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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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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.

Dakin's eyebrows raised curiously when he saw just how close to hand Irwin kept everything. "Christ, what do you get up to in here anyway? Or are you always this prepared?" For all Dakin knew he could have been some sort of ex-scout. Always prepared.

"What I get up to in here when you're not here is none of your business," he said, smirking as he started to press forward with one finger. "Are you honestly complaining about me being prepared?"

"I'm curious," Dakin said. He had been about to try to needle Irwin a bit more on the subject, just to see his reaction, but the movement of his hand stopped that. Some things could be just as enjoyable as the pursuit of making Irwin uncomfortable, if not more so.

Edited 2013-03-06 22:33 (UTC)

Pressing his finger inside until it was buried to the knuckle, Irwin leaned down to press a kiss against Dakin's shoulder.

"Sometimes, I fuck in here," he said. "When no-one's around."

Dakin gave a small gasp, making himself relax around Irwin's finger. He pushed back a little, testing. "With Burgess?"

"With Guy, yes," said Irwin, fucking Dakin smoothly, still pressed against his back. "That a problem?"

Dakin shook his head. His breathing was becoming slightly erratic once more. Just how much he enjoyed this was still a little alarming to him. "No. Just curious again."

He starts to press another finger inside Dakin's body, angling his wrist to graze against his prostate.

"Ask me," he says. "I'll answer you."

"Anything?" Dakin asked, his back arching and a groan slipping past his lips.

"Anything," he said, fucking Dakin smoothly now. "I promise."

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