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Whenever Charles’ boss on this temp job snapped at him, lost his temper, or made some withering comment to anyone in this office, Charles pictured him kneeling naked, wrists bound behind his back as he stared up at Charles, green eyes wide and worshipful, his handsome face spattered with Charles’ come.
It was just about all that was getting him through these days.
Not surprising for a lowly temp like himself, a fantasy about taking his very powerful, very egotistical boss down a peg. To strip him out of those perfect tailored dark suits, to imagine the feeling of his short gingery hair in Charles’ pulling hands, and what the welts on his skin would look like when Charles pinched him, bit him, slapped him. The sound of his low, wrecked voice as he thanked Charles, then begged him for more.
Meanwhile, in reality, Charles sent several faxes (faxes, for God’s sake), bought toner, brewed coffee, placed orders, and took calls. And he sorted out the catering and helped put up the decorations for the office holiday party. Goodness, if only this place would hire him on full time.
Actually, hiring him on full time would almost be a great idea. Even a job like this, full time and permanent with benefits, would help Charles get out from under the thumb of his stepfather. But putting up with Erik any longer? Not worth it. He was insufferable, infuriating…. Although Charles would miss seeing him every day in the sense that it fueled his fantasies, that was what memory and imagination were for.
After today, however, Charles wouldn’t be surprised if he were fired. Not after what he had planned as his little bit of revenge. In fact, he was betting he would be. Oh, what he had thought of was harmless enough, and if need be he could use his telepathic powers to make everyone forget about it, after all. Everyone, that was, except Erik.
He walked past Erik’s office on the way to the breakroom, where the tree and presents were set up. As a lark, someone had put mistletoe above Erik’s door. Erik, who happened to be Jewish, paid no mind to the red and green decorations, and furthermore had been in meetings in his office all morning, anyway. Charles didn’t need his mutant ability -- which appeared nowhere on his resume and wasn’t mentioned in his interview with the temp agency -- to tell that Erik was not in a very good mood. He had in fact been shouting behind his closed door most of the morning.
What an unpleasant man. What an unpleasant, incredibly hot man.
Charles looked for and found a certain small box under the tree, one with silver wrapping and a tag with Erik’s name on it, and nothing in the “From” section. As the other employees filed in, Charles, smiling to himself, went to the boombox to turn on the Christmas music. Soon enough, the breakroom was full, and everyone was there except for Erik. They all looked at each other, none of them willing to go get him. With a sigh, Charles went to Erik’s office door.
As his hand was poised to knock, the door swung open inwardly, with force (Erik, who was also a mutant but open about it, frequently used his ability to control metal and magnetism around the office, something which was actually quite key to Charles’ gift for him), and Erik strode toward him with a coffee mug in his hand, looking furious, then surprised when he realized Charles was there. “Yes, what is it,” Erik growled. He looked suddenly up at the mistletoe above them, and scoffed loudly. “Keep dreaming, Xavier.”
“It’s the office holiday party, sir,” Charles said, keeping his expression as neutral as he could. “In the breakroom.”
“I’m Jewish,” Erik said with a dismissive wave.
“I know. It’s not a Christmas party per se,” Charles said. “Anyway it’s catered and there are presents. Everyone gets a present,” he added, thinking Even the assholes.
“I need more coffee anyway,” Erik sighed, as if all of this were far beneath him, and brushed past Charles with an air of impatience. Charles followed him down the hall. Erik cut a nice figure in his slim, expensive clothes, with his broad shoulders and narrow hips. Charles pictured his fingers digging into them, leaving bruises.
The breakroom had a friendlier atmosphere now, with employees having started to snack and chat and drink punch, the music blaring happily away. That all changed with Erik’s arrival. Casting a stern look over them all, Erik took his mug to the coffeemaker, and everyone looked quite uncomfortable, conversation dying down.
“Presents, I think,” Charles suggested loudly. Grateful for the distraction, the employees started to crowd around the tree, searching for their names, passing their gifts around.
“Whose is that?” someone asked, pointing to the box Charles had wrapped for Erik. Pretending ignorance, Charles went over to it and picked it up. “It’s for Erik,” he announced, and handed it to him; he took it with a grunt of annoyance. Charles could tell, though, that he was curious.
They began to open their presents. Charles was given a nice paperweight shaped like a butterfly, which he thought was probably from a girl called Angel, who could fly. But he could barely concentrate on it, so distracted was he by wanting to know what Erik’s reaction would be to his gift.
Erik, sipping his coffee and looking as if he were brooding, hadn’t opened his yet. Instead, he seemed lost in thought -- about his earlier meetings, no doubt. Charles didn’t pry. Clearing his throat, Erik set his coffee cup aside as everyone turned to look. Biting his lip, he ripped off the wrapping paper. At the sight of that lip-bite and those downcast eyes, Charles felt a brief pulse in his cock. Remembering what he’d given Erik, he felt another one.
Under the wrapping was a plain white box, about the size and width of a forearm. Erik popped the tape at the ends, and pulled out white tissue paper. Wrapped in the tissue paper was nothing other than an unmistakable and quite large metal dildo.
Stunned, staring at it in his palm, Erik turned bright red, and swallowed. The breakroom was completely silent.
A note fluttered out from within the tissue paper and landed on the floor. Charles bent to pick it up, then straightened up and read it aloud. “With which to go fuck yourself.” He couldn’t help smiling.
He looked to Erik, who was staring at him, speechless, mouth parted and eyes wide. “Xavier,” he said, “my office. Now.”
With everyone staring at them, some horrified, some scandalized, some stifling laughter, Charles followed Erik out of the breakroom. Quickly, Charles used his ability to minimize everything that had just happened: made them think Erik had just dragged Charles off to yell at him again. Nothing interesting, back to the party.
“Explain yourself,” Erik said as they walked into his office. He sat back in his chair, and placed the dildo on his desk. Evidently it was clear he knew Charles had given it to him.
“The note seemed quite straightforward, I thought,” Charles said, folding his arms.
“You think you can embarrass me in front of all of my employees?” Erik leaned forward, arms on the desk. He looked almost amused.
“You think you can embarrass your employees in front of each other every single day?”
“Is that what this is about, my management style?”
“Hardly a style,” Charles said. “Not very conducive to productivity, keeping everyone on edge all the time, not sure what will set you off.”
Charles heard the door slowly swing shut behind him, and then lock. He glanced back at it, then turned around to find Erik loosening his tie, then shedding his suit jacket.
“What--”
“You wanted me to fuck myself with it.” Erik’s long, nimble fingers unbuttoned his dress shirt. “Before I fire you, you might as well watch me do it. No one will ever believe you,” he added, peeling his shirt off and then tugging off his undershirt.
“Wait,” Charles said.
Erik, shirtless now, paused.
“Belt around your wrists. Use your power,” Charles said.
Erik unbuckled his belt and pulled it out through the loops without touching it, and wrapped it around his wrists, before him on the desk.
“I have lube in my desk drawer,” Erik said, nodding toward it.
“If only I’d known,” Charles said. “I’d have had you bent over this desk time enough before now.” He opened the drawer and found the lube, and took the dildo to spread lube on it. “Zip down, use your power. On your knees,” he added, moving the chair back out of Erik’s way. He watched, savoring it, as Erik shifted to kneel on the floor, his unzipped trousers hanging loose now on his thighs. The lines of his body were long and lean, more graceful even than Charles had imagined. “Keep this in the air,” he told Erik, indicating the dildo.
Kneeling behind him, Charles yanked down Erik’s briefs, and squeezed his tight little arse with both hands. Erik inhaled sharply, and shuddered, arching his back. Still holding him like that, Charles parted his cheeks, and slipped a slick thumb over Erik’s hole, rubbing at it. Erik groaned.
“Go on, then, fuck yourself,” Charles said.
Erik floated the dildo toward himself, and nudged at his hole with it, teasing. It was more than what Charles could have dreamed. He was straining against his clothes to spread his thighs wider; Charles spread him open more, watching him press the dildo into himself. His volatile, ill-tempered boss, now half-naked on the floor of his office for Charles, about to fuck himself on a sizeable metal dildo. His fine control was evident as he took shuddering breaths, easing it into himself with aching slowness.
“That’s right,” Charles whispered. “More, Erik. It’s what you need. Can’t you sense that metal?”
Groaning, Erik took it deeper. His skin had a faint flush of pink. Excitement poured off of him in waves. He was an entirely different man.
Charles stood, and took hold of Erik’s hair, pulling his head back. He quickly undid his trousers with his free hand. “Suck,” he told Erik, who was all too eager, taking Charles’ hard cock in his mouth, lips slick over it, tongue stroking him.
He moved over Charles’ cock in time with the movement of the dildo fucking him, as Charles could tell from the way he grunted at each thrust of it, feeling the grunt all through him. As Charles got close, he pulled his cock from Erik’s mouth, and wanked off quickly, coming all over Erik’s lips and chin. Erik, still hard, working himself on the dildo with Charles’ come on his face, blinked up at him. Charles knew he wanted desperately to orgasm, but of course he couldn’t touch himself with his hands bound.
“I’ll only let you come,” Charles said, “if you promise not to fire me, and you promise to stop being a bastard to your employees.”
“All right, all right, fine,” Erik agreed, nodding frantically. “Just… honestly, Charles, come on.” Charles dropped to his knees and wanked him, drinking in the sight of his gorgeous half-naked boss, panting as he came, fucking himself on the dildo Charles had given him.
That was how Charles ended up getting not only not fired, but hired, and a promotion. His fellow employees forever afterward always expressed amazement at Erik’s complete about-face in the office, but none of them connected it with the holiday party dildo, because none of them really remembered that. They also didn’t remember the very long and heated kiss later that evening between a very disheveled Charles and Erik under the mistletoe over Erik’s office door.