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It had been weeks since he'd first asked and Tad still didn't have health insurance-this was getting ridiculous! How many times would he have to beg Stephen before he finally started getting results?
Well-he had to admit he'd gotten some results. Their 'wrestling' had been much more exciting than usual...but that wouldn't help him if he got a cold!
Speaking of, his nose was starting to feel a bit stuffy. What if he was on the verge of catching pneumonia and dying? Then there would be no more wrestling or buildings for him to manage, and it would be all Stephen's fault.
He had to convince Stephen to change his mind and soon.
Speaking of the devil, Stephen strode by just then, whistling America the Beautiful. He patted Tad on the back in a cordial, casual-boss-like way and said, "Afternoon, Tad." Ignoring anything else, he continued on to his office.
Tad jumped a bit at the sudden touch and looked up. "N-nothing. I wasn't thinking about anything," he squeaked, innocently. If he was going to speak to Stephen about his insurance, it had to be at the right time and place.
He didn't even realize Stephen had said to him 'afternoon' instead of 'what are you thinking about weaseling out of me now?'
Pausing in his steps, Stephen turned around to face his employee.
"Excuse me?" Cue the eyebrow. He was determined to treat things as he usually did; in other words: like he was ruler of the world and everyone else were tiny little specks of insignificant nothings.
Finally it dawned on Tad what he'd said and he shook his head rapidly. "Nothing. Just thinking out loud, is all." He gave a nervous laugh, before taking a deep breath and deciding it was now or never.
"Do you have time to talk?"
Pointedly looking at his watch, Stephen sighed. Then he gazed at the ceiling for a bit. For good measure, he ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his glasses.
"Make it quick," he finally replied, turning on his heel to go to his office. He expected Tad would follow.
And follow, Tad did. He quickly got up from his desk and jogged to keep in stride with Stephen, speaking as he did. "I need to talk about health insurance. I know we've discussed it before, but..." he trailed off, gathering his courage before adding, "But I really need you to give it to me. Right now."
Stephen stopped dead in his tracks again, causing Tad to collide into him. Practically jumping away, Stephen turned his glare on the other man.
"What? You have the audacity to demand things from me in the hallway??" He stepped behind Tad and shoved him forward towards the office. "Get in there!"
Tad hurried into the office, surprised at how angry Stephen was. He knew his boss wouldn't like what he was asking, but it was only fair that Stephen heard him out!
"I think I'm been a pretty good building manager to you. All of your buildings have been...managed to the best of my ability. And I'd like to think of us as friends...wrestling friends at that, but friends don't not give friends health insurance!" he finished dramatically.
He sneezed a few seconds later, which only further illustrated his point.
Stephen slammed the door behind him, his annoyance rising. He began to pace the room, pausing to flick at a dust ball that had gathered on one of the three life size cut-outs of himself.
"You can not disrespect my authority, Tad! Especially not in front of the other employees!" Stephen yelled, ignoring the fact that the hall had been empty.
Tad pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and flopped into one of the chairs facing Stephen's desk. "I'm serious, though."
He glanced up as the desk seemed to loom over him and wondered if Stephen had purposely bought smaller chairs to make visitors feel insignificant. "I think I'm getting sick, Stephen. What am I supposed to do now?"
Tad looked up at Stephen earnestly, "I'll do anything for health insurance."
There was a little twinge of some unwelcome feeling that shot down Stephen's spine at the way Tad said that. He walked around to sit at his desk and tapped at the surface. He opened his mouth to tell Tad he was fired, or to go beg someone for some medicine, but found he couldn't.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, dropping his head to the desk.
Tad looked a little concerned at that. "What? Are-are you alright?" He was the one desperate for health insurance and yet, it was Stephen he was concerned about. It made no sense.
"Goddamnit."
Looking up, Stephen raised an eyebrow again, this time in confusion.
"Of course I'm all right, Tad. I'm me." He resumed his tapping, cursing himself for showing any sign of weakness. "What do you mean, you're getting sick?"
Tad looked up at him, still feeling tiny as he perched on the little chair. "I'm getting sick," he replied. "My nose is stuffy and my throat is scratchy. It might be a cold...but it could just as easily be pneumonia or-or the bird flu!"
And really, what were the odds of catching pneumonia anymore? It had to be the damn bird flu!
Stephen scoffed, happy to be back on normal ground.
"The bird flu is just a lie. I don't think it ever existed. I used to, but then, I used to be a lot of things," he said wisely.
"Don't you have any cough drops?"
Tad just stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. "You're wrong! You have to be...the bird flu does exist. I saw it on the news!" And wasn't Stephen all about the truthiness?
He sneezed again, then looked accusingly at his boss.
"The media is biased, Tad," Stephen said in a way that made it obvious just how clueless he thought the other man was.
Then he rolled his eyes. "Bless you."
"Thank you," Tad replied automatically and then paused, giving Stephen a confused look. "But...aren't we considered 'the media' too? ...We're not biased at all!"
"Of course we aren't, Tad! We are the exception, obviously." Stephen shook his head. Maybe Tad really was sick if he couldn't remember such logic.
"Is the damn health insurance the only thing you can think of to talk to me about?" He snapped, losing his calm for a moment. He would kick himself about that later.
Tad winced slightly when Stephen snapped at him. "I-I'm not sure?" he asked, once again pushing his glasses higher up on his nose. He didn't know what Stephen was trying to get at.
"What else would we talk about?" he asked innocently. "Wrestling?"
Eyes wide, Stephen sat back in his chair as if trying to get as far from Tad as possible. As if the man would jump him at any given moment.
"Why would we talk about that??" he asked somewhat manically. He cleared his throat. "I no longer like wrestling. I have a new hobby." What hobby, he had no idea.
"What hobby?" Tad asked, vindictively, "Tumbling?" He wasn't going to allow himself to get distracted this time by Stephen's unshakable logic or the velvety softness of his lips and of...other areas.
Stephen slammed his fist down on the desktop. "No! Not tumbling!" It felt like a vein in his temple might explode soon. When the hell did Tad's spine come back?
"Fishing! That's what my new hobby is!" He fought the urge to add "So there!" after.
Tad had to bite back a retort-he had his job to think about after all. "Okay. So-so it's fishing. But...where does that leave me in regards to health insurance?"
"Well, I just don't know about that, Tad," Stephen said, tilting his head. "You see, decisions can not be made lightly around here. These things take time, more time than the On Notice board, even." He scowled; he knew he should have put health insurance On Notice when he had the chance.
Tad did not look at all satisfied with that. "Well...how long will it take?" he asked impatiently. "What if I die in the mean time?"
"Well, then, I guess I'll go to your funeral to pay my last respects." That said, Stephen busied his hands with some papers that he guessed were important. The meaning behind it was clear: Tad should leave now.
Uncertainly, Tad stood up. "Well...well...then I'll just have to tell everyone how we wrestle and tumble and..." he eyed Stephen, "Do other not-so-innocent things."
Head jerking up so fast he nearly got whiplash, Stephen stared in horror. He stood as well, leaning forward, braced against the desk.
"You-we-I-you-" Stephen sputtered. Goddamnit, he couldn't even speak! This was unforgivable!
"Are you..." he started, a deadly calm coming over him. "Are you blackmailing me?"
Tad shrugged.
This was the first time he'd ever had the real upper hand with Stephen-he was almost unsure what to do about it.
"Don't think of it as blackmail," he replied, unable to keep the squeak out of his voice on that last work, "Think of it as an agreement of sorts. We can both get what we want." He paused, "Um...if that's okay with you."
Stephen started to panic a little, inwardly.
"No. No! It's not okay with me!" He came around the desk and poked his finger at Tad's chest. "Employees do not do this! I've fired people for less!" The poking continued and he walked forward, forcing Tad to step backwards more and more until he hit the wall.
Tad's words got stuck in his throat as his back hit the wall of Stephen's office. He wasn't sure where his sporadic confidence had come from, but he couldn't back out now. "So...fire me."
His words were punctuated by a small thrust of his hips. He hoped one action would cancel out the other.
Stephen's breath caught. He was so angry, so betrayed, so...aroused. This made him even angrier, of course, and he shoved on Tad's shoulder, harder against the wall.
"Maybe I will!" he said, pressing his hips against the other man's. In an angry way, naturally.
Tad's legs parted slightly, allowing one of Stephen's thighs between them.
"So...so do it," he replied, grounding down against his boss's thigh, unable to remember how this conversation had even gotten started.
"Maybe-" Stephen gasped a little at the hard pressure. "Maybe I don't feel like it right now!" He nudged his leg up a little, adding more friction. God, Tad was suddenly so insufferable; this place would be better without him.
Tad's head dropped to Stephen's shoulder as he shamelessly bucked and rubbed against him. "'Kay," he replied simply, fingers tightening on Stephen's shoulders as the friction caused little trembles to go straight to his cock.
Stephen pushed Tad's head off of his shoulder and against the wall. One hand still on Tad's shoulder, Stephen put the other on the wall right beside his cheek. Tad needed to learn that he could not blackmail people, least of all, Stephen Colbert.
He leaned in closer, watching the expression on Tad's face as he continued to apply pressure to his cock.
Tad whimpered at the pressure. He was pretty much jelly in Stephen's hands now.
"S-Stephen," he gasped, kissing the other man. He was dangerously close already. "Hold on...slow-slow down." This was about to be over before it even really began.
Willing himself not to return the kiss, and noting that it would only be fair to not slow down and therefore force Tad to leave the room in an embarrassing state of his pants, Stephen nevertheless did so anyway.
He broke away fully, in fact, stepping back a little too quickly. He tried to catch his breath, tried to tell Tad he was fired and to clean out his one shelf in the desk all the employees had to share. Instead he leaned against his desk and stared.
Tad whimpered at the loss of contact when Stephen moved away and leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He wasn't even aware his eyes had fallen shut until he opened them again.
Once he was convinced that he could move without coming in his pants, he took a few shaky steps toward the other man.
"Stephen?" he asked timidly. "What's wrong?"
Crossing his arms and trying not to slide off the desk, Stephen said, "Nothing is wrong, Tad. Maybe-maybe you should just stay over there," he added, pointing to the other side of the room. This entire situation had just gone way too far, and Stephen was sick of it.
...Sick of it in a constantly-thinking-about-it, wanting-to-do-it sort of way.
Tad stopped in his tracks, looking confused. "What? Why?"
He couldn't ignore the throbbing between his legs and wondered how Stephen could turn his emotions off so easily. "Does this have to do with the health insurance?" he asked after a moment, "Because-because, this has nothing to do with that."
"Oh, doesn't it? Isn't that why you do anything, to weasel health care out of me?" Stephen snapped, crossing his legs at the ankles to ignore his own arousal. It didn't help, really.
He shook his head again. "Besides, I am not gay!"
Tad would have scoffed at that, had he not been so hurt by Stephen's previous comment. "I'm not a weasel," he protested, shaking his head. "I just want the basic rights that everyone else has!"
Though he had to admit that insurance or not, he was getting quite a few other rights that most peoples' bosses never granted them.
"I just want to...not die from the bird flu. Is that so wrong?" he finished dramatically.
"So this-" Stephen gestured between them, "-is about the health insurance after all! You just lied!"
Stephen would never admit the twinge of hurt he felt at the idea.
"No, it isn't!" Tad insisted. "It...wasn't." He frowned, unsure of how everything had gotten so confused. "You're turning it into that. I'm just-just trying to keep up."
"Keep up with what??" Stephen exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air wildly. What the hell was even going on anymore?
Tad flailed a bit, "I don't know! You-you're turning this around." All Tad wanted was health insurance and to come in his pants while grinding against Stephen's leg.
What was complicated about that?
"I am not!" Stephen retorted childishly. He turned to sit on the opposite edge of the desk, crossing his arms again. He was not pouting, he was not being unreasonable about this, and he was not gay!
"Are too!" Tad retorted just as childishly. "W-why don't we just take things one at a time? We continue...wrestling and then we can talk about my insurance, okay?"
He was trying his best to be a grown up about this, but damn it, Stephen was acting like such a baby! It was so unfair.
"Don't you listen?" Stephen said bitterly, rolling his eyes. "I don't wrestle anymore!" He tapped his fingers against his sides, wondering why the hell he was still turned on.
Tad looked crushed for a moment before shaking his head, "Okay. O-okay. Then let's finish 'fishing'." He didn't care what Stephen called it, he just knew they were still both hard and it was stupid not to do something about it.
Stephen froze. Now Tad was sullying the name of fishing! Did the man have no shame?
He stood again, took a couple steps towards Tad, then thought better of it and stepped back again.
"Why did you come in here, again?" he asked sincerely; he really couldn't remember after all of the back and forth. He was so confused.
All things considered, Tad wasn't really sure why he'd come into Stephen's office. He'd wanted insurance, but he also wanted Stephen just as badly, if not more so.
"You," he replied nervously, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "I-I came for you?" He wasn't sure if that was the right answer or not, but it was the honest one.
That wasn't the answer Stephen had expected. He blinked, then adjusted his glasses, then tapped his finger against his lip. And then for good measure, he cleared his throat.
"Goddamnit," he finally said, and strode forward to shove Tad against the wall again.
Tad gave a surprised little squeak, arms wrapping around Stephen when he was pushed against the wall. He thrust against his boss again, wanting to say something, but figuring it wasn't a good time to speak.
Stephen was so moody, Tad wasn't sure what would set him off again.
Stephen didn't say anything either, his face inches from Tad but not letting the other man kiss him. He also moved his lower body back a step so that their hips were no longer connected. He ran a hand down the center of Tad's chest, quickly undoing the buttons on his shirt as he went. Stephen could probably win world records for fasted one-handed unbuttonings.
Tad closed his eyes and shivered in anticipation, taking a step closer to Stephen. His hands settled on Stephen's hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles into the skin as he waited for the other man to do something.
Stephen did something, all right. He took hold of Tad's hands and removed them from his hips, then pinned them against the wall above Tad's head. One hand on the man's wrists, Stephen worked on both their belts with the other, one after the other tossed into a corner.
"S-Stephen!" Tad squeaked when his hands were pinned. He couldn't remember ever being this turned on before.
After Stephen pulled their belts off, Tad hooked a leg around the back of Stephen's, trying to pull their hips closer together, craving the friction.
Stephen didn't allow any of it. Stopping what he was doing with Tad's zipper, he reached back and pushed Tad's leg off.
"No," he said firmly, continuing with zippers and buttons.
Tad gave a small whine of confusion, standing there uselessly when Stephen pushed his leg away. "Why-why not?"
Had he done something wrong?
"Because."
Stephen finally released Tad's wrists so he could easily yank down the other man's pants and boxers. Ignoring Tad's obvious erection, Stephen did the same with his own clothing.
"Okay. What do you want, Tad?" he said, rather breathlessly. He stood away from his employee, no touching between them. This was Tad's last chance. If he mentioned the damn health insurance, Stephen would kick him out of the office while he was still naked.
Tad just stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, wondering where all the friction had gone, before he realized he was being spoken to and had to actually make a decision.
"I...don't know?" he asked, knowing the wrong answer would more than likely leave him cold and naked and possibly without a job. "I-I want whatever you want...I want you."
He looked up at Stephen shyly before adding quickly, "And I really want to come." His voice squeaked a bit on the word 'come'.
Stephen's cock twitched at that, which would have been horribly embarrassing in other circumstances. But right now he was determined to distract Tad from other issues Stephen didn't want to give in to, so he simply gave a ragged sigh and walked to his desk again.
He grabbed something from a secret drawer that would send off shocks to any fingerprints that were not his, and said, "Come here for a second."
Too surprised by his own admission to do anything else, Tad just followed Stephen to his desk silently, wondering what his boss was going to do to him now.
Stephen tapped his foot impatiently, unaware of how ridiculous he looked doing so while naked. When Tad reached him, he turned him around to face the desk and put a hand on his back, forcing him to bend at the waist.
"Stay."
Tad nodded, leaning against the desk on his elbows, unable to stop himself from squirming a little, wiggling his ass in Stephen's direction.
"Wha-what are-are we going to wrestle again?" he squeaked, wondering why he wasn't getting any more feedback from Stephen than just to bend over and stay.
"For god's sake, Tad, shut up with the wrestling!" Stephen said with annoyance, stepping behind the other man. He trailed his hand down Tad's back and around to the sharp hipbone, tugging him back even more. "Want this?"
What else was he supposed to say? Tad thought 'wrestling' was the metaphor they were supposed to use!
He allowed himself to be pulled back even more, exhaling softly at Stephen's words.
"Y-yes. I do," he assured his boss with a quick nod. "Please, Stephen?"
Stephen closed his eyes, exhaling deeply, trying to remain calm. He still held the lube he retrieved from his desk in his other hand, and applied it to his cock, breath catching again. Quickly, he positioned his cock, hating himself a little bit that this suddenly came so easy to him.
"It's not gay if you're the top..." He was sure he only thought it, but apparently he did not. It didn't matter anyway, though, because he was soon halfway inside already, one hand going to Tad's cock to try to distract from any pain.
Tad sighed, about to reply that it wasn't gay at all, because they weren't gay, but the words died in his throat when he felt Stephen's cock slowly push into him.
His inhaled in surprise and his grip on the desk tightened slightly as he gave a whimper that was more from pleasure than pain-especially when Stephen's hand went to his cock.
It wasn't gay, really, they were just two buddies who got together and talked about the weather and sports (mostly about their mutual hatred for both) and-and occasionally released some excess energy by fucking each other in the ass.
Not gay. Not gay at all.
Stephen would point out that there was no fucking of his ass, as he was so much less gay than Tad obviously was, but luckily, Tad's thoughts were not voiced.
What was voiced, however, were Stephen's little moans at the vice-like grip on his cock, an almost burning heat that only made him thrust harder until he was completely in.
"Jesus Christ," he blasphemed, and reminded himself to go to church early for extra guilt. Then he forgot all about it and concentrated on the movement of his hips and matching it with his hand on Tad's cock.
Tad swallowed back a whimper, thrusting into Stephen's hand, trying to match the rhythm in which Stephen was fucking him.
"God, Stephen," he gasped with a breathy little sigh, wondering how much longer either of them would last.
Even if he didn't get health insurance from this, it was still making him feel a hell of a lot better.
Every time Stephen heard his name uttered that way, it turned him on even more. He picked up speed, but slowed his hand down to a maddeningly slow pace. Sliding his other hand up Tad's back and over the shoulder to hug around his chest, Stephen pulled him up, back meeting chest.
"Said you-wanted-to come-" he gasped between thrusts. "-do it-"
Tad's head jerked up in surprise, hips bucking desperately, trying to gain more friction from Stephen's hand. "What? I-I can't. You're going too s-slow," he gasped, trying to stay coherent enough to actually form a sentence.
Stephen would have rolled his eyes, had he not been so desperately trying to hold on to his sanity.
"Come on, Tad!" he almost yelled, palm brushing the head of Tad's cock. "What kind of employee-can't follow-a simple-direction?" His hips snapped in an uneven rhythm.
Tad continued to buck against Stephen, gasping, "Yeah, well it's-it's not fair. I can't-fuck."
With one final cry, Tad came with a shudder against Stephen, spilling hot over his fingers.
Stephen grinned against Tad's neck, then wrinkled his nose a little at the feeling on his hand. Any unease at that quickly left with a last deep thrust, and he bit the juncture of damp skin where Tad's shoulder met neck as he came.
Leaning against the other man until he felt he could move again, Stephen panted, "Good job."
Tad would have liked to ask if it was a good enough job to warrant health insurance, but he couldn't think of the words right now. He was busy just trying to remain standing after all that.
Finally, Stephen pulled away, pushing lightly on Tad's back to let him lean his weight on Stephen's desk. He walked to gather his clothing and wipe his hand, then stared at a drawing of himself on the wall. Why the hell did this keep happening?
Once dressed again, he turned to face Tad, cheerful and professional once again.
"So, staff meeting in an hour, see you there?" Well, he wouldn't, since Stephen never went to those.
"Uh..." Tad said dumbly, pulling his pants up again. "S-sure. I'll see you then."
It took him a few seconds to adjust to Stephen's changing moods and actually process the words he was speaking. "I guess so." He doubted Stephen would even go to the staff meeting. He never seemed to unless he was there to yell at his employees or ask about the progress of finding Stephen Junior.
He paused, straightening his tie. "So...no health insurance, then?" He was almost getting used to this routine.
Overly cheery grin still in place, Stephen said, "Not today, Tad." He then turned away and busied himself with polishing a replica of his Emmy.
"Not today."