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Office Confrontations Ch. 01

By: fexcellent452



[[Be forewarned, this is not a straight-to-smut story. I myself prefer plot-driven stories, so that's what I write. Any and all comments welcome ^_^ and yes I know the title sucks, my creativity dies when confronted with story names]]

* 

"I hate that son of a bitch." Marshall ground out, glaring at the tall, dark-haired man two desks over. His back slumped forward and his feet kicked at the ground, eyes following the invisible dirt he pretended to shuffle around on the pristine carpet. Clara, the mail girl, was smiling and giggling, conspicuously attempting to hit on the man she clung to by means of jutting out her chest and shoving her voluptuous figure into the man's face. She was the office slut, and damn proud of it too. In fact, one of her favorite activities was to corrupt the innocent coworkers of the building. She'd successfully fucked sixty percent of the male population in the past eight months -- as long as she'd worked there -- and was trying to finish off the last forty percent before the end of her first year. Marshall always wondered if she'd lost a bet or she was just that much of a whore, but he was permanently a part of the never-been-fucked ratio of the equation because he knew for certain at least six of the guys she'd taken to bed were riddled with disease.

I don't feel like catching anything any time soon.

"Calm down. He's harmless." Aaron, Marshall's loud-mouthed best friend, ribbed him in the side and stood, balancing a notebook and three coffees in his brawny arms. "Hell, he's too embarrassed to look in Clara's eyes, much less fuck her. Get over it."

I am not jealous. I just hate that asshole.

Marshall ignored the reprimand, while in his mind continued ranting about every little thing, from Kyle's ugly glasses to his long, disheveled hair just barely held back by pale ears. And especially, especially those damn brown eyes. Eyes that pierced his soul and carved him out like the seeds of a pumpkin until he was hollow. As submissive and pathetic as Kyle was, his eyes could destroy worlds.

At least, they destroyed Marshall's.

"Like I give a fuck whether or not he bones that whore. I just can't stand his god-damned face. Or the way he whimpers all over the place like a kicked puppy. Fuck, can't he just grow a pair and act like a man?" Marshall snapped the stapler roughly with the hard bone of his palm, making a loud thwack that emanated throughout the floor. A few heads turned, including Kyle's, but Marshall wasn't paying attention. He was glaring at his laptop, not seeing any of the words or noting the numbers blurring together across the pixelated screen. No, he was imagining that delicate face, the surprising edge to Kyle's jawline, and the whimsical arch of his brow, usually hidden by the glasses tipped down his long, narrow nose. Pursed lips, quirked in a smug grin; intense dark eyes stared back at him in his mind's eye, as if Kyle were standing in front of him, watching him. Dissecting every second of his life, cutting away at his defenses and peeling out the gemstone hidden deep within his gut.

The bastard knew.

How Kyle knew, Marshall could never be certain. Maybe to normal people it wasn't obvious, or maybe it was. Maybe Marshall had muttered something that caused Kyle to believe it was true.

Hell, half the time Marshall didn't believe it. Instead, he ignored it, all of it. Ignorance made life bearable. But some nights, those rare nights drowned in alcohol, swimming in a pool of lies he could no longer hide from, Marshall could see nothing but the truth. Nothing but those damn eyes. Eyes that turned him on and terrified him all in one glance.

Marshall wanted Kyle. He needed Kyle. But most of all, he needed to be fucked by Kyle.

He wasn't gay. He'd never been gay; in his entire life, sleeping with women had been his only goal. Make money, sleep with hot chicks. Get a kick-ass car―to impress hot chicks and fuck them on the plush leather. He was a simple guy, he didn't want much more than that. He was twenty-four years old, plain brown hair, vivid blue eyes. A lean build, no extra muscle anywhere. Just an average Joe, looking for a good time.

Until that elevator ride three months ago.

Kyle had been carrying a stack of files, a good hundred of them it seemed, up to the finance floor, and as Marshall stepped into the elevator, he'd accidentally bumped into the poor man, that pathetic man with the stutter and the cowardly stance. Back then, he'd never thought much of the lanky, six-foot-tall nobody. There was no reason to. He was a quiet, shy guy. Ate alone every day -- not because he didn't have friends, though Marshall doubted he had any, but because he didn't want the company -- and rarely spoke to anyone at the firm. Just silence. For a while, Marshall had simply pitied the man for being so introverted, knowing that he'd probably never settle down; just go about day to day, existing. Alone.

When the stack crashed all over the elevator floor, most of the files flying everywhere and littering the elevator floor in a pile of thick, legal-sized paper, Marshall instantly dropped to his knees to assist Kyle. However, Kyle hadn't moved. He just stared down at Marshall, who was on all fours, quickly sweeping as much debris together until it was all in a mound at Kyle's feet.

About this time, Marshall had realized Kyle hadn't moved. He looked up, expecting to see that nervous gaze he was so used to seeing on Kyle's face, an irritated sneer crossing his own expression as he moved.

Predatory eyes looked down at him. Those eyes drove deeper into him at every passing second. His mouth, usually fluttering with stuttered apologies and quivering in fear, were drawn back in a smug expression, the right edge of his lip pulled slightly higher than the left. Kyle's eyebrow rose as he stared down at Marshall, and he kicked the entire stack of papers, careening across the floor all over again.

"What the--" Marshall's indignant response was instantly cut off.

"Pick them up." Kyle's surprisingly strong voice rang out through the elevator, which was as of yet unoccupied by any other office workers.

"But you just--" He tried again, but to no avail.

"Pick. Them. Up." Those terrifying eyes narrowed, brown irises sharpening with distaste. Without a thought, Marshall started picking them up again. As he realized his error, he lifted his gaze to Kyle's once more. The smug look was back in place, grin wider than before. He held out his hand and Marshall unwillingly placed the entire set back where they belonged. Ruffled, completely disorganized, but back where they belonged.

"Good boy." Without a second to go by, his expression shifted, and the dark, malevolent Kyle disappeared, replaced by the nervous one. The elevator doors opened and Marshall scrambled back up, muttering apologies to the three women stepping into the cramped space. Marshall purposely backed himself into the opposite corner across from Kyle and refused to make eye contact. Not that it would have mattered.

Kyle was bumbling about again, clucking his teeth and alternately biting his lip. The ladies trilled incessantly about bullshit no one else cared to listen to and the doors opened on Kyle's floor. He disappeared through the florescent-lit corridor, but Marshall swore he saw that expression again just as the doors closed.

After that day, Marshal refused to go within fifty feet of the man, with the exception of sitting in his cubicle. And he started despising the man that bore down on him, shoving him off his step in the dominant male pyramid and taking his place at the very top.

"Well, don't look now Marshall, but your best friend's walking this way." Marshall's head snapped up unwillingly to see Clara tugging at Kyle's arm. She pulled him urgently and dragged him over to Marshall's cubicle, smiling widely.

"Kyle here tells me you two have a lot in common." She winked and pulled back her shoulders, popping out her chest suggestively yet again. Hell, did she ever quit?

"No, I―I d-didn't...that's not―I j-j-just said we g-got the s-s-same project th-this quarter." Kyle dropped his head, hanging it down until his chin almost touched his chest. Marshall gulped. He hadn't heard the news.

"Oh hush, sweetie." Clara giggled, running her fingers across his arm. He shivered noticeably and tried to pull his arm away, but it was a weak gesture and Clara kept her hold on him almost possessively. "You're both going to be working on the same project, and both of you stay late every single day to finish your work! I don't know why you two have never talked before." Marshall couldn't figure out what her game was, but he didn't like it one bit. He was about to call her out when Aaron jostled him, knocking him into Clara with an obvious wriggling of his eyebrows.

"Oops, sorry man. Must've tripped." He grinned and Clara wrapped her arms around his torso, pulling him close.

"No harm done, cutie. You can get as close as you like." Marshall glared and pulled roughly away from Clara's grasp, rubbing at his forearms as if he could wipe away the tingling feeling on his arm where her uncouth hands lingered. Was it possible to catch a venereal disease from touching her arms? He prayed to God it wasn't. He lifted his eyes to survey the blonde and instead met the cold eyes of Kyle. Well, sort of. Kyle wasn't looking at Marshall. His eyes were narrowed for the briefest of seconds on Aaron, who was too busy laughing and trying to remember how to breathe to pay attention.

But as soon as Marshall noticed the breach of character, the expression was gone. Kyle tucked his head, long curls brushing against his chest and shoulders dramatically as he did so, and he began to sway slightly, taking teetering steps back.

 "I-I sh-should g-get goi-ing." He mumbled. Marshall didn't like the way that lilting, delicate voice made his chest twitch. The sound was nothing like the rough, dangerous voice Kyle had used on him months back. There was so much terror and nervousness in his voice as he spoke, Marshall could barely believe the two sounds came from the same throat. Clara, of course, wheeled on him and grabbed at his arms, though this time Kyle pointedly escaped with ease.

"Aw, honey, but we were just getting to know each other!" She teased, pouting lips jutting out in a melancholy expression that lost all sincerity when those same lips curled into a flirtatious grin. "At least come on by later? Get a drink with us? I'm sure the boys won't mind."

"Not at all!" Aaron, that damned imbecile, jumped up and crushed Marshall in his meaty arms to keep him quiet. Marshall still opened his mouth to protest, but Aaron wouldn't be disturbed, smoothly cutting off any chance of Marshall's protestations. "How about Barney's on Sixth? At nine o' clock?" Clara nodded profusely, causing her assets to bounce in all their silicone glory. Marshall rolled his eyes and grimaced, but she didn't notice. Her eyes were too busy ogling Aaron's easy grin and purposely flexed arms. Idiot.

Clara quickly returned to draping herself all over Kyle the second he made a move to leave. Speaking of which, Kyle was flinching and trying to escape her grasp -- without real effort behind it, because Marshall remembered the strength Kyle had exuded before -- and failing miserably. Clara's hand disappeared behind Kyle and she groped his ass, causing him to jump, and he literally yelped as he finally managed to get away.

"Don't think you're getting away that easy! You better be there, mister, or you'll get an earful tomorrow!" She giggled obnoxiously and he blushed, nodding his head just once before taking off and twitching into his own desk, though he was only a few feet further than he'd been standing seconds before.

Of course Marshall didn't watch his ass as he walked away...

"See you boys tonight!" Clara winked and jiggled off, swaying her hips like a stripper would for that extra twenty. Sickeningly, Aaron gobbled up every bit of it.

"Dude, you're not serious." Marshall grumped, glaring at Clara's departing figure. "Not only have you already hit that, but you caught a damn disease for your troubles!"

"Totally worth it!" He grinned.

Marshall needed to find new friends.

"Whatever. Next time, don't drag me into it." He muttered, resuming his original position beside the computer. Aaron chuckled.

"Relax, I'll keep her hands off you...and all over me." He pantomimed gyrating motions. Yeah, he needed new friends. Soon. "But don't even think about bailing. Someone's gotta be the sober driver!" He laughed and took off, probably to brag to his water cooler pals about his impending lay.

Dammit. I know him, he'll drag my ass out of my apartment kicking and screaming.

Why couldn't he just get through his day without all the complications? He sighed and returned to his work. Only another four hours before all Hell broke loose.

Fantastic.

* * *

"Marshall, are you coming?" The call came from the living room of the small, one bedroom apartment Marshall called home. Well, in the loosest of terms. In all honesty his place was shit. Broken dish washer, fridge on the fritz, a rotting green couch and a small goodwill television, incomplete with the eternally missing remote. His room wasn't any better, but at least the bed was comfortable. A four poster, Marshall got it at a steal when the local IKEA closed down. Really, it was the only salvageable item in the apartment.

"Marshall! Stop acting like a chick. Finish putting on your makeup and get your ass out here, I don't want to be late!" Marshall scoffed.

"Calm down. What, you afraid Kyle's gonna steal your date?"

"Wouldn't put it past the prick, she was all over him earlier." Aaron's mumbled reply made Marshall want to laugh and curse at the same time. Funny that his well-built, six-foot-two best friend with a thick mane of blond hair and a set of perfect teeth was terrified the spindly little grasshopper with glasses would steal his date, but rage-inducing because Marshall had to tag along regardless.

And he didn't want to see Kyle. At all.

Then again, that was all Marshall could think about. Now that he'd found he couldn't avoid the man, having to speak to him daily was terrifying him. The gangly loser shouldn't have frightened him, but the way he'd shifted from bumbling to deadly in a split second made him wonder what else that four-eyed freak was hiding behind the wimpy exterior. He almost didn't want to know.

"Dude, what are you wearing?" Marshall had walked into the living room to see Aaron standing there, tapping his foot impatiently and checking his phone. Unfortunately, his eyes were raking in Marshall's slightly gussied up outfit with distaste.

"Clothes?" He responded intelligently. "What's wrong with them?" He looked down at the dark slacks and the navy blue button-up shirt he'd tugged on, along with a thick jacket to keep him from freezing his nuts off out there in the January weather.

"You look like you're about to go on a date. Did you invite someone special without telling me?" Aaron grinned and tugged Marshall into a noogie by the neck.

"Get the fuck off! I just put on clothes, geez, I didn't realize you cared so much about what I wore." He grunted, grazing his hands through the slightly damp brown locks. Aaron laughed and tossed something at him. Marshall barely caught the keys.

"What are these for?" He asked stupidly.

"So I don't try to drive home, duh. I figured we should take my nice, shiny Volvo rather than your beat up piece of shit truck."

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with my truck!" He responded, defending his loveable but less-than-mint-condition Ford pick-up.

"Really, Marsh? She looks like garbage. Got enough dents in her most people assume she's gonna get towed to the junk yard any day now. Why haven't you gotten her to a body shop again?"

"Can't spare the cash... she's not that bad, okay? Leave Delilah out of this." He grumbled, replacing the keys in the bowl, taking care to grab his spare house keys as he ushered the idiot out.

"Whatever. Maybe I'll loan you the cash, I just can't stand lookin' at the damn thing. Hideous, she is." Marshall muttered something incoherent that sounded a lot like go fuck yourself, trust-fund bitch and locked up.

It didn't take long to get to the building's parking garage, and the bar was only ten minutes away, but it felt longer as Aaron described in gory detail every moan and thrust like a play-by-play of his last hook up.

"Not much of an ass, but you should have seen the rack on her!" Marshall had desperately tried to tune Aaron out with music, but not even the growling, almost unintelligible Osborne lyrics made things better.

"Yeah, yeah. She was hot, you fucked like monkeys. Can we move on?" Marshall responded, voice tight with irritation. "Besides we're here." Thank god.

"Finally!" Before the car was even parked, Aaron was out the door and rushing toward the family owned bar'n'grill at breakneck speed. Marshall moved much slower, trying to procrastinate the best he could. Didn't work. Eventually he'd unbuckled the seat belt, adjusted all my mirrors at least twice, and had reset all of Aaron's radio stations; there was nothing else he could do but shut off the car and step out.

"Ugh, might as well get this shit over with." He muttered, popping open the silver door and stepping out into the cold. The frigid air caused his exhalations to billow out in clouds of mist, and he tucked the jacket closer around his shoulders, ducking into the surprisingly brightly-lit bar, searching out Aaron and Clara, who was undoubtedly rubbing up against him like a cat in heat.

His speculations were proved correct. There she was, tucked into a booth and sitting on his lap, giggling loud enough for Marshall to hear as he approached. He restrained the groan.

"There you are! What took you so long?" Aaron asked, grinning brightly and not-so-subtly copping a feel.

"Phone call. My sister, you know how she worries." He lied through his teeth. Thankfully they didn't seem to notice, and Aaron didn't mention the fact that Marshall was an only child. Probably forgot as his hands grazed the unbound nipples peeking through Clara's tight pink top.

"Sit down Marshall! Join us!" Clara smiled and pointed to the booth across from her, expecting him to listen like a whipped dog. He set his teeth and sat down gingerly.

"Now we're just waiting for Kyle!" She gushed, as if the news was the greatest thing she'd ever heard. Surreptitiously, Marshall checked his watch. Eight fifty-five. They'd all been early. Kyle didn't strike him as the fashionably late type, so Marshall still hoped the cretin wouldn't show up.

Unfortunately, luck didn't smile down on him that night. Just three minutes into the conversation focused on how natural Clara looked as a blonde, something gawky stumbled over, practically landing on top of Marshall in the process.

"What the--" He threw his arms up, attempting to catch the invading body. Thankfully Kyle righted himself just before landing in Marshall's lap and took a step back, running his hands across his arms and shifting nervously.

"S-sorry, I tr-tripp-ped." He stammered, avoiding eye contact already. Marshall sighed.

"It's fine. Forget about it." Marshall waved it off and almost unwillingly scooted over to the wall of the booth, making room.

"Kyle!" Again, Clara's grating squeal permeated the air and she bounced in Aaron's lap, smiling at the pathetic loser and pointing at the seat next to me. "I'm so glad you're here. I thought you were gonna ditch us." She giggled again and covered her mouth coyly, but that didn't affect Kyle at all. He was still staring at the floor like he was waiting for the carpet to rise up and sweep him off into the night. Marshall was hoping for the same thing.


Office Confrontations Ch. 01



"Come on, sit down and join us!" she cajoled again. He shivered perceptively and slowly lifted his head to look at Marshall. For a second Marshall's heart stopped, expecting that dark look again, but he was confronted with that pitiful, teary-eyed face staring at him. A frightened bunny look greeted him, with Kyle constantly flicking his eyes down as he tried to maintain his gaze. Marshall sighed.

"Well, don't just stand there all day. Take a seat. I'm not going to bite." He tried to make his voice sound pleasant, but it probably came off a bit rude and choppy. He shrugged inwardly. Didn't matter, he wasn't looking to make an impression, he was merely there to kill time until he could take off. After a hesitating second, Kyle dropped ungracefully beside him, making the seat jolt. His hands stayed wrapped up in his lap and his gaze was focused pointedly on the table.

"Now that everyone's here, it's time to have some fun!" Clara announced, running a stray foot against Marshall's. He pulled back his foot without comment, but Kyle -- who Marshall assumed had been gifted with the same sleazy touch -- yelped and his eyes jumped up, staring wide-eyed at Clara, who winked at him suggestively. He blushed and ducked his head again, and Marshall could see him tuck his feet away as well.

"Yes, I like the way you're thinking." Aaron was all about the flirting. He loved a good dirty talk as much as he liked gabbing about his bed partners afterward, and Marshall unfortunately could attest to that. "Let's see...shall we grab a meal or a drink first? Bar's right over there." He motioned toward the long counter with a dozen spinning stools. A gritty older gentleman was filling pitchers and a slightly younger woman was mixing drinks. For some reason these details mattered to Marshall, so he took in everything.

Anything was better than staring at the quivering puppy beside him. His mouth soured simply at the thought, so he grunted noncommittally.

"I could go for a nice, tall glass." Clara teased, running her fingers along Aaron's forearm. Marshall should have stuck to watching the older couple behind the bar. At least they didn't make him want to gag. "Why don't you get me something tasty, huh big boy?" She crooned, and Aaron was up, hopping out of the booth within seconds.

"Whatever you want, Clare-Bear." He smiled with a glint of teeth.

"Something sweet just like you cutie." Ugh, Marshall would've puked up his dinner if he'd eaten anything before the sick love-fest. Or, rather, lust-fest. Neither of them wanted anything more than to fuck in the bathroom stalls. Marshall moved to get up and assist him, thankful to find some way to get away from Kyle, but that process was hindered by Kyle himself, who had sequestered Marshall in the booth by sitting on the outside edge. His eyes looked up, widened in surprise and confusion, as Marshall stopped in his scooting and resisted the urge to glare.

"Gonna get up?" He asked roughly. Kyle almost fell over himself trying to stand.

"Don't worry about it bro, I'll just take Kyle here with me. Keep him from flirting with my date." Aaron winked at Clara and tugged Kyle into a standing position, making sure to sling an arm around the thin male's shoulders to keep him from toppling over. "Let's go." He demanded, dragging Kyle off with him, and Marshall watched them leave, grimacing every time that little bastard tripped over the carpet or a waitress or his own two feet. He sighed to himself and attempted to avert his gaze.

"So, Marshall...we've never really spoken, have we?" Clara asked, causing Marshall to look over toward the busty blonde. He shrugged noncommittally. "You're a quiet one, huh? I hadn't pegged you as the silent type." She smirked, eyes shimmering with more than simple amusement.

"I'm not. Just don't feel up to keeping a conversation." He muttered, turning his head from her expectant eyes and following the cracked design on the table top with his fingers.

"Ooh, just wanna get right down to it then." She reached forward and claimed his hands, running her palms across his forearms to his biceps. Marshall flinched and tried to tug back, but she'd risen in her seat, caressing his pectorals. "Firm, too. Aren't I just so lucky! You've been avoiding me, Marshall, but I've got you now." She blew kisses at Marshall and attempted to moved closer, to claim his mouth.

"Sorry, not gonna happen." He explained brusquely, removing her hands from his chest and pushing her back into her seat. The look in her eyes said she had something more than kinks on the brain. She smirked and sat back, face more expressive than he'd given her credit before―Marshall had assumed the only faces she could make were slutty cum faces and 'please fuck me right now' faces.

"Oh, I see." Clara ducked her hands beneath her chin and leaned onto the table. Her flirty expression cleared. "Playin' for the other team, right?" She asked, and somehow she had an innocent, sincere smile on her face. Seriously, she picked now to act contrite? Marshall grimaced and shook his head roughly.

"No, definitely not. I just don't like―look, I'm not going after someone my best friend wants." Not that I'd want you anyway, you diseased cunt, he thought to himself. He figured saying that out loud would cause her to storm off, and then he'd have to deal with a horny Aaron all night, so he let it go.

"Oh, really?" She asked, instantly back to the nasty sex kitten, though from her words she sounded more like an all-knowing dating guru. Bitch. "Cause, and don't take this the wrong way, but I've seen the way you've been eying Kyle." The grin widened cheekily and her eyes slid toward the bar, where Aaron had demanded Kyle follow to be the beer bitch. The guy had already slopped half of one down his chest from shaking, and Marshall glared and returned his gaze to Clara, irate.

"No you haven't. I haven't looked at him." The response came too quickly, he was sure. But Marshall wasn't gay. He didn't want dick. He just hated the little fuck. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

"Yes you have. And getting all defensive? Adorable." She tittered like a chipmunk smiled at him with bright teeth and rosy lips.

"I don't think you understand. I fucking hate that little bastard. I don't like the look of him, I don't like seeing him, and I can't stand being here with him sitting at the table, whining and pouting like a bitch." He responded pointedly. All were valid statements, but there was a lot underneath all that he didn't want to drudge up. Not that he felt the blonde bimbo was intelligent enough to pick up on what he was trying to hide, but still.

"Damn, man, that's a bit harsh, don't you think?" Marshall froze. That was Aaron. He'd know that idiotic voice anywhere. Marshall slowly turned, and got an eyeful of Aaron's disapproving face as he slammed a pitcher onto the table. Kyle was behind him, eyes blurred with tears and he clumsily dropped the glasses on the table before wiping at his face.

"I'm-m gon-gonna go-go--" Without finishing the statement he ran off toward the bathroom, stumbling into at least three people on his way. Marshall's chest constricted with fury. Little manipulative bastard.

"That was so mean!" Clara's high-pitched voice had been annoying before, but now it was downright painful. "You made him cry! And all this time, he's been telling me―you're an asshole, you know that? And you should apologize." She glared. She was actually a lot easier to respect when she glared at him, annoying as her words were. At least she stood for something other than whoring herself out. Unfortunately, her stance was bad for Marshall.

"Yeah, Marsh. You really hurt the kid. I've never seen a grown man cry but... that was brutal." Aaron was shaking his head and taking a seat next to Clara, and it shocked Marshall to see him not try to cop a feel. He really must've been bothered by Marshall's actions. "You should go apologize. Poor guy. You know, he looks sad enough around the office with no one to talk to. I can't believe you just made him feel like shit the first time he's been invited to do something since he started working at the firm." All at once Marshall's breath rushed out. Was he being too harsh?

Or was Kyle just that good of an actor?

Either way, they weren't going to let the matter drop until he did something about it. He sighed in resignation and stood up.

"Fine, fine. I'll go say sorry. Now will you two please shut the hell up about it?" He just about pleaded. They didn't comment, just stared at him in blatant disapproval. He groaned in frustration, but turned in the direction of the bathroom.

Here goes...

As Marshall weaved through the crowd in the direction of the lanky, weepy loser, he considered what had happened. Did he really hurt the poor guy? Those tears looked pretty damn real. Fuck, he'd feel like a complete tool if he'd really just made a guy cry over something as stupid as a weird conversation in the elevator. But even so... he couldn't help but think back on that day, the way Kyle was so domineering, so powerful towering over him. Could that have been some sort of fluke?

Marshall no longer knew for sure.

He shouldered the door to the bathroom open and pressed forward, tentative.

"Um, Kyle?" He called out quietly. Something crashed, and he heard a stuttered, sh-shit, before he fully entered the bathroom and found himself staring at Kyle's hunched frame, face hidden even in the mirror reflecting back at Marshall, bent toward the floor and trying to pick up something. Marshall thought it was his glasses, but found as the guy stood up he was simply clutching the container for said glasses.

Fuck. He was still shaking.

"You... you okay?" Marshall asked, feeling like he should punch himself in the face for even being there. Kyle kept himself turned away, pressed against the counter of the bathroom. From his vantage point, Marshall could see Kyle's profile, and his face was really red. There was an angry line down the part of his face that Marshall could see, telling him the tears hadn't been fake.

"Look, what I said out there. I didn't mean any of it. I'm just in a bad mood is all, and I took my frustrations out on you." He tried to explain, stepping closer. When he stood only a few feet from the shaking figure, he paused. "I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't think." Without his permission, Marshall's hand reached out and squeezed Kyle's shoulder. Kyle flinched under the pressure and he jumped a bit from the contact. Instantly Marshall pulled his hand away. "Oh, sorry.

Again. I mean. Really, I didn't mean to--" His sentence was ended abruptly when Kyle whirled around and threw himself around Marshall's neck, ducking his head into Marshall's clavicle and shaking harder.

"I k-kn-know you d-didn't mea-ean it, Ma-Mars-shall." Kyle whimpered, and instinctively Marshall wrapped the man up in his arms. Even though he had his chin ducked into Marshall's neck, Kyle was actually really tall, probably six-feet at least. The lanky, bony figure had always given Marshall the impression that he was really small, but as those arms tightened around him, he could feel the corded muscle underneath the long-sleeved shirt. "Th-thank y-you for ap-apolo-ogizing." He whispered, and the hot breath on Marshall's neck made him want to run. And the close proximity Kyle was presenting was causing his thigh to rub against Marshall's crotch.

Oh, he was not getting excited. No. No, it had just been a while. He just needed a good lay, and he'd be all better. Just hormones acting up, he was sure of it.

Nevertheless, something was responding, and Marshall tried desperately to pull away.

"Okay, Kyle, um, can we go back now? I'd like it if you stayed. I won't insult you, I promise." He stammered, trying to tug out of the taller man's tight grasp. Nails dug into the nape of his neck for a brief second, and it was all he could do to hold back the gasp of breath when Kyle released him and dropped his head, turning toward the sink once more.

"S-sure, let m-me ju-just get cl-cleaned u-up." He was tugging down globs of paper towels and wiping his face beneath the glasses. He frantically tried to calm himself down, make that growing hardness against his leg disappear. As Marshall imagined how gross Clara was, how she probably had warts in awful places, and Megan, the seventy-two year old receptionist naked, he was able to calm himself down to a flaccid position. Marshall breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed the back of his neck, where he tried not to notice the sharp crescents ingrained in his skin.

Abruptly, Kyle whirled around, clutching the case of his glasses and his jacket tight to his chest. His bare arms peeked out where Kyle had rolled up the sleeves, and Marshall tried not to act surprised when he spotted dark Celtic sigils wrapped around the lean male's wrists. Two Celtic crosses glared vivid red at each wrist where pale blue veins stood out against the alabaster skin and entwined themselves with the wraparound red and black band. How had Marshall never noticed those? He brushed the random thought aside and looked back up at the taller man's dark eyes.

A flicker of something crossed Kyle's vision before disappearing again, so fast Marshall wasn't even sure he'd seen it. But the red-rimmed eyes were hard to miss. They almost glowed from recent tears, and Kyle's eyelids were red as well from the rubbing of the paper towels. Marshall resisted the urge to sigh, trying to find some reason not to pity the poor loser. He couldn't find any.

"Uh, come on. I'm sure they're waiting for us to get back. We still have to order." He grunted roughly. He wasn't good at casual conversation, and he didn't really care to stare at Kyle anymore. He'd just barely gotten his lower half to calm down.

Not that he thought Kyle was turning him on. Nope, not possible.

They headed out, Kyle just behind him and to the left, at least three steps back at all times. Of course the clumsy bastard tripped up the step leading from the hallway containing the bathroom to the main room, and of course he had to use Marshall as something to steady himself, gripping Marshall's shoulders tight and barely stopping himself from dragging them both down. Thankfully Marshall had great balance and was strong enough to hold them both up―though Kyle weighed a surprising amount for someone so thin.

"S-so--"

"Relax. Not a big deal." Marshall cut Kyle off, not wanting to hear the whimpering attitude any longer. He didn't like the weird pit in his stomach Kyle's weak voice caused. He didn't like the damn kid, always pissing him off and stumbling into him and apologizing and... and just breathing, dammit! Why couldn't he just disappear and leave Marshall to his supposed heterosexuality? Was it so difficult?

"Hey, Kyle." Clara's soft voice surprised Marshall. Her greeting lacked all the usual slutty slurs, and she made no attempt to welcome Marshall back. She stood -- and the slut-less spell was broken -- and rubbed her ass against Aaron's chest as she wriggled out of the booth to give Kyle a hug. He flinched and pulled back, and Marshall tried not to roll his eyes again. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm f-fine." He responded equally quietly, eyes cast down at the carpet as they usually were. She squeezed him again, despite the protests, and looked over at Marshall, who had sat in the booth across from Aaron as the exchange had gone down. She flicked her eyes between Aaron and Marshall before returning her attention to Kyle.

"Do you want to sit next to me? I can move that big ol' brute Aaron if you'd like." She asked, no trace of that lusty tone she'd used earlier.

"N-no, it's f-fine. I-I'll b-be ok-okay." He stuttered, pulling from her grasp and slumping into the seat next to Marshall. Marshall himself tried not to noticeably scoot away. Kyle had sat himself closer than before, and they were merely inches apart. After completely insulting the kid and literally making him cry, Marshall thought clinging to the wall in an attempt to get away would appear cruel. Still, sitting so close felt a little uncomfortable. Part of him was worried he'd react again, and part of him was worried he'd punch the weeping sop by the end of the night. Neither option felt particularly pleasing.

"Well, if you're sure." Clara stared at him momentarily before tucking herself back into Aaron's lap, this time making no effort to push past to her own spot. "I guess I'll make do with this one." She grinned and pointedly ground her ass into Aaron, who groaned. Marshall resisted the urge to gag yet again.

"So, did you guys order, or were you waitin' on little ole me?" Marshall joked in an attempt to break the horny adults apart. Didn't work as well as he'd liked. Maybe because he was never very skilled at jokes.

"Nope, just enjoyed each other's company." Aaron winked and circled his arms around Clara. Marshall threw a menu at Aaron, who deftly caught it and turned it over. "Thanks, man."

"I was aiming for your face." He commented under his breath. Kyle's breath hitched and he coughed, causing Marshall to look over at him. His eyes were watering again, but this time he almost thought it was from laughter. But that didn't seem right. Marshall ignored the twist in his gut and pulled out a menu for himself, perusing the laminated object in hopes to find something edible.

"Can...c-can I have o-one of th-those?" This was the first time Kyle had struck up conversation himself, and even though he was merely asking for a menu, Marshall couldn't help but look up in surprise. The red color in his eyes had disappeared, and even behind the glasses Marshall could see that Kyle's eyes were no longer wet. His face was back to normal, too, but what surprised Marshall the most was the eye contact.

Kyle was staring at him. A blank stare, too, not a creepy predator stare nor a whimpering, terrified stare. Mutely, Marshall grabbed a menu and held it out, never taking his eyes off of Kyle.

"Th-thanks." Kyle said, face still virtually a blank mask.

Fuck, what's with this guy?

"No problem." He grunted, no longer seeing the menu in front of his face.

This is going to be a long night.

* * *

Drinks last night had gone surprisingly okay, if Marshall discounted the drunk flirting between Clara and Aaron, who -- as he'd heard -- proceeded to have a lot of sex before stumbling home.

Kyle had been tolerable. He was constantly stuttering and whimpering in his seat, almost never speaking, which was nice. Marshall barely noticed him so long as his mouth wasn't open.

Sort of. Constantly, their knees would brush against each other, or Kyle's elbow would accidentally bump into him. And, constantly, the lanky male would stutter out an apology and Marshall would wave it off. Did the kid ever get tired of apologizing?

Unfortunately for Marshall, Aaron was approaching with a long, gruesome retelling of the night's adventures on his lips. Marshall groaned to himself and ducked further down into his cubicle.

"Marsh! My man, I see you made it out alive." He was smiling, stupid expression clear on his face. "Had a great night last night." He waggled his eyebrows and laughed, leaning against Marshall's short cubicle wall without thought.

"Yeah, can we do this later? I've got things to do."

"Oh really? Like what, crunch some more numbers? Dude, you have the rest of your life to punch out numbers. As a friend, the least I could do is give you something interesting to hear instead of letting you waste away from boredom." God, could Marshall just not catch a break? He groaned inwardly and stood up.

"Alright, if I'm going to hear this I'll need caffeine. You stay here, I'll be right back." He muttered, trying to ignore Aaron's excited grin. Of course the idiot was happy, he'd gotten laid. What man wasn't happy after getting it on?




Office Confrontations Ch. 01



Wearily, Marshall walked past the numerous cubicles toward the lounge area, where a constant stale coffee aroma permeated the air. Hell, at least stale coffee was something, which was better than the nothing he had now. Stepping into the empty lounge was normal. Anyone caught fraternizing in the break room when it wasn't their break time was docked pay, and most of them were barely scraping by as it was.

But damn them all to hell, no one started a new pot. Sure, there was a nice pot of decaf, but that wasn't going to help Marshall keep awake during Aaron's boring tale of the diseased pussy. He groaned to himself, but popped open the Folgers and started brewing a fresh pot. At least he'd get a fresh cup, which was tastier than half-burned sludge.

"You look like a happy little homemaker. Are you usually the coffee bitch or is this just a special occasion?" Marshall flinched as he was pouring the water, barely avoiding dropping the damned thing on himself. Setting down the empty pot, he flipped around, eyes narrowed.

"Fuck you--" Marshall's eyes widened as he caught a good look at who was mocking him.

Fucking Kyle. Was he always such a damn schizo?

With arms folded across his chest, legs shoulder-width apart, and chin raised in defiance, Kyle looked more like a cocky lawyer than he did a nerdy pencil pusher. What the hell?

"Nah, don't really feel up to it at the moment. But call me tonight, I'll see what I can do." That dangerous glint was in Kyle's eye again as he spat out a quip, closing the distance between them.

"Look, I don't really feel up to it, either. I have no idea what sort of crazy you seem to be diagnosed with, but I'm not dealing with it anymore." Marshall snapped, irately turning around and dealing with the coffee maker, which had yet to give him enough for a cup. He should've known better than to turn his back on a guy like Kyle.

Strong arms wrapped around Marshall, locking his hands into place against the counter top. Hot breath ghosted across his ear as Kyle leaned in close, pressing himself completely against Marshall and shoving Marshall into the counter painfully.

"What th--" Marshall tried to struggle, but Kyle's grip was painful and tight. "Get off!"

"Oh, I don't think so. See, I particularly enjoy you up against a wall. Or counter, whatever." Marshall could feel the rumbling laugh against his back and gritted his teeth.

"Get the fuck off of me, Kyle." Marshall growled.

"How about no?" This time Marshall could hear the laugh as well as he could feel it. "I don't think you understand the position you're in." Kyle's upper body pushed forward, hands dragging Marshall forward until his face was getting damn close to the coffee maker. His ass jutted out into Kyle, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Mmm, you're fun. I think I'll keep you around for a while." He whispered, catching Marshall's ear and biting.

"Aah―fuck, get off. What is wrong with you?" Now Marshall was starting to panic―for more reasons than just one. Kyle laughed darkly into Marshall's ear, and bit down harder. Marshall's breath was coming up in sharp gasps, and damn it all, his cock was twitching and waking up. This was just not how things were supposed to go!

"I like it when you get angry." Kyle whispered, releasing his ear. Marshall thought he was finally going to be free when he felt Kyle gyrating his hips, grinding his hard-on right into Marshall's ass.

Dear god. He was not getting turned on. That wasn't like him at all. He did not get aroused by men, he didn't imagine Kyle bending him over his desk and taking him fro--

Stop it. It's not true. Forget it! Fighting against it or not, Kyle had begun to lick at the base of his jawbone, just below his ear, and he couldn't suppress the soft moan that left his mouth, or the fact that he was pushing back into Kyle. What is happening to me? The panic was really starting to sink in now.

Because as much as he'd like to deny it, Marshall was hard. And he wanted Kyle right then and there.

Then, suddenly, Kyle's body pulled off and the weight disappeared. Gasping, Marshall stood bent over the counter for a few seconds, trying to gather his bearings. A hand palmed his ass and he jolted, ricocheting back into motion as he turned to face Kyle.

"Fu--"

"Save the curses, doll." Kyle's chest was heaving, and his eyes burned with hunger. His hair was slightly mussed, and tendrils of dark hair curled around his cheeks. His glasses were slightly askew from rubbing into Marshall's neck and his hands were twitching at his waist, but he gained control of himself with ease, straightening himself and shaking off the lust in his eyes. "Save them for next time." With a wink, Kyle disappeared, leaving Marshall to stand there, shaking, with a massive erection that wouldn't go down no matter how many old women he thought of naked.

What the hell just happened?



Office Confrontations Ch. 02



[I'm just finishing up chapter three, so expect a new chapter soon! As always, I love feedback of any kind! I know it's a short chapter, but the next one will be longer. Also, I'd like to thank triple22 for editing! Edit:: I'd just like to apologize to everyone, I had no idea until a few days ago that there was a problem with random bolded paragraphs. Hopefully this fixes things!]

*

It took Marshall a full ten minutes to coax his erection back down to a concealable state, and by the time he reached Aaron standing at his desk, his sour mood had skyrocketed―but so had his nervousness. In a few days he'd have to work one-on-one with Kyle, and he was terrified―of his own reaction, of how Kyle would act...

When Marshall's eyes discretely glanced over toward Kyle's cubicle, he saw the man with his shoulders slightly hunched, head down, his hands pecking away at the keys. Damn Kyle for going back to a bumbling, antisocial freak. Nothing about his posture said he'd just dry-humped Marshall in the coffee room. On the contrary, he looked like a twenty-five year old virgin. If Marshall hadn't seen the relentless confidence and felt the blatant arousal pressing against him, he wouldn't have believed Kyle had ever even gotten past first base. As it stood, Marshall had a feeling Kyle had never felt up a woman; men however were a completely different story.

Aaron's mouth cranked out obscenities and lewd imagery the second Marshall appeared, but he'd managed to drown every word out like a champ, though his success was due in part toward reminding himself that he didn't crave dick, that having Kyle rucked up against him didn't push every pleasure button in Marshall's body. For some reason he was having trouble swaying his lower half. In fact, it seemed he couldn't take his mind off of Kyle, no matter what he tried.

And damn it all, the quarterly project that was due to begin in a few days would be lasting for six long weeks.

Six weeks with Kyle. Marshall groaned out loud, dropping his head to his hand and digging his nails into his temple, as if the pain would overpower the frustration he was feeling. It didn't work.

"You okay man?" Aaron's voice pulled Marshall out of his inner torment.

"Fine." Marshall snapped, glaring. "Look, I've got a lot of shit to do. Can we talk some other time?" He asked, though his voice and face brooked no argument.

"Sure...just call if you need anything." Aaron backed off, raising his hands in surrender. "Maybe we can grab a beer later." Marshall grunted noncommittally, squeezing the computer mouse with a white-knuckled hand. Aaron stood awkwardly for another minute before walking away but Marshall didn't notice. His eyes bored hatefully into Kyle's back, tinged with apprehension. How the hell was he going to get through the next few weeks? 

* * *

No matter how hard Marshall tried, he couldn't stop Monday from arriving. Monday. The first day of the big joint project. Monday was a few mere hours away.

Marshall lay sprawled out on his ratty tan couch. He'd splurged on an 18-pack of Bud Light (okay, he didn't splurge per se, since he'd grabbed the cheapest liquor on sale and sped home to drown himself in alcohol) and guzzled a good six beers in an hour. He'd started to feel really light-headed, woozy thoughts unable to latch onto any one idea. Marshall cracked the tab of the seventh can, grimacing at the tepid beer. He should have put them in the fridge, but by the time he'd considered the action he wasn't certain he'd make it to the kitchen - or back for that matter - without falling over and ralphing all over the floor. He resigned himself to the room-temperature liquor, figuring he should just chug the can to avoid the repugnant taste. 

Bad idea. The sickening tang coated his mouth and Marshall felt like hurling. He fell back onto the arm of the couch, holding his head as if the contact of his hand would keep the room from spinning.

Fucking Kyle. It was entirely Kyle's fault! Why did he have to act like such a freak, running around molesting unsuspecting people like he was a damn sex fiend? Marshall didn't even want to think about how turned on he'd become. He wasn't gay; he didn't get off on men. There was no way in hell he was interested in Kyle.

So why did he keep picturing Kyle in the break room, arrogant smirk plastered to his face, and why could he feel himself reacting to the memory of Kyle's body shoved up against him, pressing his aching hard-on into Marshall's ass? Simply remembering that moment sent a shiver through him.

Marshall scowled, squeezing his eyes shut, and threw the half empty can from his fist, laying his arm across his face. He gratefully welcomed sleep as the blissful blackness took him into its willing arms.

He should have known not even sleep would grant him a reprieve.

* * *

Marshall sat at his desk, rapidly filling out the spreadsheet glaring at him on the monitor. It was a typical boring day, nothing out of the ordinary; with his scalding coffee sat untouched to the right, the worn mouse pad with a scenic view of the San Diego beach fading beneath the gray mouse placed just in front of the cup, and most notably the lack of personal items on the banal desk, everything was in its place.

Not a single photograph or knickknack sat on the dusty faux wood. His desk sat as uneventful and uninteresting as his personal life. Marshall never really noticed how threadbare his whole world truly was, but then he was blissfully unaware of the fact and maybe that was a good thing. It saved him from suffering through life with the understanding that he had nothing to live for, but it also prevented him from changing that awful rut he'd caught himself up in.

Marshall paused in his work, wondering why Aaron hadn't stopped by to barrage him with useless anecdotes about his sex life, not that Marshall wanted to hear all about the explicit tales of the promiscuous and the desperate. Still, it was unusual.

Looking around the office, Marshall noticed Aaron deep in conversation with Clara, and as he watched both of them stopped to stare past Marshall and toward the other side of the office. Marshall followed their gaze and his mouth gaped open in shock.

Kyle stalked toward him, expression predatory, as he strode across the fraying carpet. Marshall sat back in the seat, paralyzed as Kyle gripped the arms of his chair and towered over him, bending at the waist. It felt like Kyle was staring into his soul. Their noses stood inches apart, and Marshall marveled at the depth of Kyle's hazel eyes. Close up, he could see they were flecked with green and gold, rather than the endless black he'd always assumed they were. The glasses emphasized each glinting color, blooming and surrounding Marshall's entire vision. Marshall's lips parted as he opened his mouth to speak, but Kyle beat him to it.

"You know you want this. Stop denying yourself the truth and admit it." Marshall sat frozen. He wanted to shake his head, yearned to disagree, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Kyle's commanding gaze. Kyle's lips slowly stretched back into a smile.

Without warning, Kyle crushed their mouths together, demanding entrance with a skillful tongue. Marshall resisted for a split second, then relinquished all control, opening his lips a fraction and allowing Kyle to do with him as he wished. Kyle dug his hands into Marshall's messy hair; sharp nails scraping electric bolts of need down Marshall's body. Marshall gasped against Kyle's mouth and Kyle pressed the advantage, swirling his tongue through every inch of Marshall's mouth, pausing to stroke along Marshall's smooth, wet lips.

Marshall continued to yield, throwing his arms around Kyle's neck and whimpering against him. Kyle's hands raked down his sides and circled Marshall's hips with his thumbs before squeezing his prominent erection, causing Marshall to buck into Kyle's hand and tighten his grip.

Suddenly Kyle pulled back, grinning maniacally. Marshall's hands reached out toward Kyle reflexively, but Kyle caught him by the wrists and held them in a single hand. Marshall whined in the back of his throat, incapable of speech. Kyle waggled his index finger, patronizing.

"Ah, ah," he admonished. "I want to hear you say it." Marshall gulped in short, rapid breaths, trying to clear his suddenly dry throat.

"Wh-what?" He asked, voice gravelly and pleading. He would do anything to feel those hands again.

"Tell me how much you want me." Kyle's Cheshire grin was luminous, and there was a hint of amusement tingling his words. His lips looked puffy and red, soft to the touch by Marshall's memory, and glistening, yet somehow so firm and unyielding. So contradictory, just like Kyle. Marshall tugged uselessly at Kyle's tight grip.

"I--I--" Marshall swallowed painfully. Kyle nodded encouragingly and Marshall pulled his eyes away from that devilish gaze, uneasy. Around him, their co-workers stared openly; some shocked (like Aaron), some smiling in approval and making 'go for it' motions with their hands. Marshall's face burned and his mouth flapped open and closed like a beached fish. His eyes found Kyle's, who still stared patiently back at him.

"I...I wa--"

* * *

A loud, shrill beeping tore Marshall from unconsciousness. He groaned and rolled, falling flat on his face. Marshall yelped at the pain and sat up, gingerly rubbing his soon-to-be-bruised chin. He realized he must have fallen asleep drinking the night before, since he'd barely missed smacking his head against the coffee table a few inches from where he was sitting, and the coffee table certainly didn't belong in the bedroom.

The alarm droned on, slightly muted by the closed door. Marshall grumbled curses under his breath, though none of them were directed at the rude awakening or the early hour. No, his bad mood directed its force solely toward that awful dream, and the fact that his dick stood at attention, complaining angrily against the confining zipper of his jeans. Marshall shoved through the door into the bedroom and smacked the alarm with a brutal fist, silencing the incessant sound, and headed for the closet, picking out black slacks, a pale blue shirt and a dark suit jacket. A tie of thundercloud gray completed the outfit and Marshall made his way toward the bathroom for a quick shower.

His insistent dick refused to go down, much to Marshall's dismay, but he refused to take care of it. He would not get off at the thought of Kyle's hands stroking him, no matter how much his blue-balled friend ached.

Cold shower, grooming and dressing complete, Marshall unhappily locked up and drove the scant few miles to work. For the first time ever, Marshall drove under the speed limit and parked as far down in the underground parking lot as he possibly could, trudging each step up the stairs in trepidation.

He didn't want to see Kyle or that wicked gleam in his eye, and he sure as hell didn't want his frustrated dick to speak for him. Eventually there was no avoiding the confrontation. Marshall stood at the door to the sixth floor, hand clutching the door like a lifeline.

Marshall scolded himself under his breath. How dare he be afraid of a pathetic man like Kyle? If he was afraid, he was the pathetic one. Marshall opened the door and stomped determinedly to his cubicle. He threw the briefcase to the floor under his desk and started up the computer.

Let Kyle come to me. I'm not his bitch.

Even though Marshall had moved agonizingly slowly, he still managed to get to work a few minutes early. Kyle, he'd noticed, arrived strictly on time every day, never more or less than perfectly punctual.

Kyle further proved that point by tapping Marshall's shoulder at exactly eight on the dot.

Marshall whirled around, flinching back.

"S-sorry, I d-didn't mean to st-startle you." Kyle apologized meekly, ducking his head and clutching his arms tightly across his chest. Marshall didn't know if he should feel irritated or paranoid about Kyle's obvious personality disorder. How long would it be before Kyle snapped and went mad, groping every male in the vicinity?

Marshall bit off the snide remark fighting to escape his lips and shrugged, eyes avoiding Kyle's gaze.

"Whatever. Let's get to work." He scooted over to accommodate Kyle and stared pointedly at the screen, starting up the hard drive.

"Um..." Kyle cleared his throat uncomfortably. Marshall resisted the urge to scowl and looked in Kyle's direction.

"Come on, sit down already. We've got a shit ton of paperwork to deal with." Kyle bit his lip and looked away. What the hell was his issue?

"W-we're sup-supposed to work i-in suite six-thirteen. So we c-can talk to cl-clients and―and--" he squeezed his eyes shut and Marshall swore there was a blush starting to break out across Kyle's cheeks.

Shit, he thought. I'll be alone in a locked room with him? Inside Marshall panicked, though the only outward sign of his trepidation came from his eyes widening slightly as the realization overwhelmed him. But he couldn't let Kyle see his terror. He stiffened his shoulders and looked up, steeling himself.

"Fine." He stood, stalking off toward their new workspace without another word. Having Kyle walk directly behind him made Marshall nervous. He feared Kyle's unpredictability and the vulnerable state he was in when he lost sight of the bi-polar man for the short walk down the hallway. When they entered the suite, Marshall gulped visibly at the click of the closed door and practically ran to the opposite end of the table, slipping into the furthermost seat and setting his shaky, sweat-soaked hands on the polished oak. Kyle deliberated next to the door before taking a seat three chairs away and pulling a stack of paperwork toward him, completely ignoring Marshall.

Marshall himself was surprised at Kyle's reaction. He was just so damn impossible to predict. And where did all that paperwork even come from?

"Shouldn't we both review the files?" Marshall surprised himself by asking. Kyle looked up, startled, and flushed.

"O-oops." Kyle winced. He got nervously to his feet and moved one seat over, passing a number of papers over without making eye contact. Actually, Kyle's eyes never left the table. Marshall raised an eyebrow but took the papers silently. What the hell?

* * *

By the fourth day of the project, Marshall was used to Kyle's awkward conversation and no longer waited with bated breath for Kyle's split personality to rear its ugly head. He'd even willingly brought coffee and bagels for Kyle and himself to share, waving off Kyle's buoyant thank-yous.

The day progressed slowly, and by the time five o'clock came around, Marshall was relieved and ready to go home. He waved distractedly at Kyle, muttering goodbyes, and left to clock out. He slipped into the elevator a few moments later, leaning against the back wall and running a hand through his dull brown locks. He sighed and closed his eyes, thankful for the three-day weekend.

With his eyes closed, Marshall didn't hear Kyle enter the elevator just before the doors clicked shut.

"I swear you're deliberately trying to test me." Marshall's eyes flickered slowly open, but he recognized the voice instantly. He didn't need to see to know it was Kyle's looming form standing over him―how had he not realized the man was actually taller than him before now?

"What are you talking about?" Marshall asked, his voice filled with irritation. He'd gotten so used to Kyle's kicked-puppy act he forgot to be on his guard for psychotic, violating Kyle.

"Oh, you are to test me." Kyle's face stretched into a grin and his hand reached back to hit the red "stop" button. A high-pitched buzzing noise sounded and Marshall balked.

"What the hell are you doing?" Marshall growled, starting to push off from the elevator wall. He never made it more than an inch forward before Kyle shoved him into the unrelenting metal. His hands found Marshall's and pinned them to the wall behind him, grip unbreakable. Marshall shouted in surprise and pushed back, only succeeding in causing friction between them.

Marshall's face heated up and his palms started to sweat. No. Not again.

"Kyle, damn you. Let me go!" He snarled. Kyle just laughed, the sound joining with the alarm and giving it an eerie quality. Marshall shuddered, and not just from fear, though the fear growing in him was almost palpable as he fought.

"Now, now Marshall. If you struggle, you'll just make things worse for yourself." Kyle's eyes flashed in amusement and he pushed against Marshall harder, rubbing their crotches together through the thin material of their slacks. Marshall grunted, tipping his head back and biting his lip. He hated how his body reacted so quickly to Kyle, as if his cock had waited all week for just a brief moment's contact. The dreams certainly hadn't helped.

"Mmm, I do love feeling you against me." Kyle sighed and rolled his hips to a slow, agonizing rhythm. Marshall couldn't speak. His voice clogged up and the only sounds trying to get out were choked moans. He hadn't realized Kyle released his hands until he felt Kyle's hips pull away from his own. He arched back against Kyle, causing Kyle to chuckle and push him back against the wall.

"Someone's eager." Kyle teased. "Shall I give you what you want?" He asked, tracing his fingers across the waistband of Marshall's slacks. Marshall didn't try to stop the moan that ripped from his throat, and his hips bucked. Though he couldn't speak, his eyes pleaded with Kyle's beautiful and merciless gaze. Those evil fingers traced the waistband and trickled up Marshall's stomach, scraping his nails up Marshall's abs, fingers splayed across his waist. Marshall's abdomen tensed at the contact and he bit his lip hard, pushing his hips forward again. Kyle laughed and his hands traveled up Marshall's body to his neck, cupping his cheeks and tipping his head up.

"Alright, calm down." Kyle admonished, flicking his tongue out to trace Marshall's lips and holding him back to keep him from pressing forward. Marshall's entire body lit up like it was on fire from the need tearing through him. His cock pressed painfully against his slacks and he could feel his nipples tightening beneath his shirt. His mouth hung open, silently begging for Kyle to clear the space between them. Kyle's hands released him and slowly drifted down his chest, pausing to tweak his already hardened nipples, eliciting a moan from Marshall's throat. Kyle's fingers found their way to the zipper of his slacks and pulled it down, slipping a warm hand beneath the fabric and trailing his index finger up Marshall's shaft.

"Oh, fuck!" Marshall threw his head back and his eyes squeezed tight. His cock pulsed against Kyle's finger, and precum oozed out of the tip, slicking Kyle's roving digit. Kyle wrapped the rest of his hand around Marshall's steel cock and squeezed gently, rocking up and down with a gentle rhythm. Marshall's moans spouted unending from his mouth and Kyle crushed their lips together, biting on Marshall's lower lip as he did so.

Marshall's mind reeled from the sensations. It had been too long without another person's touch, and he couldn't think past the inferno of desire building within him. In less than a minute he felt his balls tightening up, and he pulled from Kyle's mouth to emit a grunt. His hands scrambled for purchase on the sleek metal wall behind him as he thrust into Kyle's fingers. Then, the sensations were gone, and he was panting roughly, dropping to his knees and digging his hands into the floor as Kyle released him completely. His pain built and his cock ached, excruciating and leaking precum like a faucet.

A hand rested against his shoulder and Kyle knelt beside him, pressing their cheeks together as he whispered into Marshall's ear, "Want to go somewhere a little more private?" Marshall didn't have the energy to speak - something Kyle seemed to do to him more often than not - and simply nodded, collapsing against Kyle's shoulder. Kyle's torso rumbled underneath him and Marshall realized he was laughing yet again. The man seemed absolutely tickled pink by every reaction Marshall made.




Office Confrontations Ch. 02



"Come on, big boy." Kyle wrapped an arm under Marshall's underarm and lifted him, pressing the stop button as he did so. The elevator creaked into motion and the dreaded sound of the alarm finally ceased, something Marshall hadn't noticed until the silent elevator echoed around him. They reached the first floor of the garage and Kyle led him toward the far side of the dank cement room, digging his hand into the pocket of his suit to pull out car keys. His other hand firmly wrapped around his waist and tucked into the top of Marshall's pants, tracing circles above his groin in lazy movements. The sensation wasn't nearly enough to drive Marshall over the edge, but that didn't stop him from pressing closer into Kyle's arms as he walked.

They reached a dusky green jeep and Kyle unlocked the passenger door, tucking Marshall into the seat and buckling him up. Marshall was completely dazed, and soon Kyle was in the front seat, pulling out of the parking lot. As Marshall started to come to, he felt Kyle's hand moving again, pulling him from the tight confines of his slacks and into the open air. He gasped at the sensation, and Kyle's thumb rubbing over his slit. His eyes fluttered and he reached down to finish what Kyle started. His hands were smacked away instantly, and the sensations on his dickhead stopped.

"Don't touch yourself unless I say so." The commanding tone in Kyle's voice caught Marshall off guard, and he dropped his hands to his side. "Good boy." The tone wasn't patronizing, but it wasn't exactly warm either. It was a cross between sultry and pleased. If Marshall had been in his right mind he would have questioned the tone. However, with Kyle's hand wrapping around his shaft and lightly stroking him, the curious words and tone were completely ignored.

The trip could have been twenty hours or twenty minutes long, Marshall had no idea. His focus was held solely by Kyle's ministrations. He didn't even notice when they pulled up to a cozy little house with light red window frames and a wraparound porch. The metal gate hung open invitingly, and Marshall imagined the house to be more welcoming than simple wood and plaster would normally exude. Kyle's hand disappeared and he hopped out. Marshall looked around slowly, trying to figure out where he was. 

"You coming?" Kyle smiled confidently, eyes gleaming, as he opened the door and pulled Marshall out. With a firm hand around his waist and a quick tuck of Marshall's weeping member back into his pants, they were off, traipsing up the porch stairs and pausing at the front door.

"Don't mind the mess." Kyle muttered nonchalantly. The door opened to a dim, immaculate front room. A plasma TV had been hung on the wall opposite them, and an open kitchen lay adjacent to the room, practically sparkling even in the dark lighting. Marshall was led through the living room and to the right, where a short hallway ended in three doors. Two of them were closed, and the remaining door opened into a very well constructed bathroom. Kyle pulled them to the left, across from the restroom, and opened the door.

Even distracted by the molten meat in between his legs, Marshall gaped. The room was enormous, and shoved up against the wall was a four-poster of wrought iron, centered around a queen sized mattress. with a forest green canopy above, the material whisper thin and flaring in the breeze of the air conditioner. A matched set of dark cherry oak nightstands and a dresser were decked out in a number of trinkets. But Marshall's eyes drifted back to the enormous bed. He gulped and started backing away, pulling from Kyle's grasp.

Kyle turned and smiled at him, though in the darkness it was hard to tell if Kyle was smiling warmly or wickedly, and the confusing expression did no more than terrify Marshall to a higher degree. Kyle's hand reached out and found Marshall's wrist. The grip wasn't tight, though it didn't yield when Marshall pulled against the restraint.

"Relax. I won't do anything you aren't panting for." The statement didn't reassure Marshall in the slightest. Kyle stepped closer, wrapping his other hand around Marshall's neck. It took a second for Marshall to realize the slightly warm, wet feeling on the back of his neck was caused by his own juices. He shuddered and Kyle kissed his neck, slowly tracing his jaw from the base of his ear to his chin before finding Marshall's parted lips.

Of their own accord, Marshall's lips spread wider to accept Kyle's stabbing tongue, and they writhed together, wresting control from one another with every gasp of breath. Kyle's hands found Marshall's pants and this time he pushed them down Marshall's slim hips, pulling him forward so he stepped out of them, along with his shoes (though he had to bend down to help with those). He tossed the jacket to the floor and seductively unbuttoned the pale blue button up, leaving a kiss on every inch of exposed flesh between buttons. When the shirt finally fell and Marshall stood only in his boxers, Kyle hooked his thumbs into the legs of the cotton material and pulled them down, laving his tongue across the carefully trimmed pubic hair above Marshall's hard seven-inch erection.

Kyle lightly squeezed each ball, massaging them as he kissed Marshall's hipbones. Kyle guided him back onto the bed, laying a hand on each of his thighs until Marshall obeyed and sat down. He then lifted Marshall's legs onto the bed, where they spread out of their own accord, and Kyle knelt between them, running his thumbs up Kyle's inner thighs slowly. He licked Marshall's abdomen, where faint muscles peeked through taut skin.

Marshall's need grew and he reached down again, grabbing his cock and tugging.

"What did I say about touching yourself?" Kyle asked, though he sounded more amused than angry, if Marshall cared to listen. He firmly plucked Marshall's hands from his leaking member and lifted them above his head.

Kyle straddled Marshall's hips, carefully avoiding friction, and leaned until he could kiss Marshall's inviting lips.

"I guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands." He decided, mouthing the words against Marshall's lips. Something cold clamped down on Marshall's left wrist, and his eyes widened, as he was pulled straight and the cold clamped onto his right wrist. He resisted, realizing with horror that he couldn't tear his hands away no matter how much he struggled. He looked up, and there they were, glinting in the dim bedroom lighting. Metal cuffs, and not the cheap adult store cuffs either. They looked industrial, like the ones cops used. He blanched, and his cock wilted slightly.

"Wha--" Marshall moaned and bucked, fighting the cuffs more from ecstasy than fear. Kyle's hands squeezed Marshall's dick in a twisting motion as he kissed Marshall's chest, biting at one of the hardened nubs. Marshall cried out again, whipping his head back and forth, and Kyle took this as acquiescence, because he licked and nibbled with fervor, using both hands. Marshall's cock dripped more precum onto Kyle's hands as they flicked over the head, thumb probing the underside of his prick, just beneath the spongy head.

Marshall panted, gasping in short breaths. A whine gurgled out of him at every exhale, and he thrust faster into Kyle's skilled hands. His mouth opened in a silent cry as he thrust hard, back arched and every muscle tensed mid-motion. His eyes rolled back and he dropped his head, arms thrashing as he exploded, coating his stomach and chest with thick spurts of cum. He bucked three more times into Kyle's hand, relishing the way Kyle milked him for every drop before letting him go.

Marshall breathed heavily, cuffed hands clinking against the wrought iron headboard as his orgasm faded and he stopped struggling. A light sheen of sweat coated his body, mixing with the viscous cum and glistening in the dim lighting. Kyle, still sitting between Marshall's spread thighs, chuckled and patted Marshall's leg.

"See? I knew you'd enjoy it." Kyle sat back on his haunches and looked down. "Just wait, soon you'll beg me on your knees for more." Kyle laughed lightly and stretched. Marshall scoffed. Now that his needs had been sated, he pushed away how much he'd actually enjoyed their time together. His irrational logic started piecing together a bullshit lie, trying to cover up the desire building beneath his sternum, desire for Kyle's lips to wrap around his dick and bring him to full attention once again. He tried in vain to ignore his cock already trying to stiffen, though it had a long way to go.

Stockholm's syndrome, or something. That has to be it. I didn't want him to touch me, I just...Marshall clenched his jaw. He refused to believe he wanted any of it, regardless of how his body responded. He was straight. Not. Gay.

Looking up at Kyle, with his toned arms, vibrant tattoos glinting where his sleeves had been tucked up, and that hunger in his eyes, Marshall wasn't sure how he'd continue convincing himself. Just from looking at Kyle he could feel more stirrings in his loins, as if he hadn't just shot his load all over his chest.

"I did not enjoy that. You forced yourself on me!" He contradicted, even if he couldn't fully believe the lie. Kyle rolled his eyes and pointed down.

"Oh really? So why am I still fully clothed?" He retorted. Marshall gulped when he looked down. Sure, Kyle wore his black slacks, but he could clearly see the erection fighting against the dark fabric. "That was all you." He grinned and rubbed his hands all over Marshall's sticky chest, tweaking a nipple. Marshall grunted and forced himself to bite down on any more pleasure-related sounds.

"Why?" Marshall demanded, fighting himself. Kyle stopped, eyes searching Marshall's dark blue irises. His eyebrows shot up and his mouth lost all its arrogance.

"Why what? Why did I get you off?" He asked, pulling on Marshall's nipple again. Marshall flinched and pulled, unable to get out of Kyle's grasp. "You seemed to enjoy it." Kyle grinned.

"Why me? Why now?" His mouth opened, and questions kept flowing. He couldn't stop them if someone duct-taped his lips together and crushed his esophagus. "Why the hell did you have to fuck up my perfectly fulfilling life? I was fine before you! I didn't want any of this, I didn't ask for you to turn everything upside down, and I sure as hell didn't tell you to make me―make me--" He huffed, unable to finish the statement. He couldn't stand the idea of admitting to himself he was gay, much less someone like Kyle.

Kyle himself stared down at Marshall, face screwed up in thought. It was rare to see anything but a nervous twitch or an arrogant sneer on Kyle's face, so Marshall enjoyed the look of bewilderment. Unfortunately it disappeared quickly as Kyle scooted out from between his legs. Kyle shrugged, rolling onto his side, and pressed his cheek against his arm as he surveyed Marshall in his vulnerable position, eyes raking up and down his naked form. His glasses had dipped down his face, but Kyle had yet to fix them. Marshall couldn't stop himself from staring at the way they magnified his eyes, made their gaze look sharper and more deadly than they should have been.

"There was just something about you that called to me." Kyle traced lines down Marshall's chest, causing Marshall to shiver. Kyle grinned. "That. That's what I saw in you. You act like this couldn't-be-bothered-with-anyone asshole with a disregard for everyone around you, but underneath it all you're a cumslut begging for someone to bend you over and take you hard." Marshall frowned and opened his mouth to protest. Instantly, a moan emanated from his lips, and he bucked. Kyle squeezed his rapidly rising erection again and that be-damned smug look stretched sanctimoniously across Kyle's face.

"It's true and you know it." Marshall glared. Kyle leaned back against the bed, completely ignoring Marshall with the exception of one particular appendage as he stared up at the canopy. "It's funny, when I first saw you I wasn't interested. You came off all wrong, and straight to boot. But when you were on your knees at my feet, I just knew." He stroked Marshall agonizingly slow. "I knew you were mine."

"But I'm not--" Marshall's words were cut off in a gasp. Kyle's hand tightened painfully, and wasn't relenting any time soon.

"Yes, you are." Kyle responded tightly, barely moving his lips. "You are mine." With that, he flipped and straddled Marshall's hips. He drove their lips together with crushing force, demanding Marshall respond with a brutal bite to his lower lip. Marshall gasped from a cross between pleasure and pain, opening his mouth as Kyle pushed further. The kiss was violent and commanding; as if Kyle believed he could claim him with his lips.

And damn it all if it wasn't working.

Marshall fought against the restraints again, but this time he wasn't sure if it was to push Kyle off or to pull Kyle even closer. It didn't matter; he couldn't break through steel, or iron. Or whatever the hell the metal was. Kyle kissed him harder, tipping his head back. When he finally pulled away, he was heaving. Kyle's chest rose and fell quickly, and his lips were deliciously red and swollen, glistening in the dim light.

Wait...deliciously―what am I thinking? I don't―I can't―I'm not gay!

Marshall's eyes hardened and he tugged at the restraints. "Kyle uncuff me now. I'm tired of these games." He looked away from Kyle's face and glared at the white walls of the room, at the untidy bookshelf (the only thing in the entire apartment that wasn't immaculate, from what Marshall had seen) and the white candles only half-burned lining the windowsill. Kyle's hand released his throbbing member.

"Mark my words, Marshall. You'll be back and begging for more real soon." The tone in Kyle's voice was cold, a sound Marshall never remembered hearing before. He looked back for a split second, but Kyle's face was a blank mask. He grabbed the keys and made quick work of the cuffs. When Marshall was free, he rubbed his wrists and sat up, pulling the blankets over his prominent erection. Kyle stood and threw clothes at him, turning and walking out of the bedroom.

"Don't expect me to be at your beck and call. I don't need you, or your denial." Kyle refused to look at him, only pausing before the door fully shut behind him. "Figure out what you want before you open your mouth. Maybe you won't lie as much."

The door clicked and Marshall sat alone in the room at last. After a few moments of confusion at Kyle's sudden change -- though why he was surprised by the outburst was beyond him, since acting unpredictably was basically Kyle's MO -- Marshall slowly got dressed, grimacing at the gruesome effect orgasms had on his torso. There was no way to help it, though, so he shrugged on the button down and decided to shower when he got home.

The door opened easily, and the hallway was dark just like before. Marshall deliberated on calling out Kyle's name but decided against it. He didn't need that freak around; all he wanted to do was get out. He tried to remember which way to turn to get to the front door; thankfully he managed to find it on the first try. When he unlatched the deadbolt and grabbed the doorknob, he looked behind him. The empty, dark house looked a lot more foreboding than it had earlier, and Kyle was nowhere in sight. Marshall quickly tugged the door open and stepped over the threshold, releasing the tight breath in his chest, one he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Home. That's the important part. Forget Kyle. He doesn't matter. Just leave, and don't look back.

Unfortunately, as he walked down the steps of the porch and dug out his wallet and cell phone, he turned to stare at the inviting home behind him. He swore the house looked forlorn. He had no clue why he stood there staring, but he couldn't pull his eyes away.

What am I going to do now? 



Office Confrontations Ch. 03



Marshall sat in the suite assigned to their project on that early Monday morning, large coffee in hand. His three day weekend should have been filled with relaxation and carefree couch lounging. Instead, Marshall spent the entire weekend on edge, running through all the awful scenarios Monday could turn into; from Kyle telling the entire office what they'd done together in spite to Kyle weeping and begging him to come back, and everything in between. Thankfully, Marshall hadn't heard any whispering of his impending gay reputation or been confronted by the homophobic workers of the company. So far, Kyle hadn't breathed a word. That didn't stop Marshall from panicking, however.

Funny, a week ago Marshall had panicked in much the same way, except his dream became a living nightmare, with gay sex and cum galore. And all of it was one-sided.

He let Kyle get him off. Hell, Marshall begged Kyle to get him off. What was wrong with him?

That's it, I'm having myself committed, Marshall decided as he began sifting through that day's workload. Obviously I've lost my mind.

He sat in his usual spot and in the center of the table a box of bagels awaited hungry employees. Marshall didn't know why he even tried to do anything nice for that freak. He should have been preparing to scream at Kyle for violating him and handcuffing him to a bed, not purchasing pastries. He was certainly terrified of being violated again.

Bastard. He's such a―

The door clicked open and Marshall froze, paling as the breath rushed out of him. His eyes sought the door as Kyle's slumped frame slipped past the slim opening. Marshall opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. It was as if the argument died on his lips. Kyle himself didn't speak or make eye contact, but then again the shy Kyle never did. Sometimes he might cough and sputter out a 'g-gu-guh-good morn-morning' but more often than not he ducked his head and shuffled into his seat, handing over Marshall's half of the work.

Kyle did go straight to a seat, except he sat on the complete opposite side of the table, barely a foot from the door. Without acknowledging Marshall once, he pored over a handful of revenue files.

Marshall didn't know what to say. Kyle was odd, but not this odd. Dammit! Why couldn't Kyle just act like a normal fucking person? Marshall grew more and more irritated, a knee-jerk reaction to confusion.

"Kyle!" Marshall snapped, though he winced at the volume of his voice and the harsh tone he hadn't expected to use. Kyle flinched but didn't look up. His pen slowed to a stop across the page and he sighed.

"Ye-yes?" Kyle inquired quietly, nearly inaudible.

"You hungry? I grabbed bagels." Marshall resisted the urge to bash his skull into the table. Really? That's what he asked? Of all the things he could inquire about, he chose breakfast as the topic of conversation? Kyle looked up, but his eyes were blank and his face held no emotion.

"N-no th-thanks. I'm no-not hungry." With that he returned his attention to he paperwork before him.

"Oh, okay." Marshall replied lamely. Though he pulled out his own paperwork and began to work, he kept looking up to stare at Kyle. He ended up wasting an hour and a half on a single file, and by the time lunch came around he still had over half of his paperwork to finish. Kyle, on the other hand, finished just about all of his paperwork, leaving only a slim stack on the table as he dashed out the door as fast as his feet could take him. Kyle hadn't spoken more than a curt word or two the entire three hours together, no matter how many times Marshall tried to get him to open up.

The rest of the day passed much the same, with little communication and virtually no work done on Marshall's part. Kyle finished his stack and dutifully began working on Marshall's as well, but he still didn't breathe a word, and he kept his distance, ducking his head as he snatched a handful of papers with shaking hands.

Marshall was stumped. He didn't like Kyle's pathetic whiny attitude or the sniveling every time someone walked by or had anything to say to him, nor did he particularly care for the controlling molester attitude, but empty, emotionless Kyle was the worst yet.

And it was all Marshall's fault. He hated admitting that. Hated it. Usually Marshall had no qualms with blaming other people, but Kyle's change couldn't be sloughed off no matter how much Marshall wanted to. However, there were some things not even guilt could change. Marshall would not apologize.

Whatever Kyle's problem was, it didn't concern Marshall -- no matter how pissed off Marshall got over the empty shell Kyle became -- and he held onto that belief for two full weeks, ignoring Kyle as much as he was being ignored. Even so, Marshall continued to buy pastries and coffee, and always tossed Kyle's untouched portion at the end of the day.

That was, until Marshall spotted Clara cornering Kyle in the lunch room and Kyle's nervous, but firm, brush off.

"Ky-ky, are you okay? You've been so quiet lately, more than usual." She asked, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. Kyle attempted to leave, pulling from her grip, and she stepped in front of him, effectively cutting him off.

"I know something's wrong. You're not yourself." Clara pleaded.

"Fo-forget it." Kyle muttered. Marshall had to strain to hear him speak. "I'll s-see you la-later." Clara refused to be ignored, and stepped closer, dropping her voice to a whisper.

"Is this about M―" Suddenly, Kyle shoved Clara backwards and glared hatefully.

"Leave me alone. You don't know anything about me, so get your disgusting, diseased ass away from me." he snapped, storming off and leaving a red-eyed Clara behind. Marshall rushed to her side.

"Clara, ignore him, he's..." Marshall sighed. He didn't know what was wrong with Kyle but something was up. Not that he could explain the situation to Clara, who sniffled and wiped her eyes with quivering hands.

"No, he's right." Her cheeks darkened from leaking mascara, contrasting vividly from the red blush of shame creeping across her skin. "I'm a disgusting whore." She took off, sobbing and pushing people out of the way as she bolted to the girl's bathroom.

That's it. Marshall clenched his jaw and stalked out of the lunch room to hunt Kyle down. He's gone too far this time. Marshall caught Kyle stepping into the suite, shoving him through the door and slamming it behind them.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Marshall demanded. "Where do you get off making an innocent woman cry?" Kyle straightened and shoved back, glaring fiercely.

"Innocent?" Kyle scoffed. "She's fucked half the staff and you're calling her innocent? I hadn't realized you were so naïve."

"Fuck you. She was genuinely worried about you and you treated her like shit." Marshall ignored the truth about Clara's indiscretions -- and his own prejudices about her sexual activity. Having sex didn't make Clara a bad person, no matter how many people she brought to her dirty sheets.

"Oh, what's that pot? Calling the kettle black? You fucking hypocrite, you're the biggest user in the tri-state area and you're defending the skank? Why don't you use your brain for once, empty as it is, before opening your mouth." Kyle sneered. "You of all people have no right to judge me for that comment."

"Bullshit." Marshall snarled. "You hurt her because you're pissed at me, and that's fucked up." Marshall folded his arms across his chest, nails digging crescents into his forearms. Kyle rolled his eyes and curled his lip.

"Stop the presses, Marshall Marx just took responsibility for his own actions." Kyle clapped slowly, disdain dripping from his voice. "And still you pretend you don't know what you did wrong."

"I don't!" Marshall shouted back, indignant.

"Liar!" Kyle yelled just as loudly(good thing the walls were insulated). "You're always in denial. Just fucking admit the truth. For once in your life own up to it." Kyle gripped Marshall's shoulders roughly, physically shaking him. Marshall glared, refusing to speak.

"Fine. You want a reason?" Kyle ground out between clenched teeth, pulling Marshall until they were almost nose-to-nose.

"I'm sick of you pretending this is one-sided. I see the looks you give me when you think I'm not looking."

"I don't―" Kyle's forceful grip intensified and Marshall cried out in surprise.

"Shut up, I'm not done." Kyle growled. "You want me. Don't fucking deny it, you do. You practically begged me to fuck you, the way you moaned and spread your legs for me. Even now." Kyle released his shoulders and dug his hands into Marshall's dick, barely a scrap of fabric between, and squeezed painfully tight. Marshall was horrified. Partially because he was being groped again at work, but mostly because he realized he was as hard as steel, stiffening even more at Kyle's touch. He gaped, eyes boggling from his skull as he nearly collapsed at the feeling, knees weakening beneath him.

"There, see? But the second I let you go, you'll try to explain away the reaction. As if it's not blatantly obvious that you're a flaming faggot." Marshall's face flushed of its own accord. Kyle's chest heaved with each breath, and their torsos pressed against each other at the end of each inhale.

Kyle's eyes were filled with emotion, like the entire two weeks he'd been dead inside had stored up all his emotion for that exact moment. His eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched tight, but Marshall knew Kyle hid something beneath the fury, he could almost see it. Their eyes locked and a pregnant silence stretched between them.

Marshall dropped his gaze to Kyle's lips, subconsciously licking his own as he remembered their mouths embracing in the darkened bedroom. Marshall couldn't remember when his anger melted away and...something else took up its place. He tried to fight the unidentifiable emotion physically by pulling back from Kyle's touch, only succeeding in backing himself against the door. Kyle smiled, but there was no humor in it, only heavy disappointment.

"Cue the evasive maneuvers." Kyle sighed quietly. He let go of Marshall's groin and cupped Marshall's cheeks with both hands, cradling his face as he leaned closer.

"I meant what I said. I'm not waiting around for you to get a clue. I can't and I won't." Marshall had stopped fighting the moment Kyle began to speak, holding his breath tight in his lungs. Kyle exhaled slowly, warm breath ghosting across Marshall's neck. He shuddered beneath Kyle's touch, and he could do nothing to prevent it.

"I'm tired of these games." Kyle whispered, closing his eyes. Marshall sucked in a breath. He'd said the exact tame thing the first and only night they'd been together. The verbal slap boiled in Marshall's chest, caustic as it ate away inside, festering like disease. Everything was flying out of proportion.

Slowly, and noticeably so, as if giving time for Marshall to resist or turn away, Kyle brought their lips together, devouring Marshall's resistance. The kiss started off slow and tenuous, but quickly picked up speed as the need built in them both. Soon they were breathless and Marshall had his hands wrapped tight around Kyle's neck, refusing to let go.

Eventually Kyle's hands reached up to grip Marshall's, firmly pulling away from his unrelenting hold. He held Marshall's hands, lacing their fingers together at his shoulders.

"Marshall..." He sighed and released Marshall completely, stepping back. He turned, eyes searching Marshall's once before dropping to the floor.

Before Marshall could even realize what had happened, Kyle was gone, right out the door. His stuff still splayed out untouched on the table, but Marshall doubted he'd come back for it.

Fuck. Fuck!

* * *

Marshall had no idea how long he stood there staring at the table of paperwork, but eventually his body moved of its own accord, and he began mechanically straightening the files, organizing them and tucking them into Kyle's long-forgotten briefcase, hefting both Kyle's and his own briefcase in each hand. There was no way he could get back to work, not after that exchange, so he slipped out of the suite toward the elevator on autopilot.

He felt numb everywhere. His thoughts swam carelessly through his conscious but nothing stuck.

Nothing but the look on Kyle's face as he walked away. He couldn't erase that last moment no matter what he did.

Sighing, Marshall pulled out his phone and dialed the head honcho's secretary, shoving one of the briefcases under his arm to free a hand.

"This is Mr. Bradley's office, Michelle speaking."

"Marshall Marx, sixth floor. Patch me through? It's an emergency."

"Oh, my. Hold for just one moment, Mr. Marx." After a brief stint with a silent phone line and the repetitive click of the elevator shaft, the brusque voice of Mr. Bradley crackled through the speakers.

"What is it Marx?" He intoned, and the irritation was plain in his voice.

"Sir, my apologies for interrupting your day. Unfortunately Mr. Yates came down with a nasty case of food poisoning. He managed to alleviate himself in the restroom but I'm driving him home, since he has no one to call himself." Marshall lied through his teeth. "I'll have today's workload from the both of us on your desk tomorrow morning, I promise sir." Mr. Bradley took a deep, dramatic inhale before speaking.

"Well, alright. But I want both of you back in the office tomorrow, you hear? If Mr. Yates doesn't show up he better be damn sure to send a doctor's note with you."

"Of course, sir. Thank you." Marshall ended the call just before the elevator signaled the parking garage. It was barely noon but he needed a drink, and fast.

Marshall already polished off the last of the 18-pack from two weeks prior and hadn't gotten around to buying another. No matter, he wanted an intoxication strong enough to knock him senseless, nothing meager beer could provide.

Thank goodness bars littered the downtown area near his apartment. The drive over felt agonizingly long, and he continually tapped the steering wheel impatiently at every red light and under-the-speed-limit driver. Then again, he didn't care once he plopped down onto a bar stool and ordered up a few shots of whiskey. Solitude, liquor, and a fairly quiet pub to drown his liver in was all Marshall needed. After his fourth shot, Marshall was really feeling woozy.

He ordered another.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who likes to get a little tipsy in the middle of the afternoon."

Marshall was so startled by the abrupt voice he nearly slopped half the shot down his front. He was lucky he hadn't actually picked up the glass before she spoke.

And she certainly was a she. Enormous blue eyes, faintly tanned skin, and hair the color of burnished copper, billowing to her shoulders, there was no mistaking her for anything but a woman in her late twenties. Marshall's eyes drifted down her full, slight hourglass figure(she barely pushed past the thin-as-a-rail look) and back up to her face.

She stared at him, smiling less than innocently, eyes glinting and lip curled up slightly at the corner.

"You going to offer your name? Or are you even capable of speech?" She teased, pressing a finger to his shoulder and pushing lightly. Marshall's jaw dropped but he quickly regained composure, thrusting out his hand.

"My name's Marshall. Sorry, it's been a long day." She laughed.

"It's only one o'clock." She commented, pointing at the clock hanging above the bar, ticking slowly.

"Wow, that late?" He joked, feigning surprise with that home alone "o" expression. She laughed again, squeezing his forearm.

"I'm Shelly. You're funnier than I expected." Marshall, even in his fairly drunken state, had a feeling she didn't really mean it. Just how desperate was she?

Then again, did he have any right to judge? He'd been getting hard for Kyle thanks to his dry spell(he refused to count Kyle's hand as getting action and breaking his dry spell, but rather a result of pent up needs). He gave her a friendly smile.

Hell, if we're both in the same boat we might as well help each other out.

"Nice to meet you, Shelly. Can I buy you a drink?" He offered. As Marshall expected, she took the bait, beaming bright and bouncing in her chair(definitely trying to jiggle her god-given, or plastic surgeon-given, gifts, he couldn't tell which).

"I'd love one!" She exclaimed, sliding her fingers up his arm. "A martini would be fabulous." She smiled coyly and fluttered her eyelashes. Marshall nodded to the bartender, who immediately stopped grinning knowingly and went to work. Marshall made a mental note to reduce his spending budget for a while, otherwise it looked to be a ramen-and-tap-water week until his next paycheck, with all the money he was spending. Really, though, who cared if he had to scrape by for a week or two?

It was worth it if he could get Kyle's face out of his mind.

"So what brings you to a bar at one in the afternoon on a Wednesday?" He asked, ordering a cheap beer rather than more hard liquor.

"Nothing all that exciting. I only work nights, and last night was a real drag. I figured getting a good buzz on would improve matters." She nodded to the bartender as he set the tall, glistening martini glass in front of her. Shelly moved purposely slowly as she bent forward to lick the rim of the glass, taking a sip and practically moaning.

"So good." Shelly smiled and winked at Marshall before taking another, deeper drought. "How about you?" Marshall shrugged, lifting the beer to his lips to give him a moment to think up a good excuse.

"Shitty day at work. I ended up leaving early and the comfort of alcohol is very soothing to the soul." He replied vaguely. No way in hell was he going to tell anyone, even a strange horny chick like Shelly, exactly why he thought turning to pickling his liver was the only solution.

"How dreadful! You need to put work right out of your mind." Shelly leaned closer, lowering her tone to a whisper. "I'm sure I could help you with that." Marshall never in his life hesitated at such a blunt offer(excluding that run-in with Clara) but sitting next to the moderately attractive - if a bit brusque - woman, Marshall was suddenly uncertain.

Then Kyle's face flashed before his eyes, invading his thoughts like a damn virus, and that settled the matter.

"Sure, my place isn't far."

* * *

Bringing a girl home on a buzz at two in the afternoon was new, and not exactly something Marshall ever wanted to repeat. Shelly giggled flirtatiously and clung to him the entire way, only releasing him to go "freshen up" in the bathroom.

Now, laying on his own bed staring at his occupied bathroom, Marshall was starting to regret inviting her over. Allowing random women to know where he lived was definitely a no-no, but he knew he wasn't up to drive anywhere, and besides, they were only a few blocks from his apartment.

He shoved back the little voice in the back of his head that said he wasn't thinking about her at all, rather who he really wanted in his bed.

No. Marshall refused to think about that. He sat up straighter, committing to what he was about to do. He dug through the nightstand by his bed for a condom, knowing that would be necessary no matter who he brought home. Unplanned pregnancies were not in his future, he was sure.

The bathroom door opened and Shelly stepped out of the dark room in her lingerie. She must have planned on going home with someone, because her underwear matched perfectly. Black, with pink stars and hearts spaced sporadically apart. Marshall raked over her gently curved frame, at the firm, perky breasts and the soft swell of her hips. She was pretty small, too, barely topping 5'2".




Office Confrontations Ch. 03



She was the complete opposite of Kyle, and that's what Marshall needed. He leaned back on the bed, sitting only in his boxers, and waved his hand over. She grinned and sashayed toward him, straddling his hips and kissing him. She rubbed against his groin rhythmically, mewling into his ear all the things she wanted him to do to her.

After a few minutes, Shelly sat back with her eyebrows knotted and her lips pursed.

"Is everything okay? Do you...do you need to take something?" She asked. Marshall's eyes widened in confusion.

"What do you mean?" He demanded, highly affronted. She bit her lip and looked away.

"You're, well, you don't seem all that into it." She responded, pointing at his crotch.

Sure enough, Marshall was flaccid. Completely. Not even groping her and feeling her rub against him had turned him on. He suppressed a groan of embarrassment and irritation, fighting the blood rushing to his face―the wrong place for it to be rushing.

"Oh, no, I don't―I don't need pills. Sorry, it's--" He faked a cough, buying time. "When I drink it takes me a little longer." He shrugged helplessly, grasping at straws. This had, in fact, never happened to him before. In the handful of hook ups and short term girlfriends he'd experienced, he'd never not gotten hard instantly at a half naked woman rutting against him.

"Oh! Here, let me try harder." She grinned salaciously and reached into his boxers, squeezing and pulling. He closed his eyes, trying to get sucked into the sensation and not think about anything. Unfortunately, the first thing that came to mind when he closed his eyes was Kyle's hand gripped around his dick and bringing him to completion.

And, damn it all, the second that popped into his head, he began to swell.

"Ooh, there we go." Shelly cooed, moving faster. She thought it was her ministrations that had set him off. Marshall refused to accept that it wasn't. He shoved forward, finding her lips, both to shut her up and to try to distract himself.

Of course the first thought that came to mind was how soft and completely unlike Kyle's lips were. She was sensuous, subtle. Kyle took exactly what he wanted, claimed Marshall with his lips alone. Marshall bucked into her hand and she released him, stripping and pulling his boxers off. He lifted his hips, eyes still squeezed shut, and pulled her over on top of him. He stretched out beneath her, bending his knees, and the sound of a condom tearing caught his ears. Her hands found his stiff erection again and fully gloved his tool as he sat back.

Then her hips descended against him and Marshall thrust instinctively, moving against her rhythm as she filled the apartment with overly loud moans. Marshall still hadn't managed to shake Kyle's face from his mind, and he tried vainly to scramble for some heterosexual-ism, rifling through old girlfriends and desperately trying to replace Kyle's hungry gaze delving into his own.

Shelly undulated her hips and Kyle -- in Marshall's mind's eye -- leaned down for another scorching kiss. In the back of his mind he recognized Shelly's lips against his, but reliving his experiences with Kyle occupied ninety-nine percent of his mind.

With a few hard thrusts as he remembered Kyle rubbing his hands across Marshall's cum coated chest, Marshall exploded, and Shelly yowled as if she were in the throes of orgasm as well. Slowing, Shelly collapsed on top of his chest and curled her hands around his neck.

Marshall felt sick.

* * *

Getting Shelly out of his apartment was easier than he'd expected, and as he stood under the boiling spray of water from his shower, Marshall scrubbed away every last feeling of her body on top of his. He'd washed his raw skin with a rough rag at least three times from head to toe, and by the time he'd finished up the last of the body washing the water ran cold down his back. He sighed and shut the water off, toweling dry. He still felt the remains of his buzz, but didn't feel nearly as tipsy as he had before.

Still, driving was not an option. His car sat parked outside of Manny's Pub two blocks away, and he didn't trust himself even with a weak buzz behind the wheel.

Marshall stepped out of the shower, almost glowing pink from the intensity of his scrubbing. He stared in the slightly fogged up mirror, eying the haunted look in his gaze and the unruly mop of brown hair atop his head. He closed his eyes and leaned his head on the cool ceramic sink.

I don't look any different. Tired, but not different. Marshall thought. I feel like I should look different. Like I should magically have a femme lilt and a damn sign around my neck that says "I'm a homo, please come hurl condoms and lube at me". He growled under his breath and stood up.

Marshall didn't really believe that. Sure, before when he thought he was straight he hadn't exactly loved every gay man he met, but he wasn't an uneducated, prejudiced jackass. He knew every person was different and they were just themselves, but he couldn't help lashing out at the idea. At being gay.

Gay. Fuck. He was so gay it should hang around his neck on a sign.

But Marshall was wasting time. He headed from the bathroom and dressed casually, though he deliberated over what to wear, much to his chagrin.

It's not because I'm magically gay, it's because―well...because I want Kyle to like what I'm wearing. Fuck it, I want him to look at me the way he did before. I admit it okay? I want him to like me.

Marshall glowered. He was to the point of arguing with himself. What kind of moron argued with himself? In his own mind? Bat-shit insane people that belonged in a damn padded cell. Marshall finally settled on a slightly faded gray shirt and his favorite pair of jeans, worn to the point of fraying at the knees. He looked at himself in the mirror. It felt completely idiotic to try to imagine what Kyle saw when he looked at Marshall.

A slightly gawky, average guy with stupid unruly hair and stupid plain blue eyes, absolutely no tan whatsoever. Marshall gave up. If he kept musing on what Kyle would see, his sour mood would heighten and he'd lose his gumption.

Marshall grabbed his keys and took off. Fifteen minutes later he was sitting in the back of a cab while the cabbie drove aimlessly around the suburb he could have sworn Kyle lived in, unable to remember the exact direction. The cab driver was getting pretty damn irritated with him, too. He was almost to the point of giving up on finding the quaint little house. What the hell had he been thinking? Of course he couldn't just show up at Kyle's house and expect him to listen, or even open the door. Kyle made it very clear he had no interest in waiting for him to "get a clue", as he'd spat out last time they were together.

Hell, was that really only a few hours before? It felt like forever. Days. He dropped his forehead to the glass, staring listlessly at the bland, mismatched houses, none of them with that lovely wraparound porch or inviting gate.

"Wait! Stop here!" Marshall sat up stalk-straight and pointed at the little house, just like he remembered. He grinned and hopped out, cringing when he paid the driver almost forty bucks. It was worth it. As the cab disappeared down the street, Marshall stared at the house. This time the gate was shut, and though the lights in the window were off just like last time, it felt less warm and more foreboding. Marshall felt a bit uneasy. Could he really do this?

I have to. Marshall decided. He took a deep, calming breath, and opened the gate, gently closing it behind him. He slowly approached the front door. Pausing, Marshall could hear the sound of music, Mumford & Sons, if he were to guess correctly. Morose music, to say the least. He took another calming breath and reached out to press the doorbell.

Seconds later the music cut off and there was a long, painfully long, silence. After almost a full minute Marshall considered turning around and bolting. Kyle didn't want to see him, didn't want to bother. He about lost his nerve when the deadbolt clicked softly and Kyle stood in front of him in his work suit, hair mussed as if he'd been running his hands through it constantly. All the breath rushed out of Marshall's lungs as he stared, terror seizing him. What was he doing here? Why was he doing this? He needed to get out now!

"What do you want, Marshall?" Kyle's voice sounded blank and dead, just like before. That broke through Marshall's hysteria. He summoned up all the courage he could muster and locked eyes with Kyle.

"I'm here to talk." Marshall announced. Kyle's eyebrow ticked just barely.

"Uh huh. And I care why?" He asked, monotone voice grating at Marshall's brain. He hated that sound, he really did. He hated the lack of emotion in Kyle's normally passionate voice.

"Can you just let me in? I don't want to do this out here." Kyle's eyes narrowed.

"Look, I'm not up for more of your bullshit today, or ever for that matter. Get out of here, and don't come back." Kyle started to close the door, but Marshall shoved his hand against the white wood to stop him.

"No, I'm not going anywhere. We need to talk." Marshall took a steadying breath and stepped closer. "Please." Now Kyle's eyes widened and the blank mask faded. Marshall just didn't beg. He didn't plead; he was a douche and everyone knew it. Before Marshall could plead again and risk the apocalypse raining down upon them, Kyle stepped back and opened the door to usher him in―albeit reluctantly.

"Thanks." Marshall mumbled, unsure of what to do as Kyle shut but -- he noted as an afterthought -- didn't lock the door.

"Just get it over with. I'm not in the mood." Emotionless Kyle was back.

"Kyle..." Marshall trailed off. He really had no idea where to start. How did he explain the revelation he had? Or the fact that he―that Kyle was―that Marshall had begun to accept the truth?

"I'm sorry." He blurted, biting his lip and grabbing the back of his neck. His eyes dropped to the floor and he stared at the crack running along the door frame. "I didn't...I never meant to act like such a prick. I should never have―I'm sorry, okay?

"I was an idiot. I didn't want to believe, I didn't want to admit..." He sighed. "You were right all along." He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away completely.

"About?" The prompt surprised Marshall into looking over, eyes hesitantly opening just a fraction. Kyle stood there with his arms at his sides, staring at him apprehensively. He looked like he still really believed Marshall wanted to jerk him around. Marshall slammed his arm into the door and shoved against it, bruising his shoulder as he virtually collapsed onto the heavy wooden door.

"Fuck. This is just fucking impossible to explain." Marshall snapped. "Dammit, why are you always so impossible? Why can't shit just be simple?" He heard Kyle's intake in breath, and instantly regretted his outburst.

"Excuse me? You're the asshole stomping over here and bothering me in my own fucking home. Get out. I don't know why I bothered." Marshall could hear Kyle coming behind him and he whirled, grabbing onto Kyle's shoulders and digging in his fingers.

"I like you, okay?" Marshall growled, ignoring the heat rising to his face. "I fucking like you, and I'm a fucking flaming faggot, and I have no control over the fact that I can't stop thinking about you, and what it would be like to be with you, and, and..." He huffed, glaring up at Kyle's shocked expression.

"I'm interested. I want your hands all over me again, I want to grab you right fucking now and kiss you, and I can't stop these stupid fucking ideas from jumping into my head and out of my mouth before I can stop them, I--" He was silenced by Kyle's mouth crushing against his own, and he opened easily to the onslaught of lips and tongue and saliva. He explored every inch of Kyle's mouth, tangling his fingers into Kyle's hair like a dying man clinging to life with his last shred of strength.

Marshall admitted it to himself. He loved the feel of Kyle against him. His entire body tingled at just the taste of Kyle on his tongue, and he knew without a doubt he was hard as a rock. For Kyle. A part of his mind fought in terror against the admission, but he forced it down. In a way, it was a relief to finally accept the truth. He was so tired of pretending, of shoving feelings away like they weren't really roiling inside him. All of the emotions and feelings he'd shoved down over the past few weeks boiled out of him, and he moaned against Kyle's mouth as the heady feeling swirled around him and he melted into Kyle's skillful hands.

It definitely felt weird, surrendering himself to another man rather than holding a woman in his arms, not being able to control the situation the way Kyle seemed to do naturally. Marshall pulled back to suck in a breath, and instantly his lips were claimed again as Kyle roughly nipped his lip and dug his nails into Marshall's neck, dragging him even closer.

After what felt like a lifetime, Kyle pulled back, breathing heavily. He stared at Marshall for a long moment, unblinking. As always, Kyle's bright hazel eyes felt like they bored into his soul and tore all of his defenses to shreds.

"I see you still haven't learned to think before you speak." Kyle chuckled breathlessly. Marshall joined him, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the door. For a moment he had been terrified it was another goodbye kiss, and he realized how horrified he'd been at the mere notion of Kyle pushing him away. Fuck, how far gone was he? And when the hell did it all happen?

"Do you mean it?" Slowly, Marshall's eyes opened to find Kyle staring at him with a very new expression of vulnerability. His eyes screamed fear, and Marshall would never in a million years have believed Kyle even had the capacity to feel, much less feel fear. "Do you really want this? If this is some 'phase' where you think you're gay for five seconds and then curse my name and my 'damning' ways, I swear I'll rip your balls off." His voice grew rough and serious, but Marshall could still sense fear dripping from his body language, the way he held his hands close to his chest, and took a step back, curling in on himself. Almost as if shy Kyle was peeking out.

"I swear I mean it." Marshall exclaimed. He laughed shakily. "But...honestly, I have no clue what I'm supposed to do here. I mean, what the hell do we do?" He smiled nervously, dropping his eyes. "I mean, besides the kissing, which I have to say has grown on me." He joked with false bravado, but he knew Kyle saw right through him, just like he did from the beginning.

Kyle pushed him against the door and stepped back, arms folded across his chest. Marshall wasn't sure he liked the look in Kyle's eyes.

"Hey, who said I'm welcoming you with open arms?" He demanded, though the tone wasn't harsh. Marshall made a face, scrunching up his eyes and wrinkling his nose.

"The making out doesn't count?" Marshall inquired. Kyle shook his head, and Marshall could see a smirk fighting his lips.

"Nope. That was just to shut you up." Kyle's fingers traced his chin as he pondered. "No, I'm pretty sure you owe me after all this drama and running around." Marshall sighed.

"What do you want, Kyle?" Marshall muttered. Kyle grinned as if he'd been waiting for that response. He stepped closer and grabbed Marshall's face with firm hands. Marshall struggled at the close proximity and controlling hands, but Kyle held him immobile.

"First off, you're going to do exactly as I say for the rest of the day. No complaining, no arguing." He dug in his nails as Marshall opened his mouth to protest. "Starting now." Narrowing his eyes dangerously.

"If you freak out and panic or disobey I'm out, and I won't give you a second chance." The gleam in Kyle's eyes was still there, but his tone was dead serious. Marshall gulped. He hadn't been sure he even wanted something with Kyle a few hours ago, and now he was considering accepting that deal.

Hell, considering? With Kyle so close, within kissing distance, with that warm breath caressing his skin and those hands tight around his face, how could he even hope to resist? But that didn't stop him from wanting to argue.

"How is that a fair deal?" Marshall asked. "I don't see how this is all my fault. You're the one that started all this, and you sure as hell tortured me enough through it all."

"Oh, I'm sorry my showing interest in you was such hell." Kyle's voice sharpened. Marshall groaned inwardly.

"You know that's not what I meant." Marshall complained. Kyle leaned closer, barely an inch away.

"That's my one and only offer. Take it or get out." Marshall knew Kyle would kick him out. He knew Kyle could just walk away right at that moment and never look back, and that frightened him. The fear made his decision for him.

"Deal." Marshall whispered, leaning up to kiss Kyle. That was the first time he ever tried instigating something.

So of course Kyle pulled back and waggled his finger in Marshall's face.

"I don't think so. I didn't say you could kiss me." He stepped back and wrapped his hands across his chest. "Now strip." He grinned and waited patiently. Marshall blanched, starting to argue. He stopped when he thought of Kyle leaving for good. Marshall had fucked everything up. Kyle tried to show him the truth, and Marshall just spat it all back at him. Resigned, he pulled off his t-shirt.

"Ah, ah. Slower." Geez, Kyle was enjoying himself way too much. Marshall sighed loudly and slowed his movements, taking an inordinate amount of time to pull off a mere shirt. He slowly popped the button of his jeans and unzipped, blushing fiercely at his own arousal. Obviously he couldn't hide his interest in Kyle for anything.

Finally, his pants were gone and he stood in his boxers, barely pausing to wrestle with his shoes, which decidedly did not appreciate his pants trying to escape without their permission.

"The rest of it." Kyle was positively gleeful and Marshall glared, covering his embarrassment with a scoff, arms folding protectively across his chest.

"What about your clothes?" He demanded. Pausing, Marshall blinked in surprise; he did actually want to see Kyle without his clothes. He'd never seen Kyle in anything less than a full suit, though as he stared he noted how well it fit his lithe frame. Kyle cleared his throat, reclaiming Marshall's attention.

"Forget about my clothes and stop ogling! Undress." He commanded, his amusement visible by the quirk of his lip and the gleam in his eyes. Marshall steeled himself and pushed his boxers over his hips, stepping out of them. He was tempted to cover up, but he shamefully realized Kyle had not only seen him nude, but had jacked him off. Kind of hard to feign dignity after that.

"Very nice." Kyle commented, stepping closer and running a hand down Marshall's chest. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and walked away. Casting a look over his shoulder, Kyle called, "Come on, hurry up."

Marshall followed suit, feeling awkward as his junk was hit by the slight breeze from the air conditioner. Kyle led them to the bedroom and made him stand still while he circled Marshall's naked form.

"Alright, now undress me." Kyle held out his arms and Marshall stared at him, incredulous.

"What?"

"You heard me. Chop chop." He clapped his hands twice before holding his arms out again. That damn smug grin spread across his face. Marshall stepped forward, feeling his face light up again. Dammit, when did he turn into a blushing virgin?

Oh yeah, when he realized he was gay.

Kyle demanded he move slowly just like before, and Marshall quickly decided it took for-fucking-ever before they were both naked. Marshall couldn't figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing. The jacket slipped off easily, as it was already unbuttoned, and Marshall's fingers trailed over Kyle's toned arms, hidden by the sleeves of his pale blue button up. With fingers shaking slightly as he began on the buttons, one at a time, Marshall brushed back the fabric for every button he unhooked, pausing now and then to brush over the exposed skin with curiosity. Never before had Marshall looked at another man's chest and ached to touch it, but there he was, hands reaching for every inch of skin he could reach.




Office Confrontations Ch. 03



Marshall even went out of his way to run his fingers across Kyle's chest and stomach, trying hard not to stare at the rigid muscle and smooth skin. As the last button slipped out, he ran his hands back up Kyle's chest, catching the shirt by the collar and pushing it down. He let the fabric fall to the ground and dropped his eyes. Dealing with the shirt had been simple, no danger of awkwardness. Pants were a very different story. Beneath pants awaited male genitalia that Marshall may or may not be ready for. Thankfully, Kyle took pity on him and didn't rush him or try to force him. Being demanding was tolerable, enjoyable even. Being unnecessarily cruel was not.

Finally Marshall reached forward and hooked his fingers into the top of the waistband, trying very unsuccessfully not to look completely stupid. His hands continued to shake and his throat was so dry he didn't think a full gallon of water could wet his mouth. With the button undone, the sound of the zipper boomed around them. Marshall knew it wasn't really that loud, but it was daunting, and his mind over-exaggerated the truth. Kyle's vibrant maroon boxers peeked through and Marshall averted his eyes as he pushed the slacks to the ground, assisting in the finagling of the shoes.

Last, the red boxers glared up at him, with an obvious tent. Marshall gulped visibly, hesitating. After this, there was no turning back, no pretending he wasn't gay, that Kyle merely preyed on his insecurities and physical needs. His bullshit wouldn't fly from that point on, and he knew it as he stared at the contrast between pale skin and the near-blinding colored fabric. Running seemed like a viable option, and Marshall's eyes flicked toward the door, briefly contemplating bolting.

But he knew running would do no good. If it wasn't Kyle, it would be someone else. And Marshall didn't want anybody else. As insane as it felt, he wanted Kyle. He'd never before looked at a man and even considered tearing boxers stifling a sizable erection off(in fact, he made it a point not to be near another man's cock unless he had no choice standing at the urinal), but there he stood feeling that exact sensation building up inside. Understanding blossomed at the concept that he didn't want to pretend he wasn't interested, and he really couldn't go through another embarrassing hook-up with a girl where he imagined a man behind closed lids. Hell, next time he might scream out Kyle's name! He either threw himself in head-first or gave up on sex altogether.

Marshall stepped closer and bent at the knees, grabbing onto the hem of each leg. He hesitated for only a split second before pulling them down and straightening right back up, completely avoiding looking at what in his peripheral vision promised to be a force to be reckoned with. Instead, he turned his head away and focused his attention to the floor.

"Did you really need that many layers?" Marshall muttered under his breath as he kicked the last of Kyle's clothes away with his foot. As he did he surreptitiously took in Kyle's perfect body. The man must work out because he was lean and had lightly toned muscles everywhere, and thankfully not the obscene muscles some men worked six hours in the gym for. For the first time in Marshall's life he felt the urge to run his fingers down a man's body and feel the hard muscle beneath his touch. Marshall instantly dropped his gaze and turned away. What was he doing? Was he really even ready for this?

"Marshall, relax." Kyle took a step closer, and his voice didn't sound hard at all. In fact, he sounded...gentle. If that was even possible. Marshall decided it was a fluke, and jumped as warm hands pressed against his shoulder. After a second to adjust, he relaxed visibly and leaned slightly into the touch. Somehow Kyle's presence felt familiar, even though they had only known each other a few months, and only really got to know each other over the past month and a half. But in a world full of insincerity and self-centered people, Kyle was a comfort. He was real, right there next to him. Even if he just wanted to fuck because he could, at that moment, Marshall meant something to Kyle. He mattered, as unbelievable as it felt.

"It's just...weird." Marshall mumbled, unsure of how to put his feelings into words. His chest felt tight and he could feel his heart thudding loudly and betraying his nervousness(as if that wasn't blatantly obvious). "I don't feel any different, but when I look at you..." He blushed again, which pissed him off immensely. "Fuck." He grunted, clenching his jaw and squeezing his hands into fists, leaving crescent shaped marks ingrained in his palms. Kyle rubbed his shoulder with firm fingers, easing away some of the tension.

"You can look at me if you want." Kyle told him. Marshall looked over and caught Kyle as he began to grin wide. "I give you permission." Marshall snorted, suddenly feeling much less uncomfortable as he fell into the routine of arguing with Kyle.

"If I needed permission to stare at you, I would have asked." Marshall responded. But the jab made him feel like himself again. Like this new part of himself didn't change anything, didn't make him this whole different person. Marshall was terrified of losing himself. He gulped and turned to look at Kyle, taking in every detail, starting from the messy head of curls and those dark eyes staring right back at him, drinking him in. Marshall blushed and dropped his eyes, following the lines of his neck to his chest, and lower. Now Marshall was certain Kyle worked out, he was just the right kind of fit. He paused at Kyle's wrists, reaching out to grab the left one and turning it palm-up.

"I thought I saw something red last time..." Marshall bit off the rest of that sentence, remembering exactly what he'd been doing when he noticed Kyle's tattoos. He ran a finger across the Celtic design, noting that the image wrapped all the way around his wrist like a bracelet.

"What do you think?" Kyle asked. Marshall looked up guiltily when he realized he'd been staring at Kyle's tattoo for much longer than necessary. Kyle stared down at him openly, a very rare sight.

"They're interesting, really well done. What do they mean?" Marshall asked. Kyle shrugged, grinning sheepishly.

"No clue. I saw something similar online and told the tattoo guy 'fuck that, I want my own style. Make it wrap all the way around, and add some flare to it'." Marshall looked closer. The Celtic cross did look unique. At the center of the cross, where the two beams crossed, there looked to be a labyrinth interlaced within it. Kyle firmly pulled his wrist back, dragging Marshall out of his daze once again.

"Can I have that back now?" Kyle teased. "You know, if I wasn't so proud of those tattoos, I'd be much more offended that they're what's holding your attention." Marshall rolled his eyes at the comment and released his grip, stepping back to admire Kyle's lovely upper body. He'd yet to stare at the lower half, though he was curious as all hell.

Finally mustering up his resolve, Marshall's eyes drifted lower. And his eyes widened immensely. Kyle wasn't porno-huge, but he was damn close, and he looked thick. He wasn't sure what he was feeling as he stared at the prominent manhood sticking up and curving slightly to the left, but he did have a frightening urge to touch it. He quenched that curious desire fast. He wasn't ready for that, not in the slightest. Quickly pulling his gaze away, Marshall sought Kyle's eyes. As arrogant as those eyes were, Marshall's fears quieted as he stared into Kyle's deep hazel irises.

"Alright, enough leering." Kyle announced. "Come on." He waved his hands in a 'come hither' motion and stood next to the bed. Marshall straightened his shoulders and cleared the distance between them with a sure gait. Kyle gave him a look that said 'you're totally my bitch' when he approached that Marshall chose to ignore. He stopped a few inches away from Kyle, who stood at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. Marshall eyed the enormous bed(noting the gossamer canopy was a shimmering silver this time, rather than the deep forest green) with trepidation.

Thankfully Marshall hadn't spotted the dreaded handcuffs in his inspection. When he looked back at Kyle, Marshall knew he'd been caught in the act.

"You know, I hadn't considered the cuffs until I saw your face just now." Marshall's mouth widened as he panicked, trying to find the words to speak, to argue, to do something to keep from being chained up again. Kyle laughed and shook his head, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Kidding. Just kidding. You're too gullible, you know that?" Marshall's body language relaxed slightly, and he whacked Kyle's chest.

"Dick." Marshall grumbled. Kyle grinned brighter.

"Well, if that's what you were looking for..." Kyle grabbed his wrists firmly and pulled Marshall against his chest, and Marshall got the first full contact of a naked man in his life. He jolted, head pulling back, and Kyle's hands drifted down to Marshall's lower back, holding him close. Then Marshall felt it, that hot slab of cock between Kyle's legs, pressing against his thigh. Marshall panicked, heart pounding rapidly in his chest. His breath rushed out in a huge gush and his hands dug into Kyle's shoulder blades.

Never, ever, ever did Marshall expect to feel another man's cock against his leg, or anywhere near him. Ever. Standing there with Kyle's arms tight around him like steel bars, chest rubbing against his own as Marshall heaved and shook, Marshall was no longer sure of himself. He didn't want this. It was too much. He needed to get out. Now.

But Marshall didn't move. His nails bit into Kyle's skin, but Marshall was pulling him closer, not pushing him away. Marshall breathed in and his head dropped against Kyle's shoulder as he focused on every inhale and exhale. Marshall didn't know what to do. Was he gay? Wasn't he supposed to want to suck cock and bend over? He shook his head, discounting the stupid thoughts. Of course he wouldn't magically want everything, hadn't he already made a point of that? But he was so unsure about everything. He'd wanted this. Being with Shelly and only wanting Kyle proved that. He admitted it. He wanted Kyle. So he needed to stop acting like a scared little kid without a nightlight and grow a pair, since he obviously lost his when he left his dignity at the front door.

Marshall steeled himself and straightened, not pulling away but lifting his head to meet Kyle's eyes.

Kyle himself hadn't moved a muscle while Marshall flipped his shit, but as Marshall tried to push Kyle away to figure out what he was supposed to do, Kyle shifted his stance, rubbing their cocks together just once, just barely. Marshall sucked in a breath and moaned, because he'd never felt anything quite like that. He stared at Kyle with wide, unblinking eyes.

"What did you--"

"Shh." Kyle cut him off, rubbing Marshall's back slowly to ease the tensed muscles beneath his fingers. As soon as Marshall realized he was still poised to run, he relaxed visibly. Kyle's hands running up and down his spine felt familiar and calming, and sent tingling pin-pricks through his nervous system. He was firm and unyielding, the exact opposite of a woman's hands, the way the coarse skin elicited reassurance rather than the itch a female's light touch usually caused. Kyle knew exactly how much force Marshall wanted, probably because he felt the same when other people touched him.

That idea sent a pang of emotion through him and Marshall wrested his thoughts from Kyle's hands and where they may have been and instead focused on Kyle's expression. He seemed surprisingly patient, if a little amused. As soon as Marshall caught his eye, Kyle went into motion, as if he were waiting for Marshall to adapt himself to the situation. And Kyle, for his part, said nothing about Marshall's near hysteria. Instead, one hand released his shoulder and Kyle leaned back slightly, keeping their groins close together, not that Marshall was all that desperate to get away.

At least, not yet.

The hand Kyle had taken away suddenly reappeared, gripping both of their dripping erections and stroking slowly, incrementally building up the momentum. Marshall groaned and tipped back his head, mouth falling open as he fell into the most amazing feeling he'd ever experienced. He remembered when Kyle rubbed against him through denim, but he never expected that.

And Marshall was shocked to hear Kyle moan against his ear, the soft, deep sound reverberating through Marshall's body. Even more astonishing, he felt his cock jump and grow ever harder from the mere sound of Kyle's arousal.

Marshall's hips thrust in time with Kyle's hand and he finally felt the last tendrils of fear and worry disappear in the wake of desire. He felt himself building faster, tightening all over as he groaned, bucking into Kyle's hand. He was so very close, just a few more strokes would set him off. Suddenly Kyle's hand was gone and he pushed Marshall back, Kyle ignoring the hands reaching out to feel him again.

"Get on the bed." Kyle ordered. Marshall scrambled onto the matching silver comforter, ignoring that little voice in his head that kept saying 'wow aren't you an easy lay?' and sat down with his legs bent at the knees, back pressed against the wrought iron bars of the headboard. Marshall turned to stare at Kyle, who gleamed in the somber lighting of the bedside lamps.

"Lay back." Marshall obeyed without a second thought, scooting down until his head rested against the pillow and his hands laid on the tops of his thighs. His eyes found the metal just above his head and his fingers tightened on his legs.

That little voice of Marshall's still questioned Kyle, wondering if he'd go back on his word and pull out the cuffs, restrain him against his will. Marshal wondered if he would even mind. The shiver of desire gave him the impression that 'against his will' no longer fit the bill. If Kyle asked, Marshall would have hung upside down on a damn sex swing for him.

When did Marshall become so much of a whore for Kyle?

"Raise your hands above your head and grabbed the bars." Marshall turned to gaze at Kyle, who slowly climbed onto the bed himself. He placed a hand on each of Marshall's thighs and leaned down to press their lips together briefly. Marshall's hands roamed up Kyle's back to twist into his hair, trying to prolong the kiss.

Kyle smacked his hip lightly and sat back.

"I won't use the cuffs, but I want your hands out of my way. Grab the bars and don't let go until I say so."

"Or what?" Marshall couldn't stop the near whisper slipping past his lips, and Kyle's face lit up with emotion. He reached down to caress Marshall's cheek and closed the distance between them again, stopping millimeters from pressing his lips into Marshall's.

"I'll punish you." Was his sultry reply. Marshall shuddered, but didn't move for a few long moments. Kyle's hand tightened on his cheek. After another tense second of resistance, Marshall's hand reluctantly reached up to grip the cold iron.

"Good choice." Kyle smirked, though Marshall wasn't sure that was true. Marshall almost wanted to feel Kyle's punishment. He wondered briefly what Kyle would do to him, but quickly forgot everything as he felt Kyle's hands moving down his skin, and he gripped the bars as tight as he physically could.

Kyle pressed his thumbs into Marshall's inner thighs and used his knees to hold them in place. Marshall never felt more vulnerable or at someone's mercy like this, yet he was surprisingly unafraid. No, he was in anticipation. What else could Kyle's hands do that he never felt before?

Kyle's lips descended, claiming Marshall's as he knew how to do so well, but after a brief taste, Kyle dropped from his mouth and kissed the base of Marshall's ear, licking down his jaw line. Sparks ignited against his skin and his eyes fluttered closed, savoring Kyle's tongue flicking across his skin. The sensation of Kyle's wet tongue delighted Marshall, who expected much less gentle ministrations. Kyle licked and kissed down Marshall's jaw to his neck.

Marshall gasped as Kyle's teeth dug into his tender flesh, and he tipped his head back to give Kyle better access. His hands flexed against the bars and he resisted the urge to let go. Barely.

Kyle continued down Marshall's neck, alternating between rough bites and suction kisses. When he reached Marshall's collarbone, he bit down more than hard enough to bruise. Marshall groaned and pulled back, intensifying the bite when Kyle refused to let go.

"What are you trying to do, brand me?" Marshall gasped. Kyle's silent laughter shook through him and he released Marshall's poor reddened skin, kissing the teeth marks.

"Yeah, got a problem with that?" Kyle winked and bit lightly on his chest. Marshall sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

"Would it matter if I did?" Marshall avoided answering and Kyle shook his head, grinning.

"Not really." Kyle dipped down and bit Marshall's nipple. Marshall arched into him, a moan ripping from his throat. He clung so hard to the bars the iron bit into his skin, but he barely noticed.

"Dammit, Kyle." He panted. "You're trying to kill me aren't you?" He huffed. Kyle looked up at him curiously, then dropped his eyes. When he returned his gaze to Marshall's he was as smug as Marshall had ever seen him.

"Are you mad because you're enjoying this so much?" Marshall avoided his gaze and Kyle laughed. "You do! Who knew you harbored such violent kinks." He teased.

"Fuck off." Marshall grumbled. Kyle ignored him in favor of leaving another mark on Marshall's abdomen. He licked and bit every muscle before nibbling Marshall's hip bones. Marshall wiggled underneath Kyle and bucked instinctively. Kyle smacked his stomach.

"None of that." Kyle reprimanded, moving to his other hip for a kiss before licking the crease between his thigh and groin. Marshall bucked again, straining toward Kyle's mouth. Kyle pulled back and smacked him harder.

"Didn't I already warn you about that?" Kyle questioned. "Do it again and you'll regret it." Marshall winced and Kyle scooted down until he reached Marshall's thighs. Kyle nipped playfully at the skin, sucking hard until Marshall swore and opened his legs further. Kyle's mouth roved inward and up, ever so slowly approaching Marshall's aching need. His tongue danced slow circles, drifting closer and closer.

A phone broke the silence of Marshall's desperation and Kyle's mouth stopped moving. He leaned back and Marshall whined loudly at the crushing disappointment, wrapping his legs around Kyle's waist and tightened. Kyle grinned wickedly.

"Hold on. Gotta answer that." Marshall glared.

"Would it kill you to let it go to voice-mail?" Marshall demanded. Kyle held up a finger and hopped off the bed, after first prying Marshall's legs away from him. As Kyle answered, Marshall muttered, "Tease." Kyle glared.

"H-hello?" Came his meek greeting. A pause where Marshall couldn't hear the response ensued before Kyle spoke up again. "Oh, h-hi. Ho-how are y-you?" Marshall shifted uncomfortably. He was aching, bad.

"I'm f-fine. May I a-ask why you're ca-calling?" After a pause, Kyle looked over at Marshall with the most terrifying smile he had ever seen. Fear struck his heart and Marshall bit his lip so hard it almost bled.

Dear god. What does he have in store now?

"S-sure, that sounds g-great. I'll ta-talk to you l-later." With that Kyle strode back over to the bed and bent over Marshall, hovering an inch from his face.

"Who was that?" Marshall choked out before Kyle pressed him into a kiss. The kiss was long and delicious and Marshall let go of the bars to cup Kyle's face, glad to note Kyle didn't shove his hands away. Actually, Kyle's hands circled his hips, rubbing them slowly.




Office Confrontations Ch. 03



Kyle pulled back, sighing.

"As lovely as this is, we've got things to do. Get up and get dressed." He announced, pulling back and heading toward the closet.

"Excuse me?" Marshall asked, surprised. "But what about..." He gestured helplessly. Kyle waved his hand and turned away.

"Later. Get dressed or we'll be late." Marshall groaned. He reached down to take care of his aching need and got a shoe to the face.

"Don't you dare touch yourself. I didn't give you permission, and it's still my day." Marshall glowered but got up, considering defying anyway. Instead of wasting time and causing him to wait even longer to deal with his pulsing erection, he decided to get dressed. Unfortunately, his clothes were still crumpled up in the living room. He sighed and slipped out of the bedroom, grabbing his mussed clothing and stepping into his jeans, hopping to and fro, as he headed toward the bedroom. He didn't bother to button them just yet - all that constriction was going to kill him no matter what he did, he might as well spend time free as a bird - and moved to slip on his shirt. He returned to the bedroom intent on calling Kyle out and telling him to at least take care of his poor needy dick, since he was the one doing all the tormenting that afternoon.

Then he was distracted by Kyle's broad back as he dressed in the closet. Was that...?

"You have more tattoos?" He asked. Kyle nodded, turning toward him. Marshall tore his eyes away from Kyle's receding back and focused on Kyle's face. "Why didn't you say so?"

"You didn't ask." Kyle shrugged. Marshall really wanted to tear Kyle's shirt off and study those tattoos on his back―and anywhere else he had yet to look! "Maybe later if you behave I'll show them to you."

"Them?" Marshall bit his lip at the thought. Who knew tattoos turned him on?

"Yes, them. Now don't make me tell you again." Marshall huffed in frustration but proceeded to dress, stuffing himself into the tight confines behind his zipper. He looked up to see Kyle walking out from the closet in tight jeans and a long-sleeved maroon shirt. Was that his favorite color or something? But Marshall forgot about the color as it clung to Kyle's lithe body.

Kyle should wear casual clothing much more often.

"You ready?" Marshall gulped and looked back up, embarrassed. Kyle grinned, hands on his hips as he waited.

"Oh, yeah. I'm ready."

"Good, let's go."

* * *

Arriving at the cafe was certainly disconcerting. Marshall had not been expecting such a normal, commonplace outing. Rather, he'd expected some horrible, nightmarish place with gates and collars and bloody pitch forks. Hell, Marshall would have been more prepared being dragged to work for another six hours of paperwork.

Clara flagging them down, a whipped cream topped mocha-thing in hand, was definitely nowhere on that long List of Impossible Occurrences.

But there was more than Clara's blonde sluttiness terrifying him. Kyle insisted he drive, which Marshall was secretly grateful for, he didn't want to drive after drinking even if it had been a few hours since said liquor-ingestion. Though that wasn't the difficult part. The difficult part would have been driving with a cock as hard as steel, especially with Kyle using a hand to keep him at attention the entire time.

Even as he walked into the cafe, Marshall had to discretely adjust himself, which he had to do with his right hand(as one of the few left-handed males in the world) because his left hand was completely immobilized by Kyle's warm, firm grip.

Marshall was walking into a cafe with a hard on caused by a man to meet a diseased slut while announcing to the world(including their harlot co-worker) that he officially played for the other team.

Great. Just great. Marshall groaned inwardly, fear trickling into his chest. Clara would tell the entire office all about him being Kyle's bitch.

Marshall didn't realize until Kyle stopped and turned to stare at him, raising an eyebrow, that he'd stopped moving and was pulling at Kyle's fingers. His chest constricted from the held breath refusing to be released from his chest. His hands were clammy, slipping from Kyle's grip.

"Hey, you stood up for Clara earlier, I figured you'd be okay with meeting her for a chat." Marshall shook his head, looking away.

"No, it's not that, it's just..." Marshall pulled on their intertwined hands.

"What?" Kyle asked, exasperated.

"She'll see us!" Marshall muttered under his breath. "She'll tell everybody we're..." He gestured between them with his free hand, trying to convey what he still couldn't put into words. Kyle's expression hardened, his eyes narrowed and his lips flattened as his jaw tensed.

"What do you have a problem with, Marshall? Being seen with a man or being seen with me?" Kyle ground out between his teeth. He tossed Marshall's hand from his own and stepped back. Marshall reached out automatically, seeking Kyle's touch. He didn't think about it as he stepped closer.

"I didn't mean―you're not really 'out' at work, and I'm not sure I'm ready for every guy we work with to glare hatefully at us every time we walk by." Marshall tightened his hold on Kyle's hand. "I just...she's an incorrigible gossip. I don't know if I―I don't know what to do." Marshall admitted. Kyle stared intently into Marshall's eyes for a few seconds, unblinking, with a blank expression. It bothered Marshall that Kyle got so upset, he hadn't meant to offend him, he was just nervous. Scared, really. And he didn't understand why Kyle stared at him that way. Was he really upset at the statement, or was he just defensive? How the hell was Marshall supposed to tell? Marshall's blood ran cold under that dark, undefined look as he waited for some sort of reaction from Kyle. Finally Kyle's hand returned his squeeze and laced their fingers together.

"Clara won't say anything, but I'm not hiding in your homophobic closet, Marshall. I don't care who knows that I've taken men to my bed. I told you I'm not wasting my time with your bullshit, and I meant it."

"Give me a damn break, Kyle. I barely understand what I'm doing here, much less decided I'm...I'm...fuck, at least give me some time to cope before expecting me to wear panties and dance around in gay bars." Marshall grunted. Kyle opened his mouth to respond just as Clara flounced her way into their conversation.

"Hey boys! I wasn't sure if you saw me," she started, immediately launching into an exhausting tirade, "so I came over to make sure. It's great to see you both!" She engulfed them each in a hug, Marshall giving her a one-armed embrace as his hand was still tightly wound in Kyle's.

Clara gave their unrelenting hands a funny look but said nothing.

"H-hey Cl-Clara." Kyle greeted, tucking his chin against his chest and looking up at her through his lashes. He curled his free arm over his chest and scooted closer to Marshall, tucking his shoulder against Marshall. That would have bothered Marshall a lot less if he didn't notice that Kyle's distinct change in posture and voice happened directly after Clara's sudden appearance.

There he goes again. What the hell? Clara laughed and patted Kyle's forearm, causing him to wrap his arms around Marshall and avoid her grasp.

That's it. When we get out of here, Kyle's going to spill it.

"Yeah, it's nice to see you again." Marshall mumbled distractedly. Kyle surreptitiously jabbed him in the ribs and Marshall glared, covering up the expression when he caught Clara's confused face.

"Sorry, it really is good to see you, I was just worried about, um..." He trailed off, gaze flicking to Kyle, and her eyes widened. She blushed and dropped her gaze. Apparently she interpreted 'I'm terrified that you know I'm gay' as 'hey remember that time earlier today when Kyle treated you like shit? Yeah, let's bring it up now I'm sure Kyle will appreciate it'. Figures.

"I'm fine. Misunderstanding." Clara smiled sincerely at Kyle, who nervously smiled back. "Now come on boys, before we lose our table." They followed her obediently and a polite, spiffily dressed waiter appeared to get them beverages.

"Cl-Clara, I do ho-hope you f-forgive me." Kyle nearly whispered. "I di-didn't mean--" Clara waved him off, and he released a relieved breath, biting his lip.

"It's forgotten. You've explained and apologized enough." She smiled warmly. "I know you've been..." She paused and gave them both a look that clearly said she was highly satisfied with something, "stressed recently. But I hope everything worked out." Kyle, swear to God, blushed bright red. His cheeks lit up like the Fourth of July, and his mouth flapped open as he searched for something to say.

"I―uh―um―Cl-Clara don't..." Kyle shoved his head into Marshall's shoulder, but Marshall could see red blossoming on his neck.

What the...

"Come on, fess up Kyle!" Clara giggled, tugging on his arm. "You're not exactly hiding it. Just spill!" Instinctively Marshall threw his arm around Kyle and pushed her hand away. Kyle curled into him and Marshall tried to figure out why the hell he was clutching Kyle to his chest.

"Stop beating around the bush and torturing Kyle. What are you talking about?" Marshall demanded. Clara had the decency to bite her lip and smile apologetically.

"Well, I..." She looked to Kyle, who refused to pull away from Marshall's hold long enough to acknowledge the unspoken question. "I just wanted to know if you guys made it official yet." She giggled gleefully and stared expectantly at Marshall, who was noticeably flabbergasted.

"What do you mean? Make what official?" Marshall asked. Clara rolled her eyes.

"Really? You're pretending you don't know what I'm talking about? But it's so obvious." She sighed and pointed at them. "Are you two dating yet? Please tell me you are, I can't stand the suspense any more. How did you ask him, Marshall? I'm sure it was you, Kyle's much too shy to say anything. Was it after the lunch fiasco?" Her onslaught of questions already had Marshall blinking in shock.

"Tell me! I know you both left work early and didn't come back the rest of the day, what happened?"

"But we're not--" Marshall gasped, squeezing his eyes tight and turning away. Kyle's fingers dug almost painfully into his suddenly re-inflating manhood, and that was not a situation Marshall wanted to deal with while Clara sat right across from them!

"Oh goodness are you okay?" She asked, concerned. Marshall took a deep breath but couldn't pull Kyle off his dick without bringing attention to himself.

"I'm fine, I just bit my tongue." He lied through his teeth. "You want to know if we're d-dating?" He asked, only stumbling over the question a little. Clara nodded impatiently.

"Duh, though it's totally clear you are." She pointed to Kyle, who had all but climbed into Marshall's lap, and who visibly trembled.

Looks like I can't deny it even if I wanted to. Do I even want to? He shrugged off the thought and turned his attention to Clara.

"Of course we are." Marshall replied simply. He felt Kyle tense in his arms and Kyle's fingers stopped their torture at Marshall's response.

"Well? Details! Let's hear them. I've been positively dying from anticipation." She grinned, continuing to stare at the apparently official couple, leaning forward to rest her chin on the top of her hand.

"Wait, how did you...?" Marshall paused. How could she possibly know they were anything? Today was the first day he even considered anything relationship-wise, and technically they just shared some heavy petting. Not exactly boyfriend status. Unless...

"Um," Clara bit her lip, trying unsuccessfully to keep her eyes off of Kyle. Marshall wanted to yell, to scream at Kyle and rip his head off for speaking to anyone, much less Clara, about what they'd done together. But Marshall didn't yell.

He smiled.

"Well, if you already know you might as well hear the full story." Kyle must have sensed something in his tone because his grip immediately tightened on Marshall, who did his best to ignore it. He leaned in conspiratorially, wrapping his arm tight around Kyle's waist to keep him from falling against the table―and from adding his own voice to the conversation.

"You must know we had a huge fight earlier today." She nodded, eyes wide. Marshall bit his lip to keep from laughing, though he couldn't stop the smile fighting to take control of his mouth.

"We were both very upset." He covered his mouth on one side and gestured to Kyle with the other hand. "Very upset." He pushed out his lower lip and gave her the most sympathetic look he possibly could.

"I came over to apologize, I felt just awful about yelling at poor Kyle, and he answered the door in tears, poor boy!" Marshall winced. The pain in his groin was almost unbearable, but he knew it would be worth it if he could pull it off.

"Oh, no!" Clara gasped. "Kyle, you poor dear." She reached out to comfort him, but Kyle crushed himself into Marshall's side, making sure to further injure Marshall's manhood in the process.

"He was hysterical. I immediately lifted him into my arms and he cried on my shoulder. When he finally managed to calm down, we sat down on the couch and I pulled him onto my lap.

"I told him I never wanted to see him cry again. He blubbered and confessed his feelings for me. I swear to god, he blushed bright red when I told him I felt the same. Then I kissed him and asked him if he would be my boyfriend. Oh, he was just so cute I couldn't stand it." The sickly sweet tone coated Marshall's voice, and though he never thought he would ever speak so easily about having a boyfriend(dear god, boyfriend), knowing he was getting Kyle back for all the torture he'd committed earlier made everything worthwhile.

Fabricating the lie made Marshall grin so wide the smile split his face. He could feel Kyle shaking in fury.

Oh, this is too perfect.

"Isn't that right sweetie?" Marshall cooed. Marshall felt Kyle's nails digging into his chest and Kyle sighed against him before slowly pulling his face away and nodding his head imperceptibly. His cheeks were still flushed bright red.

"Aw, he's feeling shy. It's okay Schnookums." Marshall gently tipped Kyle's chin up to look him in the eyes.

Murder glinted back at him, hazel eyes boring into him with unadulterated fury. Marshall quickly turned his attention to Clara.

"You two are just the most adorable boys I've ever seen!" She squealed. "Aw, I bet Kyle has a cute nickname for you too, huh?" She gently pricked Marshall's forearm with her glittering pink talons.

"I've got a few names I'd like to call him, but none of them are 'cute'." Kyle growled under his breath. Marshall coughed, covering a laugh.

"What did you say?" Clara asked sweetly. "I want to know!"

"I s-said I c-call him..." He blushed brighter, voice dropping to a whisper. "H-honeybuns." Marshall's jaw literally dropped as Clara fanned herself, fluttering her eyelids.

"So cute! I'm so glad you two are finally official." Cute was not would have called 'Honeybuns'. Then again, 'Schnookums' wasn't exactly cute either...

"Um, Cla-ara?" Marshall's eyes fell to the top of Kyle's head of thick brown curls. Clara quieted down and returned her attention to Kyle.

"You....you w-won't spread this all o-over the office, wi-will you?"

"Of course not! What you two do in the privacy of your own home is none of their business." Clara huffed as if even the idea of speaking to their fellow workers disgusted her.

Marshall wondered if her infamous reputation was the cause of her reaction.

But Marshall was more surprised by Kyle's question. Hadn't Kyle just announced he didn't care what anyone else thought of him?

Was he doing it just to make Marshall feel better?

"Enough about work, let's chat!"

* * *

The meal passed by much faster once the food arrived. Clara's salad kept her mouth busy, which pleased Marshall to no avail. On the other hand, Clara's constant questions had driven Kyle to literally retreating into Marshall's lap, and every time Marshall griped in a rude manner or fueled Clara's constant questions with bald-faced lies, Kyle ground his hips into Marshall's(by now leaking) erection.

When the food arrived, Marshall had hoped Kyle would retreat to his own chair. No such luck. The damned waiter placed both of their plates in front of Marshall, and Kyle snuggled in, draping his legs over the side of Marshall's lap, keeping one arm wrapped around him at all times.

If it wasn't for the fact that Kyle kept purposely rubbing against him in such a public place, a place boners were certainly frowned upon, Marshall would have enjoyed Kyle's closeness and his need to keep in constant contact, and the realization surprised him. He found himself tucking an arm around Kyle's waist, shifting so he could still reach for his club sandwich without having to let Kyle go.

Even with the awkward, uncomfortable situation and the trepidation of being out in public with a man - and Marshall still constantly looked around to make sure no one was glaring at them, that no one from work appeared to witness the gay pile-up - Marshall did start to enjoy the afternoon. Maybe...maybe Marshall could do this.

"So..." Clara spoke softly, pulling Marshall away from his epiphany, and Marshall could see a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

Oh, dear god what now? He grumped, groaning inwardly as he awaited their fate.

Kyle paused mid-bite, arm raised, and Marshall rolled his eyes, grabbing his hand to set it back down against the table, allowing the pastry to drop to the plate.

"So?" Marshall asked, resigned. Kyle cringed into Marshall's chest as per usual. Ugh, was he avoiding questions just to see Marshall squirm?

"Well, I gotta ask..." Clara trailed off, eyes flickering between both of them. Marshall sighed.

"Spit it out, would you?" He demanded, patience long gone. Kyle 'fidgeted' at the outburst, crushing Marshall and digging his nails into Marshal's legs. Those fuckers were sharp!

"Have you...well, I know Kyle's not gonna answer 'cause I tried for days after the―anyway, I gotta know. Have you always been gay? I mean, I knew you weren't very interested in me but I've never been sure..." Marshall gulped, neck heating up and burning bright red.

"Um, uh..." Marshall bit his lip. "Well..."

"Oh, don't tell me you're shy too! Kyle's been giving me the runaround for months." Clara pouted, fluttering her lashes―as if he was going to be swayed by a puppy pout!

Months...? Marshall shook his head.

"I haven't always been...I'm not...ugh. Look, before Kyle the only time I ever looked at another man's junk was to compare sizes." He answered bluntly. Clara flushed, covering a giggle with her hand.

"I can't believe guys actually do that." Marshall shrugged, and Clara tapped her chin, plotting. "Then which of you is...you know?" She held her hands out, palms facing each other, and moved them apart slowly.

"Ah," Marshall gaped, stammering. "Clara, that's not an appropriate question!" She frowned.

"Aw, come on. I won't tell anyone I promise." She smiled innocently at Marshall - seriously, how did she pull off such a sweet-looking expression?

"No, that's none of your business. Really, Clara. You don't hear me asking--"

"S-same." Kyle mumbled. Marshall's head snapped down, frustrated that he couldn't look Kyle in the eye from that angle.

"What?" Clara asked excitedly, leaning closer.

"W-we're th-the same si-size." Kyle blushed and rubbed his face into Marshall's arm.

But I--but we―you're thicker at the very least! Marshall argued silently, though he wouldn't give Clara the satisfaction of listening in on that discussion.




Office Confrontations Ch. 03



"No way, how perfect." She squealed.

"Yeah, well." Marshall muttered. Kyle went back to his pastry, eating with vigor―probably to avoid answering more questions. Smart bastard.

"One last thing." Clara started. Marshall wasn't surprised when Kyle ate faster.

"Alright fine, but this is the last one. We're eating for Christ's sake!"

"Who's the catcher, if you know what I mean?" Kyle literally choked, dropping his food and clutching his chest, pounding on it with his fist. Marshall swore he heard Kyle laughing.

"Ex--" Kyle coughed roughly. "Excuse m-me, I have to-to--" With that Kyle took off, scampering out of Marshall's lap and disappearing. Marshall merely continued to gape, completely taken aback by the question.

"I―we―what is wrong with you? You can't just ask people that!" Marshall sputtered.

"Please? I'm so curious, and you said one more question." She pouted pathetically, but that wasn't working on Marshall.

"Not that one! Besides we don't, we haven't...gotten that far." He finished lamely. Clara huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away.

"Oh, fine. But I get to ask one more question." Marshall sighed.

"Whatever, but no more sex questions." He glared. She nodded, face growing serious. Marshall waited as she took her time deciding.

"Do you, are..." She paused, deliberating.

"Yes?" Marshall prompted impatiently.

"Do you really care about him? Not just some hook up, or a 'phase'?" She asked. Marshall blinked, surprised by the change in conversation, but just as surprised by her concerned tone.

"Do I..." Marshall didn't know what to say. Clara nodded, finally keeping her mouth shut.

"Well, I think I--" he took a deep breath. "don't know how, and god knows why, but I think there's something...I don't know. Something. More than just some weird fluke or phase. Hell, if it is a phase I'm a fucked up individual." Marshall shrugged, dropping his eyes to the table. "I want to see where this goes."

Clara's face lit up in a grin and she reached over the side of the table to hug Marshall around the neck. Surprisingly, Marshall didn't immediately pull back from her embrace. The relief Marshall felt at admitting such thoughts out loud was palpable.

"Oh, thank goodness! I couldn't imagine how he'd survive if you didn't. You should have heard him after your fight, he was so upset. I thought his heart was breaking." That statement shocked Marshall, and his mouth gaped open, eyebrows furrowed. He knew Kyle wanted him for some reason or another, but he truly cared that much? Marshall had made up the lie about Kyle crying but...what if it was true?

Marshall shook his head. No way. It wasn't true. Kyle didn't feel that way, he was just...what? He was what? Marshall didn't know anything anymore. Nothing made sense.

"Um, look. I need to go save Kyle from embarrassment. I'll be right back." She nodded, sipping her frothy caramel drink. Marshall paused after he stood, staring at her.

"Was he really that upset?" Marshall asked. Her eyes tightened and she pursed her lips.

"Of course. But you saw him crying earlier, you already know that." Marshall grunted, turning toward the restroom.

Did Kyle really care? Or was that as fake as the rest of Kyle's personality?

Marshall no longer knew which Kyle was real. Worse, he didn't know which Kyle he was falling for―oh, fuck, 'falling for'? What the hell was his problem? Marshall shuddered and pushed the thought away. He was terrified, his whole body pulsed with nerves, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Was this real?

Was he really falling for Kyle?

Finding the bathroom took longer than expected, and gave Marshall way too much time to brood over his worries. Thankfully when he saw the Men's room he was able to brush off everything and focus on dealing with the task at hand. Eventually Marshall managed to open the door to the bathroom(his hand had held the doorknob for a good three minutes before he got up the courage to walk in) to search for his supposed boyfriend.

"Took you long enough." Kyle morphed out of the shadows of one of the stalls, eying him with an unreadable gaze. "I thought I was going to have to walk back all by my lonesome."

"No, Clara just kept bombarding me with questions, as usual." Marshall shrugged, stepping over to the urinals to relieve himself. The combination of too much liquid and Kyle's weight on his lap made for a disgruntled bladder.

"Oh, did she now? Care to share with the class?" Kyle came up behind him, tucking his fingers around Marshall's hips.

"Sorry Schnookums, I don't want to make you blush with such vulgar details." Kyle dug his nails painfully into Marshall's sides.

"Dammit Marshall, I--" Marshall flushed and zipped up, slipping from Kyle's grasp.

"Sweetie, I do so love our bathroom conversations but we have company to attend to." Marshall quickly scrubbed his hands and took off toward the door before Kyle could protest.

"Coming?" He called, holding the door open with a satisfied smirk. Kyle glowered. False bravado, back again in full force.

"You're going to regret that." He growled, stalking out of the bathroom. Marshall caught up to him and wrapped his arms around Kyle's waist.

"Oh, I hope so." Marshall whispered into Kyle's ear.

* * *

Dinner ended a few minutes later, with Kyle nervously tucked into Marshall's lap. He fidgeted incessantly, wiggling his foot, tapping his fingers on the table; however, he wasn't trying to frustrate Marshall, who finally had the chance to calm down from all the stimulation.

It was blatantly obvious Kyle wanted to leave. Especially to Clara, who promptly left by the second rendition of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star via fingernails.

On the way home Kyle didn't say a word―outright refused to. Marshall eventually gave up trying to keep the conversation going and sat back, apprehensive.

They pulled up to Kyle's house, thankfully. That meant Kyle wasn't so pissed that he didn't want to see Marshall again. However, that did mean he was in for some kind of retribution, and there was no predicting exactly what Kyle would do next.

Kyle unlocked the deadbolt and left Marshall standing at the door, unsure about whether or not he should follow.

"Marshall." The light, emotionless voice sent chills down Marshall's back. He wasn't sure if they were good chills or foreboding chills but he knew he'd find out as soon as he stepped over the threshold and locked up.

Unsurprisingly, Kyle wasn't in the living room. He could see a glow lighting up the hallway. Of course Kyle was waiting in the bedroom.

Even with the uncertainty of Kyle's actions Marshall could feel himself getting aroused, though he willed his cock to go down to no avail.

Kyle stood in front of the bed, fully dressed. Not a good sign.

"You." Kyle's tone remained guarded and Marshall gulped visibly. "You just had to be a smart-ass on an innocent outing."

"Hey, sh--" Kyle glared at him and took a step forward.

"Strip. Get on the bed. Now." Short, forceful commands. Marshall dropped his gaze, embarrassed that he was reacting so quickly to Kyle's tone. He stripped, pretending not to notice the distinct erection jutting out between his legs.

Kyle said nothing as Marshall climbed onto the bed, laying on his back.

"Put your hands on the bars."

"But--"

"Do not test my patience, Marshall." Marshall's suddenly dry mouth snapped shut and he reached up to grip the metal bars. Kyle grabbed the cuffs from his drawer and leaned over. Very slowly he cuffed Marshall to the bed. Marshall licked his lips and wiggled slightly as the heat and need built up in his groin. Kyle finished with his wrists and moved to the bottom of the bed, gripping each ankle one at a time and pulling them out until he lay spread-eagle stretched out on the mattress, unable to move more than an inch in any direction. The ankle restrains were new, and frightening.

Yet Marshall had never felt so hard, or so eager.

"You are the most disobedient man I've ever met. It's time to show you exactly what disrespect earns you. I fear I've been too lenient." Kyle's voice instantly made Marshall rock hard, and somehow he found his tongue.

"Lenient? That was lenient? We need to get you a dictionary." Kyle said nothing, just turned on his heel and headed back to the drawer, prying it open and pulling something from it.

Marshall managed to catch a glimpse of it, but the band of leather and metal hoops baffled him. What the hell was he going to do with that? Marshall scoffed.

"Rings? What can they possibly teach me?" Kyl glanced at Marshall's expression and smirked.

"Why don't you watch and see?" Marshall raised a brow and Kyle slipped onto the bed, kneeling between Marshall's legs.

"What are you--" Marshall yelped as Kyle grabbed his cock, pulling it straight. With quick fingers, Kyle slipped the largest ring over his dick and pulled it all the way to the base, squeezing Marshall's balls through, causing Marshall to grunt.

Marshall struggled against his hands, pulling frantically but unable to escape. The pressure on his manhood was unbelievable, almost too much to stand. One by one, Kyle pushed the rings down his cock until all four - including the one behind his balls - were so tight they couldn't go any further back. The last one rested just beneath the head of his cock, and his dick curled toward his stomach as the leather stretched between the silver hoops, with very little room to give for either his cock or the rings.

"Kyle, what the fuck is that? And why does it―fuck," Kyle tugged at the leather band attached to the rings, and the tight grip tormented Marshall's poor cock, sending pangs of pain through his groin. He yelped and struggled, causing the metal rings to dig in tighter.

"They're called the Gates of Hell. Still feeling skeptical?"

"No. Fuck. I'm not skeptical, now take them off." Marshall fought against his bindings, unable to tear the damned hellish rings off of his cock without being able to use his hands no matter how hard he struggled.

"Why in the world would I do that? I'm enjoying myself way too much to stop now." Marshall groaned and bucked as Kyle ran a finger down his shaft.

"Very funny. Come on, ahh," Marshall barely bit off the moan. His eyes searched for Kyle's as he bit down on his tongue, covering the sounds trying to escape.

"I didn't say you could speak." Kyle pulled his hand from Marshall's cock to drag his nails down Marshall's stomach. "I told you I'd punish you earlier, didn't I? Maybe you should have listened to me."

"Dammit Kyle―ouch!" Marshall yelled. Kyle's nails sunk deeper into Marshall's chest, close to drawing blood.

"Boy, you are such a glutton for punishment." Marshall grunted at the comment, tensed until Kyle prized his fingers from his nearly gouged skin. "You just keep disobeying."

"Maybe normal people don't consider bondage as a likely punishment when they joke around." Marshall retorted. Kyle scoffed, eyes flashing. Marshall looked down at his aching need, feeling his groin tighten as blood rushed to the red crescent marks in his chest. "Not that I'm complaining." He muttered wryly. Kyle looked at him sharply.

"Are you saying you're enjoying this?" Kyle questioned. Marshall rolled his eyes, jutting his hips up, groaning when the tip of his cock smacked against his stomach, sending even more sensations through him.

"Does it look like I'm getting soft?" Marshall replied. He looked away from Kyle's gaze. He could feel the heat building in his face but could do nothing about it. He hadn't exactly expected to get turned on from Kyle's kinky tastes, but damn it all if he wasn't intrigued. His instincts screamed to fight, to run, to deny everything.

But Marshall was sick of denying himself, denying his desires. And Kyle's hands felt really good splayed out on his thighs. Marshall even caught himself taking in Kyle's hard body with lusting eyes. Yeah, there was no denying the truth of the matter. Kyle's every action, even breathing evenly and staring in confusion as he was doing at that second, turned Marshall on. By that point, denial was out of the question. Only aching need filled his conscious thought.

"You do understand the function of a cock ring, don't you?" Kyle responded with a tinge of amusement. Marshall reluctantly returned his gaze.

"I'm starting to learn." He grunted. "Look, this isn't something I've ever experienced, and I have never wanted to fuck a guy, but when I say I'm interested and am enjoying myself, you can damn well believe I mean it." Blunt, but accurate.

"You keep telling me you're sick of my bullshit. So am I. Now will you get back to...whatever the hell you've got planned? This cock thing is killing me." Kyle sat back, astounded. Marshall raised an eyebrow.

"What, can't finish what you started?" That set Kyle into action. He pulled Marshall's balls roughly.

"No more talking." Kyle ordered, stepping off the bed and grabbing something else from the drawer. He returned, acting as if they never had the conversation in the first place, which suited Marshall just fine.

Kyle trailed something across Marshall's chest, but the weird mini pom-pom thing didn't look familiar at all. The long, thin strings felt soft and ticklish on his skin wherever they touched him. This was punishment? This was all he's got? Marshall opened his mouth to comment, and the gentle tingling was replaced by sharp stings, pulsing across his chest where the tassels landed.

Marshall flinched, gritting his teeth. At least he hadn't been a pansy and yelped. The gentle teasing came back, trailing down his stomach in lazy circles. When the sensation dipped down lower and Marshall took in a sharp breath, leaning into the touch, Kyle raked him again with their unrelenting bite.

Marshall gasped, writhing.

"Damn, that thing hurts." He groaned. Kyle laughed.

"That's the point." He smirked, running the tassels across Marshall's cock. Marshall's eyes widened fearfully.

"You wouldn't." Marshall yelped, bucking. His chest heaved as his cock pulsed, angry and leaking. "Fuck!" Kyle smirked and trailed the awful device across Marshall's thighs. Marshall had heard of something similar, though much more archaic, and the word came to him.

Flogger. The bastard is flogging me!

"I think you'll find there isn't much I wouldn't do." Kyle smacked his legs hard and Marshall jolted.

"Dammit! You could at least - ouch! - warn a guy!" Marshall grunted, wincing when Kyle smacked him again.

"Why? So far you've lied and mocked me for your entertainment. I should get the same amount of satisfaction, no?" He asked. Kyle laid into his chest painfully, lighting up the fading skin once more with striped welts.

"Fuck! Alright, I'm sorry for teasing you. I was just trying to get back at you for all the molestations over the past few weeks." Marshall growled. Kyle paused, looking down on him.

"How's that working out for you?" He asked.

"Not great." Marshall grumbled.

"Give up?" Kyle taunted, hefting the damn mini-flogger-thing.

"Never." Marshall replied, lips upturned in a grin, eyes flashing. Kyle set the device down, instead of hitting him again as Marshall had anticipated.

"Then maybe I should stop toying with you and really put some effort into this." Kyle unlatched Marshall's ankle restraints. Surprised, Marshall reacted too late. As soon as they were undone, Kyle flipped Marshall onto his stomach, the cuffs on his wrists tightening painfully. The restraints were replaced and Kyle straddled his hips, reaching to adjust the cuffs.

"What are you doing now?" Marshall questioned, clenching his teeth as he tried to avoid crushing his poor, trapped manhood throbbing painfully underneath him.

"Do you really want to know?" Kyle questioned, sliding off the bed. Marshall shifted, enjoying the new-found friction. Kyle swatted his hip.

"None of that." He growled. "Scoot up." Marshall was much too far-gone to ignore the command. He raised on his hips as much as he could - maybe five inches max - and Kyle pushed a pillow under him, propping him up slightly.

"What are you--" Marshall started, but Kyle's sharp nails in his hip stopped Marshall from finishing the question.

"Lay back down, you'll see soon enough." He stepped back, but this time Marshall couldn't see what Kyle left the bed to grab, he only felt Kyle approaching as the bed shook from the sudden weight.

"One last thing for us to discuss before I consider forgiving you for all of this shit." Marshall attempted to look at Kyle, but he could only catch a glance at Kyle's arm, the one without the new "toy", or whatever Kyle found.

"Alright, what is it?" Marshall ventured.

Instantly Marshall howled and struggled against the restraints, cursing loudly. His left ass cheek flared up in agony, but it wasn't the sting of the flogger. No, instead of a few small welts, his entire cheek burned. Marshall's eyes watered.

"What the fuck was that for? This isn't a discussion." He half whispered, unable to breathe, his entire being centered on the aching burn on his ass.

"This is a very important component of our discussion. I would have started out with words, but you pissed me off so much I saw red." Marshall swore he could hear the fury in Kyle's voice.

"What did I do? All I asked was what you wanted to talk about." Pain flared up on his other ass cheek and he clamped his jaws onto the pillow beneath him, stifling the scream.

"Oh, I'll tell you Marshall." Kyle growled. "Schnookums?" Kyle demanded, sitting up from his position between Marshall's legs. Marshall paled. Maybe 'Schnookums' hadn't been such a funny nickname after all...

"Fucking Schnookums," Kyle beat his ass again with whatever the fuck he held in his hands, and Marshall blinked back tears.

"Fucking Schnookums, Marshall." Kyle reiterated as if Marshall hadn't heard him the first time, hitting Marshall again though he never made a sound to earn the punishment. "Of all the names you could have called me, that one infuriates me to no end."

"Ky--"

"Shut it." Kyle snapped, and there came a sound like whistling in the air before a loud smack, and a stinging shot across Marshall's ass right down the center, causing him to yelp and pull his head from the pillow.

"Every time I hear you saying Schnookums in my head..." At 'Schnookums' Kyle left a hard slap at the center of his ass, vertical across the cleft between his cheeks, and the welt burned like fire. "I want to pound your ass until you're screaming. And with every thrust I want to whisper Schnookums into your ear, so you know exactly what you've done to me." He smacked Marshall again at the nickname, this time lower and on his sensitive thighs.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you Marshall? Oh, no. I warned you when you first started that bullshit lie about me crying into your arms. You just kept on going, kept digging a bigger grave with that damned Schnookums." Marshall shouted and his wrists tugged hard on the cuffs, fighting though it was useless.

"The next time you call me that fucking word I swear I'll do more than leave your ass black and blue, you got it?" Marshall's breathing had grown shallow, body tensed in anticipation for the next slap. He gritted his teeth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut as if the tighter he held himself, the less everything would hurt.

"Whatever you say, Schnookums." Kyle laid into his ass with whatever he held so hard and so many times Marshall's eyes squeezed shut and his breath came in short gasps.

"Oh, please, Marshall. Keep it up. I can beat your ass for hours, I've been meaning to take out my stress on something lately."

"Damn, Kyle, quit getting your panties in a bunch." Marshall hissed at Kyle's ass-abusing retaliation for the comment, though he couldn't imagine any inch of his ass not already flaming so Kyle really didn't need to dole out any more punishment, and pressed on. "It was a joke."




Office Confrontations Ch. 04



(Finally the wait is over! I apologize for the months of disappointment, but I wanted to make this extra special – and I tend to ramble for pages on end, sorry! - and now I have accomplished that task! OC 4 is here to stay, and I hope it lives up to your expectations! As always, I love comments, questions, and interesting tidbits so express yourself~ Thank you so much for the feedback for the previous chapters as well, they convinced me to keep writing when I feared I was wasting my time. 

PS, just to note, no matter how much unprotected sex these two lovey dovey idiots have, this is a fantastical relationship where the omniscient master of the universe, i.e., me, has deemed them both clean and healthy adult males. This is not the case in the real world―safe sex is important so use those love gloves!)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Marshall's phone went off at exactly five-thirty am, beeping obnoxiously on Kyle's dresser. Marshall moaned unhappily and snuggled closer to Kyle's chest. He curled against Kyle's warmth before his eyes flew wide and he tensed. It took a second to remember where he was, but when everything from the night before settled in, he relaxed back into Kyle's arms. It felt odd, scooting closer when before he would have run screaming. Odd, but good. He liked the smooth, firm skin and the hint of muscle beneath his touch, and especially Kyle's warm hands tightening around him, compressing his chest.

"Marshall what the fuck is that sound?" Came the sound of a groggy, very pissed off Kyle. Marshall was smart enough not to laugh, and tried to pull away. Kyle held on and dug in his nails.

"It's my alarm. I have to get into the office early to finish the work we ditched out on yesterday."He croaked, clearing his throat at the dry scratch building up. I promised the boss I would deliver our work on his desk by eight am."Kyle groaned loudly and cracked open an eyelid.

"Why in the hell would you do that?" He grumbled, sitting up slowly. Marshall pushed him back down and Kyle retaliated, shoving his hand away and fixing Marshall with a glare. Marshall, fearing his life, raised his hands in defeat and sat up, scooting out of the way.

"You don't have to do anything, don't worry. I've got it."He explained, trying to placate Kyle - obviously not a morning person - who looked as though he was fighting to keep from throttling him. Kyle raised an eyebrow and ran a hand through his completely insane bedhead.

"How'd you pull that off? And for that matter, why didn't I get a call about taking off early?"Kyle asked, sticking his feet over the edge of the bed and standing up. If you don't shut off that damn alarm I'm going to throw your phone out the window."Marshall rolled his eyes and hopped out of bed to deal with the offending phone.

"I saw that."Kyle growled. Marshall resisted commenting and continued on the original question. 

"I told him you got food poisoning and that I had to drive you home. He seemed to believe it, but he probably didn't really care."Marshall shrugged. "He said we have to be there today, though, or you better find a doctor's note, fast."Kyle ignored him and headed into the bathroom for his morning piss, not pausing to close the door.

After last night, apparently boundaries were over. Speaking of which...he felt some unusual discomfort in awkward places, and the realization of it made him blush―and other, less appropriate reactions.

"Just go back to bed, I've got it."Marshall called, rooting around for his pants. He sighed. He had to stop back home to grab fresh clothes, otherwise their colleagues might get curious about his outfit.

"I don't need you to do my homework for me like I'm incapable of doing my own job."Kyle called, but Marshall didn't hear irritation in his voice, just honesty. That surprised him; he'd expected much more of a fight.

"I'm not trying to baby you, fuck. I'm just going into the office to get everything done. Besides, you did most of the work yesterday anyway.

"I'm going with you. Get over it."Kyle announced, strolling out of the bathroom and heading toward the closet. Marshall winced, already regretting telling Kyle exactly what he was doing.

"I―uh..."He stammered, worrying his lip.

"What now?"Kyle sounded exasperated now as he bent over to dig for underwear. Marshall blushed and tried not to stare. Too much.

"Well...I won't, uh, be able to concentrate with you, you know, there."He finished lamely. Kyle turned around and snorted loudly, crossing his arms and leaning back on his dresser.

"Oh, I see. Do I get you all riled up?"Kyle teased, strolling over buck naked and rubbing up against him. Marshall swallowed the moan and stepped back, glaring.

"Yes. You do. Now can I go before you end up ruining my already dirty clothes?"He grumbled. Kyle laughed.

"Don't you mean before you ruin them? I'm not the one rock hard and leaking."Kyle pointed at the growing wet spot and Marshall groaned loudly, turning away as he hid the red heat creeping up his neck.

"Shut up. I'll see you...later."Marshall headed quickly to the door, accompanied by Kyle's raucous laughter.

Halfway to the door Marshall cursed.

"What's wrong now?"Kyle called. 

Why? Fuck, why didn't I just drive over here? Marshall slumped against the wall near the door, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. He's never going to let me get my work done now.

"Hello, earth to Marshall. Did you forget how to find the front door?"Kyle asked, stepping into the hallway and waving his hand in front of Marshall's face. I'd assumed you've been here enough to figure that out all by yourself.

"It's not that."Marshall griped, cracking open his eyes to glare at Kyle, who grinned.

"Don't be embarrassed now, it happens to us all. Just go straight. The door's hard to miss, it's one with a deadbolt on it.

"No, jackass. I forgot I took a cab to get here."Kyle blinked, processing the information. His lips stretched taut and he burst out laughing, gesturing toward the bedroom as he held his chest. 

"Let me get dressed and we'll carpool."He slipped back into the dim room, and Marshall sighed. 

"You don't have to do that. Really, I can just call a cab."He tried, but he knew Kyle wouldn't let him off the hook that easy.

"They take too long. I'm driving you."Apparently that was that. Marshall resigned himself to an unproductive morning and followed. 

Why was it that Kyle constantly bent over in the nude, displaying such a view for poor Marshall, who wasn't sure if he should be drooling or covering his eyes. He had to admit, the former sounded much more satisfying. Then a flash of gray caught Marshall's eye.

"You mentioned you had more tattoos. I still haven't gotten a good look at them, you know."Marshall stepped closer, reaching his hand out. Unfortunately Kyle heard him coming and turned, looking over his shoulder as he pulled up his slacks.

"I may have. Too bad you scheduled us to work almost four hours early."

"Without pay."Marshall added with irritation."And I didn't schedule you, 're just too damn stubborn to let me handle it."Kyle grinned and shucked on a white button up, donning a navy blue tie. Too soon, Kyle was fully dressed and ushering Marshall out the door.

"We have to stop at my place." Marshall sighed dejectedly. Kyle beamed. 

"Ooh, taking me home huh? Damn, I forgot my toothbrush."Marshall really didn't want Kyle to see his place. Not because he had doubts "no, he gave up denial " but because his apartment was shit compared to Kyle's pristine two bedroom-with-a-pool not so humble abode.

Like he needed more reasons to feel inadequate.

Of course the drive home took no time at all. Kyle wasn't an imbecile paying forty bucks for a cab to scan every street, and Marshall was giving him detailed directions. 

He'd know exactly how to get to Marshall's to surprise him at all hours. Marshall couldn't tell if the shivering was from anticipation or fear.

"This is where you live?"Marshall regarded the dingy apartment building with distaste and a hint of shame, so he went for sarcastic douche.

"No, I live in a building the next town over. This is a rouse so you can't follow me home tonight."Kyle smacked his shoulder. Yes, this is Crapsville."He looked over at Kyle with near nonexistent hope.

"Any chance you'll wait here while I get ready?

"And miss my chance to see where you live? I think not."Kyle parked at a meter and hopped out to feed the machine.

Of course not. Gotta go with whatever will torment me the most as usual. Marshall trudged away from the car, only sort of hoping Kyle would be too busy to follow behind. No such luck. Kyle looped an arm through Marshall's from behind and sidled up to him, bumping their hips. 

"Okay, where to?" He beamed. Seriously, how was he so damn excited? Am I really this giddy to see Kyle's place? Marshall wondered. when I first arrived at Kyle's house, I was terrified. Then again, his house is like a mini mansion.

"Elevator. Unless you like walking up seven flights of stairs." Kyle tapped his chin.

"Mm, nah. Maybe next time. We've got work to do."Marshall resisted the urge to correct e"to I" He'd begun to learn when Kyle decided something, no amount of arguing would change his mind.

At least the elevator ride wasn't painful, though Marshall blushed as he thought about the last time they had shared an elevator ride. From Kyle's grin Marshall figured he wasn't the only one reminiscing.

Thankfully six in the morning meant none of Marshall's neighbors were up to heckle Marshall's bringing a man home. Kyle would probably preen at the attention and jump into Marshall's arms demanding he be carried over the threshold like a newly wedded bride. Marshall grinned at the thought as he unlocked the door.

"What are you so chipper about?"Kyle asked, pressing his lips to Marshall's ear. Marshall shuddered, missing the keyhole and scratching the wooden door.

"Just thinking."Marshall dodged.

"About?"Kyle prompted. "With a smile that big it's got to be a juicy little tidbit."Marshall succeeded in opening the front door and ducked inside, not responding. Some thoughts were too dangerous to share with Kyle. Either he'd be offended or he'd love the idea and decide to rouse all the neighbors to make it happen right then and there. Both options were terrifying.

Unfortunately, distracting Kyle with his shitty apartment wasn't much better. He halted just inside the door, cringing. At least it wasn't messy. The ugly green couch and pathetic 18" television looked like the meager pickings of the world's worst garage sale. The tacky three-legged coffee table completed the crappy, barely furnished living room. He didn't want to even think about the threadbare kitchen.

"Uh...you can...hang out here I guess."Marshall babbled. Shit, why did Kyle have to come upstairs? Why did his place have to look so pathetic?

Marshall nearly jumped out of his skin when Kyle laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You're not going to give me a tour of your bedroom? How very rude of you." Marshall didn't comment. He reached up to touch Kyle's hand with light, slightly trembling fingers. He led the way to the bedroom, sucking in a nervous breath when he released Kyle's hand and pulled away from his touch, heading toward the closet.

"Make yourself at home, if that's even possible."He called, muttering the last part only to himself. He heard the springs of the mattress squeal and rolled his eyes, smile turning up at the edges of his mouth. Of course Kyle's attention focused on the bed.

"I'm digging this bed. Though the frame could use a little more handholds. I'm sure with a bit of rope we can fix that."Marshall laughed.

"I'm glad you're turning my bed into a bondage lover's wet dream, but I'm pretty sure your bed is plenty prepared. Let's leave my poor bed as it is, shall we?"He called, tossing his rumpled shirt and hunting down the least-wrinkled, work appropriate shirt he could find. He really needed to do some laundry...or at least buy an iron.

"It never hurts to plan ahead."Kyle replied. The bed yowled again and Marshall turned to see Kyle approaching.

"Put that down."Kyle ordered, stepping into the tiny closet, with virtually no breathing room between them. Marshall bit his lip.

"Kyle, just give me a minute to get ready."He mumbled, suddenly losing interest in his shitty apartment and the impending workload of the day. Kyle raised an eyebrow and pulled the shirt from Marshall's pliable hands. Marshall's mouth went dry and he licked his lips.

"That's what I'm trying to help with. You need to look professional you know. Now get out of the closet and let me work."Kyle grinned and Marshall gulped apprehensively. 

Why did he always turn to putty at Kyle's confident smile?

* * *

Kyle was enjoying Marshall's plight a little too much.

"Nope, nevermind. Try the gold one again."Kyle dictated. Emphasis on dick.

"Are you kidding? It looks ridiculous." Marshall glared. Kyle shrugged and folded his arms across his chest.

"And?"

"Come on, Kyle. I'm not wearing that."Marshall threw the stupid gold tie to the ground. "The only reason I own it is because my Nana is blind and decided I needed new ties for work."Kyle's eyes lit up.

"Do I have to withhold sex over a tie?"He asked, cocking an eyebrow."Besides, think of how happy it would make your Nana. Maybe we'll send her a picture of you wearing it, I bet it'll make her year.

"Did I mention she's blind? She won't be able to see it."But Kyle's guilt trip was working on him. Marshall decided he'd go visit her sometime that weekend. Staring at the ugly tie, he bit his lip. I'm only considering it for Nana, swore. Not because of sex. He sighed.

Okay, so it's kind of about the sex. But mostly about Nana!

"Fine. I'll wear the damn thing."Marshall picked up the poor, abused tie, refusing to look up at Kyle. "For Nana."He added unnecessarily. 

"Uh huh." Damn that Kyle. Must he always be so patronizing? Marshall didn't reply, instead he popped the collar of his shirt and slipped the gold tie around his neck. As he tightened the slip of cloth he imagined he was donning a noose. 

Why the hell did he turn into a corporate monkey again? Oh yeah, because he didn't have any skills.

Kyle suddenly appeared in front of him, straightening the tie and buttoning up his suit jacket. Marshall had the perfect view of those hazel eyes, green flecks glinting, almost hidden in the dark brown depths of Kyle's irises. Maybe he didn't need to resign himself to the gallows just yet.

"Ready Marshall?"Marshall shook his head, blinking up into Kyle's amused gaze.

"I was ready before."He complained. I tied it just fine, you're just anal."Kyle's lips twitched. 

"I'm going to let that one go. You make mocking so easy it's not even fun anymore."Kyle's hand tightened around his lapel and he leaned in close."Back to my original point. Do you consider my ability to straighten ties sexy?"Marshall's eyebrows furrowed.

"No, and your assumption that you're some kind of sex god during every banal activity you perform isn't as alluring as you think it is."Kyle chuckled.

"I wasn't looking for an ego boost, idiot."He patted Marshall's shoulder and stepped back. Your dick was jabbing my leg the entire time I was fixing your tie."Marshall blanched, dropping his hands to cover his groin which was, indeed, hard as a rock. 

"Dammit!"He groaned, turning away. What was with Kyle and his innate ability to turn Marshall into a horny teenager? Kyle laughed and grabbed Marshall's arm, dragging him around until their eyes met.

"Would you calm down? I don't care how many times you pop a boner on my leg. I take it as a compliment."Kyle winked. I know my rugged good looks are hard to resist."Marshall rolled his eyes, but a smile grew on his face.

"You're so full of yourself. What makes you think I was getting excited for you?"Marshall questioned. "Maybe I was thinking about something else."Kyle shook his head, badly hiding a smirk.

"Oh really. Pray tell, what were you thinking about?"Clearly Marshall should have thought his plan out a little better. His mouth opened but no words came out. He'd been thinking about Kyle's eyes, but he couldn't say that, not without being teased for acting like a girl. His face lit up, neck flushed red.

"Well, not you that's for sure."He muttered, unable to think up an excuse. "Whatever, let's go or we're not going to have time to get our work done."Marshall stepped around Kyle and snagged his shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull them on. 

"You know what, you're right. That tie looks ridiculous. Shall I grab the green one instead?"Marshall shot Kyle a glare and went to work lacing his dress shoes up. 

"Too damn bad, I'm already wearing this one."He snapped, standing. "We've got too much to do rather than look for the ugliest tie to irritate me with."He flicked the light off and exited the bedroom, grabbing his keys and waiting by the front door.

"Hurry up."He called. Kyle followed behind slowly, standing just inside the apartment.

"You really want to work that badly?"Kyle asked.

"No, but I don't want to get fired either."He replied. Kyle tilted his head and pursed his lips.

"Why don't you find a better job? You're not exactly sticking around for the pay, we make jack shit."Marshall shrugged.

"It's a job and I need the money. And I don't exactly have useful skills. Or a degree. At least I make more than a waiter."He responded. Marshall waved his hand, ushering Kyle out. Now will you hurry it up?"Kyle threw up his hands in surrender and stepped over the threshold. Marshall quickly locked up and they headed to the elevator.

"I don't know how you stand working there. I despised it on day one."Kyle exclaimed conversationally. Their shoulders brushed together and Marshall shivered visibly.

"It's not so bad. A bit tedious, but I'm good at my job and that's enough for me. Crappy apartment and all."Kyle smiled wistfully.

"The only thing I'll miss is groping you in the break room."Kyle teased. 

"You don't grope me enough outside of work?"Marshall replied dryly. "Hey, you mentioned putting in your two weeks. When did you do that?" Marshall asked. The elevator dinged and they headed for the door of the lobby.

"Yeah, technically it was a month notice. I gave my resignation offer that first night together, I just asked to stick around until after our project ended. I thought it would be a bit immature to quit and leave you scrambling to get things done.

"So you quit because of..."Marshall winced at the realization. Kyle nudged his shoulder.

"It was more than that. The purpose of this job was to get into character. With you around I no longer focused on my act. Once I lost focus, this job was only wasting my time. Even if you had begged for more, I would have quit."Kyle explained. 

"Shit, I hope I didn't screw everything up for you too much."Marshall apologized, though Kyle brushed off his words with a flip of his fingers.

"I accomplished the experiment, if a little earlier than anticipated. Didn't I just say I would have quit either way?"Kyle reached down to lace their fingers together. "Stop freaking. I consider you my unexpected bonus for being such an amazing actor."Kyle winked.

"Ever humble, aren't you?"Marshall quipped.

"Always."Kyle laughed. Marshall followed Kyle to his car and got in without comment. He didn't feel like taking his own car, sue him.

Driving to work wasn't as painful as he'd expected. Sure, he already had doubts about what he'd done the night before, but by that point he couldn't deny reality any longer. Kyle's hand on his leg kind of made that point clear. Then again, so did Marshall's hand on top of Kyle's lacing their fingers together. 




Office Confrontations Ch. 04



He was gay. For Kyle. Very, very, gay. And apparently a bottom. He did not like remembering Kyle explaining the term last night, with an obnoxiously smug grin, that Marshall was now his bitch. Marshall knew he was just joking to torment him, but that was besides the point.

He really wanted Kyle. And...he hadn't thought about the situation fully until now. Were they dating? A casual fling? A quick fuck? Dammit, already the questions were blotting out all thought. He really hoped Kyle could concentrate better, since he'd most likely be no help whatsoever...

"Marshall, wake up."Kyle's voice startled him, and Marshall tightened his hand on Kyle's, eyes searching around frantically. "Relax, I was just going to tell you we're here."Kyle gave him a smile and disappeared out the door. 

When he started tapping on the window impatiently, Marshall decided Kyle was never allowed to carpool with him again. Marshall huffed and opened the door, and they made their way through the building toward their usual suite.

The trip didn't take long, but having Kyle beside him made everything more tense, even the accidental brush of their fingers sent spikes of cold down his spine, reminding him just where he spent the night, and exactly what he'd rather be doing compared to working. Of course, Kyle liked to remind him constantly. 

He'd reverted to introverted freak through the hallway, ducking his head and hiding behind Marshall's shoulder, even though there wasn't a single other person in the building. And he certainly just had to grope Marshall's ass as he stepped into the suite.

"Dammit Kyle! Just one day. One day without you violating me would be nice."Marshall commented. Kyle tipped up his chin and grinned. You are such an attention whore, I swear."Marshall smirked, slipping into the seat on the far corner.

Kyle failed at suppressing a grin, pulling up a seat dangerously close to Marshall as he did.

"Fuck off and hand me my briefcase."Kyle demanded in that tone he used when he wanted to get his way. Marshall fought a grin himself and silently pushed it over. He enjoyed the view he got of Kyle stretching forward to grab his property, and blushed when Kyle caught him in the act.

"Take your fill now, we've got work to do."Kyle grinned and went straight to work. Marshall stared for a second longer before clicking his own briefcase open and digging out the enormous stack of papers he had to rush through.

Out of nowhere he felt Kyle's hand graze up his thigh. He jumped and let out a faintly girlish yelp. Kyle chuckled.

"Hey! Keep your hands off me, how the hell am I supposed to do my work if you're molesting me all the time?"He glared. Kyle squeezed his leg roughly before letting go and going back to work.

But every once in a while Kyle would do it again, and after the fourth squeeze Marshall realized Kyle was trying to keep him aroused. He huffed loudly and scooted his chair away. Kyle rolled his eyes.

"Geez, and here I was trying to make your work more enjoyable."Marshall ignored the comment and went back to reading the same sentence a sixth time. Today was going to be damn impossible to get through.

* * *

"Fuck, there's no way we're finishing all of this in two hours.' Marshall groaned, staring at the daunting stack. Kyle waved his hand dismissively.

"We'll get it done."Kyle responded, unperturbed by Marshall's outburst or the never ending stack of paperwork. Already Kyle was on his third file.

"How the hell do you work so quickly?"Marshall wondered aloud. Kyle smirked.

"I don't stop to ask a thousand questions. Or stare at you incessantly, for that matter."Marshall looked away.

Fair point. He admitted to himself, though he wouldn't dare say so out loud. Marshall distracted himself by going back to work. Unfortunately every time he looked up Kyle was grinning broadly at him. Somehow Kyle's stack dwindled twice as fast as Marshall's, and when they had no more than half an hour left, Kyle had finished the stack and started on Marshall's half.

With Kyle's help they managed to finish with five minutes to spare. 

"Thanks."Marshall begrudgingly admitted. Kyle had the gall to take a bow.

"Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week."Kyle joked. 

"Oh shut up."Marshall chuckled. I guess we better get started on today's work."Marshall sighed, though Kyle stood up abruptly, placing his hand on Marshall's arm. 

"No, I think we deserve a coffee break. Come on."Marshall groaned. 

"Kyle, we have enough to do without wasting more time."Marshall complained.

"It'll be fine. Besides, I'm dying of thirst."Kyle pulled him harder and Marshall stood with a good bout of negative commentary. Kyle opened the door and ushered Marshall out, following behind. When Marshall reached the break room he was glad, he actually was starving. And coffee sounded pretty damn good too, stale or otherwise. 

"Want me to pour you a cup?"Marshall asked over his shoulder, grabbing a pair of mugs.

"Um, y-yes pl-please."The weak response had Marshall turning on his heel. 

"Kyle would you stop--" Marshall came up short as he caught sight of Aaron, who instantly engulfed him in a hug. 

"It's been forever Marsh! Still yelling at poor Kyle I see." Marshall groaned inwardly. Aaron finally released him and turned to look at Kyle.

"I hope he's not making too much of an ass of himself."Kyle's face flared red and he backed up against the wall. 

"N-n-no, he-he's b-b-b--"Kyle winced and ducked his eyes, shrinking in on himself. Aaron laughed.

"Relax, kid. Marshall is all bark, no bite."Aaron slapped Kyle's arm roughly and Kyle gasped. Marshall's eyes narrowed.

"Aaron, do you need anything in particular? We have work to do, you know."Marshall gestured toward Kyle, who cringed against the door again and turned away. Aaron frowned, eyebrows furrowing as he stared at Marshall.

"Just wanted to catch up. Maybe another time."He shrugged. I'll give you a call. See you, Ky. Try not to hurt yourself."Aaron shoved him lightly on the arm and Marshall gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to yell. Marshall reached over to grab Kyle's hand, squeezing it. Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"You know I'm not really intimidated by that tool, right?" Kyle asked. Marshall dropped his eyes and let Kyle go.

"I know."He grunted, heading back to the coffee pot. He poured two cups, appetite lost, and turned on his heel.

"Let's go."He grumped. Kyle squeezed his ass as he walked away and Marshall yelped, jumping in surprise. Luckily he didn't slop coffee down himself, though he was close. Kyle had gone back to pathetic nerd by the time Marshall turned around, but Marshall was sure he heard Kyle chuckle.

Damn him. Every time. He has to grope me every time we're at work!

* * *

The day went by slow, much too slow for Marshall's taste. Of course, Kyle made it particularly excruciating by not only working more than twice as fast, but also hindering Marshall every couple of minutes with violations and double entendres(Marshall could never figure out if Kyle meant them or not). How he possibly kept his erection the entire day could be explained by Kyle's mere presence. 

And oh goodie, Kyle was also driving Marshall home. In reality, he liked having Kyle around. But that didn't necessarily mean Kyle needed to know that. 

"So, back to my place?"Kyle asked out of the blue as they drove down the rain-saturated asphalt. Marshall's head whipped around. I know how much you enjoyed it last night."Kyle winked, turning his attention back to the road. Marshall's mouth opened but he couldn't utter a word, though his mind screamed 'Yes, yes, dear god yes!' stamped out his thoughts and squeezed his eyes shut, looking away.

"I―I don't have clothes for tomorrow."He mumbled. He didn't want to look completely , though with his cock hard as a rock against his leg, keeping his head seemed pointless. Kyle laughed.

"I was just kidding. You really are easily flustered."Marshall tried not to look disappointed. He kept his eyes on the streets they drove through. Surprisingly, they were already halfway to Marshall's.

Marshall realized Kyle hadn't planned to bring him home no matter what he'd replied with. That bothered him, much to his chagrin. The rest of the drive passed in silence, and soon Kyle pulled up to the apartment building. 

"See you tomorrow."Kyle patted his leg and waited expectantly. Marshall hesitated, hand on the door handle.

"Want to come up for a bit?"Marshall asked. He instantly regretted the offer.

Stupid, so stupid! He just teased me about coming over, he obviously doesn't want to deal with me any longer. Marshall berated himself silently. He tensed, preparing for rejection. From a man. God, what is wrong with me? I need to stop acting like such a damn girl!

"Sure." Kyle's response shocked Marshall into silence. "I assumed you wanted a bit of time to yourself." Marshall shook his head.

"No, I mean...I, I don't know, enjoy your company. Or whatever."Marshall waved his hands in exasperation. Kyle smirked but said nothing about Marshall's word malfunction. 

"I guess I better park somewhere. Don't want to get towed."Marshall nodded and kept his eyes averted.

Shit, how am I supposed to entertain him now? My place is shit and I don't even have booze! Marshall continued to mentally kick himself all the way up the elevator to the door, and the long tense moment when Marshall dropped the keys at the door and Kyle picked them up, opening the door himself.

"Where do you want these?"Kyle shook the key chain before Marshall's face. Marshall mutely pointed toward the kitchen counter. He turned his back to lock up, taking a steadying breath.

"Are you going to wear those clothes all night?"Kyle asked, making Marshall jump and turn around, panicked. 

"What?"Marshall yelped, clearing his throat when his voice cracked like a prepubescent teen.

"Your work clothes? They can't be comfortable."Kyle clarified."Aren't you going to put on something less corporate monkey?"Kyle's eyebrow shot up at Marshall's look of understanding. His quirked lip felt patronizing, and Marshall fought a blush under Kyle's gaze.

"Oh,"Marshall breathed, I though you meant―yeah, be right back."Marshall took off for the bedroom, pretending he didn't hear Kyle's laughter as he closed the door.

Marshall collapsed against the door, taking another deep, shaky breath. What was he thinking? Kyle was sitting on his crappy couch in his crappy apartment expecting Marshall to be engaging and interesting. How the hell was he going to pull that off?

Not by hiding out in the bedroom like a coward, he reminded himself with disgust. He quickly unbuttoned his jacket and shirt, tossing the fabric toward the laundry basket in the corner and worked to unbuckle his belt as he headed to the closet.

Marshall refused to fret over clothes like a girl, so he threw on the first t-shirt he could find, which turned out to be an awful, tattered Tony the Tiger shirt he'd won five years ago with a frayed hem and a torn neckline. He cringed and considered pulling it off, but refused, reminding himself that he wasn't trying to dress up for Kyle. A pair of faded, low-slung jeans completed his broke-ass loser grunge look. 

Marshall finally braved the living room, where Kyle relaxed on the couch with his feet up, jacket hung neatly on the edge of the coffee table, white button up halfway undone and sleeves loosely rolled up to his elbows. The tie was tossed over the jacket and Marshall gulped as he stared at Kyle's smooth chest peeking from beneath the clean white shirt.

How the hell does he look so god damned perfect all the time? Marshall gaped. Kyle looked up at him with that lazy grin.

Marshall couldn't remember what he was going to say or do. He just stared, blinking slowly. Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"I see you've made yourself comfortable."He quipped. Marshall found his tongue "stuck to the roof of his dry mouth. 

"You too."Witless but at least not speechless.

"I figured you'd approve of the casual look."Marshall scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Oh yes, please grace me with your perfectly toned pecs."Kyle laughed and sat up, and Marshall struggled not to stare.

"Are you going to join me or what?"Kyle asked, scooting over and patting the worn green cushion. 

"No."Marshall shook his head. He covered his amusement at Kyle's confused expression and held out his hand. 

"Come on. We're going."Kyle reached for his hand and Marshall pulled him to his feet.

"We just got here, what could we possibly have to do?"Marshall ignored him and led him out the door, pausing only to grab his keys and lock up.

"This isn't very hospitable of you, inviting me upstairs and not even letting me get to first base." Kyle mock complained, slinging his arm around Marshall's waist, who scoffed loudly at the comment.

"Forcing you to hang around my shitty apartment isn't very hospitable."They stepped into the elevator and Marshall pushed the button absentmindedly. He looked over at Kyle, looking so sexily disheveled with his hair raked back from his face, and gulped.

Just do it. He ordered himself. He leaned forward and kissed Kyle gingerly, a soft peck of the lips. When he pulled back he turned his face away.

"There. First base, happy?"Marshall retorted. Kyle responded by grabbing Marshall's face and capturing his parted lips with a very forward tongue. Marshall's hands instinctively rushed to Kyle's hair, tangling in the mass of loose curls and dragging his lips impossibly closer.

The elevator chimed and an angry sounding woman coughed loudly. Blushing fiercely, Marshall pulled away and met the stare of a terrifying matron and two dewy-eyed kids.

"Sorry."Marshall apologized. He towed Kyle behind him as he escaped the elevator for the lobby. The woman harrumphed at their departure.

Kyle squeezed their fingers together and tugged, demanding Marshall's attention as they disappeared through the entrance door.

"Why are you apologizing?"Marshall licked his lips and looked away, toward the sidewalk.

"She seemed upset, and we were making a scene. I do recall you fondling something pretty inappropriate for underage viewers."Kyle snorted.

"And? We're grown men exercising our right to heavy petting in empty elevators."Kyle jabbed him in the ribs. 

"Alright. I'll stop apologizing for your very unconventional ability to scar little children.

"Ha ha. Very funny. You started it that time."Marshall had no snappy comeback prepared for that slice of truth. Marshall brusquely gripped Kyle's hand and dragged him down the street rather than commenting. 

"Marshall where are you dragging me off to?"Kyle demanded. 

"For a walk, unless the uppity actor has a problem with using his legs."

"Does this walk have a particular destination?"Kyle sped up, gripping Marshall's hand tight, and walking beside him instead of being towed behind.

"Yeah."Marshall responded curtly.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Fuck Marshall, just answer the damn question."Kyle snapped. 

"I thought you liked surprises."Marshall grinned.

"This isn't a surprise, it's an arduous trek in the drizzling rain with a psychotic man taking the lead."Marshall laughed and slowed as they approached their destination.

"You're a bit of an anal nut-bag aren't you?"Marshall looked at Kyle with a wicked grin."And a bit hypocritical, coming from the seemingly schizophrenic actor boy."Kyle laughed quietly.

"Touche."Kyle sighed. "Fine, you're not a complete psycho. Now where are we going?"Marshall pointed to the dingy building in front of them.

"Since I don't have booze of my own, I figured you might enjoy a drink, and maybe get to know each other a little better since we're..."He motioned between them, unsure how to describe it.

"Gay lovers? Butt buddies? Fuck friends?"Kyle supplied. Marshall cringed and slapped his free hand over Kyle's mouth, who subsequently opened his mouth and slobbered everywhere.

"Fuck!"Marshall yelled. "Very mature."He grumbled.

"I try."Kyle smirked. Now, shall we?"

Finding a decent spot in the grubby bar proved surprisingly easy. Marshall picked out a corner booth and plopped down, and a lovely blonde appeared to take their order. She was quick, and thankfully didn't stare at them like a freak show. Not that they were but...well, Marshall still didn't know what to do with himself every time Kyle grabbed his hand and sat in his lap in public. He wasn't even sure what Kyle wanted from him for that matter.

Marshall played with his ice water and glanced over at Kyle.

 "Hey Kyle?" Marshall coughed to clear his throat. Kyle looked up from his lager with interest.

"How much of this is fake?"He asked. Kyle raised an eyebrow. "The act at work."He elucidated. Kyle shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

"Most of it."Kyle replied. He lifted the glasses from his face and slipped them into a case from his pocket. "These, for instance. Just a prop. The stutter, obviously.

"Your friendship with Clara?"Marshall prompted. He had wondered since that day in the cafe just how honest Kyle was with her. Kyle paused, swirling the bottle in his grip.

"That's complicated."He responded vaguely. 

"How much does she know?"He tried again, nonchalantly sipping his water as he watched Kyle over the rim of the glass.

"Nothing."Kyle's one word answer surprised Marshall. He'd assumed she knew something, the way she spoke to him seemed more like close friends than a random girl at work.

"Are you really even her friend? Did it bother you at all making her cry the way you did or was she just a pawn in your game?"Kyle's eyes narrowed dangerously. 

"Of course I care. Do you honestly think I'm such an awful person that I'd disregard her feelings so easily?"

"Then why continue lying to her?"He pushed. "Why not tell her the truth."Kyle turned away, glaring at the empty bar, and exhaled sharply. Marshall said nothing further and soon Kyle's eyes closed and he stopped choking the neck of the beer bottle, setting it down blindly onto the table.

"And admit everything about me is a lie?"He asked quietly."Besides, my last day isn't for another week. I can't keep slipping up."He took a long drought of liquor and rolled his shoulders.

"It's better for everyone if I just cut ties and get out of her life.

"She really cares about you."Marshall muttered, reaching over to take Kyle's hand. Kyle flipped his hand over, palm up, and laced their fingers together, rubbing Marshall's wrist with his thumb.

"I know. That's why I can't tell her. It'll only make things worse."Marshall wasn't convinced, no matter how much Kyle seemed to be.

"I'm sure she'll understand."Kyle laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head and looking away, toward the nearest window to his right. 

"Yeah, right."Hearing such honest words in such a resigned tone surprised Marshall. He really did have feelings for Clara "platonic ones, otherwise Marshall sure as hell wouldn't be advocating their continued relationship.

"You never know until you try."Marshall pointed out, though he knew it was virtually useless.

"I think it's time for a subject change."Kyle turned back to Marshall and fixed him with his steely gaze. Marshall sighed, but there was nothing he could do to change Kyle's mind.

"Fine. Can I keep asking questions?"He tried. Kyle continued to stare for another moment before he relented. 

"Alright. But nothing about Clara, got it?"Marshall nodded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Marshall bit his lip, considering. What to ask, what to ask...Marshall's eyes drifted down, studying Kyle(and ignoring Kyle's bemused look and the quirked eyebrow meaning there were either dirty things running through his mind...or dangerous things) before finding himself fixating on Kyle's hands.




Office Confrontations Ch. 04



"Is there a reason you always hide those?"Marshall pointed at Kyle's covered wrists, where the red tattoos lay waiting. Kyle's silence and proceeding blank stare made Marshall smirk. Looks like Kyle wasn't the only one with the ability to render people speechless.

Then again, all Kyle had to do was take off his clothes.

"You mean my tattoos?"He lifted a wrist and held it palm up, staring at the slight red edging his sleeve. His eyes flicked to Marshall. "That's what you want to ask me about?

"You said anything not involving Clara. Your tattoos are interesting, but confusing too."Marshall tentatively reached out, pausing and looking up at Kyle nervously before gripping his arm with loose fingers, pushing up the sleeve. He traced the red curves and black paths with a faint smile.

"They're amazing. But you're always covering them up. At work, when we grab food..."He looked up to find Kyle's gaze again."Are you embarrassed by them, or do you just not like them?

"None of the above."Kyle tossed his head, throwing the hair falling into his eyes over his shoulder, and turned his hand to take Marshall's. "They didn't fit the character of computer geek. I hid them to disappear and become someone else. The nerdy, four-eyed, stuttering Kyle doesn't have tattoos, would be terrified of them."He tipped his head, eyes losing focus as he thought.

"Do you always create characters of yourself when you're working on a production?"Marshall questioned, squeezing Kyle's hand.

"Usually, though this is the first time I've tried something so extensive to keep in character. This play isn't all that huge, so I figured I could explore the character and make my own quirks without ruining the entire play "or getting replaced for someone with less of a brain and more of a 'monkey see monkey do' attitude."Kyle shrugged, pulling back his hand. Marshall hesitated before pulling back himself, resting his hands uselessly on his lap. There they fidgeted, rubbing, scratching, flexing. When did he get so needy that he craved Kyle's touch?

"What else have you played?"Marshall couldn't stop the flow of questions. Finally, a peek into the inner workings of the mysterious actor boy-slash-boyfriend!

"Hmm. I did a stint with Chicago, more of a backup dancer and an understudy than anything. Roger in Rent, though it wasn't the huge Broadway spectacle, and I had to bleach my hair blond "and I do not look all that great blond "and a few other plays here and there."Kyle shrugged. "Too many were either silent parts or cookie-cutter bad guy parts. I've lived through too many death scenes to count."Kyle smiled wryly. "Roger was my first real character, less trigger happy, more relate-able."Kyle's eyes dimmed, and he stared toward the window, thoughts swirling so fast Marshall could almost see him sifting through his life in quick glimpses.

"As much as I loved the big production and the infamy, the praise...I wanted a character more outside the box, one that really felt like I was doing something more than posing and glaring. I guess that's why this project was such a big deal. If I can make it here, if I can become a character completely unlike myself seamlessly...maybe I have more of a future in this than pirouettes in the background."Marshall wanted to reach out again, but resisted. Kyle had always been so confident, so put together. Always in control. After the big career reveal, Marshall couldn't even imagine how Kyle found the ability to play his shy persona, much less take on the personality full time. 

Unfortunately, the problem with actors was they made it difficult to know what's real and what's fiction. Should Marshall try to comfort or reassure him? Would he just grin back cheekily and roll his eyes, saying no shit Sherlock? Or would he break down and cry?

Who was Kyle, really, and would Marshall ever know the truth?

"How am I supposed to know who you are when you can't seem to find yourself through all the characters?"Marshall asked aloud, not really thinking until Kyle's eyes clouded over and he turned away.

"I never said I didn't know who I am."His jaw tightened and Marshall could see the tension in the lines of his face. Marshall sighed. Damn, he really did need to learn to think before he spoke.

"How could I tell if you do or don't? You're an actor for Christ's sake. All you do is hide behind a mask."Marshall needed to stop speaking. Immediately.

"I already told you, I'm not hiding. I'm not fake, it's just a character."Kyle's voice dropped, carefully controlled and revealing nothing, but Marshall could still see the tension in his shoulders, and the way his neck flexed from his clenched teeth.

"Then why are you falling into that stupid emotionless thing you do?"Marshall demanded, suddenly angry at the return of the blank mask. "Do you really think I can trust you when you can just turn everything off at the blink of an eye? All the time you change, like the flip of a switch, and you're someone else. Which Kyle am I dating? Who am I going to bed with practically every night?"Marshall's face heated at the admission in such a public place, and so loud, but he ignored the feeling and fixated on Kyle's face, his blank mask.

The mask it seemed he never took off. Kyle glared at him, but his face was still tightly controlled, eyes the only part of him revealing the conflicting thoughts inside.

"If you can't handle all of me, then don't try being with just one side."He pushed his chair back roughly and stood. "They may be characters but that doesn't mean they're not still a part of me in some way."

"I don't care about the different characters, or any of that shit. I just don't understand why you shut me out when things become difficult."Marshall stood with him, closing the distance by circling the table and grabbing Kyle's arm. Kyle started to resist, pulling, but it was a weak effort with no real force behind it.

"I'm not..."Kyle sighed, dropping all pretense of escaping and turning to face Marshall. If I were shutting you out I wouldn't be here."He stared seriously into Marshall's eyes, who didn't know what to say or how to act. He hadn't expected to broach another hot spot. And all this from an offhanded comment about tattoos.

"Do you always go for every touchy subject or is your mouth just so disconnected from your brain you can't comprehend the stupidity of your questions?"Kyle asked. Instead of arguing or pushing again, Marshall laughed quietly, letting Kyle go. He sighed and sank back into his chair. He wasn't looking for a fight. He hadn't been trying, and he really did to get his mouth a filter.

"Can we just assume it's the ladder and forget the entire conversation?"Marshall asked, gesturing for Kyle to sit down and hoping he actually acquiesced. After a few moments' hesitation, Kyle did end up sitting. He shook his head, mouth upturned in a humorless smile.

"How about we make a rule that you're no longer allowed to ask questions and I'm no longer allowed to listen to you babble?"Marshall rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, that's not a biased deal, not at all."He scoffed, small smile stretching his lips. I'll try for easier subjects next time.

"Like the weather and stock trades?"Kyle supplied. Marshall kicked his shin under the table.

"No, asshole, like when's the opening show, or do I need to bring roses or lilies to give you as a bouquet?"This time Kyle kicked him back, but he laughed in amusement.

"Lilies are for funerals, so avoid those. And don't get those shitty cheap roses at Walmart, get them from a real florist. They'll last longer."Marshall smiled and leaned forward, grabbing Kyle's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Kyle allowed it for only a second before pulling back and smacking Marshall's hand away.

"Only I get to start public affections, and besides that was much too pg. We should go for groping or public indecency."Marshall laughed outright and caught Kyle's hand, holding it firm. At least Kyle didn't pull away.

"You mentioned earlier..."Marshall started. Kyle sighed and tried to let go. Marshall tightened his hold.

"What did I mention earlier?"He asked, voice laced with irritation. Marshall ignored the tone and smirked.

"You dance?"His eyes lit up and the smile widened. "Like...ballerina, Swan Lake dancing?"Marshall couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Kyle in a blush colored leotard. Kyle's face lightened considerably and he dug his nails into Marshall's palm.

"Yes I dance, no I'm not a ballerina, and it takes a lot more work than you're implying."He retorted smartly.

"Oh really? Do you have to bring your own tutu or do they supply a one size fits all stock there?"Kyle smacked his hand and pulled away, folding his arms across his chest, but his face still shone with amusement.

"I don't wear tutus, I wear sweats. Stop imagining me in skirts or I'll put you in one."He smirked. "Keep mocking me and I'll have to teach you a lesson."

"Oh, I'm so scared."Marshall winked, hoping he would get punished.

Preferably in the bedroom.

Kyle's expression promised retribution, and Marshall's heart crashed against his sternum. Who knew he'd get so nervous and excited by a single look?

"I swear, I've never met a man so eager to be abused."Kyle grinned, sipping his liquor with lidded eyes. It's like you actually want to see how far I'll go."Kyle muttered around the bottle, and Marshall dropped his eyes to the table, swirling the ice in his glass with shaking hands. 

"Maybe I do."He replied quietly. And his words rang true. After their kinky spank fest, Kyle had yet to really get to the physical part of their relationship "or whatever the hell their tryst was considered. In fact, the most they ended up doing was some inappropriate groping in the elevators and some heavy make-out sessions in Kyle's car before being dropped off.

Marshall had never felt so built up with need, and that was coming from a man who went through most of college without more than two hook-ups and one three month long relationship. Not that he made it out with a degree, mind you. Rather, he dropped out Junior year after changing majors six times and wasting a good fifty grand on school tuition. 

Partially the reason behind his lack of money―and lack of higher paying career offers.

Kyle didn't speak, merely watched him, eyes searching Marshall's. Marshall, for his part, blushed every time he looked up, hoping Kyle's attention would be somewhere else and always finding himself the center of attention.

"Wh-whatever. Nevermind."Marshall waved offhandedly and looked for the waitress, attempting to flag her down. Maybe an impartial party could change the subject―but could he really afford twelve dollar nachos just for the distraction?

"Marshall."He looked back at Kyle instinctively, and instantly regretted it. Kyle looked serious, which wasn't a usual look, and that automatically put Marshall on edge. I don't understand you sometimes."He sighed, setting the beer down and folding his hands on the edge of the table.

"You come at me with this 'holy shit I can't do this gay thing' for weeks, and now you're asking me to throw down all my kink on the table for you to see?"He asked, nibbling his lip. "Do you actually want this or are you trying to be tough and pretend you don't care what I do because you're a 'man'?"He asked, eyes never leaving Marshall's, who gulped audibly and felt thankful for the dim lighting covering his reddened face.

"It's not―I'm not pretending, I just..."Marshall sighed and gripped his knees hard enough to draw blood, digging in his nails to avoid hitting things―or trying to drag Kyle onto the table for a way too public make-out scene. I don't know what this is. I don't know what you expect from me, either."Both legs quickly grew numb from his death grip, but he couldn't let go without feeling as if he was letting go of his sanity too.

"I don't know how to act. I told you before, I've never been―interested in a man, and I meant it. But more than that it's not like I've been hooking up every weekend with random chicks either. I didn't do relationships before all of this started, and hell, I'm not even sure if this is what dating looks like."He raked his hands through his hair, unable to feel his thighs other than the painful pinpricks of blood rushing back to his veins, before quickly returning his nails into the crescent-shaped indents in his thighs. "So forgive me if I sound stupid but I have no fucking clue what I should do next, if I'm supposed to put out after our first date "not that this is a date, you know what I mean."Marshall groaned.

"I give up. Just tell me what I'm supposed to do here. Please, I'm completely at a loss."Marshall pleaded, eyes locked with Kyle's and trying not to flinch away from that damned blank mask, which just had to make its appearance again at any sign of meaningful conversation.

"You expect me to walk you through a gay relationship―in the middle of a shit bar with at least a dozen patrons loitering around us?"Kyle asked, surprising Marshall―especially with the still very intact expression of carefully controlled emotions on his face. He leaned forward, hands still folded over themselves on the bare, unvarnished table beneath. You can barely hold my hand in front of Clara without panicking and trying to pull away."

Marshall groaned and thumped his hands onto the table, no longer able to keep them clenched to his jeans. "What the hell do you expect me to do Kyle? I can't help it. I avoided an actual relationship with a woman for this exact reason." He glared, snatching up his water and gulping just to give his mouth something to do rather than spout out dangerous comments. Kyle exhaled slowly, his knuckles tight with tension though the rest of his form looked particularly indifferent.

"I don't expect anything from you, and that's the problem."Kyle admitted. "This isn't easy for me either. I don't like having to walk around with a paranoid homophobic prick glaring at everyone that walks within fifty feet of us.

"I'm trying!"Marshall half rose in his seat. He took a sharp breath and slowly sat, trying to ignore the stares of confusion around them thanks to his particularly loud outburst. I'm trying to do this, dammit. But every time I really try you slam up a wall or you stare at me like I'm an idiot.

"You are an idiot."Kyle pointed out, and Marshall flipped him off with a grunt.

"Clever."Marshall snapped. "This is exactly my point. I want to try, but you have to throw me a bone, dammit. I don't expect you to take my hand and show me the world, but giving me a break once in a while would be appreciated."

"Give you a break? Like ignoring the fact that you want me to stay in the closet with you? Or welcoming you into my home even when you're twitching and searching the walls for chains and torture devices?"Kyle growled back, sloshing his lager in his haste to shove it out of the way. I give you break after break; I have yet to punch you in the face for insulting me every time I turn around.

"I keep telling you I'm trying. So I'm nervous in the bedroom, I just tried to show you I was willing to give anything you've got a shot."He retorted. Kyle tensed, and Marshall gulped, assuming he hit another damn sensitive spot. Did he need a filter or did Kyle need to see a therapist about mood swings?

"You'd do anything just to prove you're 'trying'."Kyle stated matter-of-factly, rather than in the form of a question. But Marshall nodded anyway, jaw tight with tension and head tilted just enough that he didn't have to look Kyle directly in the eye. "So if I said let's go back to your place and I'll show you my kinky surprises you'd just automatically agree and follow me out.

Marshall pointedly stood up. After a second's hesitation, obvious in the nervous flick in his eyes as he looked at Kyle and the room, he held out his hand. Kyle stared at the outstretched appendage for a full thirty seconds, unblinking, before sighing in resignation and taking it. His grip felt firm and his hands, surprisingly gentle on occasion, held on and twisted their fingers together, squeezing. 

"Fine. But the second you insult me or pull away I walk."Kyle grunted. Marshall glared.

"Seriously, after all this you want to walk away because I'm a bit skittish in the sack? If that were true for everyone I'd still be a virgin."Marshall muttered in exasperation, rolling his eyes. Kyle snorted loudly.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you still are."Marshall dug his nails into Kyle's hand and practically dragged him out the door of the seedy bar, though he knew Kyle allowed it because damn he was one strong fucker. He led the way with a sure gait, though his heart thumped apprehensively and he was breathing much heavier than the short walk should have instigated. Kyle, as always, handled uncertain situations with silence and a steady, narrow stare straight ahead, without a single word to make him feel better.   

As they stopped at a main street waiting for the light to change, Marshall stepped closer to Kyle and ducked his head, twisting Kyle's hand closer in his palm and pressing it against his side. Kyle looked up with a question in his eyes and Marshall shrugged, nodding his head toward the gaggle of University students gabbing and tittering like a bunch of noisy pigeons begging for crumbs. 

The group hardly noticed them, but Marshall didn't care if they didn't have the center of attention. He wanted to prove to Kyle – to himself – that he was more than just a pathetic man unable to grow a pair and do what he'd been craving for hours. He leaned over and kissed Kyle firmly on the lips, his own mouth still a bit unyielding from nervousness, though he tried to ignore it as he breathed in the scent of alcohol and coconut shampoo, and the slight scratching on his chin where their faces touched and Kyle's less than perfectly manicured facial fur started to prickle. Marshall smirked into the kiss, parting his lips slowly. Had Kyle been so busy rushing to Marshall's house to be the carpooling king that he'd started to put off important things like personal hygiene and shaving? 

How interesting.

Marshall's lips morphed around Kyle's, and his free hand found the small of Kyle's back, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Kyle sighed and pulled back, looking up at him with amusement and a hint of smugness. 

"We missed the red light, idiot."Marshall grinned when he looked up and saw the students halfway down the block. 

"So? I was enjoying myself."Marshall's mouth widened and he crushed his lips to Kyle's again, pulling him closer with a hand to his neck. Kyle smacked his side and pulled away, though his other hand was still wound tight with Marshall's.

"Come on moron, we'll have more privacy and time at your place. Let's go before we miss the light again."He towed Marshall behind him and they raced across the street, though they had plenty of time to cross. By the time they made it to Marshall's apartment building, they were both breathless and grinning, though he never would have admitted he was more breathless from excitement than exhaustion. Just before they opened the door, Kyle pulled on their entwined hands and cocked his head.

"Oh and Marshall?"He asked, turning to look at his very impatient lover, who merely gruffed a weird man-sound in reply. "Who said this wasn't a date?"Marshall blinked.

"Well..."He paused, biting his lip and considering.

"Because I do recall you asking me to come with you, and I consider that a very informal invitation."Kyle smirked."By the way, next time if you don't bring me to a fancy restaurant and buy me flowers I'll kick your ass for being a cheap date."Marshall laughed.

"Oh really? So you're the bitch in the relationship? Does that mean I get to be on top?"Marshall winked. Kyle punched him "lightly " and they headed through the front door.




Office Confrontations Ch. 04



"Yeah, that's never going to happen. You can't resist being my bitch, Honeybuns."Kyle laughed, and Marshall joined him, for once not searching everywhere for witnesses to their tightly wound hands or their very close proximity. Not to mention their swollen lips.

"You know,"Marshall started when the elevator opened "thankfully vacant of any older matrons and underage ears, "If you keep using that nickname I won't be able to resist retaliating with Schnookums."He grinned and scrambled back to avoid Kyle's murderous hands.

"Stop saying that!"Kyle growled, stalking him into a corner and pinning Marshall's hands to the elevator walls. Marshall didn't fight, just gnawed his lip and watched Kyle with apprehensive eyes―and an unsurprising lump of arousal in his trousers. 

"What? It's a meaningful nickname. It means I care doesn't it?"Marshall faked a grin, though he knew Kyle saw right through it."Besides, Honeybuns is just as bad.

"No it's not, at least Honeybuns compliments your assets. Schnookums is just to piss me off."Marshall couldn't argue that point, and didn't even try as he surrendered to Kyle's frustration and―was that an arising pronouncement of manhood demanding his attention? Marshall gulped, suddenly dying for the stupid elevator door to open on their floor. 

Their floor. Didn't Marshall mean his floor? He shook his head slowly, dropping his eyes to Kyle's lips, traveling to his neck. 

"Maybe I like you riled up."He muttered under his breath, knowing Kyle could hear his every word perfectly whilst standing not two inches away. 

"You are insane. Here I thought it was just me being paranoid, but you really are insane."Kyle breathed, still unable to unlatch his claws from Marshall's palms. The elevator dinged and the door slid open. Momentarily distracted, Marshall slipped from Kyle's grip and dashed to the door. Kyle followed a split second later, pinning him to the wall two feet from the door. He bore down, face inches from Marshall's and crushing himself into Marshall completely. 

"Stop begging me to hurt you, or I will."He growled, their lips barely touching as he spoke. Marshall lifted his chin to get closer but Kyle pulled back. I mean it. If you keep this up...I can't promise I'll be able to stop myself if you freak out on me, and I won't apologize for not holding back either."

Marshall blatantly stared back in determination, eyes alight with need. "Kyle even if you tried to walk away I'd chase you down and drag you back, I don't give a damn how much stronger you are thanks to your girly pirouettes." He punctuated the last few words with a rough kiss, ignoring the brutal grip of Kyle's hands on his skin as he did. "Just because I might get nervous doesn't mean I want you to stop." Marshall caught Kyle's widened eyes once more.

"Whatever happens, I don't want you to stop. So shut the fuck up and get to my apartment so I can rip off your clothes and you can do to me whatever you please."His chin tipped higher, this time in retaliation to Kyle's unspoken argument. It was painfully clear Kyle didn't believe him, no matter what he said about trusting Kyle "but that merely meant Marshall had to convince him, and there are plenty of creative ways to get Kyle to understand, right? 

Marshall didn't expect an answer, so he dutifully maneuvered his fingers around Kyle's and pushed. Surprisingly, Kyle didn't force him back into the wall. Inch by painful inch, Marshall stepped away from the rough stucco digging into his shoulder-blades, though he didn't relinquish even the slightest amount of closeness between them. 

"Kyle. Believe what you want, but I want this, and if I have to throw you over my shoulder kicking and screaming and go all neanderthal on your ass, I will."With that he tightened his own hold on Kyle's tensed hands and dragged him to the door, barely pausing to dig his keys from his pocket and unlock the door. At least this time he had the grace not to drop the key-chain in his nervousness. 

As soon as the door opened wide, Marshall made a beeline for the bedroom. Only Kyle had the presence of mind to lock the front door before following along. When they reached the bedroom, Marshall immediately turned and latched his hand into a fistful of Kyle's shirt, tugging at the buttons quickly and efficiently until he could shove the offending fabric away from Kyle's smooth, pale skin. Marshall released Kyle's fingers and ran his hands over Kyle's torso, starting from his collar bones to trace down to his hip bones, and right back up. They delved behind his shoulders and onto his back, lightly running blunt nails over the exposed skin and the tightly wound muscle beneath. Kyle had yet to move, and there wasn't a visible motion indicating he even breathed.

Marshall was determined to prove he wanted Kyle in every sense of the word. He didn't even hesitate when he dropped to his knees and plucked at the belt holding the whisper thin slacks to Kyle's well built thighs. He didn't pause to unbutton or unzip, he just dragged the fabric down Kyle's slim hips and pushed them and the boxers beneath to the ground. From his position, he looked up at Kyle with burning eyes. Without looking away, his hand slipped from Kyle's knee to the base of his erection, gripping it firmly and pulling it closer. As his breath whispered across the tip, breezing over the slit and bringing forth a dollop of precum, Kyle leaned down to catch his chin.

"Don't."He groaned, and Marshall licked his lips at the sight of Kyle so breathless, so close to losing control. Marshall had never seen the man do so much as piss without it being on a strict schedule, and yet with Marshall poised to devour, he looked completely at a loss, and his eyes screamed with an overwhelming need he couldn't reign in to save his life.

"Why not?"He asked, making sure to lean closer even as Kyle tried to push him away. Thankfully, the angle was all wrong for Kyle to shove him away, and he wasn't really trying, anyway. 

"I don't need your pity. And I sure as hell don't need you to blow me just to prove a point."Kyle rasped, trying to step back. He only succeeded in cornering himself against the bed and nearly toppling backward. Marshall dug his nails deep into Kyle's thigh, and his hand wrapped very possessively around Kyle's manhood squeezed in retaliation.

"Fuck you."He punctuated. Kyle's eyebrows tightened together. I'm not doing this out of fucking pity. Do you really think if I didn't want your dick this close to my face I would be on my knees for you?"He demanded. Marshall pulled Kyle closer with his vice grip on the shaft and Kyle stifled a sound caught between a moan and a whimper. 

"What do you not understand? I want you, Kyle. I want to taste you, I want you inside me, and I want to wake up to you in my bed every fucking morning."He growled. Now shut the hell up and let me suck your damn cock or I swear I'll squeeze you until you collapse, do you understand me?"Kyle balked, but had no time to respond. Marshall didn't hesitate for a second; his mouth descended on the head of Kyle's cock and sucked hard, lapping in wide circles over the surprisingly yielding flesh. He could feel Kyle's body tighten and looked back up to his face, tipped back in a silent scream. Both hands fell to his sides, as if Kyle could no longer find the energy to hold them up. 

Marshall would have smirked if his mouth wasn't full. With eyes locked on Kyle's expression, he pushed further forward, lapping at the underside of Kyle's dick as he sucked another inch into his mouth. Licking everywhere, he let the cock nearly slip from his lips, sucking on the very tip and burrowing his tongue into the slit before gripping Kyle's ass with his unoccupied hand to push the hot slab of meat deeper into his lips. He made sure his tongue licked at every millimeter of skin, twisting his head slightly to each side at every bob, and when he had nearly half of Kyle's thick cock in his mouth, he felt the head press against his throat. 

Only panicking for a split second, Marshall pulled back. Kyle moaned harshly through his tightly clenched teeth and a hand reached down to grip Marshall's hair, tangling tight into the tendrils and holding him there. But Marshall refused to be told what to do, even silently, and dug his nails into Kyle's ass, forcing him closer and allowing the head to press against his throat again. After a half breath, he swallowed―and quickly pulled back, sputtering. The grip in his hair tightened and a keening sound emanated from Kyle's lips, dragging him off roughly, though Marshall managed to suck one last time, licking over the slit to catch the tangy droplets already gathering.

"Dammit, Marshall."Kyle groaned, heaving and pushing Marshall away, who quickly leaned forward for another taste. The fingers in his hair felt like an iron grip as they held him away. "Stop that already."He breathed, raking his free hand through his damp ringlets. 

"I don't want to. Can't you--"Marshall started.

"Shut up, and let me speak."Kyle collapsed on the bed behind him and scooted further onto the mattress, to keep Marshall's face a safe distance away. The hand in his hair moved to cover his eyes, and Kyle sighed. I have no idea what you're trying to prove. I never asked you to blow me, I never even asked you to take me to the bedroom. Hell, Marshall, I didn't think I'd ever live through this situation in a thousand years."

"I don't care that you didn't ask me. It's my choice, and I am going to do as I please, damn you."Marshall growled."Again, another fucking wall. Will you ever let me in?"He demanded, standing and folding his arms across his chest.

"There is no wall."Kyle snapped, leaning up on his elbows, careful to keep his knees pulled up and close together, deterring any wayward hands. 

"Bullshit."Marshall retorted, glaring pointedly at Kyle's legs and hidden arousal. Kyle huffed angrily and sat all the way up, grabbing Marshall by the shirt and practically throwing him onto the bed. He quickly climbed on top of Marshall and tore at the shirt beneath his hands, popping a few buttons in his haste.

"You want in?"Kyle demanded, dragging his nails down Marshall's chest to the waist of his jeans. A breathless yes,"escaped Marshall's lips as he rose his hips to meet Kyle's naked skin and hands, which tore off the jeans as quickly as they had the shirt, though with a few less tears. Marshall's hands lay slack beside him, and his eyes closed, finally breathing in relief. To be touched by Kyle, to touch him, that's all Marshall wanted. He'd ached for weeks, needing the closeness again. Intimate gropings in dark hallways weren't satisfying. He needed to feel Kyle again; his chest had been tightly constricted since the last time they lay naked together, but it loosened at Kyle's hands digging into his boxers and ripping them from his legs. 

Kyle closed the distance between them and pressed himself flush against Marshall, lining their cocks up against each other and pausing. Marshall's hands flew to Kyle's neck and wrapped tightly around it, pulling Kyle closer. 

"Please."Marshall whispered when Kyle resisted, hovering inches above Marshall's lips. Air ghosted across Marshall's face as Kyle exhaled slowly, and Marshall tightened his hold, trying to bring their lips together. 

"Marshall..."Kyle breathed, and Marshall dug his nails into tender skin, causing Kyle to hiss and squeeze his eyes closed. Pressing his advantage, Marshall bucked upward into Kyle's groin and groaned when their cocks rubbed together, tip to shaft, and slipped apart. He whined and dug his nails in again, tipping his chin up and parting his lips.

With his eyelids tightly squeezed together, heart racing, and breath caught in his throat, Marshall melted at the soft touch of Kyle's lips to his. Marshall's entire body gave way to Kyle's touch, the heat rolling off of them in waves. Marshall pressed upward and kissed Kyle hard, lips parted and tongue forcing its way in, delving for Kyle's evasive tongue. They both moaned when their bodies shuddered, and Kyle wiggled his hand between them, capturing both cocks and squeezing them together. 

In seconds his fingers were slick with precum from each formidably leaking erection, and the smooth, tight glide of their cocks together had them gasping. Marshall jolted with every thrust, and Kyle bucked against him, grinding downward as his hand stroked faster, twisting at the base of their cocks and tightening almost painfully around their cock heads. Kyle pulled away first to utter a nearly inaudible moan, and Marshall's head fell back as his own vocals joined in, quickly overtaking Kyle's tightly controlled sounds. The feeling was unbelievable, and his dick felt so sensitive, enslaved by Kyle's hand and willing to do anything for more friction. As if reading Marshall's mind, Kyle's fingers rolled over their shafts and twisted upward, picking up speed as their uncontrollable moans filled the room. 

"F-fuck, I―ah, I can't--"Marshall whined, cut off by Kyle's forceful lips. He moaned into Kyle's open mouth and let go, hands sliding down Kyle's neck to grip his hips and drag him downward. Kyle swallowed the moan as Marshall shuddered, cock pulsing with his heartbeat, and the orgasm reached its peak. Cum spurted in huge globs, covering the hand still wrapped tightly around them and making their stomachs sticky and wet with more than just sweat. Kyle released Marshall's mouth and dropped his face into Marshall's neck, biting deep into the tender skin as Marshall felt warm loads of cum joining his own and pooling on his stomach and chest. 

They exploded for nearly a minute together, Marshall gasping as his heart rate attempted to slow, the last drops of cum leaking from the tip and mingling with Kyle's, who shot another two loads before finally collapsing onto Marshall, breathing ragged and body completely limp. Together they lay unmoving, and Marshall wouldn't have been able to form a complete sentence, or even a single syllable as he closed his eyes and sucked in breath after satisfied breath. 

Marshall had had sex before, a number of times. He'd been with a few women, but no one had ever, ever caused him so much pleasure, so much unbelievable sensation, without so much of an inch of penetration―into any orifice. And all Marshall could think was finally, over and over. Slowly, his hands began to trace Kyle's shoulder blades, dipping down his spine and splaying over his lower back. Marshall traced unidentifiable patterns into Kyle's skin as he stared at his closed eyelids. 

For the first time in a very long time, Marshall was happy. Elated, in fact. And satisfied. He could feel nothing but warmth in his chest, on his chest, and against his already deflating manhood. His arms formed a loose circle around Kyle's waist and he sighed contentedly, pressing his cheek against Kyle's. Time no longer felt as if it were passing. They merely existed, and Marshall was nearly unconscious when he heard a soft sound against his ear.

"What?"He whispered, groggy, and throat dry and scratching with effort. 

"Why?"Kyle asked again, voice soft and almost unrecognizable. 

"Why did I cum? I thought you'd be arrogantly lording it over my head."Which I wouldn't have minded, thought to himself, but didn't voice aloud.

"You know what I mean."Kyle griped, and Marshall's chest rumbled with silent laughter. 

"Because I wanted to. Because feeling you against me--"He blushed, thankful Kyle couldn't see him. Kyle leaned up on his elbows, staring down at Marshall with blatant confusion. 

"The first time I touched you, you ran away. You practically screamed rape in my face and spat on me."Kyle wasn't one for subtlety, and Marshall groaned, rolling his eyes. "Seriously. Why are you doing this?"Marshall leaned up on his own elbows, rucking their chests against each other "and he made a mental note to shower after their little 'talk'. 

"I'm guessing my previous answer was inadequate."He grumbled, looking up at Kyle with a resigned expression. "Let me try another approach."He sat up and Kyle backed away, kneeling over him until Marshall gently pushed him into a sitting position across from him on the bed. 

"Ever since that first night, I've been dreaming about you. Fantasizing."He didn't drop his eyes from Kyle, though he really, really wanted to."After our kink fest, the fantasizing completely took over every waking thought. All I could think about was to get you close again."He shrugged helplessly. "When you touch me, I just―can't seem to do anything but beg for more. I can't say I ever imagined I'd turn gay and want to suck cock, but that doesn't mean turning you on and hearing you moan doesn't make me hard. I want you. All of you."His blush covered his face and neck and he bit his lip before continuing.

"You still don't believe me."He stated rhetorically. At a glance he could tell Kyle's disbelief hadn't lessened, not even a bit. "Kyle, ever since that first night I've jerked off remembering your hands on me, in me even. I haven't thought about anyone but you, do you understand? I don't know how this happened, but it's not going away."He gripped Kyle's shoulders. I'm interested. Hell, more than interested. Obsessed, maybe. Delirious with desire. Aching for--"He was cut off by a hand to his chest and warm lips enveloping his own. Their tongues met as lips parted and mouths widened, and Marshall forgot whatever he was saying in favor of Kyle and his tongue, his hand stroking his chest and grazing over a nipple, their knees brushing against each other as they scrambled closer together. 

As abruptly as it came, the kiss ended and Marshall was left wanting all over again. 

"You're right, I don't believe you. But I figured shutting you up before you go on another hour long lecture was in my best interest."Kyle smirked, tongue flicking over his lower lip. You know, you kept gabbing on and on about my sadistic games, yet that was probably the most vanilla sex I've ever had."He laughed lightly when Marshall glared and tried to shove him away.

"What? You wanted me to pull out all the stops and all I get is a blowjob for all my trouble?"He rolled out of the way when Marshall threw a pillow at his face. I have to tell you, this has gone down nothing like my real sessions would."He stilled, and Marshall crouched on the covers, searching for any sign of attack. 

"But come over tomorrow. If you're brave enough, I'll show you what I can really do."Kyle's expression didn't seem to change, but Marshall knew there was something different there. But he finally managed to reign in his tongue. Sort of. Instead of replying, he pulled Kyle closer and lay back on the bed, kissing him softly. His hand cupped Kyle's cheek and Kyle wound his own arm over Marshall's shoulders. 

"Fine. But no cuffs."Marshall replied between kisses, and as Kyle's laughter died away they closed their eyes, allowing sleep to overtake them, sticky flesh and all.

* * *

"If Clara really matters to you, why won't you at least invite her to the opening performance?" Marshall tried, unsuccessfully, explaining to Kyle yet again. He placed an arm on Kyle's shoulder, redirecting him toward their shared office space rather than their old cubicles - the one Marshall had to return to in two days.

Finally the dreaded, yet welcome, day had arrived. Marshall's chest had been tightly restrained with tension for weeks, knowing it was coming. 

Kyle's last day. 

Two measly days away. Kyle said he was relieved, being trapped in his character for weeks on end, but Marshall felt differently. Would things still be the same, sharing coffee and bagels over boring paperwork, taking lunch together downstairs - with Kyle's continued facade drowning out all normalcy from their lives? Clara had grown increasingly quiet as well. She knew there was more to his departure than meets the eye, but she was smart enough not to confront Kyle again - after that last fiasco, who could blame her?




Office Confrontations Ch. 04



Yet Kyle avoided all topics of conversation that revolved around revealing the truth. 

"We've talked about this enough Marshall. If you don't back off I'll rescind your ticket, so let it go."Kyle growled, shoving off Marshall's hand and stalking toward the office. Marshall rolled his eyes, catching the door before it slammed shut.

"You do realize I can just go purchase my own ticket, right?

"At a hundred-forty a pop?"Kyle retorted. Marshall turned his head and glowered at the white-washed walls.

"Low blow asshole."He threw his briefcase to the table and prized it open, practically dumping out half the paperwork in one motion. 

"You're the one that keeps bringing up baggage. Drop it and so will I." Marshall ground his teeth but didn't comment. Kyle was always the man to use weaknesses against others. He was good at that. In fact, his personal motto must have been the best defense is a good offense. 

His football coach would be so proud. Marshall thought, looking over at Kyle's tawny frame. Even though he wore his fake glasses, he still had the look of a lion on the hunt, the determination glinting in his eyes, the way they flickered with knowledge behind the thick glass. Marshall gulped, for entirely different reasons, and dropped his eyes. 

Damn. How does he always do this to me? Even when he's not speaking he manages to change the topic to sexual tension. Prick.

Marshall tossed the papers around and fidgeted in his seat, ignoring how busy Kyle had gotten and how completely pointless their entire conversation was.

By lunchtime the tension dissipated, and Kyle grinned as they slipped from the suite.

"What's that terrifying smile for?"Marshall jabbed Kyle's ribs and resisted the urge to grab his hand. They were at work, he had to remember. He'd yet to come out to the rest of the building. 

"Did we just have our first fight?"Kyle teased, obviously joking "sometimes it seemed all they did was argue and grope each other. The hallway was mercifully empty, otherwise Kyle would already be in that annoying perpetually shivering chihuahua routine Marshall despised yet lo―enjoyed to varying degrees. 

"Oh, Schnookums, can you ever forgive me?" Marshall put a hand to his chest and pouted, rapidly blinking his eyes. Kyle punched him roughly, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. The messy loose curls danced about his face, catching in the confines of his glasses. Marshall licked his lips.

"No more of that Schnookums shit, you know how I feel about--" Instantly Kyle drew into himself, hands quivering and lip caught between his teeth. He dropped his eyes and held his sides with both arms, nearly hiding in Marshall's shadow.

Marshall turned to find Aaron and a few work buddies planted at one of the lunch tables, and Clara waving them over with an ecstatic grin. Kyle blushed nervously and waved a shaking hand, turning his head away from the masses. Marshall withheld a chuckle. 

"Your best friend is looking for you. Seems she saved us seats."Marshall grabbed Kyle's wrist and pulled him over. Anything to piss Kyle off put Marshall in a fantastic mood.

"Ky-ky!"Clara cooed, hopping from her seat and wrapping her arms around Kyle's throat, who coughed and tried weakly to pry her off. Marshall grabbed her gently by the forearms and directed her attention to the bench, where he pulled Kyle down to sit with them. 

"I missed you dear. Oh, I'm going to hate not seeing you every day!"She practically purred, wrapping herself around his arm and holding tight. Kyle aimed a glare at Marshall before trying to escape her slutty clutches.

"Why don't you lay off the whiny little nerd and come cuddle with me, Clara? He seems a bit too skittish around you, I doubt he'll know what to do with a woman's attentions, much less yours."Aaron's condescending voice boomed, filling the lunch room with caustic laughter. The others joined in even as Clara smacked Aaron's arm.

"Be nice."She chastised, though she returned her attention to the brute's tanned biceps. "There's plenty of me to go around.

"So we heard."One of the others muttered under their breath. Clara flushed bright red but smiled, turning toward Kyle.

"Do you have any plans for your last day?"She inquired, blinking away the red in her eyes. Kyle's jaw clenched and from his position a few inches away, Marshall could feel Kyle's anger. But what came out was nothing short of pure wonder.

"N-n-no, of c-course n-not. I was j-j-just--"Kyle dropped his head and rubbed his neck with a hand, though only Marshall noticed the tinge of irritation in his words. N-nothing sp-special."He tried again, voice barely above a whisper. 

"Sweetie you need a going away party."Clara announced gleefully. Kyle shook his head, a look of horror spreading across his face, and Marshall couldn't tell if it was sincere or fake. 

But hell, if Marshall wasn't amused then he had no sense of humor. Though he stifled the laughter he couldn't help the elation in his face, and unfortunately Kyle spotted it. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly though his eyes stayed on Clara.

"N-no, th-that's okay, you d-don't have to..."Kyle mumbled, eyes pleading. Clara would hear none of it. 

"Oh, don't be silly Kyle! We have to do something spectacular, otherwise I'll feel so very sad. I want to give you something to remember your time here.

"I don't th-think I'll e-ever forget th-this place."He replied, and his lips nearly quirked upward as he caught Marshall's gaze with intensity. 

"Come on Kyle, let her celebrate with you one last time, since you're not in--"Marshall coughed, trying to cover the groan of pain when Kyle's fingernails dug into his thigh. "What I meant to say was how about we celebrate at the bar we all first got together? That's a good a place as any."Kyle's nails dug in deeper, but Marshall ignored him, focusing on Clara's shriek of delight. 

"That's perfect! What a wonderful idea. I'll reserve a table, bring cake..."She trailed off, grinning happily. "Tonight, nine o'clock. You better be there Kyle, I might not get to see you after you leave."She pouted so prettily, lip quivering slightly with its subtle shimmer of gloss and large, watery eyes intensified by the thin stroke of dark eyeliner. Kyle sighed and nodded, keeping his eyes firmly on the table. Marshall patted his arm. 

"You sit, it's my turn to buy lunch. I'm sure Clara will keep you company. Oh, and his favorite color this month is yellow."He grinned and took off without letting Kyle respond.

Sure, he'd be punished soon enough, but that was part of the fun.

* * *

"Marshall, damn you, now I have to deal with her incessant yammering and touchy feely crap all night. You know she gets worse the more liquor she drinks."Kyle yelled from the closet, where he was spending an inordinate amount of time dressing, though he kept saying he didn't want to go out.

Then why waste his time looking for something decent to wear, not that he didn't have a thousand well tailored suits and cashmere sweaters, while Marshall stood in the only pair of nice jeans he owned and a plain long-sleeved gray shirt. Marshall really needed a new wardrobe.

"Kyle, if you don't hurry your ass up we're going to be late to your going away party."Marshall reminded him."And I gave her the idea because she's going to miss you and you refuse to keep in touch. She deserves at least one night with you before you put her out of your mind forever.

"You know that's not--"Kyle started, poking his head from the bedroom and frowning.

"Yeah, yeah. I remember, I just don't agree with your ridiculous logic."Marshall grumped, but even through his complaining and irritation with Kyle's choices, Marshall was still warmed by the sight of Kyle's eyes rolling and the way his hair fell to one side as Kyle shook his head.

"The point is get dressed and let's go, prima donna. Fuck, if I knew you'd be such a girl about finding the perfect outfit I would have gone to help Clara set up instead.

"Oh you know you like staring at me in such a state of undress."Kyle winked, ducking back into the room and shuffling around. Marshall grunted vaguely, glad Kyle couldn't see his face heating up."And what do you mean 'setting up'?

"Nevermind. I don't want to overwhelm your pretty little head, go back to picking out the perfect party dress.

"First, fuck off."Kyle replied, to which Marshall laughed. "Second, explain already. What do you mean set up?"He reiterated unnecessarily. 

"If you weren't wasting time you'd already know."Marshall smirked. Maybe curiosity would urge Kyle to choose a little quicker. Preferably, right at that second. 

Kyle stomped from the room, glaring at Marshall in irritation. However, Marshall's eyes were more focused on his fantastically dressed boyfriend―okay, so the wasted time wasn't so wasted after all. Kyle was dressed in tight, low slung dark blue jeans and a forest green cashmere sweater that brought out the emerald shards in his hazel eyes. Marshall tried not to stare. Emphasis on tried.

"Close your mouth, you're getting drool all over the carpet."Kyle smirked, folding his arms across his chest. Marshall attempted to glare at Kyle(after closing his mouth of course) but found himself distracted by the soft, loose curls hanging in Kyle's eyes. He reached up to tug a curl between his fingers, pushing it behind Kyle's ear. Kyle himself had an eyebrow raised and continued to stare at Marshall's antics silently. Marshall's fingers drifted past the slight curl and trailed down the soft curls nearly reaching Kyle's shoulders.

"Didn't you say something about us being late?"Kyle's lip quirked. Not that I'm not enjoying the attention."Marshall cleared his throat and turned away, heading purposefully for the door. 

"Yeah, thanks to your need to try on every pair of panties to make sure it matched your lipstick. Let's go already."Marshall ignored Kyle's laughter and trudged down the porch steps, tapping his foot impatiently next to Kyle's vehicle.

Kyle didn't speak as he got into the car and started it up, but he didn't need to. The amused grin said more than Marshall wanted to hear. However, as they sped toward Barney's, the hole in the wall bar they all got together for the first time all those weeks ago, Kyle became significantly more tense.

Marshall was tempted to say something to make him feel better but nothing came to mind, and Kyle's caustic remarks turned him off to speaking out. When they finally managed to park on the side of the halfway-to-condemned building, Kyle spoke up. 

"We'll stay for an hour."At last, words. Just depressing ones. Kyle looked over, reaching out to grip Marshall's hand firmly. I mean it."Marshall turned his palm up and squeezed right back.

"Kyle, there's more to life than your own selfish needs. Now shut the fuck up about ruining Clara's night. You're going to get hammered and I'm going to drive your drunk ass home."Marshall's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You can't be serious."Kyle's eyebrow arched severely, questioning.

"Hand me the keys."Marshall stuck out his free hand and glared meaningfully at Kyle until he sighed. 

"You're a pain in the ass."he grumbled, dumping the keys into Marshall's hand. Marshall smiled and tucked them into his pocket.

"I learned it all from you."He winked. 

"Remind me to revoke the next lesson plan."Marshall chuckled and hopped out, careful to lock the doors with the little button on the key chain. Before they could head inside Kyle grabbed his wrists and tucked Marshall against the wall of the building, kissing him roughly and crushing him against the wall, holding his hands to the freezing cement forcefully.

When he pulled away, Kyle smirked with swollen lips and released him, rubbing his pulse points as he did. Marshall sputtered breathlessly and shook his head, still rucked up against the wall.

"I figured I'd steal a kiss before we head inside to the party of lies."Kyle patted Marshall's cheek and turned on his heel. 

There was only a subtle hint of pain in Kyle's eyes. Funny, Marshall knew he was a phenomenal actor...why would he slip up?

Unless he managed to trust Marshall with sincerity. Was Kyle speaking openly to him instead of hiding behind a thousand different masks? Shit. Marshall numbly followed Kyle into the bar, heading toward the table in the back, where the supposed party awaited. The table Marshall had sent Kyle crying to the bathroom from. Had that really happened? Almost two months ago Marshall's biggest fear was having to sit next to Kyle in the booth. Marshall smiled at the memory. 

"Get that look off your face, you hate me remember?"Kyle nudged his arm.

"I never actually hated you."Marshall countered. I just didn't trust myself around you.

"No wonder why."Kyle smirked. Marshall elbowed him roughly.

"After that elevator scene how could you blame me?"Marshall pointed out.

"Which one?"Kyle's smile turned salacious. Marshall fought the blush and was thankful for the dim lighting of the bar.

"The first one, asshole. You know, when you ordered me to pick up your files then kicked them out of my hands?"Marshall's voice dropped to a whisper, and Kyle nodded, expression surprisingly gentle yet burning with lust at the same time. 

And who said women were the only ones with complicated emotions?

"How could I forget such a first meeting?"He asked just as quietly "they approached Aaron, Clara, and a few more people whose names Marshall wasn't exactly certain of. "That was the first time I ever broke character, but you were so easily entranced--"Kyle's reverie ended when Clara yelped and threw herself at him, babbling much too fast and high pitched for Marshall to follow. 

Clara dragged a very uncomfortable Kyle to the foray with Marshall following behind, a bemused laugh drifting softly from his lips.

Above the table, a hand-crafted sign reading, "We'll miss you Kyle!" in big, swooping gold glitter had been hung. Kyle shot a glare back at Marshall before disappearing into his facade, ducking his head and clutching his chest tight. Clara's arms wrapped possessively around his waist but he had the decency not to push her off. Aaron tromped to Marshall's side, grinning.

"Feels like years since we last saw each other."Aaron clapped Marshall on the arm. Marshall sighed inwardly and smiled with no real joy. His eyes watched Kyle's tense, quivering shoulders intently.

"You haven't returned my phone calls, what gives?"Aaron questioned, though he was too stupid to figure out why. I'm avoiding you, can't you take a fucking hint? But instead of causing a ruckus, Marshall shrugged. 

"Been busy."He responded vaguely. Not much time to go out drinking every night."Aaron laughed as if Marshall made a great joke. Fucking imbecile. 

"And here I thought you replaced me with that nerd boy over there."Aaron's laugh grated on Marshall's eardrums, and he resisted the urge to punch Aaron square in the jaw.

"He's my partner. For the project."Marshall reminded him."And I didn't think you liked him all that much, what are you doing here?"

"I like him more than you do."Aaron grinned, causing Marshall to wince in embarrassment."But I'm here for Clara. She's been giving me the runaround for weeks and I figured with her all torn up by that loser leaving, she'll be easy pickings."If Marshall didn't get away from Aaron quickly that rich prick would be paying thousands in hospital bills.

"She's not here to fu--"Clara turned and called Marshall over, urging him with a wave of her arm. Kyle sent him a pleading look.

"You know what? I'm going to give Kyle my attention tonight. At least, I'll try to keep Clara from smothering him. Why don't you get a drink and take a seat?"Marshall walked off without another word, hands clenched into fists and jaw tight with frustration. Kyle looked grateful as Marshall approached, and Marshall took a slow breath, trying to ease his irritation.

"Clara dear, how about you and I grab some refreshments?"He offered, holding out his hand to her. She giggled and whispered something into Kyle's ear. He flushed bright red, eyes growing wide. Clara released him with a kiss on his cheek and took Marshall's hand. Marshall hugged her gently, giving Kyle a wink over his shoulder. Before he turned away he could have sworn he saw Kyle breathe a sigh of relief.

"The banner looks great, Clara."Marshall praised when they broke apart. She smiled warmly, though her eyes were slightly tinted with pink, and they glittered with moisture.

"Thanks. I spent all day on it."Marshall couldn't remember when his disgust became affection, but he was glad for it. Clara was more than she appeared.

Then again, so was Kyle. And me. Marshall watched the floor, deep in thought, as they walked. My best friends knows absolutely nothing about me, my boyfriend is a secret, and I keep finding out how insanely obsessed I've become with a man I used to be terrified of.

 

When did I become so complex?

"Are you going to miss him?" Clara asked. Marshall regarded her teary expression.

"I'm going to miss the mid-morning groping."Marshall grinned. Stunned to laughter, Clara gripped Marshall's arm to steady herself.

"Yeah, I'm going to miss him. But I'm also going to spend as much time with him as physically possible."Clara looked away.

"Kyle's been avoiding me."She admitted quietly. "He didn't even want to be here tonight. I don't think I'll see him again once he leaves."Marshall bit his lip, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Clara..."Marshall sighed.

"It's okay, I know he doesn't like me all that much."She dabbed at her eyes surreptitiously. 

"No, that's not it."Marshall stopped and turned Clara to face him, gripping her shoulders. "He cares about you, I swear."He took a deep breath. Kyle would forgive him.

Right?

"He's afraid you'll hate him. He's...hiding something, and he thinks when you find out that you'll hate him."Clara shook her head, disbelieving.

"I could never hate Kyle."She exclaimed. Marshall smiled gently. 

"Look, if Kyle really means that much to you, I'll risk his wrath to show you he cares. Even if it pisses him off at first. Marshall pulled her closer, dropping his voice as if Kyle was behind them, eavesdropping. "There's this...something you have to see. A month from now, something huge is going to happen for him. I know he'll want you there, even if he's too nervous to ask you."She watched him with her brows furrowed, lips puckered in thought.

"If it's going to make him mad at you, you don't have to do this. I don't want to upset him."She looked away. Marshall shook his head.

"You're not going to upset him, I'm going to upset him. But he deserves it for being an idiot. I'm doing this for both of you."Clara didn't look fully convinced but she didn't argue. "Just make sure you don't tell him about any of this, not until he sees you that night."Clara nodded seriously and Marshall smiled at her determination.

"Now let's get some liquor and get my boyfriend trashed."Clara laughed and nodded, twining her arm with Marshall's and tugging him toward the bar-top, ordering up a pitcher and a round of shots to be delivered to their table. 

Marshall, coerced into carrying most of the drinks thanks to his 'manly' physique, struggled to balance the Tequila shots in one hand and the pitcher of Blue Moon in the other. Thankfully the table wasn't far, though he did have to avoid Aaron's grabbing hands trying to steal up all the liquor. Glaring with undisguised animosity, Marshall sloshed the alcohol away and veered right, toward Kyle hunched over the table under the banner. 

"T-took you long en-enough."Kyle muttered under his breath, making sure to keep Clara out of earshot. Marshall set the three shots down and looked pointedly at them. When Kyle didn't respond, Marshall dropped into the bench beside him, scooting them closer.