britin1729 (britin1729) wrote in _love_qaf_fic, @ 2010-03-07 23:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | author: britin1729, fantasy series |
Fantasy Series
Title: Internal Desires
Disclaimer: I don't own QAF
Pairing: Brian/Justin.
Rating: R
A/N: One in a mini-series. Each short fic in the "Fantasy" series will feature a different fantasy of either Brian's or Justin's as they play them out. I've got a few written, but if anyone has any kinks they want to read suggestions or bunnies, I'd like to keep writing these. :)
Fantasy #2: Brian puts his office to good use.
He looks nervous, which is probably justified. I am, after all, the boss. Everyone here fears me. Or worships me. Or both. And this is the first time he's ever been called into my office. Actually, I think it's the first time I've even spoken to him directly since he started interning here at Vanguard.
“Shut the door,” I say. He hastens to close it. “Lock it.” There's an audible click.
“Sit down,” I order more than offer, and he takes a seat in front of my desk, small and fidgety, making me think forcibly of some kind of timid baby deer in an unfamiliar part of the forest. He bites his lip, which draws attention to the fact that said lip is quite a perfect shade of pink and also rather plump. I wonder how exactly it would feel to sink my own teeth into it.
“You know why I called you in here?” I begin brusquely, shaking these thoughts from my mind. I know all too well what happens when you mix business with pleasure, and although I'm sure it would be very, very pleasurable indeed, I'm not all that willing to risk anything like the “Kip incident” again.
“Um...not-not really, Mr. Kinney, sir,” stutters Hot Ass Intern, which I decide on the spot is my new name for him, since I can't actually remember what it really is. Seriously, though, interns? I'm going after interns now? I am so going to end up losing my job one of these days.
He blinks big, round eyes at me.
Shit. Maybe that day is closer than I think.
“I'm sure there was a reason,” I drawl, drawing out the word, “that you were offered a position in this company. I'm just trying to figure out what the hell it was.”
He flushes. Hmm. Interesting look on him. “Um...sir?” he asks, obviously flustered. Fuck, if he knew all the ways I could fucking fluster him....
Business. Right. Had to take care of business. As in advertising. As in meetings and mock-ups and employees that strode around the place with their heads up their asses.
Trying my best to adopt my usual, casually-tyrannical attitude when dealing with such employees, I lean back in my desk chair with a deliberately bored expression on my face. “Listen, you're a talented kid, you wouldn't be here if you weren't. But this isn't school. This is business. And in the business world, there's no room for fuck ups.”
His skin goes from pale to beet red in under three seconds. “If this is about the thing with the boards for those sunglasses....”
“You're damn right,” I say harshly, some measure of self control falling away at the mention of those particular boards. “They were a fucking mess. And do you know why they were a fucking mess?”
He mutters something about “apologies” and “sir,” all the while chewing on that damn bottom lip.
“I could have you thrown out of the program for this,” I say sternly. Truth be told, I'm not entirely sure what I can and can't do where interns are concerned, particularly when they're not even in my department, but he doesn't need to know that. “Thanks to your little 'miscommunication,' we nearly lost the account.”
“Sir...Mr. Kinney...it won't happen again,” he stammers. “Please...I need this for credit...t-to graduate...”
“Well, I guess you should have considered that,” I say dismissively.
“Sir,” he says, practically pleading now. He takes a deep breath. Lets it out. Steadies himself. “Mr. Kinney...please. Just give me another chance.”
Fuck, I'll give you a chance, all right. A chance at the greatest fuck of a lifeti—
Shit. Had to stay focused. Cool it, Kinney. Fucking. Cool. It.
He blinks big blue eyes at me again, and I decide to hell with focusing and moral decency. Some people say doing the right thing gives them a good feeling. I say, orgasms give you an even better feeling, and achieving that feeling is twice the fun. No cleaning up trash at parks, or serving soup to seniors, or scooping up animal shit. Just a hot, hard body, and a smooth ass to sink into.
“A chance,” I repeat, raising an eyebrow at the twitchy little intern, with his big blinking blue eyes and hair that falls into them. I suddenly want to run my fingers through it, while simultaneously discovering what it feels like to have those perfect lips wrapped around my cock.
He nods, his wide eyes never leaving my face.
I lick my lips. “Fine,” I say, pushing my chair back from my desk. “You want a chance to redeem yourself, I'll give you one.” Let it never be said that I am not a generous man.
He just looks at me, obviously confused, looking tense and tiny in the chair across from me.
“Come here,” I tell him. He stands up. “Closer.” I gesture with my hand, luring him in until he's standing right in front of me. I run my hand down his chest, the waistband of his pants, his crotch. He gives a little shiver.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice shaky.
“Giving you a chance,” I shrug, my fingers looping through his belt loops and pulling his hips closer to my face.
“But...”
“What?” I ask impatiently.
He looks scared, teeth once again sinking into that bottom lip. I decide then that I have to know what that feels like. Have to. “Mr. Kinney, I don't think...this isn't what I meant....”
A shy one, huh? He's certainly queer...my gaydar has been going off the charts since the second I laid eyes on him. I wonder vaguely, though, if he's a virgin. I ask him.
“W-what?” he stutters, completely taken aback.
“Are. You. A. Virgin?” I repeat slowly.
“I'm...I— ” he says. He pushes some of that pretty blond hair out of his eyes, and answers. “Yeah...I mean, in most ways. In...I guess in the way most people would consider....”
“Well, it just so happens I've had good luck with virgins,” I smirk at him. His eyes grow wide at the comment, and the implications.
“I've...you want me to...for the job?” he asks, swallowing hard.
I shrug. “You wanted redemption, right? And as your boss, I am in a position to offer you assistance.” Take that however you will.
“And...if I...if I don't...?”
I consider this. “Then good luck, kid. Just know that the partners of this company...particularly myself...are not very forgiving when it comes to fuck ups from student interns that have been working here a month.”
“Two,” he says quietly. “Two months.”
I smirk again. “Two, then.”
He takes a deep breath, once again pushing hair out of his eyes. Slowly, he lowers himself to his knees, so that he's eye level with my dick, whose interest has peaked considerably since starting this conversation.
“Just a second,” I say, halting him. “I am in no way promising you a promotion, job security, or...anything else.”
“That's...well, that's sort of what it sounded like,” he says fairly.
Yeah, but that's a good way to incur a law suit. “I'm merely promising that this particular fuck up will not be mentioned to Gardner Vance. Is that worth it to you?”
He swallows thickly and nods, reaching up to unzip my pants.
“And I'm not promising you a leg-up of any kind, or any additional connections or opportunities. Just so we're clear.”
“I got it.” He once again reaches for the zipper of my pants.
“Also, this is completely willing on your part, right?”
“Jesus, do you want me to suck you off or not?” he snaps, looking up at me from my lap so that I can see his very frustrated glare.
“Just making sure to cover all the bases,” I say defensively. “I've already gotten sued once, if you'll recall, and I didn't even do anything that time. Well, barely.”
He snorts. “It's not like this is for real, Brian.”
I give him a filthy look. “You're breaking character,” I accuse him. “Get up and bend over the desk, Ju—uh, intern.”
“Oh, yeah, I'm breaking character,” Justin rolls his eyes.
“This isn't fair,” I say hotly. “We did your thing in the middle of Babylon, and now it's my turn for a little boss/intern fantasy and you won't even—”
“Fantasy? Can this even be called a fantasy, if we've fucked in your office a hundred times?” he asks, sounding exasperated. I glare at him. So I have a kink...so fucking what? So I like doing things I'm not supposed to do, and fucking my non-conventional boyfriend in my workplace happens to be one of them. Sue me.
Okay, poor choice of words.
“We've never done it like this,” I point out. “You were always you, and I was me.”
“And now we're...what, exactly? I'm the nervous little virgin intern, and you're...what the fuck are you, anyway? You go from a total dick trying to get me to suck you off to save my future, and then you start reminding me that you're not promising me job security and whatever the fuck?”
“Well, it feels...I don't know,” I say irritably, brushing it off. “Let's just get back to it.”
“Well, I was trying to, and then someone had to go get all moral and whatever on me...you're supposed to be the one in charge, Brian, not the one who's afraid of getting his ass sued for turning his intern into a sex slave.”
I snort. “Please, like you'd sue me.”
“I might sue you for pain and suffering if you don't take care of my fucking hard on in the next five minutes,” he says through gritted teeth.
I fix him with a stern look. “Is that any way to speak to your boss?” I demand. He looks up at me, a hint of excitement in his eyes at the roughness in my voice.
“No, sir. I'm sorry, sir,” he says, sounding a little like that annoying as fuck elf thing from the Harry Potter movies who can't go a sentence without the word “sir.” Doddy or Dobblin or whatever the hell its name is.
Uh— not that I've ever seen them or anything.
“Call me Mr. Kinney,” I order. There's something that gets me unaccountably hot about that, coming from him. I think I'm developing some sort of kink concerning my own name, however pathetic that may be.
“Yes, Mr. Kinney.” He gives me this sultry look to go along with the tone. Yep. Definite kink in formation here.
“Look, I may be able to offer you some assistance during your internship at Vanguard, if you're willing to do something for me,” I say, disregarding my “morals,” as he put it. That's certainly a new one; I've never exactly been accused of having too strong a moral code before.
He nods, reaching up yet again for the zipper on my pants. He pulls them down, obviously doing his best not to smile when he sees that I'm not wearing underwear, then he's pulling out my dick, looking at it almost reverently.
“Tell me what you're doing to do.”
His quickly stifled grin threatens to betray him again. “I'm going to suck your dick, Mr. Kinney,” he whispers throatily, his tongue poking out to lick at the tip of my cock. He swirls it around the head, making me hiss in pleasure.
“I'm going to suck your cock,” he promises me. “Suck it down my throat and let you fuck my face.” Jesus Christ.
“Do it.”
“Yes, Mr. Kinney,” he smiles at me, then his head is between my thighs as he pulls my pants further down my legs, around my ankles. He teases for a while, running his tongue along the underside of my dick, eagerly lapping up pre-cum and generally driving me wild. I grasp his hair and pull lightly, and he takes the hint; next second, my dick is engulfed in the wet warmth of his mouth as he wraps his lips around me. I try my best to concentrate on our role-play, but find myself watching his head bob up and down in my lap instead. Right before I'm about to come, I pull him up and off. He looks at me inquisitively.
“What...?”
“Take off the clothes,” I command. When he doesn't do it fast enough, I reach over to do it for him, ignoring his protest when I accidentally tear off a button. Whatever, I'll buy him a new one. I pull him close for a deep, fiery kiss as I fumble with his belt, stepping out of my own pants and kicking them aside.
“Bend over the desk,” I tell him, my voice rough and ragged. He does so eagerly, sprawling over stacks of papers and office supplies and I'm going to have to fix it all tomorrow, but his ass simply looks too delicious not to take the time to sample. I lick his hole, plunging my tongue inside and fucking him with it, burying my face between his cheeks. Soon, he's writhing on the desk, knocking shit over and grasping the opposite edge. He cries out loudly, and I put my hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.
“You don't want to get caught, do you?” I ask. Though he's trembling slightly with just the effort of holding himself up, he manages to shake his head no. “What do you want?”
“Whatever you want from me, Mr. Kinney,” he says when I let go of his mouth to let him speak.
Well, if he's going to be that compliant about it. “Personally, I think you ought to be punished for your fuck up. If not by anyone else, than by me, at least. I think I deserve that, with the way I'm saving your ass and all, don't you?” He nods.
“What was that?”
“Yes, Mr. Kinney.”
“Better,” I say, and stand up. I lean over him, licking a long path from the back of his neck, all the way down his spine. Right when he's pushing his ass up at me again, begging for me to rim him or fuck him or something, I do it.
He jumps away from the sting of my hand, crying out involuntarily. I rub his pink cheek soothingly while I wait for this to sink in...where we're going with this. This is sort of a secret kink of Justin's— well, as secret as any kink of Justin's can be with me. He enjoys the occasional spanking, and though he's never actually straight-out asked me to do it, he makes his opinion on it more than clear during the instances we do.
He cries out when I do it again, bringing my palm down on his smooth, perfect ass. I reach up to put my other hand over his mouth again; I'm almost sure everyone has gone home by this point, but just in case...better safe than sorry. The door may be locked, but with all the noise Justin is making, it wouldn't exactly be tough to figure out what we're doing in here.
He alternates between tensing up and going limp as I continue with the assault on his perfect ass, moaning and writhing and trying to push his leaking dick against the desk.
“Please...fuck, please, Mr. Kinney...” he groans in between curses when I let go of his mouth. I do want to hear some of it. He's so fucking hot when he's like this, and I love the sounds he makes.
“I'm gonna fuck you,” I growl in his ear, when at last I decide his tender pink flesh has had enough. I've got a condom in my hand, lube in the other, my cock harder than ever as I stare at him, spread out over my desk, ready for me to take.
“Yes...” he whispers in encouragement. “Please, do it, Brian....”
I frown, wondering if I should chastise him for breaking character again, then decide I'm way too horny to give a shit.
I'm inside him in one swift stroke, and he knocks something else off my desk that I'm sure is breakable. “Fuck, yes, fuck, oh God, fuck...” becomes a mantra of sorts for him, and I'm sure by now he's completely forgotten about the fantasy, as well as the fact that we're in my office right now.
I change my angle slightly so that I hit his prostate with every thrust, making him jerk against the desk, pleading for me to touch him and fuck him and everything I'm already doing. My hand's around his dick, jerking in time to my thrusts, and before long he's had it completely and is coming all over the desk, the floor, my hand. I thrust into him a few more times, and then I'm coming, too. He collapses on the desk, and I collapse on top of him.
It's several minutes before either of us speak.
“So...how was it?” he asks finally. “Mr. Kinney?” he adds.
I chuckle and kiss the base of his neck. “The most fantastic fantasy I've ever played out, Taylor,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Really?” he turns his head to look at me, smiling. We actually haven't done much of the role-play thing together, which is something we've both been eagerly trying to rectify lately, since our reunion, or whatever the fuck you want to call it. Since he came back. I just kiss him again in answer.
As much as I would like to never have to pull out of him again, this isn't really the most comfortable position for either of us, and soon I have no choice. He grunts a little when I do, then goes about locating our clothes while I tie off the condom and throw it away. We help dress each other, underwear and pants and shirts and ties, and by the time we're finished, I'm about ready to just tear it all off him again and bend him back over the desk.
“So, it's my turn now, right?” he asks, his eyes looking so fervent I have to admit, I'm a little nervous. “I get to pick the next fantasy?”
“You get to pick the next fantasy.”
“And it can be anything I want?”
“Anything.”
He grins brightly. I'm suddenly afraid.
“You are...I mean, this is going to be like, somewhat sane, right? You're not going to have us...I don't know...fucking on the outside ledge of a building or anything, are you? Or in a room full of lesbians? Cause that is one really fucking good way to lose a hard on.” Naturally, I'm all for fun and kink and the rest of it, but I'd prefer staying away from anything quite so...well, stupid. And with that look in his eyes, I'm starting to wonder if our definitions of the word differ unfortunately. “This is gonna to be something I'm going to be into, right?”
He smirks at me, winking as he straightens his collar. “Of course, Mr. Kinney.”