Work Text:
It was far too early in the day for Lisgoe to be holding up a sex toy, especially when Ross should have left for work five minutes ago.
After taking his time to shower, shave and dress, Ross had made his breakfast so slowly that he had burned two batches of toast. His pace, although slow, was not leisurely. It was sluggish. He was filled with reluctance to spend another day breathing in the poisonous atmosphere of the job centre – A special blend of hopelessness and cigarette smoke.
To make matters worse, another day at the Job Centre meant more time with Pauline Campbell-Jones, who had fostered a personal vendetta against him. In her quest to make each day more humiliating than the last, she demanded his participation in almost every session. Last week, he had point-blank refused to engage in an activity, which had resulted in an unfortunate incident with a pot of drawing pins. Neither Ross nor Pauline walked away unscathed.
It had been the last straw. Ross insisted that he was never going back there again.
But then he cashed his payslip and looked around at the comfortable life he had built with his partner. All things considered, his life outside of work was better than he had ever thought it could be, certainly better than he deserved, and things would remain exactly as they were if he just persisted for a little while. After all, it wouldn’t take long to build a strong case against Pauline and get her struck off for good. Then it would be on to the next job and he could forget all about her.
With a quiet resolve to get through the day, Ross was crunching through overdone toast and washing it down with orange juice. Over the rim of his glass, he watched Lisgoe swan into the kitchen still dressed in his “pyjamas”, which amounted to a faded t-shirt and dark grey jogging bottoms. The smirk on his face contrasted with Ross’ sour expression. He seemed far too chipper, both for the time of day and for his character, but all became clear when, from his pocket, he produced a sleek black object - It could be nothing other than a butt plug.
In a slightly gravelly voice, Ross spoke his first words of the day.
“I’m already late for work.”
“Yeah, I know.” Came the indifferent reply.
Ross’ chair was drawn out from beneath the dining table with a sharp jolt that almost sloshed his juice over the rim of the glass. He hurriedly set it down, just as Lisgoe moved to unzip his fly.
“Seriously, I need to go.” He insisted, not making any attempt to move.
He found himself being yanked to his feet and roughly turned around. As his trousers and boxers were unceremoniously pulled down to just above the knee, he spread his hands on the kitchen counter to hold himself steady. Beside his left hand, Lisgoe set the butt plug on the countertop and Ross frowned at its presence in a food prep area.
“It’s new, relax.”
“Why’ve you bought a new one? We already have at least two.”
“They’re not like this.”
Ross’ frown shifted to one of confusion. It looked much like their other toys – Matte silicone, flared at the base and tapered to a smooth point. He couldn’t see anything remarkable in its design and was about to complain that it was a waste of money when, all of a sudden, his mind went entirely blank.
Lisgoe’s hand had found its way to Ross’ cock and was stroking steadily while the slicked-up fingers of his other hand pushed gently inside his body. Ross didn’t need much preparation; he was well-accustomed to being fucked. After a minute or so, the toy disappeared from the countertop to be slicked up and steadily pushed inside him. One hand resumed its stroking to ease the stretch as the toy breached him.
Once it was fully nestled inside, Lisgoe gave Ross’ arse a smack (which caused the toy to jolt in a way that made him gasp) and refastened his trousers.
“Wait, what?”
“I want you to go to work like that.”
“Joseph,” Ross hissed, “I’m not sitting at a desk with this inside me all day.”
“Oh but you are.”
Ross gulped. He knew that tone intimately – Lisgoe was not to be argued with. Sometimes he pushed his luck and tried to argue anyway, even after hearing that decisive inflection, but he was never successful. Besides, he didn’t have the time or energy to protest right now.
With a quick glance to check that there was nothing visible beneath his untucked shirt tails, Ross turned to Lisgoe, made pointed eye contact for a moment and then picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.
“I’ll be home around 4.”
With that, he stalked out of the house or, at least, tried to stalk out of the house. His actual gait was slightly impeded by the swell of silicone filling him up.
The morning dragged by painfully slowly. Pauline had hardly looked at him since the drawing pin incident so, even as he arrived late and took his time to unpack his bag, she did not acknowledge him. He was grateful for that. It lowered the risk of having to move around too much or engage in any roleplay activities.
The toy was impossible to forget; it made him feel vaguely uneasy and uncomfortably full but it quickly moved down the list of things he needed to pay attention to. Pauline started up a tirade about the worthlessness of the unemployed and Ross, slumped over his desk to feign note-taking, set the Dictaphone in his pocket to record.
At lunch time, he shuffled outside for some fresh air and identified the park bench covered in the least amount of bird shit to eat his lunch on. Whilst nibbling the chocolate off his KitKat (something he only did when he was sure nobody else was watching), he thought about what might be in store for him that evening. Lisgoe had never suggested such an elaborate preamble to sex before. Usually, he was a ‘slam you against the door and make you need him right there and then’ kind of lover. He must have had something particularly devious in mind to keep him plugged for hours, Ross thought.
He screwed up the chocolate bar wrapper and dropped it into his bag to dispose of later, at which point, a light drizzle began to fall. Taking that as his cue, he stood up gingerly and made his way back to the classroom with a weary sigh.
It was during a talk on the importance of networking that Ross first became aware of the toy’s true abilities. As Pauline lectured them on how to talk to professionals and make a good first impression, he felt a slight twinge inside of him. It was so subtle at first that he thought he must have imagined it, the same way that the tickle of a hair can easily be mistaken for an insect crawling over your skin. The brain plays tricks on you when it is bored and, throughout the duration of the Restart programme, Ross had become very well-acquainted with boredom. Consequently, he dismissed the vague pang as the work of a restless mind. For a couple of minutes, he refocussed his attention on Pauline’s patronising spiel but the feeling became steadily more distinct and harder to dismiss. The toy was definitely vibrating.
‘That bastard’ thought Ross as the vibration increased by another notch.
It was a good thing that Pauline had been avoiding him recently. She had grown accustomed to looking away from his corner of the room when addressing the class and, in that moment, Ross was glad that he was almost invisible to her. As a distinctly pleasurable sensation set in, his neutral expression was beginning to falter and he was fairly certain that his cheeks were turning red with the effort of keeping himself under control. His face certainly felt hot, as did the rest of his body. He reached up to tug at his shirt collar.
A sudden surge within him caught his breath and reshaped it into a low moan, which he hastily covered up with a cough. In a semi-instinctive move, he brought one of Pauline’s pens up to his mouth and placed it between his teeth, biting down hard enough to leave indents in the plastic. Pauline caught this action in her periphery and, for the first time in a week, she finally looked at him with a piercing scowl. Ross could not bring himself to care; the pen was the only thing keeping him quiet.
He closed one hand around the edge of the desk, beneath which, his hips had begun to roll ever so slightly, rubbing his cock against the fabric of his trousers and nudging the toy towards a particularly sensitive spot. As soon as he registered the way his body was responding – chasing pleasure in spite of the circumstances – he immediately froze.
Then, without warning, the intensity of the vibration jumped up by several notches and his hips jerked forward to angle the toy in the worst, or best, way possible. There was no way he could control his expression anymore. He dropped the pen with a clatter and let his head fall forward onto the desk which, naturally, attracted Pauline’s attention once again.
“What’s the matter, Ross?” She said in a condescending tone.
“Headache.” He replied, too softly to be heard with his face down on the table.
“Come again?” He was reluctant to come even once in the middle of a Restart class but it was starting to feel like a very real possibility. Having lost the ability to control his volume, Ross shouted it this time.
“I’ve got a headache!”
“Oh dear. Well, we’ll keep nice and quiet, won’t we gents? We’ll make sure Mr Ross’ headache doesn’t get any worse.”
When she started off a ‘call and response’ exercise, beating out a rhythm on the desk for the class to repeat back to her, Ross was somewhat relieved. Unheard over the din, he softly moaned, “Ohhh God.”
Immediately after the words left his mouth, he bit down on his bottom lip as a reminder that this was not the time or place to be losing control. Lisgoe was certainly making it difficult for him to stay composed. Even without touching, he could feel that his trousers were damp with pre-come.
As the tension in his lower stomach mounted and seared his body from the inside out, he let out a series of heavy breaths. Jesus Christ, he was going to come in his trousers if the vibrations persisted for a minute longer. Almost as though his thoughts had been heard, the toy stilled. Ghost vibrations reverberated around his body for a few seconds more and then, blessedly, his closeness began to subside.
“Ross,” Mickey said in a stage whisper, “Would you like a tablet?”
Ross took a deep breath and straightened up to see Mickey sliding a box of Tic Tacs towards him. He threw him a weak smile and shook his head slightly.
Pauline, having stopped banging on the table, heard the skittering of the sweets and sashayed over to Ross’ desk, ready to berate him. Drawing closer, her indignant march slowed to tentative steps and a concerned frown appeared on her face.
“You do actually look quite poorly. Look at you, all flushed and sweaty,” She laid a hand on his forehead. As much as it made his skin crawl, he couldn’t summon the will to bat her away, “I think a visit to the doctor is in order, get yourself away. You can stay back tomorrow night to make up your hours.”
Although surprised at his early dismissal, Ross gladly acquiesced. He gathered up his papers, stuffed them into his bag and, carrying said bag over his crotch to cover the wet patch, made his exit as quickly as he could manage.
Before the front door had swung shut, Ross was already pacing the house looking for Lisgoe.
“Joseph?” He called.
He heard a smug, self-satisfied, “Hmm?” coming from the kitchen and made his way down the corridor. Lisgoe was standing beside the dining table holding a steaming cup of coffee. He was dressed in his work clothes, so he must have spent at least a couple of hours at the office, though he clearly hadn’t put a full day’s work in. Ross’ eyes were drawn to his un-ironed shirt but he tried not to let his boyfriend’s lax attire bother him; there were more important matters to deal with first.
“I was literally seconds away from finishing, you prick. You could have gotten me fired.”
“It would only have been a problem if you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.” Lisgoe took a slow sip of coffee and, as he swallowed, seemed to process what Ross had said, “Wait, you didn’t come?”
“No, thank God.”
“I was sure that would have been long enough to finish the job.” He set down his mug, “Never mind, we’ll just have to sort you out now.”
Ross knew that he should have fought back, that he should have tried at least a little bit to maintain his righteous anger, but it was impossible to be anything other than boneless and malleable as Lisgoe guided him until the small of his back collided with the kitchen cabinet.
Lisgoe sank to his knees, stripping Ross from the waist down as he did. Without any teasing (Ross couldn’t have handled any more), he slid his lips over Ross’ cock which, having been intermittently hard all day, was now aching.
Ross felt Lisgoe hollow his cheeks around the first couple of inches and fumbled behind himself to brace his hands on the kitchen counter for the second time that day. Somewhat embarrassingly, his legs were already shaking. In one smooth motion, Lisgoe took him to the hilt and, with Ross’ cock nudging the back of his throat, shoved a hand into his own pocket to switch on the vibrator. The sudden surge knocked a sharp breath out of Ross.
The combination of being in such a heightened state for so long and Lisgoe’s eagerness to get him off coalesced.
He stuttered out, “’m gonna come,” and groaned loudly. His eyes rolled back and a series of uneven moans juddered out of him. As forceful shots of come hit the back of Lisgoe's throat, Ross registered a small coughing noise, but Lisgoe determinedly continued to bob his head until he had swallowed every last drop.
Then he sat back, eyes watering slightly. Ross fixed his clothes and Lisgoe cleared his throat once again before getting to his feet and looking at Ross with a taunting smile.
“Well, someone was obviously ready for it.”
“Evidently not you.” Ross said, mimicking Lisgoe’s spluttering, which earned him a gentle jab in the ribs, “Anyway, you shouldn’t have pushed me right to the edge this afternoon if you wanted it to last.”
Lisgoe paused contemplatively for a moment.
“It’s good to see you lose control like that. You should do it more often.”
“Make me.”