The Gala

Arthur tried to get out of it. He claimed a migraine. He claimed a family emergency.

"Mandatory attendance for all department heads," the CEO’s assistant had emailed. "You’re receiving a plaque, Arthur. Be there."

So, Arthur was there.

The hotel ballroom was a nightmare of crystal chandeliers and networking. The music was a generic jazz quartet that was somehow still too loud.

Arthur stood near the coat check, clutching a glass of water like a lifeline. He was wearing his only suit—a navy blue number that felt stiff and restrictive.

He had accepted the plaque. He had shaken the hands. Now, he was calculating the escape vector.

"You’re hard to find."

Arthur froze.

Benji was standing there. He wasn't wearing a sweater today. He was wearing a velvet blazer in a deep, crushing burgundy. He looked devastating.

And angry.

"I’m busy," Arthur said, turning toward the exit.

"Bullshit," Benji snapped. He stepped in front of Arthur, blocking the path. "You’re not busy. You’re hiding. You’ve been ghosting me for three days. Why?"

"I’m just doing my job," Arthur said, his voice flat. "The project is over. We don't need to interact anymore."

"Is that what you think this was?" Benji asked, his voice rising. "A transaction?"

"You heard the VP," Arthur spat, the bitterness finally leaking out. "I’m the office robot. Beep boop. I served my function. Now I’m going back to the basement where I belong."

Benji stared at him. "Is that what this is about? That stupid joke?"

"It’s not a joke if everyone laughs!" Arthur shouted. A few people turned to look, but Arthur didn't care. "It’s the truth! I’m boring, Benji! I like silence. I like filing systems. I don't know how to talk about... about vibes or memes. I am a machine to you people. And I saw you laughing."

"I wasn't laughing at you!" Benji grabbed Arthur’s shoulders. "I was laughing because I was uncomfortable! I hated that he said that!"

"Why?" Arthur challenged, his eyes stinging. "It’s what I am."

"No, it isn't!" Benji shook him slightly. "A robot doesn't memorize the warp core frequency of the Starship Enterprise! A robot doesn't make sure my coffee has no foam because he knows I hate the texture! You are not a machine, Arthur. You are the most specific, thoughtful, interesting person I have ever met."

Arthur stopped breathing. "Interesting?"

"Yes!" Benji let go of his shoulders, running a hand through his hair. "God, Arthur. You’re the only person in this entire company who makes sense to me. The world is so loud, and you’re... you’re the signal in the noise. I don't go to the basement for the quiet. I go for you."

Arthur stared at him. The data points were rearranging themselves. The coffee. The roof. The hand on his hand.

"You... like me?" Arthur whispered.

"I am crazy about you," Benji said. "I thought that was obvious when I bought you a thermos."

Benji took a step closer. The anger was gone, replaced by a desperate hope.

"Can I try this again?" Benji asked softly. "Without the panic?"

He reached out, cupping Arthur’s face.

Arthur didn't pull away. He leaned in.

Benji kissed him.

It wasn't like in the movies. It was better. It tasted of champagne and cherry chapstick. It was grounding. The jazz music faded. The chatter of the gala faded. There was just the pressure of Benji’s lips and the warmth of his hands.

For the first time in his life, Arthur didn't feel like a robot. He felt electric.