After the third oral sex reference I had to ask myself, surely the wizard couldn’t be that oblivious. By now he had to know what he was doing to me. Dresden had burst in to my office, dressed in Goodwill’s finest and showing off how casually acquainted he was with combs and razors, to vehemently, and vulgarly, attest to the necessity of burning down one of my warehouses. My own responses were limited to the bland, automatic remarks, that are quite effective at winding the man up farther, as the majority of my attention was invested in restraining my impulse to drag him around my desk, force him to his knees, and show him a better use for his mouth. Hendricks knew I was barely paying attention to what was being said. He would fill me in on any important details later. For now he seemed content with simply looking on both of us in disapproval. Dresden had been describing how one of the creatures tried to eat through the outer wall when I interrupted his narrative to ask if it had been the one that looked like a clump of kelp or the one that more closely resembled a walking coral reef. My entirely innocent question was answered with a “fuck you, scumbag,” which made two for this particular visit. Juvenile, but I do enjoy provoking that reaction from him. Mister Hendricks caught my attention, indicating that a call had come in. I signaled him to take care of it, trusting his judgment on most matters. He left, somewhat reluctantly, to insure both the privacy of the call and the survival of the phone. Dresden is naturally inclined towards curiosity and his magic tends to be distressing towards electronics, particularly mine. Dresden watched Hendricks leave with an oddly intent expression. After staring at the closed door for a moment he turned back to face me. “So how much longer do you want to dance around this?” The change in topic caught me momentarily off guard. “To what are you referring, Mister Dresden?” He rolled his eyes as if I was the one being deliberately cryptic, then crossed the room to sit on the corner of my desk. It took more effort than I like to focus on his face rather than the leg brushing against mine. His eyes searched my face briefly before he seemed to realize that I honestly had no idea what he was talking about. He seemed disappointed, shaking his head. “I’m talking about this,” he motioned between us. “I call you a criminal scumbag, you call me a juvenile pyromaniac. We each try to one-up and piss each other off . It’s been fun, but the foreplay is getting old.” Remarkable that he would be the one to have a clearer understanding of our relationship than my own. He further demonstrated by leaning in closer to me than most people are permitted. “So are we gonna do this or what?” I could not have gotten as far as I had without learning to recognize an opportunity. I grabbed Dresden by his too-long hair and pulled him down for a kiss. He made a contented noise against my lips and slid from the desk to my lap. He held the back of my neck as he tried to take control. My hands gripped his hips as I allowed him to take over. The kiss became deeper, wetter. His hands roamed and my tie disappeared. My hands were up his tee shirt and splayed across his firm, flat stomach. There were smooth lines of scar tissue under my fingertips. I wanted to see them. I wanted to trace every scar on his body with eyes, fingers and tongue. I wanted to spread Harry out across my desk, take him apart slowly, then put him back together. I wanted him to put his mouth back were it was and do that again. Unfortunately, just as I was deciding on a course of action beyond maul the man on my lap, I heard the soft click of the door opening. Mister Hendricks blocked the view of the office from the hallway as he entered, glaring in reproach. Harry looked up at the sound of the door closing. “Ah, oops?” Hendricks ignored Harry’s attempt at wit. “Meeting in fifteen, Boss.” “Thank you. I’ll be out in a moment.” He gave both of us one last glare before nodding curtly and steeping back out. It was going to be one of those days. Harry stood and straightened his clothes while I retied my tie. “So, he looked pissed. I’m not going to have to start worrying about my break lines getting cut, am I?” Privately, I thought his break lines were the least of his concerns with that car. “You needn’t worry. He will likely be directing the majority of his ire at me.” That had earned me a small grin. “Sorry to get you put in the dog house.” He was not in the least sorry. “He will get over it,“ I said with a shrug, not adding out loud that an apology and bribe might be required. Harry leaned back down for another brief kiss. “See you later?” He asked in a whisper, sounding almost shy. I pulled him close, his stubble catching intriguingly across my palm. “I should be home around ten tonight. Someone will let you in if you arrive before me.” One last kiss and I walked to the door. “And Harry?” I called over my shoulder. “Don’t shave.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Re: Scruffy!Harry
Fill: Don't Shave
(Anonymous) 2011-03-24 12:28 am (UTC)(link)After the third oral sex reference I had to ask myself, surely the wizard couldn’t be that oblivious. By now he had to know what he was doing to me.
Dresden had burst in to my office, dressed in Goodwill’s finest and showing off how casually acquainted he was with combs and razors, to vehemently, and vulgarly, attest to the necessity of burning down one of my warehouses. My own responses were limited to the bland, automatic remarks, that are quite effective at winding the man up farther, as the majority of my attention was invested in restraining my impulse to drag him around my desk, force him to his knees, and show him a better use for his mouth.
Hendricks knew I was barely paying attention to what was being said. He would fill me in on any important details later. For now he seemed content with simply looking on both of us in disapproval.
Dresden had been describing how one of the creatures tried to eat through the outer wall when I interrupted his narrative to ask if it had been the one that looked like a clump of kelp or the one that more closely resembled a walking coral reef. My entirely innocent question was answered with a “fuck you, scumbag,” which made two for this particular visit. Juvenile, but I do enjoy provoking that reaction from him.
Mister Hendricks caught my attention, indicating that a call had come in. I signaled him to take care of it, trusting his judgment on most matters.
He left, somewhat reluctantly, to insure both the privacy of the call and the survival of the phone. Dresden is naturally inclined towards curiosity and his magic tends to be distressing towards electronics, particularly mine.
Dresden watched Hendricks leave with an oddly intent expression. After staring at the closed door for a moment he turned back to face me. “So how much longer do you want to dance around this?”
The change in topic caught me momentarily off guard. “To what are you referring, Mister Dresden?”
He rolled his eyes as if I was the one being deliberately cryptic, then crossed the room to sit on the corner of my desk. It took more effort than I like to focus on his face rather than the leg brushing against mine. His eyes searched my face briefly before he seemed to realize that I honestly had no idea what he was talking about. He seemed disappointed, shaking his head. “I’m talking about this,” he motioned between us. “I call you a criminal scumbag, you call me a juvenile pyromaniac. We each try to one-up and piss each other off . It’s been fun, but the foreplay is getting old.”
Remarkable that he would be the one to have a clearer understanding of our relationship than my own. He further demonstrated by leaning in closer to me than most people are permitted. “So are we gonna do this or what?”
I could not have gotten as far as I had without learning to recognize an opportunity. I grabbed Dresden by his too-long hair and pulled him down for a kiss. He made a contented noise against my lips and slid from the desk to my lap. He held the back of my neck as he tried to take control. My hands gripped his hips as I allowed him to take over.
The kiss became deeper, wetter. His hands roamed and my tie disappeared. My hands were up his tee shirt and splayed across his firm, flat stomach. There were smooth lines of scar tissue under my fingertips. I wanted to see them. I wanted to trace every scar on his body with eyes, fingers and tongue. I wanted to spread Harry out across my desk, take him apart slowly, then put him back together.
I wanted him to put his mouth back were it was and do that again.
Unfortunately, just as I was deciding on a course of action beyond maul the man on my lap, I heard the soft click of the door opening. Mister Hendricks blocked the view of the office from the hallway as he entered, glaring in reproach.
Harry looked up at the sound of the door closing. “Ah, oops?”
Hendricks ignored Harry’s attempt at wit. “Meeting in fifteen, Boss.”
“Thank you. I’ll be out in a moment.”
He gave both of us one last glare before nodding curtly and steeping back out. It was going to be one of those days.
Harry stood and straightened his clothes while I retied my tie. “So, he looked pissed. I’m not going to have to start worrying about my break lines getting cut, am I?”
Privately, I thought his break lines were the least of his concerns with that car. “You needn’t worry. He will likely be directing the majority of his ire at me.”
That had earned me a small grin. “Sorry to get you put in the dog house.” He was not in the least sorry.
“He will get over it,“ I said with a shrug, not adding out loud that an apology and bribe might be required.
Harry leaned back down for another brief kiss. “See you later?” He asked in a whisper, sounding almost shy.
I pulled him close, his stubble catching intriguingly across my palm. “I should be home around ten tonight. Someone will let you in if you arrive before me.” One last kiss and I walked to the door. “And Harry?” I called over my shoulder. “Don’t shave.”
Re: Fill: Don't Shave
Re: Fill: Don't Shave
(Anonymous) 2011-03-24 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: Don't Shave