Work Text:
It’s been a long, taxing day of staring at his computer screen, flicking through papers, adding to his notes and repeat, repeat, repeat for Paul. As he makes his way up the flights of stairs to his apartment with his books and papers in his arms, he can’t wait to dump everything on his desk and get into his bed. Everything can wait until tomorrow.
His feet ache, his eyes sting underneath his glasses with tiredness and his back has even begun to twinge, likely from the hunched position he’s taken to whilst sitting in at his desk.
By the time he reaches the fifth floor, he’s ready to collapse with exhaustion but he’s able to conjure enough energy to fumble around in his pocket for his keys and unlocks the door to take one final, tired step inside his apartment, breathing a heavy sigh of relief.
“You’re late.” A familiar voice startles him—Paul jumps, gasps, and drops his books to the floor, papers spreading across the room messily, landing everywhere.
“M-Monty,” Paul says, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Why are you–? How did you–?”
Monty Schafer is draped across Paul’s couch, knees wide open making the seams of his trousers strain, and it takes all of Paul’s energy to forbid his eyes from staring at the bulge at the front of his brown pants.
Paul drops to his knees, picking his papers up hurriedly but stops suddenly when Monty is in front of him grabbing his wrists, bringing Paul’s soft gaze up to meet his.
“I missed you, Sevier,” Monty whispers. “Missed those lips. So I thought I’d drop in and see you.”
“How did you get in here? I’ve got the only key–!”
“Babe. When you’re above the law, locked doors aren’t a problem,” Monty chews his gum, smiling. “But you probably shouldn’t leave your bedroom window open. Anyone could just sneak in and find your hidden stash of gay pornographic magazines hidden in the back of your closet.”
Paul’s blush spreads across the entirely of his skin faster than a wildfire devouring the landscape.
“T-those aren’t mine!”
Monty chuckles, “Sure they aren’t. I mean, anyone could have an obsession with redheads.”
Paul covers his mouth at Monty mentioning the appearance of his favourite pornstars.
“It’s not–”
“Tall, ginger men with chiselled faces and thick beards topping the fuck outta shy brunettes.” Monty bites his lip. Paul shakes. “Anything you’d like to tell me, Sevier? Or shall I just tell you of my conclusion?”
“I…” Paul swallows hard and closes his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About how you made me feel so good when you touched me. And you’re so bad. I shouldn’t want you but I do, fuck, I do, I do–”
“Hush, baby,” Monty whispers, and Paul immediately falls silent. “I’m here now. I’m gonna take good care of you.”
“Yes, yes, please.”
When Monty kisses him this time, Paul knows that he’s truly lost to his desires, he’s walked right into Monty’s corrupt palm and made his bed.
And now, as Monty bites Paul’s lip, all that’s left to do is lie in it.
louiex00 Thu 30 Apr 2020 10:50PM UTC
Last Edited Thu 30 Apr 2020 10:50PM UTC
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solohux Thu 30 Apr 2020 11:51PM UTC
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Equalrightsforcatboys Fri 01 May 2020 01:24PM UTC
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solohux Fri 01 May 2020 01:34PM UTC
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Failed_to_Deanon Fri 01 May 2020 03:58PM UTC
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NailBunny Fri 01 May 2020 05:16PM UTC
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MsModernity Fri 01 May 2020 07:26PM UTC
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awalkinthepark Fri 19 Jun 2020 01:38AM UTC
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