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Yohji's head thudded loudly onto the desk in front of him. Hard enough to rattle the pencils in the little wire holder on top of Aya's computer.

"Yohji!" he hissed. "For fuck's sake!"

"But I'm bored," Yohji complained to the desk. "Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored. This isn't work. It's torture."

"You must have done paperwork before." Aya plucked a ruler from his drawer and prodded Yohji across the desk with it. "Detectives need to deal with invoices and reports."

"Asuka did all that. That's not what I brought to the partnership. She understood me."

"You mean she bitched at you constantly but you refused to do your share anyway," said Aya levelly.

Yohji raised his head. There was a post-it note stuck to one cheek. "You're a lot like her, you know."

"Not at all." Aya rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers in preparation for their return to the keyboard. "I have no intention of covering for your laziness and bad attitude."

Yohji gaped. "Bad attitude?! Bad... you are accusing me of having a bad attitude?! Well, know I've heard it all." There was a rustling sound, as Yohji huffed and busied himself with something just out of sight, hidden by his monitor.

Then, just as Aya was about to get back to work, thwap. A pellet of scrunched-up paper caught him squarely between the eyes.

He treated Yohji to a particularly scathing glare.

Yohji laughed.

Aya considered his next step very carefully. He dismissed both katana and scathing tongue in the end, thoughtfully bending back the tip of his ruler. Thin, unbreakable plastic. He picked up Yohji's missile and turned it over thoughtfully between his fingers.

He hadn't done this in years.

He aimed carefully, and....

Thwap.

Clean on the nose.

"Ow! You bastard, that hurt!"

"Shut up and get on with your work."

There was a giggle from the desk to Aya's left, but Kimiko took one look at Aya's face and sobered instantly. She gave an apologetic little cough and got straight back to work. As all the other employees were doing. Except, of course, Yohji.

This time Aya deflected the (larger) ball of paper with a negligent swipe of one hand. It missed Kimiko by the barest inch, making her squeal and giggle again, this time in Yohji's direction.

Yohji treated her to his most seductive smile.

"Work," hissed Aya. "Now. No more distractions. Just work."

Yohji sighed a deep, long-suffering sigh.

Aya returned to his assignment, eyes fixed determinedly on the screen, aware of Yohji's folding and fidgeting, but firmly ignoring it. Until, that was, a movement caught his eye. A tiny, folded post-it note was being lowered over his monitor on the end of a chain of paperclips.

"Kudoh," he growled.

"You're no fun," Yohji sighed. He got to his feet and stretched. "I'm taking a break." He patted the pocket of his expensive, well-cut suit trousers, locating cigarettes and lighter. "Back in ten. You coming, Aya?"

Aya checked the clock, a complaint about Yohji's timekeeping already on his lips. But, for once, he couldn't fault him. It was break time.

"I don't need a break," he said scathingly. "I'm going to finish this and get it copied for Mr Fakinawa's meeting at twelve."

"Asslicker," Yohji muttered under his breath as he slunk past Aya's desk.

Aya counted very slowly and carefully to ten before he dared so much as breathe. When he finally exhaled and focused once again on the screen, the post-it dangled there from its little chain, taunting him.

His name was written on it.

Aya plucked it from the clip and unfolded it. A note.

'You look incredibly hot in that suit. I'm getting hard right now, just looking at you. Photocopy room. Ten seconds. You know you want to. ~Yohji~'

Breath hitched in Aya's throat. He darted a guilty glance at Kimiko but of course she was oblivious, and anyway, now Yohji had gone she was fully absorbed in her work.

Aya's fingers flew over the keyboard for thirty seconds. Then he rose from his chair. Slowly. Calmly.

"I'm just going to... um..."

Kimiko looked up at him with a gracious smile. "Yes, Fujimiya-san?"

"Photocopy something," Aya said, and fled.

*******

Yohji was waiting with a pleased little smile on his face when Aya arrived in the photocopying room. Pleased enough that Aya could be sure he'd not been certain that he, Aya, would take the bait.

Aya found that strangely comforting.

"You," Aya started, but Yohji was too quick, taking his mouth in a long, hungry kiss. Aya kissed back just as savagely, making short, efficient work of Yohji's shirt and tie while he was about it. Loosening, unbuttoning, tugging, just enough to get his hands on firm, silky flesh. "We... only... have.. ten minutes..." he gasped.

"You'd be amazed at what I can do in ten minutes." Yohji turned them neatly around and hitched Aya up onto the huge photocopier. Making short work of Aya's fly and tugging his cock into a wash of cool, office-conditioned air.

"Oh God," Aya moaned as he watched Yohji engulf his cock in the wet heat of his mouth. "Oh God."

He was about to surrender to the bliss of Yohji's clever tongue, when the calm sensible part of his mind prodded him with a thought.

"Yohji, the door... someone could come in."

Big green eyes looked up at him; without pausing in his blowjob Yohji threw out wire, neatly snagging the door handle to a nearby filing cabinet.

Then Yohji got thoroughly back to work.

Aya arched back and landed on his elbows, sprawled across the copier as Yohji brought his body all at once to life. Hot desire and need coursed through him, making him shake and tremble under Yohji's touch.

Then the heat of Yohji's mouth vanished, leaving Aya gasping.

"Turn over," Yohji panted, opening his own pants, shoving them down. "I need your ass. Now."

"We don't have time!" Aya twisted around, knees splayed wide, head dropping down, hair skimming the cool glass surface he was kneeling on.

"Wanna bet?"

Cool gel landed with a splat on Aya's ass, dripping down, spread around by Yohji's nimble fingers.

"Yotan!" Aya spat, gasping for breath. Yohji's cock pressed hard against his thigh as Yohji worked the lube inside him.

"You'll do," Yohji breathed, and Aya could do little else than trust him, open up as calmly as he could manage while Yohji slid inside him, inch by inch.

Inch by glorious, fat, hard inch.

"Okay?" Gentle hands swept Aya's hair back from his face, clasped it in a tail at the nape of his neck.

"Yes." Aya shoved back, squirmed on Yohji's cock, gloried at the hot, hard flesh inside him. "Now."

Yohji rode him fast, one hand holding Aya's hair just hard enough that Aya could feel a tug, the other pulling on his cock. Hard and slick and perfect.

"Come for me," Yohji said, voice ragged breath and short, in rhythm with his thrusts. "Nearly there. Can't stop. Now, Aya, now..."

And that was all it took; a flash and Aya slammed a hand down in submission, clenched his teeth against a roar; heat and fury flowed through him to erupt from his clenching, aching cock. He thrust in Yohji's hand, arched back as Yohji gave his hair one last tug before he came.

Aya lost himself, aware only of the pounding in his ears and the white before his eyes as Yohji filled him.

"Ayan... Aya. Oh, Aya..."

Yohji's lips on his neck, fingers soothing on his scalp, stroking back his hair.

"Aya, baby, it's time to go. Break's over."

Slowly, Aya came back to his surroundings. Slid off the copier, back to earth, barely able to stand, much less to go back to work.

"Here." Yohji caught him neatly, kissed him briefly on the lips and pressed a wad of tissues into his hand. "Clean yourself up, I'll get the photocopier."

Aya blinked, Yohji's words making no sense at first. Then he realised. There were streaks of white, puddles on the glass where he'd come all over it.

He couldn't help but smile.

Yohji went back first, leaving Aya to gather his wits as best he could and follow a few minutes later. He paused at the restroom on the way, cursing his colouring in the plain mirror as he noticed the telltale flush across his cheeks and throat.

He splashed water on his heat-prickled skin, straightened his tie and took a deep breath.

Apart from a very disarming smile from Kimiko, all seemed just as usual on Aya's return. He sat down at his desk. Yohji was hard at work at last, barely looking up to acknowledge Aya's presence.

Aya stared intently at his screen, attempting to make words from the seemingly random dots and squiggles that he found there.

The paper-clip chain intruded once again on Aya's field of vision, with fresh cargo.

Aya plucked the paper from the clip with fingers that shook a little. He opened the neatly folded sheet and...

... stared.

He heard Yohji chuckling softly, smirking behind his screen. Aya swallowed hard and gawped in stunned silence at a perfect, crisp photocopy of a cock - his cock - caught in the instant, that blinding flash of bliss that was still as sharp as sunlight in his mind, a soft ache of pleasure in his body.

And underneath, in Yohji's sprawling hand:

'See you at lunch, Aya.'