"You think I enjoy doing this? That cleaning random people's cars and offering them flags—as if every other person were some lousy patriot—is my hobby?!" Yet another exhausting day of running around, topped off by inhuman heat that completely drains one's sweat glands, had driven Tomá to a silent rage. At least until he took it out on Alex, who was watching the whole scene with supreme calm and a polite smile—at least on the surface. He could have fooled anyone else, but not Tomá. The young men knew each other's tricks so well that if, by some chance, in some alternate universe, they swapped bodies, hardly anyone would be able to tell the difference. At least until Tomá found a reason to blow his top—and there were plenty of those, especially when Alex was at the center of it all. It had always been that way, and it always would be.
Once the tirade—a mix of snake venom and cyanide—finally subsided, not for any reason except that Tomá was mentally running through the list of reasons to yell at his current employer, who had once been his closest friend, Alex rose from his chair behind the simple and neatly organized desk with a carefully measured movement. Like everything else about his image, it was also well maintained. "We've already discussed this issue. If my memory serves me correctly, this is…" he paused briefly, "the twenty-third time your presence has warmed up the atmosphere in my office." His comment was followed by a sarcastic smile—a gesture he had perfected, especially for those occasions when Tomá stormed into the workplace like a hurricane.
A hurricane—that was the perfect way to describe the young man. His rebellious temperament, his character—as easily ignited as dry twigs—and his exuberant nature, unnaturally contained within a shell of flesh and bone, could only be likened to the dangers of a natural disaster.
Tomá, or the so-called "hurricane," slammed his palms against the wooden surface holding all the company's important documents. Yet another typical gesture, one often shared between the two. "How long do you plan to make fun of me?!" His voice rose so high that through the open window, one could easily hear every word clearly, even from across the street.
"I don't think money earned honestly is a joke," came Alex's calm reply.
"You know what I'm talking about! There are thousands of other things I can do for you that don't involve people looking at me like I'm some good-for-nothing schmuck!"
"I've explained to you more than clearly why this is necessary..."
"Your explanations are complete nonsense! The position didn't even exist before I came to work for you, and you know that very well." Tomá's pride was obviously wounded.
Alex walked around the desk, prompting his unwilling subordinate to take a step back. "You were the one who came to me with financial difficulties." The red-haired man leaned against the wooden surface, inadvertently knocking over a neatly arranged stack of letters.
"I didn't ask for your help! I just shared my problems, like friends do. Or maybe you're already looking down on me and I'm not worthy of your friendship, old man?" Tomá bristled like a porcupine. He knew plenty of ways to throw Alex off the rails of propriety, and this one was particularly effective. Mentioning the age difference between them—however minimal it was—was, for some inexplicable reason, one of the redhead's Achilles' heels.
After a moment of silence, Alex smiled—an overly polite, frighteningly artificial smile. It was as if his lips were about to burst at the seams. The moment his friend took a step forward, completely closing the distance between them, a wave of unease washed over Tomá, followed by an icy shiver down his spine. Alex grabbed Tomá by the shoulders, spun him around, and forced him face-down onto the pile of papers on the desk, pinning him down with the weight of his body.
"The fuck do you think you're doing?!" He tried to break free from the other's grip, but to no avail.
Alex was taller, and although neither of them was known for impressive musculature in their slender, youthful bodies, his boss possessed something more—something that didn't require physical strength to assert dominance over others. "I'm disciplining my subordinate. What else could it be?" he asked calmly, his grip not loosening for even a second.
"Let me go, you bastard!" Tomá tossed about like a ship on a stormy day, but his posture remained exactly the same. Before he could unleash a barrage of curses, he was cut off right at the start. Instead, a moan of surprise mixed with shock flew from his lips like a newly hatched bird. "You…"
Alex's hand was caressing the firm buttocks he'd just unceremoniously slapped with two rhythmic slaps—one on each cheek.
"Get away... Get away from me right now, you old pervert!" Tomá made yet another futile attempt to break free, glaring at his friend with hatred.
The vein above Alex's temple bulged visibly. His smile grew a notch more sinister. Tomá was walking on extremely thin, cracked ice. One more wrong step and he'd freeze to death at the bottom of the icy waters.
"Verbal insubordination and insulting a superior. How disappointing." Alex recited dryly. With a single motion, he pulled Tomá's gray jeans down, exposing the bare flesh. It was now his turn to be surprised. "You call me a pervert, but you're the one not wearing underwear."
The young man with caramel-blond hair stammered, trying both to hide his embarrassment and express his anger. "I can't stand wearing underwear in this unbearable heat!" He shouted with a trembling voice, as if that explanation could defuse the situation. To his even greater horror, Alex's ringing laughter echoed through the office. "What the hell is so funny?!"
Once the fit of laughter had finally subsided, the redhead refocused on the scene before him. "You've always been like this. How nostalgic."
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Tomá's pupils dilated in horror the moment he felt, right there between his exposed flesh, the weight of a bulge wrapped in black fabric, hidden behind a formal suit and radiating body heat. "NO!" Have you lost your mind?!? Don't you dare!
His protests were cut short by the three fingers that forced their way past his lips, traveled down his tongue, and touched the tip of his palate. Tomá choked and instinctively bit down on the intruders. They, in turn, continued their expedition completely unperturbed, collecting a considerable amount of saliva along the way. As soon as they finally left the confines of the foreign body, Tomá coughed violently.
"I didn't think you were a fan of blood, but if that's what you prefer…" His fingers weren't actually bleeding, but his subordinate had no way of noticing that at the very moment. One of the intruders in question had discovered a new spot to explore—a spot that made the young man's blood run cold.
"What the hell are you doing, you bastard!"
"If you keep thrashing around like that, it's going to hurt… a lot," Alex muttered in a steady voice.
Tomá swallowed audibly and tried to calm his body, which, despite everything, continued to tremble.
"I knew you could be obedient too," the redhead praised him, his finger tracing a small circle around the hot flesh. Tomá closed his eyes and clenched his fists.
Before long, the first finger was followed by a second, and then a third. The vibrations of the body beneath Alex grew with every passing second—seconds that felt far too long for Tomá. As soon as the three fingers arched inside him, the blonde man trembled even more uncontrollably.
"If you're going to do something…" He cleared his parched throat. "...just do it and get it over with..." His earlier discontent seemed to have melted away, replaced by indifference, which didn't sit well with Alex at all.
"It won't be much of a punishment if the offender doesn't repent for his actions." "He said as he pondered how to rekindle the fire in Tomá. And then it occurred to him. "I shall give you a different position." He pulled his fingers out of the pleasant warmth. "But I'll want something in return."
"Of course you would…" Tomá muttered through clenched teeth. "What do you want?"
Alex smirked and turned Tomá onto his back. "You're going to hold your ankles with your hands, just like this." He demonstrated by adjusting one of Tomá's hands. "You're going to show me everything so that even the tiniest detail of your tight ass is perfectly visible. And then you're going to beg me to punish you for your mistakes." Alex stroked Tomá's chin possessively; Tomá's expression was one of utter shock.
"You're crazy! You're completely out of your mind! You perverted bastard!" The blond guy yelled again and pushed Alex's hand away but didn't move from the desk.
His boss smiled smugly, satisfied that he had reignited the spark of defiance in Tomá. That made everything far more satisfying. "Do you accept my condition?" he asked with a knowing look—a look convinced of his victory.
Tomá's dark irises shot searing arrows into the body of the man standing before him. He clenched his teeth, slid his hands behind his ankles, lifted his buttocks just enough to elicit an approving smile from Alex, and in a drawn-out, visibly disgusted tone, spat out the following words. "Shove your fucking…" He began but stopped short, noticing the change in Alex's expression. The damn bastard expected him to utter the most shameful words of his life and actually dared to take pleasure in it! "I want…" he swallowed painfully. "Just stick it in me, damn it!"
Alex chuckled softly. "Such unerotic words." Contrary to what he'd said, his arousal was still just as visible and couldn't stand any further delay. With well-rehearsed gestures, as if he were at home relaxing after a long day at work, Alex unbuckled his belt and let it fall to the floor with a loud clatter. The tight grip of the fabric loosened, and the black barrier revealed... yet another black barrier, detailing his size and shape.
"Could you be any more boring than that, you fucking pervert?" Tomá couldn't hold back and made a vulgar comment about his friend's fashion choices.
"At least I'm not an exhibitionist." Alex returned the gesture and settled himself between the wide-spread legs.
"I told you, it's because of this damn heat!" Tomá stood his ground.
"Of course." Alex smirked, tearing open a colorful packet with his teeth and sliding its contents along his entire length.
"At least your taste in condoms is more normal…" Tomá muttered irritably, but his expression quickly changed as the spot, still sensitive from Alex's earlier assault, was about to endure the same intrusive sensation, only many times stronger and more dangerous.
"Be thankful I took the trouble to use a condom." Alex penetrated him with a few powerful thrusts.
Tomá's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounded wildly, and more beads of sweat formed on his back.
"Bas…tard..." "He managed to mumble, his breathing growing increasingly ragged.
"If I were in your shoes, I'd calm down and take a deep breath."
"But you're not… in my shoes!" Tomá retorted with a pained expression. "It hurts… damn it!
Alex lifted Toma's T-shirt and ran a hand over the muscles of his flat stomach, which were now tight as a knot. "If I were in your shoes—he repeated—I'd follow my advice."
"Damn you!" Tomá cursed, but for his own good, he made a far from successful attempt to calm down and breathe in and out at a normal rhythm. Gradually, the effort paid off, and the tension around Alex eased considerably, giving him more freedom of movement. He took advantage of it without hesitation. As soon as he felt the inevitable thrusts, Tomá covered his eyes with his hand, praying that it would end quickly.
"Look at me," Alex commanded with marked firmness in his voice. Tomá didn't obey. "I said, 'Look at me," his voice could have frozen even melting ice.
Tomá pulled his hand away, revealing eyes that were brimming with anger and a hint of tears. A sight that doubled Alex's arousal. His gaze reflected that change, judging by the blond's next words. "Sadistic asshole."
An iceberg versus an icy whirlwind, with burning heat at the center. Which would prevail? Sooner or later, it would become clear. Alex's increasingly impatient and insatiable thrusts were bursting with the desire to shake his subordinate to his core, to break him—but not too much—to bend him to his rhythm without completely stripping him of his strong will. That was precisely why he wrapped his fingers around Tomá's rudely uninterested cock.
"Don't… touch me there!" The sharp retort came immediately, met with a smile in response.
"This is an extreme display of disrespect toward me and my methods for disciplining the staff."
"If you punish everyone this way, it's no wonder you have such a bad reputation, old man."
Whether unconsciously or not entirely so, whether somewhere deep beneath the thousands of layers, Tomá understood the impact of his words—he would never admit it. In any case, he received clear confirmation in the form of blank spots in his memory as soon as his senses and perceptions, already heightened by the situation, were subjected to a double assault. Alex's fingers moved with practiced dexterity, the hands of someone who knew this intimate area all too well. Against his will, the blond man's body yielded and reacted without fail. Even his nerve endings relaxed to such an extent that they completely surrendered control to Alex. Pleasure reared its head, pushing the pain aside and transforming it beyond recognition. Tomá shook his head in denial, refusing to accept what was happening, but it was already a fact. He let out involuntary moans in a voice unfamiliar to him. His body bounced like a spring-loaded toy. Document after document rained down onto the floor like leaves, signaling the approach of climax. The chaos reigning over the always immaculate furniture, the chaos in the movements of the ever-restrained Alex, and the chaos in the feelings of the ever-introverted Tomá—all of it erupted in a dazzling fireworks display of sweaty bodies and bodily fluids.
Alex reluctantly left the cramped space, which had opened up to him as welcomingly as a sunflower to the sun—albeit only briefly. He tied the condom into a neat knot and tossed it into the small trash can next to the desk. Out of the corner of his eye, he sensed two unfocused eyes following his movements.
"Maybe you'd have preferred me to come inside you?" he teased, knowing full well what answer would follow.
"Fuck you..." Tomá replied quietly, still struggling to process what had happened.
"With all due respect, you're a little late." The redhead leaned over him. "I already fucked you."
Tomá kicked him hard in the stomach and shoved him away, trying to get to his feet without losing his balance. He quickly pulled his jeans on. Alex watched him with a hand on his stomach, but the same playful sparkles continued to dance in his eyes. "Don't be late for work tomorrow," he said casually, with an "innocent" smile.
"Go to…" Instead of finishing the sentence, Tomá bit his lip and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
Alex gathered himself and the scattered paperwork and, as if he'd pressed a "rewind" button, restored everything to its previous state with particular care and concentration. He took his seat behind the wooden desk and chuckled to himself, which gradually turned into hearty laughter. He wasn't sure how long he'd wanted Tomá this way, and now that he'd finally achieved it, the very thought that he might taste that temptation again—as long as he played his cards right and remained patient—gave new strength to the laughter filling the office's silence. The image of the blond-haired man moaning uncontrollably was etched into his mind. The black fabric shifted almost imperceptibly.