Archive of Our Own ^beta

The party was still in full swing when Rommath stepped outside for a smoke. It was a clear night, if not a little crisp for early September, and the silence of the car park was a welcome change to the poorly warbled version of Happy Birthday he’d used as his cue to escape. No one had noticed him leave, luckily. He’d carefully positioned himself toward the edge of the room all night, so that when all attention was fixed on the somewhat gaudy birthday cake, no one would catch him slipping out.

He took a drag of his cigarette and stared up toward the cloudless sky. It seemed a bit tasteless to throw a birthday party for a business, but if Anasterian wanted to celebrate 100 years since the founding of Sunstrider Technologies, then they would damn well celebrate. No one said no to the CEO.

The worst part was that none of this would have concerned Rommath if he hadn’t recently been promoted to head of the corporate archive. He couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a tactical move on Belo’vir’s part: retire before the 100th anniversary, and get out of organising the exhibition to go alongside the celebrations. That old bastard. He wouldn’t put such a savvy move past his predecessor.

Had this been six months ago, before his promotion had been finalised, Rommath would have helped Belo’vir sift through and decide on which pieces from the archive were most fitting, and then he wouldn’t have given it another thought. And tonight, the night of the party, he’d have clocked out at five-thirty sharp and he would have been home for hours by now. No speeches, no hobnobbing, no boring corporate event bollocks to suffer through.

Instead it was—he checked his watch—eleven-forty and the night showed no signs of drawing to a close.

He had hoped to be undisturbed, so his heart sank when he heard the doors opening and footsteps just around the corner. It sank even further when he saw a figure sidling up to him from the corner of his eyes.

“Spare a light?” the interloper asked, words slightly mumbled thanks to the cigarette held between his lips.

Rommath had no intention of being drawn into a conversation, so he tried to avoid eye contact as much as possible as he fumbled in his pocket for his lighter. But, as he wordlessly held it out, he froze.

Kael’thas Sunstrider stood beside him, with his perfectly styled hair and stupidly expensive suit. Rommath tried not to stare, but couldn’t help notice the fabric and the cut—current season Tom Ford, if he wasn’t mistaken. He hated to think how much that must have cost. Likely nothing to a Sunstrider, though.

Kael’thas was heir to the company, the fortune, all of it. It almost seemed reductive to say he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. It was more a golden fucking cutlery set.

Rommath wondered for a moment if he could get away with pretending he didn’t know who he was as he took his lighter back, but then an annoyingly elegant hand was thrust out toward him.

“Kael’thas Sunstrider, CTO. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

And he even had the grace and the humility to introduce himself first. It made Rommath sick.

He took another puff before he returned the handshake. “Rommath. Head of the corporate archive.”

“I hear you’re the one responsible for tonight’s entertainment?” Kael’thas asked with well-practised smile. It wasn’t genuine, Rommath could tell, but it was a damn good impression.

“I assume the speech I made introducing the exhibition was your clue?” Rommath asked, not bothering to mask the sarcasm that dripped from his words. “Though, if you can call my part entertainment. Yellowed faxes, schematics and some old photographs all displayed in glass boxes hardly compare to that champagne fountain in there.”

“Don’t sell it short. One of those I see regularly enough, the other is usually locked away under a …controlled climate? I admit, I don’t really know how it all works down in the archive.”

Rommath let out an incredulous snort. “Oh that mundane old sight of a fucking champagne fountain. But yes, it’s all climate controlled down there. Forty-five percent humidity and eighteen degrees for the paper records, cold store for the early film records and—“ He paused, and glanced toward Kael’thas. “And you’re not actually interested in any of this, are you?”

“More interested than in the small talk I suffered through in there,” he said, with a slightly over exaggerated sigh. “I have one criticism though. Sunstrider Technologies: A Century of Innovation is a bit of a dry title, don’t you think? Especially if we’re opening it to the public after tonight.”

“It wasn’t my choice,” Rommath said. “I put forward Sunstrider Technologies: A Century of Re-inventing the Wheel, but your father said it sounded too much like a thinly veiled insult.”

Kael’thas let out a short, sharp burst of laughter. “I’m not sure it even counts as veiled at all. Still, it has a sense of humour to it. What did you say to that?”

“Well I feigned ignorance, obviously.” As he spoke, Rommath realised he was coming to the end of his cigarette, so he stubbed it out and immediately lit another. He’d started to enjoy himself, finally, so he might as well give himself an excuse to linger. “I’ll have to try to sneak something more subtle through next time.”

“Run it by me, if you do. I have a nose for what will slip by my father, and if it comes back on you then you can just say I gave you approval.”

“How noble of you,” Rommath said dryly.

“Oh I wouldn’t call it that. It’s just enjoyable to be in the company of someone who isn’t a yes man.”

“Is that so?” Rommath asked. “I assumed you’d be surrounded by nothing but the modern day equivalent of scheming court eunuchs who have you avoiding your morning coffee for fear of poison while they await your downfall, that sort of thing.”

Kael’thas paused for a moment as if to consider, and made no attempt to hide the amusement on his face. “That might almost be preferable. No, they’re mostly afraid to tell me anything other than what I want to hear. If they were plotting my violent death that would, at least, bring a bit of excitement.”

“Well I guess it makes sense. The rabbits are afraid to speak openly before the fox.”

“Are you saying I’m a fox among the hens?” Kael’thas asked with mock offence in his voice.

“You’re mixing my metaphor.”

“But you are calling me a fox, at least,” he said with a grin, which was met by a roll of the eyes from Rommath.

A quote came to mind. Call me a fox, sir hunter, for that is all I am to you. Where was it from? Rommath racked his brains for a moment before remembering. A Knight’s Tale. He couldn’t go quoting A Knight’s Tale to Kael’thas fucking Sunstrider. Not if he hoped to make a good impression. He’d need something at least slightly highbrow, surely.

Wait—why did he want to impress him? Rommath had never been one to kowtow to anyone in power. And then the moonlight caught on Kael’thas’ frustratingly perfect bone structure, and the sardonic glint in his eye. He was even more beautiful in person than Rommath had been led to believe. It was almost inhuman. And then it hit him. Oh shit. What a cliche. To have a thing for the boss.

He thought it was probably safer to change the subject entirely.

“Won’t they be missing you in there soon?”

“Oh god no. I never stay the full length of these things anyway—just long enough to make an impression. I only have a few more years left of being able to avoid this part of the role as much as possible before my father steps down, so I may as well make the most of it.” As Kael’thas spoke he took a long, final drag of his cigarette, then dropped it on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his painfully expensive looking boot. “Why, are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Absolutely not,” Rommath said, “Though am I hearing correctly that the famed sun prince, gregarious heir of the Sunstrider fortune, is a secret recluse?”

“Ugh, I hate that nickname. Sun prince,” Kael’thas said it in a way that made it sound like words tasted foul in his mouth. “There’s so much expectation in it. And heavy is the head that wears the crown, after all.”

“You know that’s actually misquote.” Rommath immediately wondered why he’d thought that was the best response to give. Kael’thas Sunstrider was bearing his soul to him in a car park, and he was correcting him on Shakespeare? Still, he couldn’t stop himself now he’d started. “It’s actually uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. From Henry IV part two.”

“That’s even worse,” Kael’thas said with a groan. “Fine, then. How about with great power comes great responsibility.”

Rommath couldn’t hold back his laughter as he stubbed his cigarette out. Spider-Man? Was he quoting Spider-Man? Maybe highbrow wasn’t Kael’thas’ thing after all.

“Pop culture whiplash, but I’ll go with it.”

“What can I say,” Kael’thas said with a self deprecating smile. “I’m clearly a man of taste and refinement.”

“Well I don’t think anyone could argue with that.”

It fell quiet for a moment. Noise still raged from inside, where the party continued without them, and the background hum of the city hadn’t yet ceased. Somewhere in the distance Rommath could hear clock chimes marking midnight.

His eyes met Kael’thas’ and something briefly passed between them. He’d call it a moment of frisson if he was being pretentious about it, but it was far more accurate to describe it plainly as it was. Lust. Still neither said anything as Kael’thas took a step forward, until their noses were almost touching. Rommath’s breath quickened slightly as he forced himself to concentrate on anything but the fact their lips were so close that if he leant forward, just slightly…

“Cat got your tongue?” Kael’thas said in a low whisper.

“No, but I might allow a fox to have it.” Rommath internally cringed as the words left his mouth. They’d sounded better in his head. More alluring. He fought to keep his face steady to hide his embarrassment, and was overcome by relief when Kael’thas simply smirked.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d ask if you were flirting with me. But of course you wouldn’t be, because that would be highly unprofessional and improper at a work event, and on company property,” Kael’thas said, dropping his voice even lower so that Rommath had to lean in closer to hear. His heart stopped for a moment, worried he’d overstepped a line or misread the situation, until Kael’thas continued. “So maybe this is a conversation best had elsewhere. My place?”

Kael’thas didn’t wait for an answer before he turned to leave, and Rommath didn’t wait for further invitation before he followed.

Perhaps his promotion wouldn’t be such a hardship after all.