Work Text:
Scarab was over it.
All of it. His patronizing boss, who got upset with Scarab just for doing his job. The drooling, idiotic employees that Scarab was in charge of monitoring. He swore that if anyone else was in charge of the company’s funds, it would sink within a month.
Scarab was bitter about being auditor after years of outperforming everyone else in his department. He was appalled at the state of the tax documents Orbo had sent in, (which Scarab was in charge of fixing, of course). The meeting Scarab had put together last week to reinform everybody how to properly fill out those documents was clearly wasted time- a wound that was heavily salted by the brain-dead meeting he was currently sitting through, discussing availability and plans for the end of the year pizza party, in which people were much more attentive. ‘ This could have been an email,’ Scarab had said, earning an annoyed look from the three people who actually heard him. It should have been an email, and yet it was a two-hour meeting. Because of course it was.
When he was finally able to leave the meeting room, he was seething with violent energy that needed to be released before he took it out on the first intern who dared to breathe around him. Some of those interns were better than employees who had been there for years; that thought only made him feel worse, as he jabbed the elevator button for the first floor.
The first floor was not Scarab’s department- but it was Prismos. And if Scarab was going to work another five hours, he needed to get the frustration out of his system. His boyfriend was always a willing participant in that.
Scarab stormed through the hall, the methodical click-clack-click of his cane and his boots bouncing off the walls. Employees hurried past him, avoiding his glare like each second caught under it would decrease their pay by the dollar. At his current level of patience, maybe it would.
He found Prismo without too much searching; he was between office rooms walking somewhere, Scarab really couldn’t care less where he was going. He grabbed the taller man’s arm and began wordlessly leading him towards the less occupied back halls of the office.
“Woah- Scrabby? What's up? We, uh, going to do the thing…?”
Scarab hummed, a quick and affirmative noise that made Prismo's cheeks darken.
“You weren’t busy, were you?”
“Oh, no, not really. I can spare a few minutes-” he nearly yelped when Scarab ripped open a familiar broom closet door and tossed Prismo in, who easily brought himself to the ground, sitting up against the back wall. The room smelled like lemon-scented cleaning products and a little like bleach, but Prismo was pretty sure it would smell very different before long. He watched his partner tug a little key off a wall hook and lock the door behind them.
“I’m going to have you in here for more than a few minutes, Prismo. I just had to sit through a two-hour meeting about a pizza party. Orbo’s frivolous spending has been a thorn in my side for ages, and he still insists on wasting my time on more pointless events.”
Scarab stepped over to Prismo, who looked up at him with a wobbly, horny smile and an enthusiastic little nod. The shorter man started tugging his coat off, and though there wasn’t much light in the tiny closet, Prismo watched the thin-waisted shadow in front of him strip down to nothing and set his clothes haphazardly on the wire shelves.
“Prismo,”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not feeling nice. Remind me of the safe word?”
There was an audible swallow, and a tiny, nervous laugh, “Uh, what was it… taxes?”
“Yes. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I’m so ready, Scrabby-”
“Good. You want to tell me where you were really going, so eagerly?” Scarab brought the hard front of his expensive, black-heeled boot forward, carefully prodding for the sensitive bulge between Prismo's legs. As he toed around in the dark, prodding at the meat of his thighs, encouraging him to spread further. Prismo gasped and squirmed , once he had found and pressed down against his target. He was already half hard. Scarab licked his lips. “Answer me.”
“I was going to hang out with Owl.” It was a lie- truly, he’d just been going to lunch, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to rile his boyfriend up. He was crazy hot when he got going, when he took out all his frustrations with work on him. Prismo had always enjoyed seeing him flexing his authority on the other employees, holding himself back from giving them the tongue-lashing he clearly wanted to. It was sexy as fuck. Prismo was delighted to be the one who got to see the worst (best) of it, to be the catalyst for him to vent.
“Typical,” Scarab hissed, a disappointed tinge to his voice, as though he was about to scold him for blatant insubordination, “I should have known you wouldn’t be working. If you’re not going to do your job, you might as well make yourself useful, and give me a fat dick to fuck.” Scarab pulled his foot back and dropped to his knees, cupping Prismo’s cock through his loose pants. It was still filling steadily, pulsing under his firm touch. Prismo had nothing to say in response, but he slanted his hips up into Scarab’s palm. He just pushed him back down, heavy pressure straight to his heat that made him surrender and moan into the dark void of the closet. Scarab’s other hand gripped tight into the soft flesh of his thigh, holding his legs open.
“Be quiet. If we’re caught because you can’t keep your voice down, there will be more consequences than just losing your job, Prismo.” Scarab threatened, his voice a low, steady growl, sounding much more composed than he felt. He was soaking wet between his legs, he’d already been so before the elevator finished its downward trip, knowing he would soon have a hard and willing boyfriend underneath him. His hasty stripping was not due to impatience, but more an attempt to keep the smell of sex out of his work clothes, and to keep the crotch of his pants from soaking.
“Yes sir.” Prismo murmured, purposefully lowering his voice to a desperate whimper. Scarab was kneading his cock to full mass, working him under his long, slender fingers that were impossibly hot even over the fabric of his pants. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, his head knocking back into the concrete wall behind him.
“I could make you come in your pants like this. It would barely take any time at all. Then I could send you right back to the office to work in your own mess for the rest of the day. Do you think you could handle that? Would you be able to focus on your job?”
“No- fuck , Scrabby,” Prismo’s voice stayed hushed, making a conscious effort to keep his moans stifled in his throat. Scarab delighted in the interested twitch under his palm. Prismo was so easy to provoke. He was nearly positive that, if they had the time, he could talk an orgasm out of the other, no touch required. Maybe another day.
“Take your pants off, then.” his mouth was suddenly at his ear, canines nipping right above his piercing. Prismo hurried to tug his bottoms down, boxers included. Scarab implied he’d be taking his time, but the taller man was aching for him to do more than feel him up.
Scarab’s mouth met Prismo’s lips the same instant his hand slid firm around his dick, so Scarab could swallow the groan that rolled through his partner’s throat. He held himself back from stroking over Prismo’s dry cock, choosing instead to thumb over the head, rubbing the needy spill of precum over the hot, hard flesh, as he worked his tongue past his boyfriend’s parted lips. Every little gasp and moan went straight to his cunt. The burning ache was becoming harder to ignore.
Not one to deny himself, Scarab pulled back from the kiss, leaving Prismo’s lips wet and shiny even in the darkness of the closet, a visual so sexy Scarab nearly dropped his hand down to relieve some pressure. But he could wait another minute.
Scarab brought himself closer, crawling deeper into Prismo’s space, his bent knees boxing in his boyfriend’s hips. His legs were still spread lewdly, eagerly, forming a perfect well in his lap for Scarab to sit. Steady hands found Prismo’s dick again, shaft still annoyingly dry, despite how wet his tip was.
With his free hand, he slipped two of his fingers past the other’s slick lips, toying with his tongue. The wet sounds filled the room, and Scarab leaned forward to lick some of their combined saliva from the corner of Prismo’s mouth. The taller man whined at the sensation.
“Spit in my hand.” Scarab demanded, pulling his fingers from his mouth, and cupping his hand against his chin. “I won’t put your cock in my mouth until I’m ready for you to come in it.”
Prismo was quick to do as he was told, producing a small pool of saliva for Scarab to drag over his aching need, stroking him hard and fast until he was thoroughly coated in spit. Scarab believed they could have gone without any extra lubrication, considering there was plenty of it dripping down his thighs, but making Prismo do filthy things under his command was far too hot to resist. Logic be damned. “Scarab, please-” Prismo’s voice was impatient, though he still made a meager attempt to keep his volume down. It was important for both of them to stay quiet, but that didn’t mean Scarab liked making it easy for him.
“Please what?” he purred, slipping a free hand up under Prismo’s shirt, feeling over his soft, warm skin until he found a pert nipple and pinched it tight between his fingers. The cock in his hand jumped with him, a shuddering gasp spilling off his tongue.
“Please let me fuck you, fuck, Scrabby, I’m going to come-” Scarab tightened around his sex, his index finger and thumb forming a makeshift cockring around his base. Prismo whined, knocking his head back again, an audible thunk bouncing off the wall.
“You’re not coming until I do, and you will not come inside me. Unlike you, I still have to work after this.”
Prismo blinked, his thoughts forming slowly, mind thick like honey, “What? Am I not…?”
“No. You’re going to clock out early today. Right after I'm done with you, with your dick still wet in your pants. When I get home, I want your ass prepped for me. I'm going to fucking wreck you." Prismo moaned, bucking his hips into Scarab’s hand, and the shorter man was positive he would have come had he not been forcing him to keep it in.
“Holy shit, Scrabs, please, please let me fuck you,” Prismo was wound up so tight he was a little worried he’d come as soon as Scarab let go of him. He knew the other was serious- it wasn’t the first time they had planned to fuck more after work, and Prismo was always eager to get strapped. He was drooling at the mental image.
Scarab finally, finally brought himself forward, out of Prismo’s lap to hold himself above his boyfriend’s weeping dick. Prismo grabbed onto the sharp jut of Scarab’s hips with eager anticipation, only to be swatted away.
“Did I say you could touch me?”
“No, no, I’m sorry-”
“Keep your hands on the floor. I’ll take what I want from you.” Scarab hissed, and Prismo was quick to listen, horrified of anything that might make his boyfriend take longer to fuck him.
Agonizingly slowly (for both of them), Scarab lowered himself down onto Prismo’s waiting cock, sighing in delicious pleasure as he parted his wet labia and pushed between his quivering walls.
There was some burn- he’d made a conscious decision not to prep himself beforehand. Scarab wanted it to sting, wanted to spear himself on Prismo’s dick and feel himself stretch tight around him. Prismo was making a valiant effort to keep his moans to himself, but was ultimately failing, as Scarab drove him deeper into his burning hot cunt.
Their hips met after a toe-curling stretch of time, and Prismo was fully slotted inside him, throbbing against Scarab’s tight core. They sat there for a minute, while the shorter man revealed in the fullness, the satisfying ache and the desperate look on Prismo’s face, waiting to be wrecked.
Scarab waited just a moment too long, just until his boyfriend looked like he was about to beg for more, before pulling himself up and slamming back down. He slapped a hand over Prismo’s mouth, muffling the shout that tried to leap from his throat. Scarab set a steady pace, driving his hips forward, biting his lip to keep his own sounds silent. The haughty gasps and bitten off moans mixed with the wet slap of skin against skin, and the room no longer smelled of lemon, but of sex.
Prismo was drooling against Scarab’s hand, but he was being too loud to risk removing it. His dick was pounding deep inside him, striking his core, making his thighs tremble as he rode. He knew he wasn’t going to last long; he’d been aching for it, Prismo was so thick and hot inside him, scraping past his sweet-spot with every thrust-
Scarab replaced his hand with his tongue against Prismo’s mouth, taking his pleasured cry down his throat as he took his cock to the hilt and shuddered. His body drew taut, and his walls gripped onto Prismo’s dick as he came, fucking himself in shallow thrusts as he rode out the waves of his orgasm. Prismo was making desperate, vulgar pleas, mouthing at him in pitiful desperation. Scarab only took his lips back once he had finished, the last flutters of his peak passing through him.
“Scarab, I’m going to cum, please, please, let me cum, I can’t-” the words spilled from him in rapid succession, and Scarab was happy to oblige such a beautiful request after he’d been so good for him. He lifted himself off, earning a truly vulgar whine from Prismo as his dick was freed from Scarab’s warmth. He only had to suffer through the cold closet air for a moment, before he sucked him into his mouth with a lewd slurp and Prismo was gone, biting down on his own fingers to keep his scream repressed into a strained groan, choking on the sound regardless of his effort. Scarab hummed over the hot flesh in his mouth, swallowing down every gush of cum, holding Prismo’s thighs open when he tried to squeeze tight around his boyfriend’s head. He was shaking like a leaf, and Scarab listened close to his noises, letting him slide out of his mouth once he was audibly overstimulated and spent.
Before he could speak, Scarab tugged his pants back up over Prismo’s hips, holding him by the belt loops against the wall and kissing him with tender passion. He reached one hand up, sliding over Prismo’s arm and guiding it to his waist. He let him hold him close, panting into their kiss, taking everything he was given.
A minute passed before Scarab let him breathe. They had well-adjusted to the darkness by then, and they took a moment to stare at each other while they filled their lungs and brought themselves down from their high.
“You did wonderfully.” Scarab praised, once his rapid heart rate had settled to a reasonable pace.
“Are you satisfied now?” Prismo asked, peeling himself off the wall and wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his sweater. He was a little glad he was headed home- he smelled like the room did.
“Very. For now, anyway. I wasn’t kidding about fucking you again later.”
“Oh, I know, Scrabby! I’m going right home, don’t even worry.” Prismo did nothing to hide the eagerness in his whisper. Scarab kissed him again, briefly, combing his hand through his hair before climbing to his feet to find his clothes.
“You leave first. I’ll be home by eight.” Scarab took on a familiar authoritative tone that had Prismo hurrying to stand and head for the door. He unlocked it, set the key back on its hook and slipped out into the dim hall. Thankfully, Prismo’s steps were the only ones audible.
Scarab pulled his clothes back on and took a few minutes to clean himself up before leaving the closet. He took his time on the walk back to the elevator, bringing himself back into his work headspace. There were still more than four hours until his shift ended; but the knowledge that Prismo would be working himself up for him at home was very distracting. Maybe it would be best if he headed home early, too.