Work Text:
As far as you were concerned, trying to understand just what Kiku Honda was thinking was a real headache.
Not that his performance had ever been any cause for concern. A member of IT, your subordinate simply could not be faulted on that front. Not one week after joining the company, he had got to grips with the system so quickly that he was more familiar with it than even the most experienced of his colleagues. Those coding errors that would take someone else two hours just to understand, he could solve in seconds. And no matter the day of the week or the time of the day, he never failed to reply to his emails in an instant. You sometimes wondered if he ever actually slept.
But it was outside of this that the problems arose. Sometimes, when you went to the gym after work, colleagues would complain to you about how hard ‘the Japanese guy’ was to understand. It wasn’t that they found him annoying, but they just couldn’t wrap their heads around him. He was reticent yet mindful, respectful but aloof, good at being implicit and yet straightforward without compare. Some of their complaints, you thought, were a bit over the top. But you too had experienced their frustrations first-hand, as well as the fact that he was… subtle. Every time you tried to make conversation, Kiku Honda would simply refuse to meet your eyes, as though any attention from you was far too much hassle to be dealing with. And yet, after going a while without speaking to him, whenever he thought you wouldn’t notice—across the office, between the display screens and dividers; a fleeting glance as you brushed past each other in the kitchen—Kiku’s gaze would return your way.
Simply put, he was hard to deal with. And yet, you weren’t you particularly worried. You had long since dreamt up a “Guide to Everyday Conversation with Kiku Honda”, one tenet of which was this: nothing your subordinate said or did could be taken at face value.
Which was why, now, with you gripping his wrists, pinning him against the wall, whether or not the way he was looking at you ought to be taken as rejection—well, even that was uncertain.
“Wang-san.”
He spoke with a warning tone, but his voice wavered slightly at the end, and his pulse had started to race. Even then, you still couldn’t say for certain what he was thinking. Wanting to find out, you stepped closer, nuzzling at the small sliver of neck that was exposed from the collar of his shirt.
“Wang-san, wh-what are you—”
You would never have acted this way with any of your former subordinates, no matter how pretty they had been. Work was work, feelings were feelings. You knew that. And what was happening right now was something even you hadn’t seen coming.
The collar of Kiku’s shirt smelled nice, not like detergent, but instead a bit like the neatly folded old clothes in your grandmother’s wardrobe. That sense of familiarity made you hesitant to do what you wanted to do next. You stepped back a bit, and, looking him in the eyes, said: “If you want me to stop, tell me.”
Kiku’s eyes were glittering, like ripples at the bottom of a well.
“I mean it. If you want me to stop, tell me. Push me if you like. We can act like this never happened.”
You were serious, but for some reason, upon hearing this, Kiku started to tremble. You relaxed your grip. One hand now free, Kiku pushed briefly at your elbow, but there was no force to it, and he was still gripping your sleeve, leaving you just as uncertain about what he actually wanted as before.
You were standing in the printer room—a small, half-open space that didn’t even have a door, just a two-metre-high stack of cardboard boxes that did nothing to hide you from anyone who might be walking past. If you spoke any louder, you’d be heard.
You repeated yourself in a whisper, and Kiku’s ears turned red.
Alright then.
You dipped your head, tracing slowly over his neck with your lips and tongue. His skin had a light flavour to it, and he was slightly cooler than you were. You moved up his neck to suck at his flushed earlobe. Kiku desperately swallowed back a short gasp.
“Can I?” you asked softly, whispering into his ear. This time it was just for confirmation, nothing more.
Kiku simply shut his eyes. The look on his face made you feel like you were taking sexual favours from him. The thought made you feel a bit cheated, but you couldn’t help feeling a bit amused, too. You sucked gently at his earlobe once more, one hand sliding down to rest on his waist, the other moving to loosen his tie. Kiku always wore a suit to work, and, even on the hottest of days, a tie, too, despite the fact that you had told him over and over that he didn’t need to. You undid a button or two and were surprised to run your hand over warm, smooth skin. He wasn’t wearing an undershirt.
“Ah… no… please don’t…” he finally spoke. It sounded like he was begging.
You kissed his throat, and the begging turned into whimpering. Button by button, Kiku was revealed before you. He was pale and slender, his skin reflecting the pallid gleam of the light above, and he was sweating lightly. His nipples were a pale pink, and as you played with them through the front of his open shirt, they became hard and taut, the outlines now clearly visible through the smooth fabric. You took the right one in your mouth and sucked, teasing it once or twice with your tongue. It was only like this that you could hear the surprised cries that Kiku was holding back.
“Since when did you get like this?” you asked in a low voice, looking up at him, your lips grazing over the wet patch of skin on his chest. “Do you always get like this when you look at me? Hm?”
You reached down to rub Kiku’s growing erection, the shape of which was now clearly visible through his trousers.
Kiku didn’t make a sound. Despite this, you could hear his heart beating like a drum, his chest rising and falling in time with it.
You had originally wanted Kiku to take his belt off himself, but seeing him like that, you decided (with some disappointment) that it was probably just easier if you did it yourself. You deftly removed Kiku’s belt, rolled it up and placed it on the printer. You straightened up.
“Turn around,” you said, looking him straight in the eyes. “Hold on to the boxes. Tightly.”
Kiku looked at you like you were mad.
A partition wall was all that separated you from the corridor. Anyone could look in and see what you were up to. And who knew when someone would want to come in and print something? Kiku was watching you, his thoughts written clearly on his face.
“Turn around.”
Kiku swallowed hard and, as instructed, slowly turned around. He held onto the boxes, afraid to grip too hard lest he made them fall. His hands and knees were trembling.
He lowered his head and whispered. “Please don’t go too hard…”
Of course you wouldn’t. You fished around in your pockets for your tin of Vaseline. Using it like this of all things was certainly unexpected. Without the belt to hold them up, Kiku’s grey trousers had collected loosely around his hips, and you pulled them down easily, taking his underwear along with them. Before applying the lubricant, you spat on your hand and ran it very gently over Kiku’s erection. “Relax.”
It didn’t take long before Kiku was hard. You smeared Vaseline onto your other hand and cupped Kiku’s backside, the tips of your fingers teasing his entrance and perineum. Kiku gasped and jumped, his shoulder blades becoming briefly visible through his shirt. You suddenly realised that your mouth was dry. You wet your lips and tried to push in a finger.
“Ah!”
He was still tense, so much so that you could barely fit your finger in—evidently he wasn’t used to this sort of thing. You sighed to yourself and held him from behind. “Kiku?”
It was the first time you had called him by his name. Kiku shivered, taken by surprise, or maybe it was something else, you couldn’t tell.
You kissed the back of his neck, then his shoulders. Kiku slowly relaxed around your finger, his inside soft and hot, exactly as you had imagined. You stretched him as patiently as you could: first one finger, then two. Time seemed to have stopped around you. The noise of the office was a whole world away; here, there was only silence—silence, and the sounds of your drawn-out breathing. Finally, you found Kiku’s prostate. He raised his head and craned his neck. “Ah!”
The stack of boxes rocked dangerously. Kiku stiffened up again, his muscles contracting as though to draw you in. You rubbed it firmly a few times. The Vaseline seemed to be working quite well. Kiku held desperately onto the boxes, his thighs shaking so much that it seemed he wouldn’t be able to support himself any longer. On several occasions, it seemed as though he wanted to look around, but he never did, and all the while, he was moaning your surname: Wang-san, Wang-san, Wang-san.
You were so hard you were going to explode.
“Spread your legs a bit more,” you whispered, and this time, Kiku didn’t hesitate. You opened your flies and pulled out your cock, lubricating it with a few strokes of your hand, and pushed in the head. It was much thicker than your fingers had been, and you could feel Kiku becoming taut once again, the muscles gripping you tight, relaxing and then tensing up rapidly as though he was trembling. You lifted the back of his shirt and placed your hands on his waist. You had only wanted to help him relax, but without you realising it, the action became something else: Kiku’s muscles and ribs were rising and falling under the palms of your hands like gentle waves, drawing you upwards until you were pinching his nipples.
“Don’t…” he said in that pleading tone.
You pulled them with your finger and thumb until they were hard. Kiku bit his lip and let out a cry, and at the same time suddenly relaxed, taking most of you in. You gasped, heaving long breaths as you leant against Kiku’s back. “That’s it. Well done.”
You kissed the small of his back, which was damp with sweat, and saw a drop of your own sweat fall like a bead, leaving a new mark on his white shirt. You started to thrust, sliding in and out of his warm passage, going deeper still with each movement. Kiku relaxed and tightened around you with every thrust, making it hard for you to pull back. You were parched. And you still wanted more. Heavy breaths echoed in the narrow space. At first, you hadn’t noticed them—now, you realised they were your own.
“Kiku,” you cried out breathlessly.
Kiku looked over his shoulder, almost as though he was about to say something in response—and froze. Footsteps could be heard outside, as well as conversation:
“Is the meeting room this way?”
You stopped. Footsteps could be heard pacing up and down on the other side of the wall, but no one came around it. You could hear high heels and leather shoes, and could almost even make out who they belonged to.
“Isn’t it 905?”
“That’s 912. 905 is on the other side.”
“Oh…”
“Come on, or we’ll be late.”
The footsteps retreated. You both let out the sigh you’d been holding back, and deflated. The fear hadn’t gone, that feeling of cold dread still lingering in your stomach. And yet, you found that on another level, you weren’t affected at all. Maybe you were some kind of pervert. You looked down to see Kiku desperately trying to suppress loud gasps, exhausted, and laughed once more.
“Wang-san!” He reprimanded you in his quietest voice, his tone full of disbelief.
You couldn’t stop laughing, even though you couldn’t tell what was so funny. You buried your head in Kiku’s shoulders, hiding your laughter in his thin back. You started to move in and out again, hearing Kiku’s cry of surprise and desperation.
This time, you weren’t that worried. You slowly opened Kiku up, taking your time to enjoy it and paying particular attention to where he was weakest. Every time you hit that small spot, you sent a sweet, trembling current through Kiku’s entire body; every time you brushed against it, he trembled, not just his thighs, but from head to toe. He was falling apart beneath you as you moved in and out.
And yet you wanted to make him fall apart completely, to make that invisible outer shell fall away and disappear, so that what was left could be pieced back together into a better, more honest him.
Kiku started to whimper, unable to control his voice, biting his forearm so hard that he’d soon be drawing blood. You furrowed your eyebrows and reached a hand out to remove his tie, and then stroked his cheek, causing him to gradually relax his grip.
“Relax a bit, Kiku. Look up.”
He did as he was told, opening his mouth as your fingers rubbed his cheek, a little bit confused. You gently loosened his grip, making him open his mouth wide, and then quickly and nimbly passed the tie between his jaws and tied it in a rough knot at the back of his head.
“Ng!”
He quickly clenched his teeth, but no sound followed. You couldn’t see his eyes, but knew they would be wide open, like two deep pools.
“It’s less painful like that, right?” you whispered into his ear.
Kiku’s whole body jerked violently. Your attention, however, was on his arm, which had the bite mark on it. The deep red, purpling mark contrasted with his pale skin. You couldn’t help but wonder whether, if you hadn’t have stopped him, he would have actually made himself bleed. Subconsciously, you gently ran your fingers near the mark, causing him to shudder once again.
The sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed in your ears. Kiku kept quiet, his breaths becoming shorter and shorter, his inner walls gripping you all the more tightly. You couldn’t take it much longer. You grasped Kiku’s erect cock and stroked it quickly, making him come all over your hand. You came deep inside him, your cock pulsing twice--once when he came, and once when it was already covered your sticky come, fully pulling back and thrusting into him one more time.
The overwhelming feeling of pleasure took a long time to subside.
You untied the gag and released him, both of you resting against the wall, taking short breaths. Finally, Kiku recovered and, facing away from you, pulled up his trousers, slowly straightened his shirt, doing it up button by button, and then started tying his tie.
“Are you still going to be able to use that?” you asked with a laugh.
Kiku said nothing. You reached out a hand, grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around. Sure enough, his pale face was streaked with tears and covered with sweat, a red line extending from the corner of his mouth to the base of his ear where the tie had been pulled tight. Kiku glared up at him, but with the tears pricking at his eyes, he was far less intimidating.
You couldn’t help but laugh.
“What?” his voice sounded raspy.
“Nothing, nothing,” you said reassuringly. You bent down and kissed him on the visibly reddened, swollen lips. “Go on. Tomorrow, don’t forget to clear the dirty data like I said in the email.”
Tomorrow. How would Kiku act in front of you tomorrow?
Who knew. And as for whether you’d ever be able to do anything like that again, no one could say for certain.