Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Thoma stood in front of the office building. He felt excited, a little nervous, but he was ready to work hard today. It was the first day of his new job with Kamisato Weddings. It was also the only work interview he managed to clear despite sending in over a hundred applications to all sorts of places.

Thoma considered himself lucky at least to have landed a job.

Or any kind of job.

But he was not too lucky today.

Last night, he overslept because he had to finish up the last night of his part-time work at his neighborhood convenience store.

And because he was so tired, he came home and fell asleep right before doing the laundry.

Thus, he had nothing to wear except a shirt given to him last year when he moved to the city. The style was a bit old, and the shirt was too tight.

He managed to button it up, but it made his chest stand out just slightly too much.

Thoma sighed in front of his washroom mirror.

Nevertheless, Thoma promised he would work very hard today and make a good impression on his new boss.

Kamisato Weddings was located in the Kamisato Towers, somewhere in the center of Inazuma City. Thoma walked fast, jostled by people on the side. The shouts of food vendors, workers hurrying to work, the blaring honks and wails of traffic behind him made him feel as if he was quite alive.

There was not a single regret in him, moving from the countryside to this city. He was starry-eyed, and he grinned like an idiot as he stepped into the office building.

Kamisato Towers looked extremely modern - shimmering sapphire glass and gleaming aluminum. The structure circled impressively towards the sky, twin spires of shining cerulean piercing upwards, almost to the clouds.

Surrounded by pruned trees and a modern Zen garden, the whole place belonged to the distinguished Kamisato family.

Thoma side-stepped a few hurrying workers, finding himself at the entrance - the gold-framed doors opening to marbled floors and brushed metal.

Kamisato Weddings was just one of the many subsidiaries held by Kamisato Corporation. And the Kamisato family dominated many of the food, textiles, and art-related industries in Inazuma.

Thoma looked at the fancy, gold-embossed mailer in his hands as he walked towards the bank of elevators, dodging a few security guards and hassled-looking office workers.

He side-eyed a few people, who looked quite accomplished and influential, as he waited together with them for the elevator.

The elevator ride up was uneventful, for everyone only paid attention to their phones and not to Thoma. But gosh, Thoma thought, what a posh elevator.

The poshest elevator he had ever been in.

As the elevator paused on each floor, people got off. None came in.

Eventually, he was the only one left in this particular elevator.

Were those crystal buttons?

He resisted reaching out to touch them. Bright lights shone down from the top of the elevator, bouncing off the mirrors on all four sides. Thoma quickly checked himself, staring at his too-tight shirt and adjusting his pants. He re-tied his ponytail, hoping at least he looked adequately presentable.

Then he frowned.

Pressing his hands against one of the mirrors, he stared not at his face but the middle button of his shirt. There was a tiny thread fraying at the bottom, a thread threatening to loosen.

He would have to borrow a sewing kit once he reported to the office.

Fifty-one floors later, Thoma exited into the vestibule of Kamisato Weddings. Before him was a clear glass wall with waterfalls by the side and the words “Kamisato Weddings” carved in frosted lettering on the glass.

There were no doors, only a stretch of vast office space, lighted natural, bright and verdant. The receptionist was working behind a long white desk, and she looked up, noticing Thoma.

“Ah, you must be the new employee.” She said, flipping her fingers across a tablet, checking him out, and looking at him up and down. “You’re very tall.”

Introducing herself as Koharu, she got Thoma to follow her in.

Kamisato Weddings occupied the entire fifty-one and fifty-two floors. The office space embraced an open concept, and everything was in white, cream, and light blue. Thoma was impressed by the interior design and just how

Koharu introduced everything to be created by one famous person or the other - though he had completely no idea who each person was, apart from one name Miss Ogura Mio.

“Where is Mr. Kamisato?” Thoma inched forward, asking Koharu in a quiet voice. He dared not talk too loud because the entire place was so calm and peaceful. Everyone walked in a way where he could not hear them walking, even the ladies wearing sharp heels.

“Kamisato-sama?” Koharu paused. She was trying to explain the history of the office chairs and desks to Thoma. She turned her wrist and checked her watch. “Ah, Kamisato-sama will be in… in another hour. He’s just exercising on the penthouse floor.”

Thoma nodded.

He was nervous and excited to meet his new boss. After all, he also spent his free time at his part-time work, trying to google all the information he could on Kamisato Ayato.

All that he could find was a lovely face and a bunch of information which every other celebrity and paparazzi site repeated - Kamisato Ayato was a kind and friendly man. A great philanthropist and a famous calligrapher.

A patron of many arts centers and artists, an accomplished kendo kyōshi…

Very, very handsome, and single.

Single. Thoma dwelled on that word a little too much. Maybe he might find a first love in the new place he’s going to.

He definitely liked his boss’ face. That he admitted shamelessly to himself. Kamisato Ayato’s face was just his type. If only he could get someone who looked as good as his boss.

That was just wishful thinking on his end.

Thoma had always been a romantic about such things. After all, his mother used to say Thoma had no hobbies except daydreaming.

His thoughts drifted just like the clouds outside along the horizon. Thoma wondered if Ayato looked the same in person as he did in the photographs.

“Thoma-san? Thoma-san?” Koharu called him, and Koharu eventually resorted to stabbing his shoulder with two fingers. “Your seat is here.”

She said impatiently, tapping the white leather chair next to her. Thoma reached out and touched the glass-and-chrome desk before him.

Next, Thoma sat down, swiveling around in the chair, marveling at the comfort.

Everything was clean, neat, organized, and made according to the color scheme, even down to the white pencils and the light blue papers of the sticky notepad. Thoma especially liked it when things looked neat and in order.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Koharu said abruptly as if she could read his mind. Her brown eyes narrowed at Thoma, “Kamisato-sama likes people who work hard. Make sure you do that.”

“I will,” Thoma promised eagerly. He stood up at once, trying to make sure his shirt was neat, and he did not rumple it.

Hopefully, he asked next :

“Will you be introducing me to Mr. Kamisato?”

Koharu rolled her eyes. This newbie, why was he so eager? Mr. Kamisato this, Mr. Kamisato that. The receptionist folded her arms across her chest and sighed.

“He will come and talk to you, don’t worry. Kamisato-sama is very friendly to all his employees.”

Koharu patted Thoma on his shoulder. She frowned again and patted his arm as if she was checking out something. Then she shook her head and directed him to another area in the office separated by glass panels.

An elderly lady was inside, working with some materials. She was surrounded by white mannequins dressed in wedding gowns.

“Anyway, the next person you should see is Madam Furuta. She will be your supervisor, and she will give you some work.”

Thoma found himself in the company of Madam Furuta for the next two hours. She was delightful and quite fashionable, despite being the oldest employee in the company.

Her industry knowledge was astounding, and within thirty minutes, Thoma was instructed on his job scope and what he needed to do. He would start with something simple, working on promotional wedding menus and recommending hotels to potential clients. If he did these well,

Madam Furuta explained that Thoma would be moved to be a coordinator for lunch weddings in a few months. She reminded him that Kamisato Ayato valued hard work and diligence, and if Thoma worked hard, he would definitely be rewarded. Plus, Madam Furuta said that Thoma’s face was very handsome and with lucky features.

Those features will bring him good fortune.

Madam Furuta sure had a way with her words. Though Thoma noticed at certain times while she was speaking to him, a sadness came over the older woman’s face.

He asked at once if the madam was feeling tired. She told him likely it was, for she was up working late over a new proposal for the company.

For the whole morning, Thoma worked hard, arranging menus and reading up hotel reviews. After a while, Thoma remembered the loose button on his shirt and was relieved.

It was still there, though hanging by a thread.

But anyway, executive life is starting to look very sweet for Thoma.

It was nearly lunchtime when Koharu came up to his desk and placed a cup of iced chocolate on his table. It was from the pantry, Koharu said.

There was an in-house chef as well who made dishes to order. And if Thoma was hungry, he could just go there and have whatever he liked.

That was very fancy, Thoma thought.

He wondered if it must be his lucky features that landed him this job in Kamisato Weddings. Everything was too good to be true. But before he could go for that lunch, Koharu’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder.

“Kamisato-sama is here.” Koharu gasped, digging her thumb into Thoma’s shoulder blade.

The man he had been waiting for!

Thoma stood up at once. He quickly brushed his pants and his shirt. Koharu tapped his elbow, hissing under her breath for Thoma to stand straight as Kamisato Ayato approached.

The man himself was as handsome as that he saw in the pictures online, Thoma thought. Bright, sharp eyes, neatly styled soft, silk-like hair, plush lips, and a tiny tear mole nestled on the side of his plush lips.

Kamisato Ayato was tall, almost as tall as Thoma was.

And he was very well-built, obviously from how his bespoke clothing layered on his body.

And he was standing right in front of Thoma. Koharu whispered something about taking her to leave, and she left. Thoma heard nothing of it.

Ayato’s impressive beauty left Thoma speechless.

“You must be Mr. Thoma.” He said, looking at Thoma with ease. There was an amiable smile on Kamisato Ayato’s face, a smile that reached into the man’s eyes. “You looked a little better than that photograph you sent in.”

Thoma gulped, wondering which photograph he had sent in for recruitment. He had sent over a hundred letters, so now he could not remember which exactly was the photograph he used for Kamisato Weddings.

“Yes, Sir, you can just call me Thoma.” He said, cheeks reddening in embarrassment about his recruitment photograph, and he tried to bow hastily.

And at that very moment, Thoma heard a sudden snap of fabric stretching, and his too-tight shirt burst.

The offending middle button flew out!

And he watched the shiny white button fly in all too-slow motion to smack his boss’ cheekbone.

Not just the cheekbone. The button hit squarely on Kamisato Ayato’s lip mole before falling and bouncing like a guilty criminal on the carpeted floor.

“Fuck!” Thoma swore in a tiny voice in his mind.

Kamisato Ayato stared at him. His hand lifted to touch the spot on his face where the button hit him.

Thoma’s heart was nearly leaping out of his chest. Unconsciously he stared back. He stared back because Kamisato Ayato was too handsome, even with his stunned expression.

Ayato’s lips pursed into a round ‘O’.

Even in a panic, Thoma suddenly thought his boss’s lips might feel if he kissed them. And suddenly, Thoma realized he was staring.

He looked around, trying to look for help. Everyone seemed to be busy all of a sudden.

Where was the damned button?

Thoma stared at the carpeted floor.

The carpet was white.

The button was white.

He can’t see a thing.

Then he realized his shirt was hanging wide open. With a muttered apology, Thoma pulled his shirt tight with one hand while trying to scan the floor for that unlucky button.

Ayato did not say a thing. Quietly, he bent down, fingers plucking at the carpet in one go, picking up the button. But instead of giving it to Thoma, he slid the button into his pocket.

“See me in my office later, Mr. Thoma.” He said, turning away in the direction of his office.

Thoma gulped.

Cold sweat plastered his forehead. Was he going to lose his job? He stared around, trying to look for help or emotional support before he sent himself into the boss’s office. His eyes landed on Koharu’s receptionist desk a distance away at the office entrance.

She was staring back, a wide grin on her face. Then, her hand lifted into a thumbs-up sign at his chest before making a slashing motion with her fingers across her neck at Thoma.

~Kamisato Ayato’s Office~

Thoma followed Kamisato Ayato across the strip of the hallway, his eyes trailing the broad back of his boss, and not even at once at the splendid backdrop of sky and skyscrapers of Inazuma City on either side of the glass-paneled hallway.

The office sat at the end of the hallway - a square of glass and brushed aluminum, tastefully furnished with furniture for design and space. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city of Inazuma on three sides. There were two distinct seating areas with a small bar built at the end.

Once they were inside, Kamisato Ayato closed the door.

“Sit down, Mr. Thoma.” His boss said, placing a hand on one of the two chrome and leather chairs before his desk.

A thoughtful look was on Ayato’s face as Thoma sat down, the former noticing Thoma was still grasping the two loose ends of that shirt tight, trying to be modest.

Ayato took the button out of his pocket, placing it on the desk before Thoma, and he picked through a drawer, taking out a silver case. The case was placed next to the button.

“Sir, I can explain.” Thoma started, looking up at Ayato’s face. The man only smiled.

“Take off your shirt, Mr. Thoma.”

Thoma blinked. Did he hear that correctly? Did his boss just ask him to take off his shirt? In the boss’s office, on the first day of work? Was Kamisato Ayato a mind-reader?

“Your shirt, Mr. Thoma,” Ayato repeated patiently. He had picked up the silver case and popped it open. It was a sewing kit.

A very luxurious sewing kit.

Ayato took out a needle and threaded a fine thread through it. He held out his hand for Thoma’s shirt.

“Sir, I can do this on my own!” Thoma stood up, looking confused. Was his boss going to sew the button back on his shirt?

This was ridiculous, Thoma thought, but deep down in his heart, he was rather touched by this tiny gesture.

Ayato clicked his tongue against his teeth and held his hand out for Thoma’s shirt.

“Your shirt, Mr. Thoma,” Ayato said once more. And this time, he did sound as if he was not going to repeat himself.

Thoma stripped his shirt off and handed the garment to his boss reluctantly. He sat back down, looking immensely bothered.

Ayato leaned against the desk and placed the needle between his lips. Holding up the shirt, Ayato checked where he had to sew the button back on.

And all this while, Thoma watched in trepidation, many thoughts in his mind.

Did he sweat earlier? He was sure he did. He chided himself for not using the new cologne he got free for Christmas last year from his college friends. He was sure his shirt stank.

Thoma's head drooped as more pessimistic thoughts crowded his mind. Despite sitting half-naked on the chair, in full blast of the air-conditioning, he did not feel cold at all.

Out of his eye, he watched his boss sew the button on his shirt.

Kamisato Ayato was very focused.

The silver of his tie and the brilliant whiteness of his designer shirt emphasized the beautiful planes of Ayato’s face and the subtle color of his eyes. Thoma found his gaze riveted to his boss as he watched the needle fly in and out of the shirt. Thoma, too felt his heart beating so hard it was almost leaping in and out of his chest.

Awareness of his boss prickled across Thoma’s skin when Ayato finished his sewing, and he came close, holding the shirt to Thoma.

Ayato had that thoughtful, bemused look on his face again.

“Isn’t this shirt too small for you, Mr. Thoma?” His boss said, holding up the shirt at length, and he looked even more closely at Thoma’s chest.

A gentle hmm released from Ayato’s lips, and then he said with a wide smile as if he had discovered treasure.

“I think you should be the same size as me. Wait here; I have a new shirt somewhere.”

Thoma shifted restlessly on his feet. A new shirt? Was his boss going to give him a shirt? From his closet? Kamisato Ayato’s shirt?

The young master of the distinguished Kamisato Family sewn a button on his shirt and was now giving him a new shirt.

Thoma’s breathing became a little ragged as he watched Ayato vanish into an attached room.

His boss returned with a crisp white shirt that looked far more comfortable than Thoma had initially worn.

Ayato placed Thoma’s old shirt into a white bag printed in sea-blue letters - “Kamisato Weddings - Where Fairytales Come True”.

Ayato held out the shirt to Thoma, his eyes crinkling up as he smiled.

It was as if Ayato’s very aura exuded a silent demand that Thoma was instinctively attuned to accepting.

He couldn’t say anything to deny or reject the offer.

“Did you enjoy your first day, though, Mr. Thoma?” He asked very politely.

The question startled Thoma, and he paused as he reached out to take the shirt from his boss. Ayato’s voice resonated smoothly, flowing over Thoma in a seductive rhythm.

“Yes, Sir. It was good.” Thoma answered as calmly as he could even though he was sure his face was red, and his ears were also very red.

He took the shirt from Ayato’s hands, suddenly realizing how cold the room was and that his nipples had embarrassingly peaked due to the chill.

He felt Ayato’s gaze slide over his profile, but Thoma kept his attention focused as he tried to wear the shirt. The material felt expensive in his hands, and he checked to see if there was a label.

There was no label.

Only the designer’s signature was sewn in silver thread on a hem folded inside.

Thoma was sure that ten years of his starting salary was not enough to buy even the sleeve of this shirt he was putting on. He slid the shirt on, marveling how light and comfortable the material was on his skin.

Ayato let out another one of his gentle hmms.

The sound was highly erotic to Thoma for only reasons he knew.

“Mr. Thoma.”

Thoma looked up, Ayato’s gaze locking immediately with his.

“I have a personal question.” His boss said as he leaned back against his desk. His finger tapped on his lower lip slowly.

“Yes, Sir, what do you need to ask me?” Thoma replied at once though he was sure that Kamisato Ayato likely knew everything about him.

Ayato leaned forward, placing his hands on the arms of Thoma’s chair, and he smiled.

A wide smile, like a tempting devil.

“Are you a virgin, Mr. Thoma?”

Thoma managed a confused smile at Ayato, having no idea what that question meant. His heart was racing in his chest, and his stomach quivered madly.

His mind was completely chaotic.

“Virgin? Why do you need to know, Sir?” Thoma said, his brain sort of fried for a minute, forgetting to button his shirt.

Ayato’s closeness made him throb, and his boss’s hands brushed against his hands accidentally. Thoma could not concentrate on whatever Ayato was saying next.

All he could smell was divine gorgeousness, and he fantasized suddenly how his sexy boss would look squirming beneath him, how he would press his boss against the floor and kiss those plush lips.

He wondered how Ayato sounded like if he moaned.

“...need a person who has no prior or regular sexual experiences yet to market a new product I want to present in a niche market.” Ayato finished.

Thoma blinked again.

When did his boss come so close? Ayato was so close that their lips almost met.

“Did you hear what I just said, Mr. Thoma?”

The intensity of Kamisato Ayato’s gaze on him was very stressful.

It felt as if his boss’s entire focus was on Thoma and Thoma only.

Startled, Thoma blinked again.

“What did you just say, Sir?” Thoma blurted out and then realized he had been quite impolite.

“Mr. Thoma.” Ayato’s beautiful face was impassive now. Thoma’s fingers curled around the ends of the chair’s armrests. “I asked if you are a virgin.”

Thoma shook his head.

“No, Sir. I’m not a virgin.” He lied. And Thoma sat there for a moment, shirt unbuttoned, stunned by the pace of events.

Ayato’s face was so close. His lips were so close.

Thoma could see a sheen of plushness on Ayato’s lips.

Kamisato Ayato said nothing for a long moment. His eyes flicked upwards, glancing at his office doors, and his gaze returned to watch Thoma’s still dazed expression.

“What are you thinking about, Mr. Thoma?”

“I’m thinking about kissing you, Sir.”

“Mr. Thoma?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Are you thinking about kissing me, Mr. Thoma?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you want to kiss me, Mr. Thoma?”

Ayato asked the question so mildly and casually, and it took a second for Thoma to process precisely how the conversation went. Thoma let out a sharp gasp, inhaling the cold air.

He stared at his boss, who just smiled lightly.

Kamisato Ayato leaned down, pressing his lips on Thoma’s mouth. His thumbs stroked over Thoma’s shoulders, sliding the designer shirt off.

Ayato slid himself on Thoma’s lap, straddling Thoma’s thighs.

Thoma felt Ayato’s firm ass flex on him, and he nearly fainted.

“Sir?” Thoma looked up, his lips wet with saliva and his hands moving to clutch his boss’s lower back to keep Ayato from slipping off. Ayato’s eyes gleamed with odd mischief.

Gone was the gentle smile and mild demeanor. Instead, his boss tapped two fingers on Thoma’s cheek.

“Are you telling me the truth, Mr. Thoma?” Kamisato Ayato said, his eyebrow arching exaggeratingly.

Kamisato Ayato was definitely a mind-reader, Thoma decided at this point. His hands clasped tightly on his boss’s lower back, wanting to slide his fingers down to Ayato’s ass.

“Sir, Kamisato-sama… I…” Words lurched in Thoma’s throat, and he could not get them out. Ayato threw his head back and laughed; the fullness of his laugh washed over Thoma like warm water.

Somehow, that sincere laughter made Ayato seem a little less boss-like, a little more natural.

The chair Thoma sat on creaked suddenly with their combined weight.

“Sir?” Thoma was worried the chair might break. Oh gods, his salary for twenty years likely won’t even be enough to pay even a single arm-rest of this chair.

“The chair will take our weight and more,” Ayato said in amusement. He leaned to one side, his mouth close to Thoma’s face.

His lips brushed behind Thoma’s ear, and his hands rested on the jut of Thoma’s hips.

Kamisato Ayato said. “Let me judge for myself if you lied, Mr. Thoma.” His hands tightened on Thoma’s hips, and he arched forward, “Kiss me again.”

Thoma licked his lips, and his mouth suddenly felt dry. And he leaned up, pushing his mouth onto his boss’s waiting lips.

Now that he was oddly focused on kissing Kamisato Ayato, Thoma realized how soft his boss’s lips were. He loosened his guard, sighing against the kisses.

Ayato’s tongue dipped inside, licking against Thoma’s in leisurely licks. There was just sufficient subtle aggression in that kiss, just enough to seduce Thoma into gripping Ayato’s back tight, to push his boss further in, till his bare chest scrapped against Ayato’s shirt.

The chair creaked warningly as Ayato curved over Thoma, their kisses turning from polite to sloppy. Thoma shoved his hands into his boss’s hair, clenching the strands tight, holding him still as he sucked on Ayato’s tongue.

Ayato groaned, pulling away, breathing hard. He stared downwards at Thoma, who, in turn, was panting hard. Thoma’s lower lip was coated with saliva, his cheeks completely red.

“Mr. Thoma…” Kamisato Ayato leaned close. The same amused smile was on his face, and his cheeks pinked in a rather erotic manner. Thoma watched as Ayato’s hand moved to his shirt buttons, and one by one, he unfettered each button slowly.

“Kamisato-sama?” Thoma inhaled deeply, his hands clutched tight around Ayato’s ass.

Resisting his boss took such an impossible amount of energy, Thoma felt like he would just give up, give in, and say yes to whatever next question Ayato asked.

“Mr. Thoma.” Kamisato Ayato said again, shrugging his shirt off.

Thoma’s eyes trailed over his boss’s defined body, the carded muscles at Ayato’s abdomen and biceps showing years of training with a sword.

His boss was gorgeous.

“Yes, Kamisato-sama, Sir.” Thoma wanted to lean in, press his face against Ayato’s chest and put his mouth onto one of those beautifully shaped nipples.

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

“Yes, Sir,” Thoma replied at once. There was a hint of a smile around Ayato’s lips.

“Of course, you would,” Ayato replied, slightly smug. His legs tightened around Thoma’s thighs, capturing him.

His smile widened like a little erotic invitation.

“Do you like having sex, Mr. Thoma?”

“Yes, Sir,” Thoma replied immediately once again.

Ayato paused, watching Thoma as he held his breath, and he laughed once more.

“Good, Mr. Thoma. You’re having it with me.” Ayato leaned downwards again, back to kissing Thoma, and his hands slid down Thoma’s chest, squeezing the muscles gently, his fingers flicking at Thoma’s nipples.

Suddenly the office felt hot, very hot.

Thoma could hear only the loud slurping sounds of his and Ayato’s tongues lashing together as their kisses became longer, deeper. He did not realize nor hear the clink of his belt being unhooked, his pants slid down his butt, the waistband of his underwear hooked and shifted.

His cock sprung up, caught between his stomach and Ayato’s firm belly.

“Very nice, Mr. Thoma.” His boss broke the kiss to praise Thoma in a whisper.

Then Ayato tilted his mouth against Thoma’s neck, tracing a wild heartbeat throbbing in a vein. Thoma felt as if he was going to melt.

In his hazy brain, he wondered what his boss would do next.

Though he wanted to take charge, somehow, he could not, and then before Thoma could say anything, Ayato’s mouth sealed over his once more, keeping him quiet with another lush wet kiss.

Their tongues slowly licked against each other, and all Thoma could think was how good it might feel if those lips and that tongue did suck him off.

The chair creaked softly again, and Thoma suddenly realized he was leaning very back, almost parallel to the floor. Ayato had stopped kissing him. Fingers pressed on his chest, stroked up to his neck, and tapped under his chin, forcing him to look in Ayato’s direction.

Ayato’s fingers scaled down Thoma’s chest, fingers rolling and tugging at Thoma’s nipples. He leaned down, his mouth surrounding a nipple, washing heat and wetness over it.

His boss let out a sigh of appreciation before kissing Thoma’s other nipple.

“Kamisato-sa…” Thoma moaned before failing to speak altogether, his legs falling apart shamelessly to let his boss stroke and caress.

Ayato’s hands continued to plump Thoma’s chest, a smile hinged on the edge of his lips.

“It’s no wonder your shirt burst,” Ayato remarked softly, giving Thoma’s chest a light slap before his hands ran down Thoma’s ribs, stroking the fan of muscles down to the man’s heaving waist.

“But, you do have a very nice body, Mr. Thoma. Almost like a professional model.”

With another tug and pull, Ayato pushed Thoma’s pants to mid-ankle. By this point, Thoma’s mind was singing with a feverish lust.

He stared at his boss still straddled across his lap.

Ayato’s pants were mysteriously unbuttoned, his cockhead peeping out from the black waistband of his underwear. Thoma wanted to reach for it, take it into his mouth.

But Thoma was locked in a supine position on the chair, and his boss’s bulk clamped him down.

Ayato’s hand pushed between Thoma’s legs, palming that long, erect cock, his thumb gliding over the cockslit to rub the pre-cum down Thoma’s length. His pinky stroked over Thoma’s balls, tickling his skin.

Moments before Thoma knew it, Ayato was tracing the tip of Thoma’s cock with his tongue.

He sighed loudly as his cock began twitching in response to Ayato’s licking.

Thoma wanted to curl up and watch his boss suck him off, but Ayato’s left hand had pressed down on Thoma’s stomach, keeping him flat in that face-up position. All Thoma could do was attempt to stare from whatever angle he could, and all he could see was Ayato’s head bobbing up and down as he sucked and swirled his tongue around.

Damn, Thoma cursed in his head, and damned he went again, his hands gripped the arm-rests tightly. He could feel his balls tighten, and swell, and tighten again.

If his boss did not release his cock soon enough, he would shoot his cum right into the very distinguished mouth of Kamisato Ayato.

“Kamisato-sama!” Thoma groaned again, jerking his butt and attempting to get his cock out of his boss’s mouth. He felt he was being wholly consumed as Ayato’s throat continued to embrace his very hard dick.

Ayato’s single left hand held Thoma down with no effort, and all which Thoma tried to do, failed.

He cannot control it anymore. He was going to cum.

Thoma’s eyes rolled back, and he blanked out into stars momentarily. His cock bucked, jerking against his boss’s throat, and he ejected into Ayato’s warm mouth...

It was more than a moment before Thoma woke up from his semi-dazed state to the sound of Ayato talking on the phone.

“...have them sell the summer special at a third of what we bought it. Also, tomorrow, the Cultural Director will join us for lunch. Make sure you have reserved a private room at the Narisawa, 2 pm.”

As Ayato’s rich voice continued, there was a pause, seemingly to answer a query on the other end.

“The chef’s omakase menu. Make it a table for five.”

Ayato paused again as if listening to a question.

Thoma opened his eyes wider, but he was still worn from his earlier orgasm. Then he realized he was still lying flat on the office chair, his pants completely off, his shirt somewhere.

Not his shirt, his boss’s shirt was somewhere.

In his mind, he was amazed at how sturdy the chair was to stay intact after what had happened earlier.

Thoma’s eyes swept towards where Ayato’s voice was. What he saw immediately woke him and revived his dick, his spent length slowly arching into a semi-erect position.

Ayato’s back faced him, and he was still on the phone.

His boss was only dressed in a white shirt, the flaps hanging over a very attractive and firm butt that panned down to long, muscular legs and shaped calves girded with black garter straps.

Thoma’s hand moved down to his dick, wanting to touch himself to the sight of Ayato in front of him.

“Yes, including Mr. Thoma. Put his name down on the list.”

Thoma’s hand stopped before he could grip his dick. Did he hear that wrongly?

A lunch with the Cultural Director? At the Narisawa?

That expensive place where a bowl of edamame would cost him a whole month’s salary?

Why would his boss bring him, a new employee, to such an important meeting?

Ayato finished the call. He set his cellphone down on the table and turned back to Thoma. His slender eyebrows arched up, his eyes swooped down to Thoma’s hand.

“Sir, I…I can explain!” Thoma said though he said whatever came to his mind right then. Even if it was not the question he wanted to ask, his mind was wholly robbed by the sensuous sight moving towards him.

“We are not done yet, Mr. Thoma.”

Kamisato Ayato replied, returning to the chair where Thoma laid on and straddling Thoma’s thighs. There was something in his hands. Thoma could see a glint of a silvery packet and a little pink bottle.

“We are not done yet? We…” Thoma exhaled audibly, trying to make sense of the situation. Ayato leaned down the flaps of his white shirt grazing Thoma’s waist.

The ferocity of Thoma’s physical response to Ayato’s closeness was so impossible to control. His hands reached for Ayato’s waist, touching his boss’s skin for the first time.

Ayato smiled, though his face was calm, oddly impassive, his eyes gleamed with heat. Thoma’s fingers moved, running an exploratory route over Ayato’s hips, thighs, and groin.

Ayato’s skin felt phenomenal.

Kamisato Ayato smelled phenomenal too.

Thoma stared, his mouth hanging.

“You’re so beautiful, Kamisato-sama.” The words fell out of Thoma’s mouth without conscious thought. Ayato’s brows lifted, and softness seeped into his eyes.

“Mr. Thoma. I’m glad you are enjoying what you see.”

Thoma’s heart started to pound as his boss moved forward. Their cocks rubbed against each other slowly, the wet from Thoma’s earlier orgasm damping Ayato’s skin. Thoma’s hand moved, and he daringly placed his palm over Ayato’s heart.

Ayato’s usual amused chuckle slipped from his lips.

“You don’t have to check if I’m excited, Mr. Thoma.” His boss said with seductive conviction. Ayato tore the silvery-blue condom packet in his hands slowly.

And just as slowly, his fingers fluttered the condom down Thoma’s erection before giving the tip a light kiss.

“I’m very excited, Mr. Thoma. Excited to feel how deep you can go in me.”

Something in Thoma snapped completely with those words Kamisato Ayato said.

“Sir.”

Thoma stared at his dick and up at his boss’s beautiful face. His hands gripped Ayato’s hips tightly.

“I need to fuck you, Sir,” Thoma confessed, flags of red spreading across his face.

That was as bold as he could go. His cock ached so hard.

“I need to be fucked, Mr. Thoma.” His boss replied with another of his sensual smiles.

Ayato did not waste the next moment.

He widened his legs, arched his ass, and slid his lubed hole against Thoma’s cock. Pressing a hand on Thoma’s stomach for leverage, Ayato pushed back as he did. Thoma’s hips bucked involuntarily, wanting to thrust his entire cock into his boss’s hole.

“No, Mr. Thoma. We are going slow.” His boss murmured, his fingers clawing against Thoma’s chest.

“Slow. I want to feel you slowly going in.”

Thoma inhaled sharply, moving his hands to cup Ayato’s ass. Inch by inch, he watched his dick disappearing inside Ayato.

A husky moan trailed from Ayato’s throat, and another inch vanished as Ayato sank heavily down, a little deeper than before.

Thoma closed his eyes, sinking back into the chair, taking a second to revel in Ayato’s heat, Ayato’s tightness. His boss’s ass felt incredibly tight.

He wanted to thrust, bottom his cock completely inside.His butt lifted, trying to push but only once, and Ayato’s hands kept him pinned down.

“Not yet, Mr. Thoma.”

Ayato’s voice was pleasant, but it carried a soft threat. Thoma shuddered, trying to control himself. Every part of him felt too good, as if fireworks were going off in all his limbs and digits.

Suddenly, Thoma felt wetness around his navel as Ayato moved to rim his stomach with the tip of his tongue.

Suddenly, Thoma did not know where the sensation ended and where it began.

His mouth was pried open, and fingers slipped in — fingers that tasted like the lightly sweetened lube on the condom and the dried salt of semen.

Ayato’s fingers prodded, pressured Thoma’s tongue, and played with it, twisting around in his mouth. It felt pleasantly lewd to have his mouth played like that till his lips were coated with his spit, and Thoma was gasping for more.

His cock swelled, becoming even harder inside. Ayato’s muscles clenched around him, and their hips ground slowly against each other to the rhythmic creaking of the chair they were upon.

“Mr. Thoma?”

Ayato whispered, and his body straightened, arms straining as he pulled upwards, releasing Thoma’s cock from his hole, till the tip.

“Sir.”

Thoma watched as the beautiful man above him stripped himself, the white shirt flung to a heap on the office floor. Kamisato Ayato reached forth and kissed Thoma once more.

He broke the kiss, looking into Thoma’s eyes.

“Fuck me, Mr. Thoma.”

And Thoma did as his boss ordered.

Ayato’s moans echoed across the glass walls of his office as Thoma started to piston in and out of him. He grabbed Ayato’s hips, his fingers digging into that firm flesh for greater leverage. Ayato’s ass was tight, wet, and hot, and Thoma felt as if he could not fuck his boss any faster.

A string of praise erupted in his ear, but all Thoma could hear was Ayato’s sensual moans.

His boss’s dick was just as gorgeous - the cockhead a rose beige, the shaft’s skin darkening to warm ivory. It bounced in front of Thoma’s eyes, an irresistible dance that made him wet his lips.

Kamisato Ayato was superbly endowed.

Thoma half-wondered if he could even fit Ayato’s entire cock into his mouth.

He wanted to try, but he can’t even jerk his boss off properly in this position.

“Concentrate, Mr. Thoma.”

Kamisato Ayato instructed, fingers moving to tap on Thoma’s cheek, bringing his attention back. But Ayato could not resist and slipped yet another kiss on Thoma’s panting lips.

“You’re doing well, Mr. Thoma.”

That praise, combined with Ayato’s ass gripping at his dick, overwhelmed Thoma. He started to buck forcefully, fucking his cock deep into his boss’s slick and supple hole.

Thoma started to breathe very hard. His face flushed with lust.

Each time he heard Ayato moan with each thrust, his heart pounded even faster.

“Are you coming, Mr. Thoma?” He heard Ayato’s whisper lush against his ear and Ayato’s weight completely sinking onto him.

His boss sighed, letting out a long deep moan as Thoma climaxed with a soft cry, his second orgasm pulsing through him, ropes of cum ejecting into the condom, and flooding down the length of his cock. His grip white-knuckled against his boss’s hips until he made red finger-marks on Ayato’s skin. Thoma felt fingers massaging his balls, urging more out of his spent dick.

Their gazes locked abruptly; Thoma could not look away, riveted by a delighted triumph that flared in Ayato’s eyes. At that moment, Thoma knew who owned him.

Thoma would do anything Kamisato Ayato wanted.

And Ayato knew it.

The office smelled like sex and a secretive pleasure. But Ayato was not done. He lifted himself off, easing Thoma’s semi-hard dick out. Pinching the condom, he yanked it off Thoma’s cock before dumping the tied rubber into the black bin next to his large wood-and-chrome desk.

Ayato settled back onto the top of his desk, spreading his legs, his hole still soft from sex.

He beckoned Thoma up from the chair.

“Did you feel good, Mr. Thoma?”

Ayato’s eyes lid, watching Thoma closely. His hand moves to pump his hard cock in a slow, sensual motion. Thoma pulled himself up.

Watching his boss on the office desk, legs spread, his hole invitingly wet and soft, made his lust grow again.

But he dared not take the initiative. Not till Ayato gave permission.

Ayato smiled his approval. He widened his legs, bidding Thoma to kneel on the floor between his spread thighs. Permission given, Thoma did as bidden, his hands pushing against Ayato’s thighs. He opens his mouth, his tongue moving forward to rim his boss’s soft, wet hole. He tried to tease, fluttering the tip of his tongue around the puckered skin.

Ayato made a soft tch.

“Don’t tease, Mr. Thoma. I’ve permitted you to be bolder.” Kamisato Ayato murmured, his tone expectant.

How bold can he be? Was his boss trying to test him in some sort of executive-level decision-making?

Thoma felt as if he was in a crisis if he thought too much.

Instead, he let instinct and pure lust take over. His tongue speared into Ayato’s ass, and he made tiny thrusts as deep as he could. But he tried, encouraged by his boss’s growing moans.

“Fingers, Mr. Thoma. Your tongue is not long enough.” Ayato instructed. There was now a lustful heat in his eyes as he watched Thoma slide two fingers into his hole.

Ayato moaned in satisfaction.

“Deeper. Yes, twist it around and push it up… up there. There!”

Ayato shut his eyes and trembled. He lay back on his office desk, his hands moving carelessly as a strong deep sensation overtook him. He swept the memo pad off the desk edge, the whole ensemble falling on the carpeted floor with a thud.

A third finger joined the two that were already inside.

Thoma swirled his fingers around, just like Ayato told him, and he inched deeper, feeling Ayato’s ass clench hard on his knuckles.

Ayato’s hips bucked up violently.

Another deep moan erupted from his lips.

“That spot, Mr. Thoma.” His boss gasped, jerking forward again, his cockhead bumping the edge of Thoma’s lips.

Thoma startled.

Throughout the whole time, the prize he was thinking about was offering itself up for the taking. He parted his lips without any further thought, taking Ayato’s cock into his mouth. Thoma sucked and sucked until he was practically panting, and he continued to fuck Ayato’s hole with his fingers.

“Mr. Thoma...” His boss gasped, his moans turned into muffled panting. Ayato’s toes curled, and his knees caged Thoma’s face.

Thoma paused, his green eyes hazed and staring at his boss’s flushed face.

Kamisato Ayato blushed in a very erotic way - it was not a blush of shyness; it was very lewd and an incredibly sexy deep pink; Ayato blushed from his face to his neck, the redness blossoming across his chest and nipples.

“Are you hard again? You're staring so much, Mr. Thoma.” Ayato asked, sliding his leg against Thoma’s cheek. Thoma felt the flat edge of his boss’s sock garter rub against his cheek.

Thoma wanted to say no, but it was again, obviously a lie. He released Ayato’s dick from his mouth, dragged his fingers out of his boss’s ass with a pop, and stood up, his dick upright and the tip swollenly red.

“Put it in me, Mr. Thoma. I want to feel your cock inside when I cum.”

Thoma inched forward, lust taking over his brain for a moment, as he lined up his cockhead against his boss’s hole.

Then he balked.

“Sir, where’s the condom? We should put one on, and I don’t think…”

“Mr. Thoma. You don’t think. Put it in.” Ayato said, coaxing, cajoling; his eyes were pure lust staring ahead at the hesitating Thoma.

Thoma did not think now. He pressed forward, his cock sliding and sinking in. This position was different, and the angle felt insanely good.

The thought that he was fucking his boss on his boss’s desk, in his boss’s office, surrounded by the magnificent backdrop of Inazuma’s city’s finest skyscrapers right in the middle of a luxurious upmarket district made him almost come immediately.

“Mr. Thoma.” Ayato gasped, leaning back to feel each thrust in his ass even more. His toes curled again, his knees arched up. “Deeper.”

Thoma pulled back an inch, and he slid forward, slamming himself into his boss. He stared down at where they were connected. It turned him on to see his dick penetrating Ayato’s ass, plunging in and withdrawing.

“More, Mr. Thoma. I’m so close...” Ayato rasped.

Ayato had planted his hands on the sides of his office desk. He was not even touching himself anymore.

Thoma reached forward, gripping Ayato’s knees, his body hovering over his boss’s. His dick was throbbing so hard, and his balls felt painful. He needed to cum badly. His whole body ached for release. Thoma gasped Ayato’s name as he fell forward.

He felt Ayato’s body buck against his once, sinking into a breathy orgasm.

Thin streaks of cum seeped out from Ayato’s jerking cock, slicking down his abdomen to pool on the reflective surface of the office desk. The sight of semen pooling on the desk made Thoma completely lose it.

Holding his boss’s body tight, he fucked Ayato hard, in a rhythm that made no sense.

He stiffened, coming weakly with a few wet spurts inside Ayato’s ass. Thoma collapsed forward, slumping his sweaty body on his boss’s chest, his cock still twitching feebly inside.

All he wanted now to do was fall asleep. He hardly even have the energy to pull himself out. Sighing contentedly, Thoma closed his eyes, and it all went dark.

He was not sure if he had slept for many hours. Thoma felt some sort of softness underneath him and a blanket covering his body. The blanket smelled like Kamisato Ayato. Something like lips kissed his forehead in an odd, tender way. Thoma muttered unintelligibly before pulling the blanket about his shoulders, his brows creasing.

Ayato’s hand reached out to smooth at Thoma’s forehead wrinkles before patting Thoma’s shoulder.

In Kamisato Ayato’s office, Thoma was sleeping on a black leather couch facing a set of floor-to-ceiling windows. The sun was already setting down on the horizon, enrobing the tall buildings on upper Inazuma in molten gold. Ayato was savoring a cup of lukewarm tea as he watched the sleeping Thoma, and at times, his eyes flicked to the scenery outside his office windows.

There was a knock on his office door. Madam Furuta entered, bearing a tray filled with sandwiches, fresh fruit, and another pot of hot tea. She set the tray down at the side cabinet where the wine bar was.

Ayato set down his cup as well.

Sighting the sleeping Thoma, Furuta seemed curious.

She ventured a question in her soft voice.

“Young master, are you sure he’s the one you’re looking for? The benefactor’s son.”

Kamisato Ayato settled himself on the edge of his office desk, turning to the sound of Furuta’s question. He was quiet for a moment as if he was thinking.

Furuta continued, sighing, “That was ten years ago, young master. It could have been anyone.”

She seemed a little bothered by Ayato’s silence but held her tongue in respect.

Ayato slipped from his desk. He sat on the armrest, and his hand moved to brush the blond bangs across Thoma’s forehead slowly.

“I’m sure I’ve found him, Furuta. Even if he has changed his name, I know this is him.”

“Should I tell the young lady?”

Ayato shook his head. “No, do not tell my sister.”

Furuta did not speak, yet her expression held many questions. “I’ll do as you say, young master.”

Furuta bowed as she removed the old pot of tea from the table.

“You have an appointment tomorrow, young master, at the Narisawa.” She reminded, and she glanced once at Thoma, who was out cold still on the couch, then back at Ayato. “Shall I ask the tailor to come later? Mr. Thoma would need a suit for tomorrow’s lunch.”

Ayato poured a new cup of tea and shook his head.

“He can wear one of my suits. I have too many.”

Furuta sighed and opened the door. Before she left, she looked sternly at Ayato. “Before Madam Kayo passed, she had told me to look after you and Miss Ayaka.”

Her lips hyphen into a thin line.

“There’s too many who’s pretending to be your benefactor’s son, young master. I hope Mr. Thoma is not one of them again.”

“Furuta.” Ayato straightened, setting down his teacup. “I am sure this time.”

The elderly lady could only nod, and she left the office, her steps heavy.

The door shut and latched with a click. It was quiet now, and the evening had given way to an early night. The city below burst into brilliance, strips of red clashing with gold, but Inazuma City’s iconic skyline did little to draw Ayato’s attention. All he could watch was the face of the man who was sleeping on his couch.

Thoma continued to sleep for three more hours. He made odd little sounds, frowning as if he was dreaming. At times, he shouted something, a name that did not make sense.

In these three hours, Ayato worked, though his eyes flitted from his documents to look at the sleeping man. He yawned after a while, a little tired. The tea in the pot had gone cold. It was very late; all his employees likely had returned. No one checked on him after a specific time - everyone knew Kamisato Ayato always worked till the early hours of the morning.

His phone buzzed.

A text message popped up.

It was from Ayaka.

He checked the text and dialed up a number.

“...no, not tonight.”

Ayato’s face deepened into a frown as the conversation carried on.

“I did not. It’s fine. You can go on your own tomorrow. Ask Kozue to go with you.”

He ended the call. Leaning back into his chair, Ayato closed his eyes. He had left the food brought in by Furuta earlier, untouched. There was worry, but it was not about what Furuta had said. He believed this time that he had found the right person.

Ayato was not sure how to explain it. It nipped at his heart in a way that he just wanted to get close to this man. There was obviously a strong physical attraction, even if it was just raw lust.

He just was not sure about his emotional attunement yet.

Though, there was something different about Thoma.

Thoma suddenly shouted in his sleep, and he flailed, kicking the blanket off himself.

“Mr. Thoma?” He left his desk, moving to the couch.

Ayato squatted in front of the sleeping Thoma, his fingers reaching to slowly brush the man’s blond bangs.

Thoma’s lips twitched, and he sneezed.

“Are you awake?”

Ayato’s pleasant voice was the first thing Thoma heard.

He felt a cold bottle of water on his face. Sneezing again, Thoma sat up, taking the bottle from his boss and popping it open. He needed a drink. But he drank sloppily, a trickle of water rolling down the side of his mouth.

“Do you want something to eat, Mr. Thoma?”

His boss’s voice sounded again. Thoma blinked, pulling the bottle of water from his mouth, and he looked up. His mouth hung wide.

“Sir… Kamisato Ayato-sama?”

Ayato was fully dressed, his pants and shirt immaculate.

He held a wrapped sandwich in one hand and an apple and offered both to Thoma.

“You worked very hard, Mr. Thoma. I’m sure you’re hungry.” Ayato's lips curved into a light smile.

He placed both items on Thoma’s lap and took the water bottle away from him. Glancing at the bottle, Ayato raised it to his lips and drank whatever was left of it.

Thoma’s nerves tingled as he watched Ayato take a drink and swallow it. The working of Ayato’s throat made him feel hot, but that was nothing compared to the teasing glance Ayato gave him afterward.

Suddenly, his boss dropped down on his knees, clapping his hands on Thoma’s thighs.

Ayato kissed him, moving in very fast. Thoma saw it coming, but he did not turn away. His boss’s mouth was cold, somewhat flavored with some floral citrus tea. A bunch of curses popped up in Thoma’s head. For some good reason, he felt energetic again, all that sensation rushing into his head.

Thoma shoved a hand into Ayato’s hair, clenching it tight, holding Ayato still as they continued to kiss, their tongues brushing wetly against each other.

The sandwich and apple tumbled from Thoma’s lap onto the carpet.

Ayato’s moans peppered Thoma’s ears. That was the most erotic sound he’d ever heard upon waking up.

Thoma wrenched away, a string of saliva following, dripping from his lower lip. He panted. Ayato followed. He nuzzled against Thoma’s face, brushing his lips over Thoma’s reddened ear.

They were breathing very hard.

Ah, Ayato thought, he would have to let Thoma go for now. He didn’t mind another round of sex on the couch, but a part of him thought it would create more trouble than he wanted.

After all, he still needed to investigate Thoma’s background further.

“Shall I call a car for you, Mr. Thoma?” Ayato finally spoke his voice even, his breathing back to normal.

“I…” Thoma started, then his mouth snapped shut. He quickly checked if he was even wearing any clothes, the memory of what had happened earlier in the afternoon possessing his brain. Yes, he was wearing “I can take the bus, Sir.”

Ayato’s throaty laugh returned, and he just shook his head. “I’ll send you home, Mr. Thoma.”

Thoma wanted to say no, but his heart said otherwise.

Kamisato Ayato did not drive. Instead, he called a limousine service, and the vehicle waited at the curb outside. The limo drove off, the gentle hum of the air-conditioning the only sound between them. His boss was quiet, his face turning to look out of the tinted windows, the glimmer of lights shuttling across his oddly pensive face.

Thoma drew in a breath.

He was not even sure how he managed to seduce his good-looking boss. All he did was turn up at work, and his button popped. All he could remember was his boss asking him questions, and he just said yes. And things just happened.

Not that Thoma regretted it. His eyes trailed to Ayato’s hand that carelessly lay on the leather seat. His fingers twitched, wanting to inch over, to hold that hand in his.

“Mr. Thoma.”

Ayato turned to look at the man seated next to him.

“Sir?” Thoma realized he was staring at Ayato the whole ride. He yanked back his hand.

Ayato looked pensive again, and then he moved across the seat to close the gap between them. His lush lips parted as if to do something or to say something. Leaning close to Thoma’s cheek, he whispered.

“I forgot to tell the driver your address.”

Before Thoma could answer, Ayato had reached for the privacy glass button, hitting it and the dark-tinted glass slid up.

He was straddled across Thoma’s lap the next moment, his mouth on Thoma’s, kissing him fiercely.

“Kamisato-sa-” Thoma’s voice was sealed shut by repetitive kisses. His hands shoved into Thoma’s hair, and with his knees on either side of Thoma’s hips, Ayato wrapped his arms around Thoma’s shoulders, deepening the kiss.

Thoma exhaled deeply as Ayato finally let go. He ran his hands down his boss’s firm chest, feeling the hardness of Ayato’s muscles, tracing the ridges of Ayato’s abdomen.

“Kamisato-sama…”

“Mr. Thoma.” Ayato tilted his head, still straddled across Thoma’s lap. He did not look away, and his eyes latched on Thoma’s green. The limo pulled to a red light. Outside, traffic rushed across. Inside, the dark glass concealed them, making Thoma feel suddenly reckless.

He wanted to please Kamisato Ayato. Perhaps Thoma did not know that he had already pleased his boss so many times over earlier.

Rocking his hips against Ayato’s, Thoma stroked the hard lengths of their erections together through the fabric. Ayato’s chest lifted, his breath hissing out between clenched teeth.

“How did you learn so fast, Mr. Thoma?”

Ayato rested his forehead against Thoma’s shoulder. It was broad, well-muscled, and somehow, they seemed to smell the same. Perhaps it was because Thoma was wearing his shirt, Ayato thought.

At his boss’s sudden gentle gesture, Thoma buried his face into Ayato’s chest, inhaling his scent, wanting to bite off the buttons of Ayato’s shirt. Did Ayato shower after sex earlier? Thoma pressed his nose further in, rubbing it between the firm pecs. He thought he was going to drown from the enticing smell of Ayato’s skin.

“Sir…” He stared up, his arms clinging around Ayato’s waist. The light flipped green, and the limo moved forward, surging into late-night congestion.

Kamisato Ayato smiled against Thoma’s shoulder. He straightened back up, cupping Thoma’s face with his hands.

“Mr. Thoma. The first lesson you’ve learned at work today is good decision-making.”

Thoma looked embarrassed. But that praise made his hands bold, and he reached for the front of Ayato’s pants, freeing the two buttons to access the concealed zipper.

Ayato tensed, the smile never leaving his face, and he made no further attempts to stop Thoma. The limo moved slowly, weaving through traffic, and Thoma could see the impatient faces of the drivers whose cars clustered near the limousine. He could hear horns blare from beyond their luxurious, air-conditioned interior. All the noise, all the fluster only made him even fearless.

He stroked, squeezing Ayato gently, sliding his fists up the length and from root to tip. He remembered how Ayato rubbed him back earlier in the office while on the chair.

A soft groan followed each stroke Thoma made. Ayato’s chest heaved with deep breaths. Was his boss feeling the same as he did? Engaging in lewdness surrounded by all these people, all these cars? He knew Ayato was an adventurous risk-taker in the industry, but to be so daring to do this in a publicly hired limousine…

Thoma’s cheeks heated.

A car’s headlights flashed past, piercing right through the dark tinted glass window on his left.

The shard of light splayed over his face and Ayato’s.

Thoma stared for that brief moment at his boss’s elegantly handsome face. He gaped.

Ayato’s cheeks flushed even redder than back then on the office desk. It pinked over his perfect cheekbones and brought out that delectable mole below his lower lip. That tease of a smile Ayato had on his lips was playful, playful, and knowing.

As if he knew it would be this moment for Thoma to witness.

Ayato’s hand shifted swiftly from Thoma’s shoulder to press another button on a shadowy panel, his voice becoming even and stern as he instructed the driver :

“Kamisato Estate.”

Winking a little wickedly as he released the button, Ayato returned his attention to Thoma.

“We have thirty minutes, Mr. Thoma.”

Thoma breathed in deeply; his exhalation caught into a kiss as Ayato pulled them close. His hands fisted at Ayato’s hips, snagging down the waistband, releasing Ayato’s cock fully, his desire for the man across his lap raising to a fever pitch.

Then Thoma felt hands on his waist, hands too, snagging down his pants, unbuckling his belt, pulling his hard dick out into the open. The chill air tensed his skin, sending a string of goosebumps.

Ayato continued with his kisses, his body arching elegantly over Thoma’s.

“Sir…” Thoma gasped as Ayato lowered himself, his fingers reaching to wrap around Thoma’s dick, positioning him. The inside of the limo grew humid, hot. Thoma tingled as his cock snuggled between the cleft of Ayato’s ass.

“Mr. Thoma. We have ten minutes now.” Ayato breathed in. He closed his eyes, deepening his breaths. They were caught, wrapped together in this tiny little space within the spacious limousine.

He did not insert Thoma’s dick in; instead, Ayato began to move slowly, up and down, bobbing his ass against Thoma’s length, breathing out slow sighs.

Thoma felt as if something was sucking him in. He held fast onto Ayato’s hips, massaging flesh and staring up at his beautiful boss sliding up and down on his cock. Light splashed across Ayato’s face at irregular junctures.

At times Thoma caught glimpses of Ayato’s erotic expressions.

He wanted his boss so badly!

Thoma’s neck arched, his head pressing back hard into the seat as if he struggled to control himself.

“Sir… I’m going to cum…” He gasped, clutching Ayato’s hips tightly.

Ayato slid smoothly once down the length of Thoma’s twitching cock, keeping the shaft snug between his ass cheeks.

Sweat dotted Thoma’s upper lip and drove a sheen of wet across his forehead. Ayato leaned forward, sliding his tongue across Thoma’s mouth before pressing their mouths together. Rocking his hips backward, Ayato rubbed his butt against the jerking length, every slide forcing a burst of release from Thoma.

Thoma shook as the orgasm tore into him. He pulled Ayato close, tight, like how a drowning man would clutch to water, the aftershocks shuddering through his body.

The strokes of Ayato’s tongue in his mouth felt good, somehow soothing him.

Then Ayato broke the kiss.

“We are here, Mr. Thoma.” He said, lifting himself off Thoma and settling back onto the adjoining space, adjusting his pants, restoring his appearance. Thoma did as well, though he thought his arms and legs were suddenly going to break.

Slowly, it dawned on him that he was not going home tonight. As the limousine pulled to a stop, the bright-lit driveway of the Kamisato Estate came into view.

Ayato stepped out of the limousine, straightening his shirt. Thoma drew in a deep breath, and before he too stepped out, he caught sight of a growing wet patch behind Ayato’s back.

Thoma sucked in a breath and steeled himself.

He was curious about what his boss wanted with him, but he was even more curious about the little conversation he overhead between Ayato and Furuta.

Just who exactly was Kamisato Ayato looking for?