calvinbox | open post | 4

[ There are Kingsman buildings scattered across the Europe. Two in and around London, one in Leeds, another outside Glasgow, one or two outside of the United Kingdom. They exist as pockets; the more staff a secret organization has, the less secret it gets. The less staff they have, the less effective. Gawain can work out of Leeds if he likes, Morgana can run a branch of R&D out of Berlin, but only the home base has their wizard. Harry's preferred office may be the one he's made himself, tiled with tabloid papers to remind him of the invisibility of his footprint, but Merlin's home office is only a convenience. His large office in the manor, lined with screens and decorated with the appropriate furnishings for a man constantly at work by his own design, is his sanctuary. There's an elegant routine to getting up each day, grabbing a cup of coffee and sipping it on the short ride out of the city.

That office was his playground, and it had been a long fucking time since he'd seen anyone wanking in his fucking chair.

No one dared of course, except Harry. Anyone else would have been reamed out at best, let go at worst, but Harry had made an occasional habit of it to rile him up when they were younger men. Now, well, neither of them could really claim to have the energy in them to be that sexually active all the time, especially when they bloody well lived together.

Eggsy even looks like Harry did then, sitting with his legs splayed in his godddamn chair, palming himself through his jeans (a concession Merlin doesn't mind on physical training days, though Harry would have a conniption).

His hand tightens around the handle of his coffee mug so he doesn't drop it; His clipboard nearly does. ]

What do you think you're doing, Galahad?

[Eggsy was a good agent, sometimes he thought he was the best fucking agent ever, but that was usually when he was right at the top of a successful mission high. That, though, never really stopped him from doing something that could be considered 'bad', at least in the eyes of Merlin, because sometimes he couldn't help himself.

So he'd come in a little early, which had fucking sucked because who wanted to get up that early, and had slipped into Merlin's office to settle into his chair. He had plans, specific plans that involved Merlin fucking him before Eggsy went to do some training sessions, and he's well into those plans when the man comes into the room.

And if he wore an especially tight pair of jeans for the occasion, well that couldn't be helped, either.]

Doin'? Merlin, I'm not doin' anythin'.

[Eggsy continues to palm himself, both hands moving, fingers curling and stroking, gaze meeting Merlin's. His mouth curves up on one side, and he lets his eyes fall shut slowly, arching his back in the chair, groaning as his legs fall open.]

Not doin' anythin' really.

[ Merlin really shouldn't allow this. He should be a goddamn professional about it, tell Eggsy to get a move on and let him get to work. He should scold Eggsy for bringing their personal lives into the workplace more than absolutely necessary. Should being the key word of course. He'd gone through this all before, the dance between professionalism and affection, navigating office romance from a position of authority. It was exhausting then, and (though he'd be damned if he would admit it), Harry's lax approach had rubbed off on him over the years simply by proxy. He can almost hear Harry's voice in his ear telling him to just enjoy the moment for what it is, what would it hurt?

Thirty year old Merlin would be turned on and cross. Fifty year old Merlin is just as turned on, and less cross than he perhaps should be. ]

I can see that.

[ He crosses the room to put down his mug and clip board, then lean over Eggsy from the back of the chair. The pressure he puts on the arms dips the chair backwards, into his control. His mouth hovers over Eggsy's ear, his voice a calm, forceful quiet just above a whisper. ]

Get out of the chair, Eggsy.

[Eggsy might have his eyes closed, but he is acutely aware of every step the man takes, the soft sounds of the mug and clip board being sat down. It just tenses him right up, hoping that Merlin is going to punish him for breaking the rules or fuck him like they both know Eggsy wants or a mix of the two because he thinks that idea is just as hot.

It takes every ounce of his resolve not to open his eyes. Or get out of the chair and just leap on the older man.

He groans low in his throat, hands stuttering, giving away the fact that he really likes Merlin's tone and his accent and fuck, everything about him. Eggsy inhales slowly, moves his hands again, arches his back again and tilts his head to the side to expose his throat, chin jutting up in defiance.]

Make me.

[The silence after he says it, whether it lasts a few seconds or minutes, feels like it stretches on for days, weeks even if he's feeling dramatic. Eggsy isn't sure what Merlin will do and that's the most exciting part.]

[ Encouraging this sort of behavior, now that would be irresponsible of him. He takes a long moment for the fact that he might just take Eggsy down a peg to sink in. He says nothing, holding down the chair with one arm as he reaches over to his keyboard. With a few keystrokes a light flashes blue.

Good, it's recording. A few more keystrokes, and a red light flashes. Recording, but not streaming.

His hand sinks back down, applying weight to the arms of the chair. In an instant he's roughly turned the chair to face him. Not a word. He damn near does glance down from Eggsy's face to watch his hand in motion over his clothed dick, but that wouldn't be the point, would it? Hardest thing he's done in weeks, not look down and memorize the sight. ]

That sounds to me like a challenge.

[The rub of fabric still feels nice, pretty good in fact, but it's getting close to being in the too much stage. He slows his movements, he'd really like this to last as long as possible. Eggsy's eyes open at the slight adjustment of the chair, following Merlin as he messes with the keyboard.

The light catches his attention, blue, red, gasping when the chair is spun around, gaze meeting the older man's. He's not smirking, not smug, because he wants this and they've been together long enough that Merlin knows that. No point in pretending, he can read him.]

Was.

[Eggsy's breathing a little heavier, cause it's right now, that point when he's hoping Merlin's going to do all the naughty things he fantasizes about him doing, that turns him on so fucking much. He moves, slow, leisurely, runs the toe of his shoe up the inseam of Merlin's trousers, up and down his calf.]

Only question is what're you gonna do 'bout it?

[ Merlin's breath sucks in the slightest hitch through his nose when Eggsy's foot runs up his leg.

What is he going to do about it? Professionalism be damned, he'll chastise Eggsy about workplace ethics later.

Well, first things first, he's not going to let Eggsy continue to sit in his chair, not after telling him to get on up. He hoists Eggsy up, hands gripping underneath the young man's thighs, leaning the bulk of Eggsy's weight over his shoulder. Harder than it used to be, lifting a grown man up over his shoulder, but not as hard as it could be at his age. He'd doing pretty well, he has to think, all things considered. The chair is kicked out from underneath him, out of the way, before Merlin drops Eggsy back down onto the desk instead.

Were he a less considerate lover, he might have flipped Eggsy over right there, but as it is he leans over, lips brushing against Eggsy's ear, voice hardened and sharpened to a point. ]

On your stomach, Galahad. You asked me a question and I intend to answer it.

[Eggsy grips at Merlin's shoulders and arms best he can, though his movements are awkward. He wasn't expecting to be lifted up in such a way, but he wasn't going to complain, well at least he wasn't until he's abruptly sat back down. Onto the desk. He makes a sound to show his frustration, because he'd much rather be touched or something instead of tossed around and left, but his complaints die in his throat as the older man gets close. Eggsy's voice is just as low, though nowhere near the same tone.]

Maybe I ain't in the mood to be doin' what I'm told.

[He spreads his legs, leans forward, fingertips running across the desk.]

Maybe I don't think you're gonna do anything' 'bout it, cause if you was, I'd already be on my stomach.

[His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, a slight flush staining his cheeks, anticipation causing his pulse to race, and he only hesitates a moment before his hands and legs move, attempting to wrap around the older man's body to pull him in.]

[ His desk isn't so soft as some of the older antiques in other offices. It isn't a Victorian oak or a Georgian elm, but a hard, functional metal. Easy to clean, unlikely to overheat from electrical work. If he flips Eggsy over, the metal won't do a thing to absorb the impact. He might even bruise. Really, it was only considerate for Merlin to give Eggsy the opportunity to do it himself.

If he won't do it though, if he insists on pushing, well that's all on him.

He pries Eggsy's legs off of him, a wordless none of that. God, does Merlin want to fuck him, to feel the familiar pushing of those strong legs against his back, begging for more, but not now. Not when Eggsy is behaving so badly.

(He never used to think he'd get off on someone misbehaving, but then he met Harry; then he met Eggsy. No one can needle him in just that right way like they can. It's almost impressive. ) ]

Cheeky wee bastard, you'll do as your told.

[ That wasn't a request--he wouldn't be gentle if he had to do it himself. ]

[The way Merlin holds back is both exciting ~~arousing~~ and kind of sweet. Most people would have snapped at Eggsy already, been fed up with all his attitude and teasing, but not Merlin. The man has a lot of control; doesn't let the way Eggsy gets to him decide how he'll respond. As much as Eggsy is trying to be a good spy, he still can't read Merlin or Harry all the time, so he can only figure things out slowly as he goes. He's testing things now, always pushing.

Longer in the business, he supposed, but it was kind of thrilling. Maybe he had a thing for the unknown, a danger kink even. His face scrunches up, but he doesn't try to keep his legs around Merlin's hips.]

Merlin.

[Eggsy pushes himself back slightly. He wants to turn over, wants to flip onto his stomach and let Merlin just fuck his brains out, but he also wants to keep on until the man maneuvers Eggsy for himself. He's torn. And then he's not anymore.]

Guess I'll be goin', since you ain't in the mood.

[His voice is low, thick, and he presses his palm to the cool metal table. Everything about the way he holds himself shows that he really wants Merlin to get rough, to not make this sweet or easy, but he's also ready for it, just in case Merlin decides to take him up what he's offering.]

[ It's a case for nurture over nature, Merlin's near inhuman patience. With an angry streak like his, he learned very early on in his life that it paid to be patient instead. Patience is, after all, a product of practice, and he's had fifty two years of it. A major key in all of this is, of course, channeling one's aggression to where it's most useful. The shooting range for example, or chastising cheeky young agents who insist on touching his things.

Eggsy's a damn good actor, he's learned that much already on the job, and in doing so his body language reads like lyric poetry. The green light reads loud and clear and, playing his own part as only he could, Merlin rolls his eyes and grabs Eggsy's shoulder to push him over onto his stomach. He gives Eggsy no satisfaction of his hardening cock against the swell of Eggsy's arse through their layers of clothes. His feet remain just far enough back; he hovers, over Eggsy's hips while his hands hold tight to his hips, and over the shell of his ear, the level quiet continuing unfaltered. ]

No no, I don't think so. You're not going anywhere until you've learned your lesson. Care to tell me what lesson that is, Eggsy?

[Eggsy sees that quick upward flick of Merlin's eyes and he grins, pleased and more than a little thrilled that the older man's decided to humor him like this. He goes onto his stomach easily, lets his body be bent over the desk, props himself up on his elbows. He lets his head drop, forehead pressing to the cold metal.

Fuck, he wants to push his hips back, wants more, but he also wants to see how far he can get this to go.]

That, uh. I shouldn't touch your stuff, yeah?

[He smirks, a breathy and light laugh causing him to shift on the table.]

Or that I shouldn't touch my stuff, while sittin' in your chair.

[Eggsy kicks his legs out in a move meant to unsettle Merlin, perhaps make him fall on top of him. He thinks that if the man feels how warm and solid Eggsy is underneath him that maybe he might forget all about talking and just teach him that lesson.]

Very good.

[ Merlin sidesteps Eggsy's leg easily, and yanks down Eggsy's open jeans and pants together. A gentle caress is in stark contrast to everything else, but comes as the only warning before he brings his flat hand back down hard against the curve of Eggsy's ass. ]

Say it again.

[Eggsy groans, smirks thinking Merlin's going to give him what he wants, exactly how he wants it, but that smirk falls away, a flash of heat shooting through him as Merlin spanks him. Fucking spanks him. Like he's some naughty boy that needs punished and Eggsy is no.. well, yeah, maybe he is, and he has no idea why, but he really, really liked it.]

I shouldn't touch your stuff. W-won't touch your stuff again.

[Which isn't entirely true. Eggsy squirms, wants more but he's not sure how to ask or what.]

'less you're not around.

[ Eggsy is a very naughty boy indeed, and has earned himself another hard smack. ]

Cheeky.

[ He brings his hand down a third time, before letting it rest, a gentle stretching across reddening cheeks. ]

Try that again, lad, what are we not to do?

[It's starting to sting a little, the kind of heat that he knows he'll feel for a couple of days, that'll remind him of what they've done in here.]

Touch your stuff.

[His back arches minutely when he feels that palm, fingers light, resting on sensitive skin.]

Won't touch your stuff no more, yeah?

And?

[ No masturbating in his chair, Eggsy, unless you want to get spanked again. He slides his hand down to cup Eggsy's cock, his palm pressed against the young man's balls. ]

[Now this is where it'd get tricky. He could be honest and say he'd try, though he'd probably fail, or lie and say he wouldn't, when he'd still probably break his word later. The reaction was too much of what he wanted to keep him from not doing this again.]

I'll.. [A sharp inhale, back arching, elbows pressed to the table.] Fuck, I won't wank in your chair either, Merlin.

[ For a moment, Merlin doesn't move. He keeps his hand still around Eggsy's prick, as if he's trying to decide something. He isn't; he already knows exactly how this is going to go. He lets go and leans forward, resting a hand against the edge of his desk and finally pressing his hips against Eggsy's so the line of his cock, hard in his trousers, is flush against Eggsy's red cheeks. He doesn't whisper; he speaks clearly, but quietly into Eggsy's ear. ]

Well that's a shit lie if I've ever heard one.

open post | 4 | kink

Never be sorry for dirty, dirty smut.

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