Tumblr Request. Anon wanted Jack not to be a jerk after Rhys had a hard day. Was more than happy to oblige.

Massage

"Well, someone looks like he had a rough night," Jack said, popping his feet up on his desk. "With those bags under your eyes, I'd ask if someone kept you up all night, but I'm not seeing a hickey so that can't be it."

Rhys dropped the stack of papers on his desk and couldn't even work up the energy to glare at his chipper boss. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"Aw, pumpkin," Jack chuckled. He leaned back in his seat, looking Rhys over from head to toe. Bags under his eyes, a perpetual frown and his tie was hanging loose instead of tucked into his belt line. Baby boy was pouting. "I bet you'll feel better if you tell me all about it?"

"Somehow I doubt that," Rhys said. He reached up and dug his fingers into his shoulders near the plate that held his metal arm in place. He rolled his shoulders, stretching it out and sighed. "More like you'll make fun of me."

"That's a given, babe," Jack said. He pulled his feet down and walked over, cracking his knuckles. "But I can be nice when I want to be."

"Somehow I doubt that," Rhys said, not even caring that he was snarking back. He was too tired to deal with this. All in all, he really should have just called in sick after all the shit he put up with last night. "It's fine, Jack. I'm just tired."

"And sore it looks like," Jack said. He grabbed Rhys by the shoulders and maneuvered him into his rolling chair. He reached down and lowered the seat back all the way, leaving the top of Rhys' shoulders exposed. "Why don't I take care of that?"

"Jack you really don't–oh!" Rhys cut himself off when Jack's thumbs dug into his shoulder blades, and his fingers touched the back of his neck. Jack squeezed for a moment, before the rolling motion of his thumbs began to work their way into Rhys' sore muscles. He practically melted on the spot, only managing to blurt out. "That's new."

"It's called a massage, kiddo," Jack said, laughing. He leaned forward, pushing all his weight into the tips of his fingers. The knots in Rhys' back were obscene. No way he worked his PA that hard (Or if he did, Jack would never admit it). Whatever happened last night must have been rough. "Not exactly a new thing."

"New to me," Rhys said, groaning. He dropped his forehead onto his desk and moaned. Jack followed him, moving to dig the base of his palms into Rhys' back. "That feels so good."

"Of course it does. I've got magic fingers," Jack said. He hummed lightly, leaning on Rhys' back and digging his elbow into a particularly tough knot near the spine. "You feeling good enough to tell Jack all about what's got you so upset, pumpkin?"

"Are you going to stop if I tell you?"

"Probably."

Rhys turned his head, looking over his shoulders. HIs eyes held challenge and he muttered into the desk. "Then I'm taking it to my grave."

Jack laughed hard enough to collapse on Rhys' back snickering.