Chapter Text
Emerging Leaders day at Asgard Corp had to be Thor's favorite day of the year. A fresh crop of wannabe executives, all no more than a few years out of grad school, handpicked by his most trusted colleagues for fast-tracking through the ranks straight into the C suite. All so hungry for some spectacular bullet points on their resume, so full of ideas and promise and hope, so eager to ingratiate themselves with one of the higher-ups, the higher the better. All so desperate for attention and recognition. All so eager to please.
As the scion of the founder and heir to the throne, Thor was the ultimate get for them. Odin's health woes were little-discussed in polite company but acknowledged and understood by each new crop. Thor was the future, and getting onto his team secured you a place in that glorious future, one of innovation and power and a particularly lavish bonus structure.
At least half of the cadre of driven and eminently capable twentysomethings had a few extra things going for them, a second set of criteria on which they'd been evaluated. Things that Thor's colleagues knew to look for. Practicality. An understanding that the world isn't black and white. Comfort with ambiguity. Moral flexibility. Knowledge that beauty is a valuable yet fleeting commodity. A healthy sense of self-preservation, coupled with a much less healthy sense of self-worth.
His favorite day, the best day of the year.
Fandral rapped at the smoked glass door of his office at precisely 10:50.
The routine was the same every year since Thor had taken ownership of the program. The emerging leaders arrived at 8:30 for a get-to-know-you breakfast with their assigned mentors. Those mentors then gave their mentees an abbreviated tour of the dazzling, ultramodern offices, which never failed to instill a sense of awe and excitement. The second-to-last stop on the tour necessitated a stroll through the portrait hall, where each recruit would see Thor's ridiculously handsome visage looming over them next to portraits of his father and grandfather in their respective primes. The three men looked so similar: tall and muscular, golden-haired and strong-jawed. The bluest eyes, the broadest shoulders, the most engaging smiles.
The last stop on the tour was the corporate boardroom, where they would have coffee and compliments with their mentors, their egos being stroked to near-completion, their giddy nervous energy compounding on itself until Thor’s glorious entry into the boardroom at precisely 11:02.
—--
“Hey everyone, sorry I'm late!”
Twenty fresh, eager young faces turned to him in reverential surprise. Four much less surprised faces did as well. Applause started up from the back of the room (if one of the recruits wasn't smart enough to do it, Hogun always positioned himself so that it seemed like one had), then swelled so that the entire room was clapping.
Thor clapped back at them, and his friends in the room did the same, turning the attention back onto the recruits as Thor took his position at the head of the room. Not at the podium but in front of it. Not some stuffy corporate guy with a podium, no, Thor was one of them, relatable, a friend.
He continued clapping at the recruits for a moment, watching to see how they reacted to it, which ones basked in the attention, which ones seemed embarrassed, which ones were simply bewildered. He could usually pick out the special ones at this point. The breathy laughs, the mock humility, the acknowledgement that this is what they came for – being appreciated, elevated. Having one of the most successful men in the world looking at them, acknowledging them, SEEING them.
He held up his hands and the applause faded to silence almost instantly.
“Good morning everyone, I'm Thor Odinson. I trust you all have at least a passing knowledge of who I am,” the crowd snickered, “and of where you are.”
Thor launched into his spiel about the company, its history, its mission, and how these wonderful new additions to the payroll were part of the plan to move the dial, change the culture, shake things up, etc etc etc. While he was reciting corporate catchphrases to his enraptured audience, he started picking out his sub-cadre, the most special. His new mentees, and his new toys.
That one, right up front. Eyes locked on him with an intensity that was a little scary. Impeccable suit, even though they'd been explicit on the “corporate casual” dress code. Her hair was close-cropped in a style that was intense, intimidating, and immensely appealing. Her bag was the only thing with even a hint of fun about it, a shot of fuschia against an otherwise severe palette. Not a special one. But an obvious shark.
That one, the one in back of the shark who was psychotically attentive. A tattoo sleeve ghosting through his Brooks Brothers button-down. About to explode with joy every time Thor glanced his way. A special one, for sure. Not quite his taste, everything was a little too obvious, but maybe he'd throw him to Fandral.
He kept scanning the room as he recited, looking for the special treats that his friends would've seeded the field with for him. If pressed, Thor probably would describe himself as straight but open-minded, and his friends always threw a few men into the mix. If not for him, then for Fandral or Sif. These recruits never seemed to have a fixed sexual identity, they were always whatever the gods of Asgard wanted them to be. There were a couple of really lovely women and two men that were obviously specials.
“-as we focus on delivering value while upholding the ideals…”
Then he saw him, the one. The obvious one that had been picked for him. His reaction was so strong that it threw him off his speech for a moment.
“Ideals… the ideals… “
The man in the back of the room turned and looked up at his stammering. Thor had been taken aback by his body, this long, sinuous column of muscle, and the beauty of his face from the side. He hadn't expected those eyes.
“The ideals upon which we were founded, and which we emulate every day, in every interaction-”
As Thor kept talking, he continued to move his eyes about the room like any good corporate speaker would, but kept his attention on the wide-eyed colt of a man in the back. He couldn't look more surprised that Thor had locked eyes with him. There was a shyness there. A sweetness. Humility, despite his ridiculous beauty. This was unexpected. This was new.
This was the one. Electric. Magical. Thor was going to wreck him.