Office Confrontations Ch. 03

Marshall even went out of his way to run his fingers across Kyle's chest and stomach, trying hard not to stare at the rigid muscle and smooth skin. As the last button slipped out, he ran his hands back up Kyle's chest, catching the shirt by the collar and pushing it down. He let the fabric fall to the ground and dropped his eyes. Dealing with the shirt had been simple, no danger of awkwardness. Pants were a very different story. Beneath pants awaited male genitalia that Marshall may or may not be ready for. Thankfully, Kyle took pity on him and didn't rush him or try to force him. Being demanding was tolerable, enjoyable even. Being unnecessarily cruel was not.

Finally Marshall reached forward and hooked his fingers into the top of the waistband, trying very unsuccessfully not to look completely stupid. His hands continued to shake and his throat was so dry he didn't think a full gallon of water could wet his mouth. With the button undone, the sound of the zipper boomed around them. Marshall knew it wasn't really that loud, but it was daunting, and his mind over-exaggerated the truth. Kyle's vibrant maroon boxers peeked through and Marshall averted his eyes as he pushed the slacks to the ground, assisting in the finagling of the shoes.

Last, the red boxers glared up at him, with an obvious tent. Marshall gulped visibly, hesitating. After this, there was no turning back, no pretending he wasn't gay, that Kyle merely preyed on his insecurities and physical needs. His bullshit wouldn't fly from that point on, and he knew it as he stared at the contrast between pale skin and the near-blinding colored fabric. Running seemed like a viable option, and Marshall's eyes flicked toward the door, briefly contemplating bolting.

But he knew running would do no good. If it wasn't Kyle, it would be someone else. And Marshall didn't want anybody else. As insane as it felt, he wanted Kyle. He'd never before looked at a man and even considered tearing boxers stifling a sizable erection off(in fact, he made it a point not to be near another man's cock unless he had no choice standing at the urinal), but there he stood feeling that exact sensation building up inside. Understanding blossomed at the concept that he didn't want to pretend he wasn't interested, and he really couldn't go through another embarrassing hook-up with a girl where he imagined a man behind closed lids. Hell, next time he might scream out Kyle's name! He either threw himself in head-first or gave up on sex altogether.

Marshall stepped closer and bent at the knees, grabbing onto the hem of each leg. He hesitated for only a split second before pulling them down and straightening right back up, completely avoiding looking at what in his peripheral vision promised to be a force to be reckoned with. Instead, he turned his head away and focused his attention to the floor.

"Did you really need that many layers?" Marshall muttered under his breath as he kicked the last of Kyle's clothes away with his foot. As he did he surreptitiously took in Kyle's perfect body. The man must work out because he was lean and had lightly toned muscles everywhere, and thankfully not the obscene muscles some men worked six hours in the gym for. For the first time in Marshall's life he felt the urge to run his fingers down a man's body and feel the hard muscle beneath his touch. Marshall instantly dropped his gaze and turned away. What was he doing? Was he really even ready for this?

"Marshall, relax." Kyle took a step closer, and his voice didn't sound hard at all. In fact, he sounded...gentle. If that was even possible. Marshall decided it was a fluke, and jumped as warm hands pressed against his shoulder. After a second to adjust, he relaxed visibly and leaned slightly into the touch. Somehow Kyle's presence felt familiar, even though they had only known each other a few months, and only really got to know each other over the past month and a half. But in a world full of insincerity and self-centered people, Kyle was a comfort. He was real, right there next to him. Even if he just wanted to fuck because he could, at that moment, Marshall meant something to Kyle. He mattered, as unbelievable as it felt.

"It's just...weird." Marshall mumbled, unsure of how to put his feelings into words. His chest felt tight and he could feel his heart thudding loudly and betraying his nervousness(as if that wasn't blatantly obvious). "I don't feel any different, but when I look at you..." He blushed again, which pissed him off immensely. "Fuck." He grunted, clenching his jaw and squeezing his hands into fists, leaving crescent shaped marks ingrained in his palms. Kyle rubbed his shoulder with firm fingers, easing away some of the tension.

"You can look at me if you want." Kyle told him. Marshall looked over and caught Kyle as he began to grin wide. "I give you permission." Marshall snorted, suddenly feeling much less uncomfortable as he fell into the routine of arguing with Kyle.

"If I needed permission to stare at you, I would have asked." Marshall responded. But the jab made him feel like himself again. Like this new part of himself didn't change anything, didn't make him this whole different person. Marshall was terrified of losing himself. He gulped and turned to look at Kyle, taking in every detail, starting from the messy head of curls and those dark eyes staring right back at him, drinking him in. Marshall blushed and dropped his eyes, following the lines of his neck to his chest, and lower. Now Marshall was certain Kyle worked out, he was just the right kind of fit. He paused at Kyle's wrists, reaching out to grab the left one and turning it palm-up.

"I thought I saw something red last time..." Marshall bit off the rest of that sentence, remembering exactly what he'd been doing when he noticed Kyle's tattoos. He ran a finger across the Celtic design, noting that the image wrapped all the way around his wrist like a bracelet.

"What do you think?" Kyle asked. Marshall looked up guiltily when he realized he'd been staring at Kyle's tattoo for much longer than necessary. Kyle stared down at him openly, a very rare sight.

"They're interesting, really well done. What do they mean?" Marshall asked. Kyle shrugged, grinning sheepishly.

"No clue. I saw something similar online and told the tattoo guy 'fuck that, I want my own style. Make it wrap all the way around, and add some flare to it'." Marshall looked closer. The Celtic cross did look unique. At the center of the cross, where the two beams crossed, there looked to be a labyrinth interlaced within it. Kyle firmly pulled his wrist back, dragging Marshall out of his daze once again.

"Can I have that back now?" Kyle teased. "You know, if I wasn't so proud of those tattoos, I'd be much more offended that they're what's holding your attention." Marshall rolled his eyes at the comment and released his grip, stepping back to admire Kyle's lovely upper body. He'd yet to stare at the lower half, though he was curious as all hell.

Finally mustering up his resolve, Marshall's eyes drifted lower. And his eyes widened immensely. Kyle wasn't porno-huge, but he was damn close, and he looked thick. He wasn't sure what he was feeling as he stared at the prominent manhood sticking up and curving slightly to the left, but he did have a frightening urge to touch it. He quenched that curious desire fast. He wasn't ready for that, not in the slightest. Quickly pulling his gaze away, Marshall sought Kyle's eyes. As arrogant as those eyes were, Marshall's fears quieted as he stared into Kyle's deep hazel irises.

"Alright, enough leering." Kyle announced. "Come on." He waved his hands in a 'come hither' motion and stood next to the bed. Marshall straightened his shoulders and cleared the distance between them with a sure gait. Kyle gave him a look that said 'you're totally my bitch' when he approached that Marshall chose to ignore. He stopped a few inches away from Kyle, who stood at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. Marshall eyed the enormous bed(noting the gossamer canopy was a shimmering silver this time, rather than the deep forest green) with trepidation.

Thankfully Marshall hadn't spotted the dreaded handcuffs in his inspection. When he looked back at Kyle, Marshall knew he'd been caught in the act.

"You know, I hadn't considered the cuffs until I saw your face just now." Marshall's mouth widened as he panicked, trying to find the words to speak, to argue, to do something to keep from being chained up again. Kyle laughed and shook his head, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Kidding. Just kidding. You're too gullible, you know that?" Marshall's body language relaxed slightly, and he whacked Kyle's chest.

"Dick." Marshall grumbled. Kyle grinned brighter.

"Well, if that's what you were looking for..." Kyle grabbed his wrists firmly and pulled Marshall against his chest, and Marshall got the first full contact of a naked man in his life. He jolted, head pulling back, and Kyle's hands drifted down to Marshall's lower back, holding him close. Then Marshall felt it, that hot slab of cock between Kyle's legs, pressing against his thigh. Marshall panicked, heart pounding rapidly in his chest. His breath rushed out in a huge gush and his hands dug into Kyle's shoulder blades.

Never, ever, ever did Marshall expect to feel another man's cock against his leg, or anywhere near him. Ever. Standing there with Kyle's arms tight around him like steel bars, chest rubbing against his own as Marshall heaved and shook, Marshall was no longer sure of himself. He didn't want this. It was too much. He needed to get out. Now.

But Marshall didn't move. His nails bit into Kyle's skin, but Marshall was pulling him closer, not pushing him away. Marshall breathed in and his head dropped against Kyle's shoulder as he focused on every inhale and exhale. Marshall didn't know what to do. Was he gay? Wasn't he supposed to want to suck cock and bend over? He shook his head, discounting the stupid thoughts. Of course he wouldn't magically want everything, hadn't he already made a point of that? But he was so unsure about everything. He'd wanted this. Being with Shelly and only wanting Kyle proved that. He admitted it. He wanted Kyle. So he needed to stop acting like a scared little kid without a nightlight and grow a pair, since he obviously lost his when he left his dignity at the front door.

Marshall steeled himself and straightened, not pulling away but lifting his head to meet Kyle's eyes.

Kyle himself hadn't moved a muscle while Marshall flipped his shit, but as Marshall tried to push Kyle away to figure out what he was supposed to do, Kyle shifted his stance, rubbing their cocks together just once, just barely. Marshall sucked in a breath and moaned, because he'd never felt anything quite like that. He stared at Kyle with wide, unblinking eyes.

"What did you--"

"Shh." Kyle cut him off, rubbing Marshall's back slowly to ease the tensed muscles beneath his fingers. As soon as Marshall realized he was still poised to run, he relaxed visibly. Kyle's hands running up and down his spine felt familiar and calming, and sent tingling pin-pricks through his nervous system. He was firm and unyielding, the exact opposite of a woman's hands, the way the coarse skin elicited reassurance rather than the itch a female's light touch usually caused. Kyle knew exactly how much force Marshall wanted, probably because he felt the same when other people touched him.

That idea sent a pang of emotion through him and Marshall wrested his thoughts from Kyle's hands and where they may have been and instead focused on Kyle's expression. He seemed surprisingly patient, if a little amused. As soon as Marshall caught his eye, Kyle went into motion, as if he were waiting for Marshall to adapt himself to the situation. And Kyle, for his part, said nothing about Marshall's near hysteria. Instead, one hand released his shoulder and Kyle leaned back slightly, keeping their groins close together, not that Marshall was all that desperate to get away.

At least, not yet.

The hand Kyle had taken away suddenly reappeared, gripping both of their dripping erections and stroking slowly, incrementally building up the momentum. Marshall groaned and tipped back his head, mouth falling open as he fell into the most amazing feeling he'd ever experienced. He remembered when Kyle rubbed against him through denim, but he never expected that.

And Marshall was shocked to hear Kyle moan against his ear, the soft, deep sound reverberating through Marshall's body. Even more astonishing, he felt his cock jump and grow ever harder from the mere sound of Kyle's arousal.

Marshall's hips thrust in time with Kyle's hand and he finally felt the last tendrils of fear and worry disappear in the wake of desire. He felt himself building faster, tightening all over as he groaned, bucking into Kyle's hand. He was so very close, just a few more strokes would set him off. Suddenly Kyle's hand was gone and he pushed Marshall back, Kyle ignoring the hands reaching out to feel him again.

"Get on the bed." Kyle ordered. Marshall scrambled onto the matching silver comforter, ignoring that little voice in his head that kept saying 'wow aren't you an easy lay?' and sat down with his legs bent at the knees, back pressed against the wrought iron bars of the headboard. Marshall turned to stare at Kyle, who gleamed in the somber lighting of the bedside lamps.

"Lay back." Marshall obeyed without a second thought, scooting down until his head rested against the pillow and his hands laid on the tops of his thighs. His eyes found the metal just above his head and his fingers tightened on his legs.

That little voice of Marshall's still questioned Kyle, wondering if he'd go back on his word and pull out the cuffs, restrain him against his will. Marshal wondered if he would even mind. The shiver of desire gave him the impression that 'against his will' no longer fit the bill. If Kyle asked, Marshall would have hung upside down on a damn sex swing for him.

When did Marshall become so much of a whore for Kyle?

"Raise your hands above your head and grabbed the bars." Marshall turned to gaze at Kyle, who slowly climbed onto the bed himself. He placed a hand on each of Marshall's thighs and leaned down to press their lips together briefly. Marshall's hands roamed up Kyle's back to twist into his hair, trying to prolong the kiss.

Kyle smacked his hip lightly and sat back.

"I won't use the cuffs, but I want your hands out of my way. Grab the bars and don't let go until I say so."

"Or what?" Marshall couldn't stop the near whisper slipping past his lips, and Kyle's face lit up with emotion. He reached down to caress Marshall's cheek and closed the distance between them again, stopping millimeters from pressing his lips into Marshall's.

"I'll punish you." Was his sultry reply. Marshall shuddered, but didn't move for a few long moments. Kyle's hand tightened on his cheek. After another tense second of resistance, Marshall's hand reluctantly reached up to grip the cold iron.

"Good choice." Kyle smirked, though Marshall wasn't sure that was true. Marshall almost wanted to feel Kyle's punishment. He wondered briefly what Kyle would do to him, but quickly forgot everything as he felt Kyle's hands moving down his skin, and he gripped the bars as tight as he physically could.

Kyle pressed his thumbs into Marshall's inner thighs and used his knees to hold them in place. Marshall never felt more vulnerable or at someone's mercy like this, yet he was surprisingly unafraid. No, he was in anticipation. What else could Kyle's hands do that he never felt before?

Kyle's lips descended, claiming Marshall's as he knew how to do so well, but after a brief taste, Kyle dropped from his mouth and kissed the base of Marshall's ear, licking down his jaw line. Sparks ignited against his skin and his eyes fluttered closed, savoring Kyle's tongue flicking across his skin. The sensation of Kyle's wet tongue delighted Marshall, who expected much less gentle ministrations. Kyle licked and kissed down Marshall's jaw to his neck.

Marshall gasped as Kyle's teeth dug into his tender flesh, and he tipped his head back to give Kyle better access. His hands flexed against the bars and he resisted the urge to let go. Barely.

Kyle continued down Marshall's neck, alternating between rough bites and suction kisses. When he reached Marshall's collarbone, he bit down more than hard enough to bruise. Marshall groaned and pulled back, intensifying the bite when Kyle refused to let go.

"What are you trying to do, brand me?" Marshall gasped. Kyle's silent laughter shook through him and he released Marshall's poor reddened skin, kissing the teeth marks.

"Yeah, got a problem with that?" Kyle winked and bit lightly on his chest. Marshall sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

"Would it matter if I did?" Marshall avoided answering and Kyle shook his head, grinning.

"Not really." Kyle dipped down and bit Marshall's nipple. Marshall arched into him, a moan ripping from his throat. He clung so hard to the bars the iron bit into his skin, but he barely noticed.

"Dammit, Kyle." He panted. "You're trying to kill me aren't you?" He huffed. Kyle looked up at him curiously, then dropped his eyes. When he returned his gaze to Marshall's he was as smug as Marshall had ever seen him.

"Are you mad because you're enjoying this so much?" Marshall avoided his gaze and Kyle laughed. "You do! Who knew you harbored such violent kinks." He teased.

"Fuck off." Marshall grumbled. Kyle ignored him in favor of leaving another mark on Marshall's abdomen. He licked and bit every muscle before nibbling Marshall's hip bones. Marshall wiggled underneath Kyle and bucked instinctively. Kyle smacked his stomach.

"None of that." Kyle reprimanded, moving to his other hip for a kiss before licking the crease between his thigh and groin. Marshall bucked again, straining toward Kyle's mouth. Kyle pulled back and smacked him harder.

"Didn't I already warn you about that?" Kyle questioned. "Do it again and you'll regret it." Marshall winced and Kyle scooted down until he reached Marshall's thighs. Kyle nipped playfully at the skin, sucking hard until Marshall swore and opened his legs further. Kyle's mouth roved inward and up, ever so slowly approaching Marshall's aching need. His tongue danced slow circles, drifting closer and closer.

A phone broke the silence of Marshall's desperation and Kyle's mouth stopped moving. He leaned back and Marshall whined loudly at the crushing disappointment, wrapping his legs around Kyle's waist and tightened. Kyle grinned wickedly.

"Hold on. Gotta answer that." Marshall glared.

"Would it kill you to let it go to voice-mail?" Marshall demanded. Kyle held up a finger and hopped off the bed, after first prying Marshall's legs away from him. As Kyle answered, Marshall muttered, "Tease." Kyle glared.

"H-hello?" Came his meek greeting. A pause where Marshall couldn't hear the response ensued before Kyle spoke up again. "Oh, h-hi. Ho-how are y-you?" Marshall shifted uncomfortably. He was aching, bad.

"I'm f-fine. May I a-ask why you're ca-calling?" After a pause, Kyle looked over at Marshall with the most terrifying smile he had ever seen. Fear struck his heart and Marshall bit his lip so hard it almost bled.

Dear god. What does he have in store now?

"S-sure, that sounds g-great. I'll ta-talk to you l-later." With that Kyle strode back over to the bed and bent over Marshall, hovering an inch from his face.

"Who was that?" Marshall choked out before Kyle pressed him into a kiss. The kiss was long and delicious and Marshall let go of the bars to cup Kyle's face, glad to note Kyle didn't shove his hands away. Actually, Kyle's hands circled his hips, rubbing them slowly.