Fic: Appropriate Office Behaviour
Fuck, my paid account expired, and now I have like, five icons. I am deeply saddened by this.
So have some Brad/Nate!
No, I can't believe I wrote it either. It's for sgrio , who requested a Brad/Nate X-Files au. This is probably not what she was expecting, but *shrugs* It's all I got. Enjoy, bb!
Title: Appropriate Office Behaviour
Pairing: Brad/Nate (!!!), Ray/Jo (from Supernatural)
Word Count: 2636
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters nor have any connection with the real people the characters are based on. This is pure non-profit fiction.
Note: Glorified comment fic, no beta, just for fun. Brad and Ray are FBI agents, Nate is their boss, and Jo is hot.
“Giant. Slugman.” Brad dropped the report on his desk and looked across the room at his partner. “You’re really gonna go with ‘giant slugman’ on this one, Person.”
“Yeah, Colbert, I’m fairly sure we can close the case now,” Ray said. “I really feel like we’ve reached closure.” He leaned way back in his chair and gazed up at his girlfriend, who was sitting on his desk with one boot placed firmly on the seat between his legs. “What do you think, Jo?”
“I think you’re both a pair of giant freaks and I can’t believe I’m dating you,” she replied, bored. She was flipping through a file that Brad was pretty sure was confidential, but he’d basically given up trying to stop her from doing whatever the hell she wanted by now. Less grief.
“Hey, you’re only dating one of us,” he muttered instead. “The inferior one, at that.” He reread the end of the report. Ray had actually used the words ‘giant slugman’. It was right there in black and white. They were so screwed.
Jo smirked. “Oh, please, you think I didn’t realise you were a package deal when I hooked up with Ray? It’s like a I’ve got two boyfriends but only one puts out.”
“Speaking of which,” Ray nodded towards the door. “Colbert, can you please go and make googly eyes at Fick for, like, forty minutes or so? You can bond over my awesome report.”
“Forty? Fifteen should do it,” Jo said under her breath. Ray sputtered, and Brad sighed.
“Person, what have I told you about sex in my office?”
“Our office,” Ray corrected automatically. “And you’re not the boss of me, homes. If I want to get freaky with my-”
“Yeah, you’re not getting laid today,” Jo interrupted smoothly, and tossed the papers she’d been reading on the desk. Brad saw it was one of his old case files, from back in the peaceful, blissful days before Ray was his partner. She pointed at it. “You’ve made at last three errors in your concluding report, not to mention your investigation method was fairly iffy to begin with,” she said. “How is it that getting Ray actually improved your quality of work?”
Brad stared at her. “You’re a barmaid,” he said meanly. He liked Jo, he really did, but today he had to go to Assistant Director Fick and give him a report about slugmen, and it was kind of messing with his Zen.
Jo just smiled sweetly at him. “I’m smarter than you.”
“What?”
Ray jumped up and started bustling manically around the coffee maker. “Who wants espresso!” he asked chirpily, like a demented sparrow. Brad and Jo ignored him.
“I’m smarter than you,” Jo repeated. “I know this because I hacked into the files of all your schools and colleges, all the way back to kindergarten, and did a comparative analysis of all our test scores. Through our academic career I beat you by something along the lines of three to seven percent per assessment. In fact, the only subject you ever kicked my ass at was home ec.” She cocked her head, long blond curls tumbling over her shoulders. “Which is kind of embarrassing for you.”
Brad felt a headache starting, right behind his eyes. “You do realise that I am an FBI agent who can arrest you at any time, right?”
She waved her hand. “Ray knows that if I get arrested he won’t get any, so I’m not really concerned about that, Colbert.” She leaned back and winked. “I’m smarter than him, too, if it makes you feel any better.”
“You ran my academic records?” Ray asked, coffee forgotten. “That is so hot.”
Brad almost resisted temptation, almost took the high road and just walked out, but in the end he couldn’t do it. He had to know. “So who wins out of me and Person?”
Jo shook her head. “Oh, no I’m not getting involved in a dick measuring contest between the two of you. Just accept that you’re both my bitches and leave it at that, ok?”
Ray was staring adoringly at her again. “Colbert. Colbert, please leave. Please go flirt with Fick for awhile, please give me some time alone with my girlfriend. I’ll do all your paperwork for a week.”
“You’re already doing all my paperwork for the next two weeks because of the last favour I did for you.” But Brad got up and grabbed his jacket anyway. He could only put Fick off for so long. “Don’t forget you need to go down to the lab to run the thing for the thing.”
Jo perked up. “The lab?”
“Oh, the giant bee-man thing?” Ray said.
Brad’s headache got worse. “Person, it is not a giant fucking bee-man. Ok? There is a logical explanation for this that we just haven’t seen yet-”
“Colbert, the logical explanation is that some dude with chitin and a great big fuckin’ stinger fucked up some poor lady and left her body covered in pollen and wax. Giant. Fucking. Bee-man.”
Jo held up her hand. “Ok, spook one and spook two, I don’t care about your stupid improbable cases. Ray, are we or are we not going down to the lab to see Walt?”
“Person is going down to the lab to find out where that pollen came from. Leave poor Walt alone.”
Jo looked a little dreamy. “But he’s so…innocent.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Brad headed to the door. “Behave yourselves, children. No sex in my office, no sex with Walt, in fact, you two should probably abstain from sex completely, for the good of humanity.”
“Yes dad!” they called after him as he charged down the hall. Brad was willing to bet money that Ray already had his hand up Jo’s shirt. The only comforting thought was that if she really wasn’t in the mood, she’d probably break his wrist.
~
Fick’s office was several floors above theirs, which wasn’t really surprising considering he and Ray were hidden down in the basement where the higher ups could pretend they didn’t exist. Fick’s office had a window. With a view. Also, he got a secretary, but that wasn’t so cool.
Mallory was a stern, hard-assed woman in her late forties who Brad privately referred to as The Gatekeeper. It paid to bring her sacrificial offerings of coffee and donuts and the souls of small children - he’d tried flirting with her a few times, but he was pretty sure she’d been seriously considering gutting him with a letter-opener, so he’d given it up. Ray seemed to have a way with her, though, which was just one of the many strange and upsetting things he would never understand about his partner.
“Hi, Mallory,” he said, approaching her desk and smiling at her warmly. “I thought you might like some coffee. Skinny latte with one sugar, right?” She didn’t look impressed, but she didn’t shoot staples at him either, so he counted it as a win and forged bravely on. “Is Assistant Director Fick in his office?”
She glared at him for a few seconds. “Do you have an appointment?”
Bitch, bitch, bitch, Brad chanted in his head. She made all of Fick’s appointments herself, so she knew he didn’t. He clung desperately to his smile. “Well no I don’t Mallory, but he did ask to see me this afternoon.”
She sighed elaborately and picked up her phone. “Mr Fick? Agent Colbert is here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment, can you fit him in?”
Bitch, bitch, bitch. She’d left the ‘Special’ off the front of his title on purpose just to piss him off. The look on her face told him this. He took a deep breath and waited, leaving sweaty fingerprints all over the report he was clutching. Finally, she hung up. “Mr Fick will see you in just a moment,” she said, as if it gave her actual pain to utter the words.
“Thanks, Mallory. You’re a gem,” Brad replied through gritted teeth. At a standstill, they stared at each other for a little longer, before Fick opened his door and stuck his head out.
“Brad, hi, come on in,” he said, shooting him a grin. “Mal, Special Agent Colbert needs to give me a private briefing. This is top priority at the moment, so hold all my calls and visitors until we’re done, ok? Thanks”
Brad gave her a smug look as he followed Fick in, couldn’t help himself. No high roads for him at all today, but he was good with it.
“A private briefing?” he said to Fick when the door was safely shut and locked behind them. Nate smirked.
“Crude, but accurate, wouldn’t you say? Although, hopefully, not too brief.”
Brad held his ground as Fick advanced on him, pressed right up close. “Sir, I’m not sure if this is appropriate office behaviour,” he said dryly, tracing his thumb over Fick’s lower lip. Fick darted his tongue out, swiping across Brad’s skin, and Brad swallowed hard.
“You’re right, Special Agent Colbert. It probably goes against recognised office policy to slam you up against the wall and fuck you until you scream for more.” Fick grinned and stepped back. “Thanks for pointing that out.”
Brad grabbed his wrist. “Nate.”
Fick laughed. “No seriously, work first, sex later. Is that your case report on those anomalies in Baltimore?
Brad paused. “Uh… I’m gonna need you to fuck me before you read this, actually.”
Fick raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Why’s that?”
“Because once you’ve read it and had me escorted from your office and made me clear out my desk, I probably won’t be in the mood anymore.”
“Oh come on, Brad. I’m not going to fire you. Just give it to me,” Fick said, reaching for the file. Brad held it away, out of his reach, using his height to advantage.
“That’s a negative, sir.”
“Colbert.” Fick’s voice went low, dangerous, and it sent a beat of lust through Brad’s body. “Give me the fucking file.”
Brad bit his lip. “Make me,” he said, and out of the fucking blue Fick was on him, shoving him towards the desk and bending him over it. Brad was an ex-Marine, still considered himself a devil dog at heart, but even he had to admit it - Fick had some moves for a civvies.
“You’re such a pain in the ass, Brad,” Fick said, kicking Brad’s legs apart. “You could have just given me the damned report, and I would have ignored it and sucked your dick. But no. You have to do things the hard way.”
“I like the hard way,” Brad said, bracing himself on his forearms. He could practically hear the smirk in Fick’s voice as he replied.
“Yeah, I hope so.” He reached under Brad to fiddle with his belt, using his other hand to shove down on Brad’s back. Like Brad was planning on going anywhere. He loved this, loved the power-play between him and Fick. Loved Letting Fick win in the office, and then loved putting him down when he came over to Brad’s house after work, when he stopped being Fick and turned into Nate. It was kind of fucked up, but hell, they’d given him Person for a reason - Brad knew from fucked up.
“You even gonna undress me?” he asked, hot and uncomfortable in his suit and tie, feeling too buttoned up, restricted.
“No time,” Fick said, and unzipped Brad’s pants, rubbing his hand against his erection. Brad groaned and dropped his forehead to Fick’s ink blotter. “I’ve got a meeting across town in a couple hours and we do need to go over your case.”
“Fuck,” Brad gasped, pumping his hips forwards into Fick’s grip. “How can you talk about work and jerk me off at the same time?”
“Didn’t the Marine Corps teach multi-tasking, Brad?” Fick asked. His voice was light, but Brad could hear a slight waver creep in there. He grinned to himself as Fick shoved at his waistband, letting his nicely creased trousers crumple to the floor.
“As homoerotic as the Marines admittedly are, we never got around to this in my training,” he said, going weak at the knees as Fick rubbed a wet finger over him, slowly pushed it inside. “I must have been sick that day.”
“Pity.” Fick was leaning over him, speaking into the back of his neck, rubbing his lips over the sensitive skin there. “Seems like kind of a waste. If I’d been an officer, Brad, I would have had you on your fucking knees on day one.”
“You are a kinky, messed up motherfucker,” Brad hissed, pressing back against him. Fick had two fingers in now, lubed with nothing but spit. It felt fucking amazing. “You gonna screw me, or just talk at me, sir?”
Fick pulled his fingers out, rifled in his desk draw for a condom while still holding Brad steady with his palm pressed into his back. He tore into the packet with his teeth and Brad squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head further as Fick pushed against him, pushed him open.
“I like that you call me sir,” Fick admitted breathlessly, and slid inside, drawing a harsh gasp from Brad. “Oh, Jesus, that’s good.”
Brad could only groan, held hard against the desk by Fick’s hands, by his entire body. It was too much, and yet not enough, Fick was keeping him right on the edge. He wanted more skin, more contact, but he thought if he got it he’d just straight up die.
Fick apparently didn’t care about any of that, though. He was true to his word, fucking Brad hard and fast, gripping his hip rough enough to leave bruises, leaving wet kisses all over the back of his neck. Brad got too close too fast, fucking himself back on Fick’s dick, panting like he was running a marathon.
“Don’t come on my desk,” Fick hissed, sensing his desperation. “I’ll fucking kill you. Save it for me, Brad, let me - fuck - let me finish and I swear I’ll suck it all out of you, I’ll make it so good…”
“Shut up,” Brad grunted. “Shut the fuck up or I’m gonna blow all over your inbox.”
Fick laughed at that, wrapped his hand around the base of Brad’s cock and squeezed. “Don’t you dare. Oh, god, god, Brad…”
“Come on, sir,” Brad gritted out, concentrating so hard on not coming that his vision was blurring. “Come for me, come in me, I want it…”
And Fick did, shoving in hard and going still, slamming Brad down and holding him there, muscles quivering. Brad held himself tense, stayed right where he was as Fick pulled out, got rid of the condom. “Sir,” he said, voice a little wrecked. He raised his head and looked at Fick, looked into his eyes. “Please.”
And Fick was nodding at him, slipping in between Brad and the desk, sliding down to the floor. “Ok, Brad,” he said, tilting his head back. “Give it to me.”
If Brad had been in any state to worry about it, it would have been embarrassing how quickly he came, filling Fick’s mouth, painting his lips and chin. “Nate, Nate, Nate,” he chanted, cupping the side of Fick’s face, getting come on his own hand, smearing it around. “God, sir, you’re so amazing.”
Fick slumped back against his desk, still staring up at Brad steadily, a little smile playing over his dirty mouth. “Don’t think you’re going to get out of going over the Baltimore thing just because you put out,” he said, and wiped the back of his hand over his face. “We’ve got to be fucking professional about this, Colbert.”
And Brad just closed his eyes and laughed helplessly.
“Aye aye, sir.”
~End!
So have some Brad/Nate!
No, I can't believe I wrote it either. It's for sgrio , who requested a Brad/Nate X-Files au. This is probably not what she was expecting, but *shrugs* It's all I got. Enjoy, bb!
Title: Appropriate Office Behaviour
Pairing: Brad/Nate (!!!), Ray/Jo (from Supernatural)
Word Count: 2636
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters nor have any connection with the real people the characters are based on. This is pure non-profit fiction.
Note: Glorified comment fic, no beta, just for fun. Brad and Ray are FBI agents, Nate is their boss, and Jo is hot.
“Giant. Slugman.” Brad dropped the report on his desk and looked across the room at his partner. “You’re really gonna go with ‘giant slugman’ on this one, Person.”
“Yeah, Colbert, I’m fairly sure we can close the case now,” Ray said. “I really feel like we’ve reached closure.” He leaned way back in his chair and gazed up at his girlfriend, who was sitting on his desk with one boot placed firmly on the seat between his legs. “What do you think, Jo?”
“I think you’re both a pair of giant freaks and I can’t believe I’m dating you,” she replied, bored. She was flipping through a file that Brad was pretty sure was confidential, but he’d basically given up trying to stop her from doing whatever the hell she wanted by now. Less grief.
“Hey, you’re only dating one of us,” he muttered instead. “The inferior one, at that.” He reread the end of the report. Ray had actually used the words ‘giant slugman’. It was right there in black and white. They were so screwed.
Jo smirked. “Oh, please, you think I didn’t realise you were a package deal when I hooked up with Ray? It’s like a I’ve got two boyfriends but only one puts out.”
“Speaking of which,” Ray nodded towards the door. “Colbert, can you please go and make googly eyes at Fick for, like, forty minutes or so? You can bond over my awesome report.”
“Forty? Fifteen should do it,” Jo said under her breath. Ray sputtered, and Brad sighed.
“Person, what have I told you about sex in my office?”
“Our office,” Ray corrected automatically. “And you’re not the boss of me, homes. If I want to get freaky with my-”
“Yeah, you’re not getting laid today,” Jo interrupted smoothly, and tossed the papers she’d been reading on the desk. Brad saw it was one of his old case files, from back in the peaceful, blissful days before Ray was his partner. She pointed at it. “You’ve made at last three errors in your concluding report, not to mention your investigation method was fairly iffy to begin with,” she said. “How is it that getting Ray actually improved your quality of work?”
Brad stared at her. “You’re a barmaid,” he said meanly. He liked Jo, he really did, but today he had to go to Assistant Director Fick and give him a report about slugmen, and it was kind of messing with his Zen.
Jo just smiled sweetly at him. “I’m smarter than you.”
“What?”
Ray jumped up and started bustling manically around the coffee maker. “Who wants espresso!” he asked chirpily, like a demented sparrow. Brad and Jo ignored him.
“I’m smarter than you,” Jo repeated. “I know this because I hacked into the files of all your schools and colleges, all the way back to kindergarten, and did a comparative analysis of all our test scores. Through our academic career I beat you by something along the lines of three to seven percent per assessment. In fact, the only subject you ever kicked my ass at was home ec.” She cocked her head, long blond curls tumbling over her shoulders. “Which is kind of embarrassing for you.”
Brad felt a headache starting, right behind his eyes. “You do realise that I am an FBI agent who can arrest you at any time, right?”
She waved her hand. “Ray knows that if I get arrested he won’t get any, so I’m not really concerned about that, Colbert.” She leaned back and winked. “I’m smarter than him, too, if it makes you feel any better.”
“You ran my academic records?” Ray asked, coffee forgotten. “That is so hot.”
Brad almost resisted temptation, almost took the high road and just walked out, but in the end he couldn’t do it. He had to know. “So who wins out of me and Person?”
Jo shook her head. “Oh, no I’m not getting involved in a dick measuring contest between the two of you. Just accept that you’re both my bitches and leave it at that, ok?”
Ray was staring adoringly at her again. “Colbert. Colbert, please leave. Please go flirt with Fick for awhile, please give me some time alone with my girlfriend. I’ll do all your paperwork for a week.”
“You’re already doing all my paperwork for the next two weeks because of the last favour I did for you.” But Brad got up and grabbed his jacket anyway. He could only put Fick off for so long. “Don’t forget you need to go down to the lab to run the thing for the thing.”
Jo perked up. “The lab?”
“Oh, the giant bee-man thing?” Ray said.
Brad’s headache got worse. “Person, it is not a giant fucking bee-man. Ok? There is a logical explanation for this that we just haven’t seen yet-”
“Colbert, the logical explanation is that some dude with chitin and a great big fuckin’ stinger fucked up some poor lady and left her body covered in pollen and wax. Giant. Fucking. Bee-man.”
Jo held up her hand. “Ok, spook one and spook two, I don’t care about your stupid improbable cases. Ray, are we or are we not going down to the lab to see Walt?”
“Person is going down to the lab to find out where that pollen came from. Leave poor Walt alone.”
Jo looked a little dreamy. “But he’s so…innocent.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Brad headed to the door. “Behave yourselves, children. No sex in my office, no sex with Walt, in fact, you two should probably abstain from sex completely, for the good of humanity.”
“Yes dad!” they called after him as he charged down the hall. Brad was willing to bet money that Ray already had his hand up Jo’s shirt. The only comforting thought was that if she really wasn’t in the mood, she’d probably break his wrist.
~
Fick’s office was several floors above theirs, which wasn’t really surprising considering he and Ray were hidden down in the basement where the higher ups could pretend they didn’t exist. Fick’s office had a window. With a view. Also, he got a secretary, but that wasn’t so cool.
Mallory was a stern, hard-assed woman in her late forties who Brad privately referred to as The Gatekeeper. It paid to bring her sacrificial offerings of coffee and donuts and the souls of small children - he’d tried flirting with her a few times, but he was pretty sure she’d been seriously considering gutting him with a letter-opener, so he’d given it up. Ray seemed to have a way with her, though, which was just one of the many strange and upsetting things he would never understand about his partner.
“Hi, Mallory,” he said, approaching her desk and smiling at her warmly. “I thought you might like some coffee. Skinny latte with one sugar, right?” She didn’t look impressed, but she didn’t shoot staples at him either, so he counted it as a win and forged bravely on. “Is Assistant Director Fick in his office?”
She glared at him for a few seconds. “Do you have an appointment?”
Bitch, bitch, bitch, Brad chanted in his head. She made all of Fick’s appointments herself, so she knew he didn’t. He clung desperately to his smile. “Well no I don’t Mallory, but he did ask to see me this afternoon.”
She sighed elaborately and picked up her phone. “Mr Fick? Agent Colbert is here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment, can you fit him in?”
Bitch, bitch, bitch. She’d left the ‘Special’ off the front of his title on purpose just to piss him off. The look on her face told him this. He took a deep breath and waited, leaving sweaty fingerprints all over the report he was clutching. Finally, she hung up. “Mr Fick will see you in just a moment,” she said, as if it gave her actual pain to utter the words.
“Thanks, Mallory. You’re a gem,” Brad replied through gritted teeth. At a standstill, they stared at each other for a little longer, before Fick opened his door and stuck his head out.
“Brad, hi, come on in,” he said, shooting him a grin. “Mal, Special Agent Colbert needs to give me a private briefing. This is top priority at the moment, so hold all my calls and visitors until we’re done, ok? Thanks”
Brad gave her a smug look as he followed Fick in, couldn’t help himself. No high roads for him at all today, but he was good with it.
“A private briefing?” he said to Fick when the door was safely shut and locked behind them. Nate smirked.
“Crude, but accurate, wouldn’t you say? Although, hopefully, not too brief.”
Brad held his ground as Fick advanced on him, pressed right up close. “Sir, I’m not sure if this is appropriate office behaviour,” he said dryly, tracing his thumb over Fick’s lower lip. Fick darted his tongue out, swiping across Brad’s skin, and Brad swallowed hard.
“You’re right, Special Agent Colbert. It probably goes against recognised office policy to slam you up against the wall and fuck you until you scream for more.” Fick grinned and stepped back. “Thanks for pointing that out.”
Brad grabbed his wrist. “Nate.”
Fick laughed. “No seriously, work first, sex later. Is that your case report on those anomalies in Baltimore?
Brad paused. “Uh… I’m gonna need you to fuck me before you read this, actually.”
Fick raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Why’s that?”
“Because once you’ve read it and had me escorted from your office and made me clear out my desk, I probably won’t be in the mood anymore.”
“Oh come on, Brad. I’m not going to fire you. Just give it to me,” Fick said, reaching for the file. Brad held it away, out of his reach, using his height to advantage.
“That’s a negative, sir.”
“Colbert.” Fick’s voice went low, dangerous, and it sent a beat of lust through Brad’s body. “Give me the fucking file.”
Brad bit his lip. “Make me,” he said, and out of the fucking blue Fick was on him, shoving him towards the desk and bending him over it. Brad was an ex-Marine, still considered himself a devil dog at heart, but even he had to admit it - Fick had some moves for a civvies.
“You’re such a pain in the ass, Brad,” Fick said, kicking Brad’s legs apart. “You could have just given me the damned report, and I would have ignored it and sucked your dick. But no. You have to do things the hard way.”
“I like the hard way,” Brad said, bracing himself on his forearms. He could practically hear the smirk in Fick’s voice as he replied.
“Yeah, I hope so.” He reached under Brad to fiddle with his belt, using his other hand to shove down on Brad’s back. Like Brad was planning on going anywhere. He loved this, loved the power-play between him and Fick. Loved Letting Fick win in the office, and then loved putting him down when he came over to Brad’s house after work, when he stopped being Fick and turned into Nate. It was kind of fucked up, but hell, they’d given him Person for a reason - Brad knew from fucked up.
“You even gonna undress me?” he asked, hot and uncomfortable in his suit and tie, feeling too buttoned up, restricted.
“No time,” Fick said, and unzipped Brad’s pants, rubbing his hand against his erection. Brad groaned and dropped his forehead to Fick’s ink blotter. “I’ve got a meeting across town in a couple hours and we do need to go over your case.”
“Fuck,” Brad gasped, pumping his hips forwards into Fick’s grip. “How can you talk about work and jerk me off at the same time?”
“Didn’t the Marine Corps teach multi-tasking, Brad?” Fick asked. His voice was light, but Brad could hear a slight waver creep in there. He grinned to himself as Fick shoved at his waistband, letting his nicely creased trousers crumple to the floor.
“As homoerotic as the Marines admittedly are, we never got around to this in my training,” he said, going weak at the knees as Fick rubbed a wet finger over him, slowly pushed it inside. “I must have been sick that day.”
“Pity.” Fick was leaning over him, speaking into the back of his neck, rubbing his lips over the sensitive skin there. “Seems like kind of a waste. If I’d been an officer, Brad, I would have had you on your fucking knees on day one.”
“You are a kinky, messed up motherfucker,” Brad hissed, pressing back against him. Fick had two fingers in now, lubed with nothing but spit. It felt fucking amazing. “You gonna screw me, or just talk at me, sir?”
Fick pulled his fingers out, rifled in his desk draw for a condom while still holding Brad steady with his palm pressed into his back. He tore into the packet with his teeth and Brad squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head further as Fick pushed against him, pushed him open.
“I like that you call me sir,” Fick admitted breathlessly, and slid inside, drawing a harsh gasp from Brad. “Oh, Jesus, that’s good.”
Brad could only groan, held hard against the desk by Fick’s hands, by his entire body. It was too much, and yet not enough, Fick was keeping him right on the edge. He wanted more skin, more contact, but he thought if he got it he’d just straight up die.
Fick apparently didn’t care about any of that, though. He was true to his word, fucking Brad hard and fast, gripping his hip rough enough to leave bruises, leaving wet kisses all over the back of his neck. Brad got too close too fast, fucking himself back on Fick’s dick, panting like he was running a marathon.
“Don’t come on my desk,” Fick hissed, sensing his desperation. “I’ll fucking kill you. Save it for me, Brad, let me - fuck - let me finish and I swear I’ll suck it all out of you, I’ll make it so good…”
“Shut up,” Brad grunted. “Shut the fuck up or I’m gonna blow all over your inbox.”
Fick laughed at that, wrapped his hand around the base of Brad’s cock and squeezed. “Don’t you dare. Oh, god, god, Brad…”
“Come on, sir,” Brad gritted out, concentrating so hard on not coming that his vision was blurring. “Come for me, come in me, I want it…”
And Fick did, shoving in hard and going still, slamming Brad down and holding him there, muscles quivering. Brad held himself tense, stayed right where he was as Fick pulled out, got rid of the condom. “Sir,” he said, voice a little wrecked. He raised his head and looked at Fick, looked into his eyes. “Please.”
And Fick was nodding at him, slipping in between Brad and the desk, sliding down to the floor. “Ok, Brad,” he said, tilting his head back. “Give it to me.”
If Brad had been in any state to worry about it, it would have been embarrassing how quickly he came, filling Fick’s mouth, painting his lips and chin. “Nate, Nate, Nate,” he chanted, cupping the side of Fick’s face, getting come on his own hand, smearing it around. “God, sir, you’re so amazing.”
Fick slumped back against his desk, still staring up at Brad steadily, a little smile playing over his dirty mouth. “Don’t think you’re going to get out of going over the Baltimore thing just because you put out,” he said, and wiped the back of his hand over his face. “We’ve got to be fucking professional about this, Colbert.”
And Brad just closed his eyes and laughed helplessly.
“Aye aye, sir.”
~End!