#irwin r. schyster smut

[luxurysystems]

Count Them For Me (Irwin R. Schyster x Ted Dibiase)

SUMMARY: Ted grapples with the idea that the feelings he's experiencing are one-sided in nature.

⚠️FAIR WARNING ⚠️: some lite smut/nudity, some feels, and Irwin struggling to read between the lines despite having four eyes.

A/N: To those who chose sicko time in the poll, this one is for u. 💓

[beardedbarba]

..... i will never get over the fact that there is irwin r. schyster smut 

[concussed-to-pieces]

Deadline

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Irwin R. Schyster/Unnamed OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Thirst Party Saturday ahoy! In honor of April fifteenth (the usual filing deadline for U.S. federal income tax returns), I give you an incredibly indulgent installment. Because I am a terrible person and I make no excuses for myself. Tagging the usual suspects @tox-moxley, @oraclegazes and of course the incredibly courageous @hardcorewwetrash (who will probably keelhaul me for this installment...I may in fact deserve it but after all this Wattpad malarkey I figured some levity would not be amiss).

Enjoy!

Irwin R. Schyster was a simple, orderly man. He liked his receipts signed, his socks matched, and his tie tied just right. He came to work every day, ready to get down to business. Tax fraud and evasion was at an all time high and he was more than happy to lay the smackdown on the miscreants who tried to falsify important documents or claim more than two percent of their gross income as deductible.

It wasn’t often that clients came knocking on his door this late, though.

It was timid, almost didn’t catch his attention. He glanced at the clock. After nine already? Probably the janitor. “Sorry Gene, I’ll head out.” he called, starting to shuffle the papers on his desk back into their folders.

“Excuse me, uh, Mr. Schyster?”

That was not Clean Gene’s voice. Irwin looked up, startled. Standing in front of his desk was a young woman in a denim jacket. Attractive enough, but it was very late. “Miss, my consulting hours were up at four.” He said bluntly, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice. “You’re going to have to come back in the morning.”

“I’m sorry. I saw the light on and figured I’d give it a shot. I promise I’ll be quick.” She seemed nervous, wringing her hands. “I just needed help and a few of my friends recommended you specifically.”

Irwin felt a rush of pride at that, pushing his glasses up his nose. “You have five minutes. I’m listening.” He propped his hip up against the side of his desk, crossing his arms over his burly chest. This was highly unorthodox but he was intrigued to say the least. Never mind the fact that his own methods were incredibly unorthodox in and of themselves. Effective, but unorthodox.

“I have…numbers don’t cooperate with me.” She began. “I’m afraid that between this year and last year my finances have gotten a little tangled, so I need a professional’s help.”

“What do you mean ‘numbers don’t cooperate’?” Irwin asked, thoroughly confused. “Numbers don’t change. They’re the only constant on this planet.” He tapped the toe of his shoe on the ground, a little annoyed with this woman. She was starting to sound like one of those cheats when they tried to weasel their way out of an audit.

She winced. “Numbers have always been a difficult area for me. You should see me trying to figure out change. It’s a mess.”

“So you need a tax preparation? A consultation?”

“Yes, as soon as possible. I know you must be very busy with your current clients. I promise I’m not trying to cut the line. I also know this isn’t exactly a service you advertise specifically, so I wasn’t sure if you were even able to help. I didn’t see a number to call though…” She trailed off.

Irwin blinked. I never actually put my number or specifications up, did I? Just my general ‘financial services’ sign. “Well Miss, I’m in by eight and I close up shop at four. I break for lunch at noon. Exactly noon.” There was nothing worse than having his routine interrupted. “If you arrive during the half hour between twelve and twelve-thirty, there are seats in the hallway. I have an open schedule tomorrow, so whenever you have the time you’re free to stop in.”

“Really? That’s wonderful! Thank you!” she said excitedly, bouncing in place and then hugging him tightly like she was a child.

Irwin stiffened in surprise and pushed his glasses back up on his nose after she released him, clearing his throat awkwardly.

…

At twelve o' clock on the dot the next day, Irwin flipped the sign to his office around to the 'out to lunch!' side and locked the door behind him. He strolled off down the hallway and out of the building, whistling a tune. The sun was shining brightly; it was another beautiful day in early spring and Irwin felt remarkably good about the work he’d gotten done so far.

He settled down on his usual bench in the park, unwrapped his usual peanut butter sandwich (no jelly, it always dripped onto his shirt so he chose to forgo it), and took a bite.

A body landed solidly beside him on his bench and he almost jumped out of his skin. No one ever sat next to him. That was how he liked it. Irwin sighed, shoving his glasses back up on his nose and taking another bite out of his sandwich.

Abruptly a hot cup of coffee was waved in his face. “Figured I’d come pester you on your lunch break, seeing as how you’ll be helping me out.”

Oh. “Miss, this is technically harassment.” Irwin said sternly, trying to ignore how delicious the coffee smelled. He was failing. Coffee was one of his few vices, but he usually only indulged in a single cup every morning. Being overly caffeinated led to shaky hands, and in his line of work that meant mistakes.

Her laugh almost got him to smile. Clearly she was dangerous. “Yeah yeah, isn’t that supposed to be my line? I brought my lunch too. There’s no law saying I can’t sit next to you on a park bench and offer you one of my two suspicious coffees.”

“You don’t even know me, Miss. What if I don’t drink coffee?”

“I saw the way you ogled the cup. Nice try, Mr. Schyster.” She tugged on his hand and put the second coffee in it gently. “Here. You’re doing the world a service by keeping me from drinking two cups in a row.”

Irwin momentarily debated dropping the coffee and running for his life. This was quickly turning into a social situation, and he knew full well that he was outmatched. “Thank you.” He finally replied.

“He’s got manners! Your mom must be so proud.” She teased, tucking in to her own sandwich. It looked like a somewhat revolting mixture of cheap white bread, marshmallow Fluff and...were those cornflakes? Schyster only barely managed to contain his gag, hurrying to finish his sandwich before his stomach lost its nerve.

“How long have you been doing this, Mr. Schyster? What got you into it?” She asked after slogging through a few bites of her thick, sticky mess of a sandwich. “The tax stuff, not eating your lunch alone.”

“I…” Irwin paused, his brow furrowing. He had found himself opening his mouth to answer without a second thought, which was rather startling. He had never been much for conversation. “My father would sit at the kitchen table late into the night, doing all the taxes out. He was abysmal at them but having someone else do it was too expensive for him to justify.”

She nodded. “Understandable. You guys probably got audited a lot, huh?”

Irwin shook his head. “Only two or three times. But it was legitimately terrifying for my parents when it did happen. I decided…I mean when I was relatively young, I realized that this wasn’t a good solution. I’ve always been a number-minded individual, so I went to the library and got out everything that I could on the I.R.S., on tax systems and financing...how it all works. I was a child. I wanted to know everything. I dedicated time after school, studied through the summers. It really is a fascinating subject, so many things constantly in flux while others never change. I went to college for it and I guess the rest, as they say, is history.”

“So you were the family hero, huh?”

Irwin frowned. He’d never really thought of it that way. It made sense though. “I prefer the term ‘savior’. Paints me in a better light.” He replied dryly.

She almost spat out her coffee, giving him a sideways glare. “Was that a joke?” She coughed. “Warn me, I could have died!”

Irwin couldn’t help his smile then, successfully camouflaging it by taking another sip of coffee.

“What would you have done, if you didn’t succeed at being the family savior?” She asked when a minute or two of quiet had passed.

“I’m not sure.” Schyster mused, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe take up sailing. The idea has always appealed to me. I think I’d like to be the captain of a schooner.”

“The captain, huh?”

“Naturally! I would be the most knowledgeable. Obviously the captain.” Irwin glanced at his watch and got to his feet, dusting the crumbs from his sandwich off of his trousers. “Lunch time is over. Shall we get started, Miss?”

She quickly crammed the remainder of her sandwich into her mouth and practically jumped up off the bench. “Fin’ly!” She mumbled, grinning.

…

He had originally thought that perhaps she was just lazy when it came to numbers and that this would be a quick fix. Not that it mattered, that was how he made a living, after all. But her taxes from last year had been improperly filed. To the point where Irwin would suspect it had been deliberate. There were the marks of a professional all over her forms but they had been botched so royally it was incredible.

There was an ex-husband involved, maybe just an ex-fiancé or ex-boyfriend, one that made her an absolute mess when she realized that his name was still on some of the paperwork. They didn’t share a last name, but apparently they had shared a life. Irwin had never heard somebody apologize so many times in his life, continuing to silently fill out his forms while she interacted with this…cretin over the phone.

“I...I understand. I’m sorry I bothered you.” She sounded close to tears. Irwin glanced up, instantly made uncomfortable by her facial expression. She placed the phone gently down on the receiver and then dropped her head into her hands. “Mr. Schyster, I’m so sorry, he won’t-“

“Then we make a new account at a different bank under your name.” Irwin said curtly. “Standard procedure.” Which wasn’t technically true. In his experience though, if people thought it was anything but the standard they tended to ask for more. And nothing irritated Irwin quite like blatantly greedy people.

She looked up at him with her face all tear-streaked and Irwin was struck by how young she seemed. “You can do that?” She asked.

“What kind of question is that?” Irwin pushed his glasses up on his nose.

It was entering his busy season and the clients started piling up, but Irwin always found himself making time for her. One day he even took his lunch ten minutes late, which was unheard of for him. She’d promised she would be there with coffee so he waited though, and sure enough she showed up. Schyster wondered in the back of his mind when she would stop this…whatever the hell it was. Were they friends?

Not that it mattered, he was a grown man after all.

…Acquaintances maybe. Associates.

The day finally came to put the finishing touches on her forms. Irwin knew he should be relieved, it meant he could bid her farewell and not have to worry about her damn screwed-up, numbers crossed-through and crossed-through again, ‘initial here here and here’ paperwork. At least until next April. But all he felt was melancholy, straightening his suspenders with a quiet snap and rising from his desk to stare out the window to the street. It was raining. Irwin wasn’t a man prone to poetry or moping, so the effect the dreary weather was having on him was immensely worrisome.

It’s not the weather and you know it, Schyster.

Irwin shook his head, busying himself with watching the morning traffic go by. He couldn’t really afford this little break. He had so much catching up to do but his body seemed unwilling to move, keeping him rooted by the window.

He was just returning to his desk as she erupted through the door, making him almost miss his chair when he went to sit. “Raining cats and dogs out there, Mr. Schyster!” Her grasp of the obvious was absolutely impeccable.

Irwin did his best to look severe, peering over his glasses at her. He had been told many times that he had a glare that would stop misbehaving children in their tracks, perhaps it would work on a confusing (yet damnable attractive) woman as well.

“Geez, what’s with the look? Is it because I’m dripping on your rug? Are you okay? You sick?” She sloughed off her sopping jacket and then leaned over his desk to press a hand to his forehead. Irwin flinched away, making her pause. “…Mr. Schyster?” Her voice had gone soft. She looked worried, of all things.

Irwin cleared his throat. “Just tired. It’s been busy lately.” He started shuffling the papers on his desk aimlessly, trying to look occupied so he wouldn’t have to maintain eye contact. “We need to get your papers signed. Hopefully if you return next year this won’t be such a damnable fiasco.”

“Oh I’m definitely coming back if you'll have me. You’re an absolute genius when it comes to this. You even explain stuff sometimes and I can understand it. You’ve totally earned that ‘savior’ moniker.”

Her praise made him flush. Irwin tugged nervously at one of his suspenders, feeling a little overwhelmed. Usually he got a handshake, a promise to come back the next year. This was…unexpected. “Miss, we need…I have a lot of other clients and you’ve taken up an exorbitant amount of my time as is. So please.” His pen clicked loudly in the silence of his pause. “Sign your papers so you can be free of this.”

So we can be free of this.

She took an eternity to sign everything, reading and rereading and asking questions. But then again, not double checking her papers last time had gotten her into this mess to begin with, so Irwin could understand her care.

“What are you going to do now?” Irwin didn’t know why he asked. It was pointless, a few more minutes and she would be gone.

She looked up, pausing to smile brightly at him. “Get my own apartment, of course! Get an apartment, get a better job…having someone hold financial sway over you is an absolutely terrifying experience. I want to be secure so that it never happens again, Mr. Schyster.”

“Why did you…” Irwin trailed off, flushing again. It was hardly his business, what did he care? Just finish signing the papers, woman!

“Because I thought he was someone else.” Her smile had gone wistful. “I believed what he said. I let myself get caught up and…well, full of silly ideas and then before I knew it I was stuck in a nightmare.”

Schyster snorted, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. “You sound like an adolescent.” Christ, he hadn’t meant to vocalize himself in such a cruel way. But...the idea of getting all tangled in emotions, to the point where you would believe anything the other person said? It just seemed so childish.

“I was, actually. Only fifteen.”

Irwin wasn’t sure what hyperventilating felt like, but it had to be close to this. Her birth-date was all over her papers, hers and that man’s. There was a twenty-two year difference between them. He hadn’t really ruminated on it but now it made sense. She had been too young to know better, probably surviving on pretty words and promises of affection alone. Maybe her home life was troubled, maybe she’d had nowhere else to go and had clung to an older man who made her feel special or safe and then…

“Christ.” He muttered. He felt nauseous.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset, Mr. Schyster. That’s just…” She shrugged. “I mean, that’s how it was. I have to figure out how to live on my own now. I was allowed to have a job, of course, but it's not one that will support me. Just give me a little spending money or something. I’ve applied at a couple of places, although without a home address it’s been-”

“You don’t have a place to live?!”

“I do! I definitely do. I…I stay at the women’s shelter.” She sounded defiant, almost like she was daring him to judge her. Schyster had more pressing matters to worry about, though.

“Christ.” Irwin put his head in his hands. “Where the hell are they supposed to mail this? You don’t even have a P.O. box, do you?”

“...I hadn't thought of that.” She admitted weakly after a moment or two of silence. “I guess it'll go to him, won't it? To my old address. God, God I'm so stupid.”

Schyster could tell before he even moved for the first drawer that this was a terrible idea. Rifling through it, he selected a different pen with great care. The second drawer was the one that held all his forms. Hopefully this would go much quicker when he was just copying down the information instead of deciphering it from the previous year's forms.

“What are you doing?” She asked warily, getting to her feet and leaning over his desk so she could see the papers better. “Oh no, you're-”

“I have to do this all over again. Correction fluid isn't allowed on documents like these.” Irwin was proud of himself for keeping his voice steady when what he really wanted to do was lose his goddamn mind for a few minutes. Then, have a cup of coffee and get on with it.

Christ. All that time, wasted. She at least looked properly chastised. Well...she looked like she was going to burst into tears, really. “Don't cry.” He said sternly when he heard a threatening sniffle.

“S-Sorry.”

“You don't need to apologize, but you don't need to cry either. It'll be alright.” When the hell had he turned into someone who gave reassurances? Irwin was appalled at himself. “Crying solves nothing.”

“You've just been so patient with me for this and I don't...I can't even help with any of it.” She mumbled, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her threadbare denim jacket. “If I hadn’t been so stupid--”

“Now you know better, though.” Irwin pointed out. “’Fool me once, shame on you’ and all that. God willing, for both of our sakes, something like this never happens again.”

“Yeah.” Her voice was forlorn as she curled up in the chair. Having her knees up with her arms wrapped around them appeared to be her favorite position, regardless of how uncomfortable it seemed. If it had been anyone else Irwin would have been furious about having those mud-caked sneakers on the seat, but for some reason when it came to her he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

The slow drip, drip, drip of her jacket on the edge of hardwood floor beside his door practically echoed in the silence. Schyster was more than thankful that this was essentially brainless work, otherwise that might have been incredibly distracting. He had a ‘flip’ clock for a reason; he couldn’t stand the monotonous ticking of an analog clock in the relative stillness of his office.

He could have told her to come back later, once he was finished with everything. Where the hell is she supposed to go, Schyster? It’s pouring out. You love your solitude that much, that you’d send this poor woman off into the rain for an hour or two? Schyster winced inwardly, a little ashamed of himself.

She had fallen asleep by the time he was done, her cheek resting on her knees while she dozed. Something, Irwin wasn’t sure what, tugged at his chest, and he found himself stapling her papers together and carefully putting them off to the side before opening up his next file. Her being here wasn’t hurting his progress at all, what was the harm in letting her sleep a little longer?

She woke herself up almost four hours later when one of her feet slipped off the chair. The disgruntled look on her face almost made Irwin laugh.

Almost.

She signed the amended forms without studying them at all this time. Irwin wanted to scold her for it, but she was obviously saddled with more pressing matters. Plus, if he was being honest, it was a bit of an ego boost to know that she trusted him to the point where she didn’t think she needed to look everything over. “I need to--“ She yawned widely, stretching her arms after she dropped the pen. “'Scuse me, sorry. Need to get back to check in for the night.”

“You…do you want me to call you a cab? Is it a far walk?” The half-incredulous, half-grateful look she gave him almost made up for the extra paperwork he’d dealt with. Irwin cleared his throat, looking back down at his desk. “A-After all, it’s still raining you know.”

“I should be okay. It's not too far.” She started putting on her coat, yawning again.

Irwin still felt like he ought to do something, logic and common decency practically demanded it. He stood from his desk and walked over to open the door for her. “Use this.” His umbrella hardly saw the light of day, usually just sitting forgotten behind the door to his office. “It's pouring out, and you catching cold isn't going to help you find a better job. No potential employer will look at you twice when you have to use a Kleenex every minute.” His smile was brief but warm as he pressed the curved handle of the umbrella into her palm; hopefully it was enough to soften the blow of his less-than-charitable words.

She stared up at him for a minute, full-blown stared, her mouth slightly agape. Irwin didn't know why he finally reached out but he did, gently closing her mouth with his index finger on the underside of her chin.

“You…I-I’ve never seen you smile before. It’s…you have a nice smile.” She stammered.

Everything seemed to grind to a halt as Irwin processed this information. A nice smile wasn’t exactly something you could take to the bank, and yet it was apparently important enough that she felt the need to mention it. As if it was a good quality, or one worth commenting on at least.

He raised an eyebrow and she flushed bright red, then headed off down the hallway without another word.

Clean Gene was thoroughly unamused by the puddle of water that seeped out from beneath Irwin’s door into the hallway.

...

Irwin scolded himself for days, weeks afterwards. What the hell had he been thinking? Touching a client, and in such an inappropriate manner! The audacity of his actions knew no bounds. He’d probably terrified her. He didn’t know why that concerned him so much but it did, it did.

Hasn’t she been through enough, Schyster?

Irwin knew he was…odd was probably a kind word. Obsessed with his work, paranoid about money to a fault. Growing up with so little had forced him into a vicious cycle of prioritizing needs almost exclusively, while wants were left in the dust. Any and all luxuries were agonized over, budgeted for. Hell, he’d waited for almost six months to buy a new pair of suspenders because he knew there would be a spring sale and he just…the old ones still worked alright, the teeth were a little worn and the elastic was starting to sag but they worked.

He was odd. Private and severe, dressed in a manner that fit more in the ‘Big Band’ forties than it did the early nineties, egghead to a fault, he knew he was odd. But it had never bothered him before.

She liked my smile.

Why the hell was that a sticking point? Never mind that no adult had ever commented on any part of his physical appearance, just on his incredible mind for numbers and his dedication. Never mind that her words had made him feel warm inside in a way that Mr. DiBiase had never managed with his long-winded motivational speeches.

Never mind that the way she had looked up at him, mouth slightly open and eyes wide, had made him want to…hell, it made him want to kiss her. Which was ludicrous, she was a client and no compliments or kind words on her part would change that.

When her refund check arrived in his mailbox, he brought it to his office and sat, staring at the phone for over an hour while clenching and unclenching his fists at random. He loathed talking on the phone with a passion.

Suspender up on one shoulder, down on the other, switch sides indefinitely. If he kept fidgeting maybe he would run out of time in the day to make the call.  

I stay at the women’s shelter.

Irwin grimaced. It wasn’t exactly fair of him to withhold her only method of attaining security just because phones made him nervous. The number of her workplace was scribbled in the margins of his notes, he could at least leave a message.

Of course, someone picked up.

“Diesel's Pizza, what can I get for ya?”

Without intending to Irwin rolled right into the usual spiel he left on his clients’ answering machines. “Hello, my name is Irwin Schyster. I’m calling because-”

“Wait, didja’ say Schyster? Hang on a sec.” There was a loud scuffing noise, like the man had covered the receiver with his palm. His words still came through though. “'Ey yo! Kid! It’s for you!”

“What do you mean ‘it’s for me’? I don’t get-”

“I mean, it’s for you. It’s that guy, the one you ain’t shut up about.”

“Ramon! Give me--he can probably hear you!” She sounded panicked.

Irwin pushed his glasses up on his nose. ‘The one you ain’t shut up about.’ Him? She was talking about him? At her workplace? But why?

“H-Hi, Mr. Schyster. Is something wrong again?” Irwin distinctly heard some strange smacking noises in the background. “Knock it off, Razor!”

“Not at all, I just have your check here. When can you pick it up?” Irwin tugged at one of his suspenders. “Would it be easier for me to bring it to you directly?”

“Oh no, I don’t want to bug you with that! I’m sure you’re busy, I can come over on my lunch--”

“She’s just leavin' now, aren't you sweetie?” Another deep voice butted in, softer than that Ramon character.

“B-but Kevin, I’m-”

“-Just leavin' now, yeah, I know. Get a move on!” The phone clicked and Irwin was left with the dial tone beeping in his ear.

She seemed exhausted when she made an appearance. Irwin noticed that she still had a dishrag sticking out of the back pocket of her jeans. “I…oh my God, thank you.” She looked at him like he was the best thing she’d ever seen. It made him feel immensely uncomfortable but also a little...a little good. “You won’t get in trouble for having them mail it to your apartment, will you?” She asked tentatively, making no move to take the check from his desk.

Irwin shook his head, clearing his throat and rustling some papers around. “No, I believe the check going into your account will be proof enough that I’m no cheat.”

“I…this is so much money.” She sounded lost, the tip of one Band-Aid-wrapped finger smoothing over the check. Like she was afraid to touch it.

“Do you have a budget planned out? Investing ideas are a little bold at this stage, but have you thought about them, about the future at all?” Irwin frowned when she shook her head. “You may want to look into your options. I know…” He hesitated, not wanting to sound inadvertently cruel again. “I know that seems like a lot of money, but before you know it, it’ll be gone again and you’ll be left with nothing but an empty stomach and an apartment you can no longer afford.”

“You’re right, of course.” She said softly after a minute, sitting heavily in the seat across from him. “I’ve got no real plans, I haven't had hardly a free minute to think. Kinda’ been winging it. It’s worked out alright so far, Kevin's given me a lot more hours and stuff. I haven't learned how to throw a pizza right yet though.”

Irwin could feel a headache coming on. He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together on the surface of his desk as he fixed her with a stern look. She briefly held his gaze, before ducking her head and starting to pick at the already-frayed hole in the knee of her jeans. He wasn't expecting the quiet, “I'm sorry,” nor was he expecting the feeling he got in his chest at the words. “It's alright. Being on your own teaches you a variety of fast, hard lessons. You've made it this far.” He cleared his throat. “When is your shift over? I'll see if I can make a rough budget draft up for you to pick up on your way home.”

“You...really? You'd do that for me?”

“It will be very rough.” Irwin warned her, trying to stall whatever outburst of gratitude would come next. “Bare bones, I'm busy today and I-”

She got up from her chair and essentially threw herself across his desk to hug him fiercely. She nearly broke his glasses when her shoulder bumped his nose. “You're the best.” She said, her voice sounding a little quavery. “I know you don't want anyone else to know that, but you really are. I should be out around te-”

The customary knock on Irwin's door was the only warning they got before Mr. DiBiase was opening it and stepping in. “Whoa! Am I interrupting something?” The self-proclaimed 'Million-Dollar-Man' held up his hands, chuckling incredulously. “Schyster you sly dog, didn't think you had it in you!”

“I believe it's time for you to leave, Miss.” Irwin couldn't tell whether he was embarrassed or infuriated, but either way, enough was enough. She went absolutely scarlet, obviously just as flustered as he was and stammering out an apology before making her retreat.

Ted swatted Irwin on the shoulder after she was gone, propping his hip up on the desk. “Whoops, looks like she left something--”

Schyster quickly snatched the check away from Ted's questing fingers, whipped open a drawer at random and dropped the check into it. “Can I assist you in any way, Mr. DiBiase?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“Aw come on Irwin, don't be like that! You know all you'd have to do is mention that you had uh...company, and I'd leave you alone.”

“Charming policy.” Irwin replied dryly. “You tell all of your employees that rendezvous in their offices are allowed with proper notification, Mr. DiBiase?”

Ted laughed again, a good roaring one this time. “You're a card, Schyster! Nope, I'd only make that kind of exception for you. No offense, but you seem like you could use it!”

“I'm honored sir, truly, but I don't fraternize with clients on the clock.” Irwin straightened his glasses. He didn't know why he bothered with Mr. DiBiase, sarcasm always seemed to fly over his head. “She's just...odd in the way that she expresses her thanks. Juvenile.”

“I think I could live with a little more oddness in my life, if that's the case!” Ted grinned, giving Irwin a wink. Irwin sighed heavily and DiBiase relented, starting to rattle on about how he was trying to buy more property upstate, “They keep saying they won't sell, but everybody's got a price, Schyster!”

…

Irwin ended up working long past four. Ted had a way of demanding all his attention, regardless of whether he could afford to spare it or not. So here he sat at quarter to ten, several sheets of graph paper spread out around him as he made the finishing touches on the budget that might never see the light of day. Factoring in food and miscellaneous expenses was always the hardest part for him when it came to his own budget, he could only imagine how much worse it may be for her.

His irritation had cooled a little. More than a little, if he was being honest. He was too tired to be annoyed with her behavior, childish and compromising though it had been.

Irwin tucked everything into a file that said 'Budget' on the tab in small, red letters and put her check in the pocket of his shirt for safekeeping, then pulled on his long overcoat and turned off the desk lamp.  I have to be back here in less than twelve hours. Ridiculous.

Diesel's Pizza was relatively close by, a short walk up the street and into the plaza it resided in. Schyster felt like his legs were betraying him, as he was there long before he was ready. The neon Open sign flickered in the front window of the establishment, a few patrons still lingering inside with their preferred slices.

He was startled by the ringing of the bell attached to the door as he pushed it open, wincing at the noise and the way it instantly drew attention to him. But he wasn't nearly as awkward in person as he was on the phone, only just resisting the urge to glare over his glasses at the large man in the violently pink shirt behind the counter.

“Christ, you're a cheery-lookin' guy ain't ya'? 'Ey chica, he's here!” Irwin recognized Ramon's voice from the phone call earlier. But how on earth could the man know who he was?

“Who's...oh.” She looked like she wanted to vanish through the linoleum flooring, twisting the dishrag between her hands as she stood on the threshold of what Irwin could only assume was the kitchen.

“Everything okay? You need me to toss him out?” Another man even taller than Ramon stepped out from the kitchen, resting a hand on her shoulder. He narrowed his eyes at Irwin, who stopped resisting the urge to glare.

“No no, it's okay Kevin. I um...I had something to take care of still.” She said, trying to wiggle out from beneath Kevin's hand. “Tax stuff, y'know.”

“Oh, more of that fuckin' Greek.” Ramon groaned, “Let her talk with the poindexter, Nash. Keep all that mumbo-jumbo outta' your 'stablishment.”

“If you need us...” Nash trailed off, his lip curling.

“I assure you gentlemen that there is nothing shady going on with our interactions.” Irwin went full stiff-business, figuring a little formality couldn't hurt in this place. Judging from the two men behind the counter, it wasn't exactly their bread and butter. “I am merely here because she forgot her paperwork earlier. I also included a few beginner investment ideas, something I'm sure neither of you are interested in.”

“Whoa there chico, hold up, you callin' us dumb or somethin'? Nash, I think-”

“Razor, please.” Kevin interrupted the other man, tilting his head to the side as he studied Irwin. “You aren't here to fuck with the kid?”

“Hardly.” Irwin wasn't sure what the hell possessed him to raise an eyebrow. “She's my client.”

“Alright then. Go ahead, sweetie.” Kevin gave her a gentle push forwards, making her stumble. “Talk to your nerd man.”

“Kevin!” She hissed, obviously mortified.

Nerd man? Really? Maybe it's the suspenders. Irwin opened the file up on the counter, helping himself to the space there. If they wanted to alpha-male posture by all means he would posture. “So here's the rough budget draft, it doesn't factor in all the details but I left portions blank for you to fill in on your own.” He tapped a finger down on one such blank area. “I tried to do as much with as little as possible. I'm not sure what you're doing in terms of a living situation, electricity may be more than I factored but it's also a necessity so you'll have to adjust. I...” Irwin slowed to a stop as he realized that he'd garnered an audience. She looked overwhelmed, biting her lip while she just...stared at him again. Razor and Nash hung over her shoulders, Razor chewing on a toothpick avidly.

“You catch any of that, big guy?” He asked after a second or two, shooting Nash an incredulous look.

Surprisingly, the other man nodded. “It's good, Ramon. He's takin' care of her. C'mon, we've got the uh. Oven. Need to clean the...the brisket. Chef stuff, he wouldn't understand.” Kevin winked at Irwin, catching one of Ramon's lapels and hauling him back into the kitchen.

Irwin sighed. “Look, if this isn't making sense or if it's too much right now I can give you this and be--”

“No no, it is! I'm just...I'm...you didn't get in trouble earlier, did you? That guy was your boss, right?” She asked timidly. “Would it be a good idea for me to maybe come in and try to explain myself, or will that just make things worse?”

“Mr. DiBiase has been my employer for a few years now. I detailed the situation to the fullest extent of my abilities, and I believe he understands.” Irwin ‘harrumph’ed. “You coming in after the fact would probably be more detrimental than anything else, considering the fact that DiBiase was incredibly willing to encourage illicit behavior in my office.”

“He…what?” She sputtered.

“Well, perhaps I worded that poorly. He seems to believe that I need to ‘relax’, to put it in layman’s terms. Regardless of the method.” Irwin was startled when a hysterical little giggle exploded out of her. “Miss?”

“Well shit, anybody could see that you need to relax Mr. Schyster!” She snickered. “Just by the way you freeze up when I hug you, never mind anything else.”

Irwin tugged at the collar of his shirt self-consciously. “I had no idea there were so many people concerned about my...well-being.” He remarked dryly after a minute, making her snort.

“Once I’m settled in and stable, you can bet your ass that I’m buying you dinner.”

“Miss, that’s technically--“

“Yeah yeah, bribery, harassment, whatever Mr. Schyster. I already know I’m a bad person, I just want to say thank you. And give you the opportunity to loosen up a little.” She lightly punched his shoulder. “So it’s a date. I’ll keep you posted. You can’t refuse. It’s bad manners.”

“I--”

“She’s stubborn man, give up!” Kevin called from the kitchen.

“…We will be splitting the bill. I’m not allowing you to pay for everything. That’s rude.” Schyster said finally, trying to sound more annoyed than he was. He definitely wasn’t pleased by the way she smiled at him.

Definitely. Wasn’t.

…

He hadn’t meant to forget. He’d actually been looking forward to their little outing, planned for a Friday evening at a hole-in-the-wall style Italian place. But one thing led to another. DiBiase had finally gotten what he wanted when it came to the land he’d been trying to purchase and Irwin was kept so busy drafting the papers for the agreement that he lost track of time.

The thunderous knock on his door made him jump, and his brow furrowed when he looked at the clock. That couldn’t be the time, four fifty-six? It was dark out!

“Irwin I know you’re in there, I saw your light from the street!” She sounded furious.

“It’s not locked! What time is it?” He asked when she had opened the door. Judging from the expression on her face, it was…late.

“What is all this?” She gestured at the uncharacteristically cluttered surface of his desk with quick, jerky motions.

“A personal project from Mr. DiBiase. You didn’t answer my question.”

“It’s…well we were supposed to meet at seven, Mr. Schyster.” She had her hands on her hips and she looked about ready to tear him a new one. She’d dressed rather nice, much nicer than usual. A black skirt which bordered on being too short, but her nylons kept it decent. A button-down shirt, top two buttons undone. Just enough. She had obviously put some thought into this. She huffed out a breath and tilted her head up to stare at the ceiling.

Irwin was awestruck and a little terrified, taking a second to collect himself before stating, “That would imply that it is later than seven.”

“Irwin, you...I mean, if you didn't want to go out with me all you had to do was say so. I looked so dumb, sitting there all alone. And I felt dumb, too!” She covered her face with her hands. “The waiter kept on coming over and asking me what I wanted and it was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life!” Her anger seemed to have gone more the teary route. He knew he would have to work quickly to nip that in the bud, she would only feel worse if she started crying. Christ, did he feel like an asshole!

“It was not my intent to stand you up.” Irwin said firmly, getting to his feet and turning the clock on his desk around so that it faced her. “I've actually been looking forward to this all week, if I'm going to be honest. You look absolutely lovely.” She snorted, probably in disbelief. Irwin carried on. “Mr. DiBiase is finalizing a sale and paperwork tends to occupy most of my attention in this field. Also it seems that my clock is broken. Not an excuse, mind you, an explanation. I...I offer my most sincere apologies, and I ask for another chance.”

Footsteps approaching in the hallway interrupted what promised to be a great answer. The expression on her face changed rapidly from irritated to worried. “Oh shit, is that-?”

“If it’s late, he’s the only one in the building norma--what on earth are you...?” Irwin sputtered as she shoved him out of the way and ducked beneath his desk.

“Shh!” She hissed, pressing a finger to her lips. “I don’t want to get you in trouble!”

“You didn’t the last time! Will you-”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t dressed like this last time now was I, smartypants? Just shush!”

Before Irwin could respond the knock on his door came and then Ted poked his head in. “Schyster! I didn’t think you were still here. How’s it coming?”

“As well as can be expected, sir.” Irwin stood awkwardly beside his desk, barely daring to lean against it for fear that he might draw attention to the woman beneath it. Thank God the front of it was solid! Her ducking under there had escalated this whole situation, if only she’d stayed put! If she was found now--

Well, it wouldn’t look good, that’s for sure.

Ted planted himself in the chair in front of the desk, waving his hand. “Sit down, Schyster, I need to talk with you about a few things.”

Christ.

Irwin chanced a glance down at her and she offered an incredibly helpful shrug in reply. He gingerly sat in his chair and scooted it in as far as he dared. He couldn’t help his flinch when her hands gripped the underside of the cushion, urging him closer. What the hell was she doing?!

Irwin coughed, opening the top drawer on the left and flipping through his files until he came to the one labeled ‘DiBiase Land Venture’.

“Ah, that’s what I like to see Schyster!” DiBiase said approvingly, craning his neck to study the documents. “Impeccable, but then I’d expect nothing less from you.”

Irwin felt her cheek rest against his thigh and had to grapple with the armrests of his chair momentarily. Having her that close…he could feel the heat of her skin even through his pants. He swallowed hard. One of her fingers started tracing slow, torturous circles on the inside of his left thigh.

“You know Schyster, I’ve been thinking. Maybe, if you retooled the writing here, and here, we could get a few more acres out of these tight-fisted idiots.” Ted tapped the paper in two different spots, oblivious to the fact that Irwin was having a bear of a time trying to pay attention to him.

Her nose was abruptly nuzzling at his groin. Irwin sucked in a startled breath and Ted looked up at him for his input. “I uh…yes, absolutely sir. I can get it done.” Schyster fumbled, attempting to remember what the hell he’d even been rambling about.

“Good man!” Ted grinned and then returned his gaze to the papers in front of him.

Irwin risked dropping a hand underneath the desk. He wasn’t really sure why, maybe to push her back. Maybe to pull her in. He brushed against her hair and then, in a fit of desperation, he cupped her cheek blindly. She suckled his index finger into her mouth, teasing the pad of it with her tongue.

“Schyster, are you even listening to me?” Ted asked, raising an eyebrow. Irwin flushed, nodding, and it seemed to satisfy Mr. DiBiase as he started talking about having potential investors look over the documents. “Warrior and Steiner will probably lose their minds once they find out that I finally bagged this.” Ted said gleefully. “I told them time and time again, Schyster, everybody's got a price. They never listen!”

Irwin chewed on his lower lip as he felt the button and zipper of his slacks come apart. She was...strangely gentle, stroking his cock through the slit in his boxers. He was embarrassingly hard already, the nearness of her combined with the thrill of getting caught no doubt to blame. When she took him into her mouth though, was when things got a little...intense. He couldn't stifle the groan he let out, attempting to camouflage it into a yawn after Ted gave him another look.

“Sorry Schyster, I promise I'll let you go home. I just need to confirm the wording on the last portion...here! We need to change that to something a little less vague, don't you think? The last thing I want is them trying to weasel their way around a negotiation.” DiBiase pointed out, tapping the sheet beside him.

Irwin, in one last bid to pretend that he was paying attention, tried to lean forward over the desk . All he succeeded in doing, however, was thrusting his cock further into the warm, velvety embrace of her mouth. He fought for control, his hips shuddering as he wrestled not only with himself but also her, because she seemed more than content to swallow him down as far as he decided to go. “O-Of course, Mr. DiBiase.” He cursed inwardly, that hitch in his breath nearly did him in. She'd started worked the base of his shaft with her hand and it caught him off guard, having a mouth and hand moving in unison on his cock. Was this his punishment for getting caught up in his work? Because if so, he might lose track of time more often.

Finally, finally, Ted stood up, straightening his tie. “Well Schyster I think I've taken up enough of your night. You know what you're doing! I'll be in bright and early tomorrow morning to give everything another once-over, and hopefully we'll be done by lunch.” He held out his hand and Irwin almost bit a hole in his lip in an effort to keep silent while he shook his employer's hand. “Get some rest soon, Schyster. You deserve it!” Ted said warmly before closing the door behind him.

“Christ.” Irwin snarled once he was sure DiBiase was far enough down the hall that he wouldn't hear him, pushing his chair back just a fraction so he could see her, so he could card his fingers through her hair.

“Hi.” She seemed almost shy, which was absolutely moronic to think when her tongue had been on his cock mere seconds ago. “Sorry.”

“You are not, so don't lie. I can't stand liars.” Irwin replied shakily, making her giggle. “I'm the one who's sorry. I honestly didn't mean to abandon you to dinner alone. There's no need to torture me.”

“Mm, maybe I'll take a rain check.” She teased, thumb swiping back and forth directly beneath his cock head. “If you make it worth my while.”

“How can I convince you?” This game definitely had merit, if it was going in the direction Irwin thought.

She bit her lip, looking up at him through her lashes. “On your desk?”

Schyster swallowed hard. “My--”

“Yes.”

Irwin shoved his chair back even further and stood, then caught her around the waist. She practically melted against him as with one quick motion he pushed hours of his hard work off the desk and onto the floor. “Are you sure about this?” Irwin asked, tilting her chin up. “You're not obligated just because you've 'gotten me started', so to speak. I'll probably miss more things, you know. Anniversaries.” He warned. “I've...I've never had to worry about anyone else before. This isn't exactly something I do lightly.”

“I don't either.” She breathed, taking his glasses off for him and slipping them into the front pocket of his shirt. “Please.”

“We'll have a real date next time.” Irwin promised quietly, fingers slowly and carefully rolling her nylons down her thighs. She whimpered at his words, grabbing his shoulders when he crouched and lifted her up to lay on the desk. He quickly shrugged his suspenders off over his shoulders so he could pull down his slacks and boxers, hissing out a breath at the feeling of the cloth on his aching cock. “Christ, you're so beautiful.” Endearments were normally difficult for him, but when it was the truth it made it easier. “May I kiss you?”

“Irwin.” Her exasperation was oddly heartwarming. Her fingers dug into the skin on the back of his neck as she pulled him down to her mouth. “All the time. Whenever you want.” She murmured between kisses.

Irwin wasn't sure if it was appropriate to laugh in relief so he stifled it, focusing on tugging her panties down and dropping them on the floor with her shoes and nylons. “I look forward to it.”

“Good.” She reached down and gave his cock a few lazy strokes, her boldness probably the most attractive thing he had ever encountered in his life.

He couldn't help the way he surged forward hungrily, all but pinning her hips to the desk while she guided his cock into her cunt. She was wet, tight enough that he lost his breath for a second as he wondered at that, at the fact that she wanted him like this.

He knew for a fact that even without the oral warm-up he probably wasn't going to last very long. He debated warning her but then she arched up against him, moaning and raking her fingers down his back as her walls gripped his cock rhythmically. “Christ, Christ, I--” Irwin shook his head and hooked one smooth leg over his shoulder, pressing kisses to her thigh as he pushed her skirt up a little higher. His fingers sought out her clit with relatively minimal fumbling and she bit her lip, her eyes rolling back.

Her hands fluttered restlessly over his shoulders, her voice whimpering his name and please the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. Irwin was legitimately lost, just moving with her body and feeling everything, every breath she took and every sound she made singing across his nerves. This was juvenile, it was frenzied and it shouldn't have been this good but it was, it was and it was so confusing, so beautifully overwhelming that he hardly knew what to do with himself.

“Thank you.” He finally panted, his fingers working in small circles over her clit and making her squirm. “Thank you so much.”

“Yes-!” She gasped, her body shaking underneath him as she came. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him in for a kiss, using his mouth to muffle those wonderful moans she kept making. Hopefully in the near future he would be able to focus on coaxing more of them out of her. “Please come, please, I need you to, I need you to, please.” The way she begged him, egging him on with trembling fingers kneading at the fabric of his shirt was too much for him to resist. She wanted him.

The realization hit Irwin like a punch to the gut, leaving him all breathless and light-headed as he spilled into her. She buried her face in his neck, crooning soft nonsense words to him while he groaned and rolled his hips and just was, for a moment.

“Oh my God.” He managed to say when he could speak again, tenderly brushing the hair back from her face like he'd wanted to so many times before. “You're amazing.” She went bright red and he couldn't help his smile, his laugh. “Especially when you look like that. Amazing.”

“Shh, what if your boss hears?” She whacked his shoulder, unable to hide her own smile.

“I don't care.” Irwin replied, kissing her fiercely. “You're amazing. I'm just sorry it took this long for me to realize.”

“So...you want to come back to my place? I promise you can continue to be as amazed as you want.” She teased, wrapping her legs around his hips and pulling him in closer. “And I'll have you up in time to get back here for eight. Sound good to you?”

“Mm, the idea has merit.” Irwin bumped their foreheads together, giving her a serious look. “Thank you.”

Her eyes softened and she rumpled his hair, taking his glasses back out of his pocket and settling them onto his face. “Any time, all the time.”