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youvebeenlivingfictional · 10 months

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Year One (II)

Part Five of Three Years

Year Three | Masterlist |

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only.

Length: 8.5K

Notes: ….Hi! It’s the final part!! And only a week late!!! Thank you for reading 💖

Warnings: Cursing; angst; enemies to enemies who fuck to lovers; tech-talk; angst (I know I said it before but really); Nathan being Nathan; vaginal sex; fingering; creampie; choking; oral sex (male and female receiving)

Summary: Keeping Bateman off your mind isn’t so difficult, once you get down to it. Sure, there’s a little a bit of a lull. At the start, hearing him on the odd conference call throws you off for a few moments. In the midst of taking notes, your mind will flash to the sound of him grunting low in your ear, the memory of the press of his body against yours, and the phantom weight of his hand heavy on your throat.

BlueBook’s campus is stunningly large and confusing. Sc(ai)le is a far smaller operation, and is likely to remain so, and you’d been certain when you signed the contract that this vast new environment would be well out of your realm of familiarity. But receiving a map for the BlueBook campus along with your other documentation for orientation made your stomach churn. The differences are staggering. BlueBook’s Silicon Valley office has four separate buildings. 3/4ths of the parking lot is designed for electric vehicles; regular vehicles have parking furthest from the main building. There are multiple cafeterias and cafés on the premises. There are designated nap rooms.

Maybe it’s an archaic approach, but you go out of your way to print out the map that was sent to you ahead of your first day. When you pull up for work your first morning, you are insanely happy that you did. You stop in the lobby once you get your badge, eyeing the print-out as people simply stride past you like you aren’t even there. You’re almost alright with that. You don't really want to explain who you are to some random BlueBook employee as you ask for help. But this behavior also lays the company’s culture plain. If you were at Sc(ai)le, at least one person would stop and ask if you needed help. Here, moving into a junior leadership position, you’re completely invisible.

“Sooo, how are the new digs?”

“...They’re fine,” You fib to Jenn, looking around at the office. It’s not a complete lie; they’re not bad. Your name is on the door; the size is about the same as your old office. But where your office at Sc(ai)le had been bright and open, this feels…Closed in. It doesn’t have the same fishtank quality, and where your old office had initially left you feeling exposed, this office makes you feel like you’re sitting in a file box on a shelf somewhere. There’s a window behind you, but it faces another building, and doesn’t let in nearly the same amount of light as your previous office.

“Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh?” You frown, “What ‘uh-oh’?”

“I know that tone. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it!”

“You sure? I don’t wanna brag, but I know the guy in charge, and I can put in a good word.”

“Oh, yeah,” You scoff a laugh, “Bring my problem to Bateman for me, that’s all I need.”

Jenn goes quiet for a few seconds before she hedges, “I thought you guys were better now.”

You raise your hand, scrubbing it across the back of your neck as you fight back a sigh.

“We are,” You insist, “I just mean, you know…Even if Bateman did like me, this would so put me on his shit list. And I need to watch my step around here. It’s different now.”

“Yeah,” Jenn agrees, “It is.”

You can hear the creaking of her office chair, and practically picture her twisting back and forth in it.

“Can we do dinner at the end of this week?” You ask, hoping that she won’t call you on the subject change. “I want all of the dirt, you know. Hear how it’s going with my fearless leadership.”

“Sure.” It’s a relief as her tone shifts, as you can practically hear her smile. “Friday? Saturday? Sunday?”

“Friday, please. I’m guessing I’ll need all weekend to recover.”

“You’re damn right,” She chuckles. “Friday it is.”

“I’ll text you some options before I make any reservations.”

“Sounds good.”

“Alright. Have a good day, Jenn.”

“You, too, girlie.”

You smile, lowering your phone and hanging up. You’re about to set it on the desk when your phone flashes with another call. You grimace at the sight of the contact, despite the way that your stomach flutters. You consider not answering it at all—and then swipe to answer it right before it can go to voicemail.

“Took you long enough.” Nathan doesn’t give you a chance to say a thing before he’s filling your ear. “Who were you talking to?”

“Excuse me?”

“I got a busy signal twice.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I wanna know.”

“Well that’s too damn bad.”

“I could take a guess.”

“Feel free.”

“...”

“Well?”

“I’ve decided I don’t care.”

“Do you have a reason for calling me?”

“Figured I’d check in, day one and all that.”

“Nothing to report so far.”

“Really.”

“Nope. Had two whole meetings and got my email set up.”

“Well look at you, you little overachiever. Usually people don’t get their email set up until their second day.”

“You know me, I like to hit the ground running.”

“Mhm. Listen, I’m gonna be in town this weekend—”

“Okay—”

“—So I’ll put something on your calendar.”

“For what reason?”

“To check-in.”

“I think check-ins like this are just fine.”

“I may as well see you while I’m in town.”

“What for?”

“It’s customary to take a new hire in leadership for dinner.” A pause. Then, “Why else would I want to see you?”

You lean back in your seat, fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs together. The way he leads you into this question shouldn’t send tingles through your body. You’d forgone Bateman’s invitation to visit him before your stint at BlueBook had started, and haven’t been with him—or anyone—in a few weeks. Still, you’ve had longer dry spells.

“I don’t know,” You pass off breezily. “You tell me.”

“I don’t miss you,” He laughs. You think that he may mean for it to sound cruel, but you’ve come to know him a little too well, and he shockingly just manages to miss that mark.

“Good,” You lean back in your seat a little more. “I don’t miss you, either.”

“Good.”

“And I’m afraid I have plans this weekend, so unless you’re planning on adding some kind of bonus or overtime on this, I won’t be joining you.”

A weighty pause, a truly stomach-churning beat before, “Fine.”

He practically yawns it.

“Great,” You pronounce crisply. “I have a meeting to get to, so—”

“That’s funny, so do I—”

“I’m gonna hop off—”

“—Happy to give you some time back.”

“Great.”

“Sure.”

You draw the phone back from your ear again, rolling your eyes as his contact flashes, then disappears. Happy to give you some time back—the audacity. As if he'd put an actual meeting on your calendar for that useless call. You lean a little further back in your chair, then flail and hurriedly straighten before it can fully tip backward. Yikes, that was close. You puff out a panicked breath as you settle, tossing your phone onto the desk.

He doesn’t miss you. Good! That’s good. You don’t miss him either. You don’t want him to miss you. You don’t need him to miss you.

You need…To charge your vibrator. You could get on the dating apps again. It’s been a while. The last time you bothered was before you joined Sc(ai)le. Maybe the dating landscape isn’t as bad as it used to be.

You wince, shifting in your seat. You already know that you’re kidding yourself. There’s no way the apps are a good option now. They were barely a good option then. You’ll just have to up your vibrator game. There’s one you’ve had your eye on for a while, anyway. Nothing better to get with your signing bonus.

Keeping Bateman off your mind isn’t so difficult, once you get down to it. Sure, there’s a little a bit of a lull. At the start, hearing him on the odd conference call throws you off for a few moments. In the midst of taking notes, your mind will flash to the sound of him grunting low in your ear, the memory of the press of his body against yours, and the phantom weight of his hand heavy on your throat. The first few times, you swallow thickly and reach for your coffee, or water, washing down the thought. Slowly, though, you manage to put a wall up. The Bateman on the phone isn’t the same guy that had fucked you, or the same guy that you slapped.

Okay, well, technically, he is.

But this is Business Bateman. This guy is no longer at least one level removed from your day-to-day. You’d been fucked by Bastard Bateman—Banker Bateman, even. This Bateman isn’t teasing any of you over the phone during team meetings. There aren’t hefty pauses for effect, or to bait you into answering him first. He’s to-the-point. He doesn't wait for answers; he demands them.

After a couple of months, you manage to convince yourself that you prefer it this way. You tell yourself that you don’t miss Nathan. You don’t miss his cock, his teasing, or smacking his smug fucking face. It really is better this way. Your life is almost back to normal. Your friendship with Jenn is on a positive trend. You manage to see her at least every other week, and your smiles at the mention of Nathan’s name gradually become less forced.

The shift is critical. Despite your relative proximity, you feel far less tense on a day to day basis. Sure, there’s an itch that just isn’t being scratched for you right now—but you’re not bracing for whatever shit Bateman may pull next, or operating with a fear that Jenn may learn just how much time you actually spend with Nathan. It still weighs on you, though. There are moments when you feel the heavy truth of it on your tongue, and you consider telling her—but the conversation otherwise feels so bright, and so easy, and you can’t bring yourself to shatter the moment.

You’re certain Nathan hasn’t told her, either—if he had, you’d know by now. Jenn doesn’t shield her feelings well from anyone, but especially not from you. You know that her crush is still affecting her in full-force, but as far as you know, she hasn’t acted on it. The conversations about Bateman becoming part of the board would’ve backed off by now if she had. If anything, those have increased.

Worse, from what she’s been telling you, you think that he may be considering it. You’re in no place to influence business on either end anymore. You don’t want to buzz in Jenn’s ear, insist that she take more time to think about this. She’s been thinking about this move for three years now. You don’t want buzz in Nathan’s ear about it, either. Whatever you tell him to do, you’re certain he’ll do the exact opposite to spite you. The only thing worse than impacting Jenn’s company negatively from the inside is managing to negatively impact it after you’ve left. Sc(ai)le’s direction is none of your business anymore. You need to make peace with that.

“Knock knock.”

You can’t help but look up, stunned. You haven’t heard his voice over anything but a phone for nearly six months. That’s sort of your fault—he did offer to take you to dinner. But you didn’t trust him then. You almost don’t trust his appearance now. Frankly, seeing him shouldn’t be such surprise. You work at his company, after all. But this little sneak-attack is something that you haven’t been treated to in a very long time.

“Hi there,” He adds, and you realize that you’ve done nothing but stare at him.

“Hi,” You manage. “You here for a talk or are you just stopping by?”

“Just stopping by.” He pushes himself off of the door frame, and you turn back to your laptop as he takes lazy, drifting steps around your office. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the snug fit of his polo shirt, and the swell of his ass beneath his—sweatpants. The man wore sweatpants to his own office. You can’t help but shake your head a little as you come to that realization, turning fully back to your screen.

“You here for the All Hands?” You ask.

“Yup.”

“Surprised you’re not zooming in as usual.”

“I happened to be in town, figured I may as well make an appearance.”

“In sweatpants?” The indignant shock slips out before you can stop it. He just snorts, amused.

“I have a change of clothes in my office.”

Of course he does.

“So,” He rounds your desk, leaning against it and watching you work, “How do you like it?”

“The work? It’s fine.”

“Better or worse than Sc(ai)le?”

“Not better or worse. Just different.”

He watches you for a few moments longer. “But BlueBook is better, right?”

You roll your eyes a little bit, biting back a smile.

“If it helps you sleep at night, Nathan, yes. BlueBook is better.”

“I knew it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m telling Jenn.”

“She’ll never believe you.”

“...Do you still have that policy?”

You immediately know exactly what he’s asking about, but you let out a confused, questioning hum.

“Not sure what you mean.”

“Really.”

“You’re going to have to refresh my memory.”

You hear the soft huff of Nathan’s laugh, and the slight hush of him pushing off of your desk. You’re certain that he’ll just leave, but Nathan rests one hand on your desk, and the other on the back of your chair as he leans over you.

“Well I’ve been told,” You shiver as his breath brushes your neck, “That you don’t fuck your boss.”

“Oh, that policy.”

“Mm.”

“That one is still in place.”

“Really.”

“Firmly.”

“That’s too bad,” Nathan sighs.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You’re fired.”

“Sure.” You don’t even flinch. You know that he’s not serious. At least…You’re pretty sure.

“Pack it up.”

“Can I send this email first.” You glance back toward him, and feel a touch of relief when you find him smiling warmly at you. You shake your head a little, turning back to the screen as you fight off your own smile.

“Thought you said I wasn’t irresistible,” You remind him.

“You’re not.”

“And that you don’t miss me.”

“...I don’t.”

The pause makes your stomach flip. You swipe your tongue across your lips, considering.

“In town for long?” You ask.

“The next week.”

“Alright.”

“So?”

“So…” You shrug, “Maybe I'll quit BlueBook for the weekend.”

“Just the weekend?”

“Maybe.”

“Hm.”

“You can’t expect me to…Quit for longer than that.”

“You haven’t taken any vacation days, have you?”

You scoff, turning toward him fully.

“Excuse me, but I might have plans for that.”

“Do you?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’m making it my business.”

“The weekend.”

“The week.”

“The—I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can.”

“It’s too short notice! I’d have to work out coverage.”

“Then work it out.” Your stomach swoops as Bateman leans in a touch closer, his gaze sweeping from your eyes to linger on your lips. “Call in sick today after the All Hands and we’ll get a head start.”

“You’re trying to get me in trouble.”

“You’re making it harder than you need to.”

“Your cock or your plan?”

Nathan grins.

“Would it shock you if I said both?”

“Not one bit.”

“Good.” He grips your jaw, giving it a squeeze before he lets go and straightens, turning away. “Block off your calendar. I’ll send you the address.”

You lean back in your seat, unable to help watching him as he leaves. You wait for him to turn back, to shoot you a smile or a wink, to tell you that he’s kidding—but he doesn’t say or do a thing as he goes. You bite your lip, hesitantly turning toward your laptop again and opening your calendar. The next week doesn’t look…Too busy. There are a few status calls that you’re not necessarily needed on. The deliverables that you have could be shifted, and surely in the next week, you’ll have some time to yourself. You can bring your work laptop home with you. You wince. You’ve done a pretty good job of keeping your work out of your apartment. But hell, it’s been three and a half years. If you’re only starting to take your work home with you now, that’s pretty good.

You have 20 PTO days. Are you seriously going to take five of them just to be at Bateman’s beck and call?

You don’t even make it to his place before it starts.

You can’t focus through the All Hands; you’re distracted. You can’t get your head together. You sit there, going back and forth and back and forth on whether or not taking this time off is actually a good idea. You could always take the time and then go back to the office if you decide that this just isn’t working for you. But then, Nathan might talk you into staying with him for a few more days.

How the hell did he talk you into this in the first place?

You desperately try to swallow against your drying throat, glancing around. Everyone is engaged with what Bateman is saying up front, or splitting their attention between their laptops and phones, still answering emails and slack messages while Bateman fills them in on funding updates and the state of the company. You ought to be focusing, too, but you suddenly feel so—hot. It’s not sexy, either. It’s like your skin is prickling from the inside. You scrub your sweaty palms against the fabric of work jeans, shifting uncomfortably in your—in your seat—

You push yourself up, mumbling your apologies as you squeeze past the other people in the aisle. You don’t look back as you hurry toward the door at the back of the conference space, even as your ears catch on Nathan’s comments that the latest BlueBookTab is set to complete its final round of QA by the end of Q2.

You wind your way through the halls, your stomach twisting with discomfort. You already put in for your time off, cited the fact that you were sick. Surely your hasty exit would’ve lent credence to that—but maybe you could still retract that PTO request. Or maybe you could—Hell, what can you do?

You reach your office and draw in a relieved breath at the complete silence and calm. Water, you need water. You take up your water bottle, taking a greedy swig. You must’ve had too much coffee this morning, maybe that’s why you feel so—blegh, so weird. Or maybe it’s a sign. If you feel this uneasy, this unsure about spending time with Nathan, it must mean that your time likely wouldn’t be such a good idea, anyway. You can tell Nathan that. You can calmly, rationally tell Nathan that you’ve changed your mind. He won’t care—

“What’s going on?”

You whirl around at the sound of his question. Nathan looks almost bored, and sounds mildly perplexed.

“What are you,” You wave back toward the door, “What about the All Hands?”

“It’s finished.”

“...Oh.”

“Yeah. You ran out, like, right before I wrapped things up. Did you pay any attention to the agenda?”

“Not really, no.”

“Why did I even hire you,” Nathan chuckles, kicking the door shut behind himself.

“You tell me,” You bite out. Nathan rolls his eyes, further rankling the irritated nerves in your belly.

“Relax, sweetheart. It was a joke.”

“It wasn’t for me.”

“You want me to tell you?” His brows raise as he walks closer. “You’re kidding me.”

“And if I’m not?”

“What’s wrong with you?” He presses. You push a short breath out through your nose, shaking your head as you search for the words.

“I’m just—” You clear your throat. “I’m having some second thoughts.”

“About?”

“This.”

“BlueBook?”

“This,” You clarify, waggling the finger between the two of you.

“If you’re that worried about coverage, bring your laptop with you.”

“Then what’s the point in leaving the office? Look,” You groan, “I’m sure you can find someone else to fuck.”

“Sure I can. I have.”

It’s like a slap in the face. You stare at him for a moment, stunned.

“I—Then—” You splutter, “Why—? Are you with someone?”

“Not with,” He plops into a chair. “Just…You know.”

“No, I don’t know, Nathan. That’s why I’m asking.”

“The hell does it matter to you, huh? Why are you so hung up on this?”

“I’m not, I’m just—”

“—You clearly are—”

“I just want—Fuck, I don’t know, if you’re like, dating someone, I don’t wanna insert myself in whatever the hell mess that would be.”

“I told you, I’m not with anyone,” He repeats boredly. “Satisfied?”

You consider for a moment. Are you? You’re not sure you are. You were having reservations before he mentioned that he had found someone else to screw around with.

“...No,” You finally determine, shaking your head. “I’m not.”

“Fuck,” Nathan groans, tipping his head back before he pushes himself up out of the chair. “Alright, forget it. I don’t know when the hell you got so fucking boring.”

“Excuse me?”

“What, is your listening comprehension going, too?”

“Fuck you!”

“You had your chance, sweetheart.”

“You wanna say that to my fucking face, Bateman?”

Seeing him stop just a few steps from the door and whirl around to you makes your hair stand on end.

“Which part did you miss, huh?” He spits as he grows closer, “Where’d I fucking lose you?”

“You haven’t had me since day one, you self-centered, self-righteous asshole—” You suck in a breath as he roughly grips your jaw, shutting you up. Your heart pounds in your chest as Nathan presses close, backing you up against the harsh edge of your desk. You raise your hands, grasping Nathan’s wrist so roughly that your nails bite into his skin. His lips twitch with a contentious smile as his hips shift against yours.

“I haven’t had you since day one where, honey? Here?” He asks in a low, cruel murmur. He nudges you back to sit on the desk before he tips his head, eyes searching yours. “This is my company, sweetheart. My name’s on the fucking door. I’ve had you the entire goddamn time.”

His mouth covers yours before you can gripe or argue. You groan at the contact, only allowing yourself to savor it for a few moments before you bite down harshly on his plump lower lip. Nathan’s hand slips from your jaw, smoothing down to squeeze around the sides of your neck. You whimper, reaching out to grasp and twist the fabric of his collar, hauling him closer. Bateman draws back with a slick sound, peering at you as he squeezes just a little harder. Your lips remain parted, heaving in tight breaths as stars begin to crowd your eyes. You hear a sharp whine, and it’s a moment before you realize that the sound came from you. Nathan tuts and shushes you softly as he loosens his grasp.

“There’s no lock on that door,” He murmurs, “You want everyone to come in? See you spreading your legs for me like this?”

You hurriedly shake your head, and his smile widens.

“Then I guess we better occupy that mouth of yours.”

It’s a risk that you never would’ve taken in Sc(ai)le’s offices. Those hadn’t been even remotely private—if anyone had walked past when you and Bateman were there before, they would’ve seen you. Now, unless someone knocks on your door and comes in, no one will know.

Still, your position doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. If any one walked in now, they’d see Nathan’s bare ass, and your hands grasping his hips as he thrusts into your mouth.

Your hold on him is fairly futile. With his hand on the crown of your head, you have little range of motion. You’re hardly moving, just holding your mouth open as he thrusts roughly between your lips. Your eyes water as you peer up at him, as you watch his tongue swipe across his lips, his gaze dark as he watches you. He shoves his hips forward harder still, and you struggle to recoil as you gag, as he keeps your head locked in position. He finally lets up, and you sway backward, coughing roughly as you swipe to clear away the spit that’s leaked along the sides of your lips. You watch Nathan chuckle, grasping his slickened shaft. Your thighs twitch, sending a tingling through your wet, neglected cunt. Before he can ask—before he can demand it, or say a word, you kneel up again, taking the head of his cock between your lips. He huffs out a soft laugh, hips twitching before his hand smoothed over your cheek, thumb sweeping across your cheekbone.

“Yeah,” He coos, “I missed you, too, sweetheart.”

You groan, sinking your nails into the meat of his thigh as you swipe your tongue along the veined underside.

“You hungry?”

You don’t answer right away, and maybe that’s why he presses, “Hey.” You feel him sweep his hand along your naked lower back. It makes you sag even deeper into the mattress. “You alright?”

You draw in a deep breath, leaving your eyes closed as you consider. You are aching, and sated. You feel fucked-out, and cozy, and…

“Yeah,” You finally mumble, though it’s a herculean effort. Your tongue feels heavy, and your lips feel oddly…Gluey. “I could eat.”

You feel the bed dip, and hear the sound of his feet padding across his bedroom floor. It’s chased by the rumble of a drawer opening, and you wince as it’s then slammed shut. You roll onto your belly from your side, turning your head from the thud as another drawer is opened. You feel the bed dip again a moment later.

“Here,” He urges, dropping some clothes within reach. “Should’ve stopped by yours to get some clothes.”

“...Mmm.”

You hear him chuckle, and feel his hand on your cheek.

“Open your eyes for me.”

You finally do, blinking up at him where he’s leaning against the headboard. It shouldn’t be such a warm sight, considering the struggle in your office, but a tired smile unwittingly pulls at your lips.

“Do we have water?” You mumble.

“No. I’m a billionaire without access to water.”

“Shut up,” You groan, pushing yourself back onto your back and squinting up at the harsh lighting. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Almost nine.”

“...In the..?”

“Evening.”

“Mm.”

“Here.”

You look up as you hear the crisp crack of a water bottle being opened. You push yourself back just a little, settling your head on his thigh and taking hold of the proffered bottle and cap.

“Don’t spill it,” He mutters.

“I won’t.” Probably. Maybe you will, just to spite him. God knows how many bedrooms he has, you can probably find somewhere else to sleep. You draw in a greedy gulp, then another. It’s so cool; you didn’t realize how thirsty you were.

“Slow down,” Nathan counsels boredly as he takes his phone up from the bedside table. “You start choking on it, I’m just gonna laugh.”

“You usually laugh when I choke,” You mumble, lowering the water. He huffs softly, nodding.

“That’s true. What do you wanna eat?”

“I don’t know. What do you have here?”

“I’m gonna order something.”

“Oh.” You think for a moment before you tip your head back to look at him. “What are you hungry for?”

“Think we both know what I’m hungry for.”

“That’s not hot, it just sounds cannibalistic.”

“Don’t get too close to my phone, Clarice.”

“Fuck, your Hopkins needs work.”

“So?”

“Grilled cheese,” You finally decide, closing your eyes again. “With bacon and tomato.”

“‘Kay.”

“And a chocolate milkshake.”

“Alright.”

“And fries.”

“Thought the fries were implied.”

“Just confirming.”

“Cheese fries or regular fries?”

“Mmm…Regular.”

“Drink your water.”

You raise your hand obediently, taking another few sips. You hear Nathan set his phone down on the bedside table after a few moments.

“You wanna get cleaned up?” He asks, smoothing his fingers down your throat.

“Not yet.”

“Alright.”

You feel Nathan’s hand rest over your throat for a moment before he lets his touch drift lower.

“Should see if I have a turtleneck in here,” He comments.

“Why?”

“You’re bruising.”

You open your eyes, surprised as you wave toward your throat. He nods, smoothing his knuckles gently along the sides of your neck. You bite your lip, considering.

“Was I too rough?” He asks.

You shake your head.

“You sure?”

You nod.

“I need to hear it,” He insists. You huff softly, capping the water and setting aside. You push yourself up on slightly shaky arms before pressing yourself into Nathan’s side. It seems like his arm curls around your waist on instinct as you nuzzle against his neck.

“You weren’t too rough,” You murmur. “Okay? If I’d wanted you to stop, I would’ve told you to.”

You feel Nathan nod slightly, his hand splaying on your waist. You close your eyes, resting against him.

“Maybe we should establish a safeword, though,” You offer after a moment.

“Sure. Jenn.”

“What?”

“The safeword.”

You reel away, socking Nathan in the shoulder as he grins smugly at you. It’s a stupid decision—your head spins from moving too fast. You rest that same hand on Nathan’s shoulder to steady yourself as you grumble, “That is not even remotely funny.”

“C’mere,” Nathan urges. “You’re gonna make yourself sick, moving like that.”

“Your fault,” You mumble, though you cuddle up against him again.

“Uh-huh.” Nathan turns his head, nuzzling against your hair.

“...Crypto,” You finally say.

“You want your safeword to be crypto?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I hate it and it’s something I’ll remember.”

Nathan snorts a laugh before you feel him nod.

“Crypto it is.” He smooths his hand up your back, rubbing in small circles. You let your eyes slip shut again, allowing yourself to relax as the pressure in your head drops away. It’s strange. Even when you and Nathan fucked around before, it wasn’t quite like this. Sure, you had moments when he’d keep close, or when you didn’t get up right away, but you never made an effort to cuddle up, and he never made it a point to keep you this close. He used to relish in your discomfort, not try to lessen it.

It’s almost frightening how long it took for you to shut him out during your time at BlueBook, and how quickly you let him back in. It took one evening for him to unravel you, beyond the bounds of your prior…What could you call it? Association? Relationship?

“Drink your water,” He urges again. You shift a little reluctantly, leaning away from him to take hold of the bottle before leaning against him again. You yawn widely as you unscrew the cap, taking another few sips. You hold it up questioningly, and Nathan takes it, drawing in his own gulp before pressing it back into your hands.

He hovers.

Maybe it shouldn't be such a surprise, considering how depleted you were before you got out of bed, but you never expected Nathan to be the type to…Hover. You can feel him watching you as you settle on a seat at his kitchen island, resting your chin on your hand and fighting back a yawn. You can hear him unpacking the food, popping the containers lids before pushing a few over toward you.

“Here,” He urges. “Sit up.”

“Ugh,” You groan, pushing yourself and opening your eyes. “Is there a straw for the milkshake?”

Nathan pokea through the bag for a moment before he throws one toward you. You flinch, fumbling to catch it before ripping off the wrapping and jabbing it into the lid.

“Thanks.”

“Mm.”

You pull in a taste, shoulders wiggling with joy as the sweetness sweeps across your tongue. You reach out, opening the container and picking up a couple of fries. You glance over as Nathan leans against the counter across from you.

“What’d you get?” You ask, nodding toward him.

“Veggie burger.”

You hum, popping the fries between your lips. You have to fight the urge to cram a few more in before you’ve even finished chewing. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were.

“Still having second thoughts?” Bateman asks. You frown, and he clarifies: “About this week.”

You press your lips into a thin line as you consider. You pop the lid off the milkshake, dipping one of the fries inside and swirling it around.

“Not in the same way,” You admit.

“What’s still tripping you up?”

“...I never told Jenn.”

You can feel Nathan’s gaze as you reach for half of your grilled cheese.

“Never told Jenn what?” He asks.

“Anything, about, you know. This.”

“You need to?”

“No! No, not need, no,” You shake your head, “But…I’m a shit friend, you know. She likes you.”

It’s not fair to tip her hand like this, without her knowledge, but there’s no way that Bateman doesn’t know this by now, right? Still, it’s a moment before he lets out a grunt.

“What?” You sigh.

“Nothing.”

“It’s clearly something.”

“She didn’t tell you.”

“Didn’t tell me what?”

“Remember when I said that I found someone else to fuck?”

It’s like he’s dumped a bucket of water over your head. You freeze mid-chew, gobsmacked, your heart dropping into your stomach as Bateman reaches out, snagging a few of your fries as if he didn’t just turn your world upside.

“...Uh…” You shake your head, “I didn’t—I had no—When?”

“I don’t know, last year?”

Last year. You shake your head a little, trying to knock a response loose.

“Wu—uh…When?”

“After your party.”

“The party where you asked me to come stay with you for a week?”

“Yeah. But you didn’t, so.”

“So you fucked Jenn because I didn’t fuck you.”

“I fucked Jen when you didn’t fuck me. You weren’t the implicit cause. That make you feel better?”

“A little, yeah, I guess. But that doesn’t uh—weird feeling. This is a weird feeling.”

“I’m a little surprised she didn’t tell you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, me, too.”

You reach for the milkshake, slugging back a gulp and wincing as brain freeze sets in.

“You gonna get all weird about it?” Nathan asks.

“I’m not—No. No, I’m not making this weird. I’m not gonna let this get weird. We’re gonna fuck.”

“If you’re sure.”

“All week, I mean we are gonna do it. A lot,” You insist, pointing at him. Nathan’s lips twitch in amusement.

“Alright,” He concedes, holding his hands up, “Jeez. Long as you leave it attached.”

“...Did you ever mention this to her?” You ask, waving between the two of you again.

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Are you going to?”

“If I do, I’ll give you a heads up.”

“Whatever.”

“Was it just the one time?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

That shouldn’t make you feel superior or good, but…Well, it kinda does. You and Jenn haven’t had a tug of war over Nathan, per se, not personally. It sounds like what they had was a one night stand than a real relationship.

Still, it’s her business, and her…Business.

“Cut it out.”

“What?” You blink, frowning.

“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.”

“Oh—Shut up,” You gripe, throwing a fry at him. He smiles, picking it up from where it lands limply on the counter.

“So?” He asks, “Are you staying?”

The two of you don’t spend the entire time in bed. It’s just not physically possible, and the two of you do need breaks every now and again. Neither of you can draw yourself entirely away from work, either. You manage to contain it. You don’t let it creep into the rest of the house. You make a little space for yourself in his office, curling up in the corner of the couch and hunching over your screen and keyboard. Your time off is approved, but you still answer a few emails a day, and dial into a few status calls, just to keep up to date with what’s going on with your team. Nathan spends a fair bit of time working, too. You’re fascinated by the wall practically papered in post-its, even more fascinated still as you actually watch him work.

For all of Bateman’s pointed teasing and distraction while you worked with one another at Sc(ai)le, he has laser-focus when he’s working on BlueBook. You don’t take the same pains to annoy him as he had with you. You’re too interested in the way that he iterates, how he conducts himself when speaking to other staff members, how he occasionally mutters to himself as he makes notes. While you’re working, it’s like you’re hardly there. He’ll catch your eye every now and again, but for the most part, he leaves you to your own devices. A time or two, when you’re dialing into the same meeting, Nathan dials in and brings his phone over to the couch so that the two of you can listen in together.

You shift closer to him when he does, sitting side by side. Whenever Nathan unmutes, you’re careful to keep completely silent. You don’t want anyone to get even a hint that you’re there. It’s not against any company policy, but my god, it would set the team’s tongues wagging.

After one such call, Nathan hangs up, pitching the phone into the other end of the couch and grunting, “Fuckin’ idiots.”

You can’t help but smile.

“You do know that I’m still here, right?” You ask.

“You think I forgot?” Nathan turns to look at you, brows raising, “You gonna tell ‘em?”

“What?”

“You gonna tell ‘em that I think they’re fuckin’ idiots?” He shifts toward you. You shrug, turning back to your laptop and reopening the email that you’d been drafting before the call.

“Probably not.”

“Oh, probably not.”

“Freedom of speech.”

“Freedom of speech protects you from the government, sweetheart. Not from me.”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me from you.”

“No?”

“Nn-nn.”

“You sure about that?”

Before you can answer, Nathan snaps your laptop shut and tosses it to the floor.

“Are you crazy?” You screech as Nathan climbs over you, steering you back onto the couch. You give his chest a shove, but it hardly moves him as he crowds against you. His hands skim up your sides, and you can’t help but grin and squirm against him as his lips cover yours.

You think that time must be mellowing him. You’ve been with Nathan for three days straight, and you can’t help but notice a few…Differences. It goes well beyond the hovering.

He hasn’t kissed you so much since that first night. Nathan seems to almost delight in your kisses now. He takes his time slotting himself between your legs, spreading your thighs wide as his tongue spears past your smiling lips. He doesn’t hurry things along as he used to—though in fairness, these days, you have far more time than you used to. You’re not cuddling up in some dark corner, wary of being seen, or caught. You’re not hurrying out of bed, covering up as quickly as possible and shooing him out to scrub the sweat from your skin.

He doesn’t turn you, shove you into the wall, into the mattress, into the backseat of his car. Now, face to face, he tugs your panties aside and eases his sweatpants down just far enough to draw out his hardened cock, and ease it into your slick, aching pussy. The two of you groan against one another’s lips as he sheathes himself fully inside you. You raise your hands, cupping his cheeks and swirling your tongue along his as he plants his knees against the cushions to gain purchase.

Nathan reaches down and hikes your shirt up as your hips press together. You shiver as he ducks his head, his beard brushing harshly over your pebbling nipple before he takes it into his mouth.

“Fuck, Nate,” You moan, fingers hooking in the fabric of his shirt. He hums, teasing the nipple lightly with his teeth before he draws back. His kisses trail up your neck, brushing over your throat.

“Your bruises are starting to fade,” He murmurs.

“Oh?”

“Mm.”

“Are you gonna fix that?”

Nathan leans up, grinning.

“Maybe later, baby.”

You reach up, shoving at his chest and urging, “Up, get up.”

Nathan shifts back, sitting on the end of the couch and pushing off his sweatpants. You draw your top off and kick away your panties before you clamber onto his lap. You steady a hand on his shoulder, reaching down and grasping his length before easing down onto it. You whine softly as you settle into his lap, as he slides his hands up your back and draws you close. You lean into him, resting your forehead against his as you begin to roll your hips.

“Come on,” Nathan urges, “You can do better than that.”

You laugh a little, resting your hands on the back of the couch.

“I’m doing exactly what I want.”

“I want more.”

“Well that’s too damn ba—ad! Fuck!” You whimper as he grasps your hips, steadying you and snapping his hips up harshly. Your mouth falls open as he takes control of the pace, fucking up into you almost punishingly.

“Nathan, goddamnit,” You breathe as his fingers press more hardly into your hips.

“You close?” He murmurs.

“N-no.”

“Too bad.”

“What do you—mean, oh, you piece of shit,” You whine as Nathan tips his head back, his hips jolting harshly as he spills into you. You reach down to play with your clit, but Nathan shoves your hand away and pushes your hips up. You frown, confused as Nathan slips down, then grin as he shoves the coffee table back. He sends it scattering as he slides down and lowers himself to sit on the floor, resting his head on the cushion and dragging your hips down to his lips. Your fingers flex in the fabric of the cushion as you peer down at Nathan. His tongue swipes across your cunt before he gives your lips a sucking kiss. Your hips quiver as he swipes his tongue against your tingling clit. You grind greedily against his questing tongue and lips, chasing your pleasure.

“Almost,” You warn. Nathan hums against you, hurriedly lapping his tongue against your clit and grasping your hips to draw you even closer. A stunned moan leaves you as he sucks your clit, lashing his tongue against it until you’re shaking, hips rabbiting against him. Nathan moans, tipping his head to and fro and nuzzling your tender flesh as you ride out your orgasm. You push yourself off of him, flopping back onto the couch. It takes Nathan a moment to push himself up, and you groan as he drops himself on top of you.

“Noooo,” You groan, “Get off’a me.”

“Why.”

“I’m all hot and sticky.”

“I know.”

“So are you.”

“I know,” Nathan grins, nuzzling up against you and pressing closer. You whine, kicking your feet irritatedly.

“You’re awful,” You mumble, looping your arms around his shoulders regardless. He grunts, peppering your neck with tender kisses.

“I know that, too.”

“I’m going to have to tell her.”

“Have to?”

You meet Nathan’s eye in the mirror as you dab foundation over the newly blooming bruises on your neck.

“Have to,” You nod.

Nathan leans in the doorway of the bathroom, watching you closely. He seems to be considering it before he nods a little.

“Alright.”

“Are you okay with—”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“What are you going to tell her?”

“That…That we fuck.”

“Okay.”

“What else would I tell her?”

“No, that’s accurate. I was just curious.”

“We can talk about the verbiage—”

“We fuck,” He agrees. “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” You nod, directing your gaze back toward the mirror and pumping some more foundation onto your beauty blender.

“That what you’re going in?”

You glance down toward your outfit—your jeans, and one of Nathan’s t-shirts.

“Yeah,” You shrug. “We’re just grabbing bagels, nothing fancy.”

“Are you gonna be long?”

“Jeez,” You laugh. “No, dad.”

“Hey,” He pushes off of the door frame, sauntering closer. “We’ve only got a couple more days here. I’m heading back soon.”

“I know.”

“So?”

“So I told you, I won’t be long.”

“Good.”

“You’re such a big baby,” You mumble as Nathan cuddles up against your back. You smile as his hands smooth over your hips and belly.

“You’re a goody two-shoes that can’t lie to people.”

“Yeah, god forbid I have a conscience. I’m really not coming up with the short end of the stick here.”

“You aren't coming up with the short end of anything,” Nathan murmurs, rolling his hips against you. You snort, swatting back at him.

“Cut it out, you perv. I’m gonna be late.”

“...Are you going to say anything?”

You don’t think she will for a few long moments. Jenn’s expression is frighteningly unreadable. She roughly swallows the large bite of bagel that she'd taken before she clears her throat, setting the bagel back down.

“Let me get this straight,” She leans back in her seat. “You have spent the last…What, three and a half years telling me, swearing up and down that you hate him—”

“I think ‘swearing’ is a little strong—”

“—And now you’re telling me that you’ve been fucking him? For a year?”

“...Ish,” You nod, “It’s, um…Maybe closer to a year and a half. Although—That’s elapsed, if we went by the amount of time we actually spent, it’s probably closer to…Six months?”

“Oh, if it’s elapsed.”

“Yeah.”

“Well that makes it sooo much better.”

“Yeah, I thought it—...You’re being sarcastic.”

“God, you’re so smart.”

“Look, Jenn, I know this seems kinda bad on the face of it—”

“It doesn’t seem bad. It is bad.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, that makes me feel much better.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You knew that I liked him!”

“...Yeah,” You lower your gaze to your untouched food. “I did. What I did was shitty, I’m not pretending it’s not. I should’ve told you after the first time it happened, and it shouldn’t have happened again. Frankly, it…It probably shouldn’t have happened at all.”

Jenn pushes a sigh through her nose as she raises her hands, scrubbing them over her face.

“Do you like him?” She asks after a few moments.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

She shoots you a disbelieving look as she lowers her hands, and you hold your own up in concession.

“I think, it’s just…” You consider for a few moments. “When it started, it was…Angry. I was angry, I was mad at him, and the sex kinda worked some of that out. I’m not mad at him like that anymore. I’m not even angry about that entire situation anymore, I’m…I guess I like him,” You finally concede. “Not like-like—Christ, I sound like a teenager, I just mean, um…” You shake your head. “We’ve reached…An amicable place.”

“And that place is his bed?”

You bite back a laugh as you nod a little bit, “Sometimes.” You watch Jenn for a few moments, taking in the furrow of her brow and the thin press of her lips. “How pissed are you?”

“...I’m not gonna pretend I’m happy about it.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“I know. I honestly didn’t think it would keep happening, but it did.”

“Even now?”

“...Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“Sorry.”

Jenn huffed a stunned laugh, shaking her head.

“I need to process this.”

“I totally get that. Take your time.”

“Gee, thanks for your permission.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“...Are you wearing his shirt?”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Talk about it anyway.”

You roll your eyes, looking down at Nathan. His chin is resting on your belly, smoothing his hands along your thighs. You sigh softly, shifting slightly under him.

“It could’ve been worse,” You concede. “She didn’t, like…Flip, but she wasn’t happy about it. Obviously.”

“Didn’t think she would be.”

“No, me neither.”

“Well thanks, Mr. Smarty Pants.” You sigh, smoothing your hand over his head and honing in on the feeling of the his buzzed hair against your palm. “I’m gonna have to give her space for a while.”

“She ask you to?”

“No, but when Jenn is mad like this, she needs…Time. She comes back to me, not the other way around. I can’t push.”

“What if she doesn’t come back?”

Maybe he means it as a harmless hypothetical, but the prospect makes you feel queasy. It’s a thought that you’ve been grappling with all afternoon, that had caused tears to prickle in your eyes as you’d driven back to Bateman’s place. You shake your head wordlessly, swallowing thickly and directing your gaze toward the ceiling.

“Okay,” He concedes. You smooth your hand down to his nape, letting your eyes close as you draw in a deep breath. It’s strange to find comfort in the way Nathan covers your body with his and nuzzles into your neck. He shouldn’t be so sweet with you, not after everything that the two of you have been done. But he cuddles close nonetheless, taking your hands in his and settling into silence.

“You gonna miss me?”

He is teasing now. You glance up from your laptop as you sit on Nathan’s bed, watching him sort through his dresser drawers and draw out a few items to pack for his trip home.

“...Yeah,” You admit after a few moments. “I think I am, a little bit.”

He casts a surprise glance over his shoulder.

“You can always come up and see me.”

“After the week off I just took? No, I don’t think I always can.”

“Figure of speech.”

“Inaccurate.”

“You gonna cry when I take off? Throw yourself onto the tarmac in front of the jet?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna actually stay here, waste away in this bed without you.”

Nathan turns toward you again, tossing a shirt in the direction of the duffel bag before he climbs onto the bed beside you.

“Close it,” He urges.

“Almost done here.”

“Close it now.”

“If you shut it on my fingers and throw it again, I’m gonna punch you in the nards.”

Nathan snorts, sliding down against the headboard and resting his head on your shoulder. You can’t help but smile at the warmth and weight of him beside you, and the way he repositions his head to get more comfortable. You finally finish your email before you make a big show of closing the laptop and setting it aside.

“Can I help you?”

Nathan turns his head, nudging his nose against your neck.

“You could stay here,” He offers.

“I like my place. Besides, I don’t have any of my shit here. I’ve been wearing your clothes, like, all week.”

“I know. Looks good.”

You smile, shaking your head.

“I don’t wanna stick around when you’re not here, Nathan.”

“And if I am around?”

“...Might be nice,” You shrug, looking down at your discarded laptop. “But you’re not around much.”

“That could change.”

Your stomach flips at the assertion, and as Nathan looks up at you, you force a neutral expression.

“If it’s in the best interest of the company, then sure, I guess,” You excuse. You finally chance a glance toward Nathan, and find him watching you closely.

“...I’d like it,” You admit softly. Nathan nods, murmuring, “Alright.”

You nod, looking down at your lap. You'd said three little words, but they feel so dangerous. Your nerves turn to the fluttering of butterflies as he presses a tender kiss to your jaw.

“You’re just adorable,” Nathan murmurs, and you grin at the mocking sincerity in his tone.

“Yeah, well. You’re short.”

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#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman/Reader #Nathan Bateman/You #Nathan Bateman fic #Nathan Bateman imagine #Three Years

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