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Charlie was nervous. It was his first day working at MI5 and he felt extremely out of his depth. When he first applied for this job, he never expected to actually be hired. He was only 18 and he’d barely been out of sixth form a month when he decided to take the plunge and do it. His mother was the one who pushed him to, telling him that even at his young age he was more than qualified to work in this position. So, he did, and now he was wondering why he decided to do it in the first place.
Everyone around him was so much older and experienced. Even only being here a day, he could feel them looking down their nose at him. He didn’t go to Eton or any of the other public boarding schools like most of the other people here. That combined with his young age meant he was immediately made to feel ostracised even before they started talking to him or gave him a chance. It felt like his years at school all over again.
He managed to make it through the first morning without any major blunder. The man assigned to help him around his first day, Ian, he introduced himself as, disappeared to his friends as soon as they got to the first meeting room and Charlie was left to find his way around by himself. He managed to find his lab after searching for a while but now after lunch he couldn’t seem to find where he should be next.
Charlie stood on the corner, trying to work out whether he needed to continue or take this turning, when someone pushed their way past, sending him and all his files sprawling all over the corridor. He sat there for a minute, trying not to let the overwhelming day take over and end up in a meltdown, everyone else who passed him just stepping on his work and glancing down in contempt, when he heard a voice from above.
“Need a hand?”
Charlie looked up to see the hottest man he’d possibly ever seen. He was looking down at him with a smirk but unlike everyone else he didn’t seem to be malicious in his intent, but rather feeling amused by the whole situation. His long blond hair was gathered in a rather intense top knot on the top of his head and Charlie could see the fading remnants of pink peeking out in places.
“Oh! Erm, yes? If you wouldn’t mind?” Charlie stumbled out after far too long. “My files seem to have gone everywhere.”
The man gave him a nod and turned to start gathering up the paper, and Charlie tried not to stare as he bent over. His suit was incredibly well tailored, fitting to his form like it was made for him, and Charlie realised it probably was.
“I don’t think the floor is the most comfortable place to sit.” The man said, and Charlie realised he’d not moved the entire time he’d been helping collect his work, too enraptured by the man in front of him.
Charlie quickly gathered himself up and it was only now he was stood in front of him did he notice that he was a good head shorter than himself.
“Yes! Sorry, it’s rather overwhelming here. It’s my first day, you see?”
“Well, welcome to MI5. I’m Montagu.” The man, Montagu, introduced himself, holding a hand out for Charlie to shake.
Charlie took it, and he could feel his chest do something funny as their hands touched. “I’m Charles.”
Montagu handed the files over, Charlie taking them and holding them tightly against his chest, a nervous smile creeping onto his face.
“Do you need anything else?” Montagu asked.
“I need meeting room 5 but I can’t seem to find where it is. This place feels like a maze and I’m not good with new places.” Charlie knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t help himself. Montagu didn’t seem to mind.
“Take this right and it’s at the bottom of the corridor.”
Charlie nodded. “Right. Thank you.”
They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, until a voice sounded from the other end of the opposite corridor.
“Monty! You’re late and Bevan is furious!”
Montagu rolled his eyes. “He’s always furious. Tell him to hold on.”
“It’s your funeral.”
The man disappeared and the pair were once again left alone.
“I should probably go.” Montagu said with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll see you around, Charles.”
“Yes. Thank you again, Montagu.” Charlie nodded.
Montagu clasped his shoulder as he headed to go. “Monty is fine. Make sure you don’t take another rest on the floor.”
With that, Monty left, and Charlie watched over as he disappeared into the room further down, hearing a brief call of ‘Johnny!’ as the door swung shut behind him. He wondered if he’d see him around again, part of him hoping they would but also knowing that like rest, Monty would’ve already forgotten about him not even 5 minutes later. It was just how things were for him.
It wasn’t for another six years that Monty would notice Charlie again.
Unlike Charlie, Monty didn’t think again about that moment in the corridor. For him, it was just a random insignificant thing that happened during the day, too focused on the lecture Bevan gave him as he turned up late for his meeting.
The first time Monty noticed Charlie was on a day when he was feeling low. His hair felt like it was getting too long again, Ian and his little gang of followers once again started making unsavoury transphobic comments in their early morning meeting, and all Monty wanted was to grab his usual coffee and hide away in his office for the rest of the day. It wasn’t even 10am and he already wanted to leave work.
Monty made his way into the break room, ignoring the usual calls from the secretary girls who he’d normally sit and flirt with, and made a beeline for the coffee machine. He grabbed the first mug he found, the buzzing in his brain distracting him from noticing that it was the wrong one, and it was only when he was about to use it that he noticed the face smiling up at him wasn’t normal.
He vaguely recognised the person on the mug, seeing the man in passing in the occasional meeting or walking around the building. Monty knew he should go and give the mug back but the thought of interacting with someone right now was difficult. He turned, hoping to just pass it off quickly and get back to his day when he noticed the man standing by the doorway with one of the secretaries.
Monty knew Jean, the girl being relatively new and also being one of the few girls who wasn’t obsessed with him. It was refreshing to be able to talk to one of them normally. She was excitable and eager, but she didn’t try and push him into anything and was actually competent at her job.
Just as he was about to approach them, Jean said something to the man. Monty too far away to be able to catch the comment, but the laugh she got in response caused his heart to stutter. He was beautiful. When he laughed, his whole face lit up and the beaming smile on his face brightened the entire room. Monty wondered how he’d missed him before.
Suddenly, his day seemed to get that tiny bit better. Monty didn’t know how, but this man seemed like the piece he’d been missing in life. It was the small flash of joy he needed.
Monty wasn’t sure how long he stood there, clutching the mug and staring dopily at him, when Jean appeared in front of him, grabbing the tea bags from the counter.
“I think you might need this.” Monty mumbled, quickly placing the mug down and turning back to the cupboard to get his actual one.
“Oh! Yes. Thank you, Monty.” Jean said, in surprise. Monty didn’t respond, too busy trying to ignore the feeling that was building in his chest.
When he turned towards her, he saw Jean looking at him in concern.
“Are you alright?” Jean asked.
Monty nodded, mentally shaking himself off and plastering the usual smirk on his face. Don’t be anything less than your usual public school boy persona, he had to remind himself.
“Perfectly fine, Miss Leslie. Just grabbed the wrong mug is all.”
Monty didn’t give her time to respond, pouring his coffee and speeding out of the break room, but not before he caught one last glimpse of the man as he passed him. God, he needed to pull himself together.
Once he was back in the safety of his office, Monty collapsed in his chair, the mug of coffee forgotten on the table. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d never felt like this before. Never had the immediate tug in his chest pulling himself towards someone. He couldn’t even remember his name. Monty was sure he’d learnt it before, they’d been working around each other for years, and he wished he remembered.
Not that anything would ever happen between them. Monty was too scared to even approach him and even if he did, why would he want someone like Monty? He could have the ideal person. Anyone he wanted. Not a broken transgender man who couldn’t even pull himself together after a few little comments.
Monty knew he had to do something to stop himself from going into this spiral, so he pulled his phone out, intending to message Ivor and distract himself from whatever was going on.
‘Do you ever look at someone and wonder where they’ve been all your life?’