THURSDAY’S T SHIRT
By fancyfigures
1x2x1, NC17


Duo shifted the papers round on the large teak board table with fitful enthusiasm. He was chewing gum; he was humming something that might have been a popular techno hit but probably just sounded that way coming from him.

The door behind him opened, then closed behind the visitor. He didn’t turn round. “Heero. Hi.”

“You knew it was me?”

Duo nodded. “That last season cologne’s a real giveaway. Oh, and the lingering aroma of those exploding coffee granules.” He turned around to face the other man, leaning against the closed door. Duo’s eyes ran up Heero’s body from foot to head; no hidden tee shirt today. Just long limbs, tight abs, broad shoulders. Bright, fierce eyes; firm, greedy lips…

Heero frowned back. Duo’s expressions distracted him too easily. “Two hours,” he said, with careful precision. “Two long hours in a virtually alien language, explaining to Maintenance that I didn’t touch anything except to turn the coffee machine on.”

“Explaining -?”

“Fruitlessly,” snapped Heero. “A contribution to its repair will be deducted from my salary, as a ‘goodwill gesture’ on my part. I just want to know how the hell you always manage to avoid the fall-out – how everyone believes your innocent victim look …”

Duo shrugged cheerfully. “Just lucky, I guess. I thought you liked that look on me.” He tugged aimlessly at the collar of his sweater.

Heero growled. “Not now. I have to collect the department’s reports from you. I have to develop a more committed attitude to my work, quote, unquote. I have to impress.”

Duo grinned slyly. “You’ve never failed in that.”

Heero rolled his eyes. He stared at the piles of paper spread over the table. “Are they in monthly order?” At Duo’s nod, he walked over and started to flick through the headers. Beside him, Duo fidgeted. Out of the corner of his eye, Heero saw Duo run his hand gently over the smooth table top.

“The air’s always hot in here,” Duo sighed, theatrically. “That’s management for you.” He peeled his sweater up and off his torso. Heero could see the tee shirt underneath ride up over Duo’s navel; the muscles of his belly clenched. But when Duo’s hand started to stroke up Heero’s thigh, Heero was ready for him.

A quick sidestep, an unanticipated grip of the elbow, and Duo was pressed back down on to the table. He grunted, surprised; his hand scraped across the varnished surface, seeking purchase. March’s reports creased awkwardly under his hip; two pages of September’s summary scattered from under his flattened braid.

Heero loomed over him, staring down on the newly revealed tee shirt.

I shaved my balls for this?

It was his turn to laugh. “I’m flattered,” he said. “And you did.”

Duo’s mouth opened helplessly as Heero leant down, trapping his body. Heero’s teeth nipped at Duo’s jawline, making him writhe. His tongue licked at Duo’s throat, drawing out a gargled moan. He pushed up the lower hem of the tee shirt and dropped his head to lick along Duo’s belly.

“Board Meeting in ten minutes,” gasped Duo. Heero lifted his head and stared at him. “I can’t believe I said that,” groaned Duo. He was panting; his hands were flung out to the sides, clawing at loose papers. His feet hung rather clumsily over the edge of the table, his toes skimming above the floor. “If you stop now, I swear your ass is mine for weeks …”

Heero raised an eyebrow. “Be quick, then.” He dragged over a chair, placing it between Duo’s outstretched legs. When Duo wriggled his head around inquisitively, Heero pressed down on his chest, keeping him flat on his back. Then he sat on the chair, facing the table, and unzipped Duo’s pants. He slipped a hand inside - Duo yelped. “Cold,” he grunted.

Heero grinned and lifted Duo’s dick out of his boxers, caressing the smooth, hairless flesh, feeling the weight of the balls shifting and tightening beneath it. “Naked skin,” he murmured. “Heightened response. You could say you’re streamlined for speed –“

“You can say I’ll go like shit off a shovel, for all I care,” groaned Duo. “Just get on with it, for fuck’s sake.”

Heero’s amusement was muffled as he slipped his mouth over Duo’s cock and started to suck against it. Duo moaned, and the sound tugged at Heero’s own groin, his cock swelling in response. His lips slid easily over the exposed flesh, licking at the gentle goose bumps, letting the nude skin catch on his tongue’s roughness. The captive cock jerked with every stroke; it ached for a climax, begged for it.

Duo came with a guttural groan, his back arching on the slippery surface, his heels drumming at the leg of the table. Heero took the mouthful of thick cum, letting it swill against his palate before swallowing, savouring the tartness. They were both panting now.

Beside Duo’s left ear, the intercom buzzed. “Fuck”, he sighed, collapsing back down on the table. Heero went as still as stone.

“Who’s there?” came a puzzled voice. “Is that you, Mr Chairman? I’ll bring the coffee in at once –“

Heero paled; Duo wrenched himself upright, fumbling with his pants and tugging down his shirt.

“The papers …” Heero’s voice was a hoarse whisper. Around them was a sea of jumbled, ruined reports. Behind him, he heard the soft squeak of the thick Board room door opening to let in the Chairman’s secretary and her tray of executive refreshments.

Duo’s shocked expression spoke without words. What do you want to do?

Heero shrugged in defeat. It was Thursday. Maybe that was a good day to die – in a corporate sense.

 

 

 

 

To Friday!   www.fancyfigures.com/FRIDAY.htm