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Never has a place felt more alive and boisterous than this. It’s quite ironic, when a number of these people lack the self-control to not waste all they have and ruin their lives in the process. Still, it’s extraordinary. Unique. Blaring lights; jazz music filling the air, almost completely drowned by the sound of the machines and various types of reactions to wins and losses; the strange combination of scents, from coins to heavy perfume to the sweat trickling down reddened faces, screwed up with concentration.

The movies almost have it perfect. Almost, but not quite. The intense atmosphere of a casino, brilliant and positive, yet the bringer of devastation all at once.

Damn it!” A fist collides with the table. “Surely you’re cheating? This is all I scam, I know it!”

Accustomed to such behaviour, Mikleo leans back in his chair, placing his hand on the leg resting on top of the other. “It’s a combination of luck and skill. If you lack in both, that is hardly my fault.”

“Why you—”

The man on the opposite side of the table lurches forward. Mikleo tenses, ready to retaliate if needed—self defence is not a common thing he requires, but has been known in this environment. However, a hand resting on the table and a figure leaning towards the man stops him in his tracks. He clearly hadn’t prepared himself for someone else to come along.

“You weren’t about to attack an employer, were you?” asks the voice of Sorey.

“No—no, of course I wasn’t, idiot.”

“Uh-huh.” Sorey appears unconvinced. “A loss is a loss. You weren’t forced to bet anything. Beat it, before I call security.” This is what he says, although Mikleo notices that Sorey seems to be resisting the urge to throw this man out himself.

Said man glares, knocking over a pile of betting chips as though this makes a reasonable stand, before he is storming away. Sorey’s other hand rubs Mikleo’s shoulder.

“He didn’t hit you, did he?”

“He was about to. I might have even let him—the lawsuit I could get from that … Then again, I’d feel bad considering I think he just lost everything.”

“These people, I swear.” Sorey shakes his head in disbelief. “I get the thrill from winning, but geez, I think they need therapy if they go this far.”

“You’d be right, too. Gambling is an addiction.” Mikleo tugs Sorey down by his shirt, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Do you ever button that thing up properly?”

“Like you’re complaining?”

Mikleo hums, scanning his eyes over the revealed chest, emphasised by the blue choker at the base of Sorey’s neck. “The only thing I complain about is that awful tie of yours.”

“It’s one of those things which is so bad it’s good.”

“If you say so.”

“I can show you later, if you like.” Sorey’s fingers play with Mikleo’s own tie, running his thumb over the metal of the broach. “We can have a bit of fun.”

“If you’re lucky.” Mikleo waves Sorey away. “Come on, we both have work to do.”

“Then I’ll be back later. Don’t invoke any lawsuits against violent guys while I’m gone.”

Mikleo laughs. “I’ll do my best.”

One might expect this kind of situation to be frightening. By now, however, Mikleo finds himself used to it. He has been working here for a few years already. The gambling scene brings out dreadful sides in some people, and that’s something he’s had to be aware of from the start.

It’s not as though it’s all awful. A majority of people are in far better control of themselves, and working here has brought Mikleo a number of relationships. Though this includes friends, the most clear of all is his relationship with Sorey. The two seemed to have a spark the moment they met.

After dancing around each other as friends and going on a few dates, they became official, and little changed afterwards. The teasing from their friend Zaveid stayed around the same level. They still bicker and have their usual banter, no different than when they were friends. The only obvious difference in the workplace is from the occasional homophobic remark they might receive if they act like a couple for a moment, although that is something else which isn’t tolerated. Mikleo has always appreciated that.

So really, everything is normal here, aside from what they might get up to after hours when they shut early.

Funny, we’re closing earlier tonight,’ Mikleo thinks to himself with amusement, this emotion kept away from his face as he deals cards to the three people sitting at his table. It’s likely that Sorey had known this himself when he suggested the two will get up to something. ‘Ha. He really has to do that, bring something up like that only to have me sitting around with anticipation.’

How irritating. Or at least, that’s how Mikleo acts. He can’t quite deny that how much of a tease Sorey can be is all part of the fun sometimes.

For a brief moment as he waits for the guests’ actions, he chances a glance in Sorey’s direction. Wow. The woman he is speaking to at the roulette table is really not making her attraction unknown. Then again, Mikleo cannot be jealous really. Anyone who is both attracted to men and has eyes wouldn’t be able to resist ogling like that.

Mikleo would do so himself a little more, if he didn’t have to reveal one of his cards, causing the person with a total of eighteen to groan as her chips are pulled further away from her.

He’s rather glad when another person actually does beat him at blackjack. This isn’t his money, after all—he is rather glad on other people’s behalf when they do win.

“Settling down a bit already.” Mikleo turns at the sound of Sorey’s voice, who has wandered back over. He heads to the other side of the table. Mikleo would scold him for sitting down whilst they’re working, but the room is definitely emptying.

“I’ve actually had a few losses tonight,” says Mikleo, fixing up his pile of cards and the various chips.

“Something up with you?”

“Hardly. Luck really is a big part of it.” Mikleo smirks, the frills of his sleeves folding over on the table as he rests his chin on his hands. “You’d know, considering you have to rely on that alone.”

“Excuse me, I’m a better liar than I used to be. And deceiving with the truth has its own uses.” Sorey’s voice grows more enthusiastic. “Oh wow! I can hardly believe I have such an amazing hand!”

“God. It’s no wonder you’ve confused people on if you’re being sarcastic or not. You’re more deceiving than people would expect, I’ll give you that much.”

Sorey grins. “I’m secretly a master of deception. Letting all my skills be known would be stupid.” His hand reaches over the table, trailing an index finger uncovered by his glove over the back of Mikleo’s own. “Are you used to losing by now? Enough pride to handle one more?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Maybe we could make a little bet of our own.” Sorey traces gentle circles over Mikleo’s hand, his smile almost innocent, although Mikleo is hardly oblivious enough to know otherwise.

“That can’t be good. What do you have in mind?”

The smile grows a little. Sorey leans forward over the table, ensuring not to rest his elbow on any of the cards or chips. His fingers still soft on Mikleo’s hand, as he meets the other’s eye and says, “I bet I can make you a begging mess tonight. Easily.”

Even Mikleo’s skills can’t stop the flicker of surprise on his face. He recovers quickly however, enough to say, “Being a bit over confident, aren’t we?”

“You can be the judge of that.”

“Should I say yes, you mean. And what’s the penalty for losing?”

“The winner can decide then.” Sorey straightens up, allowing his left hand to reach over to Mikleo’s face, tucking a few loose strands of hair back in place behind Mikleo’s ear. “Just wanted to take advantage of your losing streak a bit, you see.”

“I would hardly call losing to a few guests a ‘streak’. But whatever, you’re on.”

“No more losing before you get to me, okay angel?” Sorey’s playful, innocent smile returns as he lifts Mikleo’s chin, a small chuckle escaping him. “Oh, this is going to be so easy. You’re already blushing a bit!”

Mikleo rolls his eyes, brushing Sorey’s hand away. “Whatever you say. Get back to work, you slacker.”

“All right, all right! Geez, I can’t go ten minutes without you nagging.”

Sorey is grinning from amusement regardless, pressing a kiss to Mikleo’s head before he begins to walk away from the table.

“Would also be great if you ditched the God awful tie,” Mikleo calls after him.

He only gives Mikleo a thumbs up in return, to which Mikleo chuckles, flashing a smile to another customer heading over to him.



Their closing hour draws nearer. Usually, the casino is open far later into the night, although certain days and holidays are fortunate enough to allow them to finish early. Mikleo sighs in relief after drinking some water. It’s hardly been that rough of a day, but then again, he swears his temperature has risen since Sorey’s flirting with him.

The subject matter hasn’t dropped either, not when Sorey keeps subtly touching him as he walks by. Innocent touches. A brush over his shoulder, stroking over his waist, hardly anything unusual. It’s the context most of all. That Sorey hasn’t forgotten. Nor has Mikleo, who despite any outwardly appearances, is excited for their shift to end.

Sorey’s attitude is the most forward during a moment Mikleo has been perched on Sorey’s table for a moment. He slides off, smiling at Sorey and reminding him that they only have another thirty minutes. His walk away his halted with an arm around his waist.

A smile, lips planted on his own, long enough for the hand which has trailed over his back to lower to his backside and give a small squeeze.

Mikleo’s cool demeanour is broken instantly. Sorey turns around, acting normal, as Mikleo’s head swivels around. No one has noticed. Practically the only customers around now are those on slot machines. Their eyes are far too fixated on the screens to pay attention to much else.

Still, Sorey.’ Mikleo huffs, straightening his tie, narrowing his eyes as Sorey flashes him a smile as though to ask what’s wrong. That man. Always acting so pure, so innocent, no matter what he does.

God, how Mikleo loves it.

“Come on, out with ya!”

Before long, Zaveid, their colleague, is shooing the remaining customers out of the door. Sometimes threats of security—or even actually going through with these threats—is needed, but they’re in luck today. Now all that remains is to finish up after their shift.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that,” says Sorey to a cleaner, who is gathering some scattered chips. “Zaveid, Mikleo and I can lock up, want to leave us to it?”

“Oh, would I ever! I have drinks with a hot lady after this!”

“Don’t get anyone pregnant,” says Mikleo, watching as Zaveid places the set of keys into Sorey’s palm.

“Think I should be giving that warning to Sheps,” says Zaveid. Mikleo’s mouth drops open.

“Come on, I just want to give you a hand,” says Sorey. Zaveid grins, rolling his eyes.

“Sure, sure. See you in a couple of days.”

Zaveid waves, hesitating no longer to head out of the room. Now only Sorey and Mikleo remain, the room is almost eerily silent, all but for the quietened music yet to be switched off, and the distant sounds of the city outside.

“It’s almost like a horror movie, with us two being the only ones here,” says Mikleo.

“Looks like one of us is going to have to be the victim. What else would happen when there’s only two people leftover, after all?” Sorey’s fingers play with Mikleo’s tie, bringing him slightly closer. “Unless you would rather people return. Have a bit of a show for them.”

“Give over.” His hands rest on either side of Sorey’s face, trying to bring him in for a kiss, although a finger presses over Mikleo’s lips.

“Don’t go rushing.” He lowers his hand from Mikleo’s mouth. Runs it down the side of his neck, brushing over his shoulder. “Like you said before, I have got to do my job too.”

“Like you got them to go because you want to help.”

Sorey smiles. His hands run down either side of Mikleo’s waist, running over his hips. Slide together over his backside. Mikleo’s breath hitches. Sorey leans over him, mouth by his ear.

Mikleo hardly expected Sorey to say, “Regardless of the reason, I need to get this done. I’m a good guy, you know? I can’t say I’d do something for someone and then leave it.”


Mikleo’s teeth run over his bottom lip as Sorey’s hands squeeze, a kiss placed on the tip of his ear before Sorey walks away. The single violet eye which had shut opens. Sorey is returning to clearing up what the cleaner had been attending to.

“Sorey, really.”

“What?” Sorey straightens up, watching as Mikleo folds his arms.

“You can’t be all over me and then act like you weren’t doing anything.”

“But I just did.” Sorey continues his clean-up, adding, “Maybe if you wait patiently like a good boy, I’ll finally give my attention to you.”

Mikleo’s lips purse in annoyance. “Of course you’d wind me up and keep me waiting. Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because that’s the best way to get you worked up.”

Mikleo leans back against one of the tables, folding his arms. He doesn’t say anything. Lying and deception might be what he has to be skilled at, yet he knows Sorey would see through any lie regardless. Best way indeed. Keep him waiting, wondering, as the sparks from Sorey’s fingers touching him still linger.

Sorey leans against one of the tables once he has finished. His hands resting behind him, he smiles at Mikleo. “You really are impatient, aren’t you?”

“Hardly. You just really enjoy bigging yourself up.”

Mikleo heads over to him regardless, standing between his legs. Sorey’s hands are on him immediately. But only gently once again, fingers pressing lightly over Mikleo’s shirt. He has to stop himself from groaning.

“I’m not a delicate little flower.”

“Oh, I know you’re not.” Sorey brings his hands to Mikleo’s face, running his thumbs over his cheeks. “Anything but.”

And finally, he is brought in for a kiss. Mikleo’s response is immediate. Yet like Sorey, he holds himself back, showing that he too has self control. He kisses back with his arms wrapping around Sorey’s neck. Not too tightly, his fingers running through Sorey’s hair. He feels Sorey’s hands reach his waist in return.

Mikleo is the one to break free from Sorey’s lips. He presses a kiss to Sorey’s neck, hands still running through brown locks.

“Don’t you want to do more to me?” Mikleo asks, pressing a second kiss lower down. “All this teasing you’re doing can’t be affecting me alone.”

“I do more when I want to.” Sorey brings Mikleo back away from him by his shoulders. “Bit by bit … That’s going to be how I can get you to beg, right?”

Before Mikleo can respond, he is given a knowing look before Sorey rejoins their lips. There is more force this time. Mikleo hums in appreciation, his grip tightening around Sorey’s neck. Sorey’s hands shift down to Mikleo’s thighs.

With them, Mikleo is brought up easily onto Sorey’s lap, the latter not breaking their kiss. A tongue slips into Mikleo’s mouth. Mikleo quivers underneath the hands running up his thighs, gliding over his hips to his backside. A quiet moan escapes him as they squeeze.

Sorey parts their kiss. He presses his lips against Mikleo’s neck. “Your face is starting to get a little flushed, you know. How long are you going to be able to last?”

“Please. This is nothing.”

“I know.” Sorey nibbles at Mikleo’s earlobe, his hands continuing to caress. “That’s exactly why I don’t believe you, if you’re already getting a little worked up.”

Mikleo lifts Sorey’s head by his cheeks. Rejoins their lips, partly to shut him up, partly to prove himself. He realises this is counter-productive. Sorey’s tongue re-entering his mouth, after all, his unresisting hands—Mikleo is easily able to crumble underneath them.

Sorey’s legs shift. His hands return to Mikleo’s hips. Pull him closer, causing his crotch to grind on Sorey’s thigh. He’s glad to have Sorey muffle any sounds he makes. He hadn’t been able to prevent a whimper, embarrassment washing over him from the pitifulness of it.

These sounds are clearly what Sorey wants to hear. He breaks free from Mikleo’s mouth, chuckling as Mikleo holds his hand over it. An eye closes. Sorey has used Mikleo’s hips to cause him to grind again.

“You’re impossible.” Mikleo’s voice is slightly muffled underneath his palm.

“No, you’re just all talk, and even this gives you the temptation to beg a little.” Sorey urges Mikleo’s hand away from his mouth. “Isn’t that right?”

“In your dreams.”

“Mm, I don’t have to dream of anything when you’re right here.”

Sorey’s lips draw closer to Mikleo’s. The latter attempts to close the gap. Sorey backs away again, a teasing smirk tugging on his lips, before he presses them against Mikleo’s. It is only long enough to be able to pull back again with his teeth tugging on Mikleo’s bottom lip.

“Any second now—” Mikleo says, slightly breathless.


“—those trousers are going down, and I’m riding you right here.”

Sorey laughs. His body moves, hands reach underneath Mikleo’s arms. Before he can even react he is lifted from Sorey’s lap. Turned around and pushed down onto the table. Sorey’s hands have managed to take hold of Mikleo’s wrists in the process, pinning him down against the velvety green surface.

“Not today,” says Sorey. He raises an eyebrow as Mikleo squirms underneath Sorey’s grip. Less so as an actual attempt to get away, and more for show. To increase both of their arousal. “Come on, you think that’s going to work?” Sorey’s leans over Mikleo. “Not like you want it to, really.”

“Shut it, you.”

Sorey laughs again. Likely because of how weak of a response it is. Mikleo has to resist the urge to squirm underneath him, far too turned on than he cares to admit from being unable to free himself from Sorey’s hold on him.

He inhales sharply as Sorey edges closer to his neck. Lips return to it. Slowly, deeply, sucking onto the skin as he leads his trail to Mikleo’s collar. Sorey always enjoys leaving marks. High enough too, for others to see—it seems as though Mikleo will have to dab concealer on his neck once again.

Even if Sorey doesn’t want it to be hidden.

“Mm, I think we need to get this out of the way.” Sorey plants a kiss at the base of Mikleo’s throat, between each side of his collar. “I want to cover more of you, sweetheart.”

He kisses underneath Mikleo’s jaw. Plants another on his lips. A smile, far too sweet considering Mikleo notices the way Sorey’s eyes flicker to the wrists he is pinning down.

“I can’t exactly undress for you when I’m like this, you know,” says Mikleo.

“I know, and I don’t want you getting ahead of yourself and trying to use them, not when I’m taking my time … Leave them there for now, okay?”

“Ha. What makes you think I’ll do that?”

Sorey’s grip tightens. The pain is only slight. Enough to warn, same for the nip on Mikleo’s lip. “Because it’d be a shame to have to punish such a sweet little angel, wouldn’t it? Right underneath the security cameras too.”

Mikleo’s eyes widen, glancing up at the ceiling. “I—I always forget.”

“Don’t worry. They’re only checked overnight if a break-in or something actually happens. Still, just in case …” Sorey plants a kiss underneath Mikleo’s ear. “Still probably better to obey, right?”

“You’re impossible.”

Still, once Sorey has released his wrists, he keeps them rested by his head. God knows why Sorey doesn’t simply tie them. Perhaps that too is being drawn out. Keeping Mikleo on edge, waiting, wondering when Sorey will finally take the next step.

His hands are on Mikleo’s torso now he can use them. He unfastens the buttons on his waistcoat and shirt. Slowly. Again. Mikleo forces himself to not whine. He just wants those hands on him, not fiddling with all these buttons.

A chill meets his skin once Sorey pulls apart the waistcoat and shirt. Sorey smiles sweetly, trailing his finger up Mikleo’s chest. Mikleo shivers underneath.

“Please just—” He stops himself. Sorey’s smile turns into a grin.

“That was close. I won’t take one ‘please’ as begging though, not when I know how you actually beg. But we really are getting there, aren’t we?”

Mikleo turns his head to the side, feeling his embarrassment through the heat in his face. He bites at his lip as a tongue laps over the previous marks. It stops at a clear area, Sorey’s teeth catching the skin as he sucks down onto it. Mikleo’s eyes shut. He bites back a whimper. Desperation means he is losing, although he knows Sorey can sense it regardless of if he makes a noise or not.

“Don’t have to hold back love, you know.” Sorey’s kisses trail over Mikleo’s collarbone. “You can tell me what you want.”

“I told you that I’m not begging.”

“You can tell me without having to beg. It’s not my fault that’s what you always have to resort to.” Sorey’s mouth edges down Mikleo’s chest. The latter’s legs begin to squirm as Sorey stops short of his nipple. “I can’t blame you for being nervous to ask, though. You’re always so sensitive.”

Mikleo cannot prevent a moan as Sorey’s tongue laps over his nipple. His hands shift automatically, attempting to bring Sorey’s head closer. He whimpers as one of Sorey’s hands pins his wrists back down onto the table.

“Come on, love. I expect better than that.” Soft-spoken words. Mikleo gasps as Sorey’s teeth bite down lightly. “I really don’t want to have to keep you in check, you know.”

“Liar,” Mikleo manages to get out. He only receives a grin in return.

Sorey gives the nipple enough attention to have Mikleo squirming underneath. Even with only one hand pinning him down, it’s futile. He’s only able to control voicing his needs by the teeth on his lip. The kisses are continuing across his chest. He moans as the tongue reaches the other nipple. He’s crumbling by the second, feeling himself slip into that submissive headspace. It takes everything to not give in completely.

The teasing is painfully drawn out. The tongue merely light at first, Sorey’s other hand stroking down Mikleo’s body. He sucks down and bites the moment Mikleo moans. The moan becomes a pitiful, high-pitched whimper, and he’s practically wriggling underneath Sorey.

“God, you’re awful,” he says. Breathless already. Sorey grins against Mikleo’s skin, returning his teeth to the already swollen nipple. “Ngh—Sorey—”

“You’re trying so hard. It’s adorable.” Sorey leans back up, trailing his hand lower. Watching as Mikleo tenses as it stops at his hip. “But ‘awful?’ Considering how hard you’re getting, I don’t think that’s the word you really want to use.”

“Wow, getting hard over you teasing a sensitive area for the past ten minutes. It’s almost like my body naturally does that.”

“Come on, sweetheart, we know that’s not the only reason you’re hard.” Sorey’s eyes scan over Mikleo. The marked chest and neck, the wrists he is pinning down onto the table, reddened cheeks. “You just love losing control this way. You love me showing everyone you’re mine.”

Sorey’s hand releases Mikleo’s wrists. They’re kept in place by instinct. The hand instead reaches for Mikleo’s face, raising it by his chin. “And I love it too, you know. You always look so beautiful covered in the marks I give you.”

His eyes avert downwards. Squeeze shut as Sorey’s hand edges closer to his crotch. His hands close into fists, legs shifting, brought up to his torso—any movement to ground himself. It’s not enough to stifle a whine as Sorey’s hand palms the bulge in his trousers.

Shit, Sorey—”

“Yeah? Do you want me to do something else, Mikleo?”

A whimper is caught in his mouth as he presses his lips together. An arm is held over his face, sparks shooting through him as Sorey’s hand squeezes. He’s done for. He truly is, and Sorey knows it.

“No harm in losing, angel.” Sorey’s other hand takes hold of Mikleo’s tie. It’s used to guide him to sit up. Bring him closer to Sorey’s face. There is something in those green eyes, despite how his smile is sweet. “It’s okay. You know I’ll always take care of you, give you exactly what you need.”

Mikleo is only able to cover his mouth with his hand to muffle any sounds. It’s brought away when Mikleo is caught off guard. Sorey has taken hold of him by either side of his waist, easily throwing him over his shoulder.


“Need a bigger table, I think,” says Sorey. Offhanded and casual, as though he’s not making use of Mikleo’s embarrassing position to run a hand over his backside.

It’s only temporary. Mikleo is placed down onto the table typically used for roulette. He’s turned over on his stomach.

“Wait, Sorey, I-I—”

“What is it?” Genuine concern in Sorey’s voice, prepared to stop if needed, but he’s quick to realise the reason for Mikleo’s words. He’s resting his head on his arms. Partly hiding his reddened face, legs squirming again on the table.

Nervous by his own increased arousal. Unable to resist the mindset he’s falling into.

Sorey smiles gently. His hand runs up Mikeo’s thigh, a choked moan escaping Mikleo as it squeezes at an ass cheek. “Giving in, my love?”

Mikleo shakes his head. Possibly the most feeble lie he has ever given. And Sorey knows it, drawing closer as he glides his hand to the centre of his backside. Stroking his fingers down the crevice between his cheeks, where the material of his trousers has tightened. He presses down near his entrance.

He brings his arm closer to his mouth to muffle himself. Watches Sorey as those gloved hands are placed on either side of Mikleo’s hips.

“No need to be shy.” He lifts them, bringing Mikleo’s rear into the air. “You always look so adorable like this, Mikleo. Ready and waiting. Still …”

Mikleo’s arms are brought away from his head. He gasps as Sorey pins them at his lower back. His other hand has reached for his tie, tugging at the knot to loosen it.

“W-Wait, Sorey.” Mikleo wriggles underneath Sorey’s grip. It tightens a little to stop Mikleo breaking free. “I’m not—I’m not going to—”

“Be able to control yourself when you’re tied up all pretty?” The tie is slipped away from Sorey’s shirt. He begins to loop it around Mikleo’s wrists. “That’s the idea, angel.”

Mikleo bites at his lip. His squirming is useless. “I didn’t mean for you to do this when I said to ditch the tie.”

“Really? I thought that’s exactly what you meant. After all, it does look better like this.”

Sorey backs away when Mikleo’s hands are in place. Smiling sweetly, running his hand over Mikleo’s raised rear. The latter tugs at the tie. Shame washes over him over his position—or, more accurately, how much he enjoys it. And he can no longer hide how flushed his face is becoming.

All pretence of defiance seems to be leaving him. From simply the tying of his hands, he can feel his desire to submit increase, too aroused to do anything but do as Sorey says. He needs that man to touch him. To bring him pleasure, cause him to beg until his throat is hoarse.

He wants everything. He’s simply too stubborn to admit it without being pushed.

“Now then, sweetheart.” Mikleo moans weakly as Sorey runs his hand down between Mikleo’s legs. “Are you going to let me hear you beg, now?”

Mikleo shakes his head against the table. He’ll pretend to defy until the last moment, both for his pride and to provoke Sorey. The latter’s hand returns to Mikleo’s backside. Squeezing, before running over his hips to undo his trousers.

“Ngh, Sorey—”

The trousers now folded around his thighs, Sorey takes the opportunity to press his fingers over Mikleo’s entrance. The mere fabric of his underwear feels like nothing at all. He quivers, unable to stop himself edging back, despite how much more torturous it is the closer Sorey’s fingers are.

“It’s all either of us want.” The soft voice has returned, barely above a whisper. His fingers continue to tease through the underwear. “For you to get exactly what you need. You don’t want to resist. You’re just acting tough, aren’t you?”

A helpless whimper as Sorey’s hand reaches back to Mikleo’s front. It teases at his testicles through the underwear. Tears prick in Mikleo’s eyes. Desperate for that hand to do more, almost panting from arousal, knowing he lost the moment they started.

“Please,” he whispers, crying out from the stroking of Sorey’s hand.

“Please what?”

“Please, just—ngh—touch me Sorey, please—”

“But I already am, angel.”

“Ugh, don’t—you know what I mean! Ah—”

For Sorey’s hand has swiftly slapped Mikleo’s backside without warning. He strokes lightly after, a complete change in tone.

“Watch your mouth, Mikleo. I’ve already told you that I don’t want to have to punish you, didn’t I? And I know you can beg better than that.”

Sorey leaves his hand on Mikleo’s lower back as he leans down to his head. He nips at the tip of Mikleo’s ear, his breath blowing onto it as he speaks softly.

“You’re such a good boy really, aren’t you?” The hand raises, tracing the tie around Mikleo’s wrists. “Know exactly how to behave, what makes me happy. And you know I’ll reward you for it. Isn’t that right?”

Mikleo nods, eye closing as Sorey’s index finger wipes away the hint of a tear in his eye. It proceeds to brush strands of hair behind Mikleo’s ear.

“Words, angel. I want to hear you say it.”

“Please—” He swallows. “P-Please fuck me Sorey.”

“More. A little more, come on.”

“Please—I need you inside me, it’s all I—” His breath hitches as Sorey’s hand slips underneath his underwear. “Please. Please Sorey, I can’t—I can’t wait any longer. Please.”

Sorey chuckles. He presses a kiss to Mikleo’s temple, lifting his hand from inside Mikleo’s underwear to grasp at the waistband instead. He pulls it down slowly.

“That barely took any effort at all. I was waiting to have to throw you over my knee, but I guess you want to behave today. Either that or you really are begging for it.”

Mikleo nods. Casts aside his pride, allowing his submissiveness to take over him instead. “Please, Sorey—”

“All in good time. You did lose the bet, remember?” Sorey reaches into the pocket of his trousers. Mikleo is hardly surprised to see a small bottle of lube be pulled out from it. “What did we decide the winner would get?”

“They’d … They would decide when the time comes.”

“That’s right. And Mikleo, as much as I hate to tell you this, you’re practically giving me all I’d want right now.” Click. The lid is shut on the lube. The end of Sorey’s index finger, revealed from the style of his gloves, is now slathered in a coat of it. “Having you laid here this helpless, begging me to take you … It’s adorable. And it just seems a shame to not take advantage of it, especially as it’s not like we can do this that often here.”

Sorey glances around the room, smiling as his eyes return to Mikleo’s. “I know it’s probably humiliating for you, too. And I guess I’m just a bit of a tease.”

A bit? Mikleo is practically on the verge of moaning from the shame alone. Tied up on one of their work tables of all places, begging for Sorey—all the soft-spoken words and sweet pet names are a cover for how Sorey truly feels. Nothing can hide the amount of lust in those eyes. Lust over having so much control over his partner. Control that is easy for him.

“And if you lost, I reckon you can do me a favour, too.” Mikleo shivers as Sorey’s thumb runs down towards his entrance. Traces a circle, before the tip of his index finger presses against Mikleo’s entrance. The latter moans as it steadily enters. “After all, I can have whatever I want, can’t I?”

A broken whine as the finger begins to build a rhythm. Slow, steady, far too gentle for what Mikleo is craving. Sorey maintains it as he sits himself down on the table. Continues to reach when he is settled closer to Mikleo’s head, his other hand stroking through Mikleo’s hair.

“You like that, baby?”

“M-More, please—”

“Not just yet.” Sorey’s hand strokes down Mikleo’s face, lifting his face up by his chin. “I want you to use that pretty mouth of yours a little bit for me. Can you do that?”

Mikleo nods in Sorey’s hand. He knows better than to say no. When Sorey’s finger is inside him this way, even if gentle, he doubts he can even do so. Not that he wants to. Being penetrated on either end is all he wants.

“I can get more out of you than that.” Sorey runs his thumb over Mikleo’s bottom lip. “But we’ll get to it.”

Mikleo’s face settles back on the table as Sorey unfastens his trousers. They are pulled down alongside his underwear. He runs a hand up his dick once it’s free, smirking at the lust that forms instantly in Mikleo’s eyes.

“Be a good boy with this and I’ll give you everything you want.”

His finger pushes deeper inside. Mikleo moans against the head of Sorey’s cock. His tongue laps over it, running its course down before reaching the tip again. He takes it inside his mouth. It’s a struggle with his position and tied hands. Yet Sorey’s spare hand rests on the back of Mikleo’s head, keeping him in place. A moan escapes Sorey as Mikleo takes him further into his mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he says, rewarding Mikleo with a faster pace of his finger. “More.”

His eyes closing, Mikleo begins to build a rhythm on Sorey’s dick. He moans against it as the hand on the back of his head tightens. A slight sting, barely anything, but enough to keep him where he belongs.

“You’re doing so good … That’s it.”

Mikleo’s thighs rub against each other. His erection is almost painful, he’s desperate for it to be touched. But the hand on his hair tightening again for a second corrects him.

“No. Be patient, okay?” Sorey smiles as one of Mikleo’s eyes open. “If you think those little begs before were enough to satisfy me, then you’re wrong.”

Mikleo inhales deeply as Sorey lifts him from his cock. He whines pitifully as the finger leaves him. Sorey’s smile grows, watching Mikleo flinch as his hand lands back down harshly on his backside.

“I can change in an instant. Punish you if you don’t do what you’re told. You know that, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes, Sorey,” says Mikleo, unable to nod with the hand in his hair.

“Then let’s push you a little more. You want my cock back in your mouth, don’t you? You want to be a good boy and do as I say?” Mikleo whimpers from another slap. “Come on.”

“Yes Sorey, please—”

“My fingers in you, my cum on that adorable face … Is that what you want, angel?” One more spank. “Or am I going to have to treat you a little roughly to get you to listen?”

Mikleo cannot help but moan. “N-No, I—God, Sorey please, I—” A second moan. He’s far too caught up in this headspace to acknowledge shame over moaning from Sorey’s spanking. “Please. Please, do what you like to me, I—fuck—I need you, Sorey.”

“That’s more like it.” Sorey’s brings his hand to his face. His teeth take hold of the middle finger of his glove to tug it off his hand. He discards it to the side. Mikleo pants softly against the table’s surface, watching as Sorey picks up the lube once again to prepare more of his fingers. “You’re doing so good, you know that? You’re perfect, angel.”

He returns his fingers to Mikleo’s entrance. His index circles teasingly before returning inside. Before the middle finger joins, Sorey’s other hand is returning to Mikleo’s head. He gently caresses the back of his hair before bringing him back towards his cock.

“Good boy,” says Sorey with a groan; Mikleo’s tongue has trailed up its length. “You’re such a good boy. Always so beautiful when I’m in your mouth, aren’t you?”

The praise urges Mikleo on, causing him to bring Sorey back into his mouth once more. The pace inside him is faster this time. He moans against the cock in his mouth as the middle finger finally joins the first. He forces himself not to break his rhythm. All he wants is to please Sorey. And as his saliva from before has already made it much smoother, he falls into his pace easily.

The grip on him tightens a little with a moan. Mikleo’s eyes close from the sting in his scalp. The pain is light, especially compared to the slap at his rear when he finally falters, Sorey removing his fingers to do so.

“Keep it going. This is what I deserve for winning, remember?”

Mikleo gives a muffled reply. His hands have tightened into fists. Sorey has began to urge his head back and to by his hair, Mikleo doing all he can to follow. The pleasure coursing through him is causing his legs to tremble.

Another slap. Another. For a third finger, now Mikleo is prepared enough, had made its way inside also, before Sorey brought them out once again. The pleasure assaulting him is sending him off course. His moans are stifled, certain he could collapse under his body weight any second.

“You were being so good, Mikleo. Don’t make me hurt you for real. And I doubt you want me to stop, do you?”

Mikleo shakes his head the best he can. As Sorey re-enters him, he manages to maintain his pace.

“I wouldn’t want to come either. All over the table—that’d be quite shameful, wouldn’t it?”

As much as he’s already desperate for release, he obeys. Even as Sorey’s breaths become more rapid, his own climax clearly drawing near, Mikleo doesn’t dare to copy. He gasps for breath as he’s brought off Sorey’s cock.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Mikleo does so instantly. His brow creases as he feels the warm semen be released on him. Mostly in his mouth, yet droplets have splattered onto his cheeks also, just as Sorey wanted.

“Swallow.” Sorey smiles as Mikleo does so immediately. “That’s a good boy. You’re so cute like this. That cum dripping off you like that.” Sorey’s thumb lightly brushes over Mikleo’s lips. “And you enjoy it, don’t you?”

Mikleo nods, too breathless to actually speak. Sorey understands. He wipes his fingers on a tissue to give Mikleo a moment to regulate his breathing.

Once he has finally done so, he swallows, before saying, “Please, now can you …”

“Still so eager, aren’t you?” Mikleo whimpers as Sorey’s hand reaches underneath him. It has stroked over his erection, thumb teasing the end. “You want me to fuck you and let you come, right?”

Mikleo nods against the table. “Please, Sorey—”

“I love how you’ve long lost the bet, yet you’re still begging.” Mikleo stifles a moan with his teeth as Sorey’s hand strokes his length again. “Like I said, it’s just so natural for you, isn’t it? Still, I think I’ve teased enough now. You’ve already done so well.”

He takes hold of Mikleo’s upper arms to raise him up. Holding his head high by the tie around his neck, Sorey then scans the room, humming lightly under his breath. “Best to avoid getting the table all dirty. That’d be an interesting one to explain.”

Mikleo squirms against his bonds with impatience as Sorey straightens up for a moment. It turns out he’s shrugging off his waistcoat. As it slips to the floor, his fingers unfasten the remaining buttons of his shirt, this following as well. His hands then return to Mikleo.

He pulls the other towards him, so his legs straddle around his hips. He’s then lifted with ease. Before he can fight through his daze to question this, Sorey has pushed his back against a wall.

“Only a little longer,” says Sorey. Keeping Mikleo in place by his hips and the legs wrapped around him, Sorey pulls down his trousers once again. Mikleo whines into Sorey’s shoulder as the latter’s dick slips between his ass cheeks. Sorey continues to grind as he prepares the bottle of lube.

He lathers a layer of it over his erection. The head teases at Mikleo’s entrance. Sorey lowers his head to Mikleo’s, nipping lightly at the top of his ear. “One more time.”

“P-Please.” Mikleo is too perplexed to beg through more than incoherent words. “Please … Need you, Sorey—”

Sorey smiles against Mikleo’s head, pressing a kiss on top of it. “You’re so cute. You’re doing great, Mikleo.”

He thrusts himself forward. Mikleo releases a choked moan. His head buries itself deeper into Sorey’s shoulder as a rhythm is built. Steady, yet to be careful initially rather than continue to tease. The preparation allows Sorey to slip inside smoothly before long.

Mikleo can do little but pant against Sorey’s body. His throat aches from his moans. Embarrassment and shame from being this loud in a place they shouldn’t be doing this at all, yet arousal from doing so all the same—his body’s desires are finally granted.

His legs are exhausted. They tremble as they cling tightly to Sorey. Yet the last thing he wants is for Sorey to stop. The pace has increased with a groan, Mikleo certain he’s likely to have a couple of bruises from his back pressing into the wall, although is far from caring.

“S-Sorey,” he gasps out, sweat smearing from his forehead against Sorey’s skin as his head lowers. “I’m not—not going to be able,” he inhales sharply, “t-to last long.”

“Mm, then you better ask nicely, haven’t you?”

Mikleo cannot stop a frustrated groan. “You’re so—ah—you’re absolutely impossible—”

Sorey’s head leans against Mikleo’s. The latter can feel Sorey’s harsh breaths against him. “You’re just so hot like this, I really—really can’t resist.”

Mikleo shakes his head against Sorey. Still, a grin tugs at his open mouth, harsh gasps continuing to escape him. The sound of Sorey’s body slamming against his own echoes in his ears. He swears every single sense is haywire, far from touch alone.

“Th-Then please.” Mikleo’s nails have dug so far into his palms, he knows the marks will still be there tomorrow. “P-Please just let me come, Sorey.”

Another kiss on his head. “Since you’ve been so good, angel.”

Mikleo cries out as Sorey’s hand trails up his erection. A harsh bite of his lips, near useless to prevent his continuous, breathless moans. Sorey continues to pump it. Drawing nearer, the thrusts in him far too much to resist doing otherwise.

“Come on,” murmurs Sorey in his ear, kissing the tip of it. “It’s all right.”

He can barely hold on another minute. His body jolts against Sorey as he releases his load onto the other’s chest. A cry is stifled by Sorey’s shoulder. Mikleo’s own shoulders, after tensing from his climax, begin to slowly loosen. He finally raises his head when he feels the thrusts in him coming to a stop.

He finds himself too worn out to speak yet and question why. His eyes close, forehead resting at the side of Sorey’s neck. He’d rather not interrupt the words being spoken to him anyway.

“I’m so proud of you, Mikleo. I love you so much.”

Mikleo smiles against Sorey. He’s still trying to catch his breath as Sorey shifts his body so he’s being carried in Sorey’s arms. Only temporarily, simply to carry him back to a nearby table.

“Really, you did so well.” Sorey places a kiss down on the back of Mikleo’s neck. He’s currently untying his wrists. “Are you feeling okay?”

Mikleo nods, breathing out deeply. He brings his hands in front of himself once they are free. “I … I think so. Need a minute.”

He closes his eyes as Sorey pushes his fringe back, giving him room to place a kiss on Mikleo’s forehead. “I’ll grab some water from the bar. There should be wipes, too; I think the bathroom is already locked. Mind waiting here?”

Mikleo shakes his head. His smile returns as Sorey’s hands gently stroke down Mikleo’s arms, thumbs rubbing over the marks on his wrists.

“I’ll only be a moment.”

Another kiss on his cheek, before Sorey is heading over to the bar. Mikleo exhales deeply. His heart finally seems to be calming a little, his chest no longer begging for decent air. He takes the moment to pull up his trousers and fasten the buttons on his shirt and waistcoat. Or attempt to, anyway. His fingers are still trembling and need several attempts.

Sorey soon returns with two large glasses of water. Mikleo suspects he has smuggled the wipes into his pocket. He places one glass down on the table, this hand brushing over Mikleo’s shoulder as he hands him the other.

“Drink, okay? You still feeling all right?”

Mikleo nods, taking the glass. “Yeah. Just—thirsty. Real thirsty.”

Sorey laughs, his arm stretching around Mikleo properly, bringing him closer to kiss his temple. “Then definitely drink. Not too much at once, though. You still sound breathless.”

“Tell me about it.”

He’s careful not to gulp down too much at once, but the moment the water hits his throat, his whole body loosens from relief. He’s not the only one. Sorey is happily gulping it down too, sighing when he lets himself have a break.

“Man, I needed that.”

Mikleo finally comes for air as well. “You, uh, sure it’s okay you didn’t come again, though? I thought you might have continued nailing me into the wall until you were done.”

Sorey shakes his head. “We’re away from home. I didn’t want to drag it out so long when you don’t have a bed to get into.”

“Don’t tell me you jerked off when you went to go get water instead, then.”


“Actually, don’t answer that.” Mikleo smiles from amusement regardless, taking another sip of water before he drinks again. “Still, I appreciate it. And you were pretty decent.”

“And here comes the incredible compliments.” Sorey is now taking a wipe—he did indeed have them in his pocket after all—to wipe at his torso. And man, Mikleo had no chance to check that body out earlier, so he’s certainly not ashamed to watch now. A grin tugs on Sorey’s lips when he notices. “Come on, you could barely speak from moaning.”

“Fine. It was good. Really good. Sometimes I wonder how we’ll pull through without the freedom we have at home, but you make it work.”

“That’s more like it!”

Sorey takes another wipe, this time wiping Mikleo’s face with it. Said face blushes when a realisation dawns on him; that he hadn’t been able to wipe the cum on his face from earlier.

“Not to worry.” Sorey’s voice is teasing, although far lighter than before. “I think it makes you prettier—hey!”

Mikleo narrowly misses when he tries to kick Sorey’s shin. “Don’t. No comments.”

“Okay, okay …”

They continue wiping down, Sorey soon whipping deodorant out as well. It’s the best they have when the bathrooms have already been locked. Still, both smell and look more presentable to leave here, even if Mikleo’s legs still feel weak as he stands again.

“I could carry you home on my back?” Sorey suggests.

“Not in a million years will my pride let me. Come on, I want to get home and have a real bath.”

“And then we can catch up on the latest episode?”

“Oh, yeah.” He and Sorey are now heading towards the door, an arm looped around the former’s shoulders. “I almost forgot that episode was today.”

“Too distracted by me to remember.”

“Give over.”

Mikleo has edged closer to Sorey regardless. The latter smiles, locking the doors after themselves before they head down the street, the chilling air against their faces refreshing.

They have a couple of days yet to figure out their answers to the abundance of questions Zaveid is bound to have in store for them.