Work Text:
"Another shift? I'm starting to think you're only working here for my cock."
"Kyle Garrick," you hiss, smacking his arm.
Laughing, Kyle grabs your wrist, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “The deal still stands.
"I'm fully aware of the deal," you mutter with a smile, removing your hand from his grasp.
"Any place. Any time."
"I know."
Kyle grins and aggressively clicks the end of his pen until you roll your eyes. "Just do it you big idiot," you mutter.
Putting pen to paper, Kyle scratches out your scheduled time and moves the shift elsewhere.
This time, he clicks the end of the pen once. "Behind the changing rooms."
"Now?"
Kyle tilts his head to the side, a sly smirk on his face. Of course, now. He doesn't mean later. He never means later.
Within five minutes, you're leaning over a stack of delivery boxes with Kyle deep inside you.
All around you is the overflow of popular items. Couples have been coming in exclusively to purchase Scream masks, and it seems that every child that walks in with their parents wants to be a superhero. You're surrounded by masks, fake weapons, and numerous packaged costumes for every age.
You bite down on your bottom lip to stifle every rush of air that threatens to escape your lungs. Kyle's muted grunts are slowly turning into groans.
"Fucking hell, love,” he mutters, his thrusts quicken pace. The boxes beneath you shake and shift. They'll topple over, taking you with them if he isn't careful. Kyle exhales, his hips grinding against yours, holding there as his cum floods your pussy.
This is the agreement. The arrangement.
When you need a shift moved or covered, Kyle will happily do it. But he has free use of your body whenever he wants and at any time.
Kyle gently thrusts, pushing his cum deeper into you.
"We need to go back," you groan, attempting to catch your breath. "There's probably an insane line at the register."
Kyle chuckles. "There wasn't a soul in the store when we came back here."
You glance over your shoulder and scowl. "How long have we been gone?"
With a brief squeeze of your ass, Kyle eases his softening cock from your body. His cum follows him.
As you stand to adjust your clothes, Kyle's arms embrace you.
He kisses the top of your head. "Don't worry your pretty little head over it."
You groan and shove at him. "You're insufferable."
"But you like me," he teases as the two of you exit the small storage space, grabbing a box on the way out.
"On your knees."
You turn and almost scream.
Kyle is standing right behind you wearing one of those goddamn Scream masks. It's one of the red ones with horns.
"What are you doing? You scared me."
You're standing behind the counter at the very back of the store. The only customers are near the front, browsing and oblivious to your work in the back. Most don't even realize they can make a purchase back there.
"On your knees."
You blink. "The cameras, Kyle."
"They're off."
You cross your arms over your chest. "How did you—"
"I have my ways." He nods toward the floor. "On your knees."
You promptly fall. The counter is high enough to obscure at a distance but not if someone walks directly up to it. But you made an agreement with Kyle. If he tells you to get on your knees, you do it.
You present your mouth, and Kyle reaches for the front of his jeans. He opens them up, and then you take him into your mouth. With his hand on the back of your head, you suck and tease, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him all the way to the base.
Kyle starts to groan, and then clears his throat, head on a swivel as he watches the store. You keep at it, finding your own pleasure in the task of pleasing him. The mask certainly doesn't harm. You understand why it's so popular now.
One moment you're throating him, and the next you're pressed against the counter, Kyle quickly adjusting to lean forward, blocking any view of you. He pushes the mask up to reveal his face, grinning widely at whoever is standing there.
"How can I help you?" he asks, voice charming and smooth with zero indication that his cock is down your throat.
Inwardly grinning, you continue to suck him off. This is what he wanted after all. Why not give it to him?
"I'm looking for this," comes a woman's voice.
Kyle leans forward a bit like he's peering at a phone. "Those are in stock. Just over there."
"Over where?"
You take him down to the hilt and his hips jerk in response. "Front of the store. Left-hand side. Second row." He chokes on the last two words, barely getting them out.
You hear footsteps moving away, and then Kyle is glancing down at you, shaking his head softly.
"Swallow," he whispers. "Do it."
As he says it, his release hits your tongue. Relaxing your throat, you allow the cum to slide down as much as possible before you swallow the rest. When every drop is down your throat, he pops his cock from your mouth.
His pants are buttoned and back into place in seconds. You start to get up but his hand lands on your head, pushing you back down.
"Ready to check out?"
"Yes."
"I'll meet you up front."
You watch him go from your spot on the floor. You wait a full minute before checking to make sure it's clear.
"I—I can't. Kyle. Please."
The customers are gone. The registers have been counted. The front doors are locked and all the lights are off. Except one. The one on the desk in the back office.
That lamp is on, casting a soft glow over your naked body. Kyle kneels between your spread legs. All you can see are his eyes. His mouth is busy with other things.
A swipe of his tongue and you're gone. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you moan loudly, fingers clinging to the edge of the desk. You're supposed to be in your car, driving home. Instead, Kyle is giving you your third orgasm.
"One more," he murmurs against your sex. "One more."
You can't do one more. You really can't.
There are a few second reprieve before Kyle returns to his work. Every limb is shaking, overstimulation thudding through you so hard it's bordering on pain. You finish quick and loud, screaming out into the tiny room.
Kyle is standing and sliding into you within a few brief moments. The old desk creaks under the sharp thrusting. Kyle has one hand on your inner thigh, keeping you wide while the other rests firmly next to your shoulder. He leans over you, panting just as hard as you are.
Kyle's eyes are heavy-lidded with lust. "Feel so good," he groans.
Pushing up onto one elbow, you reach out for him, hand grasping the back of his neck. Kyle grins as you tug, closing the distance. His lips meet yours and it is perfect bliss.
"Finish inside me,” you sigh. “I want to feel you."
Your little admission does something to him. Kyle's groan softens to a sound you've never heard from him before. He kisses you again, and there is deep possession in it.
The two of you might have an agreement. It's the same agreement you’ve had with him last year and the year before. In between the stores closure and opening, there are flirty texts and occasional fucks but nothing serious. Nothing that feels like...whatever the fuck this is.
With a loud groan, Kyle grinds his hips forward, sealing your bodies together. His lips part, and you dip your tongue inside to taste him. Together, your connected bodies feel as one. There is no beginning or end here. There is only simple knowledge of pleasure.
Kyle returns your kisses. Each softer than the last. His arms circle to your waist and then lift, bringing you to an upright position. Dragging you to the edge of the desk, Kyle keeps himself firmly inside you, as if unwilling to part just yet.
He goes in for another kiss. This one on your lips. The next, your cheek.
"Need another shift covered?" he asks.
His heat is nice. Comforting. "Not at the moment."
"Pity," he croons, seeking yet another.
This time it deepens, becoming hot and heavy all over again.
"We don't have to do this, Kyle."
He presses his lips to your exposed shoulder. "What do you mean?"
"We could just...do this. We don't have to do all the other stuff."
"All the other stuff?" he grins.
You punch his shoulder and his smile only widens. "You interested in that, love? In me?" There is a hint of hope in his voice.
"What if I am?" you counter, matching his smile.