[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

Grayson’s eyes narrowed with undisguised displeasure. He mumbled something against Neville’s palms, which tickled.

"There’s nothing urgent," Grayson said, his voice muffled but clear enough to convey his annoyance. Then, he pulled his head back just enough to free his mouth. "Nothing that can’t wait."

"Maybe you don’t have anything urgent."

Neville countered, finally managing to slide off Grayson’s lap and onto his own two feet. His knees wobbled a little, but he managed to stop them through sheer force of spite.

"But I still have backlogs on my task list, four of which are time-sensitive, and two of which I should’ve finished ten minutes ago."

Grayson frowned, pulling Neville close, keeping his arms around the other’s waist. "How are you busier than me? I’m the CEO."

Neville turned to face him, one eyebrow raised. "Are you hearing yourself? You’re not busy precisely because you’re the CEO. You can delegate everything to everyone, including me. So, I can’t afford nor have the freedom to slack off whenever I want as you do, Mr. CEO."

Grayson’s mouth opened to retort, but no words came out.

In the end, he grunted in a low and sullen manner, then slumped forward, dropping his head onto Neville’s chest from his seated position. The chair rolled slightly, bringing Grayson’s forehead to rest against the curve of Neville’s collarbone.

"We just got together," Grayson murmured. Muffled against Neville’s shirt in a way that felt intimate and fragile.

Together. Neville felt his chest tighten. This was something that he never expected Grayson would say.

Together... but what did that word mean to Grayson?

They had been dancing around this for months.

Throughout that, they ended up in a fake relationship with the punishments that weren’t really punishments.

Touching each other that lingered too long, kissing each other like lovers, and now, whispering sweet nothings like a confession without actually confessing.

His heart could only bear so little.

But Neville knew that what the word together meant right now was solely based on Grayson’s interpretation at that moment.

If Grayson decided tomorrow that this was nothing, that a fake should remain a fake, Neville would have no ground to stand on nor a claim to make.

The thought stung a little.

But Neville had read enough novels to know that no relationship worth having came without its fair share of trouble.

It was just that the trouble came to each couple in different forms.

For some people, it was distance.

For others, it was jealousy or misunderstanding.

For him, it was the quiet terror of wanting something that could be taken away at any moment.

If he wanted to stay, he would have to deal with it sooner or later.

If it didn’t really pan out, there was always the option of parting ways and staying friends thereafter.

Neville exhaled slowly. His hand moved up and settled against the back of Grayson’s head.

His fingers threaded through Grayson’s dark hair. It was thick, soft, and slightly disheveled from their earlier activities. He began to rub Grayson’s head in a slow, absent rhythm.

Sometimes twirling it around his fingers, sometimes smoothing it out. But it was the kind of idle soothing motion that relaxes the person being petted.

It was really satisfying, especially when Grayson began to lean his head against his soothing hand.

"We have a meeting in fifteen minutes," Neville said softly, coaxing Grayson.

Neville felt the arms around his waist tighten.

"Thirty," Grayson said in a slightly strained voice.

"No can do." Neville chuckled as his thumb moved up and down against Grayson’s nape, finding the small black mole there.

Neville thought, even without seeing his face, this man was still handsome and attractive. It’s really unfair.

But little did Neville know that the moment he touched that part, Grayson stiffened a little, and his eyes turned red.

Having enough touching that part, Neville moved his hand up to the back of Grayson’s head, playing with the hair on that part.

Grayson’s eyes also came back to normal after that, and he relaxed his body. But he was confused since he didn’t feel Neville’s hand move up on that part. But then he just passed it off as dozing off, as Neville’s touches were just that relaxing.

"Twenty-five." Grayson pleaded to get his act together and decided to turn rogue.

Grayson lifted his head and pressed his lips against the side of his neck, not quite a kiss, not quite not-a-kiss.

"Twenty-five minutes." He repeated as his warm breath made Neville’s neck sensitive and burning red.

"That’s— " Neville’s breath hitched as he felt Grayson kissing that part again, having a fun time experimenting with how red it would get as he continued to kiss that part.

He swallowed hard, mustering his courage to be firm on his decisions, "That’s not how meetings work— "

But his fingers, still on Grayson’s head, unconsciously tugged on Grayson’s hair, making his stance ambiguous.

"I know." Grayson’s voice had dropped into that low, unhurried register, seducing Neville to give up. "But I’m the CEO. The meeting won’t happen without me."

Neville closed his eyes tightly and pressed his lips together.

The gentle approach would get him nowhere.

He just figured out now that coaxing Grayson was like trying to redirect a river by asking it nicely, only for the water to flow wherever it wanted, and looked pretty doing it.

As the last last resort, Neville tried to straighten his spine and squared his shoulders. He even channeled the no-nonsense energy of Iris to execute it.

"Fifteen minutes," he said flatly, as if he wouldn’t budge with anything Grayson said now.

Grayson lifted his head from Neville’s shoulder. His expression had changed from a sulking beast to a brighter, sharper, sly dog.

His lips curved into a smile, and he said, "Twenty it is."

"Huh—?"

The word barely left his mouth before Grayson’s hand was on his wrist, pulling him down, and those lips were on his again.

Not the deep, consuming kiss from before, it was gentle and oh-so-sweet and addicting.

But the chuckle from the first half of the kiss already said I win without bothering to use words.

Neville regretted not resisting more.

But what could he do? He just likes this guy more than he thought he did.

Neville closed his eyes and responded.

His free hand found Grayson’s shoulders to balance his position.

And for a second, Neville forgot about everything.

Just for a second, though.

Because the door suddenly slid open.

Since there was no knock or warning, it seemed that this was a person who regularly entered this place with enough access.

Meaning, there was only one who could do it.

Bryan stepped inside with a bunch of microchips in hand. He entered without looking up, so he didn’t notice the couple busily kissing inside.

It was just when he was about to lift his head with a mouth already half open in the middle of the room that he realized what was going on.

Bryan’s poker face cracked at that moment.

He saw Grayson, who was sensitive to other people, peering with one eye, but continued.

Bryan was so annoyed, he cleared his throat loudly.

Neville heard that and realized it wasn’t coming from Grayson. He immediately pushed Grayson hard, making the other roll away, and slammed on the floor-to-ceiling window.

Neville panicked for a second with concern and helped Grayson, awkwardly rolling the other back to his desk. Throughout that, he refused to turn his face around and meet the person who came in.

He still had some shame, even when Grayson became shameless.

Grayson was visibly annoyed, but Bryan wasn’t one to back down.

Bryan had every right to be because even though he was also in a relationship, they didn’t flirt or make public displays of affection in the company. Therefore, he had the right to reprimand Grayson, who was new in this world of romance.

Neville was already walking, tittering back to his own desk, trying to act normal. So, Grayson had no way to call him back now.

When Bryan finally saw Neville’s face, his lips twitched slightly.

Neville was essentially in a state of disarray. His lips were swollen, his hair was clearly mussed in a way that everyone who had been in a passionate relationship would recognize right away. His clothes were also wrinkled in questionable places.

Bryan’s gaze moved back to Grayson, who was also in disarray but in a much better condition. To his credit, he managed to keep his poker face smiling throughout that.

"Sir," Bryan said, his tone so professionally neutral. "The department heads are assembling in the conference room. Chief McCartney asked me to confirm your attendance."

A beat of silence, and he scrolled through his light brain.

"She also wanted me to remind you that the last time you were late, Director Williams recalculated the delay penalty in lost productivity and sent it to the entire board."

"The briefing data are collated and on your workload, Mr. Maxwell," Neville said loud enough with a steady voice from his workstation, and still refused to look at Bryan. "I’ll have the presentation loaded in the assembly hall in five minutes."