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Thoma doesn’t let Bennett visit him at work often.
It’s for a variety of reasons, chief of which being that Bennett is busy, and the trip isn’t particularly worth it when he has other things to do. Another is that Bennett is very cute, and Thoma does his best to keep this fact away from as many people as possible.
But Bennett insists, one day, that Thoma let him bring him lunch. He pitches the idea with red cheeks, his hands curled in the hem of Thoma’s too big t-shirt on his small frame. He’s worried about Thoma eating, says that the convenience store lunches he grabs on his break can’t be good for him. He says it like he’s thought about it enough that Thoma says yes, sweeps him up to kiss his cheeks. He’ll never be able to deny Bennett anything.
But Thoma still has his rules of course. Bennett is good enough to know to follow them.
Bennett shows up to Thoma’s office in a hoodie and a tennis skirt, a call sent up to Thoma’s private office to let him know who’s on the way up. Thoma’s realized Bennett’s affinity for feminine wear, and if everyone at his work is going to see him, they damn well better be jealous. Even if they don’t know about Bennett’s small cock, trapped in a small cage in his underwear. Thoma put it on the night before, a promise from Bennett to wear it for his visit.
He’s not nervous, not about Bennett at least, but it just helps his peace of mind that one secret gets traded for another. If his coworkers need to know about Bennett, then Thoma will keep Bennett’s small whimpers and adorably flushed, caged cock to himself.
“Hi,” Bennett says, and Thoma turns in his chair, spotting Bennett at his door with a smile. He’s got a little lunch container clutched in one hand, his face lit pretty by the light from the window.
“Hi.” Thoma says back. He waves Bennett inside, unable to keep his smile away. “Ayato didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”
“Nope,” Bennett says, and sets Thoma’s lunch on his desk, bends over to kiss Thoma on the cheek. His heart jumps, warm with affection, and Bennett giggles when Thoma grabs him by the hips and pulls him down into his lap. “He said he’d heard a lot about me, and he didn’t…” Bennett blushes, and squirms.
“What?” Thoma asks, a laugh in his voice. “He didn’t say anything weird, did he?”
“He uh,” Bennett starts, twiddling his thumbs. “He said he didn’t expect me to be so cute.”
“Untrue,” Thoma scoffs, positioning Bennett a little better in his lap, sitting sideways so he can lean his head against Thoma’s chest. “I tell him about you all the time.” He pushes a bit of hair back from Bennett’s forehead. “I told him you’re perfect.”
“Perfect doesn’t mean cute,” Bennett pouts, and Thoma kisses the side of his mouth, tugging Bennett closer by the outside of his thigh. He can never seem to get Bennett close enough, but god does he want to try.
“Did anyone else say anything?” Thoma asks, curious mostly.
“Some, um, some people asked if I was… I was um…” Bennett dips his head again.
“Come on, bunny.”
“They asked if I was your wife,” Bennett chokes out, and startles a sputter out of Thoma. “They realized I was a boy eventually but—did you…” Bennett glances up. “Did you tell them you had a wife?”
“No!” Thoma assures. “I wouldn’t—I told them I was seeing someone really special but—they’ve never seen me with a ring. I don’t know why they said that.” Thoma rubs Bennett’s thigh soothingly. “Sorry, bunny. I’ll make sure to set everyone straight.”
“It’s okay. I wouldn’t, um—” Bennett starts. He ducks his head, and Thoma watches his ears turn pink with a tilt of his head. “You know. Mind,” he murmurs, and Thoma rubs at his thigh with his thumb.
“Mind what?”
Bennett picks at one of his nails, eyes downcast. “Being your wife.”
Oh. Oh.
“Oh!” Thoma says, voice high. “Y-you wouldn’t?”
“I mean, if you told people I was,” Bennett says, leaning his head against Thoma’s chest. Thoma hopes he can’t hear just how hard his heart is beating right now. “I wouldn't deny it. It’s not super far off. I mean… yeah.”
Thoma… was not expecting this. Sure, he doesn’t tell people about Bennett often, and the general assumption is probably that Thoma is straight but… the idea that people might see Bennett—sweet, adorable Bennett—bringing him lunch in his skirt, in Thoma’s hoodie, with his sparkling green eyes and slender hips and pretty marble throat… that they’d think…
“Thoma,” Bennett says, his voice a little hesitant. Thoma realizes he’s been slowly stroking Bennett’s leg while he thinks, his thoughts spiraling. Thoma’s wife.
“You’re still wearing it,” Thoma murmurs, hand stalling. He presses his mouth against Bennett’s temple, drawing in the warm smell of him. Slips his hand between Bennett’s thighs, soft skin, and asks, “Right?”
“Yeah, I’m—” Bennett’s next breath is part gasp, his thighs shifting tighter as Thoma finds Bennett’s caged cock and gives a small squeeze. “Ah,” Bennett gasps, squirming. “We’re—your office—”
“It’s just us. As private as it is at home.” Bennett is wearing the cage, his cock small and soft where Thoma thumbs at it through the gaps in the metal. His, his Bennett, his pretty cock to soften and harden and suck when he wants. Just his.
“I can’t—can’t cum,” Bennett chokes out, his hands winding in Thoma’s shirt. Thoma leans down and sucks a mark under his ear, still drawing in deep breaths of Bennett’s warm skin, clean like soap.
“That’s okay,” Thoma pants. “I can—here, here,” he says, and adjusts Bennett by the hips until Bennett’s back is to him, his skirt flared around his ass. Bennett’s underwear is soft today, not scratchy lace, just comfortable, thin fabric, and Thoma slips his fingers over his ass until he can expose more of his soft backside.
“Thoma…” Bennett whimpers, and Thoma guides his hips back in a slow grind. Bennett’s got his toes on the floor, back arched, ass pushing out of his skirt.
Bennett makes short, melty noises when Thoma grinds against him, he always has, though Thoma knows now that some of that is the discomfort of the cage keeping his cock soft. Thoma reaches around, under his skirt, and thumbs at it again, and Bennett makes another wounded noise, a little louder, his hips hitching on the next grind.
“Stop…stop touching it,” Bennett pants, reaching between his legs, finding Thoma’s wrist and holding it still. “Please. I can still—I don’t want to disappoint—”
“You won’t, you wouldn’t,” Thoma pants, his mouth open against Bennett’s skin. “Pretty baby, you wouldn’t.”
“Still,” Bennett gasps, and this time Thoma relents, anchoring the hand on Bennett’s thigh instead, just so he can reach up and turn Bennett’s face, press a furious kiss to the corner of his mouth. Thoma is struck by it, Bennett not wanting to cum just because Thoma asked him not to. His pretty boy. Pretty, pretty, wife.
Thoma makes a soft sound against Bennett’s cheek, and then dips his head, mouths hotly at his throat and pushes up against Bennett’s ass. “Are you—not just the cage. The…?”
“The plug too,” Bennett whimpers, and grinds down, his cock fit perfectly between Bennett’s ass cheeks, and oh he feels it now. Hard and round and snug in Bennett’s hole. Thoma hadn’t meant to be so nervous about it, not really, but he’d felt better with Bennett here, plugged up and caged. No one could have him but Thoma. But now…
“I wanna take it out,” Thoma pants, his mouth open against Bennett’s neck. “Can I? Please?”
“You don’t have to beg,” Bennett says. He turns and kisses Thoma softly on the mouth, says, “Whatever you want.”
What Thoma wants, then, is to stand Bennett on shaky legs, bend him over the desk, and work the plug slowly out of Bennett’s hole. When they’d bought it together, Bennett had insisted it was too gawky, too conspicuous, the base a bright red jewel. Thoma said it looked pretty against his skin, though, and Bennett had folded, just like that.
“Thoma,” Bennett whines, and Thoma shushes him softly, one hand on Bennett’s ass to keep his skirt pinned, flipped up, and he teases the rim of Bennett’s ass with the plug, pulling a little bit, pushing back in. “Thoma,” Bennett whines, louder this time, and Thoma laughs, pulls the plug out and presses his thumbs to Bennett’s ass, keeping him open, his hole pretty and swollen and twitching against Thoma’s fingers.
“So pretty,” Thoma murmurs, caught in his throat, overwhelmed. He leans closer, breathes hot, and murmurs, “So, so pretty,” and Bennett gasps when Thoma kisses him, licks hot flat across his hole.
Bennett makes short, melty little noise when Thoma licks into him, his legs twitching under Thoma’s hand, his whole body arced tight against Thoma’s desk. He tastes a little strange, the influence of a metric ton of lube, but Thoma can’t keep down his own arousal at feeling it, the way he has to grind his hand at his cock between his legs while he opens Bennett’s soft hole with his tongue.
“Thoma,” Bennett whines, his hand fumbling blindly for Thoma, landing in his hair. “I t-told you, please, I can’t c-cum like this. Just—oh god, please, just use me, I don’t wanna—”
Thoma groans into Bennett, the hand on his ass digging in harder without his say so, his tongue flexing where he’s started rocking it into Bennett’s hole. He’s fucking dying, he wants his mouth on Bennett so bad, and Bennett can’t even cum like this, and Thoma wants so bad—
Bennett’s protest comes in a choked slur of a sound when Thoma presses his lips to Bennett’s hole and sucks, softly, and his cock twitches hard against his hand, Bennett’s still hanging soft between his legs.
“Sorry,” Thoma says, and sits back, his lips a mess. He can’t take his eyes off of the way Bennett looks spread out on his desk, relaxing down and bent over now that he’s not being teased so mercilessly. Thoma feels a soft sweep of embarrassment, a little possessive, because he didn’t mean to tease Bennett, but he just tastes so good, like he’s a meal that needs to be eaten.
He tugs Bennett back into his lap, and Bennett goes, his legs a little jelly, but entirely unnecessary when his feet don’t touch the ground in Thoma’s lap. Now, though, it’s Bennett’s bare ass against Thoma’s cock tenting his slacks, and the change in knowledge makes Thoma’s cock kick and drool against his underwear.
“Use you?” Thoma echoes, remembering what Bennett had said, unable to let it leave his mind actually. He noses under Bennett’s chin and Bennett whimpers, his hands going to cover Thoma’s where they’re on his waist. “Is that really okay, bunny?”
“I want you to,” Bennett breathes, and Thoma kisses his throat, his lips soft against Bennett’s thundering pulse point. “If I can’t cum; I just want to make you feel good.” It’s such a flip from the way they usually are, Thoma’s obsession with making Bennett cum until he can’t anymore. He loves watching him fall apart, making him loose and messy and sated. But this version of Bennett, unable to get off and sensitive for it, desperate for something, even if it’s to make Thoma feel good where he can’t, it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does.
“I can do that,” Thoma breathes. He kisses Bennett’s throat softly, and then nips, leaving a small bruise in Bennett’s delicate skin. “I can give that to you.”
He pushes Bennett up enough to pull himself out of his underwear and get a shaky hand around his dripping cock. It’s a mess, watching himself drool precum down his shaft with Bennett’s perfect, perky ass hovering so close. But it looks so good, his hole soft but twitching, waiting for Thoma’s cock.
“Bunny,” Thoma groans, and Bennett dips his head with a soft, plaintive sound.
One hand on his waist, Thoma pulls Bennett back and down, and his hole touches his cock and then sinks down, and Thoma sucks in a few shaky breaths as the tight flex of Bennett settles around him.
“Wanna move,” Bennett whimpers, shifting, grinding his hips in a small circle. Thoma hisses and puts a hand on his hip.
“J-just a second, bunny. Oh, god, I don’t wanna hurt you baby.”
“Won’t hurt me, won’t—” Bennett begs. He glances over his shoulders, and his eyes are dewy and bright. “I’ve been—I’ve had that plug in for so long—you feel so good Thoma… I like it. I want it—please, please move—”
He’s on the verge of tears Thoma can hear, and it makes him impossibly hot, leaning forward to curve his body around Bennett’s back. And it’s insufferable sexy, Bennett’s whimpering need and soft blush. Thoma wants to tease him more, even if he’s a little embarrassed about it.
“Move,” Thoma urges, a hand on Bennett’s thigh. It takes a moment, just a second for Bennet to realize that Thoma’s not going to help him, and he shivers, stretches to make his feet reach the ground. Thoma waits, and Bennett struggles, only until he can get enough leverage to grind back, then forward, and then lift up a laughable amount and fuck himself on Thoma’s cock.
He gives it his best effort, he really does, but Thoma doesn’t give him much to work with. He’s riding half an inch of him maybe, and Thoma is stuck to him on every ride up, feeling Bennett’s exasperated gasps rumble through his chest. He wants Thoma to fuck him, but Thoma is getting just a bit of joy out of watching Bennett work for him, his soft cock caged between his legs, one of his hands fisted in the front of his shirt.
“Thoma,” Bennett whines, trying to ride him as best as he can. “Oh, god, Thoma, I—I need more—”
“Just a little more,” Thoma urges, wrapping his arm around Bennett’s waist now. “I wanna feel it like this a little more.”
Bennett whines, but complies, and Thoma takes a little pity on him and starts to tug him back, grinding Bennett deep as much as he can. And Bennett gasps every time he does it, his rhythm breaking, hips twitching.
Thoma smiles against the back of his ear. “There? Feel good?”
“There,” Bennett gasps, his head dipping. “T-there, oh, Thoma, please, please don’t bully me anymore. Please—”
“On the desk. Hands up, please.”
“Thank you,” Bennett breathes, and Thoma tips them forward, Bennett onto the floor, his hands up over his head, and like this, Thoma can see just how Bennett’s ass looks spread on his cock, the sharp arch of his back, his trembling fingers. Thoma pins his skirt with one hand just to watch how Bennnett looks around his cock. He’s so pretty, so perfect, and the noise he makes when Thoma snaps his hips forward that first time is like heaven opening up.
“I want to know, really know,” Thoma asks, a hand going through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “Can you really not cum like this, Bennett?”
“I-I don’t know,” Bennett breathes. He whimpers when Thoma plants both of his hands on his hips and jerks him back into his next thrust. “Ah! I don’t—m-maybe? Maybe? Ah, ah, Thoma—”
“Do you want to?” Thoma pants.
“Yes,” Bennett pants. “I do, I wanna cum, lemme—”
“I’m going to. I’m going to make you, okay? Hold on,” he says, and leans over, the same position as before, and Bennett gasps, his voice breathing. “There,” Thoma breathes, not a question, and braces a hand on Bennett’s hip.
He fucks Bennett hard, little ruthless snaps of his hips right up against his prostate, and Bennett hiccups out moans in time with Thoma’s thrusts. He’s not loud enough to get them in trouble, but Thoma gets hot at the idea of it, his coworkers walking past his office while Bennett fucks his wife so hard he cums all over his cage.
“Bennett, Bennett, Bennett,” Thoma pants tightly. He can feel Bennett’s sweaty, shaking body underneath him, and its bliss, truly.
“I’m—close, I could—I think I can—Thoma.”
Thoma wants to see it. He needs to make Bennett cum in his pathetic little cage.
“Please,” Thoma begs, hot against the shell of Bennett’s ear. He reaches between Bennett’s legs and wraps a hand around the metal of the cage, reaching through with his fingers to rub at Bennett’s poor trapped cock. “Let me feel it.”
“I—” Bennett hiccups out, squirming underneath him. Thoma’s never felt Bennett squirm while they fucked, and he never realized how much he would like it when he could pin Bennett down and make him still.
“Thoma!” Bennett gasps, his body jerking. He’s close, Thoma can feel it, his hole clenched sinfully tight, his legs shaking. Thoma rubs his fingers harder into the soft skin of his cock underneath him, and Bennett’s hands slam down on to the desk, his hips twitching up. “Oh, god, Thoma—”
It’s a mess, Bennett’s shaking body and the pathetic amount of cum he spurts out, strained by the cage, and Thoma rumbles a moan in his chest that sends him over the edge, snapping his hips only a few thrusts more times before he fills Bennett up, their hips pressed flush, his body curving around Bennett’s back.
Underneath him, Bennett keeps shaking, keeps breathing out shaky, airy moans, and Thoma sits up with a hard exhale, drawing back enough to watch the way his cock slips out of Bennett. He’s covered in his own cum, and Bennett isn’t any better. Thoma sits back in his chair to watch it slip out of Bennett’s ass and on to his soft balls.
“Hold still, bunny,” Thoma instructs softly, and Bennett moans, exhausted, as Thoma spreads his ass and reaches for the plug on the table. He slips it inside of his boyfriend, satisfied as he cum stays plugged up inside of his hole.
“There, pretty boy,” Thoma says with a smile, and Bennett twitches, whimpers against the table. Thoma hauls him back into his lap, and Bennett is hazy at the edges the way he always seems to be after he’s cum particularly hard. He nuzzles into Thoma’s chest with a soft sound, and Thoma strokes his thighs, kisses him on the forehead.
And he’s more than a satisfied, because he’s got secrets up to two now.