You Suck 1

Warnings: Roleplay, Hate Sex, Office Sex, Exhibitionism, Degradation Kink, Masochism, Humiliation Kink, Mention of Sharing, BDSM, Creampie, Subspace, Rough Sex, Face Stepping, Cumming Untouched, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Fingering, Public Sex, Power Struggle, Dacryphilia, Negotiated Scene, Switch, Verse, Dominant/Submissive Dynamic, Teasing.

Please note that all characters involved in this story are 18+, and are fully consenting.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

D O R I A N

Standing amidst the dinner guests at the end-of-the-year banquet for Anthem Advertising was bittersweet for Dorian. He had planned most of it, but he was far too on edge to actually enjoy himself. Being the head of advertising at an advertising agency hadn't come easy for him--he'd worked his way up the hard way. He was a cook at a local diner on the weekends overnight during college, and he was a freelance website developer who worked primarily with small businesses to keep up with the portion of his tuition his scholarship didn't cover. He had to prove himself to get the position, but at the same time... It'd been mainly by default.

For a while, there was a revolving door of employees and eventually, he'd been the only one left with sufficient experience to take over as head. Because he'd been promoted only because they had no one else to do the job, he felt a strong need to prove himself. He'd always been very goal-oriented, and he was much too proud to accept a half-victory like being promoted just because. So, he kept working and working. Until no one could say he'd not earned the position. He kept his appearance perfect at all times--every suit had to match his socks, his hair was in the same style every day, and he never had so much as a wrinkle in his clothes. By all rights, he was probably what most would consider 'boring' and that was fine with him. He wanted to make it to the top, so if he had to hold himself to perfection at all times it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

"Oh, what do we have here?" Dorian rolled his eyes and turned to glare at Silas who was smirking and drinking a glass of bourbon. "Did you actually stay up past eleven? I'm impressed, I was sure you'd be home watching the news in bed with your fifty cats."

"I'm here, it's past eleven. Is your joke supposed to be that I act old because the elderly watch the news and have an unreasonable number of cats?" Dorian asked and paused. "Or is it supposed to be funny that you think I watch the news before bed and have fifty cats?"

"I was comparing you to my grandmother, I must admit." Silas laughed, tipping his head to the side a little. Dorian crossed his arms over his chest and by pure force of will alone, his heart didn't speed up at the sound of his laugh. By sheer (bad) luck alone, he couldn't smell the man's cologne. But, he was standing close enough to him that he could see the specks of gold that littered his brown eyes, the stubble on his cheeks and he could see the scar peeking out of his hairline. Perhaps most annoyingly, this man was somehow above him on the totem pole and managed to come to even special events looking like he'd just gotten out of bed and rolled around in designer clothes.

"Well, some of us have things to do in the mornings," Dorian said, scowling at him and turning away from him. He couldn't keep looking him in the eyes. "You could've at least buttoned your shirt all the way. You look like you rolled straight out of a brothel." Dorian snapped. It was true--Silas had a look whenever he'd just orgasmed and unfortunately for Dorian, he'd seen it enough times to recognize it.

"You can button them if they're bothering you that much," Silas said with a smirk, and Dorian shot him a look he hoped would make the man drop dead, but no such luck because he only met his eyes and chuckled a little. "Aren't you quick-tempered tonight? Is someone feeling stressed?" He leaned forward a little, letting Dorian catch another whiff of his cologne. He scrunched up his nose and frowned at him, narrowing his eyes a little. The scent of his cologne was so nice, it smelled like everything that he wanted to be surrounded by, and that annoyed the fuck out of him.

"I'm fine," Dorian said, sucking in a deep breath as Silas stepped just a little too close to him. His heart sped up in his chest and he felt his cock twitching in his pants. Silas leaned past him to grab a drink off of the table beside him and then leaned away, a knowing little smirk on his face. Asshole.

"It looks like you're undressing me with your eyes." Silas laughed. "If you want me to bend you over my desk again, I have no problem doing so," Silas said halfway under his breath, but even so Dorian's eyes shot around to see if anyone had heard him while glaring.

"Shut up. I'd rather choke on dry tortilla chips." Despite him saying it, his heart was speeding up in his chest. He couldn't decide if he wanted to punch Silas or shove his tongue down his throat. Both would shut him up, at least for a minute.

"That seems unpleasant. I'm sure it wasn't that bad. You couldn't seem to keep your mouth shut," Silas paused for a moment and then laughed. "Though that's not so different from always is it? I must say your much more enjoyable to be around when you're moaning and begging for more, though."

"You're insufferable." Dorian snapped, and Silas shrugged a bit. "Absolutely infuriatingly insufferable!" Silas smiled, his eyes darkening a little.

"I know, it keeps me up at night." Silas sighed dramatically, wiping at his eye as if he had the ability to cry. "But really that just sounds like your way of saying 'please fuck me, master'?" Dorian suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe. He hated Silas so fucking much, he was so cocky and sexy and Jesus fuck the way his shirt was clinging to his muscles...

"Just meet me in my office in fifteen minutes and shut the fuck up." Dorian snapped, turning around on his heels and storming off to his office, and slamming the door behind him. He threw himself down in his desk chair and leaned forward on his desk, resting his head down on it. He was so horny. Why Silas? Why was his heart racing in his chest and his cock straining against his pants? And most importantly, why had he prepared ahead of time for this exact situation?

When the door opened to his office fifteen minutes later, his head popped up and he watched Silas turn the lock on the door. As he walked forward, Dorian caught sight of the smirk on his face and glared at him, crossing his arms over his chest, and stood up from his chair when Silas was in front of him. For a moment, they didn't really do anything, almost waiting to see who'd make the first move. Dorian moved first, reaching out and grasping the front of Silas's shirt and yanking him forward, kissing him. It was a little stiff at first, his mouth was hard and unyielding, but then one of Silas's hands fell to the small of his back and pulled him flush against his chest. And Dorian melted.

His mind shut off and his lips moved against Silas's with a desperation that he'd absolutely blame on the singular glass of wine he'd had during the meal. He could taste the bourbon on his lips and tongue, and his cologne overpowered his senses and left him feeling desperate. His heart was beating in his chest, the air around them felt thick with desire and he started quickly working his fingers down the buttons of Silas's shirt, immediately running over his skin as soon as it was opened. Silas's hands pushed at his jacket, pushing it off of his shoulders. Dorian pulled away, his heart hammering in his chest.

"I fucking hate you," Dorian groaned as he started trailing kisses down Silas's neck and chest, down over his abdomen, pausing to run his tongue along his happy trail. Silas groaned softly, lust-darkened eyes taking in his every move as Dorian ran his tongue along the v shape leading down into his trousers. Dorian worked the fastenings on Silas's trousers before mouthing over his cock through his boxers.

"You look like you hate me," Silas said with a smirk, and Dorian leaned up and bit down into his hip roughly. Silas groaned and threaded his fingers through Dorian's hair and pulled him up, capturing his lips in a kiss and shoving his tongue into his mouth. Dorian moaned when Silas's teeth bit down into his lip, a little too loudly. "Now now, you're going to get us caught," Silas tsked as he gripped Dorian's wrist and turned him around, pressing his back against his chest as his hands moved down to his belt, and after opening it, he pulled the zipper of his pants down and let them fall to the floor with his boxers.

Dorian shivered a little as the cold air of his office bit at his skin, his dick twitching in annoyance at the chill. He gasped when he felt something wet and cold hit his hole and his head shot around to watch as Silas tossed a packet away from him with a smirk. "Don't make a... mess," Dorian hissed when Silas slipped one of his fingers inside of him. "Fuck," He gasped, his teeth clenching as he tried to fight back a moan at the feeling.

Silas's touch felt unnaturally good. No matter who he went to, no matter how they touched him, it never felt as good as when Silas touched him. He took him down to the barest parts of himself and left him exposed and aching, yet his body yearned for him. His mind gravitated to him, even when the man avoided him. He couldn't escape the desire to touch him--and to be touched by him. The latter was honestly the most worrying of the two. He didn't mind shoving Silas's face into a mattress and plowing him--It served him right to have someone put him in his place. But yet, he still craved the feeling of Silas moving inside of him.

"Either fuck me or I'm fucking you!" Dorian growled, pushing back into his hand as Silas worked a second finger inside of him. He tensed and bit down into his lip to silence himself as Silas's fingers curved and ground against his prostate almost immediately. Silas chuckled behind him as he applied more pressure onto it and Dorian let out a moan as pleasure consumed him for a moment.

"Always so impatient," Silas said in a taunting voice. "I was doing this for your benefit, but if you feel so adamantly that I should stop, that's fine. It's not me who'll have to figure out how to explain a sudden limp." Silas said as he leaned over him. Dorian whimpered, muffling it with his hand as his hips started rocking back into his fingers. Silas didn't bother stopping him, each movement of his hips had Silas's fingers slipping deeper and deeper into him and he could feel his desperation reaching a boiling point.

"Well then, get a fucking move on!" Dorian demanded, gripping the edge of his desk in preparation. Silas had the gall--the audacity--to laugh and keep working his fingers inside of him. "Are you deaf?" Dorian continued as Silas ran the other hand along the sensitive spot along his lower back, causing him to momentarily lose gravity. "Now!"

"You want me to fuck you so much it makes you look stupid," Silas tsked under his breath as he pulled his fingers out of his hole and pressed the tip of his erection against his hole. Dorian cried out when Silas snapped his hips forward and filled him in one smooth motion that left him breathless. "Make. Up. Your. Fucking. Mind." Each word was punctuated by a thrust that sent sparks flying behind his eyes, his blood rushing through his veins. Adrenaline, lust, and euphoria crashed down over him.

"Fuck," Dorian cried out, biting down on his arm in an attempt to muffle his noises as his eyes darted over to the door as if he could ward people away just by looking at it. Silas was much less concerned with discretion, he wasn't gentle. Dorian was sure Silas didn't have a gentle bone in his body, but he was absolutely desperate for him anyway. Every thrust jolted him forward, the fronts of his thighs were digging into his desk, but all he could do was moan and cling to the desk. It felt so good, to the point he worried he might lose his mind entirely. "Harder," Dorian gasped, his head leaning forward onto the desk as he panted for breath.

"You're loving this, Dorian. Absolutely gagging for it," Silas goaded, his fingers digging down into his hips hard enough that Dorian knew he'd have bruises. The noises falling off of his lips were hardly stifled, even with him biting down into his arm hard enough for tears to be prickling at his eyes. Fuck, fuck, someone was going to hear this--"What would your underlings think of this, hm? Seeing you with tears in your eyes and pleas for more coming out of their mouth." Fuck, the thought of that should horrify him, but it sent a shockwave of excitement straight through him and he cried out a little louder on accident. Silas chuckled and leaned over his back, making his breath catch in his throat as Silas's hand wrapped around his neck and pulled him up. "What a little slut."

Dorian should be angry, he should be furious. Silas had no right to call him a slut... and yet, all he could muster was a weak no as his cock pulsed between his legs. The grip around his throat was just enough to make him off balance, he could feel the circulation being cut off and he just sank back against Silas. Silas laughed into his ear, his other hand moving, fingers tweaking his nipples roughly and Dorian moaned at the painful pleasure taking him over.

Silas was way too good at multitasking. Dorian couldn't keep up. He was far too desperate, desire was coating everything, he could feel Silas's muscular chest pressing against his back, feel his breath on his neck, his cologne swirling around him and making him feel dizzy. Silas's quiet sounds in his ear were making his heart race. It felt too good to fight it--the passion, the heat, Dorian wanted him even if he hated him. Which honestly only made him hate him more, but perhaps that was a different problem altogether.

His composure was falling, crashing around him, his hand gripping Silas's wrist as his moans grew louder as Silas sped up his thrusts. Silas was fucking him so hard, so deep--he couldn't think. His brain had completely factory data reset, all he could focus on or think about was the way Silas felt inside of him--warm, so hard and thick, he swore it was his only arguably good feature. It was stretching him out and filling him so wonderfully. With every movement of Silas's cock he was rubbing against his prostate and he couldn't breathe.

"S-Silas, fuck," Dorian cried out when Silas pulled out of him and rolled him over onto his back, immediately pushing back into him. "Fuck!" Dorian cried out, his hands gripping Silas's shoulders as he reached deeper inside of him. Silas smirked down at him and braced himself on the desk by his head and started thrusting himself inside of him harder and faster.

"You're a messy little slut, look at you," the end of the statement was punctuated with a thrust that hit his prostate so hard sparks flashed behind his eyes and he was certain he was going to cum. The words made his eyes dart down to his cock and his face heated up. He was leaking all over his chest. For fucks sake, I can't even deny it, Dorian mentally groaned. It was too good. Silas took one of his legs into his hand and pushed it up to his abdomen and fuck. He just melted.

"Fuck, Silas, please," Dorian moaned, his back arching up as pleasure took over and he gave in. I surrender, he couldn't deny it. Not when he was covered in precum with his dick in his ass. Not when the only thing stopping him from being caught was sheer luck. "Harder," Dorian demanded, digging his nails into Silas's shoulders in an attempt to motivate him to let go and just wreck him. He wanted it to hurt, he wanted to struggle to sit down so he'd remember this. He wanted it to keep him up, to remind him how he was weak for one person.

Fucking hell, I hate you, Dorian wanted to scream it. But did he even really mean it? He felt it wasn't quite as accurate as he wanted it to be. Hating him was easier than admitting that he was under his skin, that he wanted to touch him and be touched by him. It gave him an excuse for the passion between them, the spark. It made him able to excuse everything because it didn't mean anything anyway.

"You are such a little whore, huh?" Silas teased, his hand wrapping around Dorian's cock and squeezing it. Dorian cried out Silas's name, his arm falling down over his face. He was supposed to hate him, why did he want him so much? "Louder, Dorian, let everyone know who's got you whining and whimpering like a little bitch in heat," Dorian squeezed his eyes shut, his heart speeding up in his chest more as he threaded his fingers through Silas's hair and pulled it roughly, but he had no rebuttal. As ashamed of it as he was, the words made his cock pulse and leak out precum. It pooled on his stomach and in his belly button a little, and he couldn't fight off the blush if he had been made to. "Don't be shy, scream for me. Let everyone know who's got you bent over your desk begging for dick." It was continual, the words clouding his mind and making him weaken more.

"F-Fuck off," Dorian moaned, gasping when Silas put his hand down on his stomach and held him down. "Keep the muscles at bay, hulk," Dorian demanded, but his words held little meaning. He wanted him to pin him down and fuck him until he cried until he couldn't take it anymore. Fuck, he wanted this man to destroy him.

"You're making such a mess," Silas tsked, leaning over him to look into his eyes. "You're getting less abrasive, I must be doing a good job," Dorian glared at him and panted, wiggling his hips a little.

"What are you, my grandpa? Fuck me harder." Dorian couldn't give him the satisfaction, couldn't admit he enjoyed this nearly as much as he did. He was bluffing, pushing. He couldn't boost Silas's ego any more than it was already boosted. Silas's eyes sparked with interest or maybe just sadistic pleasure. Silas smirked, his hand tangling into his hair and he pulled it. Hard. "Fuuuck," Dorian moaned loudly, his eyes rolling back as Silas's speed somehow managed to increase. He had no idea where the man's stamina came from, but he was sorely losing this battle of the wills.

"You sure are quick with the insults but you're lacking in delivery." Silas laughed breathlessly and met his eyes with a fiery gaze. "Surely you can do a better job of humiliating me than comparing me to your grandfather? Unless you've also been fucking him. In which case, that's more humiliating for you, isn't it?" Dorian whimpered, turning his head to bite into Silas's arm roughly.

"You're way too coherent right now," Dorian snarked, and Silas smirked a little.

"I guess that means you should amp up the ante, huh?" Why you fucking asshole... Dorian moved before Silas could stop him, pushing him away from him roughly. He stumbled a bit, giving Dorian the chance to push him down into his office chair and get back onto his dick before he even realized what hit him.

"Shut the fuck up," Dorian seethed, cutting him off as he put his hands on Silas's shoulders, holding himself up over him while simultaneously pinning him to the chair beneath him. Silas, the fucking prick, just looked up at him through arousal-darkened grey-green eyes, a knowing smirk tugging up the corners of his lips.

"Oooh, scary," Silas drawled, his voice laced with sadistic amusement, "What are you going to do now?" The husky, warm honeyed tone he used made Dorian's heart stutter a bit. "No matter what you do from here, there's no bad outcome for me." Silas hummed, raising his hands to grip Dorian's waist, the grip hard enough to make his breath rush from his lungs.

Fuck, Silas was right about that, Silas never cared either way how things ended up. If Dorian ended up fucking him into his bed while cursing him out, Silas would take it just as happily as he'd give it. There was no way to win. Silas always ended up getting what he wanted from him, either way. Maybe that was why Dorian found his very presence in the same space as him annoying... maybe it simply stemmed from Dorian's own need to feel above combined with the desire to also be below fighting each other.