Page 63 of Under Construction

"UV-resistant glass." Dennis slouches against the wall, hands tucked in his pockets, smirking as he raps his knuckles against the pristine surface. He can't hold back his grin anymore. "Had to preserve it for posterity."

"You're actuallyinsane, you psycho!"

"Is that right?" Dennis’s voice lilts up with an eyebrow, sounding equal parts amused and innocent. "Says the employee who sent his boss unsolicited nudes."

"That was different!" Chris grips his chest like a scandalized Victorian lady with pearls to clutch.

He circles the desk, eyes still glued to his framed—very enlarged, very hard, very veiny dick—like it might detach and bounce across the floor. "I wasliterallyandtechnicallytrying to piss you off."

Dennis’s head falls back as laughter erupts from his chest. God, it feels good to have someone who gets his slightly twisted, very lame sense of humor.

"And I was trying to get back at you, so, winning!" He drops into his chair sideways, both legs slung over the arm, smug as anything.

"Been waiting months for you to see it,” he says, sighing happily. He cranes his neck to look up at Chris, big smile on his face.

"Yeah?" Chris takes a step behind him, then hands land on his shoulders, strong fingers digging into knots Dennis didn't even know he had.

A moan escapes as his head lolls side to side, muscles melting under Chris's touch. Fuck, that feels amazing.

"That why you brought me here? To show off your interior decorating?" Chris chuckles. "I can't believe you planned this, you nutjob."

"The framing? Yes,” Dennis admits, clicking his tongue and wiggling his shoulders when Chris kneadsjustright at a spot that’s been killing him. “The emergency permit situation?” He tilts his head to the side to rub his cheek across Chris’s thumb in thanks. “Surprisingly no."

"You're actually evil, Dennis Kim."

"Hey," Dennis taps Chris's fingers when they pause, demanding more of that heavenly massage. "It's not my dick up there. Maybe you shouldn't have let it out of your pants."

"And look how well that worked out." Chris's hands abandon Dennis’s shoulders, ignoring his disappointed complainy noises.

Before Dennis can turn to sulk at Chris properly, Chris spins his chair around. Gathers his legs and drops them back on the floor.

"Youdidframe it."

"For revenge." But Dennis’s breath hitches as Chris kicks his legs apart.

"Working out great for you, isn't it boss?"

Chris drops to his knees, spreads Dennis’s thighs wider with his palms, then starts sliding his warm hands up and down to knead into the skin.

His fingers work the tired muscles until Dennis’s head falls back, throat exposed. It really has beensucha crazy long day.

"Real professional,” Chris says with a touch too much amusement.

"I am extremely—" Dennis’s words crack when Chris's mouth presses against his cock through his pants, nuzzling in hard.

"Fuck, Chris!" One hand tangles in Chris's thick hair, fingertips massaging his scalp while the other cradles his jaw, thumb tracing the stubble there.

These secret spots that only Dennis gets to touch, gets to know.

Chris leans into the touch like he's starved for it. It has, after all, been a whole day for him as well. A full day without the physical contact neither of them can seem to go without lately.

"Extremely what?” he snorts, burying his face into Dennis’s crotch again so he moans. “Professional?"

Chris peers up, eyes narrowed, face all sharp angles and impeccable bone structure that makes Dennis squirm in his seat. Seriously, what gives him the right to look this good?

"Want to try that again?" Chris says dryly, if a little muffled.

Dennis tries to keep his voice steady, tries to maintain some semblance of control. "Want to do your job and finish what you star—ah!”

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