually. It's so easy to just get lost in watching him work around the kitchen, effortless and relaxed as anything. It's like he belongs there.
Like he belongs in Alby's kitchen.
He nudges at his spoon absently with a finger, almost moving it back and forth like a pendulum. Eventually he's going to think of a way to keep him here, although he's not certain how that will go. ] I appreciate it, though. A lot.
It is my job, y'know. [ his tone's warm, though, giving newt away pretty much instantly. technically, this isn't part of his job. he could have brought him premade meals like he did at the beginning, once a week for three weeks before he started to get to know alby, started to talk to him a little, get words out of the ever stoic businessman. but since their first conversation, newt's always tried to find ways to slip into the cracks of alby's life, trying to make things a little warmer, a little brighter. he cooks for him, yes, but he also puts flowers in vases for the tables and brings everything from midnight snacks when he knows alby's busy--and on those rare occasions, he'll crash here, sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms and desperately wishing he was two doors down--to a breakfast, like this.
he's probably sickeningly obvious, but newt tries to keep it to himself. at least he's not thomas, for christ's sake.
so he does have to battle down the warmth in his chest, a little, try to keep himself from reading too much into it. newt does turn over his shoulder for a second to look at him, and when he does, the smile on his face is impossibly warm, too soft for an employee, too soft even for a friend. ] It's nothing, don't mind a bit.
[ luckily, the bananas more or less finish before newt can embarrass himself, and he hums an "ah ha" before carefully going to plate the rest of it. french toast, bacon, the lot of it. he brings it over to alby and sets it down in front of him, still smiling kind of crookedly at him. yeah, he's got it bad. ] Want something to drink?
Wasn't in the job description to go above and beyond, which, y'know. You've done. [ And he could compile a gigantic list for this, because it's true. Newt's done so much for him ever since he hired him, from cooking to livening the place up to being his friend, someone that he could talk to and rely on when he was stressed from work or tired of interacting with people that grated on his nerves. Newt is his even keel, and Alby could never be more thankful to have him in his life.
But he could sure try.
He finally picks up his spoon to start in on the parfait and granola, corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile. Though he's always been fairly stoic, even as a child, it takes the smallest thing done by this beautiful blond to get a smile out of him, to get him to even grin and laugh.
Something warm settles in his chest as he looks back at him, gives him that smile over his shoulder, and he has to duck his head so that he can take a spoonful of parfait that hides the obvious emotion on his face. He's in so deep and he's not sure when it happened.
Not sure if he minds, though.
When Newt brings the plate to the table, Alby does look up at him then, expression softening even as he tries to hold it at bay. ] Surprise me.
[ he waves that off with his hand, because that's not true. newt's doing everything he wants to do; he'd do it for free, to be perfectly honest. the fact that he works this as a job is like some kind of blessing. alby had been a blessing, at a time when newt was so down on himself that he'd taken to withdrawing into his room, never going out, barely eating--a right, proper mess. imagining that your future is empty no matter how much money you've sunk into student loans is a miserable, miserable thing.
and then alby came along, and the future got a little brighter. it's better to think "i made it" when you have someone to live for, something to do. keeps the sadness out.
he shouldn't act on it and he knows he shouldn't. they're so close, though, alby's right there; when he turned towards him to say that, it left them maybe a couple of inches apart. but newt can't resist, can't anymore. in that scant space it's easy to think about his employer and his friend, a person who has seen him at his worst and his best, brought him out of bed when he was miserable and showed him some kind of light, a little bit of happiness in this cruel, fucked up world. he says "surprise me" and newt does.
[ Newt is a reminder that there's more to life than his work. Unfortunately for Alby, as someone so young that climbed the ranks so quickly, it's pretty easy for him to forget about the fact that he can exist as a human being. His responsibilities come first, before even his own care, and having someone around that actually cares about him and not numbers and sales and information is something that's... freeing, almost. Gives him something to live for, himself.
So he doesn't react with shock, when Newt kisses him. Because Newt became his thing to live for, beyond his company.
Instead, he reaches his hand up, spoon clattering down to the table, so that he can hook it behind his neck and keep him from going anywhere. Knowing his cook like he does, the one that gets down on himself sometimes and has the biggest heart he's ever seen, he figures that if he doesn't pull him in he's going to try and pull back.
He doesn't want that. At least, not before he can kiss him back. ]
[ when the spoon drops, newt honestly reaches to try and do that--he flinches, although more from the sound than anything else, but before he can jerk back (you've shucked it up for sure, now, haven't you?) alby's big hand curls around the back of his neck and newt pauses. this all occurs in the span of a couple of seconds, and its almost too much to process, but alby is kissing him, and newt just.
he just melts into it, the hand on his shoulder curls into his tank, instead, fingers clutching in the fabric for a moment before he lets go, finds his cheek and cups his face, instead. if newt pulls away, it'll be too soon, and he sighs into his mouth, this tiny, relieved thing. more than anything else, he was scared. he's had a thing for alby almost since the day they met, and it only got worse over time, with newt dropping his head into his hands at a bar with a beer in hand and moaning about how attractive and perfect alby is, how completely out of his league he is, too. they balance each other, he thinks, with everything from looks to personality to finances.
although, right now, all he can really think about is the soft mouth pressed to his. he could clamber into alby's lap from this position but he doesn't, just. slowly pulls away, just a little, his cheeks flushing pink. what do you even say after that? i've loved you for months?
he settles on a soft-- ] Bloody hell. [ and breaks into a little bit of a smile. ]
[ If Alby could just kiss Newt for the rest of his life, he'd be more than happy. Screw the company, screw the finances, screw whatever responsibilities that he has. He just wants to spend all of his time with his personal chef, because there's nothing more perfect than this moment, here. Newt's small hand against his cheek, the softness of his mouth against his own, the little sigh that he practically breathes in. It causes a smile to twitch at the corners of his mouth, small and sweet without realizing it.
This was never meant to happen, he's sure. But it's natural as anything, so he has no complaints whatsoever. Not when he can finally give into the urge to kiss him, to touch in more than just a passing friendliness, something that's not even close to what he's been really wanting to do.
He fell in love with his food, then he fell in love with him just as easily.
Looking up at him as Newt pulls back, Alby has to resist following after him. Instead, his hand slips down, dropping to his hip as a small laugh leaves him. ] Yeah.
[ alby's hand feels like it's on fire, it's so warm against newt's hip--he's pretty sure his presence is pretty much anchoring him into the moment because newt thinks he might just float away, otherwise. one part of him is sort of exeuberant, wants to jump up and down and run around in circles and shout out to the rooftops i just kissed alby. the other part wants to run as far away as possible and hide in a closet somewhere and wait for this to go away, for alby to realize that he was being an idiot. there are ethical and moral problems with this, things he shouldn't just. do. and kissing his boss is probably one of them.
still, he swallows the lump of butterflies in his throat and tries to tamp down on his smile, but newt mostly fails. he does draw his hand away from his face, finally, hesitantly curling his hands in the air before he sets one down on the chair. boundaries?? ] Probably shouldn't've....sorry.
[ They probably shouldn't. But Alby just looks up at him as Newt pulls his hand away, moves to set it on his chair. And he just regards him there, thumb rubbing against his hip instead of drawing back. That might come off as permission to move, or him wanting to move away. But he doesn't. He wants to draw him into his lap and hold him there instead, to cradle his face in his hands and kiss him again. It's an overpowering thought process, and he just huffs out a soft breath that could almost be a laugh. ]
Nothin' to be sorry for. [ Even if he doesn't sound apologetic, really.
Bringing his free hand up, he slides it along the length of Newt's arm, easy and casual. Like they've been doing it for months or even years. Slowly, he goes to his thin wrist, taking it between his fingers before he goes to take his hand itself. There's no real reason for it except for him to take it, to hold it, feeling the delicate bones of his fingers with a passing brush of his thumb over his knuckles. ]
[ newt feels a little like he's going to explode out of his skin--all he can do is watch alby's hand move, a little bit like a frightened deer for a second. it's not that he's scared, or that he feels bad, really, but he doesn't want to get fired, either. and he knows how inappropriate that was, that he shouldn't have kissed him. but god does he want to do it again. alby gave him someone to live for, even if was something as stupid as making sure he didn't go a couple days without eating--something he'd admitted he was prone to doing before newt was around. it made him get up every morning, because he knew he'd have to take care of alby. he felt needed. wanted.
even more so when he holds his hand like that. newt exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding and looks at their joined hands, feeling something inside of him leap and thrill as his thumb brushes his knuckles. quietly, he asks-- ] You sure about that?
[ because he has to wait for the other shoe to drop. it's going to, sooner or later. ]
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no subject
Barely seen you since this damn project started. Be pretty disappointed if you skipped out on me when this is the first breakfast I get to wake up to you in the kitchen.
[ With a gentle prod to his side, he gets his mail off the counter with some amount of reluctance and obeys the shooing from the spatula to go sit down.
But instead of reading like the responsible adult he is, he pushes everything to the side of the table and looks down at the parfait and granola, smile on his face as he ducks his head a little. ] How long you been at this?
no subject
it doesn't have to be the last, he'd say, if he was braver. or even if this was just a different situation.
(he's not good enough for alby and he knows it; at least if he pretends it's a boss/employee thing, he's a little less likely to be disheartened when alby swoops through the door with a beautiful woman on his arm.)
glancing back over his shoulder, newt wrinkles his nose, thinking. ] Mm...bout an hour or so? Maybe an hour and a half. [ with a faint tease, he adds: ] Woke up early for you and everything.
no subject
Settling in his seat to watch Newt cook, because he has food there but he also has Newt there, he folds his arms on the table and leans his weight on them casually. It's so easy to just get lost in watching him work around the kitchen, effortless and relaxed as anything. It's like he belongs there.
Like he belongs in Alby's kitchen.
He nudges at his spoon absently with a finger, almost moving it back and forth like a pendulum. Eventually he's going to think of a way to keep him here, although he's not certain how that will go. ] I appreciate it, though. A lot.
no subject
he's probably sickeningly obvious, but newt tries to keep it to himself. at least he's not thomas, for christ's sake.
so he does have to battle down the warmth in his chest, a little, try to keep himself from reading too much into it. newt does turn over his shoulder for a second to look at him, and when he does, the smile on his face is impossibly warm, too soft for an employee, too soft even for a friend. ] It's nothing, don't mind a bit.
[ luckily, the bananas more or less finish before newt can embarrass himself, and he hums an "ah ha" before carefully going to plate the rest of it. french toast, bacon, the lot of it. he brings it over to alby and sets it down in front of him, still smiling kind of crookedly at him. yeah, he's got it bad. ] Want something to drink?
no subject
But he could sure try.
He finally picks up his spoon to start in on the parfait and granola, corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile. Though he's always been fairly stoic, even as a child, it takes the smallest thing done by this beautiful blond to get a smile out of him, to get him to even grin and laugh.
Something warm settles in his chest as he looks back at him, gives him that smile over his shoulder, and he has to duck his head so that he can take a spoonful of parfait that hides the obvious emotion on his face. He's in so deep and he's not sure when it happened.
Not sure if he minds, though.
When Newt brings the plate to the table, Alby does look up at him then, expression softening even as he tries to hold it at bay. ] Surprise me.
no subject
and then alby came along, and the future got a little brighter. it's better to think "i made it" when you have someone to live for, something to do. keeps the sadness out.
he shouldn't act on it and he knows he shouldn't. they're so close, though, alby's right there; when he turned towards him to say that, it left them maybe a couple of inches apart. but newt can't resist, can't anymore. in that scant space it's easy to think about his employer and his friend, a person who has seen him at his worst and his best, brought him out of bed when he was miserable and showed him some kind of light, a little bit of happiness in this cruel, fucked up world. he says "surprise me" and newt does.
he tips forward and kisses him. ]
no subject
So he doesn't react with shock, when Newt kisses him. Because Newt became his thing to live for, beyond his company.
Instead, he reaches his hand up, spoon clattering down to the table, so that he can hook it behind his neck and keep him from going anywhere. Knowing his cook like he does, the one that gets down on himself sometimes and has the biggest heart he's ever seen, he figures that if he doesn't pull him in he's going to try and pull back.
He doesn't want that. At least, not before he can kiss him back. ]
no subject
he just melts into it, the hand on his shoulder curls into his tank, instead, fingers clutching in the fabric for a moment before he lets go, finds his cheek and cups his face, instead. if newt pulls away, it'll be too soon, and he sighs into his mouth, this tiny, relieved thing. more than anything else, he was scared. he's had a thing for alby almost since the day they met, and it only got worse over time, with newt dropping his head into his hands at a bar with a beer in hand and moaning about how attractive and perfect alby is, how completely out of his league he is, too. they balance each other, he thinks, with everything from looks to personality to finances.
although, right now, all he can really think about is the soft mouth pressed to his. he could clamber into alby's lap from this position but he doesn't, just. slowly pulls away, just a little, his cheeks flushing pink. what do you even say after that? i've loved you for months?
he settles on a soft-- ] Bloody hell. [ and breaks into a little bit of a smile. ]
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This was never meant to happen, he's sure. But it's natural as anything, so he has no complaints whatsoever. Not when he can finally give into the urge to kiss him, to touch in more than just a passing friendliness, something that's not even close to what he's been really wanting to do.
He fell in love with his food, then he fell in love with him just as easily.
Looking up at him as Newt pulls back, Alby has to resist following after him. Instead, his hand slips down, dropping to his hip as a small laugh leaves him. ] Yeah.
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still, he swallows the lump of butterflies in his throat and tries to tamp down on his smile, but newt mostly fails. he does draw his hand away from his face, finally, hesitantly curling his hands in the air before he sets one down on the chair. boundaries?? ] Probably shouldn't've....sorry.
[ he doesn't sound that sorry. ]
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Nothin' to be sorry for. [ Even if he doesn't sound apologetic, really.
Bringing his free hand up, he slides it along the length of Newt's arm, easy and casual. Like they've been doing it for months or even years. Slowly, he goes to his thin wrist, taking it between his fingers before he goes to take his hand itself. There's no real reason for it except for him to take it, to hold it, feeling the delicate bones of his fingers with a passing brush of his thumb over his knuckles. ]
no subject
even more so when he holds his hand like that. newt exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding and looks at their joined hands, feeling something inside of him leap and thrill as his thumb brushes his knuckles. quietly, he asks-- ] You sure about that?
[ because he has to wait for the other shoe to drop. it's going to, sooner or later. ]