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Reagan groaned, throwing her hands into the air in frustration as yet another chemical compound failed to synthesize and fizzled out. It smelled like burnt hair, and she recoiled, pinching her nose shut.
She'd been working on this project for three whole days, and it was starting to irk her. Reagan wasn't a woman who spent three days on a project as simple as this; it just wasn't like her to struggle this hard.
Although, she had to admit, the only thing she really knew about human sexuality was that it involved chemicals. She had no interest in what those chemicals made other people feel, or how they changed the body chemistry, or anything that involved Reagan having to interact with other people. Really, she could do without this whole thing, but J.R. had told her it needed to be done, and she was not one to question the demands of the shadowy cabal at the head of Cognito Inc.
She'd been tasked with creating an aphrodisiac potent enough to fix the birth rate in certain unnamed countries (Reagan assumed America was on this list). So far, she'd tried fourteen different compounds derived from gingko leaves, seven with tribulus as the main ingredient, and three from ginseng, and none of them had done much more than making Reagan sick from the fumes.
Currently, she had been attempting to work with synthetic aphrodisiacs after it had become clear that natural derivatives, although cheaper, were far less potent. The synthetic compounds seemed to at least make the test mice more amorous.
Reagan pulled her face mask down, breathing in the slightly-tainted air. It fucking stinks in here, Reagan thought, making her way to the door of her lab. A few moments of fresh air would do her good. She could clear her mind, refocus a little, and come back to her experiment with sharper focus and stronger ideas.
She stepped out of her lab, making her way towards the break room. She shuffled awkwardly through the crowd of humans, aliens, and subterranean dwellers alike as she pushed through to the entrance of the break room. She'd uttered out a few "excuse me"s and "sorry"s, but they fell on deaf ears - everyone at Cognito Inc. was busy with something far more important than a scientist in a rush.
She stepped through the doorway into the break room closest to her lab, taking a deep breath of the clean filtered air before flopping down on the chair closest to her.
She looked up just in time to see Brett's bright and smiling face looking back at her.
"Reagan! My main girl!" he exclaimed, holding his arms out as if waiting for a hug. Reagan merely stared back, raising an eyebrow as he prolonged holding his arms out.
Eventually, he got the hint, and his arms fell to his side.
"Okay, still not a hugger," he said. "Gotcha."
Reagan shrugged. "Sorry. This stupid job J.R. has me working on has got my brain fried," she responded.
"What is it? Maybe I can help!"
Reagan shook her head, confused by Brett's constant optimism. "Probably not. I can't even figure it out and, no offense, I am leagues above you in intelligence."
Brett frowned. "Well, that's not very nice to say, but fair point I guess. What are you doing?"
"It's some aphrodisiac thing," Reagan replied. "I just can't seem to get it right."
"Hmm," Brett muttered. "Maybe all you need is a pair of fresh eyeballs to look at it."
Reagan's eyes widened. "But J.R. liquidated our organ supply months ago."
"No, no," Brett responded, "I mean my eyes. Maybe, if I looked at it, I'll see something that you missed and you'll be able to fix it up lickety-split." He turned to the vending machine, swiping his card and pressing some buttons.
"Ah, yeah, maybe," Reagan replied, leaning on the table and burying her head in her hands, rubbing her eyes. "I've just been at it for so long, I feel like I'm in a rut."
Brett offered Reagan a candy bar fresh from the vending machine, which she accepted. She practically inhaled the candy bar, remembering that she'd been forgetting to take her lunch breaks and eat. Maybe that's why I'm still messing up, she thought.
"Well, follow me, I guess," she said in between mouthfuls of chocolate. The two left the break room and headed to Reagan's lab.
Reagan held the door open for Brett, and the first thing he noticed was the smell.
"Gah," he said, pinching his nose closed, "what is that?"
"That? That is the smell of failure," Reagan sighed.
The two made their way to Reagan's desk where test tubes, syringes, vials of chemical compounds, and stained paperwork laid.
Brett eyed the paperwork, unable to make out any sort of layman's terms for what was going on. He looked over the vials, seeing if he could recognize any of the chemicals, but he didn't. They were all written in Reagan's god-awful chicken scratch, and the few letters he could make out on them didn't make any sense.
He leaned over the table, leafing through the files and shuffling the equipment around. Truthfully, he was only pretending to look for answers - he knew he wouldn't find any, but his need to impress Reagan was ever growing, and he'd kick himself if he let her down.
"So," he started, "what have you worked on so far?"
"Well," Reagan replied, listing off all the different compounds and chemicals she'd been mixing together to certain ratios. It all flew over Brett's head, who simply nodded along as if he knew what was going on.
"...and finally, I'm working with some synthetic components now," she finished, stopping to stare at Brett. "Did you get any of that?"
He turned red, averting his eyes with embarrassment. "Honestly, not really."
Reagan shrugged. "Yeah, well, apparently I didn't get any of it either, so."
"Wait," Brett started, an idea suddenly forming in his head. "What if the aphrodisiacs don't work on the lab rats, but they work on other species?"
"That would be stupid," Reagan said, thinking it over. "But I guess it might be true. What do you suggest?"
Brett froze. He had to make a decision? Oh, God.
"Well, uh, there's... elephants...?"
"You want me to go get a fucking elephant, Brett?" Reagan snapped, frustration from her project bubbling over.
"No, you're right, I'm sorry I even mentioned it," Brett responded, talking faster from anxiety.
Reagan slammed her hands on the table, laying her head down on the desk.
"No, I'm sorry," she muttered. "I'm just sick of this stupid assignment."
Brett placed an arm against the desk, attempting to lean on it, when his hand slipped. He instead accidentally slammed his hip into the table, knocking over several vials and spilling them on the table. He winced in pain, but his pain was quickly overturned by his fear of Reagan's reaction to the spilled chemicals.
"Oh, great, thank you, Brett," Reagan said, rolling her eyes.
"Sorry! I'm sorry," Brett squeaked.
"It's whatever," Reagan said. Her face then contorted into something unidentifiable to Brett.
"You okay?" He asked.
Reagan looked at him and nodded, and then suddenly sneezed loudly.
"Jesus," she said, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "That was," she paused and then sneezed again. "Ugh," she groaned. "That was unpleasant."
"Bless you," Brett said.
Reagan looked back down to address the mess on her table, when she noticed that one of the vials that had been knocked over was one of her untested experimental aphrodisiacs. It suddenly dawned on her that neither her nor Brett had their safety equipment on.
"Oh, fuck," she said, scrambling to pick up the vials and wiping the chemicals up with her lab coat sleeve. It wasn't the safest, but she knew she was working with stable chemicals - they wouldn't leave a chemical burn, at least.
"What's wrong?" Brett asked.
"We spilled one of the untested compounds," Reagan said, clearly panicking. "I think we're about to find out what happens when you test these things on something that's not a lab rat."
Brett's eyes widened and he jumped back, wiping his suit off. He wasn't sure that anything had gotten on him, but better safe than sorry.
Reagan ran to the wash basin in the corner, wetting a towel to wash the table off. She cleaned it to the best of her ability, but the acrid smell of the aphrodisiac still lingered in the air.
Reagan and Brett both stood in silence, waiting to see what happened next.
And then Brett sneezed.
"Hah," he said, "maybe it just makes you sneeze. Maybe it was another dud," he chuckled nervously, face suddenly very hot.
Reagan nodded slowly. Her head was spinning, and her thought process was getting very foggy. "I mean, maybe? How are you feeling?"
Brett shrugged. "A little funny."
"Me, too," she responded.
"Is it getting hot in here?" Brett asked, tugging on his necktie to loosen it.
"No," Reagan replied, looking over at the thermometer. The temperature in the lab was steady and cool, and yet she suddenly felt very hot.
Brett was the first one to fully notice the effects of the compound. His knees buckled and he sat down on the floor, panting. He began stripping his clothes off, starting with the jacket and ending when he was in his slacks and nothing else.
"Well," he said, voice shaky, "I'm definitely feeling something."
Reagan nodded, an uneasy feeling working its way through her stomach. She slid her lab coat off in turn, continuing to flush despite the cool sixty-eight degrees that she always kept her lab at.
Brett ran a hand through his hair, suddenly closing his legs and sitting at an awkward angle.
The first wave of lust hit Reagan like a truck. It felt like she was experiencing sexual desire for the first time in her life - it was incomparably powerful.
"Oh, my God," Reagan gasped. "It actually works. It actually works, Brett!" She jumped up, pumping her fists in the air. "Suck my dick, lab rats!"
Brett blushed at the lewd string of words that exited Reagan's mouth. Normally, it wouldn't phase him, but now? Even simple words were setting him off. He squeezed his thighs together shamefully, urging his boner to go away. Instead, the squeezing motion against his cock only served to create friction, eliciting a quiet moan.
Reagan suddenly stopped her cheering, attention turned towards Brett and the strange sound he'd just made. Despite her overwhelming desire to fuck something - anything, really - she was able to stay level-headed enough to recognize that her best friend was currently having the same issue as her.
She squatted down, watching as Brett hung his head in shame.
"Hey, you alright?" she asked, cupping his face with her hands in a surprisingly intimate way - it was out of character for her, she noticed, but she couldn't fight the urge to touch him. She wanted to feel him. All of him.
Gross, stop thinking like that, she thought to herself. You are not going to have sex with Brett of all people.
Brett leaned into Reagan's touch, closing his eyes and relishing the feeling of skin-on-skin contact, even if it was just her hand.
Reagan blushed at the sight. He was... almost sort of attractive like this.
She experimentally ran a hand through his hair and he gasped, letting out a quiet moan.
She sat down on the floor next to him.
"How long does this stuff last?" Brett asked.
"I have no idea," Reagan replied, "but I feel like it's going to be the longest wait ever."
Reagan and Brett sat together, both feeling an aching need growing in their respective thighs, but said nothing.
After a moment, Brett cleared his throat.
"Do you think that it would wear off faster if we were to... you know," he trailed off, averting his gaze.
"You mean, us? Have sex with each other? Gross," Reagan responded, but felt her cheeks grow hot at the idea. It was hard to keep up her tough façade when the aphrodisiacs were working as hard as they were to turn her brain into mush.
"N-no, I mean, with other people. Not that I wouldn't have sex with you," Brett said, and then immediately panicked. "Not that I want to have sex with you! I mean, uh, you know what I mean. Not with each other necessarily. We could, though," he weakly suggested. "But, I'm okay with just waiting it out, too, or finding someone else, or..." he trailed off, blushing from humiliation.
Reagan quirked an eyebrow at the poor man's inability to get his point across.
"I don't really wanna leave my lab feeling like this," she said. "Too vulnerable. Way too compromised for someone that's supposed to be saving the free world."
Brett nodded.
"Well, do you think that... fixing it by ourselves would help?" he asked.
Reagan shrugged. "You're welcome to try. Bathroom's thataway," she replied, pointing.
Brett looked at Reagan hard. "Would you mind turning around? I don't want you to see my... issue," he said.
Reagan obliged, covering her eyes with her hands and turning away so as to give him utmost privacy. She felt tempted to point out that she'd seen him naked before, but held back. She didn't want to give him the impression that she wanted to see it.
She did, though. She wanted to see it very badly, and it took all of her remaining willpower to stay turned away as Brett rushed to the restroom.
She silently speculated. She was sure he was a grower - after all, his flaccid cock was nothing too impressive, but she refused to believe that he was packing anything less gorgeous than his natural appearance.
She shook her head. Stop thinking about Brett being hot, she willed internally.
After a moment, the door to the bathroom creaked open, and Reagan turned to face it.
Brett's face down to his chest was a speckled red, like he'd been trying very hard to accomplish the task at hand, but she noticed that he had started covering his junk with his hands when she looked back.
"Well?" she asked.
"Nothing," he replied. "I couldn't even... you know... finish. It just kept getting close, and then right when I thought it was going to happen, bam! The feeling went away."
He sat back down next to Reagan, once again keeping his legs closed tight.
The two sat in silence until Reagan sighed.
"There's only one thing left we could try, besides waiting it out," she mentioned.
"You mean..."
Reagan nodded solemnly. "It's for science. We're BFFs, right? BFFs help their BFFs with science all the time around here. Totally normal. Nothing wrong with that."
Brett swallowed thickly.
Reagan began to undress, shaky hands removing her blouse and pants, and the two both sat there in their underwear.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Brett asked, slowly approaching her.
Reagan shrugged. "I'll try anything once, I guess."
Brett nodded, cupping Reagan's bra-covered breasts in his hands. He massaged them tenderly, feeling her nipple through the cloth fabric, and Reagan bit her lips in response.
In a swift motion, Brett removed her bra.
He took off his slacks, this time not bothering to hide his rock-hard erection. Reagan stared, he noticed, and she made the face that she makes when she's calculating something.
Brett then pulled off his boxers slowly, freeing his cock from the oppressive fabric.
Reagan pulled off her underwear, and the two sat on the floor of the lab, naked and flushed.
Neither of them knew what to do next.
It was Reagan who acted first, crawling over to Brett and placing a hand on his chest. She felt his heartbeat; it was rapid, indicating intense sexual arousal. She shook her head, cursing the fact that even when she was trying to be sexual, she was still approaching things so clinically.
Brett sat back, pulling Reagan into his lap. She felt his boner up against her crotch, poking up in between the two of them.
"So, do we kiss, or," Brett asked.
"Let's not kiss," Reagan responded, mildly squicked out at the thought of kissing a coworker.
Brett nodded.
Reagan positioned her entrance against the tip of Brett's cock, sliding it inside of her slowly. She hadn't realized how wet she was, but now that she was being penetrated, she suddenly found herself understanding a lot more about human sexuality. She had never felt this turned on in her life before, and the sensation of Brett's thick cock burying itself inside of her made her moan.
She rocked her hips up and down, grinding herself against Brett's mons pubis, and then mentally kicked herself for using such an unsexy word to describe the lower abdominal region.
God, even when she was having sex she was still thinking like a scientist. She groaned involuntarily.
"What's wrong?" Brett asked, opening one eye.
"Nothing, just... enjoying the awkwardness," Reagan responded, slowing down her pace.
Brett rested his hands on her lower back, grasping her tight and using his grip on her to guide her. He urged her to speed up, and she obliged. Brett closed his eyes again, mouth open and making sounds he'd never made before.
Reagan found herself grinding his cock against her g-spot, and she cried out. She'd never felt anything like it before, and in that moment she realized she'd only ever had mediocre sex before. Maybe this would be good for her.
Brett, realizing that he'd found her sweet spot, began bucking his hips and thrusting inside of her to hit it repeatedly. Reagan shuddered wildly, crying out Brett's name.
Reagan's hip motions suddenly became erratic, and he realized she was close to orgasm. He continued thrusting, deeper and deeper, until finally she let out a loud cry and threw her head back.
He felt her muscles clench around his cock, tightening and untightening rhythmically as she came. She buried her head into his neck, moaning various swear words, until her orgasm died down.
She looked at him, and he looked back, stars in his eyes.
Gritting her teeth with determination, Reagan sped up, pushing Brett closer to his orgasm.
"Reagan," he began, "I'm gonna cum," he warned in between moans.
Reagan slid off his cock, using both of her hands to jerk him off, and he came with a guttural moan as he shot thick ropes of cum onto both of their stomachs.
The two sat there for a moment, catching their breath.
Reagan was the first one to stand, noticing already that she was feeling clearer-headed, but her legs were still wobbly. She sat down on the chair, wiping the cum off of her stomach with a nearby paper towel.
Brett laid down on the floor, spreading his arms out. Reagan watched the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed heavily.
"That was awesome," he said, sitting back up. Reagan handed him a towel and he cleaned up, and the two proceeded to get dressed.
"Tell no one," she warned, and he nodded.
"Well, at least now you know your aphrodisiac works!"
Reagan nodded with a frown. "The only issue is, I have to test it multiple times. I have to know if it actually works or if that was just a fluke."
"Say no more," Brett stated. "I'd be happy to help you with that."
Reagan let out a small chuckle. "I guess that makes us lab partners, then."