What Not to Wear – FRIDAY

Doug peered cautiously around the cubicle opening. Beckett’s back was to him; he was busy clearing out his desk. He pulled out a drawer, scooped up the contents, then slammed it shut. His shoulders were tensed. Doug coughed deliberately.

“Later, Doug,” Beckett said without looking around.

Doug ignored him and stepped inside. “You guessed it was me?”

“Yeah.” Beckett turned with a rueful smile. “You should stop borrowing my cologne.”

Doug grinned. The guy looked calm, at least. His eyes flickered to the large box on Beckett’s desk. “The rumour’s true, then. Big guys came and saw you this morning and let you go.”

“Reluctantly.”

“Goes without saying.” Doug nodded.

“They’re willing to keep the issues within the company and provide a reference, but they can’t allow things to continue like this. They managed to imply Gross Misconduct without ever actually voicing the words. Apparently, it wasn’t just the industrial sabotaging of the papers for the Board meeting.” Beckett held himself very still and his words were clipped. “Nor the senseless vandalism of the kitchen equipment. But added to the earlier, indecent behaviour in the elevator and the unprovoked profanity toward the Sales Director…” He cleared his throat. “I paraphrase the notes from the disciplinary meeting, you understand.”

“I understand.” Doug sighed. And he did, all too well. “It’s their loss, of course. But it’s a bloody sorry state of affairs.”

Beckett picked up the box of belongings, hugging it to his chest. “Sure. You’ll have to sort out your own lift to work in the mornings now.”

Doug kept staring at him. “You think that’s all that matters to me?”

Beckett flushed. “No, of course not.” For a few seconds, they held each other’s gaze. Beckett only looked away when the box shifted in his arms, distracting him.

Doug leaned forward to help him catch it again, his hand brushing Beckett’s. He felt a rush of pleasure and happiness at the touch when, damn it, he supposed he should be sympathising with Beckett’s ghastly employment situation. Or unemployment situation.

Beckett took a deep breath. “We won’t be able to take lunch together quite so often, either.”

Doug wondered if he’d really heard that hint of mischief in Beckett’s voice – that sly provocation. Not for the first time, he also wondered exactly who was the outrageous one in this relationship. Call him on it, why don’t you? He made sure he caught Beckett’s gaze, and he stretched, slowly and lazily. His jacket hitched up on his shoulders; his casual trousers sunk a little farther down on his hips. “Um. Not so sure about that. I’m moving on myself, you see.”

Beckett’s eyes followed the movements of Doug’s body. “You didn’t say.”

“No. I didn’t.” Doug had only decided that morning.

“Because of all this?”

Doug moved toward him, blocking the view to the corridor outside. He took the box out of Beckett’s grasp and put it back down on the desk beside them. He placed one hand on his lover’s chest and pushed him gently back against the table edge. Underneath his splayed fingers, he could feel the quickening heartbeat. “Well, maybe. Let’s face it, I’ll be bored here without you.” He thought about hot and fast masturbation in the lift; going down on Beckett in the staff restaurant; the pair of them taking risks in the Boardroom that had absolutely nothing to do with corporate strategy. And that was only this week.

When he glanced at Beckett, his lover was smiling, too. “With you,” Beckett said, “I have never been bored.”

Doug felt a burst of something rather delicious in his chest, as if his heart had clenched, laughed aloud, and then relaxed again. He wondered if he’d been particularly angelic in a previous lifetime to have deserved a guy like Beckett in this one. The man standing in front of him had been hauled over the corporate carpet and told to collect his belongings and go… yet still grinned at Doug as if none of it could be considered Doug’s fault. Well, maybe only some of it.

“Ditto.” Doug smiled back. “It’s always good. Very good.” He dipped his head and licked at his lover’s neck.

Beckett sucked in a needy breath but didn’t move away. “I’ve already got another job lined up, to tell you the truth.”

“Headhunted?”

Beckett nodded. His cheeks were very flushed and he arched his neck, giving Doug better access. “Better money. More challenging opportunities.”

Doug leaned in farther, and he slipped one hand between Beckett’s thighs. With his other hand, he pushed the gold-lettered desk diary to the far side of the desk. “So, let’s take this opportunity to hunt other parts of your willing body, Mr. Beckett Stone.”

“Willing?” Beckett’s voice was hoarse.

Doug nodded. He licked his middle fingers slowly until they were wet and glistening, sliding them in and out between his lips, while Beckett watched every move with hot, glittering eyes. Then he slipped his hand around the back of Beckett’s waist and dived down into his trousers. Beckett made a strangled sound, but not of protest. Doug nudged his long, damp, middle finger between the tightly muscled buttocks. Beckett’s head went back and he gasped. Doug was even more delighted when he nudged farther and Beckett’s legs spread instinctively, wide and wanton.

“Like I said.” Doug grinned. He started to unbutton his jacket, while Beckett still stared at him. Doug would have described his lover’s expression as the kind expected from a deer caught in headlights. Doug dropped his jacket on the chair and glanced down at his T-shirt.

He loves the cock.

Beckett had seen it as well, of course. “You wore that to work?”

Doug started unzipping them both, pushing impatiently at the fabric of their trousers. “You’re denying it?”

Beckett gasped as Doug pushed warm hands down inside his briefs. “Goes without saying,” he mimicked back. “I’ve got the second interview soon, Doug. The job’s not been finally confirmed yet.”

“Plenty of time. Get on the desk.”

Beckett obeyed very swiftly, very obediently. He hitched himself up to sit on the desk top, his feet off the floor. Doug wriggled forward between Beckett’s spread thighs. His fingers still probed greedily down the cleft of Beckett’s arse, but with his free hand he started to rummage in the box of belongings beside Beckett. Out came stationery items, technical manuals, a spare keyboard, lube –

“Lube?” Doug chuckled. With confidence borne of regular practice, he unscrewed the top with one hand and squeezed out some gel.

“I found it in the car,” Beckett protested, though it sounded pretty half-hearted to Doug. “I was taking it home.” His cock was exposed, rearing out from the white cloth of his briefs. The tip shone a purplish-red and was demanding attention. “Wait a minute. We haven’t moved the filing cabinet over the opening.”

Doug ignored him again, which he knew Beckett would probably expect. “You know how we’ve always christened a new place, a new home…?”

“… a new cubicle?” Beckett moaned. “It’s not like I’m keeping count.”

“Yeah. Like I believe that.” Doug pushed down his own boxers and released his dick. His palm was sticky with the lube, and for an indulgent moment, he ran it up and down his erection, nudging his balls with the movement of his wrist. “Well, let’s celebrate your leaving, instead.”

Beckett was watching Doug’s hand, his pupils dilated. He nuzzled up against Doug, licking Doug’s earlobe, pressing a hard kiss against his jaw. Doug had to take a quick, extra breath to keep steady. He felt Beckett’s cock rubbing on his belly, hot flesh against hotter, almost as familiar as his own and certainly more exciting. When Doug wrapped his hand around the two dicks, Beckett curled a hand around on top of that. Together, they started to pump themselves; bodies pressed together from belly to shoulder, arching up with each upward stroke, then relaxing back down to caress their balls. Doug’s whole body ached with anticipation. He gazed at the two swollen crowns glistening inside the double fist, pre-come leaking, flesh throbbing.

The sudden noise from the telephone was shrill, the cradle rocking on the table as they thrust alongside each other. Beckett reached out to answer it.

“Leave it!” groaned Doug. So fucking close.

“Can’t.” Beckett swallowed a moan of his own. His cock jerked against Doug’s, throbbing harder now, their hands full of engorged flesh. There was heavy sweat on his brow. “That second interview? It’s by telephone.”

Doug gaped. He couldn’t have stopped his climax now if the Chairman himself had appeared ectoplasmically from out of the mouthpiece.

“Yes… some details. Sure.” Beckett’s eyes were closed, his knuckles white as he clamped the phone to his ear. “No, you’re right, now is as good a time as any… yes, I’ve had several years experience in that area…”

Doug gasped, pressing his head against Beckett’s shoulder, trying to muffle his habitual cursing as he came. His dick spat its seed out over their hands, and his hips ground against Beckett’s. Warm come started to trickle out from his fist and down his arm.

Crushed against him, Beckett rolled his eyes as if in surrender. Doug felt the vibration as Beckett shuddered, also climaxing, and just as fiercely, come bursting out over their entwined fingers.

His head still spinning, Doug could hear the questioning sounds at the other end of the line. Beckett answered quickly, his voice hoarse. “Yes? No, it’s… I’m fine. I’m just excited at the challenge. I’ll be good to start Monday.” Doug held him close, unwinding their sticky fingers from around softening cocks. “No, thank you!” Beckett stared up at Doug with barely focused eyes and mouthed the words again, directly to him.

Doug started to chuckle, pressing his damp lips against the racing pulse in Beckett’s neck.

“Yes…” Beckett shook his head at Doug and grimaced back at the telephone. “No, call me later, will you? It’s… not easy to talk here, as you can appreciate.” Doug started to trace sticky shapes in his navel, teasing. “Yes, exactly. Confidentiality. Professional ethics… of course. Goodbye.”

Doug lifted his fingers to his mouth. “These professional ethics sure taste good.”

Beckett sighed wearily, reached into the box beside him and dragged out a cloth to wipe the mess off them. Doug stared at it. “Isn’t that another T-shirt of mine?”

Beckett mopped a stray trail of come from along the still impressive length of his cock, then shook out the cloth. The message unfurled.

You must be THIS LONG to ride.

They looked at each other. And laughed.

*

 

Follow the story from the beginning:

MONDAY
“Lunch, did you say?” Doug raised his eyebrows. He grinned broadly and licked his lips. “Like, now?”
Beckett coughed as if he knew Doug wasn’t just referring to a cheese and pickle sandwich…

TUESDAY
Just before Beckett was nudged back up against the side of the elevator car, he caught sight of his lover and colleague’s T-shirt. His gut gave a familiar churn and his mouth dried.

WEDNESDAY
Doug watched Beckett’s fingers under the cloth, probably teasing a nipple. Or both. A bead of sweat ran down the middle of his back. Maybe his guy didn’t need Doug’s personal crusade to lighten up as much as he thought…

THURSDAY
A quick sidestep, an unanticipated grip of the elbow, and he had Doug pressed back onto the Board table. Doug gave a grunt of surprise, and his hand scraped across the varnished surface, seeking purchase…

 

 

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