Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As night descended, stars began to twinkle in the sky, resembling silver glitter strewn across a dark canvas. The full moon glowed like a pearl in a deep ocean, casting light into the guest bedroom like a theatrical spotlight. You could feel a refreshing breeze flow through the cracked window, making the light curtains sway gently. The soft breeze caressed your legs as you lay across the massive bed. It was uncomfortably quiet in the bedroom. In truth, the vast house was completely silent throughout, with only a rare thump echoing from behind the walls, which you assumed was the old home settling.

You are currently house-sitting for an elderly couple who have chosen to escape the realities of life and retreat to a tranquil setting. Although you were working, you felt as if you were indulging in a vacation within the luxurious mansion. There was no denying that the family came from a place of wealth. The estate featured not just extensive land but also an interior adorned with exquisite paintings and luxurious furniture. Although the house was portrayed as wealthy and contented, the atmosphere was heavy and sorrowful. The elderly couple had lost their son, Brahms, many years prior. Remembering the story caused you to squirm beneath the thin sheets. You wondered how heartbreaking it must have been to lose someone so young.

The sorrowful story weighed heavily on your heart, justifying your responsibility for a doll they considered their son. You opened your eyes to find the stare of a life-sized, formally dressed porcelain doll. Its lifeless hazel eyes observed you as you contemplated the notion that people experience grief in various ways. You turn away from the doll, unable to confront its uncanny appearance. The wind howled in your ears, contributing to yet another reason you couldn’t drift into a deep slumber. Another thump echoed behind the wall, causing you to jolt in fear. However, this time felt different—it was louder. You sit up in bed, leaning against the elegantly crafted headboard, the coolness of the wood sending a shiver down your spine. As you scan the room, you wait for the thud to sound again, and when it does, it seems closer than before.

You quickly shove the sheets aside and pull down the oversized shirt you wore to bed. The soles of your feet touch the wooden floor that creaked as you stood up. Palms sweaty, you creep toward the bedroom door, fearing someone might be on the other side. The rhythmic beat of your heart plays like a haunting melody. With each step, the tune grows louder and clearer. Apprehension becomes a master composer. With deliberate motion, your hand grasps the doorknob, and without a moment's pause, you swing the door open. There's nothing there. As you step into the hallway, you glance in both directions. Still, nothing. For a fleeting moment, you start to wonder if you're hallucinating or possibly sleepwalking. Exhaling deeply, you pivot and head back into the room. Quickly reaching behind the door to shut it, but something prevents it from closing all the way.

You turned to see a tall figure in the doorway, his hand firmly holding the door to stop it from separating the two of you. Overwhelmed by fear, you stumbled back, trying to create distance between yourself and the masked man. You found yourself unable to form sentences, and even a cry for help remained stuck in your throat, paralyzed by the sight of the imposing figure. He entered the room, forcefully shutting the door behind him. As he approached, you instinctively moved further away. His heavy footsteps quickened, echoing with intent. He was determined to confront the woman residing in the house. You reached the bed and fell onto it, feeling the firmness of the mattress beneath you. Your fingers clawed at the sheets, producing an eerie tearing sound against your nails.

“Please don’t kill me." You pleaded.

The man entered the ethereal glow of the moonlight, basking in his moment of focus. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, introducing a new interpretation of hyperventilation. The tremors of your breath harmonized with the gentle breeze that cooled the room. He stood before you, and while your words lingered in your throat, his were concealed by a mask. Both of you stared at each other in silence for what seemed like ages. There was something familiar about the man, as if you had encountered him before. The sheen of his dark hair shone in the brilliant moonlight, with each curl precisely arranged like the feathers of a raven. He was broad and strong, reminiscent of the formidable bird. The silent staring match ended as he stepped closer, causing you to grip the silky sheets more tightly. As he started to kneel before you, you tilted your head in curiosity, pondering the man’s intentions. His gloomy eyes looked up at you. A strand of hair obscured one eye, hindering clear vision. You swallowed hard, observing his noticeable chest rise, accompanied by a deep, enticing groan escaping his lips.

Momentarily, you had forgotten that the masked man was invading your space as you continued to indulge in his appearance. You found yourself admiring the warmth of his quilted sweater, a piece you desired to possess. The sight of his white t-shirt subtly highlighting the fine chest hair you longed to touch was captivating. Releasing your tight grip on the sheets, you feel your hand uncontrollably gravitate toward his firm chest, but you stop yourself. You recalled where you had previously seen his face, where your eyes had met before tonight’s intense encounter. It was him. It was…

“Brahms?” You said quizzically.

He let out a soft groan as if he were delighted by your realization. You gently placed your hand on his mask, sensing the coarse texture of his beard concealed beneath it. As you glance at the clock on the end table by the bed, you realize Brahms is still awake well past his bedtime.

“You should be asleep.” You said. “Are you ready for bed?”

He leaned into your warm touch, enchanted by human connection. It was hard to believe that Brahms had been living in the house all this time. The relentless thumping behind the walls and the creaking of the floorboards made it clear—Brahms was the one occupying this space, too. His eyes softened at the sight of a comforting smile on your face. Nodding his head, he agrees to being laid to rest.

You reach for his hands as you both stand up from your seated positions. After pushing back the covers, you tuck Brahms in. His brawny figure disappears behind the sheets as you bring them up to his chest and smooth them, feeling the stockiness in his pectorals. Although he was silent, his eyes conveyed a lot. They sparkled softly with an apologetic glimmer as he looked up at you, seemingly saying, “Sorry for scaring you.”

You accepted his apology with a delicate kiss on his forehead. Just as you were about to walk to the other side of the bed, he clasped your wrist firmly.

“I’m not going anywhere, Brahms." You reassured him.

"Kiss." He pleaded, his voice breaking in a way that truly broke your heart.

Leaning in closer, you press your lips against the cold surface of his mask, offering him a goodnight kiss. A soft whimper slips from his lips, as if this moment was a necessary comfort for him.

“Goodnight, Brahms.” You smiled.

Lying on the opposite side of the bed, you allow ample space for him to sleep comfortably. You ponder how long his family kept him away from the world, shielding him from any human interaction. It seemed that tonight, he had reached his breaking point and could no longer stay concealed behind these walls. You turn your attention away from him and look out the window at the moon, seeking refuge from the cold breeze that cuts through the space between you. Unexpectedly, a warmth envelops you, offering more comfort than the blanket. Like a magnet, Brahms effortlessly draws closer, wrapping his strong arm around you to bring you nearer.

In that moment, you hadn't realized your lack of human touch and the yearning for a protector. As you sank into the bed, pressing against Brahms, you found a sense of tranquility accompanied by deeper feelings… desire. You grasped his arm, pulling it tightly against your chest. Brahms shudders as he feels your breasts against him. His hand glided over the fabric of your shirt, evoking a sense of warmth and comfort. Your nipples erect immediately when you feel his palm cupping the fullness of your breasts. Suddenly, his dick began to thicken with an intense arousal, and he pushed himself firmly onto your ass.

"Brahms." You moaned. His touch became more passionate and intentional. Kneading your soft breasts as if they were fresh dough, eager to be savored. You could feel your clit pulsing with an overbearing sensation of lust. The longer he teased you, the more your body craved satisfaction from this erotic hunger. Brahms' breathing grew rapid as his hand slid beneath your t-shirt like a daring snake. He couldn’t help but touch the softness of your skin, which felt like the silk sheets beneath you both. Brahms began thrusting into you delicately, letting his swell cock rub along your underwear.

He felt so near, yet so distant. All you longed for was fulfillment on this restless night. A significant fulfillment that you believed you could manage. Hungrily, you slid down your underwear, which slipped from your hands as Brahm quickly snatched them away from you. His arm vanishes behind you as the sound of his pants unzipping breaks the silence of the night. In an instant, his hand grips your delicate neck, preventing you from breathing easily. His grip was astonishing for a self-proclaimed homebody. His fingers pressed into the velvety skin of your neck, prompting you to part your lips slightly for a breath of air.

His cock gradually pushes past your entrance, and slowly, your body holds him like a warm embrace. In an instant, his dick throbs at the beautiful sensation that is you. He had been observing you from behind the walls, envisioning what it would be like to be with the woman he longed for. Whenever you left a room, he would come out of the secret passage behind the wall to inhale the scent of the sheets infused with your fragrance. He’d press the sheets against his broad chest, captivated by the sweet, delicate scent of you, desperately whimpering in agony as he couldn’t bear another day suppressing his urge to fuck you. Taking in another inhale of the sheets, his dick would harden, and he couldn’t stop himself from freeing his erection from his restricting briefs. While you were obliviously attending to another part of the mansion, he had your fragrance wrapped around his cock and unashamedly used the sheet to fuck himself to your aroma.

Now living in a fantasy, he yearned to make a reality. With a few melodic strokes, Brahms ignited a passionate tempest of arousal between your legs that began to send him into a touch-starved typhoon. His breath quickened like the howling winds of a storm, while his grunts echoed like boisterous thunder rumbling in the clouds. The entirety of his hand covered your neck as he fucked you harder. The sounds of your gasping breaths accompanied the rhythmic sounds of Brahms' pelvis crashing into your ass.

“Ahh, Brahms.” You choked. Your eyes rolled back as your surroundings faded away. A shadowed vignette appeared at the corner of your eyes as Brahms kept his hold of you. Your body submitted to his starving touch. The evidence became clear as your thighs became submerged with your arousal, causing everything to feel wet, slippery, and deliciously sensational.

Brahms whimpers into your ear, keeping his steady grip on your neck. His cock begins to pulse inside of you, aching to release a feeling you weren't sure Brahms had ever felt before.

“Don’t leave.” Brahms pleaded. “Please, don’t leave me.”

He grasped your neck firmly while pleading for you to always stay by his side. Just as you both craved human connection, you both yearned to never endure a life of isolation.

“I’ll always be here, Brahms.” You remarked, your voice muffled as he gripped your throat, silencing you.

Your lungs were in overdrive as you struggled to breathe. Brahms' grip felt as if he wanted to take not just your body, but your life as well. However, you knew he wouldn’t want you to leave, so you took a deep breath. His passionate fucking overshadowed his self-restraint. He held on tighter, as if he were desperately trying to find your pulse.

He thrusts his hips quicker, burying his head in your hair, pressing his face into the strands like a cat inhaling its first scent of catnip. His intense need for you makes you feel truly seen and loved, making it hard to envision anyone else in Brahms' position. Once you become overwhelmed with bliss, all your gratifying emotions are pinpointed to your clit. Reaching down with your hand, you massage it and with only a few gentle, intricate circles upon its swelling, you unravel underneath the dazzling spotlight of the moon that witnessed this arbitrary moment.

“Ahhh, Brahms. You’re such a good boy.” You moaned, releasing a wave of overwhelming excitement.

“I am?” He whined.

You turned your head to look at him, his hand maintaining its firm grip. “Of course you are.”

His bright eyes gazed down at you with empathy. Beneath this quiet demeanor lay a person longing for a profound bond. He observed how his veiny hand wrapped around your slender neck, anchoring you in place. You couldn’t leave even if you wanted to; he wouldn’t let you. He shoved himself inside of you continuously, and with each thrust, his hair became disheveled, each curl falling from its place.

“I’m a good boy.” He whimpered, uttering it into reality.

He pressed his nails into your neck, causing you to hear only the pounding of your elevated heartbeat. Brahm's forehead gently rested against yours as his body convulsed uncontrollably against you. Just like that day he jerked off to the smell of you on the sheets, he came long and hard. You could feel the warmth of his cum spilling inside of you and planting the seed of an infinite bond. Brahms trembled while he pulled his semi-hard dick from your sensitive entrance, anticipating its feel again. At last, he loosened his grip on your neck, and you'd never again underestimate the act of breathing. You inhale deeply, rubbing your neck, aware that Brahms's grip was strong enough to leave a bruise.

"Kiss?" Brahms asked courteously.

You smiled softly and cradled the back of Brahms's head, drawing him in for another tender kiss on his mask. As you both lay in the eerily quiet mansion, catching your breath, you concluded the evening with a warm embrace, realizing you were no longer trapped in your separate worlds of solitude.

Chapter Text

The music blared obnoxiously throughout the house, making the floors rumble like a life-threatening earthquake was taking place. People laughed, sang, and shouted over the blaring lyrics that filled the room. As the music notes carried you throughout the dance floor, your shoes fought to release themselves from the uncomfortably sticky floors. Overly intoxicated partygoers spilled their drinks as they tried to multitask between dancing and overindulging in alcohol. As you danced in your own world, someone nearby suddenly started vomiting, adding to the mess on the floor. A mix of gratitude and disgust washed over you. Grateful that you weren’t the one hosting this party, but disgusted by some people's lack of control. Losing your desire to dance, you decided to leave the now overwhelming scene and retreat to a calm bedroom upstairs.

People lounged against the wall, sharing hushed conversations or sloppy kisses. The bathroom door was open, and as you walked by, you noticed a group of girls supporting a friend who was regurgitating her troubles. Her head disappeared into the toilet as the grimacing sound of her vomiting echoed inside the bowl. As you approached another door, you grasped the doorknob, but before stepping inside, the seductive melody of a woman’s moans, slightly drowned out by the loud music playing downstairs, reached your ears. You laughed and stepped back from the door, moving deeper into the space until you discovered an empty room. After closing the door behind you, you exhaled in relief, grateful for this quiet sanctuary to unwind. The bed was impeccably made, with sheets neatly tucked and pillows arranged just right. You kicked off your shoes, perched on the edge of the bed, and then flopped onto the pleasantly firm mattress.

Just as you were about to sink into the perfect mattress, the door swung open, bringing in a rush of loud music, and you jumped in surprise at the sight of someone else trying to escape the chaos. A man in a Michael Myers costume quickly shut the door, restoring calm to the bedroom. He stood out with his impressive height and strength. His jumpsuit fit his physique flawlessly. The pale, emotionless white mask stared quietly at you, an unbroken silence hanging between you that almost served as a translator.

“Tired of this party too?” You joked nervously.

He remained silent, standing at the door as if to prevent your escape. The obscure holes in his mask, where his eyes should have been, scrutinized you intently. He took in every detail of your form, admiring both its craftsmanship and delicate nature. He had been watching you all night long: the sway of your hips, the mountains of your breasts, and the slight reveal of your ass that peeked out from your costume. What he loved most, however, was your mouth.

“Are you alright?" Your chest heaved. Anxiety surged in your mind, diminishing the effects of your alcohol.

He continued to gaze wordlessly at you, concentrating on your lips as you talked and admired their fullness. Throughout the night, he felt as if he had arrived at the party with you, staying closer than you might have known. Like a dog with separation anxiety, he couldn’t bear to be far from you. All night, he acted as your shadow, captivated by your lovely smile, as though he were wandering through an art gallery. Every move you made, he mocked them, staying close within your proximity, ensuring that no one would harm you, but also that no one would have you. Everything about you belonged to him, although you didn't know that yet.

“Are you going to fucking speak, or will you just stand there?” You asked, rising from the bed.

Michael tilted his head, narrowing the gap between the two of you. Each footstep reverberated loudly, as if the floor struggled to support the weight of his heel pressing down. Despite his ominous, commanding presence, you stood firm, maintaining your posture when he drew near enough for you to get a glimpse of shimmer in his eyes. Yet, his pupils remained concealed like bats in a dark cave, hidden and unnoticeable.

“Should I feel threatened by you?” You smirked as you continued to confront the quiet man.

A gentle nudge barely shifted his body, leaving him still as if he were a mannequin. The unexpressed thoughts he never voiced made you question your reality. Was this interaction even happening? Could it be that every intoxicating substance you consumed led you to imagine Michael Myers standing in the room? Yet, his chest felt as hard as a rock, confirming that a man was indeed present with you. The broadness of his chest made your hand feel as light as paper, but this time, rock defeated paper.

“I see you’re truly going to embody your character.” You said, lowering your gaze to admire his impressive form.

He nodded in agreement, fully aware he wouldn’t say a thing. You never quite grasp the unspoken gestures of serial killers, but you believe actions often convey more than words. The enigma of the man sparked your desire to uncover his identity and discover what else he had to reveal.

“Did you come all the way up here just to stare?” You asked, gazing up at the mask devoid of emotion. His body language offered no clues either, as he stood there seemingly indifferent to everything around him.

He kept his thoughts to himself, uncertain how to approach anyone, especially the stunning woman he had been watching all night. His hand slowly reached toward your face, admiring every characteristic of your exquisite beauty. He understood there was more to this glorious holiday, Halloween. It was more than just costumes and horror films. Above all, he wouldn’t leave a house without obtaining his treat. A soft groan escaped the shy man's lips as he gently traced his thumb along your bottom lip. His deep groan caused a whirlwind of butterflies to flutter wildly in your stomach. Their stunning wings leave you disoriented and overwhelmed by the sway of his thumb brushing against your lips. You pushed aside the reality that this man burst into the room, insisting on your full attention. Instead, you allowed your curiosity to lead the way.

As his thumb caressed your lips again, you parted your mouth, guiding his thumb inside while your tongue explored his velvety skin. You observed his chest rise with excitement, and without hesitation, he pressed his thumb against your tongue, making your mouth open wide. His head tilts innocently, as if he is surprised that you are allowing him to adore your pretty mouth. Like a doctor, he steps closer, observing the inside of your mouth. With his height, you tilted up towards him, letting him witness how wide you could open your mouth. He loved watching you try to open your mouth wider as he pressed down harder on your tongue. Despite your jaw tiring from the weight of his hand, you manage to stay put.

He pulls away, and you notice that although he isn’t a man of few words, he possesses other significant qualities. His dick protruded from his jumpsuit, showcasing his intense erection. The girth on him was the thickest you’d ever seen.

“Are you going to say what you want?” You remarked, gliding your hand over his erection. “Or would you prefer I demonstrate?"

You continuously ran the palm of your hand along his shaft, feeling it pulse as it ached to be released from his jumpsuit. In that moment, you realized he wouldn’t say anything to you, but at least you understood what his mind was conveying as his body responded. He quickly unzipped his jumpsuit, exposing the pallor of his skin. You watched for an inappropriately long time, marveling at the strength of his upper body. As you guide your hands over his chest, you notice his breath quickening as your touch moves down to his abdomen. His body tenses, leading his muscles to contract.

“Nonverbal and ticklish?” You chuckled.

Before you can admire his body again, he seizes your wrists and holds them in place. In one swift motion, he gestures to the ground, urging you to kneel. Following instructions, you settle in front of him, meeting his lifeless stare. His dick springs from his jumpsuit as he pushes it down. Its tip is slightly flushed with a rosy pink while it leaked precum. Slowly, you approach his massive cock, holding it firmly and feeling the vastness of his girth.

“Holy shit.” You mumbled.

The initial moments spent watching him felt as if you were observing a mythical creature. His size was extraordinary and quite intimidating. You begin stroking him softly, feeling the details of his veins as his dick becomes overbearingly hard. The silkiness of his skin made your mouth salivate with every excruciatingly slow stroke you gave him. His breath trembled, and his mind was filled with vile thoughts that would only be between him and his creator. You parted your lips, and with only the tip in your mouth, you knew he’d be a lot to handle. With impatience, he grabbed the back of your head and propelled himself forward, slipping himself past your beautifully warm mouth. The gratifying sensation of your mouthwatering tongue sent him into an overdrive that made him push further, even if there was no more room for your mouth to give. Your slippery saliva coated every inch of him as he finally made himself comfortable in the tightness of your agape mouth. His trimmed pubes tickled the front of your nose. While your eyes shut tightly as they began to water. He was so large he might as well have been choking you with his own hands.

He releases you momentarily, which triggers a fit of coughing. Out of nowhere, you sense a strong grip on your chin and look up to encounter the bleak depths of his eyes. The intensity of his hold seems to convey that he believes you are capable of more. He holds the sides of your face, pushing his cock back into your mouth. Accompanying the muffled music that blared behind the door was the tune of his gratifying moan. He began to fuck your throat slowly to warm you up first. However, a gifted man like him managed to make a warm-up feel as though the workout had already begun. With each stroke, your mouth started to over-salivate, running down your chin and falling onto your lap.

Michael became ravenous the longer he felt the warm slickness of your mouth. In addition to the sounds of you choking onto his dick, he took pleasure in feeling like he had the power to kill you with something aside from his choice of weapon. With every strong thrust into the back of your throat, he grunted ferociously as he had been looking forward to enjoying his enticing treat all night. He eagerly awaited the moment when you'd finally choose to leave the chaotic scene downstairs. If you hadn't, he had a plan to follow you home and make his presence known there, but luckily enough, here you were alone in this room. All night, he watched whenever you parted your lips to take a sip of a drink, he’d caress the fabric of his jumpsuit where his erection was underneath, growing harder and thicker. Or when you’d smile blissfully as you danced to music, and before this throat fucking moment, the highlight of his night was when you sucked on the luscious lollipop that the host of the party insisted everyone have as a party favor.

Your scalp grew tender as his fingers dug into your hair, keeping your head firmly in place. As you looked up at him, you noticed his head tilting toward the dimmed lights. His biceps flexed while he held you tighter, refusing to release you anytime soon. His pecks pushed firmly against each other while he quickened his pace, fighting not to come so soon. The tip of his dick was treating your uvula like a punching bag, and with every forceful hit, your throat was being bruised as you became his slutty trick with an overbearing wet mouth for a treat. You brace yourself on his muscular thighs, digging your fingers into them. Unfazed by the minuscule strength behind your grasp and the need to gain composure, Michael continued to have his way with you.

Each thrust transforms him into a starved, desperate man. He got a kick out of hearing the sound of you struggling for air as he used your mouth to his liking. However, he also adored your determination and your ability to uphold yourself to his standard. He knew he’d reward you until the night vanished and morning appeared. Looking down at you, his eyes met with your weeping glare, and with a delicate swipe, he wiped away your tears before continuing with his treat. Testing your limits, he shoved himself into your mouth, holding you in your place. Your gag reflex was accepting the challenge, although you were seconds away from regurgitating every ounce of alcohol you had tonight. Shutting your eyes tightly, you breathe through your nose, squeezing his thighs while he presses himself further into your tender throat.

A deep growl came from him that sounded similar to a lion that’s finally gotten what it wanted. You, his prey in his grasp, surrendering to his dominance. He allows you a moment to breathe, and as he pulls his throbbing cock from your aching mouth, you watch drool become the string that keeps the two of you tied together. Looking into your eyes, he was amazed by the vision you were. The twinkle in your bold eyes that shone from the tears he created, the sounds of your breath like the calming breeze on nights like this, and most of all, the way your drool pooled from your mouth. You were a treat like no other. A limited addition of a delicacy he couldn't dare to part ways with.

He stuck two fingers in your mouth and watched as you did what he hoped. While you took care of his massive fingers, he began to masturbate as you both stared into each other's eyes. He couldn’t take the warmth of your tongue tickling the tips of his fingers. And with the seductive gaze that met his hidden eyes, he pumped himself faster, releasing a slight whimper. You grabbed his hand, pushing out his fingers and parting ways with them, leaving a gentle kiss.

“Why don’t you finish here?” You stick your tongue out, flicking it like a fish out of water. A widened smile shone on your face as he desperately grabbed the top of your head and pushed himself past your full lips. To him, your mouth felt like home—a place he wasn’t too familiar with, but he was sure it felt good and safe. It felt euphoric and calm. Thrusting harder, he entered his cozy nest, feeling that any moment you’d be welcoming him into a place he’d never want to leave.

His hands cradled your face, prompting you to meet his gaze. Maintaining eye contact, he observed as spit bubbles formed at the corners of your mouth, accompanied by the slick sounds of you drowning in your own saliva. You were the house everyone longed to visit on Halloween, with full-size candy bars and beautifully terrifying decorations. The home that ignited anticipation year after year, and because of that, he couldn't wait to revisit you again. Your moans resonated in the quiet bedroom, and he harmonized with you, drowning out the party music that was happening behind the closed door.

Grabbing his balls, you felt them tighten as you began to massage them. He vocalized his arousal, grunting loudly as you helped him reach his orgasm. Then, suddenly, you felt a continuous pulse in your mouth, and Michael’s thrusts gradually slowed as he indulged in the slightly rough sensation of your taste buds brushing along the skin of his shaft. The warmth of his cum filled your mouth, almost choking you just as your spit did, and as he pulled out, you were finally able to breathe as you quickly swallowed every ounce of him.

Unbeknownst to you, he smiled underneath his mask, aware that after tonight, it wouldn’t be his final visit. For him, Halloween was now a year-round affair.

Chapter Text

You were preparing a wonderful dinner for yourself and your husband, Sebastian Caine, who is a lead researcher in a government-sponsored invisibility program. He rarely brought his work home, so you were mostly unaware of his ongoing projects and what they involved. However, earlier in the day, he called to share that he had made a major breakthrough and wanted to show you. A wave of happiness replaced his usually arrogant and stern demeanor. His high-pitched voice felt unfamiliar to you. Even the faint chuckle from the other end of the line made your heart race. While his job stayed at the office, the transformation it was causing in Sebastian did not. He refused to discuss his secret project and the stress it brought him. His confrontational demeanor soaked into the relationship, becoming as uncomfortable as wet socks.

Now, you anticipate the arrival of a new man and look forward to the fresh attitude he will bring. You also ponder what the breakthrough might be. Was it yet another extension on a deadline, which usually meant great news for Sebastian? More time would give him a chance to test the significant project he was working on. However, his voice carried an exhilarating tone, indicating this was not another extension; instead, it was a mission accomplished. It was time to uncork the celebratory wine that had gathered dust, its richness intensifying the longer it remained unopened. You came out of your trance when the stove timer pierced your ears, causing your heart to leap with fear. Quickly, you slip on your oven mitts and retrieve the perfectly cooked meal. The savory aroma wafts through your nostrils, instantly sparking your appetite. Gently, you set the pan down on the counter, taking a moment to commend yourself for the successful dinner preparation. It was soon after you’d finished setting up the dinner table when you heard the front door open. Excitedly, you clapped as everything had turned out the way you envisioned it, and Sebastian had arrived just in time for the two of you to celebrate his good news.

“Y/N?” Sebastian called. The door closed shut before his steps emerged into the house further.

“In the kitchen!” You called out. You quickly untied your apron and draped it on the kitchen counter. Smoothing out your dress, you tried to guess what Sebastian wanted to say. From the moment he walked in, you could tell he was in a good mood. The relief that hit you was unexpected. No longer dreading the familiar sound of his footsteps after a tough day at work, you felt a rush of excitement with every step he took towards you.

“First, you have to cover your eyes.” He said before stepping into the kitchen. Although his voice sounded like he was right there, you couldn't see him.

“Okay.” You said, smiling so wide it made your cheeks ache. As you reached up to cover them, all you saw was the darkness between your eyes and your palms. Sebastian's scent filled the air, his body closing in behind you. It was an earthy smell, a richness that made you feel like you were lost in the deepest, greenest part of the forest.

“You did all this for me?” He asked, his voice soft and full of gratitude. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close for a tight hug. This touch was different from any other time you'd been with him. His arms, like a boa constrictor, tightened around you, slowly exploring every curve of your abdomen and waist.

“Yes.” You moaned. “Can I uncover my eyes?”

Sebastian left a kiss on your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine. You imagined he could see the tiny bumps spreading across your arms like you’d become a freshly picked strawberry. He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume before kissing your shoulder again.

“Not yet.” He said, and you could tell he was smiling in response.

His hands ascend your body, cupping your breasts like he was kneading dough. Each gentle squeeze and caress was made with intention. Your nipples rose as the heat of his palms began to conjure a sense of sexual desire. The heaviness of his breath tickled your neck as his touch deepened. This was unearthly—this loving demeanor he was showing toward you. Most nights, you appeared like pristine glass, he’d seen through effortlessly and without emotion. But tonight, you were truly visible, and he was determined to make sure you felt that acknowledgment.

“Sebastian?” You whimpered.

“Yes?” He asked, his hands descending to your stomach. He squeezes you, appreciating every carefully crafted part of your body. Sebastian’s victory made him realize how much he’d pushed you away, and he hated himself for it. Tonight, you were a statue he’d worship in his museum. A sculpture he’d handle with delicacy.

You smiled through your slight whimpers, thrilled by his touch. “What happened today?”

With your sight hindered, all your other senses were heightened. His touch felt beautifully unbearable. It was so perfect and so arousing, but the torture was overwhelming, and you needed him more than ever. You could tell the feeling was mutual with the huskiness of each groan he released as he touched you like he’d never felt a woman’s body before.

“That project I’ve been stressed about,” he paused. “We had a huge success today.”

“Congratulations!” You cheered and began to lower your hands, but your actions made Sebastian quickly retract his.

“Thank you, Y/N," he replied. "Although I don’t remember saying you could uncover your eyes.”

“I’m sorry." You smiled. You were genuinely intrigued by this new game he was trying and looked forward to his approach.

“I would never have done any of this without you.” He says. “You’ve taken care of me, and I’ve been undeserving of your love.”

“Sebastian?” You said softly, tinged with sorrow.

“Tonight I want to celebrate this success by honoring you.” He kissed your neck, trailing his tongue along the smoothness of your skin.

“What about the food?” You asked, though your appetite had waned. Instead, you started to crave something else Sebastian could provide.

“My hunger is something that food couldn’t appease.” He grabbed your waist, turning you toward him, and pressed your body against the countertop.

“Uncover your eyes.” He demanded.

You followed his instructions, but when your eyes revealed what was in front of you. Sebastian was not one of them.

“Sebastian?” You called out.

“I’m right here.” He chuckled.

Your eyebrow quirked with uncertainty. Whipping your head around the kitchen, you searched for where he could have been hiding within the space. His voice was near, but his body wasn’t. Suddenly, you felt a tickle on your abdomen and couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably.

“What the hell?” you said, gasping for breath between each core-engaging laugh. “Sebastian?”

He stopped and took a step back, so you assumed. “It worked.”

“Oh my goodness. You are…” You followed the sound of his voice and reached toward him. “Invisible.”

Reaching into the empty space, you search for his face. Your hands seem to grasp at thin air, but there was actually something there—Sebastian. As you feel his face, you notice the smooth skin, his chiseled jawline, and the plumpness of his lips. Moving down his body, you extend your hands as if exploring him in the dark, trying to determine if everything about him remains unchanged, despite not being able to see.

“Looking for something?” Sebastian hurriedly grabbed your exploratory hands, wrapping them behind your back as he arrested you for excessively touching him. While he continued to restrain your hands, he guided you to the counter. Quickly, he latched onto your waist, and with grace, he lifted you up. Appalled by how quickly things were happening, you couldn’t seem to catch your breath. Hyperventilating while being lifted by the thin air. Am I flying? Is this a dream? You couldn’t believe this was all happening before your eyes. You watched as your dress seemed to move by itself, lifting inch by inch, sliding up your waist. Sebastian’s unseen hands pulled on your underwear, making you lift your hips until you saw the lacy fabric gradually slip down your legs.

His fingers dig into your thighs, and you continue watching him, becoming completely aroused by this surprise and intrigued by what his next move will be. Slithering up your body, his hands pull down the thin straps of your dress and cup the fullness of your bare breasts. It was interesting to see how they looked when he cupped them in his hands to fondle them. They moved softly and gently in circles as he continued to massage them. Everything may not have appeared the same, but his warm touch, in fact, did.

“Ahh. Sebastian.” You relaxed your hands onto the cool countertop, pushing out your chest to the touch you’ve missed so desperately. Sebastian tugged on your nipples, applying the perfect pressure between his fingers.

“I’ve missed touching you. It’s been way too long.” He shudders desperately. “How could I have ever denied you?”

Your body jolted with surprise as you suddenly felt his tongue flicking along your nipples. Leaving trails of wet, sloppy kisses against your cool skin. He continued with his pattern of nipple teasing. Lick, nibble, and caress. Until you felt one of his hands release from your body.

“Fuck. I’m so hungry for you, sweetheart.” He whimpered.

Suddenly, you see a trail of spit hanging in thin air, leading to the tip of his invisible dick. With a few long-drawn-out strokes, there it was, coated with his saliva and dripping with precum. Even with the invisibility, you still could see the unique details of his dick. The pathway of his veins as his erection grew greater. An alluring smile uncontrollably spread across your face at the inconceivable sight.

“God, you are a beauty.” Sebastian released an amused huff, still continuing to stroke his now recognizable erection.

“Does that mean I don’t get to be invisible, Dr. Caine?” You joked.

“Can’t risk missing the chance to see you," he said, briefly brushing against you before giving you a peck on the cheek. "That wouldn’t be right.”

He tapped your thigh twice, signaling that he wanted you to open your legs. And as you opened yourself up to the empty space, you anticipated the warmth of his mouth. The amount of time that has passed since you last felt him is indescribable. Your sex life was like watching sand slip through the narrow neck of an hourglass into the emptiness of the other glass bulb. Until you had to flip it again and endure the agonizing pain of time passing and intimacy gradually fading from your marriage. The wetness of his tongue distracted you from your relationship’s past. Instead, the moistness of his lips allowed you to embrace the future. Each extensive lap his tongue drew along your clit made you closer to a destined release. You watched as the indentation in your thighs, where his fingers once had been, slowly disappeared back into their natural state.

Sebastian had wondered what it would be like to come home and have sex with you while invisible. The excruciating pain he had endured while making the transition was worth it. When the invisibility cloaked his skin, he knew exactly what game he would play upon reaching home.

“What does it feel like?” He breathlessly asked between each rapid lick.

“Mhmm, it feels perfect. Just like I remember.” You search for him, moving your hand towards the continuity of his breath. Each one is short and quick like a panting dog. When your curiosity began to overtake you, you shifted your body forward, wanting to feel more of his body, but suddenly you felt Sebastian’s sturdy grip on your knee.

“Stay still.” He demanded.

With your legs open and relaxed, you rested on your elbows, spread wide and exposed to your brilliant, invisible scientist husband. The thrill of his invisibility made this one of the most eventful evenings. The exhilaration intensified when your eyes caught sight of his stiffened cock, sloppily submerged in a mixture of his saliva and precum. His hands were just barely visible as they started to become coated in his spit. He stroked himself passionately, whimpering with each pleasurable massage he gave to himself. It was a hunger he had to satisfy. You both hadn’t felt such an uncontainable desire for each other in quite some time.

Most nights, your marriage was like a scorching pot of water, simmering above the furious flames that, over time, began to tarnish the once calming simmer of matrimony. There were times you’ve felt like that boiling water as it rose viciously. Rising rapidly and with rage, it couldn't withstand the hell that had been created beneath. There were times you hoped to contain the enraged water that began to spill from the pot, sparking the flames, hoping they’d calm down. Only to find its anger grew stronger. But as your mind begins to surrender to the pleasure, you feel Sebastian’s touch is soothing and comforting, like the warmth of a fireplace. No longer did his presence feel like an uncontrollable flame that trapped you in a burning building. Instead, you embraced his heated touch, resting calmly as his moans resembled the soothing sounds of wood crackling within tender flames.

“Your existence is the only reason I’ve continued to pursue this life,” he said, his voice soft between your legs. “I’m sorry for allowing my work to consume me.”

You looked down into the empty space between your legs, still in disbelief that you could feel the sensation of Sebastian’s warm tongue gliding leisurely up your clit but not see it. With a subtle flick, he teased you, allowing you to now have only a taste of what you’ve been craving, and it was far from the cold dinner that sat beautifully on the table.

“Please, I need you.” You moaned.

“Not as much as I need you.” Sebastian released a deep groan as he sank his face deeply between your legs. Cupping his lips around your engorged clit, he fully indulged in the dinner he’d been planning to have since his new discovery. Sebastian knew you deserved someone better. Someone who knows how to multitask love and their profession. However, he couldn’t fathom the thought of you being with anyone else. The idea quickly enraged him as he sat in the lab, awestruck by his new body. While he watched his own hands that had now disappeared into thin air, a widened smile appeared on his unnoticeable face. Finally, he reached an all-time achievement, and the first person he thought to tell was you.

“I love you, Y/N.” He moaned between each loving lap his tongue gave your clit. “I love you.”

You reached and touched the top of his head. Your hand rested in empty space, but you could still feel the familiar texture of his fine hair. The strands of brown sugar appeared in your mind. Looking down at the void between your legs, you pictured how his hair would fall over his forehead just above his icy blue eyes. You were certain he was watching you, his glare as cold as ice, capable of freezing you in place.

“You’re fucking breathtaking, Y/N.” He squeezed your thighs, fully compressing himself into your clit with no intention of stopping. The sloppy sounds indicate his vapid tongue, wickedly overstimulating you. Suddenly, you feel the ease of Sebastian’s fingers carefully gliding inside of you.

“Do you know what this is?” His voice deepened with a purring groan as he watched his fingers become visible due to your deep arousal. Pushing them continuously out of you with ease, his dick bucked as your wetness coated the entirety of his fingers with each stroke. You invite him in, pushing your hips forward to enjoy the stimulating touch.

“Ughh, Dr. Caine.” Your hips fully relax, surrendering to the weight of pure pleasure.

“You’re doing a beautiful job.” A long, desperate moan escaped him. He returns to indulging in your taste as it has become essential to him. The nourishment he needlessly craved. Your thirst-quenching waters became not only something he couldn’t live without, but he specifically yearned for your refreshing water to cure the lingering drought he suffered. No other taste would suffice.

You sank onto the back of the frigid counter, giving in to Sebastian’s loving touch. His tongue and fingers flick simultaneously to please you, or, in his words, to honor you. Massaging your nipples, you stimulate yourself, feeling every ounce of pleasure pinpointing to your clit. It pulsed vigorously with each intentional lick he gave you.

“Ahh, fuck Sebastian, I’m so close.” Your super abundance cries of pleasure filled the kitchen, and so did your body on the countertop. Your arms spread across the smooth and frigid surface as you braced for your intense release. The utensils you had used while prepping dinner were now falling towards the ground.

“There you go, Y/N. Come on.” Sebastian’s fingers stroked, and with each gentle fondle, it was filled with his eternal love for you. The way you devoted yourself to him was a definition of loyalty he was sure he couldn’t find anywhere else. He knew that without you, he would never be the man who somewhat faced you today.

Every worry you might have felt about your marriage before vanished from your mind as your orgasms possessed your body. Love and devotion sent you into a deep paralysis that paralyzed you with your overpowering release. Uncontrollably, your body spasmed while Sebastian continued to overstimulate your sensitive clit.

“Didn’t think you’d be such a vocalist.” Sebastian’s head lifted, and you saw the evidence of your excitement on his face. His lips were briefly visible before he wiped them away with his hands.

“I’m just feeding off the crowd, even if I can’t see who’s in it.” You leaned on your hands, examining the invisible barrier between your legs. "Is everything else the same?”

“Like what, Y/N?” Sebastian’s voice was now behind you.

“You know?” You quickly turned your head, looking around to see if he was still in the same spot or if he had moved to another part of the kitchen.

“My dick?” He said with a brief chuckle, grabbing your wrist, he guides you toward the empty space until you feel his erection. “Does it feel the same?”

You cuffed your hand around the thin air, but amazingly, you could feel the girth of Sebastian’s shaft. The plumpness of his tip began to grow visible once more as precum began to cover it.

"Yeah." You said, your voice full of shock and amazement. Slowly, you began to stroke his dick, feeling it grow thicker in your hands. He groaned helplessly as you began to increase your pace.

“Mhmmm, not so fast.” He swiftly pushed your hand away, stopping you before he lost all self-control.

“You have to work for that.” His voice is now further, but still comprehensible.

You carefully slid down from the counter and walked cautiously around the space. “This will be the most difficult game of hide-and-seek.”

“I’ll make it easier for you.” Sebastian said, now pushing his prominent erection deeply into your body.

You let out a playful squeal and spun around to see a pair of heavy-duty goggles with thick industrial silver rims and red frames floating in the air. Sebastian lifts the goggles to your face, adjusting them for your comfort. When he switches them on suddenly, there he was—the outline of his body illuminated with bright yellow and red hues. He stepped back, holding out his arms as if caught stealing.

“Thermal imaging.” He said, clasping his hands together.

A deep ocean blue encased his vividly amber gold body. You gazed out at the vastness of space with your mouth open, amazed by Sebastian’s discovery. “You really did it, Sebastian." You said tearfully.

He moved closer, cupping your face in his hands. “We did it.”

He left you with a kiss before his honeyed glow body slowly began to retract from you, and as he did, you caught a glimpse of him holding his thickened erection in his hand, pleasing himself with long and delicate strokes.

“If you want this, you’ll have to find me first.” He quickly scurried away from your view, disappearing into another part of the house.

The usually silent home was filled with laughter that had been absent for a long time. Your heart raced from the adrenaline of the exciting and sensual game of hide-and-seek. Both you and Sebastian ran around the home with a childlike spirit. Although you were wearing thermal imaging goggles, Sebastian still played his overachieving role, hiding confidently so he wouldn't be found by you. While you checked every part of the house, little did you know he had been following you throughout the game. No longer able to hold back his need for you, he grabbed your waist, catching you completely off guard.

“That’s cheating.” You said.

“You need to be more wary of your surroundings.” Sebastian says, pressing you against the wall as he slips you out of your dress and the goggles. With grace, you were lifted up into the air, appearing to have been sitting in an invisible chair.

The night continued with the familiar feeling of Sebastian entering into a world of your deep arousal. His loving words whispered into your ear with each persistent stroke he gave, nourishing the love you had been starved of. Now full of endearment and the warmth of Sebastian’s seed, you were satisfied by his proclamation of love for you throughout the night. Just before you both crashed to the veil of exhaustion that draped your bodies, you both nourished yourselves with the dinner you had prepared for the celebratory night.

Chapter Text

Lightning struck, flashing a quick, overwhelming burst of light across your apartment. Every part of your bedroom was briefly illuminated by the strikingly white flash that lit up the room once more. The thunderous sound of the booming storm kept you awake. Your mind was unable to reach a state of tranquility that would allow you to fall into a deep sleep. Tossing and turning, the sheets beneath you rustled, adding to the disturbance caused by the storm. While the deafening sounds of the storm grew stronger, its angry skies hit against your window with an unbroken flow. Staring at the ominous sky, you watched another strike of lightning, bracing yourself for the sound of the earsplitting thunder.

The sudden crashing sound makes your body jolt with fright, extending your wake. Frustrated by insomnia, you angrily push your sheets away, annoyed at the prospect of another sleepless night. Your mind feels detached from your body as you sluggishly roam your apartment, resembling a sleepwalker. You head to the kitchen, reluctant to turn on the light, relying instead on the brief glow of lightning to save energy. Part of you blames the storm for your inability to sleep, but another loud noise also fuels your restlessness. The persistent inner monologue about the recent story of the notorious killer, Candyman, repeated itself continuously every night. Words like 'Vindictive' and 'incensed' flashed in your mind just as another lightning strike lit up the sky. It was normal for you to seek out information when curiosity took hold, but as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat— and your heart was the victim of excessive investigation into this legend.

Grasping the glass cup, you were certain that the uneasiness flowing through your veins was adrenaline, which caused your hand to crush the glass in your grip.

“Fuck.” You said through gritted teeth, still carelessly maneuvering through the dark and relying on the consistent, rapid flashes of light to illuminate the atmosphere. Cautiously, you pick up the glass pieces, jolted by a shudder of fear as another thunderclap crashes in your ears. After disposing of the shards, you rush to the bathroom, sure that you're leaving a trail of crimson droplets behind.

Flicking on the light switch, you see blood flowing from the cut on your hand just as rain pours from the darkened sky. You hiss at the uncomfortable sensation of the open wound, its linear slash throbbing with unbearable pain. Quickly, you turn on the sink and run water onto the gash to ease the pain. Although it worked, there was still a hurt carried through your body, trapping you in a state of wrenching pain. The feeling of shock and disbelief makes you wish you were dreaming, unaware of your reality. Instead, you were forced to deal with the consequences of your restlessness. The constant presence of negative emotions becomes a weight that could crush you into the ground, leaving you paralyzed and never able to lift yourself from a world of fear.

You turn off the sink, watching the continued flow of your blood swirling down into the drain come to a halt. Except, there was still a trickle of dark red that shone against the porcelain-white sink. Hurriedly, you open the medicine cabinet, finding a pack of bandages to conceal the wound. While your hands worked themselves, your mind was elsewhere. Thinking of the tragic tale of the man who’d been brutally murdered due to the hate of another man. It consumed you, just as the millions of comments people left regarding the devastating story. Whether good or bad, it was eating you alive.

The agonizing pulsing pain in your hand subsided, now tightly wrapped to prevent any blood from escaping. Dropping your head, you relaxed your palms onto the cold sink, mind racing with thoughts of those who dared to speak the name of the vengeful spirit.

“I said it. Nothing happened.”

“I thought it was 3 times. Or is that Bloody Mary?”

“Since I’ve said it, I feel like someone has been watching me. Preying on my naivety until he traps me inside his world.”

“Why the fuck would anyone want to say it? Go touch grass.”

Lifting your head, you stare into the mirror, staring at your exhausted expression. Eyelids were draped heavily, as if you were desperately pulling them down. Subtle dark circles were gradually forming under your eyes, and they appeared puffy and aching for even a moment of rest. With a deep sigh, you lift yourself from the relaxed position to leave the bathroom. Until the intrusive thought of summoning a spirit awakened within you. You felt there was no way you could sleep amid this storm, and since you didn't want to stay alone in bed, you pondered whether there was any other way to uncover the truth than to see if the tale was a lie.

You recalled the endless hours of your research, remembering the steps to summon the murderous soul.

“Candyman, five times, in the mirror. Good luck”

Staring into the mirror, you take a deep breath, observing your nervous reflection. Your chest rises sharply as your lungs fill with air and then deflate like a balloon. Your lips part slightly, but the distant crack of thunder causes you to swallow your words. When the apartment falls silent, with only the faint sounds of rain against the window, you smack your lips and close your eyes. Like ripping off a bandage, you just want to get through this tough moment. Then, you suddenly open your eyes and say his name.

“Candyman, Candyman, Candyman, Candyman...Candyman." You stammered the last call of his name, anxiously awaiting the sight of his rusty hook behind you.

Nothing happened. A faint sense of humor briefly flickered behind your exhausted eyes. A small laugh escaped your lips as hysteria started to creep onto your weary face, but then a humming noise grew nearer. Its steady buzz approached, passing by your ear until it settled on the sink. Rubbing your eyes to confirm you're awake, you noticed the relentless hum continued, and you focused on the creature’s black and yellow fuzzy body.

You gulped intensely, knowing you might have awakened the spirit of the vengeful man. Tilting your head, you watched the honeybee’s fluttering wings until another flew right beside it. You steady yourself with the sink, soon beginning to feel the effects of a panic attack. The room started to spin, like the thunderstorm had turned into a raging tornado. As the air began to suffocate you, you tried to avoid hyperventilating. Deep breaths in and out, but it didn’t seem enough. Your mind was slipping away from reality and entering a realm of madness.

The buzzing grew louder, almost unbearable, but when you focused on your surroundings, you were faced with a swarm of bees. They flew around you with no intention of harming you, but kept you rooted in place. With no way to escape, you covered your ears, overwhelmed by the deafening hum of the bees. When you no longer felt the gusting wind of the bees swarming around you, the truth of the tale stood behind your reflection.

There he was, the towering man, standing proudly behind you. The richness of his deep umber skin resembled that of nutrient-rich soil, which cultivated the most fruitful vegetation. His figure flourished behind you, grown into a man of pure height and muscle. You were in awe, planted firmly into the ground with no ability to move. And while you stayed in your state of shock, you continued surveying the rest of the strikingly handsome man. Temptation overtook you as you so desperately wanted to feel the fabric of his lengthy fur-lined coat. It covered the entirety of his body, leaving only his white cravat to be visible. He tightened the space, granting your internal wish to feel the soothing fabric of his coat as it softly brushed against your body. Heavy huffs of breath spewed from his lips as he stood behind you, his arms tucked behind his back while he followed in your steps. Observing you completely with the intensity of his strong mocha eyes, he calls your name.

“Y/N.” He dragged out the syllables of your name, and you were caught off guard by the deep resonance of his velvety voice. Its bass was powerful enough to send intense vibrations through the bathroom and shatter the mirror where you both stood. Despite the intimidation radiating from his full-bodied voice, there was a certain authority about him that captivated you. The way he spoke your name with such a soothing yet powerful tone made you feel like you had won the ultimate prize, and he was the announcer, ensuring everyone present knew of your existence.

“How do you know my name?” You whispered, your words lacking the confidence that resonated in his voice.

A hypnotic groan purred from deep within his throat, growing louder as he pushed himself into your body. “I came for you.”

You swallowed hard, almost choking on your own spit as your mouth watered intensely. “I don’t understand?”

“You doubted me.” He leaned in, and even at a whisper, the vibrato of his voice pierced through your ears, shaking you to your core.

“I’m sorry.” You choked.

He inhaled deeply, his russet eyes momentarily shielded by his eyelids as he softly shut them to bask in your ambience. Suddenly, there was a cool sensation climbing up your arm.

“Be my victim.” His hook ascends your arm, its frigidity climbing up your silky skin. Goosebumps radiate through your body like an untamed wildfire. The fiery spike of adrenaline fueled an emotional response that you’d never expect to ignite. It wasn’t fear or dread. Instead, there was a familiarity in his exploratory touch.

Your body quickly becomes captivated by his lingering tenderness. His seductive charm is far from what you expected; the stories of his intimidating demeanor begin to fade from your mind. His hook reaches your shoulder, and hesitantly, you hold it with care, observing the brutality of his replaced hand.

“The legend is true?” Your wounded hand stroked his, and for a moment, you understood his pain. The stories of his tragic tale struck your heart as lightning did once again. Thunderous sounds of the storm grew stronger, reminding you of its presence.

“Do you believe in me?” He nudged his chin into your hair, absorbing the aroma you presented to him. There was a nostalgia to your presence that stopped him from executing you. His hesitation was uncanny to him, but it felt natural, nonetheless. Placing his hook delicately under your chin, he lifts your head in awe at the smoothness of your radiant ivory skin. It's faultless shone before him like a freshly lit candle. He couldn’t contain his composure as your presence smelled of someone he once knew.

“Yes.” Your gaze was gentle and filled with compassion. Without even the slightest blink, you never break eye contact, holding the longing stare. It lasted longer than you anticipated, and as you drowned in his rich, decadent eyes, you felt confident you knew this man. “I know you.”

He said nothing, but ever so briefly relived a moment he’d yearned for since being removed from this timeline. The sharpness of his hook pressed into your neck, making you rise on your toes to avoid another cut. Yet, his touch was gentle. Longing for the one he loved to speak his name, he finally found you. He showed his everlasting love with a kiss. Slow, passionate groans echoed from deep within his throat. Until an animalistic growl resonated from the roots of his being. You watched him in the mirror as he pulled away, slowly opening his jacket to reveal his grotesque mutilations. Eyes widened and filled with a deep sadness, you see the product of his torture. His skinless and hollowed-out abdomen revealed what was a beehive that nested within him. While his jacket was now open and his chest exposed, a few honeybees flew from the concealed area, humming around the bathroom until one landed softly on your nose.

With one hand, he begins to free his aching erection, watching as more honeybees unleash themselves to gracefully land onto your body. He was in complete control of them, manipulating them carefully so as not to hurt you. Astonished by the few that landed onto your body, you notice an elated expression in your reflection that you hadn’t witnessed in quite a while.

“It was always you, Y/N. It was always you.” He uses his hook to tear your underwear away from you. His exposed chest heaved as he looked down to see you succumb to his touch. Your back arched as you leaned onto the sink and awaited him to enter you.

Slowly, he pushed his tip past your honeyed walls and took pride in experiencing the world of a different hive. His moans deepened, and so did the hums of the bees as their wings fluttered passionately within his abdomen. You felt just as he remembered; the viscosity of your arousal was like any high-quality honey. He could feel the creaminess of your pleasure as it coated him with each stroke. Your head sank low as your fingers scratched at the smoothness of the sink. Fatigue no longer stands between you and your reflection. If you had been asleep, you didn’t wish to wake from this frightening yet tantalizing wet dream. His hook tore through your shirt, its shreds floating into the air before landing gently beside your feet.

“Be a witness to my existence.” He used his hook to lift your head, making you look into his eyes through the mirror. “Without your proclamation, I am nothing.”

You felt the weight of his brawny hand hold onto your waist as his hook kept your chin up. Slamming into you faster, his head rose towards the fluorescent lights as he could hardly stand the longing memory that he now knew he couldn’t stand to let part ways from him again. The bees swarmed more rapidly and erratically. You couldn’t understand what was causing their behavior to change so abruptly, but he knew he was trying to control the intoxication he was beginning to feel as your pussy became a drug that entered his bloodstream, and it was becoming impossible to contain his drunkenness. The honeybees begin to fly from his ribcage, gradually filling the room and landing clumsily onto the walls.

Candyman, finally tilting his head back down, meets your gaze. His sunken eyelids watched your dilated pupils as you, too, became high from his compelling touch.

"Daniel." You moaned helplessly, the name slipping from your lips before you even realized who you’d been calling to.

“Ahhhh.” He quickly flashes a cunning smile with a relaxed gaze. There it was…the declaration of his existence, but more importantly, a love he knew still walked with a heavy lonesome. A place in his heart no longer heavy or filled with an unfathomable sense of rage. The longer he pushed himself inside of you, the more he felt the excessive flow of your deepest desires come to life. He could not think of a life of immortality without you. The bees' humming became deafening, masking the cries of your pleasure.

“Come with me, and be immortal.” He pushed his hook into the softness of your skin, withholding the massive amount of strength he had so he wouldn't hurt you.

Your lips parted gently as you tried to steady your breathing, but with each powerful thrust he made, it was a challenge to speak to him. Hypnotized by his severe god complex, you couldn’t deny the worship of this familiar man. The way his delicate touch ran down your back ignited a memory that you felt you’d lived before. The fragrance of his spirit floated beneath your nostrils, sparking a distant memory where you’d both once lived in happiness with one another.

A single tear ran down your face as you were stuck in a trance by his hypnosis. “Take me with you.”

Bees began to leave the vacancy along the walls, now swarming into a typhoon, trapping you both with each other. Vicious winds filled the eye of the buzzing cyclone, and as the space grew tighter, you both drew near. You lifted yourself, and your exposed back now met with his mutilated body. His hand snaked against your waist as each stroke became a temporary cessation.

“Our names will be remembered forever, haunting those who continue the tale of our love.” He pulled you close, your back feeling the gentle touch of honeybees lingering on your delicate skin.

You become overwhelmed by his tempting aura that enthralled you. Just when you were beginning to become overstimulated by his love, soon aching to reach your end, he attracts more bees to you. Allowing some of them to part from their raging typhoon, to flutter closely to your abdomen. Some even fly close enough to your nipples that they quickly harden from the airy sensation.

“Ughhh, Please, Daniel.” You melt into his arms, sure you’ve become the honey the bees were processing within their hive. Like nectar, your body slowly presses completely against Daniel, his arm wrapped around your waist, catching you like a honeycomb.

“Come with me.” He purred deeply into your ear. The bees swarm faster, becoming just as thrilled as Daniel did. Short grunts intertwined with the sounds of your ass slamming against his waist. You push against him, your back arching until you can face him.

“I’m there…fuck I’m there.” You feel his hook press further into your chin, his other hand clenched onto your waist as he’d become high from the sound of your mellisonant pussy. As the pace quickened, the slick sounds of pleasure beneath you grew louder. When the feeling became pleasantly unbearable, you both came simultaneously. The bees flew around each other with intense speed, as Daniel unleashed a moan that sounded like a lion claiming its mate.

While Daniel began to slip graciously from you, the succulent sounds of his dick pulling away from you filled the air. The moist sound became the loudest melody in the room as the bees began to quiet, dispersing from the feverish typhoon. Leaning against the sink, you brace yourself, knees buckling as you try to support your weight. Quickly, Daniel adjusts himself before catching you as your body begins to give in to exhaustion. Scooping you up into his arms, he looks down at your breathtakingly beautiful face. You reach up to touch his, gently caressing his velvety skin. For the first time in a while, you start to feel tired, your eyes drifting into the peaceful sleep you've always wanted. Needed. Just before your eyelids closed, you took in the details of Daniel’s familiar face, watching as his mouth opened and a swarm of bees softly flowed out of it, and darkness swept over you.

Chapter Text

“You can do better than that.” Patrick claws at the tenderness of Paul Allen’s scalp. Reclining into his desk chair, he relaxes into the leather comfort, looking down at Paul sloppily devouring him. When the clock struck a decent hour and staff dispersed from their offices, Patrick stayed behind, enjoying a lunch that he’d packed for himself. He watched his handsome delicacy, Paul, become lost in his hearty meal. His jaw opened to its full capacity as he slid seamlessly up and down Patrick’s dick.

“Jesus, Paul, your fucking mouth.” Patrick’s button-up shirt stretched out beside his body as his chiseled chest rose sporadically. With his pants resting beside his desk, his legs spread into a relaxed position, allowing Paul to be as close as possible. Patrick clings to Paul’s auburn hair, ruining the well-attained slickness it had. He couldn’t control his need for Paul. Through all his meetings, there was one thing on his mind. This moment. The anticipation of Paul’s mouth graciously sinking onto his dick made his stomach twist into a starving knot. He adjusted himself stealthily underneath the desk while colleagues exchanged their two cents about different accounts. Patrick behaved like a hormonal teenager discovering touch for the first time. He couldn’t control his thoughts as he constantly checked his watch. When each hand of his Rolex ticked to the appropriate time, he winced with an ounce of frustration as he had to spend an extra minute allowing the conference room to clear because of his prominent erection.

“Mhmmm, come on.” Pushing Paul’s head further down onto his thickened shaft, Patrick listened to the familiar, glorious sounds of Paul’s mouth beginning to over-salivate. Patrick could feel the thick pool of his spit drip down toward his tightened balls. The warm sensation immediately alleviates any tension in his body. Soothing him like a luxurious Prada cashmere sweater. Paul’s body convulsed as his breathing began to feel like the ultimate task.

“Hold it.” Patrick said sternly through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me waste my lunch hour for fucking nothing.”

Paul’s head bobbed repeatedly as he tried to regulate his breathing, his airway feeling like it had been completely blocked by Patrick’s girth. His hand clawed at the defined structure of Patrick’s thighs while he pushed through the vigorous deep throating. Patrick used Paul's hair to his advantage, gradually releasing himself from his mouth. When the tearful gaze of Paul’s hazel-green eyes met with Patrick, he sat up on his knees, nudging the tightness of Patrick’s chest with a raging force.

“What the fuck, Bateman!” He coughed, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

Patrick swiftly clutched his hand around Paul’s neck, his grip tightening with the impatience that began to overtake him. “Lower your tone. No one knows you’re in here.”

Paul's lip curled with disgust as he stood his ground with Patrick. He surveyed the look of fury in his deep pools of chocolate irises. Their warmth is different from that of a soothing cup of hot chocolate. Instead, they swirled viciously around the darkest depths of his pupils like a black hole. While Paul explored his gaze, he sank into the void, seeing that there was nothing behind the eyes of the man who had been his office secret.

“Fuck you! I was choking.” Paul coughed between each of his words, hoping to catch his breath.

Patrick kept a steady grasp on Paul’s neck, pulling him closer to his face. Each detail of his beauty becomes more noticeable. The subtle blush pink in his eyes from his coughing episode, and they were glossed with a provocative shine as they filled with the tears that were made from Patrick’s gifted cock. Patrick fought a smile at the pathetic view of Paul’s face of defeat. A look, Patrick was so happy to be the culprit of. Their eyes locked only momentarily before the sweet gaze of his maple eyes fell gently upon Paul’s lips. They were luminous from the mess he was making of his lunch. Paul’s gluttony made Patrick hungry, starving for his sweet lips. The ravenous appetite made Patrick squeeze his hand around Paul’s neck tighter as he felt his pulse. Patrick could feel the same throb happening with his dick.

“If you don’t get your act together, I’ll show you what being choked really feels like.” Patrick’s lips brushed delicately against Paul’s as his threat became something of a turn on to him. The cutthroat attitude Patrick displayed never came as a surprise to Paul. He’d never once been frightened by the unnerving threats Patrick threw at him. There was a small voice inside his head that knew Patrick picked him because he’d never back down from any of his challenges. Paul smiled against Patrick’s lips, gliding his tongue along his tightened lips as he tried to suppress his agonizing appetite.

Patrick’s eyelids dropped gently like curtains hiding him and his secret in the dark. He dug the tips of his fingers into Paul’s neck, pulling his face as close as possible. While Paul pushed his tongue past the stubbornness of Patrick’s lips, he took a deep breath before their tongues drowned in the wetness of each other's kiss. Each twirl of their tongues made their breath dance within the passionate touch. Paul couldn’t suppress his moans as the kiss grew deeper. Passionate. He reached for Patrick’s dick, holding onto the slickness of his thick shaft loosely and stroking him with ease. Keeping a slow and sensual pace, only allowing him to feel the slightest pleasure in his touch. Paul’s hand grew warm and coated with the slickness of his drool as he barely touched Patrick’s aching erection.

“Don’t do that.” Patrick said between the heated kiss. “Don’t be a fucking tease.”

Paul released a breathy laugh, his teeth slowly revealed to Patrick’s lips, before he pushed his tongue back into his mouth. Paul continued keeping a loose hold on Patrick’s dick. Just barely stroking him, his hand glides softly along his shaft before ascending to his pulsing tip. He rubbed his thumb smoothly along its fleshly pink tip before repeating the gesture again. And again. Until Patrick too couldn’t suppress his moans of desperation and more so frustration.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you when I’m through with you.” Patrick whispered into Paul’s ear. He was nonchalant about the serious warning. Instead of the words coming out with a dominant tone, Patrick whimpered breathlessly in between each feathery, tantalizing stroke Paul teased him with.

“You’re a fucking wimp, Bateman.” Paul huffed with a snarky smile. “Too much of a loser to be a threatening murderer.”

“Fuck you.” Patrick’s fingertips were so sunken into Paul’s neck that it began to redden with irritation.

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Paul finally tightened his hold around Patrick, making an uncontrollable gasp escape his parted lips. He looked down at Paul’s perfect grasp around his pulsating dick. His eyes sunken with a desperate plea for more. This image was all he imagined in his head, the perfect snapshot of Paul’s sloppy hand choking his dick. Precum leaked from his rosy pink tip as Paul started to jerk him off with the perfect stroke.

“Is it because you know no one else in this office can take your shit?” Paul watched as Patrick’s eyes never parted from his glossy hand. With each confident stroke, the room filled with the sloshy sound of Paul’s spit coating around his dick.

“Shut the hell up.” Patrick grunted.

“Or it’s because you don’t want anyone else to have me?” Paul persisted, still maintaining his steady rhythm. “It’s so good you can’t speak?”

Patrick grew impatient with Paul and couldn’t take another moment of his nagging voice berating him. He quickly released Paul from his firm choke and shoved his middle and ring fingers into his mouth.

“Open.” His eyes were fueled with frustration; the honeyed brown gaze, once softened by pure bliss, had melted into a darkened one that wanted to test Paul’s limits. Paul relaxed his jaw while Patrick pushed his fingers into his tongue as if he were examining his mouth. He adored his pearly whites and the length of his warm tongue. Pressing the fleshy muscle down, Patrick pushed Paul’s Jaw beyond its capacity, stretching it open, before he leaned forward in his chair to gracefully spit inside his mouth.

“When I say shut the hell up, I mean it.” Patrick clutched Paul’s chin between the space of his fingers and thumb, making him shut his mouth. While he did, he watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed part of him. “Good boy.”

Patrick nudged Paul’s face before reclining back into his chair with a look of aggravation. Paul was over his dismissive behavior and the threats, although they would never be made in place of promises. All the negativity he spewed towards him was beginning to get to him all at once in this very moment. He knew that deep down, Patrick’s biggest motivation for coming to work wasn’t to gain access to the best account, but so he could have lunch with Paul.

Paul stood up from his knees, unbuttoning his shirt and carelessly tossing it onto the floor. “I’m sick of you treating me like shit beneath your shoes.”

“Get back down.” Patrick clenched his jaw, eyebrows connecting to each other as he grimaced angrily at Paul. Patrick felt a deep pit in his stomach, wondering if Paul was going to torture him by not giving him what he wanted. He needed Paul more than he needed him.

“No.” Paul continued to undress, now stepping out of his trousers and tossing them onto the floor.

Patrick stood slowly, trying to ignore the evident erection that Paul had. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but-"

“Shut up and take everything off.” Paul studied the prissy attitude beginning to appear on Patrick’s face, and although he hated being shut up, he obliged by Paul’s orders.

Patrick stood tall, his immaculately chiseled body completely vulnerable to Paul. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen every part of him, but whenever he did, it was just as good as the last. The sculpt of his arms and the rise of his broad chest. Or the cut of his abdomen that Paul couldn’t help but run his slightly damp hands along. And his favorite was the cut of his V-line that led to another favorite feature of his.

Patrick checked his watch, huffing out a deep breath. “Paul, you’re pissing me off, and I don’t have time.”

“You’ve pissed me off, and now you’re going to make time.” Paul held the strength of Patrick’s biceps as he backed him up into his desk. Swiftly, he turned Patrick around and placed his hands on the desk. “You’re a little bitch you know that?”

“Yeah, I do.” Patrick’s dick jumped at the unworldly sight of Paul growing angry with him. The sudden shift from his typical playful demeanor now leaned toward a furious, possessive spirit that became a host in Paul’s body. Paul pressed his body against Patrick, teasing his dick between the cheeks of his ass. They both fill the room with anguished breaths, anticipating what’s to come. Paul reached out in front of Patrick, cupping his hand with a beckoning hand motion. As he did, Patrick began collecting spit in his mouth until he had enough to carefully put into Paul’s hand.

“Keep going until your mouth feels fucking dry.” Paul slapped Patrick's ass, watching as a scarlet red print appeared on his perfectly tanned skin. Patrick continued repeatedly collecting spit in his mouth and dropping it into Paul’s hand until his tongue was no longer capable of salivation.

“Good.” Paul rubbed Patrick’s spit along his dick, stroking himself to the visual he saw in the room. The idea that no one knew what happened while they all scurried to their expensive lunches made the secret that much thrilling and the sex even more exciting.

“You can arch better than that.” Paul sank the palm of his hand onto Patrick’s lower back until his ass pushed against his hips. “There you go.”

Paul’s dick, now fully coated and shimmering with Patrick’s DNA, was ready to teach Patrick a lesson about respect. Paul held the fullness of Patrick’s ass, opening him up to allow only his tip to ease inside him.

“Mhmmm, like you said, we don’t have time.” Paul steadily pushed himself entirely into Patrick’s ass. His dick, constricted by the walls of Patrick’s taint felt as if he could have been stuck to him, and when he was completely inside, he stayed still as if he were. “So I’m gonna make this lesson quick for you.”

Paul began fucking Patrick savagely, looking down at himself as he watched Patrick’s ass crash into his pelvis. “You’re not as fucking great as you think you are, Bateman.”

“Ahh, Paul.” Patrick clawed at his desk, which was beginning to become an unorganized mess with each powerful thrust Paul laid upon him.

“That’s right, Bateman. Say my name.” Paul aggressively reached for Patrick’s chin, forcing him to look into his eyes. His chocolate irises began melting away at the steamy heat of the moment.

“And you don’t get to talk to me any kind of way.” Paul squeezed his chin tighter, feeling the chisel of his jaw. “Or else I’m gonna tell the office you’ve been my faggot for months now.”

Papers fall from the desk, floating gently in the air before scattering all across the floor. Pencils and pens rocked against each other in their container while Paul continued with his passionate fuck. He had no intentions of quieting down, even if the time ticked slowly towards the end of lunch.

“You’re my little faggot aren’t you, Patrick?” Paul moaned desperately, sliding his fingers into Patrick’s warm mouth. “Fuck, my dirty little secret?”

“Yes, Paul.” Patrick murmured with Paul’s finger shoved inside his mouth. He pushed his fingers further back, making Patrick immediately gag.

“It’s not so fucking easy, is it?” Paul pushed his fingers deeper, laughing in his mind at the beautiful sight of Patrick's eyes watering from only the slightest gag. “You’re pathetic.”

Patrick nodded in agreement, his eyes filled with a doleful look. A tear escaped, gently falling down his flushed cheeks.

“Shit, Patrick, look at you. I’ve never seen you so fucking hopeless.” Paul continued forcing his finger deeper into his mouth, letting his fingers swirl around his tongue. Patrick begins sucking on Paul’s finger like a hidden confection was filled inside them. At the corners of Patrick’s mouth, spit began to gush from it, cascading down Paul’s fingers. Pumping much faster, Paul’s fucking became so intense that soon most of the office materials that were once on Patrick’s desk now resided on the floor.

Tears continued to stream from Patrick’s soft, flushed pink eyes. He was sure after his extended lunch, he’d have to get a hold of eye drops so he wouldn’t appear as if he’d been crying. However, Paul continued getting a kick out of his heightened sensitivity. The way Patrick’s eyes rolled wildly whenever he’d force his fingers further into his throat. The gesture caused Paul’s fingers to be a luminous mess. Spit overflowed from Patrick’s mouth down onto Paul’s fingers, continuing its path down to the back of his hand.

“You’re fucking disgusting.” Paul’s lips curled into disgust as he grimaced at Patrick’s slovenliness. On the contrary, his throbbing dick enjoyed seeing him in a vulnerable state. He was taken aback by the scruffiness, the untamed nature that Patrick never once displayed to him. Paul’s cock simply couldn’t take it.

“Ughhhh, Bateman, you’re a real good fuck.” Paul pushed his pelvis harder into Patrick’s ass, having no awareness of his boisterous grunts. “Lunch is almost up, and you’re still a disgusting mess.”

Paul pressed his fingers down onto the rough texture of Patrick's tongue, cranking his jaw open. While he did, Patrick panted breathlessly, snaking his hand towards his cock to care for the unbearable sexual tension that rushed through his dick.

“Look at you getting turned on from being a vile man.” Paul pursed his lips together and spat directly into Patrick’s open mouth. With no hesitation, Patrick carefully closed his mouth, sucking tightly onto Paul’s fingers until he finally swallowed.

“God, you are fucking disgusting.” Paul bit his lips, fighting back a playful smile. To see Patrick behave so submissively made him wonder how far he could take him. “Tell me, baby. I want to hear you.”

“I’m disgusting, Paul.” Patrick’s words were hardly recognizable as his mouth was full of Paul’s fingers. He removed them, smearing them onto Patrick’s face to cover him with his own mess.

“Tell the office how fucking disgusting you are.” Paul grunted heavily between each stroke.

“I’m fucking disgusting.” Patrick’s eyelids fell softly, and he leaned into Paul’s damp hand like a ball of catnip. He was sure the gesture would encourage Paul’s dominant demeanor since he felt his dick throbbing repeatedly inside him.

Paul’s cock couldn’t extend the lunch hour any longer, not because he needed to get back to work, but because he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself from coming. Pushing down onto Patrick’s back, he forced his chest onto the beautifully crafted desk. All his weight gravitated towards his hands, keeping Patrick in his place.

“I got you…” Paul slowly eased himself out of Patrick before slamming back inside of him, feeling the same tightening pleasure that constricted his bulging erection. “Right where I want you. Fuckkk.”

Paul reverted to his hasty pace, causing the constant sound of clapping to grow louder. That was until, in the distance, the sound of an elevator’s arrival stopped him only momentarily in his tracks. Paul clenched his hand around Patrick’s arm, bringing his back into his chest, and with one swift motion, he too was holding Patrick’s dick. Both their hands linked together as they slowly stroked Patrick’s dick while Paul simultaneously fucked him slowly. Employees footsteps began to retreat to their desk while Patrick and Paul stayed in their overdue lunch break.

“That’s my good boy.” Paul kissed Patrick gently on his wet cheek. “Stay quiet.”

“I’m gonna c…come.” Patrick squeezed his dick tighter, increasing his pace. “Fuck.”

“Just a minute, sweetheart. I’m right behind you.” Paul pushed himself onto the balls of his feet, pushing himself into Patrick as deeply as he could. Their breaths were ragged and hushed behind the locked office door, which hid their true feelings for each other. Deep down, they both wished to display their affections publicly, but even when the opportunity arose, they just couldn’t do it.

“Bateman!” An aggravated voice, belonging to Van Patten, shouted from the other side. “You bailed on us for lunch…again!”

“Not a fucking word.” Paul decided to keep Patrick’s whimpers busy with a deepened kiss. The furious flicking of their wet tongues created the same slick sound as their hands jerking off Patrick.

“You’re just going to ignore me?” Van Patten knocked once more.

“Shit. I’m gonna come, Bateman.” Paul sank his head into Patrick’s neck, smelling the familiarity of his high-end cologne. The scent he so meticulously could find in a crowded room. “Here I come. Ahhh, fuck. Take it from me.”

Patrick began pushing himself into Paul, feeling the same continuous throb happening with his dick also happening with Paul’s. They drowned out the persistence of Van Patten’s knocking and instead locked eyes with each other deeply, remembering that although everyone returned from lunch, they still felt as if they were the only two present at this moment. Just when Paul could feel a high better than any drug he’d tried, he pumped into Patrick faster, making him come with him. Their orgasm was so anticipated, so yearned for, that the idea of silencing themselves during such glory felt melancholic. Paul could see the overpowering orgasm possessing Patrick, and when his lips parted to release a plea of ecstasy, Paul halted him with a hand over his lips.

“Stay fu…fucking ahhh quiet.” Paul couldn’t control the weight of his own orgasm and collapsed onto Patrick, causing him to rest his chest against the desk. Their bodies jerked out of their control as they fell onto the frigid, opulently crafted furniture, pushing their bodies into each other while they finally had gotten what they both wanted. Finally, when the shadow of the furious abandoned colleague disappeared, they both relaxed, sinking into each other's touch.

Patrick whimpered helplessly into Paul’s hand, suddenly feeling the warmth of his cum flowing into both their palms. Paul, with one final stroke, emptied every drop of his cum inside of Patrick up until the moment he exhaustingly dropped all of his weight onto Patrick’s back.

“Well done, Bateman.” Paul said with short breaths. “Maybe I’ll reward you later.”

“Fuck me for a punishment and reward?” Patrick chuckled, not wanting to leave this position a moment later. The heat from his exasperated body was cooled by the frigidness of the desk.

“I just want to fuck you, doesn’t matter what for.” Paul finally released himself from Patrick, shuddering at the sensitivity of his dick. “You might get what you want sooner because I’m stuck in your office. I can’t leave looking like I’ve been…taking care of business.”

“I want you to stay anyway.” Patrick’s heart pounded into his disheveled desk. He didn’t want Paul’s body to escape him. This moment of Paul sheltering his body with his was all Patrick needed for the remainder of the day and possibly the night.

“Bateman’s getting mushy?” Paul kissed Patrick's back and wrapped his arms around his waist. While Patrick smiled to himself at the vulnerability that lay between them, there was a moment of silence until a grumble erupted from Paul’s stomach.

“Damnit.” He laughed. “You think you can get Jean to get us food?”

“We need to pick a different time to take care of business so we can fucking eat.” Patrick peeled himself off the desk, shifting his weight to one leg as he stood to call Jean at her desk.

Just as he pressed the buttons to dial her, Paul noticed the erection that refused to part ways with Patrick. With a cunning smile, Paul lowered himself onto his knees, and while Patrick struggled to explain the food order he so desperately needed, he watched as Paul continued with the meal he had parted from earlier.