Archive of Our Own

If there’s anything Lawrence trusts about Adam Stanheight, it’s that he—with the right motivation and reasoning—will make good on any promise. The pink slip and the hotel room was one of the ways he learned that, watching him in that little skirt after he’d invited Lawrence for a good time . It was a good time, one of the best nights of his life, in fact.

Lawrence should have known that the filthy words that had escaped his lips that night would come to fruition.

It’s late, just past five. Most people are headed home for the night, many of them having kids and spouses to tend to, some of them going out for drinks, some of them will linger around a little longer in the hopes that they’ll find some reason not to go home quite yet. Lawrence usually finds something to busy himself for another thirty minutes after his shift ends—paperwork and emails that he hadn’t had time to get to through the rest of the day.

Today is no different. He’s been hopping from surgery to surgery without break for hours now. Eight that morning he’d clocked in, and it’s five by the time he gets a break to just sit down finally. He’s dead on his feet, stumbling through the halls with his clipboard in hand, shoes dragging against the ground. A few nurses wave him goodbye for the night, one of them rests her hand on his shoulder just a little too long and brushes her off with a light, “ Goodnight, Lisa .”

It’s 5:08 when he finally makes it into his office. He tests the knob, expecting it to be unlocked, but he frowns when the knob doesn’t budge. Strange. He thought he’d left it open—he has no reason not to. He brushes the thought aside as he pulls out his keys. He probably just forgot, he was in a rush this morning, he can’t even remember if he made it into his office this morning before the morning rush came. Patient after patient, surgery after surgery. His head hurts. God, he needs a drink.

He finally unlocks the door, jiggling his keys in the knob before he turns the handle and, with eyes low to the floor, pulls his keyring out again and shuts the door behind himself. He can’t wait to sit down and just relax for a few minutes. He knows he needs to email Hatterson back about that terminal patient, and not to mention the faxes he needs to send out to the University, general information regarding breakthroughs in cancer treatment. Evidence and case studies and anecdotes.

He’s so busy trying to figure out what he’s going to do once he sits down that he doesn’t even take the time to look at his desk until he’s already taken off his lab coat and loosened his tie. It isn’t until Adam actually speaks that Lawrence realizes there’s someone else in the room with him, and he jumps with the realization, gasping as his voice rings out.

“Long day, Doc?”

Lawrence turns his eyes up from the floor to take in Adam, blinking a few times as he realizes there’s someone there. Adam is there. and he’s in that damn nurse outfit again, skin-tight and clinging to his curves evocatively. The doctor opens his mouth to speak, to try to figure out what to say to the man before him. He’s sitting up on his desk, legs crossed over each other, head tilted playfully with that same stupid hat clipped into his hair.

Lawrence’s first thought isn’t to jump his bones—though, his cock does twitch slightly in his pants. His first thought is just how much work it’ll take to fuck him and how tired he already is. His legs are sore, his feet ache from the long amounts of time he’s spent standing, his lower back is killing him. The last thing he wants to do is to exert more energy in fucking Adam, as much as he really wants to.

He exhales shakily and finally manages a sharp, “Yes. Very.” He turns his eyes away because he knows the longer he stares, the most he’ll want to exert that energy. He rolls his sleeves up his arms. “I didn’t expect you to follow through with… this. I’m not sure if today’s the best day.”

Adam hums in response, not particularly impressed with Lawrence’s disinterest. If anything, Lawrence senses a spark of irritation from him for being brushed aside so quickly. “Not the best day? That bad, huh?”

Lawrence grunts, shuffling to the other side of the desk and taking a seat in his office chair, all but ignoring Adam in favor of his work at hand. “I’ve been on my feet since eight this morning. Come back tomorrow.”

The doctor doesn’t look at Adam to see his reaction to the dismissal. He’s too busy opening his laptop and keying in his passcode, bagged eyes trailing across his login information and then his email inbox. Thirteen unread emails. Lovely.  

“You don’t gotta do anything, Doc. Just lay back and let me take care of you.” Adam huffs, clawing for Lawrence’s attention. “C’mon, I got all dressed up and for what—you to just blow me off? You were all for this when I was talkin’ about it in the hotel, weren’t you?”

Lawrence scoffs, “I wasn’t nine hours on my feet and sore when we were talking about that.” He turns his eyes up, his gaze flickering over the curves of Adam’s body, the way the dress hugs him just right as he turns on the desk to look at him, the way his ass—small and plump—flattens against the table, his arms propping himself up, the low cut of the collar…

Lawrence quickly turns his eyes away, trying to focus on his emails instead of the throbbing between his legs and the fact that he can hear the dress shift with every little movement Adam makes.

“I don’t mean to pressure you, Doc. Last thing I’d want to do is make you feel like you gotta—”

“I don’t.”

“But I’m just saying, you wouldn’t have to do much but just lay there and look pretty.” Adam slowly slinks off the table as he speaks, coming around to Lawrence’s left. It takes every spare ounce of will from the Doctor not to look at him as he presses a hand to his arm. “C’mon, you don’t even have to stand.”

Lawrence grunts in response. It does sound tempting. He wouldn’t have to do anything but just sit there while Adam does the work… And he did look pretty sucking his cock last time…

Reluctantly (for his pride more than his desire), Lawrence nods, sighing. He looks at Adam, taking him in: each tight wrinkle of the dress, his messy dark mop of hair on his head, that sharp jaw and that cocky grin. “Fine.”

“Yeah?” Adam beams.

“Yes.” Lawrence sighs, turning his eyes out the fogged window of his office beside the door. “But, make it quick, alright?”

“With you? Hardly an issue.” Adam snorts. Before Lawrence can snark back about the comment, Adam falls to his knees before him and tugs at his pants, desperately pulling at the belt of his jeans before Lawrence can think twice. The doctor watches on, eyes wide and chest swelling with each second that Adam spends there, halfway under his desk, halfway out, palming at Lawrence’s jeans with vigor Lawrence has seen from few others.

The orderly looks like he’s straight out of a porn video—from the erotic, horny expression on his face to the skimpy costume upon his slim frame. Adam looks like he was made to be on his knees like this and it’s an observation that Lawrence has appreciated ever since he first saw him in that hotel—hell, ever since he first saw Adam period.

The dark-haired man pulls Lawrence’s cock from his pants without a second thought and jerks him, slowly at first. He’s already half-hard, twitching as he hardens in Adam’s hands like clay, molded and formed. Adam grins at the sight, beaming with pride. He did that. He made Lawrence that hard, from nothing more than acting seductive in that little nurse outfit. The doctor doesn’t know much about Adam, but he knows what he’s thinking as he smiles, he knows how prideful and cocky he is. It’s what made Lawrence agree to this in the first place.

Adam’s hand slinks back down Lawrence’s cock and despite the logical side of himself wanting to return to his emails, Lawrence can’t peel his eyes away. Adam’s so perfect on his knees, stroking him through hardness, head resting against the doctor’s thigh as he plays with his cock, throbbing and drooling in his hand.

“You know, I don’t think you locked the door, Larry.” Adam squeezes the man’s head, drinking in the sharp hiss that results. “Would be a shame if someone walked in.”

“Watch it,” Lawrence warns, eyes shut, melting back into the seat. He’s grateful that Adam didn’t take his jeans off completely, just fumbled enough with the belt and the zipper to pull his cock through. “Just because you… You talked about it doesn’t mean I… actually… haah…” He trails off as Adam finally eases his lips around his shaft, taking him into his mouth, massaging him with his tongue and easing him down his throat, right down to that perfect bend. It’s just enough pressure around Lawrence for him to shudder out a breath, hot pleasure bubbling through his cock, causing him to twitch and spasm down the orderly’s throat.

Adam would reply, but he’s forcing his face so far down Lawrence’s cock that his balls reach his chin and he can hardly breathe, much less speak to him. The doctor’s eyes roll into the back of his head, his hips twitch, but he miraculously manages to keep his hands to the arm rests on either side of him, head tilted back, panting and shuddering with each passing second as Adam’s throat massages him, tightens and loosens and tightens as he tries to fend off his gag reflex.

Adam’s name falls from Lawrence’s lips, needy and breathy and desperate, not at all used to the feeling of his cock so deep inside someone’s mouth. He can’t remember the last time Ali went down on him—it must have been years at this point. Even so, she’s always been unpracticed and uncertain. Adam has the talent and precision of a whore, eyes meeting Lawrence from under fluttering, black lashes, hands on his knees, holding them apart so he can go down as far as possible before drawing his jaw back up to the tip, swirling his tongue around Lawrence’s fat glans just to taste him and dive back down.

Hesitantly, experimentally, Lawrence eases his hand to the back of Adam’s head. It’s a small weight, a rest, a means of proving he’s there. Adam moans into it, eyes rolling into the back of his head as if the concept of Lawrence so much as proving he’s still there is enough to get him off. Lawrence shudders in reply, gathers his wits, and finally pushes Adam down his length. Ali never lets him have any control while she’s giving head. The one time he had, she’s pulled back up with a scowl and had told him off. But, as he faces resistance and keeps pushing, Adam looks at him like he’s a God. His eyes roll into the back of his head and—from under the bend of his leg, he can barely make out the curve of Adam’s forearm slinking under the dress.

“Shit,” Lawrence breathes. His chest feels heavy, like it’s full of bricks and Adam does nothing to alleviate it. He lets up on the man’s head; Adam pulls back off of his length with a breathless gasp. Strings of spit connect his lips to Lawrence’s length, bubbly and transparent, slicking off his tongue across his twitching, warm head.

“You can fuck my mouth, Lawrence,” Adam breathes, “If you wanna. I can take it rough.”

All Adam has to do is say it and another long dribble of precum strains from Lawrence’s cock, drooling down his shaft. The orderly eyes it like he’s starved. Who would Lawrence be not to feed him?

He curses again, something dark and needy, and then he’s grabbing Adam by the hair, all ten fingers tangled and holding him in place so he can’t move an inch without Lawrence deliberately allowing it. With the man’s tongue out, mouth wide open, the doctor pushes him down. He’s slow about the act at first, uncertain, but when Adam takes it all the way down and all the way back up without so much as a heave, he loses his inhibitions and pushes him right back down again, starting a pace on his skull like Adam’s nothing more than his fleshlight.

The man strains for air through his nose as his head comes all the way down the doctor’s length, but he doesn’t argue, doesn’t claw at him, doesn’t so much as pull back and protest. He takes each thrust with bubbling, low moans like he was born to do it. His eyes tear up, half-lidded and blissed out with large, dark pupils—Lawrence watches the tears as they sprout and fall down his cheeks, but he doesn’t at all look distressed. He takes each shove of Lawrence’s hands with grace and dignity intact, and all the while he looks up at the doctor with admiration—even hazy as his eyes are.

When Lawrence is sure Adam’s taking it alright, he picks up the pace even faster. He tests just how rough Adam means by rough, and he tightens his grasp before fucking his face with everything he’s got. His hips push up into each thrust, his cock hits the back of Adam’s throat, pushes past the bend when Lawrence forces it, and—despite Adam’s whiney, desperate moans—he takes it well. His Adam’s apple bobs with each thrust, he chokes and he groans, but not once does he push away, not once does he deny Lawrence.

“Jesus Christ, Adam,” Lawrence grunts through the fast pace, through the sloppy sounds of Adam’s throat taking his cock, through the spit bubbling and spilling over his balls, through the choking, throaty sounds as Lawrenece penetrates the man’s throat. “It’s like you were made for this.”

Adam moans, one hand on Lawrence’s thigh biting nails into the knee. Over the sounds of Adam throating Lawrence like a bitch, Lawrence can make out another slick sound and it takes him a moment before he realizes Adam’s jerking himself off, his hands working over his t-dick frantically, desperate for stimulation. Lawrence’s cock throbs.

He can only take twenty more seconds of it before he realizes he won’t last, and he’d never forgive himself if he ended up cumming down Adam’s throat without properly fucking him. He pushes his mouth all the way down and holds him there just to feel his throat a little longer, just to feel his cock throb against his esophagus, and he’s about to pull Adam off, he’s about to get up and switch to something else before, to his horror, there’s a knock at the door.

Lawrence’s stomach flips, his heart drops. He makes wide-eyed contact with Adam and that’s about all he can do before the door opens, desperately pushing his chair forward in some half-assed attempt to hide Adam’s frame from under his desk, head still fully bottomed out on Lawrence’s cock.

The doctor meets the eyes of one of his coworkers—Lee. He clears his throat, desperately regaining his composure and leaning forward against his desk as he waves to her.

“Doctor—I would have appreciated if you’d waited for a ‘come in’ after you knocked.” He tries desperately to hide the strain from his voice, but Adam’s throat twitches around him in such a way that it’s nearly impossible. He focuses on his breathing and not on Adam throating his cock.

“Sorry about that. I promise this will be quick,” The man comes closer, a stack of papers in hand, glasses high on his nose. “I just needed you to sign off on these papers before I leave. I’m faxing them over to RNJM this evening.”

“You couldn’t have come in a bit earlier?” Lawrence asks, his voice cracking halfway through. He clears his throat and inhales sharply. Still, the man cares not for his reluctance, pressing the papers down before Lawrence before grabbing a pen from the holder and passing it to him. Lawrence scoots his chair forward further, hoping to keep Adam away from the other man’s view.

“You think I had time with our scheduling?” He scoffs and shakes his head, leaning back as Lawrence grabs the papers. He just barely gets his eyes on them before Adam begins sucking him deeper into his mouth, teasing him even with someone else in the room. Lawrence grits his teeth hard and purses his lips to keep his breathing steady and not make so much as a sound. Desperate to cover up the sound of Adam, fearful that eventually he’ll make some noise, he clears his throat and continues to make conversation. “So, how did—how did that meeting with Laura go?”

Lee nods, “Fine. Those charts showed exactly what we were expecting—seems like the radiation’s what she needed after all.”

“Even with it as far along as it is?” Adam pulls back, slowly at first, before pushing all the way back down and swallowing around him, squeezing him in his mouth, his head throbbing and drooling over his uvula. Lawrence white knuckles the pen as he writes his initials, quicker than he normally would.

“Well, what else are you gonna do?” He whistles. “The surgery would be far too dangerous—last resort, I’d think.”

Lawrence nods in agreement, shuffling through the papers to find the last of the documents he needs to sign. He pulls it to the front and just barely scans it over before he begins writing his signature on the bottom line. It’s just then, as he’s halfway through signing that from below him, a small, slick sound signals. Not terribly obvious, but enough that Lee’s brows furrow and he cocks his head, trying to determine the root of it. Adam stops completely, inhaling as quietly through his nose as he can.

“Did you hear that?” He frowns.

“M-My chair,” Lawrence manages, finishing off the signature and clicking the pen to hand it off as quickly as he can. “It’s been creaking a lot more than usual, about time to get a new one I think.”

“My nephew knows a guy for that, you know.” Lee grabs the documents from Lawrence but doesn’t move to leave. “I’ll email you his number when I get a chance, should be able to get it oiled up no trouble if you need.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lawrence clears his throat, gesturing with his head toward the door. “Thank you.”

Lee turns away finally, only after a moment longer of looking Lawrence up and down. On his way out, Gordon just barely manages a small, “Lock it on the way out, would you?” Lee responds with a cocked eyebrow, but complies anyways, turning the lock before he shuts it.

Five seconds. Five seconds is all Lawrence waits before he’s pushing his chair back and grabbing Adam by the hair, shoving him off his cock and glaring down at him with all his pent up irritation. “What were you goddamn thinking?” He says it hushed, not privy to getting caught.

Adam, with his drool-slicked, reddened, swollen lips, his half-lidded, teary eyes, his flushed, slim cheeks, his mussed hair, looks up at him with nothing but disbelieving jovialty. As if it were a game to him.

“Holy shit,” Adam laughs, adjusting his dress lower on his thighs. “I didn’t expect him to stay as long as he did. And you covered it up like it was nothing?”

Lawrence scowls, glaring him in the eye and completely disregarding the fact that his cock is still out and that Adam looks about ready to devour it whole again. “Are you dim? He could have found out. Think of the reports he could have made.”

“But he didn’t.” Adam grins cheekily. “Besides, you forget about the reports I could make.”

Lawrence grumbles. He knows. He knows that Adam could make a report about all of this. His wife and kid would find out. He’d lose his job. His life would be over. If he didn’t know Adam better, he wouldn’t discount that comment as merely a joke—but he knows Adam. He trusts Adam. He knows he has no reason to tell anyone than out of the will of his heart. Yet, Lawrence also knows that he has the full power to, and he trusts him not to.

He doesn’t know Adam—not as much as he should for someone he’s meeting so intimately. But, he still inevitably trusts him. He trusts he won’t tell anyone. He trusts that these little meetings will stay between the two of them. And he trusts that he can let go long enough with him to just be free in this. He trusts that Adam would never out him for his sexuality. He trusts that he’d never actually draw negative attention toward the two of them. He trusts that Adam won’t see him as a bad person for the things that make him hard—which is a lot considering the relationships Lawrence is used to.

Lawrence puts more trust into Adam than he’d like to admit, but it’s well-deserved. So far, he’s not broken it yet and he has no reason to believe he will.

But still, Lawrence isn’t happy with the joke. And he rightfully decides to punish Adam for it, snagging him by the hair and forcing him down his cock, all the way down until he’s spluttering on him, trying to gasp for air only for Lawrence to plug his nose. With one hand on the back of his head, the other keeping his nostrils shut, he leans forward, eases himself close to Adam.

“You’re really getting on my nerves, Adam.” Lawrence snarls, watching with a satisfied smirk as Adam’s eyes roll into the back of his head and drool soaks down his chin, finally hitting the floor. It’s only when his throat begins to strain that he pushes the man off, satisfied with the way he coughs under him, gasping for breath and wiping his sweat, tears, and saliva on his hand, then onto the dress. “Get up, bend over the desk.”

Adam smirks, quickly following the order despite his following cockiness. “I thought your feet hurt too much, Doc.” He shuts Lawrence’s laptop and sets it aside before he bends over, the skirt barely covering the curve of his ass, slipping a nudge of his plump vulva out, thick with hair.

“I found the energy.” Lawrence speaks blandly, standing from his chair to anchor a hand to Adam’s back, forcing him into a deep arch while the other hand yanks the dress up. His ass—plump and pale—squishes as the fabric rides up the skin, the skip rippling just slightly when he’s finally released.

Down from his ass, Lawrence’s thumb reaches the middle of his vulva, dragging down the slick to the small prod of his dick through his folds. He’s hard and twitching already, foreskin covering the top of his glans, but the lower head bright red and slick from the skin. Lawrence shudders. He’s soaked. His slick wets his hair, darkens the curls of his pubes and shines against the lights of Lawrence’s office. It continues to drool out, down his poking cock and up to his ass. He’s a fucking mess and all he’s done is suck dick.

He can’t remember the last time he made his wife this needy.

“Jesus, Adam…” It’s not the first time he’s said that, and it certainly won’t be the last.

“Rough is… Nice.” Adam flushes, arching his back deeper until his entire cunt’s on display for Lawrence. The doctor drags both his thumbs to either side of his folds and spreads him apart just to watch the pretty pink flesh of his slit drool. Adam’s desperate for it. His cock’s about feeling the same, throbbing and dripping precum onto the floor. He tells himself he’ll clean it up later.

“Is that so?” Lawrence grabs a handful of Adam’s upper thigh—where it connects to his asscheek—in a sharp, biting grip. The orderly whimpers and arches even deeper, spreading his legs.

“Y-Yeah…” Adam can’t muster another word, just cocks his head over his shoulder and waits patiently for Lawrence to do more, begging him to. Lawrence decides he’ll grant him the mercy, if only to finally get his own cock wet.

He wraps a hand around his length, continuing to pin Adam’s upper back to his desk, fingers gripping to the stupid little white costume, kneading the collar as he lines himself up, dragging his cock over his wet slit. The sound that resonates sends shivers up Lawrence’s spine.

“Condom.” It’s an order more than a question, but Adam provides anyways, tucking his fingers into his pocket before offering it back to Lawrence. The doctor takes it gratefully, rips it open quickly before rolling it down his cock with ease that hadn’t existed the last time he’d done this. He’s confident and frustrated and he wants in Adam now.

As soon as the rubber covers his cock, he’s got his hands back on Adam, his left planting to his neck, the other at the base of his length, once against rutting against his slit, pushing against his wetness. It’s so undeniably wet, squelching and slicking with each drag of his cock. He trails his head down to Adam’s swollen clit, circling the nub before continuing back up to his entrance, sopping wet and ready for him.

He catches at his entrance, slows his drag and stops as his head just barely teeters on pushing in. Last time they did this, it came and it went so quickly that Lawrence barely had time to breathe after before the guilt set in. He’s determined to draw it out this time, to savor each and every moment. Even Adam—despite Lawrence’s surprise—seems content with Lawrence’s teasing. The orderly’s back arches further, his ass wiggling as if trying to convince him to push in already. The blond pushes, just enough to pop his head in, but he pulls out right after. Adam whimpers.

“C-C’mon, Doc…” He white-knuckles the table and turns his eyes over his shoulder, looking Lawrence up and down with wide, feral eyes. “You gonna put it in or what?”

Lawrence moves his hand from Adam’s neck to his face, pinning him down. Without a word—no need to prove himself further—he finally pushes in all at once. His cock nestles deep inside Adam, brushing against the back wall of his cervix and Lawrence feels it. He feels the way Adam clenches down around him, gasping against the rough penetration without a warning or care for easing him through the stretch. All at once, he’s empty, and then he’s full. And God, is he tight.

Lawrence tilts his head back, taking in Adam. He’s so perfectly warm and wet, hugging against his cock like he doesn’t want to let go, a perfect little haven for his throbbing member to nestle itself in. He’d worry that the condom would come off with him if he weren’t dripping wet.

In the midst of it, Lawrence mumbles the other man’s name—breathless, needy, desperate. “Adam…” The hand that had held his cock comes to the bottom’s hip, squeezing him, feeling the fabric of the dress, then dragging down to his thigh just to spread him open further, easing himself deeper.

“Jesus,” Adam breathes back. His eyes are nothing more than hazy crescents. A gentle grin lulls upon his face, swelling in his cheeks. Lawrence adores it. “C’mon, more?”

“You’re greedy,” Lawrence chastises. Still, he pulls himself back, dragging just enough until only his head remains, and then he sheathes himself with a loud, wet slap. Both of them moan, the sound alone causing Lawrence’s dick to bob needily inside of Adam.

“Call me greedy when you’ve still got that wife at home,” Adam snarks back, one of his hands dragging between his legs to start working at his cock.

Lawrence’s face screws up when Adam mentions her, a sharp mix of disgust and arousal just thinking of her. Not to mention, the annoyance of the man always being adamant to bring her up. He refuses to take it.

Lawrence releases Adam’s head, still fully bottomed out inside of him, and he snags his arm from under him hard, prying his fingers from his t-dick. Adam makes a sound of annoyance high in his throat, but shuts up the moment Lawrence pins that arm behind his back, alongside the other.

“You’re just about getting on my last nerve, Adam.” Lawrence keeps those hands tight behind his back, even when Adam tests his strength. He leans his whole upper-body strength into it while his hips drag back again and slam in again. Adam can do nothing but reel, gasping out and eyes rolling back.

“Maybe—” He gasps, pushing his hips back into Lawrence. “Maybe you should do something about it.”

Lawrence glares. Do something about it he will.

He doesn’t think twice before he starts his pace, his hand gripping Adam’s wrists so tightly that he wonders if something will break. And using his hands as leverage, his other hand held to the desk to keep himself up, he fucks into the man with everything he has. His hips cant against him, push with everything he’s got, thrusting his cock so deep inside of Adam that his cervix kisses the head of his cock.

Their hips clap ruthlessly against each other, Lawrence hammering his hips into Adam’s, sure to bruise the man’s hipbones on the edge of the desk. He hopes it’s dark enough for Adam to look in the mirror and think of him for the next week. As each thrust racks through Adam’s body, Lawrence’s cock throbs and twitches in him, hot pleasure drawing up his balls with each stroke. He sighs, moans and tilts his head back. It’s bliss, it’s perfect. Still, he keeps himself quiet, throat seizing to choke out the gentle sighs and grunts he wants to exhibit.

Adam doesn’t have that self-restraint. As Lawrence fucks him into the desk, he arches and whines, panting and gasping. His eyes roll into the back of his head, his back arches, he tilts his hips up and—with vigor—he begins rocking himself back into each thrust, desperate to push Lawrence deeper, to feel every fucking inch. His sounds start low but grow with each second they thrust into each other. Soon enough, they’re echoing off the walls and Lawrence fears he won’t be the only one to hear it.

“Shut up,” Lawrence gasps, his stomach already churning with his impending orgasm. “Do you want us to get caught?”

Adam gasps, trying to grip at any sort of purchase but having nothing with Lawrence holding his arms in place. “I’m sorry, I—oh God—Lawrence I’m—”

Lawrence grunts, frustrated when Adam’s response is just to get louder. And, in some desperate attempt to cover it up, he slips his hand over Adam’s mouth, clasping his lips shut tightly and muffling the incessant noises blooming from him. Despite his annoyance with it, he can’t help but feel a sense of pride in making Adam such a mess—ruining him so thoroughly. How he cries and writhes under him, how he pushes back into each thrust as if he’s starved for his cock. It’s only been a week since they last met and Adam’s already desperate for him.

Through his fingers, Lawrence makes out his own name, makes out a litany of curses and cries. And even though it’s muffled, it’s enough for him to make it over the edge, even faster than before. He hardly even gets time to warn the other man before his hips stutter, his back arches and tenses, and he cums hard inside of him, stuffing the rubber up. Part of him wishes he didn’t have it on, wishes he could feel it release inside of Adam, wishes he didn’t have the barrier and could feel him as he is, but he knows better.

Adam grunts under him, moans as Lawrence’s hips stutter, and slowly, after several agonizingly long moments, Lawrence releases him with a sigh and pulls out, leaving the orderly agonizingly empty and without reprieve. Sweat drools down Lawrence’s forehead, over his nose, and down to his chin while he looks over Adam’s cunt—sloppy and drooling with slick.

“That all you got?” Adam groans from the desk, exasperated. He’s just as breathy as Lawrence, but still has that fire of discontentment in him.

Lawrence grunts, flushing hard with humiliation. “N-No, I—It’s been a while, alright?” He pulls the condom from himself and ties it off carefully before throwing it into the trash bin beside his desk, burying it under a wad of tissues. “I’m not sure why you’d come to me if you’re looking for someone who can last a half-marathon.”

Adam snorts, pulling himself up from the desk. “You lasted longer last time. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Well…” Lawrence flushes, tucking his cock back in his pants. He goes quiet, unsure of what else to say. You’re really hot?

“Listen,” Adam starts shifting away from where the desk’s been moved three feet forward to the coat rack where he’d hung up his clothes. “Maybe, we could meet at my place next, huh? And I can show you how to properly hold off.”

Lawrence flushes even harder, almost offended at the thought that Adam is offering to help him last longer. “I don’t—”

“You last longer in bed, I get to be satisfied, and I’m sure your wife wouldn’t have an issue with it either.” Adam pulls up a pair of jeans over the dress and grabs his pack of Camels from the pocket. “It’s a win-win-win. What d’ya say?”

The doctor stands there dumbly for a moment, taking in Adam as he yanks up his pants and then pulls on that same white t-shirt he normally does before he shifts through his clothes to find his lighter. Even out of the dress, Lawrence finds him attractive in a scuffy way. He’s dreamt of fucking men like Adam for years now. He supposes it’s that attraction that drives him to say yes in the most confident, “Alright… fine.” He can muster. “But no promises it’ll actually… do anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adam finally sparks his cigarette, finding his lighter in his back pocket. He inhales sharply, and then exhales with a satisfied sigh. “Monday sound alright? I’ll shoot you my address.”

Lawrence snorts, pulling the desk back a few feet, right where it was before he’d so ruthlessly railed Adam over it. “Yeah… Alright.”

Adam smirks, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, keys on his left hip, and cassette player on his right. For a moment, they do nothing but look at each other. Lawrence peering over his laptop, Adam over his cigarette. Trust, Lawrence tells himself. As if this is the guy he’s supposed to trust. As if any of this were a good idea.

“Well…” Adam inhales sharply. “I’ll see ya around, Larry. Don’t burn yourself out.”

Lawrence smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right. I won’t.”

There’s one more glance there after Adam opens the door, as if they simply can’t stop looking at each other. But, Adam knows when he overstays his welcome, and he finally slips out in the sloppy way he does. Lawrence, sitting at his desk, pondering and reflecting upon the experience, feels his cock throb between his legs.

Monday. He thinks, looking at his calendar. At least he has something to look forward to.