Chapter Text
C.J. was in his cubicle at Nook Inc. working on the spreadsheet that tracked which social media posts performed better on different platforms; he had his earbuds in and his music playing as he clicked back and forth between programs, distractedly entering in data and letting his mind wander to plans for the weekend, to how much vacation time he had saved up and if he could afford to do anything fun with it, to his lunch in the breakroom fridge down the hall. It was a decent enough job, although it was a little dull, and it could get tiring creating hyped-up posts about things he didn't actually care that much about.
He didn't hear the footsteps approaching until the head of the company was suddenly standing by his cubicle wall. C.J. startled and gave him a nervous smile. “Oh, hey, Mr. Nook,” he said, taking his earbuds out and pausing his music on his phone. C.J. was just a entry level social media specialist and mostly worked under the supervision of the marketing manager Isabelle; he rarely actually saw Tom Nook and his presence now worried C.J. “What's up?”
Tom Nook smiled and nodded to C.J.'s computer. “What are you working on?”
“Just updating the analytics,” C.J. said, and when Nook didn't respond, he kept talking. “Uh, Twitter's been trending down for a while, but we've also gained a lot of followers on Bluesky in the past month.”
“Mm-hmm.” Nook glanced to the monitor, then turned to give C.J. a smile. “You know, we really do appreciate everything that you do here. You're a valued member of the marketing team. But I was wondering... Do you think your talents might be better spent elsewhere?”
C.J. thought, Oh, shit, I'm being fired. He'd tried to think of what he'd done wrong, but he'd just had his annual review and thought it had gone well. Maybe the company was downsizing—maybe he would get a severance package so that he wouldn't have to borrow money from his folks while he looked for a new job. At the very least, maybe he could get Nook or Isabelle to write a reference for him. He tried to stay calm and keep his expression neutral. “I-I'm sorry?”
Nook continued, “At the monthly management meeting last week, we were discussing how to drum up some more interest in those island getaway packages we'll be launching next year. We haven't had as much preliminary interest in them as we'd hoped—I'd really thought the seclusion and the natural beauty of the islands would have been enough of a draw.” He sighed softly. “Right now the sales team is actively recruiting some rugged, outdoorsy individuals for the early stages of development. But at the management meeting, we were brainstorming some ways to get folks excited about island life, either visiting as tourists or moving there as residents, after we've got the basics up and running.”
C.J. didn't know where this was going, but he nodded along. Maybe he wasn't being fired, but... did they want him to move to one of the islands? He was a rugged, outdoorsy guy. But he also appreciated the conveniences of the city and all his friends were here.
Nook smiled at him. “The islands really are gorgeous, wouldn't you agree?”
“Y-yeah,” C.J. said. “I only got to tour that one with the marketing team. But it was real pretty. There were orange trees, and wild tulips growing everywhere.” He thought, I don't think I want to move to a deserted island, but... can I afford to say no?
Nook nodded in agreement. “You know, the art department really loved the photos you took of that island. We'll be using that picture you took of the river mouth for some promotional materials. Brochures and the like.”
“Oh, that, uh, that's great to hear. I was just grabbing some cell phone pics for company blog posts, but, um, I'm glad it was good enough quality to print.” Did they want to transition him the art department? That couldn't be it; he could snap a good pic now and then, but surely there more talented artists out there—hell, he knew more talented artists who were looking for work.
Nook sighed again and said, “Yes, those islands really are lovely. And teeming with wildlife. There's the fruits and flowers, as you mentioned, but from what I hear, the waterways are also home to a wide variety of fish.” He smiled down at C.J. “You're an angler, aren't you?”
“I-I am, yeah. I've been fishing since I was a little kid. I love it. It's my favorite hobby.”
“Yes, yes,” said Nook. “I've seen the pictures you post on your own Instagram. Lots of nice big catches.”
C.J. smiled tightly and nodded. He had a semi-popular Instagram account with a few thousand followers, although it had always made him mildly uncomfortable that his boss was one of them.
“So, we were thinking,” Nook said, rubbing his hands together. “Once we have some essential amenities for the residents set up, perhaps we could host some events celebrating the island's resources. Like, for example, a quarterly fishing tourney. A little friendly competition between residents.”
C.J. nodded again.
Nook smiled. “And your name came up as a possible host for the fishing tourney. Is that something you might be interested in?”
“Oh!” C.J. said, and laughed in relief. “Yeah, absolutely. I'd definitely be open to something like that.” He glanced over to the computer monitor with the spreadsheet still open. “Would, um, would that be in addition to my regular duties?”
“Well, here's the thing,” Nook said. “We'd want to maintain interest year round, so we'd want someone to do some outside-the-box educational outreach about local fishing as well, which would include making regular visits to the islands in addition to the seasonal tourneys. And cultivating a robust social media presence.” He smiled at C.J. “Which you are clearly also skilled at.”
C.J. smiled back, starting to relax now that he knew he wasn't being fired. “Yeah, thanks. What you're describing would be right up my alley.” Fishing and talking to people about fishing sounded like his dream job.
“Yes, yes,” Nook said. “We'd be creating a brand new position for this and we're still hashing out all the exact responsibilities, but I'm glad to hear you have some interest in it. Maybe you could come to the next management meeting and help us brainstorm some outreach strategies.”
“Yeah, for sure. I'll think it over and I'll bring some ideas.”
“Perfect. I'll add the meeting to your calendar.”
“Did, um...” This was C.J.'s first real, professional job after college, and he wasn't sure how to politely ask this but he tried anyway. “I-I know you said it's a new position and that you're still figuring things out, but, um, do you know if the pay range would be comparable to what I'm earning now?” Dream job or not, he couldn't afford to take a cut in pay, he was barely making rent as it was.
“Well...” Nook began, and C.J. started to worry again—if he declined the new job, would he be able to keep his current job? “The hours for this position would be much more irregular than for your current one and possibly longer, especially factoring in travel time. You'd have more varied responsibilities and you'd be working independently much of the time. So this would likely be a salaried position. Your current position is hourly, correct? Are you at... pay level two?”
“Uh, level one, actually.”
“Ah. Well. The new position would likely have a salary roughly equivalent to pay level two or three. If that would work for you.”
“Yes. Definitely.” He had to work not to laugh again; he didn't even know how high pay level three went because he'd never expected to be promoted that high.
“Perfect,” Nook said. “Of course, you'd also be eligible for all the usual benefits we offer salaried positions. More vacation time, travel expenses reimbursement, paid training opportunities, invitation to company retreats, things like that. We offer a matched retirement account. Excellent insurance benefits for employees and their spouses.” He eyed C.J. for a second then added, “Or domestic partners.”
“Wow, yeah, that's great,” C.J. said.
C.J. had intended it as vague positivity, but Nook held his gaze for a moment, then smiled knowingly. “I don't think I've actually met your partner, have I? Is he that young man I see all over your Instagram?”
C.J. blinked at the gender Nook had assumed, but tried not to react. “I-I mean, I post pictures of a lot of people.” He tried to guess who Nook was thinking of, because he wasn't actually dating anyone at the moment and hadn't for months.
“I suppose that you do,” Nook said. “Well, I would like to meet him though. Why don't you bring him along to the company barbecue in August? You know this is a family company and we take pride in celebrating all kinds of families, and in having diverse voices especially in public facing roles.”
C.J. nodded and smiled awkwardly, trying to think of something to say. “Yeah, that's, um, definitely appreciated. Within the company and in the community at large I'm sure.”
Nook smiled. “Glad to hear it,” he said. He started to move to leave. “Well, I hope you're as excited about this new position as I am. I know you haven't been with the company long, but I think you'd be a very good fit for it. And I'm looking forward to getting to know you better. And your partner as well.”
C.J. nodded again. “Yeah, I'm definitely excited about it. I'll, um, I'll brainstorm some ideas to bring to the next management meeting.”
As soon as Nook walked away, C.J. was on his phone scrolling through his own Instagram page, trying to figure out who Nook might have thought his partner was. It was true that C.J. hung out with lots of friends and regularly posted selfies with them, but as he looked over the pictures it became clear very quickly that one particular face was posted more often than any of the others.
That evening after he got home from work, he texted Flick, Can I ask a really big and really weird favor of you?
Flick wrote back, what's up?
C.J.'s thumb hovered over the keyboard, but then he wrote, Actually, are you around right now? Wanna come over for drinks? I think it'd be easier to explain in person.
Flick wrote, i worked the opening shift and just woke up from my post work nap. a drink sounds perfect. let me put on some pants and i'll be right there.
I'll leave the door unlocked for you.
Flick lived just down the hall in the same apartment complex as C.J., and a few minutes later there was a soft knock on the door as Flick let himself into C.J.'s apartment. C.J. got them both beers from the fridge and they settled in on the couch so that C.J. could tell him about the conversation he'd had with Nook.
Flick just laughed. “Why did you just go along with that assumption?”
“I don't know! I was stressed! I thought I was being fired and then I wasn't, and if this new job actually materializes and I get it, that would be, like, incredible and... I just sort of panicked.”
“You could have at least corrected him to the right gender.”
C.J. shrugged. “I mean, I'm not dating anyone right now, so I'd be lying no matter what. Besides, Nook was talking about diversity and stuff and, I dunno, it felt like it might help if I kinda leaned into that?”
Flick frowned now. “Don't you think that's a little disingenuous, considering that you're straight?”
C.J. squirmed. “I... might not be entirely straight actually.”
Flick raised his eyebrows. “Oh really?”
“I think I might be bi? I dunno, it's just something that I've been thinking about lately. I'm trying to figure things out.” He lowered his eyes and picked at the label of his beer bottle. “Anyway, with Nook, you know, it's kind of an open secret at work that his former business partner is also his ex-boyfriend. Like he doesn't really talk about it, but everybody knows. And it felt like... like maybe he would like me more if we had something like that in common? And it's not like I'm lying about my orientation, I might legit date a guy at some point, I'm just... lying about my current relationship status.”
Flick smirked now. “And I was the gayest guy you could think of to pose as your boyfriend?”
“No! That's not it!” C.J. slouched back against the couch cushions, feeling embarrassed.
Flick laughed again. “I'm just teasing.” He bumped his beer bottle against C.J.'s leg. “But seriously, though—why me?”
C.J. sat back up. “Nook said something like, 'Oh, is it the guy from your Insta?'” He took out his phone and scrolled through his Instagram feed. “And, you know, afterwards I look and... there you are, and there you are, and there you are again.”
Flick smiled as he looked over C.J.'s Instagram. “I never really paid attention to that, I'm not on Instagram much. You and I don't hang out all that often. Why all the photos?”
“I think it's just a coincidence,” C.J. said. “Like, some of my friends don't want their pictures online, so they're not here at all even though we hang out all the time. And sometimes I might, like, take a picture of a sunset or a meal or whatever, but not the person I'm with. And I don't usually post pictures of parties because, ya know, my boss follows me and and my parents follow me.” He clicked into a photo of him and Flick, then another. “But you and I usually hang out one on one, and you don't mind pictures, and...” He clicked into another picture of him and Flick in front of a trellis full of wisteria in full bloom. C.J. said, “It's your own fault for being so damn photogenic.”
Flick snorted. “Flirt.”
C.J. felt his cheeks grow warm but he kept scrolling. “I mean, it all looks platonic to me, but I guess it could be interpreted otherwise?”
Flick scrolled back up on C.J.'s phone and clicked into a post. “We totally look like boyfriends in these pictures from the beach.”
“Yeah... we kinda do.”
Flick finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table. "So what would you need me to do?"
"Well, mostly I'd need you to come with me to the company barbecue over Labor Day weekend and pretend to be my boyfriend. And in the mean time, I guess just let me keep taking ambiguous pictures of us for my Insta?"
Flick smiled. "You only need three months worth of fake boyfriend?"
C.J. shrugged. "Nook said he wanted to meet 'my partner.' Once the new job is secure — like, assuming it happens and assuming I get it — we can break up. Fake break up."
"Won't it look suspicious if we keep hanging out after we supposedly 'break up'?"
"People stay friends with their exes sometimes."
"I'm not friends with any of my exes. Are you?"
C.J. wobbled his head noncommittally. "Listen, you don't have to do this for me. I know it's weird. I can just tell Nook there was a misunderstanding. I'm sure it'll be fine.”
“Nah, I don't mind,” Flick said. “It'll be fun. Can I still date other people for real while you and I are fake dating?”
“Sure. I mean, you hardly ever post anything to your own Insta anyway. What's your Facebook relationship status?”
“Nothing. I don't use Facebook at all.”
“Yeah, you can do whatever you want in real life, so long as it doesn't wind up online.”
“Sounds good,” Flick said. He tapped the lock screen of C.J.'s phone to check the time. “I suppose I should get out of your hair for the night though, you're probably tired from work.”
C.J. paused only a second before saying impulsively, “Hey, boyfriends make dinner together. Have you eaten yet?”
Flick leaned back and smiled at him. “I have not.”
“Let me thank you for doing this for me. I'll bet I can throw together a decent dinner. And as a bonus I can take some more photos of us for Instagram.”
Flick said, “I think I'm going to like this arrangement,” and followed him to the kitchen.
They stood in front of the open fridge together, and Flick helped himself to another beer. C.J. grabbed one too and said, “I've got some fish I can fry up. And maybe rosemary roasted potatoes?”
Flick had a swallow of beer and said, “We should have another vegetable. For nutrition, and to add some color to the plates for photos. I can make something. Let me see what you've got.” He knelt down to dig through the bottom shelf of the fridge, and C.J. backed up a little to give him space. Flick said, “Honey glazed carrots or garlicky sauteed kale?”
C.J. felt oddly flustered looking down at Flick kneeling in front of him, but he tried to stay focused on the conversation. “I don't even know why I bought that kale other than wishful thinking. I like kale, but I never get around to actually cooking it.”
“Let me make you kale, then,” Flick said, taking the bag from the fridge and standing up. C.J. exhaled, and collected the rest of the ingredients for dinner.
They chatted as they prepped dinner, and C.J. kept an eye on Flick at the counter. After a while, he said, “Hold on a minute.” He stood next to Flick and rearranged the kale on the cutting board next to him. Flick eyed him suspiciously, and C.J. said, “I'm just staging a photo.” He took out his phone and leaned over the counter, saying, “All right, go back to peeling garlic.”
Flick raised an eyebrow.
C.J. sighed and gestured at the kitchen. “The lighting is good, and the green of the kale contrasts well with the yellow walls and the black and pink on your shirt. A-and you had a really nice look of concentration on your face before I interrupted you.”
Flick smirked. “You should have just snuck some candid shots like you usually do. Now I'm self-conscious.”
“Well, you should just ignore me like you usually do, then,” C.J. said.
Flick glanced up at him and laughed, and although C.J. smiled back at him he also secretly took a few pictures of Flick laughing. Flick returned his attention to the garlic, and C.J. watched for a moment as he rubbed the cloves of garlic between his thumb and forefinger, picking off the papery skin, then C.J. lowered his gaze to his phone and watched Flick on the screen instead, snapping a series of pictures as Flick's expression settled back into something more genuine, although the little smile that remained on his face looked slightly flirtatious in the photos as C.J. scrolled back through them.
Flick asked, “Are you going to upload that right away?”
C.J. turned off his phone and returned it to his pocket. “Nah,” he said as he went back to his own cutting board with potatoes. “I'm going to put together a post at the end of the night. I want the lead photo to be the two of us. Then maybe dinner plated up with an open bottle of beer in the background—I want the focus on the food with the beer slightly out of focus but with the light catching on the condensation on the bottle. Then you with the garlic and kale, then another shot or two of the cooking process or something.” He looked over at the window. “Let's go out on the balcony when the sun gets a little lower for the couple's picture.”
Flick glanced at the window, too. “You're putting a lot of thought into this.”
“It's literally my job,” C.J. said as he slid the tray of potatoes into the oven. “Only usually I'm trying to sell real estate instead of a relationship.”
Flick put a hand on C.J.'s back as he stood behind him and took a knife out of the knife block. “I really do hope this new job pans out. It sounds perfect for you.”
C.J. stayed where he was until Flick had taken his hand away, then he took out his own knife for the fish. "It does," he said. "Back in college, my advisor kept saying I could work anywhere with a communications degree and I don't know what I was expecting exactly. More opportunities I guess? Like I had this vision that I could try a bunch of different things until I found something that clicked with me. But every job listing required more education or experience than I had. I'm pretty sure the only reason Nook hired me at all was because I interned for my school's PR department doing their social media. And, like, social media on its own can be fun, and Nook Inc. is a decent company, but advertising and marketing as a career path feels kinda slimy. And, god, it is so fucking boring sitting on my ass in a windowless office for forty hours a week. I've gained, like, twenty pounds from sitting all damn day." He patted his stomach to emphasize his point, and as he did he noticed Flick's gaze travel down his body and back up to his face; C.J. felt self-conscious and for a moment thought that he should have picked a more believable fake boyfriend, not someone so obviously out of his league like Flick.
But Flick just said, “You carry it well, though,” and C.J. didn't know how to respond to that. Then Flick smirked and said, “Clearly you should have done something more practical, like double major in art and entomology, so you could work in a fucking grocery store like me.”
C.J. gave him a smile. “You got that gig at the zoo now.”
“Yeah, twelve whole hours a week. And while the tarantulas and stick bugs are excellent coworkers, I'm making more per hour stocking shelves and filling bulk bins at Green Earth Co-op.”
“You've been selling paintings, too.”
“Three. I sold three paintings.”
“It's a start,” C.J. said as he dredged the fish fillets in flour and egg and crushed cornflakes. “Maybe interest will pick up with the sculptures.”
Flick sighed. “That'd be nice because they're just taking up space in my apartment now.” He glanced over at C.J. and said, “If you get this new gig, you'll have to tell me what it's like to have a job that is actually both enjoyable and pays the bills.”
C.J. smiled and said, “I probably shouldn't get my hopes up too much. Like the job doesn't even exist yet, and it'll probably be harder and more work than I'm imagining. But, like, getting to spend all that time outside? Traveling to different islands and talking to folks about something I love?” He sighed with longing.
Flick smiled warmly at him. “That's the dream.”
Flick was a good sport about all the photos C.J. took while they cooked dinner, and he waited patiently after C.J. plated up the meal to start eating so that C.J. could get the pics he wanted. The sun was setting just as they finished eating, so they left the dirty dishes on the table and went out to the balcony to get a few pictures of the two of them with the city bathed in golden light behind them, the sky awash in pink and orange. C.J. was standing just in front of Flick and off the the side, and after a few photos Flick leaned in closer, resting his chest on the back of C.J.'s shoulder, his face close to C.J.'s, but when C.J. tensed, Flick pulled away again and said, “Too much?”
C.J. backed away and said, “I mean, I'm aiming for ambiguity. Like, I want Nook to see what he wants to see, but as for everybody else, I want them to keep assuming we're just friends. Because you and I aren't actually dating, and... like I'm just not really ready to come out to other people. Ya know?”
Flick nodded and said, “Sure, I understand.” They leaned against the balcony railing again and took a few more photos, and as C.J. was scrolling through them on his phone, Flick said, “Just me, then?”
“Hmm?” C.J. looked up at him.
“You're only coming out to me?”
Flick's half-lidded eyes and wry little smirk made C.J.'s throat go dry, and he hoped the ambient light was low enough that Flick couldn't see that he was blushing. “It, uh, it seems so,” he said. Then he laughed nervously and added, “You and my boss.”
Flick gave him a smile and said, “Well, your secret is safe with me.”
C.J. turned his attention back to his phone.
After a moment, Flick added, his voice more sincere now, “And we can talk any time, if you want.”
C.J. nodded without looking up.
Afterward, they went back inside and cleaned up from dinner, C.J. rinsing the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher while Flick wiped down the table and counters, then C.J. walked Flick to the door to say good night. They'd both had a third beer with dinner, and C.J. was feeling a little tipsy and Flick looked to be too—his eyes were glassy and his cheeks were flushed. C.J. leaned in the open doorway looking out at Flick in the hallway and said, “Hey, thanks again for doing this for me.”
“Not a problem,” Flick said. “Let me know when you want to get more pictures or whatever.” They held each other's gaze for a moment, and for an instant, C.J. thought Flick might impulsively kiss him. But instead he just smiled his wry little smile and patted C.J.'s cheek, saying, “Good night fake boyfriend.”
C.J. laughed nervously. Flick walked back to his own apartment two doors down; as he unlocked the door, he turned and gave C.J. a little wave and C.J. waved back. He stepped back inside his own apartment once Flick was in his and leaned back against the closed door, letting out a long breath. This isn't weird, he told himself. It felt weird because he'd had a big day at work and then they'd both had maybe a little too much to drink for a random Tuesday evening. And although he'd been sort of planning on eventually coming out to Flick before he came out to anyone else—because he and Flick got along so well and because he knew Flick wouldn't judge him—he hadn't been expecting to do it tonight and so his nerves were a little frayed. So it felt weird but it wasn't actually weird. He and Flick hung out all the time, and they'd made dinner for each other before. Nothing about this was weird.