Workplace Appropriate Attire, Killjoysverse fic

Nov 30, 2010 15:03

Title: Workplace Appropriate Attire
Fandom: Bandom, Killjoysverse
Pairing: Korse/Gerard
Rating: Adult
Author's note: Spoilers, as it were, for the SING video. Thanks to
ataratah for beta.

Summary: Korse is a creepy boyfriend.



"Gerard, I need to speak with you. Observation Room 4 in ten minutes," Korse says, walking at a clip past Gerard in the hall, gone before Gerard can even answer.

"You're in trouble," says a guy pushing a dolly stacked with white boxes. The white gloves he's wearing slide down and show his wrists, which are covered in tattoos, ink that seems to go in both directions, up his sleeves and down his hands. Gerard can’t help staring, and when he looks up into the guy's face, he's smirking.

"Gloves on at all times," a masked guard behind him says.

"Looks like I'm in trouble, too," he says to Gerard, and rushes off, still smirking.

Gerard can't find Observation Room 4, and after a few minutes of aimless wandering, and several dirty looks from people he keeps passing over and over, he finally asks someone.

"Korse went that way," the guy answers, before Gerard can get his question all the way out. It makes him a little paranoid that this guy already knows who Gerard is looking for.

"Thanks, Mikey," he says.

"Michael," the guy corrects, and Gerard sees it clearly on the nametag clipped to his shirt.

"Sorry," Gerard says, "I don't know why I - " and then he trails off. The guy stares at him, and scowls. Gerard hurries off in the direction he pointed, and finds Korse, looking at his watch.

"Close the door," Korse says, when Gerard steps into the room. As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, Korse says, "Come here, Gerard."

The room has a small window that looks out to the east end of Battery City, where the sky is clear and blue. The rest of the room looks like every other room in the BL/ind complex - shining so white you can almost see your reflection in the walls and the floors, but it's always just a little too bright so that everything blurs. White uniforms in white walls and white lights.

Gerard looks up at the window, at his blurred reflection, and finally at Korse, who steps forward, suddenly so close Gerard has to lean back to look at him properly.

It seems for a minute that Korse is going to un-holster Gerard's gun, but he smoothes his open palm down the side of Gerard's thigh, then looks up and smiles widely.

"Is my uniform incorrect?" Gerard asks, though he can already tell that’s not what Korse means by this gesture.

"No," Korse says, but doesn't move his hand.

"Oh," Gerard says, breathily.

"I've been waiting for this," Korse says, thumb moving across the seam of Gerard's pocket like he's thinking of sticking his fingers inside.

"This?" Gerard says, his voice going high. Gerard has been waiting for this, too, all of the time he's been working with Korse, all of the times he's felt Korse watching him. Gerard has thought - he's hoped - that Korse wants the same thing he does. That Korse wants this.

"I've been waiting to catch you," Korse says, and then he leans in, "To get my hands on you."

"You've caught me," Gerard says, and that earns him another smile.

"I have," Korse says. "Now what are you going to do?"

Gerard doesn't give himself time to think twice. He kisses Korse, who stills. Gerard can't be wrong, not with the current between them has hummed all the way through Gerard's body every time he felt Korse's eyes on him.

Korse doesn't kiss back and Gerard stumbles away.

"Sorry," he says, panicking, because he’s read this so wrong and he's going to be in so much trouble. "I-"

But then Korse laughs.

"You want that?" Korse asks. "You want to kiss me?"

"I'm sorry," Gerard says again, ready to say anything to make sure Korse doesn't deactivate him.

"Oh, no, you're not sorry," Korse says, and then he touches a finger to Gerard's lips, pressing gently into his mouth, so he's almost touching Gerard's teeth. Gerard breathes in deeply through his nose, trying to calm himself, trying not to give away how much he likes the way it feels. "What else do you want to do with that mouth?"

Korse tugs at Gerard's lip and Gerard lets his mouth fall open.

"You like my mouth?" Gerard says, faking bold, and Korse laughs again.

"I do, Gerard," he purrs. "I do."

Korse is the one to lean in this time and bring their mouths together, and Korse doesn't hold back, but kisses Gerard hot and filthy, licking inside Gerard's mouth, sliding their tongues together, grabbing the back of Gerard's head with both hands and holding him where he wants him. Gerard's making embarrassing noises he can't help, little broken off sounds that fill the room. Korse pulls back and the sound of their mouths parting is wet and obscene. Korse licks his lips and Gerard shivers. He's not sure what's going to happen next, because Korse is still standing so close, staring intently at him, and the hands that have been in Gerard's hair fall down to rest on his shoulders.

"You taste alive," Korse says. He leans in, breath hot on Gerard's neck, and murmurs against his skin, "So warm. Like you're still running away from me."

"I'm not," Gerard says, and tilts his head so his cheek brushes Korse's. He can feel Korse's grin against the side of his face.

"No, you aren't," Korse says, and he licks Gerard's throat, sucks on his neck just below his ear, on the spot that makes Gerard throw his head back. It thunks against the wall he's suddenly found himself backed up against and Korse pushes him the rest of the way, then he steps in, pressing his thigh between Gerard's legs. "I've caught you and even if you did get away, I would just catch you again."

"Yes," Gerard gasps, and Korse rocks his thigh up and Gerard groans. Korse sucks on his neck, rocking his thigh up, up, until Gerard's whimpering. "Please," he says, and Korse kisses him again. "Please," Gerard gasps as Korse slides his fingertips too softly up and down the inside of Gerard's thighs.

"Yes, keep begging," Korse says, and it's a weird echo of something familiar, something Gerard thinks Korse has said to him before. Gerard forgets it immediately when Korse nips at Gerard's bottom lip.

Korse slides his fingers over the pockets and the zipper of Gerard's pants, just fingertips at first, tracing the seams, but then he spreads his fingers out, slides them over and oh, oh, oh. Gerard lets his head fall back, tries to stop his hips from bucking up as Korse strokes his cock through his pants, cups it in his palm, traces the outline of the bulge.

"You're hard for me," Korse says. "Does it hurt? Are you aching?"

"Please," Gerard says, because he wants everything, because he doesn't want Korse to stop.

Korse licks Gerard's jaw, licks at the corner of his mouth, cups and strokes Gerard's cock through his pants until Gerard thinks he's in real danger of coming in his uniform.

"Korse," he gasps and Korse makes a low groan and so Gerard says his name again.

Korse unbuttons the front of Gerard's pants, slides down the zipper, reaches his hand inside and kisses away the sound Gerard makes when Korse wraps his fingers around Gerard's cock.

Gerard's so close, and the rough warm slide of Korse's fingers, the way his thumb brushes over the crown at each stroke is only bringing him closer. Gerard breaks the kiss to pant, eyes closed, hips moving forward, standing on the balls of his feet, arching up, hands on Korse's arms, holding tight.

"Please, Korse, please," Gerard says, and Korse groans and then Gerard's coming against Korse's hand.

Korse takes his messy hand out of Gerard's pants, looks at it in a way that makes Gerard flush with embarrassment.

"So alive," Korse says quietly, and then he holds his hand toward Gerard's face, and the request is unmistakable. Gerard licks Korse's hand clean, eyes closed, flushing with desire and shame, the bitter taste of himself and the dry, papery taste of Korse's skin. He licks along Korse's palm, down his wrist, over the pads of his fingers, long past when Korse's hand is clean, because Korse's breathing is getting unsteady. When he sucks two fingers all the way into his mouth, Korse groans again, and the sound is so thrilling, Gerard sucks harder and opens his eyes. Korse is staring at him, eyes wide and dark, mouth just barely parted. Gerard lets Korse's fingers go and looks up at him, waiting.

"Yes, do it," Korse says, and Gerard drops to his knees as Korse unfastens his pants.

Korse doesn't make a sound when Gerard takes his cock into his mouth, though his hands are tight on Gerard's shoulders, and Gerard closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling of having Korse like this, of being wanted. It's strangely quiet in the room, just the sound of Gerard's exhalations through his nose, the sloppy sounds of his mouth on Korse's cock, the rustling sound of his uniform.

For a weird moment, the guy with the smirk and the inked skin flashes through his mind.

It’s why it startles Gerard so much when Korse makes a high, sharp sound and thrusts forward. Gerard licks and sucks and tries to make up for Korse catching him by surprise, and he's ready the next time, Korse making the same, almost pained noise. Gerard looks up and Korse is staring at him, an expression on his face that makes Gerard think of someone taking a laser shot to the back.

It's as though something snaps in the air and Korse has his hands in Gerard's hair, tugging and pulling, his thrusting shallow, uneven, Gerard doing his best to keep up, letting Korse lead him with sharp tugs. Korse is making low growls, the corners of his mouth turning up in a snarl.

"I've got you," Korse says quietly, reinforcing his claim with a hard pull of Gerard's hair, and then he's coming, flooding Gerard's mouth.

Gerard fumbles standing up, his legs unsteady, and Korse is efficiently buttoning back up his pants. Gerard can feel his cheeks are still red and hot, the hair at the back of his neck and on his forehead damp with sweat. Korse looks perfect composed.

"Your uniform is incorrect now," Korse says, smoothing the front of Gerard's jacket where the corner of the collar has turned up, his fingers just brushing the skin of Gerard's neck. "You'll come and see me tomorrow after your shift to make up for the error," Korse says, and when Gerard nods, Korse touches his fingers to the corner of Gerard's mouth, smoothing over the swollen lips, as if those were in violation of uniform protocol as well. Then Korse walks abruptly out the door, leaving Gerard standing alone in the too-bright room.

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the thing itself and not the myth, cut my hair, coffee on demand

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