Casper Gets His Wish (3 page)

Perhaps Dmitri’s talents were catching. Casper didn’t have thoughts like those, fantastic and wistful and compelling. Not ever. No matter how much he might wish to.

“My personal life?” Hollyberry inquired carefully, his voice dropping off, getting low. “Are you asking about that, Silverbell?” But the corner of his mouth quirked up as he asked and Casper immediately felt the lick of fire behind his eyes, rushing through his chest. It knocked that vague hint of fantasy right out of him.

“You can make time for your work
at work
,” he ground out, narrowing his eyes when that didn’t instill any fear or remorse. “Like everyone else.”

“Playtime is for later then, or is it all work and no play for you?” Hollyberry asked, leaning in as if he truly wanted to know. His assistant let out another giggle. This one wasn’t as soft.

Casper grabbed blindly at the paperwork and stepped back. It would have taken a blizzard to keep the heat out of his voice.

“But I
am
a dull boy, Mr. Hollyberry, as both you and Miss Pinebough are well aware.” He glared at both them as the smiles disappeared from their faces, and clutched the file to his chest. “I will expect this report to be legible in the future. I have better things to do than constantly look over your work.”

Not wanting to give himself another chance for further humiliation after that blatant lie, as well as hoping they wouldn’t know it was a blatant lie, he walked out, painfully conscious of how Dmitri Hollyberry watched him until he was out of sight.

–

The burn of his embarrassment lingered over the intervening weeks, which was what he labeled them,
intervening
weeks, because he knew they would be. Because Hollyberry wouldn’t listen to him, and if Casper wanted his own work completed, he was going to have to see the man again. Talk to him again. Embarrass himself again.

It was inevitable. Somehow each month until this he’d had hope that something he would do would finally get a real response from Hollyberry, but now it was obvious that the other elf simply found him amusing.

Casper had never dreaded the end of the month like this. It was a busy time for him, certainly, but he enjoyed his work. Before this, he was even willing to admit that while he had never felt especially calm in Hollyberry’s presence, their interactions had at least been stimulating, different. Casper hadn’t met many elves from outside the Pole. Except for vacations or trips to go clothes shopping, he rarely travelled south at all. But Hollyberry was different in more than just the way that Southern elves were, not quite like a human either.

He took arrogance to new levels, certainly, but he pushed his employees to think differently and go beyond their limits without ever getting a single complaint about attitude or unfairness. It was as though he liked things to be shaken up, regardless of the consequences. That was a terrifying idea, practically anarchy as far as Casper was concerned. If things weren’t the way they were, then where was he to go, what was he to do? His hobbies would not make viable elf careers and his dating situation was already pathetic.

Not that he was terrible looking. Casper was somewhat small and slender, true, but so were many others. It was that the only skill that had ever set him apart—math—was also the one thing that ensured no nice elf boys ever brought him home to meet their mothers.

Hollyberry likely did not have that problem. Hollyberry probably had to fend off the adoring hordes on a daily basis. The waiting list to work in his department was already huge, and that was work. His bold policy worked for him, had earned him success as well as popularity, though, it probably helped that he wasn’t bad to look at.

Quite the contrary really. If the man hadn’t been so obnoxious, Casper might have hoped for a brief affair, in lieu of anything permanent. He might even have idly wondered what Dmitri Hollyberry was like outside of work, stretching the imagination he’d been told many times that he did not have, to daydream like a boy in school about what anything more would even be like.

Things were different among the Southern elves. On his vacations, one or two had found Casper’s suits charming, had sipped cider with Casper instead of nog. But those were vacations, harmless fun, they were not waking together or sharing the sink to brush teeth or bickering over the remote. And even Southern elves had found Casper entirely too serious for much more than a night or two.

Years ago, once upon a time, when Hollyberry had first been hired, before they had met, Casper had even, vaguely, faintly, wished for Dmitri to be as different from everyone else as Casper was. After all, what was a Southern elf doing moving back here, especially after making his fortune among the humans? He
had
to be different. Casper had wished and wished until there weren’t stars left in the sky to wish on.

His wish had been answered, but it was hardly a present with his name on it, and it was only going to get worse. But to not go downstairs himself to get the paperwork that was sure to be missing was to admit that he was giving up, and he couldn’t do that, even if he wasn’t creative enough for comebacks and his mind stumbled when Dmitri came near. All he could manage were icy putdowns that never seemed to do anything but make Dmitri’s gaze shine like the borealis.

His heart pounded hard at the memory of brilliant, shifting lights, of heat at his back, and for a moment he didn’t hear the knocking at his outer door. He lifted his head, but before he could manage a, “Come in,” the elf on his mind strolled into his office without an invitation, his hands full of a neat stack of paperwork collected into a binder that he deposited on Casper’s desk.

Right on top of the work he was doing, but Casper was too stunned to protest. After a few moments of silence and a stare that went on far too long, Hollyberry moved first, straightening up and glancing around.

Casper knew he wasn’t dreaming because that was impossible. His imagination was so small as to be non-existent and this was… this was Dmitri Hollyberry, in front of him, his t-shirt short enough to reveal the ink at his hip, with his monthly paperwork on time and neat and ready to be filed and still warm from his hands.

Casper wasn’t just blushing. His entire body was flushed hot. His ears were most certainly pink. Not that Hollyberry said a word about either situation.

“So this is the big office I’ve heard all about. You wouldn’t believe the people who are jealous of this office, but then it
is
a corner with a beautiful view.” He turned to face the wide, shining, sugar glass and Casper’s truly breathtaking view of pale blue snowdrifts and the already fading midnight sun of late summer.

He hadn’t even known Hollyberry had known where his office was. The elf was smiling as he drank in the landscape, and then he turned. Casper remembered to blink. “No wonder you don’t want to leave this room. I never expected this.”

Casper blinked again, then rubbed his warm cheeks. “And with all your talk about imagination,” he drawled, and did his best not to shift at Dmitri’s flashed grin.

Dmitri turned to face Casper again. “You know, Casper, I try to be nice and bring you your sacred reports so you won’t come storming into my department and scaring the faint of heart, and it isn’t enough to even bring a gleam to those big brown eyes. And no glasses today? I’m disappointed.”

It was blatant baiting. Casper ignored it, though his fingertips ran over the surface of the binder the paperwork had been clipped into. He’d
collated
them. Into the
proper order
. Casper felt his chest constrict as his breathing picked up.

He could speak, if he really tried. “I doubt anything’s even spelled correctly in those. Your floor director once spelled it, r-a-i-n-d-e-a-r.”

“Randy has issues with spelling, but he’s got a first rate vision of what could be. Which seems to be more than you have.” Dmitri let out a gusty sigh and ran his fingers along his collar, which was torn so that his collarbone was visible. Casper couldn’t see any ink there, but he averted his eyes, then brought them right back at the other man’s tone. “What exactly is your problem? Do you not like Southern elves? Or do you not like me? Because say the word and I’ll stop.”

What he thought he would stop was something Casper didn’t allow himself a moment to think about, though it might haunt him later.

“
My
problem?” As though everyone didn’t know that already. “I am a non-creative elf, Mr. Hollyberry.” He didn’t mean to say the words but they rushed out in a chilly stream anyway. He shouldn’t have to say the words.
Everyone
knew about him. “Don’t you understand what that means? I do
math
, Mr. Hollyberry. I even like it. And I wouldn’t “storm” anywhere if you sent your papers up on time. It’s like you
want
to force me to make the trip downstairs. And for what? So I can once again be shown how
superior
the artistic elves are? So it can be rubbed in my face yet again, as though it isn’t every other moment of every other day that what I do isn’t as important as what you do?”

Oh dear. He hadn’t meant to say that and he was going to blame the elf in front of him. Dmitri was always pushing him, making him lose control as though Casper were some brilliant idea or
gift
or something. The breath puffed out of him, and he abandoned the binder to smooth his hands over his suit, the mostly clean and organized surface of his plain, metal desk. He raised his gaze and saw Hollyberry’s attention was focused solely on him. The breath he tried to take in left him in a ragged gust. “Just because I don’t make things doesn’t mean I don’t deserve your respect.”

Dmitri dropped both hands to his sides. He shifted forward but stopped when Casper stiffened.

“I respect you, Casper,” he murmured, but right there was proof he didn’t in what name he chose to call him. Casper flicked his gaze to the side and snorted. “I mean it,” Dmitri drew his attention back, raising his voice and stepping forward. “I’ll never be as clever as you. Organization is not my strong suit.”

He made the sort of flaily gesture that he probably made when confronted with billing forms. It was so sincerely awkward that Casper twisted his mouth because it wanted to soften and smile and utter reassuring, quiet things. Things no one wanted to hear from him. He rubbed at his face again.

“I’m sure,” he agreed at last, but there wasn’t much heart in it. He coughed. “I’ll get right on these,” he offered quietly after that, looking out at the snow though the heat in him didn’t feel like anger.

“I didn’t want you to sacrifice your personal time for work,” Hollyberry remarked, seemingly from nowhere until Casper recalled their earlier conversation. “I’d hate to think I was keeping you from someone.”

“Someone?” Casper almost gaped.

“It is almost dinner time. Time to go home, kick back, eat something,” Hollyberry went on, as though Casper wasn’t staring at him. “I bet you have plans, and I didn’t want to get in your way.” He cleared his throat. “If you did.”

“I don’t.” It slipped out. Casper instantly tugged at his waistcoat. Hollyberry’s eyes followed the gestured before he looked back up. The man seemed pleased. Casper had to say something else. “Is that what you’ll be doing? Kicking back and eating something?”

It was quite possibly the dumbest thing Casper had ever said. Dmitri nodded eagerly, as though he thought more of the question than Casper did.

“That sounds nice,” Casper added, stupidly, wishing he could duck under his desk except that unlike Hollyberry, he didn’t have that big of a desk.

Dmitri raised his head. For a moment, his posture was actually straight. Casper looked down at the work on his desk, and his imagination, such as it was, presented him with images of himself cooking while Dmitri snuck handfuls of grated cheese and sat on his counter to watch him make tacos. In a dream like that, Dmitri wouldn’t leave after dinner, he’d help clean and they’d watch television and discuss their workday, before Casper would slide over to straddle Dmitri’s lap and demand, playfully, seriously, that Dmitri put his hands on his hips or he’d get no kiss. He could wriggle down after a while, fully prepared to suck Dmitri’s cock if Dmitri had been good. And he would be, in that fantasy, he’d do anything for Casper, and Casper would kiss him and suck him and swallow and then allow Dmitri whatever he wanted.