Another day at the office, but for that one thing. Fingernails furrowing the chair leather, Quatre arched up off the seat. A hand held him in place. He was close, and forced the words from a tongue that didn’t quite work.
His lover’s mouth was suddenly gone, his hand in its place. Tight, stroking, Trowa was watching his cock as Quatre watched him. He came in ropy streams, and Trowa was there, letting it land on his mouth, his chin, his cheek.
"Trowa..." Quatre was smiling, wanting more, wanting to give.
And Trowa licked his lips, wiped the cum from Quatre’s cock. Quatre watched in languid fervor as Trowa used his handkerchief to clean his face. And then Trowa stood.
"You wanted to go over those spreadsheets again?"
It was just another day at the office, but for that one thing...