Upside Down [mxm] [editing]

Chapter 6

Alex had just finished dinner, the remnants of it having been pushed to the side, fork and knife piled neatly on top of the light blue dish - picked up from a trip to Spain - as he leaned in to focus on the work displayed on his laptop. It was closing in on eleven o'clock and he'd been working through these proposals all day. A large corporation was preparing to move into the city, and having to balance tax breaks and increased employment against environmental impacts and what would happen with the mom n' pops was exhausting. Again, this wasn't really what he'd expected his life to look like. The parties, the elections, the schmoozing, Alex loved every single bit of that. The work? He was exceptionally skilled and educated when it came to the law, and he cared immensely about his community (because without them he knew he wouldn't be where he was), but sometimes the work was so boring that he just wanted to slam his head against his dining room table.

But that might leave a bruise, and he'd hate to damage his face in any way.

Groaning he reached for the glass beside him, fingers wrapping around the stem, only to discover that it was mostly empty. Glowering down at the minuscule splash of red wine which pooled in the bottom, Alex changed his tack and reached for the bottle which had been seated beside the glass. It, too, proved to be empty. This invoked another groan, partly because he was supposed to be sticking to only a bottle a night, but mostly because the other bottles were all the way over there. As in the fifteen steps that it would take to get to the kitchen counter and the wine rack which sat atop it.

More work, getting up and all, was not something that Alex wanted, but he did want more wine. Wine being the only way which could make his evening bearable. Yes, he'd been drinking a little more as of late. Yes, that increase had been since the cocktail party and it had been exponential since he'd run into his namesake (he had a namesake, for god's sake!?!) at the park. This only meant that wine was imperative for his ability to function properly. That had to make it a work expense, didn't it? Maybe he could write it off...

Contemplating a small financial scandal, Alex rose, collecting glass, bottle, and previously mentioned plate, in order to pad across the dining area and into the kitchen. He might be feeling lazy, but he'd always been fastidious and there was no need to leave a mess anywhere. Generally he was organized to the level of being anal, which left him more than a little flummoxed when he couldn't find the bottle opener. Seriously, he had just had it. He had to have in order to open the first bottle that he'd had that night. It couldn't have gone very far, could it?

Checking first through the usual suspects, the drawers, he moved on to cabinets and then the dishwasher. It wasn't any of those places so the fridge was next, but no luck either. Back to the dining table, where there were plenty of pens, a laptop, and various papers, but nothing with which to remove a cork. "Ha!" Finally, out of the corner of his eye it was spotted, on the sideboard near the door where he charged his phone.

"You thought you could escape." Maybe another bottle wasn't the best idea, Alex had never been one for speaking to himself, but now that he'd found the bottle opener (and a mighty quest it had been) the idea of not having that next bottle was frankly a preposterous one. It was fated that they should be together, and it was only a fitting celebration of that victory that he open the next bottle up post haste.

The knock on his door was so unexpected that Alex dropped the bottle opener. Already in a glowering mood he first did so in the direction of the opener on the floor, before directing his irritation at the front door. He wasn't expecting anyone and surprises were not something he got by way of visitors. That's why you had doormen. Or doorwomen, he was an equal door-position supporter after all.

Door person?

That train of thought must have distracted him for longer than he'd realized, because before he knew it there was another knock. This one was firmer, demanding, followed by an impassioned plea of "Alex, come on. I know you're home."