Dean Smith leans back in his desk chair, hands folded over his stomach, and gazes out the window at the nearby buildings. Wesson is on his way up, he knows, but it’s difficult being patient. That man has practically destroyed Dean’s self-control.
A soft knock at his office door makes him jump. “Come in,” he calls, turning his chair to face the door as it opens.
Sam quickly closes and locks the door behind him, drawing the blinds shut. Then he turns to look at Dean. “You wanted to see me?” he says, folding his arms over his broad chest.
“I did.” Dean presses the intercom button on his desk. “Ms. Rosemary, you may go to lunch. I want you back in an hour. I am not to be disturbed in the meantime.”
“Yes, sir,” the voice of his secretary replies.
“Do you have the research on the Owens case?” Dean asks, rising and circling around his desk.
“It’s all right here,” Sam replies, unfolding his arms so he can pat his bag.
Dean smiles. “I knew I could count on you. We’ll discuss the case later. Right now…” he wraps a hand around the back of Sam’s neck and pulls him down into a slow kiss.
Sam moans softly, submitting easily to the kiss. Big hands come up to hold Dean’s waist.
“I want to fuck you,” Dean murmurs against Sam’s lips. “How does that sound?”
“ Please ,” the younger man whines, fingers curling into the fabric of Dean's shirt. “Want it.”
“That’s what I thought.” Dean steps back, ignoring the small sound Sam makes at the loss of contact. “Strip for me, baby boy.”
He obeys immediately, setting his bag aside and ridding himself of his clothes. He folds each article carefully and sets them on the chair by the door. It’s one of Dean’s rules. When he’s fully naked, Sam straightens, hands at his sides, and waits for Dean’s next order.
Dean has been clearing off his desk while trying to keep from staring at the gorgeous man in front of him. “Come here,” he says, beckoning.
Sam’s cock is already at half mast and it bobs as he walks to Dean’s side. Dean places one hand between Sam’s shoulder blades and, wrapping his other hand around the man’s hip to steady him, pushes him to bend over the desk. Sam’s fully capable of assuming this position on his own, but he loves when Dean manhandles him.
“Spread your legs,” Dean commands, gently knocking Sam’s calves with his foot until he’s satisfied with how far apart they are.
Sam is gorgeous like this. His hands are behind his back, resting expectantly in the soft dip above his ass, and his legs are wide, which brings his body parallel to the floor. His cock is hard between his thighs, but Dean ignores it in favor of something else.
“I’m the only one who’s ever seen you like this, aren’t I?” Dean asks as he rubs the tip of one finger over the furled muscle.
“Is this one of those times when you want me to lie to protect your delicate emotions?” Sam says with a smirk.
Dean’s eyes narrow. He knows Sam’s just teasing, but that can’t stop the surge of jealousy in his chest. He pulls his hand back and brings it down with a sharp smack on one side of Sam’s ass.
Sam gasps, hips jerking and head flying up. He looks up his shoulder to meet Dean’s gaze.
“What do you say?” Dean asks, smacking the other cheek.
“Thank you, sir,” Sam says obediently.
“Good boy.” Dean rubs the red marks soothingly, and then returns to what he was doing before Sam decided to get snarky with him.
He pulls the small bottle of lube from his pocket and squirts some between Sam’s ass cheeks. The slick substance is cold, he knows, and Sam’s hole twitches at the contact. Dean slides a finger through it, rubbing it around and getting it to warm up before pushing one finger in.
Sam opens easily- they fucked just this morning and he’s still a little loose. His head falls forward, forehead making a soft thunk as it hits the surface of the desk.
Dean works him open quickly. Once he’s satisfied, he wipes his hand on a tissue and grabs Sam’s hair to yank him upright.
“Can you keep quiet or do I need to gag you?” Dean asks, grinding his clothed cock against Sam's ass.
“I can be quiet,” Sam breathes.
Dean lets go of his hair and pushes him back down onto the desk, undoing his pants with his other hand. He strokes his cock a few times before pushing slowly into his lover.
Sam groans and pushes back into the intrusion, taking Dean to the hilt. Dean rolls his eyes, but doesn't hesitate to begin fucking him hard and fast. Sam bites his lip to keep quiet, eyes squeezed shut, but a particularly hard thrust makes him cry out loudly.
Dean stops moving. “Are you sure I don’t need to gag you?”
“Maybe you need to gag me,” Sam admits.
“Yes or no, Wesson.”
“Yes, you need to gag me.”
Dean steps away. He walks around his desk to grab his spare tie from his bag, and then returns to his spot between his lover’s legs. He fits the fabric between Sam’s teeth, tying it carefully in the back.
“Turn around and sit on the desk,” Dean says.
Sam quickly does as he’s told, long muscular legs falling open as he settles on the edge of the desk. He shivers when Dean steps between his thighs and their cocks bump together
The sight of Sam sitting on his desk, gagged and hard, is one Dean wants to burn into his memory forever. So he whips out his phone and takes some pictures, moving around to get a variety of angles. Once he’s satisfied, he puts his phone away, lifts Sam’s thighs, and pushes into him without warning.
Sam’s head falls back, muffled moan escaping him. Dean begins to fuck him fast and hard, only pausing to yank Sam around until he’s lying back with his ass hanging off the desk. The slap-slap-slap sound of skin on skin fills the office, accompanied by Dean’s quiet grunts and Sam’s higher-pitched noises. His fingers grip the edge of the desk to keep him in place and his thighs are hooked over Dean’s arms.
Dean stops thrusting for a moment to pull Sam’s legs up onto his shoulders. He then leans forward, bending the flexible younger man in half as he captures his mouth in a fierce kiss.
“You’re taking me so well,” Dean tells him. “Such a good boy for me, sweetheart.”
Sam whines around the gag, eyes squeezed shut. One hand flies up to clutch desperately at Dean’s hair. This angle has Dean hitting his prostate dead on with every thrust and he knows the younger man isn’t going to last much longer.
“You have permission to cum,” Dean says when he feels the tell-tale fluttering of Sam’s hole around his cock. “Don’t hold back, baby boy. I want to see it.”
A few thrusts later, Sam’s body arches off the desk and he comes with a sharp cry, cock twitching and spurting between their bellies. His hole clenches around Dean, almost making him cum, too, but the older man manages to hold himself back. He watches the expressions Sam makes as he peaks, and then comes down.
“Beautiful,” Dean praises, continuing to thrust into the limp body beneath his own. A soft blush rises to Sam’s cheeks.
Dean fights back his orgasm so he can keep fucking Sam until his lover is writhing and whining with overstimulation, tears escaping into his hair. Only then does Dean let himself go. He comes deep inside, knowing Sam will be feeling it for the rest of the day. When he comes down from his high, he carefully pulls out.After removing the gag, he wraps Sam’s arms under his own knees, keeping his legs tucked against chest and his hips tipped up.
“Hold that,” he orders, stepping back and bending to get a good look at Sam’s puffy, fucked out hole. He pulls it open with his thumbs, feeling the flutter of the muscles around empty air. Then he walks around his desk and gets the plug he grabbed from their toy box that morning. He pushes it into Sam, watching the way his hole stretches around the widest point.
“Keep that in,” he says. “If you need to take it out, let me know. I want you walking around the office with my cum inside you for the rest of the day, though.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam says obediently, too fucked out too care even though Dean knows this plug is just the right size to press against his prostate constantly.
He’s going to care a whole lot when Dean gets out the remote for the plug’s vibrator.