Just the two of us.

Chapter one

Josh (aged 25) stood in front of his massive floor-to-ceiling windows, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out at the skyline.

The city stretched out beneath him, its relentless energy a reflection of his own drive.

Yet, beneath the imposing exterior of a CEO who ruled his company with an iron fist, there was a layer of softness, one reserved for very few people. One of those people was George.

Just as Josh's mind began to drift, the door to his office swung open. His assistant, Claire, stepped inside, her expression tinged with unease.

"Sir, there was an incident in the cafeteria earlier. One of the employees... he made a comment about Mr. George."

Josh's spine stiffened. "What kind of comment?"

Claire swallowed hard, knowing how protective Josh was of his best friend. "He said George only has a job here because of you, and... implied he was nothing more than a charity case."

Josh's jaw clenched. George (26) had been through enough without the added cruelty of jealous, narrow-minded people. "What's the employee's name?"

"Timothy Renner, sir. In HR."

Without hesitation, Josh picked up his phone, pressing a button that connected him directly to HR. When Timothy's voice greeted him, Josh cut straight to the point.

"You're fired."

There was a stunned silence on the other end, then sputtering. "Mr. Anderson—"

"Pick up your things and leave. Security will escort you out."

Josh hung up, his expression hard and unreadable. But as Claire watched, she saw a flicker of concern creep into his eyes.

"Where's George now?" he asked.

"His office, sir. I think he overheard."

Josh exhaled sharply, muttering a curse under his breath. "Thank you, Claire. That will be all."

He left his office immediately, striding down the hallway toward George's corner of the building. As he neared George's office, he found the door slightly ajar.

He could see George sitting at his desk, his face turned away, shoulders hunched.

It was a posture Josh had seen too many times before — a defense mechanism George had built after years of battling his issues.

"George," Josh said softly as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

George flinched at the sound of his name. "Hey," he mumbled, not looking up.

Josh moved closer, sitting down beside him. "Did you hear what was said?"

George's lips pressed into a thin line. "I heard enough."

Josh's eyes softened. "He's gone. I fired him."

George let out a short, bitter laugh. "Of course you did. Just... proving his point, right? I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you." His voice cracked, betraying the pain he tried so hard to hide.

Josh shook his head, his gaze unwavering. "You're here because you earned it, George. You've come so far." He paused, then his voice lowered, gentle but firm. "But I need to know... have you been cutting again?"

George's head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. "Josh, I'm not—"

"Don't lie to me," Josh interrupted, his tone taking on the stern edge it only ever had when he was worried. "I've known you long enough to recognize when something's off."

George bit his lip, turning away, but that action alone was enough to confirm Josh's suspicions.

"Show me your arms," Josh ordered softly, but there was no mistaking the command in his voice.

George hesitated, feeling a rush of humiliation. But he knew better than to argue. With a sigh, he slowly rolled up his sleeves, showing his forearms. There were no fresh cuts, only faded scars from a darker time in his life.

Josh's eyes studied them carefully, then he nodded. "Alright," he said, his voice gentler now. But then his gaze dropped to George's legs.

"Josh, come on," George muttered, a flush creeping up his neck.

"I'm not taking any chances," Josh replied. "Roll up your pants."

George groaned, covering his face with his hands. "You're treating me like I'm five!"

"And I'll keep treating you like you're five if it means keeping you safe," Josh said with a hint of affection. "Pants, George."

Reluctantly, George rolled up his pant legs, revealing his thighs. Just like his arms, there were no fresh cuts. Josh exhaled, feeling some of the tension in his chest release. "Good."

George pulled his pants back down hastily, muttering under his breath, but Josh could hear the relief in his voice.

"You're not doing it anymore, then," Josh said softly.

George shook his head, his eyes avoiding Josh's. "No. I'm not."

Josh leaned back in his chair, the weight of his worry lifting just a bit. "You scared me, you know."

"Yeah, well," George mumbled, still embarrassed. "I didn't mean to."

Josh's expression softened even more. He reached over, gently pulling George into a hug.

George resisted for a moment, but then he gave in, his face pressing against Josh's chest. The tension slowly bled out of his body, and Josh felt it as he held him.

"Let it go," Josh whispered. "You don't have to carry everything on your own."

George stayed quiet, his breath steadying. Josh could tell from the way his body relaxed that exhaustion had finally caught up to him.

The emotional rollercoaster of the day had taken its toll.

Josh shifted slightly, pulling George fully onto the couch beside him, letting George rest his head against his shoulder.

He still had work to do, but that could wait. His best friend needed him more right now.

As Josh worked, the soft sounds of George's breathing became more rhythmic, deeper, until Josh realized he had fallen asleep in his arms.

A smile tugged at the corners of Josh's lips as he adjusted his position, making sure George was comfortable.

He kept working, one hand typing on his laptop while the other gently rested on George's shoulder, keeping him close.

It wasn't the first time George had fallen asleep like this — exhausted, emotional, but safe.

In moments like this, Josh knew that no matter how much pressure his life as a CEO brought, none of it mattered more than protecting the one person who had never left his side.