Work Text:
Butcher didn’t stop by Hughie’s work often. Sometimes, when Butcher had a case in the neighborhood, he’d stop by with a cup of disgusting black coffee for Hughie, and ask him if he had any plans that night (then to come over if he didn’t) then whisk off into the streets before Hughie could say anything else. Hughie had Butcher’s card, could go to his office, but Hughie never did. Sometimes when he was on the train and he heard the stop near Butcher's place of business, Hughie had the urge to get off and go see Butcher for real. But Hughie knew that crossed a boundary. Butcher was allowed to go to Hughie’s work but not his home, and Hughie could go to Butcher’s apartment but not his office. It was better for them like this. Better to keep their fucking locations to a minimum, so when this thing inevitably blew up, there wouldn’t be too many memories across New York of their fucking. Hughie knew this thing with Butcher would come to an end sooner or later. The question was when and how many orgasms Hughie could get out of it before it was over. Hughie wasn’t ready to go back to his right hand anytime soon now that he’d gotten a taste of Butcher.
So it was a bit of a surprise when Butcher walked into Hughie’s work at three in the afternoon, after the lunch rush and before the evening buyers, and turned the open sign to close. Hughie looked up from the comic book he was reading and frowned when Butcher started to turn the blinds.
“What are you doing?”
“Thought I’d pop in for a quickie.”
Hughie raised a brow. “You’re kidding.”
“‘Fraid not, princess, I’ve got thirty minutes to kill and I know just how to occupy myself.”
“Butcher, I’m busy, I can’t fuck right now.”
Butcher sauntered over to the counter and picked at Hughie’s comic. “What? With this? Come on, now, I’ll be quick about it.”
“I’m at work. There are cameras here.”
“Then turn off the cameras.” Butcher tugged Hughie over the counter with his lanyard to whisper in his ear, “Unless you want to be recorded. Yeah?”
“God no.” Hughie reached down and turned off the cameras. “Fuck, okay. Did you at least bring some lube?”
“‘Course I brought fucking lube, now get over here.”
He crossed to the other side of the display and Butcher immediately pushed Hughie over the glass, so his ass was flush against Butcher’s crotch and his face smushed in glass.
“Could you maybe stop fucking me in hard places?” Hughie asked.
“What, you need a pillow, princess?”
“That would be nice,” Hughie told him. His request wasn’t unreasonable. Hughie was going to break a hip if Butcher kept trying to fuck him on kitchen counters, alley walls, and one time, over a stairwell. He much preferred their fucks in bed. Af least then, Hughie wouldn’t need to see a chiropractor.
It didn’t matter though because Butcher’s hands were on his ass, rubbing him all over and trying to spread his cheeks under denim. Fuck. Hughie reached underneath him and unbuckled himself, rolling his pants down. Butcher didn’t help him go past his thighs. The fucker liked trapping Hughie with his own jeans. Butchers hands, warm and big, reached down to spread Hughie’s cheeks. Hughie shivered at the cold.
“Fuck, never get tired at seeing this,” Butcher told him. One of his thumbs, dry and thick, rubbed at his pucker, teasing at going in, but never doing so. “Can’t wait to get inside. Make your cunt all wet for me, princess.”
Hughie rolled his eyes. “Are you going to stare at it all day or fuck me? Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Butcher tsked and dropped his hands. When they returned, there was lube there, wet and cold. Butcher rubbed one finger at his entrance, over and over again until Hughie whined and Butcher pressed in. Hughie cursed and buried his head in his arms. Butcher worked one finger in with sure movements. Butcher never gave Hughie the time to breathe about it, never going slow. With Butcher, it was all efficient. If he wanted Hughie to have three fingers up his ass, Hughie would have three fingers up his ass. And Butcher was thick too. Hughie liked extra lube, but Butcher was a firm believer in moderation. That was, until, Hughie was a big fucking mess and was driving back on his fingers, needy and more than eager. Then Butcher would chuckle, remove his fingers, then add more lube so Hughie was that much wetter, that much looser.
“Jesus,” Hughie cursed, when Butcher curled his fingers and pressed at that bundle of nerves. Hughie was going to cum on the display counter if Butcher kept rubbing at him like that. Fuck, he was on the display counter. Fuck, he was getting fucked at his work. He hoped to god that nanny cam had been turned off. Butcher chuckled when he twisted his knuckles and made Hughie whine, leaning over Hughie to kiss the back of his neck, beard rough on his skin. “Fuck, Butcher—get in me. Now, please.”
“With or without a rubber?” Butcher asked, fingers pulling out of Hughie. Hughie groaned at the loss. And at the tease. Butcher had kept one of his fingers just at his entrance, tugging at the hole, reminding him how stretched and full he’d been on Butcher’s fingers.
“With! Are you fucking kidding me?” Hughie glared over his shoulder, catching Butcher staring down at his ass, playing with his hole. “I’m not about to walk around with cum leaking out of my ass at work.”
“Touchy, touchy,” Butcher tsked, patting at Hughie’s butt. Hughie jolted at the touch. “Now you’re giving me ideas…”
“Jesus Christ,” Hughie moaned, face falling back into his arms. Butcher spread Hughie’s cheeks again, no fingers this time. He stepped back slightly, getting a good luck at his handiwork. Hughie was really fucking glad his face was hidden because that shit was embarrassing, how Butcher hummed in approval at the sight of him. Butcher was taking too long. “Please, just fuck me already, man.”
Butcher smacked his cheek slightly, “So impatient, Hughie.”
Hughie swallowed his moan, hips caught in an abortive thrust. He was not about to let Butcher know about this kink. It was bad enough they were fucking at Hughie’s job, this would make Butcher’s day.
Butcher caught on anyway. He rubbed a thumb into the skin of his butt, feeling the globes there. “You like that, princess? Want me to do it again?”
Hughie shook his head. “Please,” he said, voice going low and serious, “please, fuck me.”
Butcher didn’t say anything. Hughie heard the sounds of a zipper go down and the unmistakable tear of a condom wrapper opening. Butcher’s hands returned to Hughie’s ass and spread him open again, blunt head of his cock pressing into him. Hughie moaned as Butcher slid into him, going slow at first, then picking up speed in his thrusts as soon as his hips were flush with Hughie’s ass. Butcher didn’t say anything to Hughie as he fucked him, but his face came up to Hughie’s ear so he could hear the low rumbles of Butcher’s voice. Hughie panted as Butcher fucked him, trying to meet his thrusts, but getting caught by his jeans, the counter, Butcher’s thighs. It felt too good flushed against Butcher even if Hughie’s hips scraped against the glass every few thrusts.
Butcher pulled Hughie up so he was standing, pushing him further onto his dick, hitting a different angle. Butcher’s hands went from Hughie’s hips, to under his shirt and up to the space under his ribs, then back down to scratch at Hughie’s happy trail. Hughie shivered at the sensations, at the sensitive skin under Butcher’s nails. His hands landed on the glass and he didn’t know what to do with his head. Lean it back against Butcher’s shoulder or let it fall forward so Butcher’s mouth could get at his neck? Hughie didn’t need to decide because Butcher reached down to rub at Hughie’s cock and Hughie fell onto the display, elbows hitting glass, ass pushed back on Butcher’s dick. Butcher laughed at that, hand having disappeared from Hughie’s cock to fall back on Hughie’s ass, thumb dipping down to rub at his opening were Butcher’s cock was already there.
“Sensitive are we.”
Hughie didn’t say anything, just let him get caught in the sensation of Butcher’s thumb pressing at his hole. Was he going to put it in? Did Hughie want him to put it in? His head was swimming in endorphins and he had no fucking idea if Butcher’s fingers alongside his cock inside Hughie would feel even better or make things worse. Hughie reached down to tug at his aching dick, trying to pull himself closer to the edge.
That was when Butcher slapped his ass.
“Holy fuck—” Hughie shouted, hips jerking at the sting. Fuck, fuck, fuck—
“No touching,” Butcher told him. “I get to decide when you get off.”
Hughie couldn’t take it anymore. “Please, please—”
“I still got,” Butcher paused for a moment, hips still driving into Hughie, “fifteen minutes with your arse and I’m not about to let it go to waste because you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
Hughie shook his head, moaning when Butcher’s hands fell on his ass again. “Please,” Hughie begged, voice losing itself, “again, again.”
“Again?” Butcher asked, voice confused. He fucked Hughie harder, trying to make Hughie groan. But that wasn’t what Hughie wanted, no, no. “Like this?” Butcher slammed into him, cock digging into his prostate and making Hughie keen, but that wasn’t what he wanted.
Hughie shook his head. He couldn’t say it. Fuck no. But he needed it, needed it more than Hughie needed to cum right now. He reached behind him, eyes closing, cheeks burning, and grabbed Butcher’s hand on his ass, digging it into the sting Butcher had left on him and moaning when he felt that sting prickle up his spine. “Please,” Hughie begged, hand falling away.
Butcher’s hands tightened around his asscheeks. Fuck. Yes. Yes—
Butcher’s hips kept moving, powerful thrusts making Hughie shake, but this time Butcher raised one hand and brought it down on Hughie’s ass in one firm slap. His mind went blank, but his hips jerked back and his ass squeezed tight around Butcher's cock.
“Fucking hell,” Butcher gasped, doing it again. Hughie keened. Butcher slapped Hughie’s ass in firm strokes. “Fuck. Always knew you needed a spanking, princess. Fuck, so tight for me.” Hughie nodded and pushed his ass back, trying to get Butcher to do it again. And Butcher did do it again, and again, spanking Hughie until his ass was red and his hole was so tight not even Butcher’s fingers could get in there. Hughie’s dick was heavy between his legs, ready to cum at any moment. He just—Butcher had said—he was waiting for Butcher’s say so. Hughie could do what Butcher asked. Hughie could be good for Butcher, so good. Butcher’s grunts were speeding up, as were the force of his thrusts, the slaps faltering as Butcher got distracted by his own impeding orgasm. “Fuck, you’re so tight, Hughie. S’good.” Butcher reached around to wrap a hand around Hughie. “And you haven’t even cum. Good boy.” Hughie moaned. “I’m almost there,” Butcher told him, fucking him faster. “You gonna cum for me?” Butcher’s hand jerked Hughie off in firm strokes, his mouth firm against Hughie’s neck. “Come on, Hughie, cum for me.” His strokes were firm, tight, Hughie was this close to cumming.
Then Butcher’s other hand reached down to press at his stinging cheeks again, spread him out so Hughie could really feel how open and good he was taking Butcher’s cock. Butcher twisted his wrist and Hughie was gone, cumming all over the glass counter and moaning like he’d just met god. Butcher came too, teeth digging into the side of Hughie’s neck and sinking as far into Hughie’s ass as he could.
They stayed like that, locked in their sweaty, sticky mess, Butcher covering him with his body. Hughie didn’t want to know what it felt like with Butcher out of him, he wanted to stay like that forever, joined, whole. Fuck, his head was swimming in a foggy sea of endorphins.
When his eyes finally peeled open and Butcher was shifting inside of him, Hughie noticed the blinking red dot on the side of his computer.
Fuck, he hadn’t actually turned off the cameras. Fuck.
Butcher chuckled and nuzzled at Hughie’s ears, a tell-tale grin in his voice. “Smile, darling, you’re on camera.”
Fuck.