Work Text:
Ed did it on purpose. He had to be. He knew where the cameras were, knew who watched the recordings, and he wasn’t trying to be subtle. Or was he? Maybe not. It was possible he was trying to be subtle and he didn’t know who watched the recordings and he didn’t know where the cameras were.
Ed wasn’t an idiot. Nor was Stede.
Stede smiled. It took so long for the office to get dark and empty and while Stede had a lot to say about the merits of making yourself wait for something, really wait, waiting for the earth to make its full rotation got old.
But now here he was. Just Stede and his whiskey and his computer in the dark. And a file on his desktop, new as of ninety minutes ago. Just like the day before, and the day before that.
Stede sat back in his chair and got himself ready. And then he hit play.
On screen, Ed walked in. The camera was positioned behind one of the high ceiling beams but it showed the room in close, excellent detail. The long line of chairs at the heavy table, low lighting set into the wall and sun tunnels in the ceiling casting a very nice light over Ed’s face as he sat down in the chair he favoured. He swung his feet a bit, set his elbow on the table top and leaned back in his chair while he toyed with his lower lip, rubbing it between his fingers, apparently lost in thought.
Stede set his whiskey glass down on his leg. Balanced it in place.
Ed kept up his contemplative thing. He seemed to be considering the wall of windows, or something he could see through it. Perhaps it was just where his gaze was falling though. It sort of made him look like he was holding Stede’s gaze through the camera, although obviously not because either he didn’t know or he did and looking would spoil the game.
Stede repositioned the whiskey.
Ah. Now they were getting somewhere. Whatever was going on outside stopped being interesting and Ed rolled his shoulders back. He opened the button on his suit one-handed then rethought and took it off altogether, tossing the jacket over the back of a chair next to him—oh, no, two chairs away. Probably wise.
Stede made himself a bit more comfortable. He let himself sit forward. Just a little, to be sure he could see properly.
The door to Stede’s office opened and was quickly pulled closed again, followed by a muffled, “Sorry, uh, Stede. Sorry!”
What the fuck—
“Sorry! Don’t mind me, just gonna—come back tomorrow!”
Unfortunate but what could Stede do, really? It was late in the evening and the door was always open. Stede had been alone until learning this very moment that he wasn’t. A locked office would have raised as many questions as it saved. He sat lower and looked at the door. Okay. He would deal with this now. “What is it?”
The mouthy secretary stuck his head inside. Hair a mess, tie loose, and the boy needed to start bringing a razor to the office if he was going anywhere near clients with that much scruff on his face. Stede would check. Later.
“Wow, you’re here late, aren’t you,” said Lucius, and waved his stack of mail as he bustled all the way into Stede’s office as if he’d been invited to do so. “Didn’t expect to find you still—sorry? Didn’t mean to interrupt?”
A pair of sofas, a coffee table, and two high leather-backed chairs blocked the view under the desk from the door. Stede leaned back in his chair and continued watching Ed. Slow and quiet. Just like Ed in the recording, who certainly hadn’t stopped what he was doing and who wasn’t making any noise himself just yet. “No need to apologise. What is it?”
“I had, uh. I, sorry? Sorry?”
His voice changed. A bit. All right. Sorry was annoying. Sorry was unnecessary, what was the point of sorry, and why was the boy making it into a question. He could have left the mail outside for Stede’s secretary to deal with in the morning. “Just leave it—”
“I had, uh. Sorry.”
The Ed on screen had both hands under the table. It was a nice big table, heavy mahogany, the same as everyone else at the firm, or everyone else who had earned themselves a desk instead of a cubicle. Edward had as big a desk as anyone. And if he didn’t know what Stede was doing then why else would Ed be doing it at this desk instead of his own.
Ed took himself out of his pants. His mouth fell open. Stede was at his own desk. He took himself out of his pants and his mouth fell open too. Which went to show that it worked at your own desk.
“Is he—”
Stede didn’t stop anything. Lucius didn’t come closer or finish his sentence, just stood there like a lawn ornament. Like one of the flamingos the woman next door insisted on putting out every month until the HOA remembered to send a notice.
“I’m just looking at—well Ed’s wanking. Obviously.”
Stede started. Well, actually, he stopped. Just briefly.
His screen was turned away from the door. What the—how did he know? “What?”
Lucius took another step in. His gaze was directed a little off from Stede, a little way over his shoulder, like—oh. The window. It was pitch dark outside, the window must show Ed from the bright lunch hour in almost the same clarity as it did on Stede’s own computer screen. That meant the cleaning lady must have seen the same thing when she was in to empty the recycling. Perhaps a little less detailed, it had still been dusky when she was in. The dark side of dusky. It was the pissing time change again.
“I mean that is,” Stede dragged himself out of his crisis to return his attention to Lucius, who was speaking again. “That’s—I mean no one’s ever called me a prude but that is—some pretty blatant middle of the day hands down his pants—” He punctuated it with a jerk of his wrist "—action.”
Stede kept his eyes on Lucius, and Lucius kept his eyes on the window behind him. He laughed a bit. Was that nerves? “Man. He’s really going at it.”
Not really. Ed going at it meant his lower lip rolled under his teeth, legs spread, feet planted like he was bracing for impact. He’d have one hand pulling from just below the head of his penis and the other around his balls, rolling and occasionally pinching between two fingers, and his head would be tipped back over the chair, throat bared as if he was waiting for someone to come in and fill it.
This wasn’t that. This was just getting started, loose hold, eyes flickering, nothing much to see here. Just regular old beating off for now.
Still, Lucius looked enthralled. Not guilty, but interested. Invested. A little assessing, eyes ever so slightly narrowed in judgement. Eventually he was going to remember that the most interesting part was that Stede knew all this before he did.
Lucius took another step in. “Didn’t know they actually had tape in. Or whatever it is that goes in security cameras these days. Microchips or whatever.”
“Most of them don’t.” Because of course most of them weren’t located in the conference room on Ed’s floor nearest his office.
Lucius’s face twisted in an inane smirk. “Welp. Think he knows?”
Stede was going to miss the finish. Not yet, they weren’t quite close yet, but if this discussion continued then he would. Of course he could start the recording over once Lucius had left but that would spoil the pleasure of the first time. There was no telling how many more first times there might be and there were certainly fewer of those to be had than there were not-the-first times. And Lucius was no reason to ruin one of them.
Stede lifted a hand and tapped the space bar on his keyboard lightly. The image paused at Edward’s eyes all dark and heavy-lidded. Halfway through a blink. Mouth hanging like he was waiting for a cock to go in it. Or more likely a thumb, something that could hold down his tongue and keep him there. Fingers reaching around from behind to hold his jaw for him, give him something to sink his teeth into while he fucked his fist.
He still looked silly, frozen the way he was. Stede felt a curl of embarrassment hit at the sight of him. Embarrassment splashed with arousal, obviously. If it was Stede’s fingers on Ed’s tongue, it would be Stede’s penis pressed up against Ed’s hair. If Ed tipped his head back more, it would be up to Stede to drop something else on his mouth.
Lucius snorted at the window. “Awkward time for a glitch. Wait. Wait.”
He cut himself off, cut a look at Stede. “Did you just?” He continued before Stede could respond. “Is it glitching?”
Stede didn’t see much reason to respond. Lucius had got so far on his own cognition.
He didn’t seem very inclined to move though. In or out. He still had the bundle of mail in his hand.
Eventually Stede got bored. The first time was good but there was so much to do with this recording after the first time, too, and there was only so much of the night left. “Did you want something, Lucius?”
Lucius walked past the sofa, put the pile of mail on the coffee table, hesitated with Stede’s eyes on him, bent to pick it up again and walked all the way up to the desk. He put it down again in the tray at the corner. His eyes flickered over Stede’s shoulder at the window, then he made some sort of active decision and turned bodily to look at the screen–larger, clearer, more detailed than the reflection—and then at Stede.
His jaw dropped. “Ohhhhh my godddddddd. That’s. Okay. You’re.” He gestured.
Honestly, Stede thought dispassionately. What did he expect to find. He leaned back in his chair.
Lucius’ gaze went from Stede’s open pants, to his dick, flush and erect, to the whiskey glass pressed up against it.
Lucius swallowed. The click in his throat was loud.
“Was there something else?” Stede asked.
He could see the wheels turning in Lucius’s head. The boy was scruffy but smart, just because he took a bit to catch on here, Stede had a suspicion he wasn’t often caught off guard like this unless he wanted to be. He watched a decision settle over his face like a grey mist, narrowing his mouth and giving him something of a resigned look that quickly sank away.
Just to the side of Lucius’s face, Ed still sat frozen, his face in that desperate half-open, half-ready expression.
Nothing Stede said would change anything now. He lifted the hand with the whiskey glass still in it and tapped the space bar again with a finger. Put his hand back, enjoying the cool, smooth touch of the glass reminding him he didn’t get to touch. Yet.
Ed resumed jerking himself off. His hand moved from his dick to his mouth so he could lick the palm. He didn’t always do that, more often he just did with pre-come or sometimes lube from a little squeezy tube. Stede tapped the space bar again and leaned in to look at his tongue. It was mostly hidden by his hand but there was just a little slice of it if Stede leaned close enough, a part of his tongue that didn’t touch Ed’s palm at all because it was too far back behind his teeth.
Stede tapped the keyboard again and Ed’s hand went back to his dick, double-handed hold now; he moved the other hand to curl his fingers under his balls. That was more normal, swapping from one hand to the off hand and back a moment later. Stede had this ongoing mental note about shaking Ed’s hand so he might notice a callous or maybe some rough bit of skin. That seemed manageable, there were plenty of opportunities to shake a colleague’s hand. But how could he manage to touch the left one? A high-five wouldn’t do it. Besides, how unpleasant, as men in their 40s.
Was there some sport that called for a left-handed handshake, perhaps? Should Stede bind up his own right wrist, pay someone to put his arm in a cast? His daughter might be persuaded to try putting him in a cast as a sort of science experiment. Of course then he would be stuck dictating his notes and letters for the next three days to carry it off. Tiresome. Worth it?
The dilemma was a constant source of pleasure. Often the thought of getting to touch both of Ed’s palms was enough to bring himself to completion all on its own.
Stede made himself refocus just as Ed went back to his dominant hand, right on time. He smiled at the screen and moved a hand to the head of his own dick to reward himself.
A noise broke through, a choke or something. It was annoying. Stede tapped the space bar and scowled at Lucius still standing to the side. “Did you still need something?”
Lucius was staring. Pale but for the colour high and blotchy on his cheeks. He had the gormless look of any of the other first-years milling around the office floor. That was annoying too.
“Yes?”
“It’s just,” said Lucius, as if it was a complete sentence.
Stede waited and then returned his attention to the screen. He tapped the space bar and then pushed his chair out and spread his legs more. “Go on then. If you’re staying.”
Silence. Edward was starting to get into it, he had also pushed his chair out from the desk and it was easier to see what he was doing with his fingers. Stede wasn’t sure when that had happened, he would have to watch this again immediately after. It wasn’t his way to stop and rewind in the middle of a first watch, it lost some of the authenticity. Pausing to peer at the screen but not rewinding was similar but different. Stede didn’t do it very often.
Thud of knees on the floor, some sort of shuffle under the desk, and then a hot mouth replaced Stede’s fingers on the head of his penis, tongue circling and gradually getting lower until the mouth had sunk some way down, Lucius’s lips bumping up against the rim of the glass. Stede wasn’t done with that yet, the moment he let himself remove the glass and put it on the desk to take himself fully in hand was one of his most anticipated moments of all and it wasn’t time yet.
Lucius tried to force his mouth lower, apparently trying to brush the glass away with his mouth. Stede flicked a look down at him long enough to get a smooth hand in his hair and returned to watching Ed move the hand from his balls to his chest, rubbing at his nipple through his shirt. “Stop that,” Stede murmured, and tightened his fingers until Lucius pulled off, expression bratty enough to see even without looking at him dead on.
“Well help me out here. What do—”
“You’re the one who decided to stay. Figure it out or go.”
This time, Lucius didn’t go for the head. He turned his head and mouthed from the base and up, but with his mouth around the side. Tongue pressing and flattening against Stede’s erection like he was trying to catch the runoff on a melting ice lolly. Stede’s mouth opened in a sigh. The nice cool glass on one side of him and the hot wet tongue on the other. Christ. It felt very good.
Edward had his trousers all the way open now, pushed down his thighs so he could spread his legs wider. And he was pushing the fingers of his left hand into his own mouth. That was new. That was brand new, that had never happened before. Stede toyed with the idea of being annoyed that he had to share it with Lucius. But maybe it was actually a gift from the universe, today of all days.
He paused the video again and gave it a moment’s thought, tightened his fingers again so Lucius couldn’t move and leaned forward to be sure of what he was looking at. Two fingers, ring and middle, just the tips of them.
“Off,” he said to Lucius, and didn’t listen to whatever commentary he had to offer before manoeuvring his mouth back over his dick from the top. “Okay.”
Lucius took the head into his mouth again.
“Stop,” said Stede as soon as Lucius closed his lips. He examined the screen and nodded. “Don’t move.” He tapped the space bar again.
Lucius didn’t move. Ed did. He pulled at his dick with one hand and left the fingers of the other in his mouth. What was he doing? Was there something on his fingers? Was it the taste he liked? Stede moved Lucius’s head in the same tiny jerks as Ed was pressing with his fingers, trying to understand the impulse. Ed had never shown particular care for the taste of his ejaculate before. When he came, he cleaned himself up with a tissue from the middle of the table or wiped it on his undershirt or one very memorable occasion, used one of the folded company napkins that bore Stede’s name in embroidery—stroked Stede’s napkin all over his soft penis and then tossed it into the trash as he went to the door like it meant nothing. The memory alone was enough to make Stede’s dick get hard. Harder. It was a cause for bitter regret that he hadn’t got to watch the video in time to find the napkin, although of course he had spent quite some hours digging through the trash in search of it, and tried to deny himself his own hand until the following day in punishment for failing to do so.
Ed’s fingers weren’t really moving, Stede realised. His arm wasn’t flexing, there was no movement in the tendons in the back of his hand. But the fingers were vanishing fractionally into his mouth.
Stede shoved his glass on the desk. The whiskey sloshed. “Oh,” he breathed, oh, that was—Ed wasn’t fucking his mouth, he was suckling. Pressing his lips out and maybe drooling a bit, that was—and he was suckling on his own fingers because no one else had given him their fingers to suckle on. Just a nice gentle suck. And little—if Stede concentrated he thought might just be seeing little kitten licks of his tongue, too, just enough to see the touch of it. “Oh,” he said again, or more of a moan really, “Lucius, suck. Gently. Really little sucks, I should barely feel it, just enough to—that’s it,” he said, tightening and releasing his fingers in Lucius’s hair again approvingly. “That’s right, little—okay, a bit more now, you should, oh yes, okay, hollow your cheeks—harder, damn it—”
“Trying—”
“Shut up, don’t talk, quiet. Suck harder. Yes. Like that. Fuck, you like that, don’t you? That’s making you hard, it’s good, that’s it, you can touch yourself and suck and I’m sure that feels—”
The suck went wrong again so Stede smacked the space bar and stared down to find Lucius messing with his own belt, fumbling it open one-handed while he held Stede’s dick where he needed it with light fingers. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Lucius’s gaze ripped up his body. Now came the guilt, that high blush on his cheeks again. Christ alive. Stede shook his head in amazement. “Did I say you could do that?”
Lucius pulled off. His mouth glistened. “You said I could—touch myself and suck—”
“I said nothing of the kind. Do not do that.” Stede looked at the screen. Ed was so pretty like this, head straight rather than tipped back, like he’d discovered a new way of sitting while he was suckling and fondling himself with his other hand. Fondling and smacking himself. Stede felt a helpless surge of fondness overcome him. He smiled and put Lucius back where he’d been before. “Now. Suck. That’s right darling,” he murmured, watching Ed press the fingers in his mouth down a bit heavier, tipping forward very slightly as his hand on his dick got faster. “It feels good, doesn’t it? Oh, good. Take more. Even more. Jesus, you’re a born cocksucker, aren’t you. I could leave my cock there and your poor throat would hurt but you’d like it.”
This time, Lucius did as he was told. Swallowed all down Stede’s dick and stayed there while Stede watched Ed do the same thing to his fingers. He tried not to thrust against the back of Lucius’s throat even though it was hard not to let instinct take over and after all a wet mouth was a wet mouth. But it was just a stroke of luck that Lucius was here today to give him this and he’d likely only get the one shot at making it real so he couldn’t waste this.
Ed’s jerks were getting jerky, whatever he was doing with his hand was frustrating him, it wouldn’t last much longer, Stede just knew, he could tell, he knew Ed’s tells and he’d already put the glass down but with a mouth there to take away this would be almost as good.
“That’s it—hold it down—off!” He heaved a giant breath with Ed and yanked Lucius up at the same time, replacing the mouth with his own hand and jerking as hard and fast as he could, trying to keep pace with Ed even though it was difficult, there was that tiny delay that came with paying attention to the video that was still just pixels, and surely the blur was the shoddy tech rather than the actual speed of Ed’s hand but maybe not—he pulled his hand away just in time and sat at the edge of his seat to stare open-mouthed and delighted as Ed came, back arching and jerking against his chair, the one he liked to sit in just next to the head of the table, mouth forming swears and bitten off groans until he slumped back down again, chest heaving.
Stede beamed at the screen. He was so proud of Edward. He was so happy about him. He did something new today and he gave it his all and he didn’t even know that Stede was going to get to contribute something new of his own, too. What would Ed say if he knew? Stede was sure he’d be pleased. He’d probably blush a bit and get all gruff the way he did sometimes. Gruff and a bit open with that look on his face that was usually just for Stede after the lunch hour had already been filmed and delivered.
He looked for Lucius and found him where he’d shoved him, still on his knees, staring not at Stede’s face or his dick but—oh of course. At the recording reflected in the glass. Mouth a little open. Probably he was still aroused too, well, fine, so he had paid attention when Stede told him to stop after all. Stede was proud all over again. Ed was such a compelling cocksucker.
Stede gave it another moment to watch the video, at Ed now picking himself up and doing up his trousers and fixing his hair, until eventually he felt a prick of impatience and glanced at Lucius again. “You—yes. Well done.” What did you say in these sorts of situations? He patted Lucius’s shoulder without letting his fingers curl.
Lucius turned a look on him, wrecked and stupid. Ah well. Stede smiled blandly. What was taking him so long? He blinked down at Lucius. “That was very. Yes. Well. You can go now, if you want.” Another pat.
He watched as Lucius’s eyes unclouded. Went from hazy and woozy to—something else. Stede didn’t care. He stared while Lucius started trying to say something, stopped, tried something else, and then clambered up to his feet. Oh yes, there was his erection. Stede tried not to wrinkle his nose and located his whiskey on the desk instead. He took his first sip while Lucius was rearranging himself and his clothes, and watched Ed leave the room and someone else walk in exactly 30 seconds later at five to the hour to open a couple of windows, wipe down the table top and leave manila folders and name labels and water cups and jugs in strategic places.
He paused the video, skipped back fifteen seconds at a time until he got back to the moment the door first opened into the conference room, and then looked at Lucius. The boy was presentable again, finally, shirt tucked in and hair pushed back out of his face and so on.
Stede smiled at him. Properly this time. He thought this might be almost like getting a second first watch. A rare treat. A first time for everything! Stede smiled wider.
Lucius swallowed. Loudly. Again. He looked uneasy. And like he wanted to say something.
Really. All the time Stede had spent training the boy and this was how he reacted to something under pressure. Stede added another three months to his probation period.
Lucius finally managed to get his words out. “Thought you were—”
Oh. Well, duh. “Twenty years in June.” The picture of Mary stood pride of place by the hole punch on Stede’s desk. She was wearing a very nice dress in it and the children were smiling. It was very sunny. “You’ll come to the party, I’m sure.” There was usually a big hoopla somewhere. And twenty was a long time to stay married. Stede was sure everyone would be celebrating with him.
“Straight.”
Oh. That was odd. Stede returned his attention to his screen and found the video had started again. He hit the 15-second rewind furiously until he was back to the door opening on screen. Then he looked up again. “I am.”
Lucius stared. His mouth opened slightly. Or lifted, a bit, maybe? It was hard to say, Stede couldn’t describe it. Probably another millennial could have interpreted the expression for him. The question was puerile anyway. It had nothing to do with Ed.
Lucius still didn’t say anything. Eventually Stede lost interest and fumbled around for his own little lube thingy. Not the same one Ed sometimes used but that was intentional too. They both liked a portable lube for work but they liked different brands. That was something Stede liked that he knew about them both.
He drizzled his lube on his fingers. Then he looked at Lucius, then the door. “Did you want something else?”
Lucius left. Stede sat back and picked up his whiskey glass again and put it on his thigh to rest against his dick. The ice cube was still there, still in almost perfect lines and the whiskey smelled divine after that one tiny sip. He was still hard. He could go for a long time. And Ed was about to walk in for the second time. Stede hit play.