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dakin

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Some things never changed - he was still a teacher, still buried in history, and he still felt like he was drowning in marking. He sighs, reaching for the drink that's at his elbow as he finishes one essay and starts another. It looks like he's on the verge of a long night if he wants to get all of this done.

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"You know it's not," he says, eyes drifting down Dakin's body again, to the curl of his fingers. "Pictured you doing just this, too. Thought about you...sucking my cock. I liked that one."

"I bet you did." Dakin was smiling again, but there was a distinct look in his eyes, a look that said he might at any moment go back to being bored and disappointed with Irwin's choices. "And what else?"

Irwin both hated and was irritated by that look; it was so symptomatic of Dakin as a whole. He tilted his head.

"What do you want me to say? All the times I thought about fucking you? About how I thought I'd do it?"

Dakin shrugged. "I want to hear something interesting." After all, he must have deserved it by that point. And he was the one trying to get off right now. The least Irwin could do was help him along.

"I had this one really elaborate fantasy about you turning up while I was marking essays and letting me fuck you over my desk with the door open. Anyone could have walked in." His fingers ghosted over Dakin's again. "Or you fucking me. It changed. Different things changed."

"Oh fuck." Dakin's hand sped up again, his fingers digging into Irwin's arm for added support. He was close now, so bloody close. "Just how elaborate was this fantasy?" Because he was beginning to give it some serious thought.

"Elaborate," said Irwin, his own breathing speeding to match Dakin's. "What you were wearing...How I'd use my fingers to open you up. The position I'd have you in. The sounds you'd make."

As the older man was speaking, Dakin was making a low whimper in the back of his throat, speeding up even more, his eyes closed tightly. "Tell me more. Just a little more..."

God, that was beautiful. Irwin's hands rested on Dakin's thighs, fingers digging into bare skin over rucked up denim.

"And I'd fuck you hard because that's what you'd want, you arrogant shit," he grinned. "And you'd look beautiful while I was doing." God, his own cock was so hard that he couldn't think past it. "Shove your tie in your mouth because you were so fucking load but you didn't care because you wanted me to finish."

Dakin came with little warning, just a sharp gasp and a tightening of his fingers curled around Irwin's arm. He was still for a long moment afterwards, his head moving down to rest in the crook between Irwin's shoulder and neck, breathing hard and looking remarkably free of his usual self-satisfied awareness.

He barely even noticed the mess, splashed across Dakin's fingers, across his own chest and belly. His hand came up to cup the back of Dakin's neck, cradling him close.

"Jesus."

Dakin was quiet for a while longer, nuzzling against the other man's skin happily. The beginnings of a plan were already taking shape in his head. "Do you want to try?" he finally asked, the words muffled against Irwin's neck.

It took hi a moment to catch up. He raised his eyebrows, fingers combing through Dakin's hair, tip of one against the warm nape of his neck.

"Which?" he asks.

"What you were talking about," Dakin said inbetween nibbling and sucking lightly at skin of his neck. "Why keep it a fantasy? We've got a desk."

"No tie though," he said, tracing his finger around the collar of Dakin's t-shirt. He dragged in a shaky breath. "You really want to? We do have a desk."

Dakin shrugged, laughing a little. "No tie. Guess we will just have to improvise." He pulled back just enough to look at Irwin's face, smiling. "Won't we, sir?"

"Oh, you can't do that," he said, and, for a moment, he's so turned on that his head swims. "You can't bring that up and then call me 'sir' in the same breath."

"Can't I?" Dakin's smile was meant to be innocent, but fell rather deliberately short of it. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Irwin's mouth. "Come on, sir. I'm here. There's a desk. What comes next?"

"Well, I suppose you can," he said, and he couldn't keep his hands off Dakin then, one finger cradling the side of Dakin's face as he turned his head to kiss him properly.

"I strip you," he said, gaze level. "Without closing the door."

Dakin shivered happily at that, anticipating. Things were looking a lot more interesting. "Yeah? Go on, then."

It didn't take much to dislodge Dakin from his lap and then Irwin made quick work of his jeans and shoes. God, just looking at him naked was enough to make Irwin's cock ache.

He leaned in, kissing Dakin hot and wet.

"Fuck, Dakin. Bend over."

Dakin groaned into the kiss, making it last as long as he could before turning to do as Irwin said. He could still remember Irwin saying earlier in the evening that he couldn't take direction. A part of him was now determined to prove him wrong.

The sight was near to perfect and Irwin got distracted for a moment, just looking at the long line of Dakin's back, the curve of his backside. One hand grazes across his thigh.

"You usually say something filthy, right about now," he murmured. "I'm always terrified that someone's going to catch us, even if in a fucking fantasy, but it's never enough to make me stop."

"Come on and fuck me, then," Dakin said, turning his head to fix Irwin with a deliberate look. He could have probably come up with something really filthy if he'd tried, but not then. Next time. "Stop talking and do something about it instead."

"I thought this was supposed to be my fantasy," he said, leaning forward to pull open the drawer in his desk where he's hidden the necessity. A symptom of spending so much time with Guy.

He doesn't waste anymore time before he lubes his fingers, leaning in to press one against Dakin, rubbing slowly.