Work Text:
Greg leans back in his office chair, stretching his arms above his head, fingers interlocked. Several knuckles crack. He rolls his shoulders as he rests his hands on the wrist pad again. His eyes are scanning over the words he’s typed, noting where he needs to go in and tweak things. Without looking away from the screen, he picks up his mug for a sip of tea. It’s empty.
He takes a short inhalation, preparing to shout for Alex to come refill it, and then remembers. Alex is currently…occupied.
Greg’s belly shakes with his silent chuckle at his own forgetfulness. It brushes against Alex’s nose, and he feels Alex move the slightest amount, like he’s not certain what Greg is doing. Reaching under the desk, Greg runs a reassuring hand over his submissive’s hair. Alex settles again with a tiny hum of pleasure, quickly choked off. He knows he’s not supposed to be distracting Greg with any sort of stimulation, even if Greg is giving him attention. He’s just there as a cockwarmer.
You’re doing so well, baby, Greg thinks, closing his eyes to better appreciate the sensation of Alex’s mouth around his soft cock, Alex’s hair against his palm. He only lets himself enjoy for a moment, though, before pulling his hand away and refocusing on his writing, so he won’t get hard and cut their session short.
That had been the problem the first several times they tried this. Alex wanted to simply serve Greg while Greg did something unrelated and completely ignored him. But Greg kept being gradually aroused by the subtle movements of Alex’s tongue and lips, turning it into a blowjob. Or else he wasn’t hard, but was still so preoccupied by Alex that he couldn’t concentrate on whatever else he was meant to be doing.
Finally, they had figured out that a tiny amount of numbing cream applied to Greg’s cock a few minutes before took the edge off enough without also numbing Alex’s mouth. With that, and a bit more practice, Greg had gotten much better at tuning the sensations out. Now, he could let Alex kneel between his legs for over an hour—while Greg watched telly or, like today, wrote jokes—and forget he was even there.
He checks the clock on his computer screen. It’s been almost ninety minutes since Alex crawled under the desk with his floor cushion. Greg’s feeling peckish. Scrolling back to the start of the document, he fixes the worst of the rough spots and makes some notes for his next session. That takes another quarter hour. This is the longest they’ve done this, he’s fairly sure.
Wonder how far down he’s gone?
Unhurriedly, giving Alex time to realize what’s happening, he puts the computer to sleep and tidies his papers. Then he rolls his chair back an inch, just enough that he can see under the desk easily, and gently touches the top of Alex’s head.
“Let go now, love.”
It takes Alex a second to respond. When he draws away, Greg’s cock slides out of his mouth, a string of saliva still connecting the two for an instant before breaking. He leans his cheek on Greg’s inner thigh with a soft whimper. His eyes are closed, lips working at nothing. Greg slips two fingers through them, and Alex makes another, more satisfied, noise. A replacement helps him transition.
“Good boy. You did so well. Shift off your knees for me. I’m going to have you crawl out once you’re legs aren’t asleep anymore, alright?”
He’s been thinking of buying Alex a little kneeling bench—the kind Greg’s seen used for meditation in the yoga videos he sometimes does on YouTube—to help with the numbness. It might be too high for under Greg’s desk, though. Alex is, as he likes to remind Greg, quite a tall man, actually. Maybe if he replaced the desk for a sit-stand one? His doctor would love that; he’s always talking to Greg about how many hours he spends on his arse every day.
Anyway, for now, Alex needs time to let the pins and needles fade. He obediently follows Greg’s order, moving around a bit awkwardly until he’s resting his bum directly on the cushion with his legs curled to one side. His eyes stay closed; Greg’s fingers stay in his mouth. Soon, he’s settled against Greg’s thigh once more.
While he does that, Greg uses his free hand to tuck his cock into his pants and wipes spit off his palm onto his jeans. He doesn’t zip up his fly.
They remain there for a few minutes, Greg watching Alex for signs that he’s closer to the surface. The first one that comes, though, isn’t visible. It’s Alex’s tongue actively swirling around Greg’s fingers, like he’s just noticed the bit of flesh in his mouth has changed and wants to explore it. Greg encourages him to suck by pushing deeper and pulling out an inch, over and over, finger-fucking his mouth. He can almost reach all the way into Alex’s throat.
“That feels amazing, love. I can tell the desensitization you’ve been doing is working; your gag reflex is much weaker than it used to be,” he says. “Now, let me see those baby blues.”
Alex shakes his head fractionally.
Eyebrows raised in frank disbelief, Greg asks, “Did you…just say ‘no’ to me, my boy?”
Another shake of his head, with what can only be described as an indignant grunt.
“Okay, you didn’t say ‘no’,” Greg concedes. “But it is what you meant, right?” He’s slightly worried. Alex has never refused a direct order like that, especially not this far down. “You don’t want to open your eyes?”
“Mmph,” says Alex around Greg’s fingers, nuzzling his cheek against Greg’s leg.
“You want to stay there, hm?”
He nods.
The worry fades. Alex isn’t distressed; he’s being uncharacteristically stubborn. Greg takes a moment to think how to respond. He’s about ninety-seven-percent certain that Alex doesn’t really intend to disobey, like a brat might. Alex simply knows as well as Greg does that being able to see will bring him further out of the happy little bubble he’s currently in.
“Alex,” Greg says, firming his voice a bit and deliberately dropping the pet names in order to catch his attention, “you don’t have to come all the way back, but I’m headed to the kitchen, and you’ll go arse over tit on the stairs if you have your eyes closed. I’m your Master, and I’m telling you to open them. Now.”
Alex flutters his lashes a couple of times, then blinks them apart. Spots of pink appear on his cheeks. Apparently, his brain has caught up to what he’s just done. The look he gives Greg is very timid.
“There’s my sweet boy,” Greg says, gentle once more, knowing he’s made his point. Slowly, he drags his fingers free of Alex’s mouth and says, “If your legs are awake, I want you to come out.”
A moment later, he’s got Alex trying to crawl into his lap.
Greg laughs, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the silly man’s torso before he can get very far. “This chair is not going to hold us both, baby,” he says, into the collar of Alex’s fleece.
And Alex mewls in distress and struggles to get closer.
“Hey, hey,” says Greg, suddenly realizing why. “You’re alright, I’m not cross with you. You’re my good boy. Relax. Relax.” He rubs his hand in circles over Alex’s back, slightly alarmed by the choked noises he’s making.
Through them, Alex manages to croak, “S-sorry.”
“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t try to talk right now. Good boy. So good.”
For a few minutes, he simply repeats variations on ‘good boy’ and holds Alex as well as he can while sitting in a wheeled office chair. His heart twists tighter and tighter in his chest.
Okay, don’t ever give Alex a telling-off, no matter how mild, when he’s deep in subspace. Got it. Learned my lesson. I swear.
Eventually, when he thinks Alex is calm enough to take the words in, he says, “I know you weren’t meaning to be disobedient, love. You just forgot yourself a little, hm?”
Alex nods against him.
“Yeah. And I didn’t intend to sound as harsh as I probably did to you. You’re not in trouble, okay? I love you.”
At that, Alex finally relaxes fully. Greg’s heart starts to untwist.
They do head to the kitchen in the end, with Alex’s hand in Greg’s the whole way down the stairs. Greg doesn’t let go even as he makes a cheese and pickle sandwich. It takes twice the time, but he couldn’t care less.
He eats half of it himself and feeds the other half to Alex, both of them standing since Alex has recently been kneeling for so long, and when it’s all finished, he leads Alex into the living room, sits on the sofa, and, putting his feet up on the coffee table, encourages Alex lay down and use his thigh for a pillow.
“There’s some programmes I wanted to watch,” Greg tells him, stroking his head. “Would you like to be my good little cockwarmer again?”
Alex nods and eagerly flips onto his stomach, reaching for Greg’s pants as Greg turns the television on.
In this position, Alex can stay down for as long as he likes. They’ll have to discuss what happened and Alex’s reaction to it when he comes back up. And do a ton of aftercare. Now, though, Greg just wants Alex to be happy again.