crush imagines (he/him crush)

elevator part 1 (request)

A/N: hey! the (m) symbol means this story is mature, and I may bleed into smut or just sexual territory so readers beware! also, in this one, the crush is unaddressed, so they aren't dating. This one is also specific to male crushes.

(edited 10.24.22)

I pulled into the mostly empty parking lot, eyes adjusting to the dim, cool lighting. As per usual, I parked as close to the elevators as possible. 

Getting to work early was the only way to maintain my sanity throughout the day. I relished in being the first to use the coffee machine, the first to use the bathroom, the first to open my laggy computer. I liked the silent office, my only companion the ticking clock. 

I slid out of my car, eyeing the only other car in the lot as I slammed the door. It was always here before mine, far from the elevator in the deepest, darkest part of the first level. I spent my free time peeking around the office and strolling around the building at large, making guesses as to who it was that drove the old black Nissan. I figured it was a man, as no woman in her right mind would park in the darkest section of an underground parking lot. I imagined he'd work in IT, and he'd scour the dark depths of the internet in his free time. He'd get a sandwich in the food court, instead of the gourmet fusion options, and he'd go home to a black cat, his sole roommate. 

Finally, I let my gaze shift to the elevators and headed towards them. 

Inside the little waiting area, a man leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on his phone. He didn't acknowledge me, and I took that as an opportunity to take in his unbothered stance, the way his hair fell onto his forehead, and how his left foot leaned against the wall. 

He looked up after a moment, his eyes meeting mine, and nodded upwards. The nod was slow and deliberate, unlike most of the quick nods I'd receive in these situations. I smiled and nodded back, and he turned back to his phone. 

After around three minutes of complete silence, I itched to speak.

"Um...is the elevator..."

He took a high tech earbud (which I hadn't previously noticed) out of his ear and glanced at the elevator. 

"Yeah, the building said it's been having a bit of trouble lately. Might take a second, I think they've been doing some maintenance." 

"Oh," I said, nodding slowly until the nods faded back into my neutral neck position. The stranger didn't put his earbuds back in. Instead, he deposited them into their case and popped the case and his phone into his pocket. 

A loud thump sounded from the elevator, making both of us jump.

"You might want to take the stairs," he chuckled. A second thump made us jump again, and we laughed harder. 

"I'm assuming you're the black Nissan?" I said, trying to hide the fact that the steep flights of stairs were killing my lungs. 

"That's my girl," he smiled, several steps ahead of me. "The first car I bought with my own money." 

"Is it a good car?"

He laughed. "It's a load of shit. But it's my shit."

I laughed, my face heating with pride at the prospect of a stranger feeling comfortable cursing in front of me. 

"So, why do you like getting here so early?" I asked, finally catching up to him, out of breath. "There really isn't much to do."

"I like being the first to use the—"

"—Coffee machine," I finished, confident in my assumption.

He raised an eyebrow at me and I looked at my shoes.

"Yeah. The coffee machine." He squinted at me for a moment, then continued walking. 

I couldn't help staring across the hall at the graphic design office. What were the chances that we'd both be receptionists on the fourteenth floor? That we'd sit at desks that faced each other, separated only by two glass walls and a hallway? I convinced myself it must have been fate. 

I'd never suspected him. He seemed to professional, too poised, and I'd always imagined him having a souped-up Tesla and a supermodel girlfriend. Yet here he was, my Nissan man, dressed in his iron shirt and slacks that left all too little to the imagination.

We started a little game at some point—I'd pick up the phone, and as soon as I put it down, he'd pick his up. I'd leave to grab something from the printer, and as soon as I sat down, he'd leave. At lunch, he only left to get his when I left. By the end of the day, I was just toying with him, stepping out of his view for a moment only to return a moment later, and doing ridiculous things like standing in tree pose for three minutes straight. 

Wrapped up in the action, I passively waved goodbye to all of my perplexed colleagues as they left for home, and humored him with the silly back and forth until I was the only one left. 

I wasn't used to the dark office, nor being all alone, so I quickly collected my belongings and pranced out of the glass doors. Like a mirror image, he did the same. The automatic lights flickered out in our respective offices behind us, leaving only the two of us illuminated by the dim, fluorescent hall lights. We both stood there, waiting for the other to make a move. Finally, he strode towards the elevator and pressed the down button, his eyes never leaving mine. And we waited, a fair distance away from each other yet oh so close. 

The doors slid open and we just looked at each other. He raised his eyebrows at me, expectant. I raised my eyebrows back. 

"Shall we?" he said, holding an arm out towards the elevator like a doorman, beckoning me inside. 

"We shall," I responded with a tremble in my voice, feeling the elevator move slightly as he stepped in besides me. He clicked the parking level 1 button with the knuckle of his thumb and we both turned to look in the mirror. Our eyes met, then looked away, at our own reflections. 

And the elevator began its descent.