Chapter Text
“You may leave,” Felix says dismissively, waving a hand in the general direction of the doorway. He isn’t entirely surprised when the chief doesn’t immediately move, but…it is the middle of the day. Surely he has something he ought to be getting back to. “What is it?” He asks anyway after a few more seconds have passed, raising a brow.
“I just…are you sure that was all?” the chief asks, tone deceptively innocent. Felix had very clearly requested he…handle a rival, and now that he’s received the proof that said rival has in fact been handled, well- he hardly needs anything else. But…his gaze drifts to the chief’s mouth. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve fooled around, though Felix generally has a rule against anything inappropriate happening during work hours, particularly in his office where anyone might walk in. But he doesn’t have any appointments for the rest of the afternoon, and it has been a stressful week.
“On your knees,” he says as he makes the decision, settling in his chair once again. “Under the desk, officer,” he adds brusquely, as if ordering him to do literally anything else. The man has taken care of rivals for him and yet- this is so much harder to ask for. “If you’re going to stay, you have to make yourself useful,” he adds, bringing his chair in closer as the chief gets settled. The other man hardly needs the instruction, his hands coming up to rest on Felix’s thighs without any prompting, but it makes Felix feel better, more…controlled, to give it anyway.
He settles back into the chair, spreading his legs as the chief gets his slacks out of the way, and takes a sharp breath when the other man’s fingers brush over him slowly. He’d prefer his mouth, but…as a starter, his fingers are just fine. Felix groans softly and leans in, shifting his hips, when the chief presses one finger into him, mouth hot against the inside of his thighs as he kisses along his skin. He shakes his head and tries to refocus on the paperwork in front of him; he’s seen Arthur do this before, so it can’t be that difficult-but his mind wanders back to the chief as he settles his free hand against the back of his neck, gently keeping him in place.
He’s just about to drop the file folder and give up the pretense of working when the office door suddenly opens and Arthur steps inside, his own manila folder tucked under one arm. “Afternoon, Felix,” he says, offering absolutely no apology for just walking in without knocking beforehand (though he’d surely be furious if Felix did the same to him), and Felix is suddenly faced with a choice. Tell Arthur to get out, that he’s busy-which has a 50/50 chance of working, because Arthur could easily choose to stay out of pure spite-or pretend to actually be busy. And, more importantly, pretend that the chief of police is not currently under his desk, dragging his tongue along Felix’s inner thigh towards his- he gently shoves the other man away, shifting in his chair to try and make himself look less…debauched. More businesslike.
“Arthur,” he says, as the chief ducks out of his light hold and presses a trail of kisses along the inside of his other thigh, teeth just barely scraping the skin. “What are you doing here?” It’s just shy of what do you want, but thankfully the other man sees fit to let that slide, instead helping himself to a glass of the whiskey Felix keeps in his office. The chief presses a second finger into him, and Felix squirms, thankful that Arthur’s back is to him.
“Well, Gerald submitted yet another spreadsheet, so I thought-” Arthur turns back around, and Felix immediately freezes, hoping his pose looks natural. “Are you alright?” the other man asks, brow furrowing. “You look…”
“I’m fine,” Felix interrupts quickly, aiming a light kick at the chief’s ribs. This isn’t happening, he is not about to get caught with someone under his desk- “Perfectly fine,” he repeats, swallowing hard. Arthur studies him for another moment, and Felix has to concentrate very hard on staying still, though what he’d really like to do is grind down against the chief’s fingers. “I just- really, Gerald submitted another spreadsheet,” he continues, hoping he doesn’t sound too distracted.
“Of course he did,” Arthur rolls his eyes, the brief tension thankfully broken. “It’s Gerald, what do you expect? He’d live in a spreadsheet if that was possible.” He settles himself in one of the wingback chairs across the room, crossing his legs as he opens the file and glances down at it. Felix takes the opportunity to move, finally, barely holding back a whimper as the chief’s tongue delves between his legs. He’s unfairly good with his mouth, which is maybe one of the reasons Felix has continued to find little tasks for him, but- right now it’s more of a problem than anything else. “Felix.” Arthur says his name, tone somewhere between sharp and quizzical, and Felix jerks his gaze back to the other man, again forcing himself to remain still. “I know you hate discussing numbers, but are you really…” he trails off, though it’s unclear if he intends the implication alone to mean something (it does not, not to Felix’s distracted brain, anyway), or if he wants Felix to fill in the blank for him, rather than having to say it aloud himself.
“Am I what, exactly,” Felix manages, hating himself for prolonging this conversation instead of just telling Arthur to get out-consequences be damned-and hating Arthur for being here at all, though that isn’t really fair since he’d had no way of knowing that he was about to choose the worst possible moment to barge in, and- hell, if he’d been only a few minutes earlier, he would’ve simply caught the chief as he was leaving, and that certainly wouldn’t have been too suspicious, but instead- He barely stifles a gasp, fighting the dueling urges to squirm closer and grind himself down on the chief’s mouth and fingers and to pull back, push him away and try to regain some semblance of composure and control. Arthur stands, leaving the folder on the arm of the chair as he crosses the room again towards Felix, expression impossible to read.
“Felix,” he says quietly, leaning down to rest his hands on the edge of the desk as a small smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “Which of your one-night stands do you have under the desk right now?” Arthur asks softly, as casually as if he’s asking about something entirely innocuous and business-related. Felix thinks about denying it, about trying to continue the charade, but there’s nothing stopping Arthur from rounding the desk to see for himself, and if Felix cooperates, if Felix is good for him, well. He isn’t even entirely sure what he might be hoping for, but he’s pretty sure behaving himself means he’s more likely to get it.
“I wouldn’t say he’s a one-night stand,” he answers, keeping his voice as steady as possible. The chief pulls away as he speaks, making it a little easier for him, and Felix can’t help feeling grateful, though he hadn’t truly ever doubted that the other man would support whatever route he decided to take. “You can join us if you’re going to be nice about it,” he adds, meeting Arthur’s gaze as he pushes his chair back from the desk slowly, giving Arthur a rather good view of what, exactly, he has interrupted. Felix forces himself to stay both still and quiet as Arthur’s expression changes, ending up somewhere between intrigued and taken aback; he has to fight against the instinctive wave of shame, both at having been caught and, more specifically, at how, exactly, he’d been caught.
“Well,” Arthur says after a lengthy pause, his gaze moving slowly back up to Felix’s face. “If you’re desperate enough to ask the help to get you off, I suppose you won’t mind me joining you,” he continues. Felix’s face heats with a blush even as he nods; he does want Arthur to join them, no matter (or perhaps because of) how humiliating it might be. Arthur smirks as if he’d expected that response and says, “Get up, then. Wait for me by the couch.” Felix hurriedly fixes his slacks before he obeys, crossing the room and turning back just in time to watch the chief stand up from where he’d been half-hidden under the desk. He doesn’t look apologetic, exactly, which is good- Felix will still have to have another talk with Arthur about referring to him as the help, but at least it seems as though the other man hadn’t taken the comment to heart. He shifts as if he’s going to take a step in Felix’s direction, but Arthur halts him with a hand on his wrist.
Felix can feel his heartbeat quicken as Arthur leans in to say something quietly in the chief’s ear; he has no hope of actually hearing anything, but leans forward anyway, as if that might help. After a beat, the chief nods. Arthur says something else, and the chief nods again, and then Arthur has released him and the chief is crossing the room to Felix, a little smile on his face as their eyes meet. Felix has to stop himself from asking what, exactly, that had been about (he will undoubtedly have better luck with that later, when Arthur has left) and instead allows the chief to pull him into a kiss, all tongue and teeth so that Felix loses himself in it easily. He jumps, startled, when Arthur’s hand lands on his lower back, and pulls back from the chief so that he can turn his head questioningly. Arthur smiles. “I know you’d like to have both of us, wouldn’t you,” he says, managing to turn the question into more of a statement.
Felix’s heart skips a beat and he swallows hard, hating how easy it is, as always, for Arthur to get such a reaction from him. He would like to have both of them, and Arthur knows it. “Yes,” he says softly, and Arthur’s smile widens.
“Undress and get on the couch,” he orders, and Felix scrambles to obey, fingers clumsy on the button of his slacks. Ordinarily he would be more hesitant, uncertainty warring with desire; he has never much liked being naked, being seen, even by Arthur-especially when Arthur often chooses to remain almost fully clothed himself-but right now he can’t bring himself to pause. “Good,” Arthur says, almost distractedly, as Felix arranges himself on the couch. It’s not a very comfortable piece of furniture, purchased more for looks than for actual functionality, but he’s hardly going to voice any complaints. He looks up again just in time to watch the chief draw Arthur closer by his tie, his grip undoubtedly both firm and gentle, and pull him into a kiss.
For a second Felix is certain Arthur is going to shove him away furiously, demand to know who’d given the chief permission to do that, but- after a heartbeat, his shoulders relax and he deepens the kiss, obviously attempting to regain control. Felix lets out a soft whimper without quite meaning to, unable to help himself; he has not seen Arthur kiss someone else before, not like this, and the sight is both electrifying and possibly one of the sexiest things he’s ever watched. He can’t bring himself to look away, and manages to blink only when the chief pulls back slowly and looks over at him, lips curving up into a smile again. “I think Felix is feeling a little left out,” he says softly, and after a beat Arthur nods and moves to settle beside Felix on the couch, smoothing a hand over the cushion as if removing imaginary lint.
Felix stays still until Arthur reaches for him, and then he goes easily, straddling his lap and feeling how gratifyingly hard he is already. He shifts his hips teasingly and smiles at the soft gasp Arthur lets out, hands tightening their grip on his hips. After another moment, the chief settles on the couch beside them, and Felix looks over at him. “Perhaps you should finish what you were doing with him,” Arthur says, trailing a hand down over Felix’s chest slowly. The chief nods, and then Arthur is shifting Felix back off of his lap and coaxing him to lay down instead, scooting out of the way so that Felix’s head ends up on his lap, the rest of him displayed on the couch in a nervewracking way he tries not to think too closely about. He tries to focus instead on the feeling of Arthur’s hand carding through his hair, though he knows he will have to gel it back into place again after this is all over, and lets out a pleased little sigh when the chief touches him, fingers gentle on his thighs.
The other man doesn’t hesitate before resuming where he’d left off, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to coax soft noises and sighs from Felix. He lets himself grind down against the chief this time, panting softly and closing his eyes to avoid seeing what Arthur might think about this little display. He has wanted this, wanted them here, together, for so long-but wanting is far different from actually having, and he’s finding it difficult to focus, to keep his mind from straying and anxiety from creeping in, now that this is actually happening.
Felix comes with a startled cry, back arching as his climax crashes over him. He hadn’t been focused enough to realize how close he’d been, hadn’t expected it, and he feels his cheeks warm with a blush as the chief pulls back. But the other man doesn’t look stern or judgemental, just leans up to kiss him gently, the taste of Felix still on his tongue. “Please,” Felix half-whispers after a moment, unsure what exactly he’s even asking for-but the chief just smiles and gently pulls him back up into a sitting position before kissing him again. Felix deepens the kiss eagerly, pressing closer and fumbling for the button on the chief’s slacks, trying to help him get them off; after another few moments the chief pulls back again to help him, lifting his hips slightly to slide his trousers out of the way. Felix settles on his lap eagerly as soon as he’s finished, reaching down to stroke his cock teasingly.
“Are you going to be good for us?” the chief asks, pressing kisses along Felix’s jaw, and he nods, trying and failing to hide his own excitement. Part of him is absolutely certain that, when he glances over his shoulder at Arthur, he will find the other man sullen and silent, coming up with an excuse to end the encounter now-but when he does look, Arthur is unbuttoning his own slacks and freeing his cock from the confines of his boxers. Felix whines without quite meaning to, the sound escaping entirely unbidden, and pulls the chief into another kiss before he can comment. He doesn’t startle this time when one of Arthur’s hands comes to rest just above the chief’s on his waist, his grip as steady as ever despite the nervousness Felix is certain he must be feeling. “Did you want to go first?” The chief asks, his gaze meeting Arthur’s over Felix’s shoulder; for a heartbeat Felix thinks the question is ridiculous, because it’s Arthur, and Arthur always wants to be first, but then the other man drops his head to press soft, chaste kisses along Felix’s shoulder, and he realizes that Arthur has said no in the same moment that the chief pulls him closer, pulls him into a kiss.
Felix kisses him back as he reaches down to position his cock, sinking down onto him slowly with a soft groan. The chief groans too, obviously making an effort to stay still rather than bucking up into him like he probably wants to. Felix allows himself only a few moments to adjust before he looks over his shoulder at Arthur, trying not to look as eager as he feels. “Are you sure? I’m not going to hurt you?” Arthur asks softly, and Felix smiles.
“No. You’re not going to hurt me,” he responds, half wishing he’d chosen to face Arthur instead of the chief, if only to encourage him, make it clear exactly how much he wants this. Not that this isn’t good, too, he mentally amends as the chief shifts, thrusting shallowly. “Arthur,” he says softly, not quite begging-not yet-but making it clear that he wants this. After another heartbeat, Arthur shifts closer, his chest against Felix’s back as he positions himself, and Felix whines at just the suggestion of it, the head of Arthur’s cock barely teasing his entrance. “Please,” he whispers, and now he is begging, though it’s only been a minute or so. “Arthur, please,” he repeats, and then lets out a breathy whine in tandem with Arthur’s quiet groan as he eases into him slowly.
Arthur’s cock is only halfway into him when his second orgasm hits him like a train, leaving him shuddering and clenching around them both. The chief’s hands are almost tight enough to bruise on his hips, and Felix shudders again, letting his head fall back onto Arthur’s shoulder as he moans. Felix sees stars when the chief rocks his hips gently, almost experimentally, and Arthur groans, shifting his own hips in response. The pleasure-pain of being so full is overwhelming, and Felix can’t think, can’t move, can only rest most of his weight back against Arthur and take it as they attempt to find a rhythm, every move sending a wave of sparks up his spine.
He is dimly aware of the chief leaning over him to kiss Arthur again as they fuck him, mouths meeting in a clash of tongue and teeth as their barely-established rhythm stutters again, both of them approaching their own climaxes. Felix comes again as he watches them, panting and shuddering so that they pause in the kiss to steady him, their hands gentle on his thighs and waist. He hears them talking again softly, but his awareness is dim and muddled, as if through a physical haze of bliss, and he can’t make his brain focus enough to actually understand anything being said; after another few moments they are kissing again and Felix allows himself to drift again. It could be another moment or an hour before they come, almost in tandem, fingers tangling against Felix’s waist; he lets out a soft whine and then the chief’s free hand is moving down over his stomach, thumb brushing against his clit, and then Felix is gone, eyes rolling back in his head as he comes again.
When he returns, slowly, to consciousness, he is still on the couch, his head in the chief’s lap this time and his shins across Arthur’s. He has no real idea of how long he’s been out, though apparently it was long enough for the pair of them to get dressed again. When he looks down at himself, he finds that they’d apparently made an attempt at dressing him, too, though his shirt is wrinkled and untucked, and they hadn’t bothered with socks or shoes. “Hi,” the chief says softly, and Felix looks up at him again. “How was that?” he asks, obviously half-teasing.
“Fantastic,” he answers with a smile.