Archive of Our Own ^beta

The lights in the club were dim, pulsing faintly in rhythm with the low hum of music that filled the air. A haze of smoke drifted lazily toward the ceiling, catching the red and violet glow that spilled from the stage. The crowd was a blur of faces, some half-hidden in the dark, others haloed by the glint of glass and neon.

The stage floor felt slick beneath your heels, the metal pole cool against your palm. Every spin, every practiced flick of motion, was part of the performance, a mask you wore as easily as your evening makeup. You moved automatically, muscles remembering the choreography even as your mind started to wander.

You weren’t fond of this job, but rent had to be paid somehow, even if it meant risking your whole career. It was an unfortunate situation. You were a high school teacher working as an exotic dancer in a club out of town, far from any familiar faces.

It would end you if any of your students ever discovered your other occupation, but you doubted any teenager would travel out of town to go to a random club. What you usually worried about was your coworkers finding out, especially a certain one who seemed to have their nose too deep in your business.

You didn’t even know what you’d done to deserve it. Hange Zoë, your beloved coworker, seemed to live only to make your life hell. They criticized your every move. Why won’t they just mind their own business? you always thought to yourself whenever they started blabbering about you in the teacher’s lounge. You never confronted them. Usually just ignoring them or slumping on your desk, taking a small nap.

Two jobs were taking a toll on your body. You had to wake up early every morning, go through the exhausting chore that teaching was, then go home only to leave three hours later for your other job, which stretched into the late-night hours.

You’d developed a habit of napping whenever you could: the bus, during breaks at school, at home, even during classes sometimes, though that wasn’t exactly optional.

That was why Hange Zoë started pestering you. They would constantly comment on how exhausted you looked, but not in a worried way, more like they were mocking you.

You used to argue with them in the beginning, but recently you didn’t even have the energy left to be pissed off. It was such a shame, really. You used to have a huge crush on them when you first got the job.

They were a genius, amazing at chemistry, and attractive too. You used to quietly admire them in the teacher’s lounge whenever your breaks coincided: the way they spoke so excitedly about whatever lab experiment they were conducting, the way their glasses rested on their nose, the way their hair was always messy.

You hated that even though they were nothing but rude and disrespectful to you, your stomach still fluttered whenever their attention was on you. You wished you could have your way with them just to get it out of your system. It was pitiful how you seemed to self-sabotage yourself whenever it came to your jobs or relationships.

You didn’t even hear the music nearing its end, it was the dance move you were doing that reminded you it would soon be over. You redirected your attention toward the crowd to get your mind off of—HANGE ZOË?!

Your movement faltered as you nearly fell off the pole. Did your eyes deceive you? Your heartbeat tripled. But surely enough, the figure in the crowd was too familiar to miss. You would’ve assumed it was someone who merely looked like them, after all, Hange Zoë wasn’t the type to go to such clubs, but the expression on their face confirmed it was indeed them.

They wore a long black coat, hair up in a messy knot as always, their signature glasses still in place as they stared at you with an open mouth, clearly as shocked as you were.

What the hell was Hange doing in a place like this?

You didn’t dare look their way again. You had to remain professional. It wasn’t the time for errors. But your hands trembled as they gripped the pole, and you still made a few mistakes, nothing too noticeable, but mistakes nonetheless.

As soon as the music ended, you immediately left the stage, sprinting to the changing rooms. A few of your coworkers asked if you were alright, you just gave them a thumbs-up before locking yourself in your room.

You were right, Hange was not the type of person to go to such clubs. The reason for their visit had been you.

What you hadn’t noticed was that Hange always paid close attention to everything you did. Recently, they had noticed that you were not doing well physically. It was not normal for a person to take ten naps a day, you were obviously sleep deprived. The dark circles under your eyes, which you tried to cover with makeup, were clear proof of it.

Once, they even walked in on you sleeping during class, while your students took advantage of the moment to cheat on their test. Hange wasn’t sure how to approach you about it, every time they tried, you brushed them off. Instead, they tried alerting your other coworkers, but none of them seemed to care enough.

It was driving Hange mad, so they decided to take matters into their own hands. After a little private investigation, they found out that you frequented a certain club out of town. One quick search on the internet told them what kind of club it was.

The most logical conclusion Hange came to was that you simply enjoyed clubbing, perhaps with the added thrill of seeing naked women on stage. It wasn’t uncommon for an adult to enjoy such things, but that often? Was there a particular dancer you liked? Hange wasn’t sure, but they hated the idea.

Since their discovery was embarrassing to bring up, they tried to subtly hint that you should take better care of yourself. But somehow, those hints had turned into irritated remarks and sharp reprimands. They couldn’t help it, the thought of you going all the way out of town just to see a woman dance was driving them insane.

Today they had simply had enough. They were going to drive up there and see for themself. Maybe you’d get so embarrassed you’d stop going altogether.

Hange parked their car near the entrance. The club stood out form other establishments with its neon signs and muffled pulse of music leaking into the street.

Once inside, they were greeted with a smell of alcohol mixed with sweat. The place was packed, with a round stage in the middle, specifically designed for the dancers. Hange didn’t bother glancing at the woman performing, instead they scanned the crowd for you, but to no avail.

They checked the bar, the dance floor, even the bathrooms, but you were nowhere to be found. Could it be that you hadn’t come today? They felt a wave of defeat and turned to leave when a sudden roar of cheers caught their attention. The sound came from the people gathered around the stage, shouting for the dancer.

Hange decided to see what all the fuss was about. After all, you apparently also seemed to be fond of such performances. However, once they stepped closer their heart stopped. Dancing on the pole was none other than you, your hands roaming your own body, teasing to reveal your breasts as another round of cheers erupted. But Hange barely heard them. They couldn’t take their eyes off you.

You took your skirt off and held it up in the air before dropping it, grinning throughout your actions as you begun moving to the music again. Your aura was addicting. Hange found themself unconsciously stepping closer. You gripped the pole and leapt, your legs wrapped around it like it was your second nature.

Hange couldn’t breathe. They felt something heavy and hot bloom in their chest as they watched you. The growing wetness between their legs was enough for them to realize that they were enjoying the sight more than they should. But they couldn’t tear their eyes away, instead staring at you in awe. Until your eyes met. Hange could tell you recognized them from the way your movements halted and the smile disappeared from your face.

It didn’t matter though. A sharp, possessive feeling crawled under their skin. Hange didn’t want anyone else looking at you. That was when they made up their mind.

This was not happening.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, but your heart refused to yield. Your life was over. Hange, of all people. You would’ve been less embarrassed if it had been your father who saw you. But Hange? The coworker you saw every day? The one who already disliked you? The one whose heart you wanted to win? This was unacceptable.

A knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts, doing nothing to help your racing heart. You stayed quiet for a few seconds before hesitantly calling out, “Who is it?”

“It’s me.” Your boss’s voice made relief wash over you. You had never been happier to hear Yelena’s voice.

You opened the door for her, stepping aside to let her in.

“Are you okay? You didn’t look well.” She sounded genuinely concerned.

“Yes, just feeling a bit lightheaded,” you lied. “Can I go home early today?”

She eyed you before sighing. “Yes, you can. But someone already requested a private thirty-minute session with you. You can go after that.”

“Can’t another girl fill in for me?” you complained. You didn’t usually mind private dances, it was all the same to you, but in your experience, only weirdos booked thirty-minute sessions. They all thought they’d have a chance to sleep with you.

Not that most customers didn’t think the same way, for some reason, they all assumed a private session meant they could do whatever they wanted. But that wasn’t the case. It was the same as when you were on stage, except they also got a lap dance as a bonus. Nothing more, nothing less.

“This client requested you specifically.” That was fairly common. You seemed to be the most popular among the dancers.

“Okay,” you sighed. “But I’m going home as soon as it’s over.”

Yelena nodded, telling you which room to go to before leaving. You sighed again, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Your makeup was still intact, great. You wore a black see-through top, the only sense of privacy provided by black X-shaped nipple covers. The lace thong you wore wasn’t meant to cover much, paired with fishnets. Totally an acceptable outfit for a teacher. Hopefully, Hange didn’t see much of you.

On the bright side, you could hide from them for thirty minutes and then go home. All of this would become tomorrow’s problem.

You kept cheering yourself up with such thoughts as you approached the private room Yelena had instructed you to go to. You stepped inside and closed the door, but as soon as you saw the person sitting on the leather couch, your heart dropped.

“What the hell,” you mumbled, defeated. God, or whoever was up there, really seemed to hate you.

“And I thought my eyes were deceiving me.” Hange looked unimpressed. Their coat was folded neatly on the armrest. They sat with their arms and legs crossed, wearing the mustard-colored button-up they usually wore at school. “I expected a lot, but a stripper?”

“An exotic dancer,” you corrected, trying to figure out what to do. They only chuckled at your response.

You had three choices:

One: Muster up your remaining dignity, walk out that door, write a resignation letter, and vanish from the face of the earth before Hange ruined your reputation.

Two: Pretend you didn’t know Hange. If they asked, you were their coworker’s twin sister, they’d never be able to prove you wrong. Yup. Totally achievable.

Three: Swallow your pride and treat Hange like any other customer, hoping they wouldn’t tell on you.

Hmm. Decisions, decisions.

“Do you always stall during sessions?” Hange raised a brow. “How can you be bad at both of your jobs?”

Okay. Plan three it is.

You could indulge in useless banter with Hange, but you just wanted to get paid and go home to rethink your life choices that led you to this moment.

You wordlessly went over to the speakers, this place was too quiet, you needed a distraction. Glancing at the electronic timer counting down from thirty minutes: 28:13. Okay. Twenty-eight minutes and this would be over. For today, at least.

“I’m the most requested dancer here, so no, I wouldn’t say I’m bad at my job,” you declared while swiping on the small monitor attached to the speakers to find a suitable playlist.

“Is that so?” Hange raised a brow. “Let’s see what you’ve got, then.”

You pressed on a random playlist, turned to Hange, flashed them a fake smile, and walked over to the pole set up in the middle of the room.

Three… two… one… and the music began.

The first notes rolled through the room, low and pulsing. You slipped into motion out of habit, the choreography etched into muscle memory, yet tonight it felt different. You couldn’t tune anything out, not the faint hum of the speakers, not the distant laughter from the hallway, and especially not the weight of Hange’s gaze.

They sat perfectly still on the couch, eyes fixed on you, their expression unreadable under the dim light. Normally you lost yourself to rhythm and routine, but now every movement felt deliberate, watched and measured.

You spun slowly around the pole, the room narrowing until there was only the faint gleam of metal, the heat of your own skin, and Hange, silent and assessing. Their posture had changed, legs parted slightly, shoulders relaxed, but their gaze was anything but casual. It pressed into you, followed each turn, and god, they looked so hot watching you like this.

What the hell is wrong with me. You thought to yourself. You bent your body in all the ways you could, sending seductive glances at Hange. The whole point of these sessions was to seduce the clients, treat them like they were special, but you had never meant it, not until today.

It was thrilling to have the person you had a crush on watch you perform.  For the first time since starting here, you actually wanted your skills to work, they usually did, but this time you were more nervous. You glanced at the timer: 22:13.

It was time to move over to the next stage: the lap-dance. One you hated the most, you’d done this a hundred times before, but never like this. Not when every step made your pulse hammer harder. You hesitated only a moment before crossing the distance. The air between you carried that strange current. Hange didn’t move, but the change in their expression made your breath falter. Their eyes had darkened, their mouth set in a line that could have been disapproval or something else entirely.

When you stopped in front of them, the air between you felt electric. Their eyes flicked up, dark and unreadable, though you could see the effort it took for them to stay still. You turned around, back facing them instead, as you slowly, with a deliberate sway of your hips, lowered yourself on their lap.

You heard their breath hitch behind you, but you didn’t stop, grinding your hips and arching your back. For once in your life, you finally understood the appeal of the work you were doing. Your cunt was throbbing between your thighs. Yet despite what you were doing, you were too afraid to make a bold move, instead opting to seduce them into a state of no control.

You stood up, facing Hange again. Their breathing was heavier, and even the dark room couldn’t cover the faint blush covering their cheeks. It was obvious that they were turned on too, you just wanted to see if they’d act on it.

With a satisfied smirk, you straddled their waist, hands running up their arms and resting on their shoulders. You began to move above them, a slow, torturous roll of your hips. A soft moan slipped from your mouth when you ground down on their lap. Hange’s hands flew to your thighs, massaging the soft skin while playing with the strings of the fishnets you wore.

“You’re not allowed to touch. House rules.” You said, voice a bit more breathless than you expected.

Hange immediately removed their hands, gripping the cushion instead. You didn’t stop your movements, instead letting your hands wonder, before they stopped at their collar, unbuttoning a few buttons, just enough to reveal their collarbone.

Hange leaned their head back, throat bobbing from how hard they swallowed. You rolled your hips desperately, rubbing your damp lace thong on their covered thigh. Hange seemed to be at their limit. You could tell from the way they took sharp breaths, mouth slightly open, a few gasps of pleasure escaping from time to time. They were holding onto the leather cushions for dear life.

“Still think I’m bad at my job?” you asked, a triumphant smirk on your face.

You could see a flash of something in Hange’s eyes, although you weren’t sure what it was. They ignored your question, “Take your top off.”

Fuck. Their commanding voice was so hot you actually considered obeying. But you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. Even though the lines of professionalism had blurred a while ago.

Seeing that you made no move to comply, their hands moved to your hips again, gripping hard enough to halt your movements. You shot them a warning glare, but instead of retracting their hands like before, their grip tightened even more. You couldn’t even roll your hips onto them anymore.

Fine. So Hange wanted to play dirty. Then so would you. You leaned forward, kissing their exposed neck slowly before making your way down, sucking a biting lightly on their collarbone. Hange gasped under you, squirming in their seat.

“Hange…” you whispred against their neck, before leaning back to meet their eyes. They were feral, burning with desire.

One look and you knew that you had them wrapped around your finger, you could do whatever you wanted. So you leaned in, soft lips meeting theirs.

Now Hange couldn’t hold back anymore, they quickly pressed harder, the force of the kiss making you lean back a bit. Your body tensed up for second, but as soon as Hange’s hands started roaming all over your body you melted right into them. The kiss was fervent, full of nothing but the desire to feel each other. You wrapped your arms around their neck, tangling your fingers in their hair, wanting Hange to deepen the kiss.

Shivers went down your spine when Hange licked your bottom lip, clearly urging you to open your mouth. You happily complied, a little moan escaping you as you felt their tongue press against yours, Hange hummed in response. Every touch, every little noise that they made was making your head reel. It was too much yet not enough, you felt like you could consume them fully and it would still not be enough to satisfy your craving.

The pulsing between your thighs was becoming unbearable as you tightened them around them, grinding your hips slowly to get some friction for your throbbing core, letting out a moan louder than you intended as you grabbed their shoulders for support. You were unable to continue kissing, your head falling back in pleasure, lewd noises escaping your lips from the feeling of grinding against them.

The sight of you on top of them, rocking your hips to pleasure yourself was driving Hange crazy. The black transparent top you wore wasn't covering much, the faint outline of your breasts was visible through the fabric. The only sense of privacy was provided by your nipple covers.

Without a second thought, Hange’s hands slid up your stomach, reaching the hem of the top, before grabbing and ripping it open. You gasped, surprised how easily the fabric was torn to shreds.

Hange took in the sight before them, staring at your exposed chest. Their hands found the soft plush of your breasts, squeezing them hard enough to have you whimpering. They could feel your hardened nipples through the covers, it took everything in them not to rip those off as well. They didn't want a single inch of your body left hidden, but much to their surprise, they really seemed to like the black X covers hiding away your sensitive spots.

Their fingers pressed against your erected nipples through the latex, sending a wave a pleasure through your spine. Then Hange leaned in, giving small kisses and sucking on the sensitive skin, that would certainly leave marks. Their hands never once stopped playing with your breasts, squeezing and massaging the soft skin.

Your hips were getting tired from all the grinding, but it felt too good, you couldn’t stop. Though you knew it wasn’t enough to get you off. Looking at your eyes heavy with want, it was clear to them what you needed.

They let their hands slide up your back, guiding you down until you were sprawled on the couch, never breaking eye contact. You didn’t think it would be possible to get more turned on than you already were, but the thought of your coworker fucking you on the couch at your work made your heart pound with anticipation.

Before you could process what was happening, your panties were rolled down to your knees in one swift motion, air hitting your cunt.

Hange looked at your exposed pussy with nothing but hunger in their eyes. It was so very wet, they felt captivated. You had your legs spread for them unashamedly, biting your lower lip with a needy expression on your face. Hange found it all too sexy. They lowered themselves between your thighs, licking their lips as if you were the most delicious meal they were about to consume.

“Tell me, do you let all of your clients touch you this way?” They shot you a questioning glance, fingers digging a bit harder into your skin.

“No,” you breathed out, “just you.”

“Good.”

They began peppering kisses on the insides of your thighs, sucking on the soft skin before biting down. Your body jerked with pleasure as you bit your lip even harder, trying to muffle the noises that wanted to escape your throat.

It wasn't like anyone outside could hear your voice through the music, but still, you didn't want to take any chances.

They moved closer to your cunt, hovering over it and looking up at you. Seeing you so turned on was all that Hange needed. They instantly plunged inside you, tongue first. They heard you gasp loudly, your hands moved to their hair, tugging on it while they devoured you.

The feeling of Hange’s hot tongue pressed against you, sliding up and down your entrance was making you see the stars. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling, grinding your hips onto their face, clutching the strands of their hair harder. You knew it wouldn’t be long before an orgasm hit, after all you were living out your most desired fantasy.

“Mmmh I’m close.” You moaned out, warning Hange, but they didn’t need the warning. They could tell you were close from the way your moans kept getting louder as you kept urging them to go faster with the movement of your hips. They moved their hands up your body, grabbing onto your tits, removing the nipple covers at last.

They tugged and squeezed your breasts, all the while sucking on your clit while thrusting in and out of you with their tongue as hard as they wanted.

All the stimulation was making pleasure build up in your abdomen, but you didn’t want to let go, not yet. You were enjoying this moment a bit too much and didn’t want it to end. As if Hange could sense your hesitation they mumbled against your cunt “Come for me sweetheart.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore, driven over the edge by Hange’s sexy voice and the stimulation you were receiving.

As soon as those words left Hange’s mouth they felt your legs wrapping around their head as you clenched around their tongue. “Oh… Fuck!” You came with a loud moan. The restraints you’d put on yourself snapped completely. Pleasure completely overtook you as you laid on that couch, chest violently heaving.

Hange rode you through the high, lost in the way you tasted. Once they felt you twitch around them, they let go, leaning over you with a satisfied expression on their face.

You must have looked like a mess, but you didn't care anymore. Hange lit a fire inside you that couldn't be put out, it only grew stronger the more they fueled it.

You pulled them down for a desperate kiss, tasting yourself on them, and Hange melted right onto you. It seemed like they also couldn't get enough. Their hand found your cunt again, rubbing slow circles on your sensitive clit.

You wanted to feel them too, wanted to know if they were as desperate for you as you were for them. Your hand slid past the waistband of their pants and underwear, until it reached Hange's own soaking center.

Your finger easily slid between their wet folds, skin warm and swollen.

“A-ah,” Hange moaned into your mouth, brows furrowing in pleasure, and you almost came again just from their reaction alone.

It only motivated you to keep going, your fingers moving from their entrance to their clit, then back down again. Hange seemed to match your movements, because as soon as your fingers entered their warm hole, you felt Hange's digits press into you as well.

The kiss had turned sloppy a while ago, no longer proper, more like moaning into each-other’s mouths, trying to erase the very little distance that was left between you.

When you started your shift today, you hadn't expected to have sex with Hange Zoë of all people, in one of the private rooms. But here you were. Fingering each other desperately on the couch.

“F-fuck, don't stop,” Hange panted.

You moaned, your eyes blinking from the overwhelming pleasure. “I thought about your fingers stretching my pussy out…just like this.”

“Fuck.” Hange gasped at your words.

They were so turned on, you could tell. They were looking down at you with the darkest eyes you’d ever seen. You could feel them spasming around your fingers whenever you hit their g-spot.

“Deeper baby,” they whispered in your ear and you obliged instantly. Hange trembled on top of you, clearly nearing their orgasm, though their fingers never stopped fucking you.

“I thought about it too …” they admitted through ragged breathes, their chest heaving heavily, “I thought about fucking you, how wet your cunt would feel, how loud you would moan for me.”

Their words made fire pool low in your abdomen and you came with a loud cry, dissolving into pleasure. Hange followed seconds later, moaning your name as they climaxed.

Their body went limp from the aftershock, their head dropping down on your shoulder, no longer having the strength to hold it up. Hange's hair tickled your neck and you could feel their breath on your skin.

Your mind was buzzing, it was such an exhilarating feeling. You never wanted this to end.

The daze didn't last long, it was interrupted by a rather loud beeping sound. Hange raised their head, looking around with a confused expression on their face. It drew a smile out of you, just how did this adorable, innocent chemistry teacher end up at a place like this.

“It's coming from the timer,” you said, a warm smile tugging at your lips, “your thirty minutes is up.”

Hange only chuckled in response, before leaning down, stealing a brief kiss from you. “Can't you give me a few more minutes?” They asked, grinning.

“Well, I could, but, we have exactly three minutes before my boss barges in here to check up on me.”

At that Hange froze, suddenly remembering where they were. They quickly sat back, eyes scanning your surroundings, before landing on you.

You felt anxiety grow in your stomach. You had seduced them, but what if they were disgusted by you? By the work you were doing?

The realization struck you hard. You didn't want them to hate you, and it was much more than a casual hookup for you.

“You're quitting.” Their voice made your heart stop.

You chuckled, despite yourself, “Hange, it's not that easy, I can barely afford rent with two jobs, I can't imagine how I'd survive with one.”

Hange didn't say anything for a few seconds, they were lost in thought. You took that time to sit up, looking around to find a whole piece of clothing. You had to blink back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. Surely Hange must have formed a very low opinion of you.

Your worries dissipated with their next words, “come live with me then.”

The words hung in the air, as you stared at them in disbelief. Hange seemed to get nervous under your gaze, they couldn't look at you properly, they added, “or I could– uhh… I could pay your rent… if you'd rather live alone.”

You still said nothing, you weren't even sure what to say, it felt like time had stopped completely. But Hange seemed to be determined. “I’ll do anything,” they declared, “just quit, please.”

Now you felt like crying again, from joy this time. “Okay,” you breathed out, grinning like an idiot in love, “okay, I'll live with you, Hange.”

Hange returned your smile, they cupped your face, pulling you in for a lingering kiss. You kissed them back, relieved. You felt their breath catch when you tilted your head, deepening the kiss just slightly. They smiled against your mouth, hands caressing your sides.

“Hange,” you whispered between kisses that seemed to grow hungrier the more it went on, “we have to leave, or Yelena will blow this place up if she sees me like this.”

At that Hange pulled away, they opened their mouth to say something but that's when a sight of you finally dawned on them. Your top was torn, thrown somewhere on the ground. Your nipples covers were nowhere to be found, and the fishnets were ruined too. There was not a single piece of you that was properly covered.

It's not like a naked woman was out of place in a strip club, you could probably walk out of here with ease and slip into the changing rooms without drawing too much attention. But Hange wouldn't allow another soul to see you like this.

They reached over to the armrest, where their coat was and draped it over your shoulders. You appreciated the warmth, pulling the fabric tight around your figure, hiding away in it.

“Let's go,” Hange stood up, reaching out their hand for you to take. You happily took it, trailing behind them toward the door. But it swung open before Hange could even reach for the handle.

It was Yelena, she was panting, with a worried expression on her face. Once she saw you it softened, “thank god, I almost forgot!”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. It was her job to make sure that none of the clients tried anything funny with the dancers. The private rooms were always risky, once the time was up, she always personally checked on each one of her employees.

“I'm fine, Yelena, thank you.” You said, clutching the fabric of the coat in your hand.

“And she's quitting,” Hange smiled, although there was not a hint of politeness in their smile.

“Wait what?” Yelena finally took in the sight in front of her. Why the hell were you wearing a coat– was that your top on the ground?

They looked between you and Hange in bemusement, the sight of Hange's slightly open collar and the red marks that trailed down, paired with your ruined make-up finally made her connect the dots.

“Oh.” That's all she said, but Hange was already leading you out the door, with a firm hold on your hand, as if someone could pry you away from them.

Once in their car, you finally asked them a question that had been clawing at you for a while. “What were you doing here?”

Hange froze, their grip tightening on the steering wheel, before sighing. “I sort of– stalked you here…”

You had expected a lot, but that was at the bottom of your pyramid. “What? Why?” You were puzzled.

Hange turned their face toward you, and you could see their face was flushed red, “well, you didn't seem to be doing well and… I like you, so I wanted to see why you came to this place so often, I didn't think you'd work here.” They said quietly, you could see a hint of guilt on their face, “back there… I didn't mean to have sex with you, I wanted to talk first but… I got distracted.”

“You… like me?” You blinked, ignoring everything else.

Hange raised their head, smiling wider than they had all night, “Yes, I like you, a lot.”

You felt all your worries leave your body at once. Suddenly you felt much lighter, free.

“I like you too, Hange.”