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cognitive resonance

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“Yes. I agree. We must do everything it takes to protect the earth. No, I do not agree, Lord Zaa. Your methods are despicable. Pick up your lightsaber, fool. We duel to the death.”

“Sir,” says Jeongguk, from the doorway, “are you talking to yourself again?”

“Of course not!” The gigantic leather swivel chair turns around slowly. Taehyung kicks his feet up onto his desk and leans back, sighing. What a comfortable, beautiful, magnificent chair. He’d paid good money for this chair. The only perk he really cares about when it comes to being the CEO of NASA. Who needs a big car, a big house, or big rings, when you can reenact dramatic movie scenes instead? “I was just on the phone, o’ secretary of mine.”

“Your phone is with me,” says Jeongguk dryly, holding up Taehyung’s Nokia 3310. “Also, are you ever going to change it? It keeps making these weird noises. I think it’s haunted.”

“How dare you suggest I get rid of my darling! I’ll dock your pay.”

Also, do new phones even come with Snake, these days?

Jeongguk snorts. “I don’t get paid enough as it is. Besides, even if you fired me, who else would you hire?”

“I’m sure there are many willing candidates,” says Taehyung. He pauses. “Also, how much does a Siamese cat cost?”

“Not enough to deal with all of your shit,” says Jeongguk, sighing, flipping through a file idly. Taehyung would have fired him months ago, if it weren’t for the fact that he had the most amazing mouth. Both figuratively and literally. He’s chewed out so many of the interns that no one even believes that he’s just a secretary anymore. Also, blowjobs. “I’ll Google cat prices later. You have two meetings this afternoon. And that UN representative is coming over again to discuss that satellite issue. Also, President Park is going to call in three hours. Shall I—”

“Yes,” says Taehyung immediately, “burn the office phone.”

“—tell him you’re busy, or just burn the office phone. Right. Got it.”

“Good boy,” says Taehyung, “I won’t dock your pay this week, then.”

“If I suck you off, can I get a raise instead?”

Taehyung taps his fingers on the table. Hmm. Does he have time for sex right now, or should he go back to imagining first contact with the otherworldly? “Schedule that in sometime later,” he concludes, and Jeongguk snorts, pen already scribbling across his clipboard absently. “There are much more important things at hand, right now.”

“Of course, sir,” says Jeongguk, “like approving the engineers’ budget, or keeping an eye on the asteroid belt surrounding the new galaxy—”

“Or mahjong!”

“—or mahjong. Right. Of course, sir.” Jeongguk closes the door behind him, mumbling, “Now, who the hell am I going to have to convince to play mahjong at nine in the morning?”

“Anyone but Jimin!” calls Taehyung, and Jeongguk’s voice can be heard saying, and why would anyone in their right mind ask the president to come over to play mahjong at nine in the morning.

Taehyung is still so proud of his best friend. Growing up together, you’d never think the unfortunate duo would eventually end up as important people. Well, Jimin’s important. Sort of. Presidents are important, right? But they don’t get to meet aliens, do they! Taehyung totally gets to! Someday! Checkmate, atheists. Or something.

“Why are we friends again?” asks Jimin, some hours later, his feet next to Taehyung’s on the table, leaning back in his slightly-less-impressive chair (that does not swivel). Jimin is the only one Taehyung will ever allow to treat his office like his own. Of course, Jeongguk already does that, but then again, who is Taehyung to complain, when the only time Jeongguk’s feet are up on the table is when he’s riding Taehyung’s cock in between telling him his next schedule for the day.

“You tell me.” Taehyung flips a mahjong tile. It flies off the table, and hits Jimin square in the cheek. “Also, didn’t I tell my secretary to get me anyone but you?”

“He showed me the melted phone.” Jimin rubs his face, and throws a piece back at Taehyung. Taehyung catches it, and stuffs it into a potted plant. Problem solved. “Besides, I was going to come over, anyway. Reminds me, are your toilet seats still heated?”

Taehyung wiggles his fingers towards the door. “Go on.”

The second Jimin leaves the room, Jeongguk pops his head around the door, and says, “Your two o’clock is here.”

“Send them in,” says Taehyung, attempting to juggle seven mahjong pieces at once. Jimin was totally on the verge of losing, anyway. “Will it be quick? Or should I kick Jimin out now?”

“Oh, it’ll be quick.” Jeongguk closes the door behind him, and slides straight onto Taehyung’s lap. “So,” he says, tone as casual as ever, “I’m here to discuss a raise.”

“What about the two o’clock?”

“I—” Jeongguk sends him a pointed look. Taehyung makes an ‘ooh’ sound. “Never mind. Pull down your pants.”

“You mean, pull down your pants, sir,” corrects Taehyung. “Learn some respect, secretary.”

“I’ll learn some respect when you learn to stop making me do all the paperwork,” says Jeongguk, sliding under the table, hands already pulling out Taehyung’s cock from his trousers, and—

Jimin opens the door. “Back,” he announces, as if that hadn’t been obvious enough (he never gets tired of announcing his arrival, as if Taehyung doesn’t see him do it enough on Twitter: @unitedstatesofchim back!! ! #urawesomeprez #turnup )

Beneath the table, Jeongguk mouths, don’t let him look under here, and Taehyung nearly knees the table in reaction to Jeongguk sliding his lips over the head of Taehyung’s cock, mouth wet and hot and tongue doing all the right things. “Fuck,” says Taehyung, and Jimin stares at him, “I mean... fornicate. Yes. My pet guppies have been fornicating most excitedly these days. I think they will multiply soon.”

“Okay,” says Jimin. “Congratulations?”

“Thank you. I am very excited about having grandchildren. I might cry.”

Jeongguk’s tongue drags up the side of Taehyung’s cock. Taehyung curls his fingers tight into the arm of his chair, and chances a glance downwards. Jeongguk glances back up, mischievous in the way he bobs his head up and down slowly, a hand reaching to thumb along Taehyung’s cock, a trail of saliva and pre-come dripping from his lower lip.

Does anyone else in the building have a secretary this hot, wonders Taehyung distantly, as he attempts to keep up conversation with Jimin, while Jeongguk sucks his cheeks in around Taehyung’s cock. Maybe Yoongi’s secretary, he decides, after hitting Jimin in the face with another mahjong tile on accident, when Jeongguk nips at the skin of his thigh. Yeah, Yoongi’s secretary is pretty hot too. Very nice ass. Maybe he should implement that new ‘Only Hot Secretaries Can Be Hired At NASA’ policy after all.

“See you on Friday,” says Jimin, and Taehyung blinks. Is Jimin leaving already? He couldn’t really tell. Jeongguk’s still lapping at his cock, and Taehyung’s been too busy trying to not let a single sound come out of his mouth. “Don’t screw me over this time! Our laser tag team sucks balls.”

“That’s not the only thing that sucks balls,” says Taehyung pleasantly, and Jeongguk nearly chokes, a laugh forced back down his throat. “See you.”

The door shuts. Jeongguk slides his mouth off Taehyung’s cock with a soft ‘pop,’ and says, “Finally. I thought he would never leave.”

“Please don’t tell me there’s another appointment after this,” says Taehyung, reaching down to run his hands through Jeongguk’s hair, biting his lip. “I’ll murder you.”

“None,” says Jeongguk, and he stands to his feet shakily, before jogging over to the door to lock it. He sits on the edge of Taehyung’s table, reaching into the top drawer, to pull out that little bottle of lube that somehow manages to refill itself all the time, and a condom that somehow has magically appeared out of nowhere. “You’re free for the next hour.”

“You’re getting the biggest Christmas bonus ever,” declares Taehyung. “Now, come here. Don’t leave me hanging, or I’ll do worse than murder you. I’ll expel you.”

“Everything you say either makes no sense, or comes from a Harry Potter movie,” sighs Jeongguk, fingers slick with lube, one foot balanced against the arm of Taehyung’s chair, “but you’re a great fuck, so I’ll excuse that.”

“That’s all that matters in this world, secretary,” says Taehyung grandly. “Fornication. And outer space.”

Jeongguk sinks down onto his cock with a soft moan, hands resting on Taehyung’s shoulders for balance. “Of course, sir,” he breathes, and Taehyung’s palms bracket Jeongguk’s hips, tightening when Jeongguk’s hips roll forward, taking him in deeper. “Sure.”

“Come on,” exhales Taehyung, and Jeongguk’s forehead presses against his, breath hitching when he fucks himself harder onto Taehyung’s cock, “Jesus.”

“Close, but nope, it’s secretary to you,” says Jeongguk, breathless, pressing his lips to the corner of Taehyung’s mouth.

“I had to hire the one kid with the attitude,” mutters Taehyung, letting out a loud, drawn-out groan when Jeongguk pulls himself up, and slams himself back down, picking up the pace, “ah—fuck, right there—”

“Touch me,” says Jeongguk, another moan slipping from his lips, practically bouncing in Taehyung’s lap, “please, fuck—”

Taehyung leans forward, kisses him hard, and says, “What’s the word?”

“Sir,” says Jeongguk, biting at Taehyung’s lower lip, “sir, please.”

If there’s one thing Taehyung’s good at, it’s using his hands, and Jeongguk knows that way too well by now. It only takes a few strokes before Jeongguk is coming across that nice white button-up he’d been wearing, and the way Jeongguk tenses around Taehyung’s cock is enough to set him off too, heat building up until he’s blowing his own load.

“God,” says Jeongguk, catching his breath as he kisses up Taehyung’s neck, “I love this job.”

“So do I,” agrees Taehyung, eyes closed for a moment, “outer space is amazing. Planets are so great. I love moons. Big Bang too. I meant the band, by that. I’m going to see them in concert next week, wanna come? Also, the big bang was pretty cool. I love that too.”

“Of course,” says Jeongguk, shaking his head. “So, how much is my bonus again?”