Huo Wensi is scheming when he hears Luo Fei enter his office suite.
Luo Fei doesn't usually visit at this hour. But then, Luo Fei’s disdain for such trivialities as ordinary schedules have been a thorn in Huo Wensi’s side since they first met; he wouldn’t expect the man to be any better about it now.
Even if Huo Wensi has attempted to teach him the benefits of respecting Huo Wensi’s own schedule, or at least calling ahead before he arrives.
Those benefits range from “Not arguing about payment for services rendered” to “Allowing Luo Fei to choose which sexual acts they partake in,” depending on Huo Wensi’s mood and why Luo Fei is coming to him. It’s been even odds about cases or carnal favors, and Huo Wensi has been tracking Luo Fei’s tells to better predict which one he comes for on any given day.
Luo Fei is barging through his waiting room and picking the lock into his personal office, which means he’s taken silence as an invitation, which means he’s bored. Therefore, Huo Wensi thinks, he’s here for sex.
Huo Wensi sighs and gathers up the papers he’d scattered on his desk. Nobody else would invade his privacy in such a way, and he’d thought Luo Fei was busy with the police, so he’d taken the opportunity to review his personal files, instead of his personnel files. Huo Wensi doesn’t want Luo Fei seeing either set of papers, but at least his public client list would not cause Luo Fei to begin seeking out the cracks in his mask.
He has exactly enough time to hide the most incriminating pages inside their folders, and turn those folders label-side-down on the desk, before Luo Fei bursts in.
Huo Wensi crowds into his space in response, shoving him right back against the door he’d just opened. It slams shut behind Luo Fei’s back, and Luo Fei’s eyes go wide in a very satisfying way as Huo Wensi tightens his grip on Luo Fei’s shoulders. “What have I said about knocking?” Huo Wensi asks, keeping his voice calm and reasonable despite the amount he wants to tear into Luo Fei. “Or, perhaps, calling?”
Luo Fei is absolutely unrepentant. His hands are already reaching beneath Huo Wensi’s jacket, and his hips are canted towards Huo Wensi’s. It shouldn’t be endearing, the way he begs with his body even as his face tries to mold itself to insouciant flippancy. “But Dr. Huo,” he says, though his eyes are too dilated for the act to work, “what if I like you this way?”
Huo Wensi moves a hand from Luo Fei’s lapel to his throat. He slides the V of his thumb and forefinger up until he’s shoved Luo Fei’s jaw closed and the heel of his hand rests on Luo Fei’s larynx. Luo Fei’s nostrils flare. His hands drag desperately at Huo Wensi’s hips. He whines.
Every reaction thrills Huo Wensi. His skin tingles, his cock burns, his mouth opens slightly to show his teeth—
He turns that final reaction into crisp words. “I was working.” Huo Wensi smooths his hand down Luo Fei’s chest and presses against his navel, forcing Luo Fei’s hips against the wall. This isn’t why Huo Wensi maintains his body—exercise is as good for the brain as the muscles, he’s found—but a modicum of fighting prowess has its advantages in the underworld.
Luo Fei, for all his intellect—perhaps, Huo Wensi sometimes thinks, because of that intellect—has never been very good in a brawl.
He is also currently gasping against Huo Wensi’s left palm and squirming against his right, scrabbling with his hands in an attempt to draw Huo Wensi closer. His jaw works, but Huo Wensi doesn’t give him enough leeway for more than a whisper. “Wensi, please,” Luo Fei manages, and Huo Wensi isn’t sure if he missed the first syllable or if Luo Fei omitted it entirely.
Either way, Huo Wensi smiles. He does so love to hear Luo Fei beg. He lowers his hand slightly, but keeps his fingers wrapped around Luo Fei’s throat. “Please what?”
“I need a distraction,” Luo Fei says. For a man so willing to be blunt in most other realms, he’s charmingly evasive about broaching the topic of sex. His euphemisms change: a distraction, some entertainment, a way to get out of his head. The reason is always the same: Luo Fei has too much energy and has been convinced—by Huo Wensi and his own brain—that this is the safest and most productive outlet for his excess energy.
It’s not, but it’s certainly the most pleasant and stimulating for Huo Wensi.
Huo Wensi steps closer. His legs are between Luo Fei’s now, and Luo Fei’s face is tilted up to his—but only because Luo Fei’s been slouching since he was first shoved against the door. When he stands up straight, they’re the same height; however, most people think Huo Wensi is the taller, because he knows the power of good posture and Luo Fei simply doesn’t care.
“And so you distract me from my work?” Huo Wensi tsks in Luo Fei’s face. He’s close enough to feel Luo Fei’s breath now, to smell the tobacco smoke that lingers around him. A bad habit. One Huo Wensi itches to fix, but Luo Fei does not consent to his care in that way.
(If he could— If he did— Huo Wensi has considered many things he could do with a mind like Luo Fei’s under his hypnotic influence.
But he won’t.
It grates on Huo Wensi, but he cannot do anything but carefully tempt Luo Fei into his realm and make him a frog in a boiling pot, to steal a charming metaphor from abroad.)
When Luo Fei opens his mouth to reply, Huo Wensi kisses him.
Luo Fei’s head slams back against the door from the force, and the sound almost muffles his groan as Huo Wensi sucks Luo Fei’s lower lip into his own mouth and sinks his teeth into it. Huo Wensi grabs his waist, pulls their bodies fully together, grinds his hip into Luo Fei’s crotch and swallows the cry from Luo Fei’s throat.
They have had sex in his office before. On his desk, on his reading chair, on the couch he keeps for clients’ use. Huo Wensi prefers those to what his plan is today, because it takes more effort for them both to remain standing. Still, he’d rather spend this effort than chance Luo Fei seeing a paper he missed, or give Luo Fei a chance to wonder at the hidden folders.
So Huo Wensi leans back from Luo Fei (who whines; he’s such a good boy when he’s like this, so needy and pliant) and says, “Turn around. Undo your trousers.”
Luo Fei’s look of protest fades at the second command, and he nods. His hands are quick and delicate; Huo Wensi loves seeing his fingers wrapped around a cock or sinking into Luo Fei’s own ass. Neither of those will happen today. Luo Fei wants a distraction, and Huo Wensi is annoyed by this, and so he isn’t planning to make this nice.
By this point, Luo Fei has to know that. He’s clever, and much of the time he only plays at his mind having been shut off by fucking.
If he is agreeing to be fucked against the door—dry, because even Luo Fei isn’t brazen enough to walk over with vaseline or the like already in his ass—then that is within his acceptable parameters for “distraction.” Huo Wensi files that away; he hadn’t pushed Luo Fei this far recently, and he’d expected a little more push-back.
Still, he likes seeing Luo Fei turn around, trousers loose around his waist and forearms braced on the door. Huo Wensi caresses Luo Fei’s waist for a moment, enjoying the contrast between his crisp shirt and the coming indecency, then hooks his thumbs into the waist of Luo Fei’s undergarments and shoves them and the trousers both down Luo Fei’s thighs. He doesn’t care if they stay there; he just cares that this reveals Luo Fei’s ass.
“You’re being so good,” Huo Wensi observes. He pauses as he unbuckles his own belt; these Pavlovian associations are important. The sound is a cue, and Luo Fei responds by working his legs as far apart as he can manage. “Excellent. So obedient for me.”
He cuts off Luo Fei’s ability to argue by reaching between his legs and grabbing Luo Fei’s testicles. Luo Fei moans and thrusts his hips back towards Huo Wensi. “Zhuren,” he says, and that goes straight to Huo Wensi’s own cock.
Huo Wensi massages Luo Fei’s balls and murmurs, “Yes, you’re being very good,” in reward. His other hand pushes his own pants out of the way and frees his cock. He strokes it, along with Luo Fei’s, until they’re both heavy in his hands. Luo Fei keeps whining and pushing back against him, but his hands stay steady on the door and Huo Wensi praises him. He doesn’t need to think to offer this praise; he wants Luo Fei to associate him with pleasure in this way, and it’s easy when Luo Fei’s been training himself to Huo Wensi’s will.
When Huo Wensi judges himself sufficiently aroused, he withdraws his hand from Luo Fei’s cock. He replies to Luo Fei’s complaint with, “You wanted to be fucked,” as he spreads Luo Fei’s ass. It’s a simple matter, after so much practice, to align himself with Luo Fei and push in.
Luo Fei spasms, fingernails grating on the wooden door.
Huo Wensi strokes his back. “Relax,” he commands, as he does every time, and Luo Fei does.
It’s not hypnotism—he could do much more with hypnosis—but simple paired associations are deliciously effective on their own.
Huo Wensi slides himself into Luo Fei. It’s so satisfying to feel his heat, to know that he has taken this space and made it his. That Luo Fei has opened himself in this most intimate way, and allows Huo Wensi to use him.
Huo Wensi grips Luo Fei’s hips and, very slowly, starts rocking in and out of Luo Fei. He doesn’t need this to hurt. He wants Luo Fei to like this, because only if Luo Fei enjoys this will he keep coming back.
And if Luo Fei stops coming to him—
Huo Wensi thrusts into Luo Fei, harder than he meant to, and Luo Fei trembles against him. “Zhuren,” Luo Fei gasps, “you don’t need to be gentle.”
As well as Huo Wensi knows Luo Fei’s buttons, Luo Fei must know his. Huo Wensi grunts acknowledgement, agreement, understanding. He wishes he could use more words, but Good is the only word he can shape when Luo Fei calls him Master like this.
Good boy, because Luo Fei is, right now, asking for not just what he wants but what Huo Wensi wants. Huo Wensi tells him this, words slipping from his tongue as he grabs Luo Fei’s rumpled waistcoat and shoves it higher on his torso.
Good, because that’s what this feels like. Huo Wensi adjusts his stance and his grip and fucks Luo Fei properly; the friction burns against his own cock, and Huo Wensi groans at the additional sensation of almost-pain running through him and heightening the pleasure tightening his balls.
On the door, Luo Fei’s hands clench into fists. His breath comes fast and ragged, panting in time with Huo Wensi’s thrusts. And that’s good, because Huo Wensi likes seeing Luo Fei fall apart. He likes turning Luo Fei’s ticking clock of a mind into a wildly spinning array of springs and gears that only knows need.
It thrills him, the same way it thrills him to see someone sleepwalk under his commands. The same way it thrills him to find the perfect place to prod a person’s psyche to make them admit their unforgivable flaws (which Huo Wensi can then gently pick up and prove not-so-unforgivable, and use to bind a client to him in pathetic gratitude). The same way it thrills him to stand in a crime scene next to Luo Fei and see how it was committed and how he could do better even as he tells Luo Fei what he needs to know to solve the mystery.
Huo Wensi fucks Luo Fei and tells him how good he is and how good he feels, and only when he spills himself inside Luo Fei’s ass does he reach around almost-lovingly to take Luo Fei’s cock in hand. It doesn’t take long, after that, for Luo Fei to shudder and clench around Huo Wensi’s cock and send hot come dripping across his hand.
Luo Fei’s hair sticks to the back of his sweaty neck as he slides down the door to collapse at Huo Wensi’s feet. A pretty image, Huo Wensi thinks, even as he grimaces at his now-sticky hand.
In the moment, he always likes how it feels to have Luo Fei so vulnerable to him. After, all he can think about is how he’d like to cleanse himself but keep Luo Fei just as messy.
Huo Wensi pulls out a handkerchief to wipe first his hand and then his cock. He refuses to flinch at how sensitive his cock is to the fine cotton. “Better, A-Fei?” he asks, the pet name Huo Wensi’s only concession to how fond he is of Luo Fei in these moments. Neither of them would use such names at other times; this is his own admission of weakness, even as it tells Luo Fei how much he matters. An vulnerability that Huo Wensi wishes he could avoid, but cannot, and so tries to use as intentionally as possible to bind Luo Fei closer to him.
Luo Fei grins up at him, red-faced and disheveled. “Excellent distraction,” he says, the words only a little slurred. “Much appreciated.”
Huo Wensi can’t help his fond chuckle. He re-fastens his trousers, then bends down and wipes come off Luo Fei’s cock as well. When he pulls Luo Fei’s own trousers up—aided by Luo Fei lifting his ass off the floor—he can’t help but pat Luo Fei’s cock gently as he tucks it back into place. “I really was in the middle of work,” Huo Wensi says, smiling sweet and apologetic. “As much as I like spending time with you, I should return.”
Luo Fei sighs, and reaches up to tug Huo Wensi into a much gentler kiss than the one they began with. “I know, I know,” he murmurs against Huo Wensi’s lips. “Thank you for this.”
Huo Wensi strokes his hair. “Of course,” he says, and tugs Luo Fei to his feet. He sees Luo Fei’s face tense and then actively smooth out; he’ll be feeling that fucking for the next hour at least, Huo Wensi thinks smugly. “I can give you more time if you schedule it, Luo Fei.”
Luo Fei’s laugh is familiar, as is his cocky grin as he says, “But where’s the fun in that?”
Huo Wensi shakes his head, but can’t shake his smile as Luo Fei saunters out his door.