The world consisted of only three things: Fletcher, Zach, the desk. And he was right in the middle. Pinned and getting fucked hard only made Zach move into it more, pull more, scratch harder. He utterly failed at staying still. It dug the desk harder into his back, and he felt the jolts and bumps sure to leave marks, but Zach only moaned louder, the pain making it feel that much better. And he liked it, the pain. It wasn't just that the difference with pleasure made getting fucked feel even more intense. The pain itself was...pleasurable. "Ooooooh," Zach moaned as one thrust dug him hard against the wood beneath him.
A smile filled his face as Fletcher reacted to his nails. Oh yes, they were clawing, even though without blood on his fingers, under his nails, just yet. The thought pushed him up against Fletcher, matched by scratches slowly digging across the back beneath his fingers. "Fuck," Zach groaned, and as the desk dug in harder to his back, he gave Fletcher's just as good. Zach's moans carried, nothing muffling them.