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Doc had his sketchpad open to a blank page, but he lazily traced the end of his pen across the lines of muscle on Patterson’s chest, slipping it through one of the nipple rings and giving a slow pull. He was supposed to be drawing up a pair of designs for some mutual friends that had enough matching couples’ ink to choke a goddamn My Little Pony, but he had gotten focused on Bryan’s skin instead. Green and fading purple bruises circled his ribcage from the last boxing match he’d entered (decimating everyone in his age class, obviously); geometric black tattoos swept down each shoulder and along his biceps; and a trail of dark hair led south to Patterson’s half-hard dick. Patterson’s mug made a quiet clank as he set it on the bedside table when Doc took him into his mouth; Doc figured he might as well get something useful done while he brainstormed. They had all afternoon to make Doc’s jaw ache, their friends would understand if the tattoo art came a few days late…
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“Jesus power bottoming Christ,” Doc gasped. “You toppy bastard.”
Nate huffed a laugh as he held Doc’s mouth to his nipple, making him lick across it; his other hand was curled tight around Brad’s hip in a silent order to fuck him until he said stop. Patterson smiled approvingly, nodding at Nate and sliding into Doc’s ass with a brutally slow stroke that made Doc moan against Nate’s wet skin.
Doc’s hand crept onto Nate’s stomach, drifting lower until he closed his fist around Nate’s dick. A slap and an annoyed grunt sounded out, and Doc chuckled, voice cracking as Patterson’s cock thrust deep.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying, Brad,” Doc said, watching the precome bead at the head of Nate’s cock.
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Patterson ran his fingers through the curly mop of hair bent over him, long-fingered hands inking his chest over his heart. The burn of the needle stopped as his tattooist trembled, hot breath coming in puffs across Patterson’s skin, the young man’s bare back arching as his boyfriend’s tongue thrust into his hole.
“I don’t think I can— It’s going to come out all wonky if I… oh fuck,” he said, resting his forehead against Patterson’s stomach, tongue darting to lick the head of Patterson’s dick.
“You can and you will,” the boyfriend said, his words coming out jagged as Doc plowed into him, his own tattoo fresh on his pec.
Patterson reached between their bodies and stroked himself as the needle marked him.
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“You do recall that we’re here because I need to visit the firm’s London branch, not because it’s fun to defile their apartment,” Patterson said, but he didn’t let up on Doc’s dick. He had Doc face-first over the countertop of their friends’ kitchen, reaching beneath him to stroke him off; his erection was hard against Doc’s ass.
“Fuck work,” Doc gritted out. “My only priority is holding off until they walk in here.”
Doc convulsed with pleasure when, as if on command, the front door clicked open and two sets of eager eyes ran across his half-naked body. Hot loops of come painted their hosts’ floor when Patterson slapped Doc’s ass for good measure.
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Patterson had to put the phone down next to them on the couch, fumbling to hit the speakerphone button; he needed to get his hands on Doc. The sound of a slap, hand on ass, came crackling over the line and Doc whined, crawling up on the couch and presenting his ass to Patterson.
“That’s it, love,” came over the phone with a muffled cry of pleasure from their friends; this was taking phone sex to the next goddamn level and Patterson couldn’t resist grabbing two handfuls of Doc’s ass and forcing his tongue into Doc’s hole.
“Fuck,” Doc gasped; another slap, this time followed by a low moan and the rhythmic sound of deep, fast fucking.
Patterson pushed a finger, then another, into Doc’s ass, lubing up fast and shoving his painfully hard cock into Doc; Doc hissed and a yell of pleasure came from the other end of the line.
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“Lay down,” Patterson said quietly, stroking his fingers along Doc’s shoulder and taking the remote from him to turn the Heat vs. Bulls game down to a low murmur.
“I was watching that,” Doc grumbled, but he followed Patterson’s instructions, stretching out on the couch on his back and looking up at Patterson with deep, wordless affection… and no small measure of “you’d better make this worth my time” in his eyes.
“Read the highlights tomorrow,” Patterson said, kissing Doc softly, letting the tip of his tongue brush the tip of Doc’s as he leaned over him. Patterson stripped off Doc’s shirt and pants slowly, laying light touches of his lips across his skin as he went; he pulsed his thigh against Doc’s dick until they were both fully hard and panting. “That’s right, Tim. Suck it like that,” Patterson breathed as he slid his thumb into Doc’s mouth and jacked off across his chest, come mingling with Doc’s as he jerked below him.
Patterson’s eyes clamped shut when the wet warmth of Doc’s mouth descended on his dick; there was no way he could keep up the rhythm he’d established on Doc’s cock, and he panted around it on his tongue. Doc cupped Patterson’s balls and Patterson moaned; the slurping sounds were almost too fucking much.
“Break you?” Doc pulled off long enough to ask and then went back at Patterson’s dick again with a goddamn vengeance; he swung his hips slightly to get Patterson’s attention.
Patterson moaned again, but managed to focus the sharp intensity of it all into sucking Doc’s sarcasm right the fuck out of him via his cock; he was rewarded with a quick intake of breath around his own dick that made his balls rise. Salty precum leaked onto his tongue and he took two handfuls of Doc’s ass.
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“Jesus fucking Christ!” Ray yanked on the cord of his headphones and pulled them off his ears, then he could clearly see and hear what was going on in the office even if he wasn’t sure he completely understood it.
“Strip down or get the fuck out,” Doc growled; Patterson ignored Ray in favor of pounding Doc into the desk, but Doc stared at Ray like he was going to tackle him to the floor if Patterson just let go of his hips for a second.
Ray gaped and then turned around and walked out. He was still slack-jawed when he got downstairs. Walt took one look at his face and the direction he came from, and he started laughing.
“Doc and Patterson?”
Ray’s head bobbled on his neck in a sort of nod. Holy fuck, what did he just witness… there had been a thing… and the other two guys… and upside down?
“I’ve been there,” Walt said, and Ray wondered what the fuck that was supposed to mean.
Under a cut for sounding.
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Both of them were itching for some kind of human contact to replace the usual solitary, perfunctory jack in their ranger graves that only served to take the edge off. Patterson pushed Doc against an office wall with a soft thud and humped their groins together, wanting as much to get Doc off as to get himself off; the heat of the friction and the ever-present risk of being discovered had adrenaline ratcheting their heartrates up, and every heartbeat squeezed Patterson’s balls maddeningly.
A day’s growth of stubble peppered both of their faces; Doc’s moustache brushed against Patterson’s earlobe and sent a pulse of pleasure to his dick as Doc pumped him fast. They jacked each other off in silence, trousers only open far enough to get fists inside; lips only open far enough to slip the tips of their tongues past each other as they panted. Doc came with Bryan’s name in a whisper; Patterson came with his hand fisted in Doc’s shirt and his eyes on Doc’s full lips.
