FIC POST WTF
Title: Tad's Quest For Health Insurance, 1/6: It’s Not Gay If…
Authors: _emomuffin and snoopypez
Pairing: Stephen/Tad
Warnings: Fake Person Slash OMG!
Rating: R
Summary: In which there are threats, complaining, and wrestling.
Author note: Oh, like it’s shocking that we’d do this?
*
Stephen was in a bad mood. Those Environmentalistas at the World Wildlife Fund kept insisting on sending him pamphlets about saving bears. Sure, other species of animals were included, but for God's sake, their mascot itself was a panda bear!
Stephen felt like firing somebody.
Tad paused at Stephen's slightly ajar office door, taking a deep breath before knocking. Truthfully, Stephen intimidated him a little, but damn it, he really wanted that health insurance. He could use it to pay for all the therapy he'd need after being locked in the Colbunker for so long without heat or food or...human contact of any kind. He adjusted his glasses and popped his head around the door. "Stephen?"
Stephen raised an eyebrow, turning from where he was dusting a bust of his own head. Perhaps he could fire whomever it was that was clearly sleeping on the job instead of keeping his office clean..
"Yes?" Ah, Tad. Who else would dare call Stephen solely by his first name? Tad's new backbone could prove to be a problem.
"Um...about the health insurance..." Tad trailed off and stepped inside Stephen's office, closing the door behind him. "I was serious on the show, when I said I'd like some." He wondered how much 'wrestling' he'd have to do at Stephen's cabin this weekend, if Stephen agreed to his request. Hell, he'd probably be Stephen's servant for life. Not that he was completely opposed to the idea.
Eyebrow still artfully raised, Stephen slowly sat behind his desk. Wordlessly, he gestured to the rickety old stool for Tad. He steepled his fingers and waited.
Tad glanced at the stool and gulped. It was like being at the principal's office...if, for whatever reason, your principal happened to be Hitler. Tad just nodded silently and sat on the stool, feeling it wobble a bit beneath him.
Stephen decided to let the silence go on for a good two minutes more. He stared and stared, waiting for the exact moment Tad relaxed just a little bit. Then, he spoke.
"Can you give me a good reason I shouldn't fire you right now?"
Tad's eyes widened owlishly behind his glasses. "I...uh...what?" he looked completely dumbstruck at Stephen's words. "Why...why would you fire me? I'm your Building Manager! I...manage all of the buildings! You need me. O-otherwise, the buildings would get out of control!" he rambled, looking panicked.
"So you're saying that the buildings would gain their own personalities and run around the city like Godzilla," Stephen non-asked. His mood was already lifting.
Tad shook his head, trying not to smile at the mental image of buildings on the rampage. "No, of course not, but...Godzilla could attack them...or terrorists dressed like Godzilla." He paused, giving Stephen what he hoped was a very serious look, "Or terrorists dressed up like bears. Bears, Stephen!"
A jolt of disgust hit Stephen right where it hurt the most: his gut. Well played, Tad, well played.
"Regardless, who's to say we couldn't hire someone else? Someone who doesn't care about silly things like medication?" Stephen allowed himself a smirk. No one could argue with such brilliance.
Tad visibly slumped a bit at that. It was hard to argue with Stephen's iron logic. Unless... "Well, that may be true, but could you also find someone who can manage buildings and tumble with you?"
Eyes widening ever so slightly, Stephen knew he'd never fire Tad. He'd have to find someone else's life to ruin, the way the bears were ruining his.
"I'm sure I could. Look at all the emails I get just for wanting a new black friend!" He pointed at a stack of papers that reached to the top of his desk. "However, I don't feel like going to all that trouble right now, so I guess I'll keep you on board The Colbert Nation Team for now." Satisfied, Stephen sat back into the over-plushed leather of his chair.
"You may go."
Tad jumped up, clearly thrilled that he wasn't being canned. "Really? Thank you Stephen! You won't regret it!" He got all the way to the door before he remembered the original purpose for his visit. "Wait a minute..." He turned around again. “What about my health insurance?"
With a deep sigh, Stephen adjusted his glasses and tapped a finger against his lips. "I'll think about it."
"Really?" Tad's voice nearly squeaked, he was so surprised.
"Would I lie?" Stephen asked blithely, chuckling. Not allowing time for a response, he added, "You still dropping by the cabin?"
Tad gave a noncommittal shrug. "I don't know, I'm kind of busy--" he paused mid-sentence at the look on Stephen's face and quickly amended it. "Er, yes. Yes I am."
That was more like it.
"Good. Maybe I'll have news about your health by then." Stephen managed to say it in a way that only slightly sounded like a threat. He smoothed his tie and began to look over the notes an intern had left him. Ah, he was mentioned six times in publications this week.
"I'll...be sure to wear loose clothes," Tad added before he left. Sure, flirting might not help his case, but it certainly couldn't hurt it.
Stephen was smug as he read on.
---
Ah, the weekend. Stephen entered his cabin, flicking on the lights and checking the refrigerator. Fully stocked, as always. Good, though that meant one less person he could fire.
He cast a fond smile at the American flag hanging over his fireplace.
Tad knocked on Stephen's door with one hand while holding a six pack of beer in the other. He was still happy with his plan to suck up and figured Stephen would appreciate the gesture. What was more American than two grown men drinking beer and wrestling each other half naked in a cabin? Nothing readily came to mind.
Moving to answer the door, Stephen wished for the tenth time that one of his employees was there to open it for him. All this walking really tired a man out after a hard day of Truth and Nailing.
"Tad! You're early," he said, loosening his tie. "I guess you should come in anyway."
Tad frowned a little and looked at his watch, noticing he was exactly a minute and 24 seconds early.
"Thanks." He walked in and held up the six pack. "Hey, I brought some beer!" he grinned.
Guests who brought things were always more welcome than those who did not.
"You'd bring alcohol to a meeting with your boss?" Stephen said sternly, wishing for a pen to busy his hands with. "That's completely inappropriate! Is it at least American beer? Because I won't have any of that foreign crap in my house."
Tad cringed and looked at the label. "It's...it's Bud Light."
He pushed his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose nervously, "I didn't know this was going to be a meeting. I thought we were hanging out." He cleared his throat. "Like buddies."
Chuckling, Stephen shook his head and patted Tad on the shoulder in a manly, heterosexual way.
“Buddies? That word doesn’t describe our relationship at all, remember?” He mimicked what Tad had said on the show. “You’re my building manager!”
Tad inwardly winced a bit at that--he knew saying that on the show would come back to bite him in the ass.
"I--I know, but, you already have a Jewish friend and you used to have a black friend, so I figured, I could be your...Building Manager friend." He laid his hand over Stephen's on his shoulder, in an equally heterosexual way.
Stephen sighed melodramatically, removing his hand from Tad's. "If I had a Building Manager Friend, I'd have to have a Camera Person Friend, and a Lighting Friend." He almost added 'an intern friend', but that was ridiculous. No one would have an intern friend!
"Yeah, but...I manage your buildings and everyone in them, so wouldn't being my friend include being friends with all of your staff...through me?" He wasn't sure why he wanted so badly to be Stephen's friend, except friends gave friends health insurance, didn't they?
Hmm. There was a flawless logic to Tad's reasoning. The type of logic that Stephen himself would use, so he approved.
"That's a good point." He nodded, pleased that this would make him even more popular with his employees. He was their friend now! "All right, you are now my Building Manager Friend! We can have that beer now."
Tad grinned, "So, does that mean you'll take a picture of me and put it on your show?" Ha! Take that, former-black friend. He opened one of the cans of beer. "And...give me other friend privileges? Like...oh, I don't know, say...health insurance?"
Stephen looked through a couple cabinets for snacks they could have. He smiled at Tad's comment about taking a picture and was about to respond until the health insurance came up again. He slammed a cabinet door shut.
"Aha! So that's why you want to be my friend!" He pointed his finger straight between Tad's eyes. There was no stronger scolding than a point from Stephen Colbert's finger.
Tad's eyes followed Stephen's finger, crossing as he watched it near his forehead. Blinking, he looked at Stephen again. "What? No...of course not. That's not the whole reason."
Stephen poked Tad's forehead angrily. "The whole reason??" Did no one care about his feelings anymore?
"Right!" he nodded desperately. "Not the whole reason. I also want to be your friend because of..." he tried to think of anything else. "The tumbling! The tumbling is fun, right? And I admire your truthiness! No one else is as ...truthy as you!" He gulped again.
Stephen crossed his arms, thinking. He liked a healthy amount of fear in his employees, but this was a bit much. On the other hand, at least it appears that the spine Tad had shown earlier wasn't permanent.
"You're right about that," he finally said, grabbing a beer and just holding it.
Tad audibly sighed and nodded, taking a sip of his beer. "See? It's good that we're friends." It'd be better if he had the damn health insurance, but he wasn't going to push it until Stephen lost that...crazy look in his eyes.
Giving up on the snacks, Stephen took his beer over to the couch and flopped down it in a way that made his mood obvious. He sighed deeply again, adjusted his glasses, and glanced around for the remote.
"What? Oh, right. It's good," he added as an afterthought.
Tad frowned at that sigh and came over to sit next to him on the couch. "What's wrong?" Had he done something?
Stephen shook his head, stabbing the buttons on the just found remote.
"Nothing, why would anything be wrong? Sure, I still don't have a Nobel Prize, and people keep yelling at me on the street, and nobody likes me. But nothing's wrong!" He glared at the TV screen, which was traitorously airing some biased liberal claptrap on CNN.
"What?" Tad blinked, looking taken aback at that. "Everyone likes you! You're Stephen Colbert." He pushed his glasses up on his nose and looked at Stephen honestly. "People do like you...well, except for bear, or liberals, or gays...lately you've been getting hate mail from all sides, actually."
Not exactly reassured by this, Stephen rolled his eyes.
"Look, I'm glad I'm as equally hated by everyone." He felt his cool resolve begin to crumble a little. "I just can't believe there are so many of them! Our country is being overrun by people who don't know better! And bears!" he exclaimed passionately, turning to Tad and gesturing wildly.
Tad laid a hand softly on Stephen's shoulder and said sympathetically, "But...someone must like you, because your show isn't cancelled yet!"
Stephen almost brightened by this. Almost.
"Those fickle media hounds pull important shows all the time!" Thank god they haven't gotten to House, yet. The hand on his shoulder was warm and comforting, at least. "I could be gone at any time. And then where will all my new friends be?" Stephen pouted. Pouted.
Hmm, that was a tough one. If Stephen was out of a job, then Tad would be as well.
"You could go back to the Daily Show," he suggested, "And maybe bring me along? Jon Stewart must have some buildings I can manage." As he spoke, his hand started massaging Stephen's shoulder--in a completely heterosexual way, of course.
Eyes closing, willing himself to relax, Stephen frowned. "Go back to The Daily Show? Do you realise what that would do to my reputation?" The guys there would never let him live it down!
"Do you have any better ideas?" Tad huffed, with a pout of his own. They were going to be out of jobs and on the street! And he thought not having health insurance was bad...now, that was the least of it.
Stephen made the mistake of opening his eyes just in time to witness Tad's pout. No male should have lips like that! It was almost as if Tad was a plant for the Homosexual Agenda, to lure and tempt Stephen to their side.
Stephen looked away, turning off the TV. "I do, as a matter of fact. We don't get cancelled." He said it in the smug, confident way only he could.
"Oh. Right," Tad looked relieved, as if they'd just narrowly escaped being fired. The hand on Stephen's shoulder slowed down once Tad realized what he'd been doing.
He pulled it away and cleared his throat. "I wore loose clothes you know, if you...if you feel like wrestling." Manly, manly, straight wrestling, that was.
Based on Stephen's thoughts just before hand, he should really be suspicious of Tad's timing. He should throw the other man out, fire him for real, something.
However.
Stephen nodded, looking to ease his new tensions. He finally removed his tie all the way and tossed it into the fireplace. He only wore each one once, of course.
Tad watched Stephen take off his tie and sat up a little straighter, waiting for...something to happen. He though about tackling Stephen first, but...Stephen was the host; this was his cabin after all, so Stephen should be the one to jump him. It was just good manners, after all.
Kicking off his shoes, Stephen stood. He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his neck, warming up. Then he noticed Tad still sat on the couch like a useless bear on a log.
"This isn't some big gay show, Tad. Come on!"
Tad stood up quickly, eyes shifting embarrassedly as he scoffed, "What? Of course this isn't a gay show. It couldn't be, because we're straight." He looked around and cleared his throat, "Yep, just a couple of straight guys preparing to wrestle."
It seemed Stephen rolled his eyes a lot more around his building manager.
"I know we're straight, Tad. You don't have to mention it all the damn time." Removing his cufflinks, Stephen wished Tad hadn't arrived so early, so he would have had time to change. It was hard to wrestle in a dress shirt and slacks.
"But you're the one who brought it up!" Tad whined, giving Stephen another pout as he started to stretch for the wrestling. Unlike Stephen, he was prepared.
Eyebrow raised, Stephen asked in genuine confusion, "When did I say we were or were not straight?" He threw his belt unto the couch and walked to the center of the room.
"You didn't," Tad tried to explain, pushing his glasses up again, "But you said this wasn't some gay show, which is the opposite of a straight show--which is what this is...if it were a show."
Growing increasingly frustrated at Tad's ignorance, Stephen snapped, "I was talking about you just sitting there watching me limber up my lithe body!" He hopped a little in place.
"Well, it was hard not to!" Tad replied, hands on his hips, "But just because I can appreciate the beauty of another man, it doesn't mean I'm gay. It just means I have eyes!"
Stephen halted his hops. This time the other eyebrow joined its mate; he hadn't been expecting that. Though, really, he should have. Who wouldn't do the same as Tad in such a situation?
Shrugging, Stephen replied, "Touché. And just because I can say that your lips are pretty literally-sinfully soft, it doesn't mean I'm anything less than completely heterosexual." Was that too much?
"My lips? Really?" Tad briefly touched his fingers to his lip to make sure they were indeed what Stephen was talking about before he nodded, "Right. Of course, and just because I watch you when we shower together after wrestling doesn't mean I'm anything less than 100% straight."
Rolling up his sleeves - was his air conditioning broken? Would he get to fire someone afterall? - Stephen nodded some more. "Exactly!" He would point out that Tad was clearly gayer than Stephen was anyway, but that might cause an end to this whole night.
"Get over here, we're burning daylight!"
Tad nodded and quickly closed the space between them, grabbing hold of Stephen's waist, planning on bringing him to the ground. He usually wound up letting Stephen win when they wrestled, but he enjoyed a good tussle first.
Caught off guard, they went tumbling to the ground in a whirling dervish of fists and elbows. Scrambling to get out from under Tad, Stephen cursed the buttons on his shirt. There was a reason he told Tad to wear something loose! Well, two reasons.
"That all you got?" Smiling, he beckoned to Tad.
"Why? You want me to go at you harder?" Tad asked, loosening his grip from Stephen's waist when they hit the ground and grabbing his arms, trying to force them behind his back.
"As hard as you can--" Stephen whirled around and wrapped an arm around Tad's neck. "--stand it."
Tad coughed a little and flailed, trying to flip both of them over. "I can take it as hard as you can give it to me," he replied, trying to sound tough.
Grinning to himself, Stephen answered, out of breath, "Oh, I know. Why else do you think I keep having you come here?" He found himself underneath Tad again and blinked. Damn, the guy was fast.
"Because you like my lips?" Tad answered innocently, sliding up Stephen's legs, so he was now straddling him from behind while he pinned Stephen's arms so he couldn't move. Well, at least not without a fair amount of wriggling.
And wriggle, Stephen did. His shirt buttons were pressing into his stomach and Tad was pressing into other areas and it was kind of driving Stephen to distraction.
"No, your lips are why I don't--" he bucked a little, trying to dislodge Tad, "--fire you!"
"You would fire me otherwise?" Tad asked, making a small noise in the back of his throat at the bucking that could have just as easily been a whimper or a cough. Probably a cough. A very straight, heterosexual cough.
"Perhaps," Stephen said, trying to jerk his arm out of Tad's freakishly strong grip. He made a sort of grunting noise as he slithered snakelike. He needed to get the upper hand again!
Tad hooked his legs around Stephen's hips and laid his upper body down on him to give him a little more strength in the pinning. Stephen wriggled and Tad grunted a bit, trying to hold on tight.
"Had enough?" He wasn't going to let Stephen win this one!
Stephen spit out the bit of carpet that had found its way into his mouth and shouted, "Never!" He gathered all his strength and threw all his weight to one side, rolling them over.
"Ahh!" Tad let out a surprised yell as he tumbled off of Stephen, falling to the side. He wasn't the only one with strength of freak-like proportions!
Stephen effectively pinned Tad by the shoulders, much like the lions did in The Lion King. His kids loved that movie.
"Ha!" Smug, he made a mistake and pointed in Tad's face.
"Ha, HA!" Tad countered, batting away the finger and rolling them over again, sitting triumphantly on Stephen once again, this time straddling him face to face. He was much more forward when he wrestled.
"Dammit," was all Stephen could say. He put his hands on Tad's thighs and pushed.
Tad pressed down, unwilling to give up the fight that easily and accidentally--accidentally!--ground his hips against Stephen's while trying to hold on to his position on top.
The gasp that left Stephen's mouth was clearly brought on from the exertion of rolling around, nothing else.
"You're cheating somehow, I know it!" he said, fingers slipping on the material of Tad's pants.
"I am not!" Tad replied, losing his concentration for a moment as he looked down at Stephen's fingers, wondering if he was going to tear Tad's pants completely off.
"Are too," Stephen retorted childishly before shoving at Tad's legs again. "Look, I'd really rather not ruin this shirt, time out."
Tad paused for a moment, trying to catch his breath before he nodded okay and climbed off of Stephen, wondering if the wrestling was over or if he'd just remove his shirt and continue on. Tad hoped it was the latter.
Sitting up and trying to regain his composure, Stephen slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Damn, it would be hard to get the wrinkles out, not that that was Stephen’s job. Eyes meeting Tad’s, he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders.
Tad offered him a grin, watching the shirt slowly slide down his shoulders. "Is it getting hot in here?" he asked after a moment, unable to tear his gaze away from Stephen. "It seems hot in here."
Stephen smirked at Tad's words, folding his shirt and setting it aside. "Want me to turn up the A/C?" He scrambled to his knees and lunged, sending the two of them to the ground again. "Time in!"
Tad nodded, "Ye--" before Stephen lunged at him, cutting him off mid-sentence. Now on his back, Tad gave Stephen a shove and a pout. "You're the one who is cheating!" Damn, he was really going to need that health insurance after this.
"I'm allowed to cheat, I'm the boss." Stephen pushed the hands away and pinned them above Tad's head. He grinned, settling his weight on Tad's hips.
Well, that was true. Stephen was the boss...Tad couldn't argue with that iron logic.
"It still seems wrong," he muttered, struggling against Stephen--though not too much, because he rather liked being pinned under him. In a straight, wrestling, manly way, of course.
"I'm never--" Stephen panted, squeezing his legs against Tad's upper thighs. "--wrong. Make a note of it." He appeared to be winning, as Tad wasn't making much of an effort anymore.
Tad frowned at that, annoyed. He'd like to call Stephen's bluff on that, but if Stephen was giving out firings like candy on Halloween, then Tad didn't want any part of that. He thrust his hips up against Stephen's to distract him, so he could gain the upper hand.
Every time they did this, Tad ended up fighting dirty. It seemed now was that time again.
Stephen bit down the moan that tried to come out, his grip tightening on Tad's wrists. Almost unconsciously, he slid a ways down Tad's lower body, friction making him wild-eyed. "Do you give up?" he asked manically.
"No!" Tad said immediately before pausing. "Well...maybe." He couldn't really think with Stephen pressed against him like that! It was too hard... hard...hard to make a decision, that is. "If I say yes, does that mean you're going to get off of me?" he asked, sounding disappointed.
Eyebrow raised, Stephen pondered the question. They both knew where this was headed; would it really matter if they gave up all pretense of 'wrestling'?
Yes, yes it would. This was not a gay thing.
"Probably not," he answered, moving one hand down Tad's arm to press against his chest, keeping the man on the ground. The opportunity to feel the muscle under his palm was welcome, too.
Tad sighed softly at the touch, relaxing as he lay back on the floor. "Good." He smiled slightly at Stephen, "Then yes, I do give, and you win." Of all the times Tad had let Stephen win, he decided this was definitely going to be his favourite.
"Aha!" Stephen cried in triumph. It didn't even occur to him that Tad would be letting him win. Shifting his weight on Tad in a way that was maddening to both parties, Stephen smiled, bringing both hands to his hips. He nodded, smug, and to anyone else, it would look as though he struck a preening pose for an invisible camera.
Tad rolled his eyes at Stephen's preening pose. He looked much too proud of himself for having been just given a victory.
"Yeah, congratulations," he teased.
Why was Tad so okay with losing? He was smiling, even! Shouldn't there be some pouting, maybe a tear?
"Thank you, Tad. How many wins is that for me, now?" Stephen ran a hand through his tousled hair. Tad was comfortable.
"I don't know, somewhere around a million?" Tad enjoyed how self-involved Stephen was sometimes, because he could tease his boss without the other man ever being the wiser. He brought his hands up to rest comfortably on Stephen's hips, just watching him gloat.
Stephen squinted an eye shut, thinking. Then he nodded. "That sounds about right. Have you even won once?" he asked, actually curious, and ignored the shiver that ran over him by Tad's touch.
Tad just shrugged, his thumbs rubbing in small circles on Stephen's skin. "A couple of times, I think." He was about to add that he felt like he was winning right now, but that seemed to cross into the territory of complete gayness, so he kept quiet.
Stephen sighed contently, then promptly cleared his throat and frowned.
"That's more than I remember," he started, but trailed off by lightly - but not too lightly - pinching Tad in his side. Things were getting a little too queer around here.
Tad squeaked at the sudden pinch and jumped a bit under Stephen, which only caused their hips to press together again.
"Well, 'a couple' isn't an exact number--just an estimate." Tad looked a bit sheepish, wondering if Stephen could feel his erection through the thin track pants he was wearing. Probably. Damn pants were betraying him. They were the ones that were gay, not him! It was all just because of the pants!
Caught off guard, Stephen was unable to stop the moan this time. Perhaps it hadn't been a good idea to straddle Tad's lap for so long; it was getting less comfortable...both underneath him and not.
Stephen coughed, trying to cover the traitorous noise he made, and found his equally traitorous fingers playing with the waistband of Tad's ugly track pants.
"I...um...so," Tad cleared his throat, watching Stephen's fingers. "It's a good thing you took your shirt off earlier." He paused, realizing how the sounded and quickly continued, "Because, it could have, uh, gotten damaged." His hands nervously fluttered at Stephen's sides before traveling up his chest. One might have brushed--then pinched--his nipple... maybe.
The touch shot straight to Stephen's groin and his hips jerked automatically. If he wasn't so turned on -- hadn't been so turned on since the start of this match -- he'd say something about how eager Tad was.
But then, Stephen liked his employees eager.
Tad moaned softly when Stephen's hips jerked and continued to dance his fingers over the other man's chest, periodically brushing or squeezing his nipples. This 'wrestling' might be more comfortable if they took it to the bedroom, but he still didn't have the courage to actually bring that up.
Stephen's eyes shut, his fingers dancing under the slick material of Tad's pants. He arched into the hands that were still on him and searched his mind desperately for something to say. He could only handle so much silence; he had to hear his voice!
"Yeah.." He had no idea what he was agreeing to.
"What?" Tad's hands paused on Stephen's chest and he looked at him warily, wondering if he'd actually asked the question aloud. "So...you do want to go into the bedroom?"
Hands stilling on the warm skin under Tad's clothing, Stephen blinked.
"What? No one wrestles in the bedroom!" He chuckled and pushed his hand further, fingers brushing along Tad's cock.
Tad whimpered at the touch, thrusting into Stephen's hand a few times before he realized that Stephen had actually spoken to him as well. "What? Uh..." he tried to form a coherent sentence with that hand still on him. "How would you know?"
Pleased with this reaction, Stephen said, "Have we ever?" He pulled his hand out to tug Tad's shirt up and over his head.
"No," Tad shook his head, "But I don't know what you do with other men." Stephen could have all kinds of...buildings with building managers! Still, he helped Stephen pull his shirt off and toss it aside.
Hurt, Stephen said, "You think I have this descriptionless, not gay relationship with other people?" He climbed off of Tad but sat beside him, fingering one of the snaps on the track pant legs.
Tad frowned a little, sliding closer to Stephen and shrugging. "I don't know...do you? You might have a non-gay relationship with all of your employees for all I know."
"Well I certainly don't have a gay relationship with any of them!" He unsnapped the button he was playing with, and then two more in quick succession. "Hell, I wasn't friends with any of them until you pointed out I could be, through you!"
"Oh," he replied sheepishly, "Right. I forgot about that." Tad gathered his courage and leaned over, brushing his lips across Stephen's.
Stephen froze, unsure of what to do. He and Tad had only kissed twice before and one of those times, Stephen had been drunk. It's never gay if you're drunk.
Hesitantly, he kissed back, just a little. His hand sneaked into the gap made by the open snaps of Tad's pants.
Tad purred approvingly into the kiss, bringing a hand up to tangle in Stephen's hair as his tongue slid into the other man's mouth. This still wasn't gay, he rationalized, because they were still wrestling. They were just...using different body parts to do so.
Tongue, that was new. Stephen would normally have balked by now, but it felt really good. It felt good in his gut -- among other places -- and he always followed his gut. Obviously, none of this was gay if his gut told him otherwise!
Biting Tad's lower lip gently, Stephen's hand moved up, unsnapping more snaps. His free hand rested at Tad's hip, massaging lightly.
Tad groaned softly into the kiss and moved to straddle Stephen's hips, tugging on his hair lightly as the kiss intensified.
Completely out of breath, Stephen broke the kiss. Fingers again going to the other man's waistband, he said between pants, "Take these off," and tugged impatiently.
"Way ahead of you there," Tad replied, grabbing the front of the pants and giving them a good tug. The snaps came unfastened and he tossed them away, hoping that looked as sexy as it did in his mind.
Eyebrow raised, Stephen was impressed. Besides being eager, Tad thought ahead. He was becoming quite the it-getter.
However, Stephen was still half dressed, and he would die before getting stains on his black slacks.
So he pushed Tad off his lap.
Tad glanced down at Stephen's slacks and as if reading his mind, replied, "Your turn."
Stephen tried to remove the remainder of his clothing gracefully, but it was difficult when he was sitting on the floor with a hard-on. Finally kicking them off, he turned back to Tad and looked him up and down.
"Nice boxers," he said with approval, staring at the red and white stripes. He may have stared longer than needed.
Tad glanced at his in return and might have--just might have--giggled a little. They were wearing the exact same American flag print boxers. Both of their flags, Tad noticed, were definitely flying high and proud.
A bit put off by the giggle, Stephen frowned. Why was he always the one caught off guard here? This wasn't right!
He walked forward on his knees and grabbed the back of Tad's neck, aggressively pulling him so that their mouths crashed together. The length of their bodies aligned and Stephen was satisfied.
Tad wasn't giggling in a bad way, he just though it was funny after all this time of imagining what Stephen had on under that suit, it turned out to be the same kind of boxers he himself wore...and then Stephen crashed their mouths together and Tad stopped thinking completely.
Hands scratching down the smooth expanse of skin across Tad's back, sucking his tongue into his own mouth, Stephen entertained the thought of giving Tad a raise.
A raise? Hell, Stephen could have fired him right now and Tad wouldn't have even cared. He whimpered again, hands slowly trailing down Stephen's chest before finding his boxers and reaching inside.
Thrusting into Tad's hand, Stephen was unable to choke back a deep moan because his mouth was already preoccupied. He slid a shaking hand down over Tad's hip to behind his knee, lifting so that Tad's ankle would hook over Stephen's hip. It provided better angles.
Tad slid forward more, hooking a leg around the back of Stephen's and pushing both of their boxers down. He broke the kiss to catch his breath as he took both of their cocks in hand, looking slightly unsure.
The jolt of pure pleasure rocked Stephen's body so hard it knocked him off balance. They fell back onto the ground and Stephen landed hard, which caused an explosive friction where their cocks met. Stephen gasped.
"Oh my fuck."
"Yes," Tad breathed, hand still working quickly. It was...unbelievable, really, how good it felt. They should have tried this new non-gay wrestling years ago!
If Stephen were the type to whimper, he'd have done so right about then. Hips snapping, he tried to keep his balance over Tad but his arms were shaking so much they threatened to give out any second. Toes digging into the carpet, Stephen began to drop open mouthed kisses across Tad's upper chest.
Tad dropped a frantic trail of kisses down Stephen's neck, teeth dragging over the skin just hard enough to leave a mark. He could feel Stephen's body tensing against his and had to bite his lip to keep from moaning again. Damn it, he was already so close.
Stephen squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to last longer than this. If he had to see Tad, writhing beneath him, biting down on that full, so soft lip, Stephen was sure he'd be gone. He was the boss, he couldn't be first! He tried to keep these logical thoughts in mind, trying to block Tad’s harsh breaths and moans from his ear.
Tad squeezed his eyes shut as well, trying to mentally coach himself to last longer, but it was too late--Stephen was sliding against him and all he could do was moan and meet him thrust for thrust, giving in to the waves of pleasure that rippled through out his body as he came.
Forehead dropping onto Tad's shoulder, Stephen couldn't help but feel a little smug when Tad came first. He knew he could do it! But the thought was fleeting; the sounds that came from Tad's mouth and the way he was moving made Stephen suddenly think of other things they could do. With Tad on his stomach.
The mental image seared into his mind, Stephen gave in, arms folding in on themselves as he came, his full weight meeting Tad's.
Tad grinned to himself as they both fell backwards on the floor, trying to catch their breath.
Weak, sated...and a little sticky, Stephen stared at the ceiling. "Have you seen my pants?"
Tad shrugged and lifted his head off the ground, glancing around, "They've got to be here some where." Sitting up, he pulled on his boxers again and then set to work snapping all the snaps on his pants back together. They sat in silence for a moment before Tad started again, "So, about that health insurance..."
The other man being no help at all, Stephen found his own pants and tugged them on.
When Tad spoke, Stephen smiled winningly at him and clapped him on the shoulder, buddy-like. "I don't think now's the right time for that, Tad."
Tad sighed, watching Stephen go back into 'boss mode'. "Well...when would be the right time?" he asked, still snapping his pants up.
Climbing to his feet, Stephen stood, his crotch at Tad's eye level.
"Come by next weekend, we'll talk about it."
Well, the man drove a hard bargain, but after this wrestling session, how could he refuse? "I'll see you then."
Stephen was smug and began making plans.
End.
Authors: _emomuffin and snoopypez
Pairing: Stephen/Tad
Warnings: Fake Person Slash OMG!
Rating: R
Summary: In which there are threats, complaining, and wrestling.
Author note: Oh, like it’s shocking that we’d do this?
*
Stephen was in a bad mood. Those Environmentalistas at the World Wildlife Fund kept insisting on sending him pamphlets about saving bears. Sure, other species of animals were included, but for God's sake, their mascot itself was a panda bear!
Stephen felt like firing somebody.
Tad paused at Stephen's slightly ajar office door, taking a deep breath before knocking. Truthfully, Stephen intimidated him a little, but damn it, he really wanted that health insurance. He could use it to pay for all the therapy he'd need after being locked in the Colbunker for so long without heat or food or...human contact of any kind. He adjusted his glasses and popped his head around the door. "Stephen?"
Stephen raised an eyebrow, turning from where he was dusting a bust of his own head. Perhaps he could fire whomever it was that was clearly sleeping on the job instead of keeping his office clean..
"Yes?" Ah, Tad. Who else would dare call Stephen solely by his first name? Tad's new backbone could prove to be a problem.
"Um...about the health insurance..." Tad trailed off and stepped inside Stephen's office, closing the door behind him. "I was serious on the show, when I said I'd like some." He wondered how much 'wrestling' he'd have to do at Stephen's cabin this weekend, if Stephen agreed to his request. Hell, he'd probably be Stephen's servant for life. Not that he was completely opposed to the idea.
Eyebrow still artfully raised, Stephen slowly sat behind his desk. Wordlessly, he gestured to the rickety old stool for Tad. He steepled his fingers and waited.
Tad glanced at the stool and gulped. It was like being at the principal's office...if, for whatever reason, your principal happened to be Hitler. Tad just nodded silently and sat on the stool, feeling it wobble a bit beneath him.
Stephen decided to let the silence go on for a good two minutes more. He stared and stared, waiting for the exact moment Tad relaxed just a little bit. Then, he spoke.
"Can you give me a good reason I shouldn't fire you right now?"
Tad's eyes widened owlishly behind his glasses. "I...uh...what?" he looked completely dumbstruck at Stephen's words. "Why...why would you fire me? I'm your Building Manager! I...manage all of the buildings! You need me. O-otherwise, the buildings would get out of control!" he rambled, looking panicked.
"So you're saying that the buildings would gain their own personalities and run around the city like Godzilla," Stephen non-asked. His mood was already lifting.
Tad shook his head, trying not to smile at the mental image of buildings on the rampage. "No, of course not, but...Godzilla could attack them...or terrorists dressed like Godzilla." He paused, giving Stephen what he hoped was a very serious look, "Or terrorists dressed up like bears. Bears, Stephen!"
A jolt of disgust hit Stephen right where it hurt the most: his gut. Well played, Tad, well played.
"Regardless, who's to say we couldn't hire someone else? Someone who doesn't care about silly things like medication?" Stephen allowed himself a smirk. No one could argue with such brilliance.
Tad visibly slumped a bit at that. It was hard to argue with Stephen's iron logic. Unless... "Well, that may be true, but could you also find someone who can manage buildings and tumble with you?"
Eyes widening ever so slightly, Stephen knew he'd never fire Tad. He'd have to find someone else's life to ruin, the way the bears were ruining his.
"I'm sure I could. Look at all the emails I get just for wanting a new black friend!" He pointed at a stack of papers that reached to the top of his desk. "However, I don't feel like going to all that trouble right now, so I guess I'll keep you on board The Colbert Nation Team for now." Satisfied, Stephen sat back into the over-plushed leather of his chair.
"You may go."
Tad jumped up, clearly thrilled that he wasn't being canned. "Really? Thank you Stephen! You won't regret it!" He got all the way to the door before he remembered the original purpose for his visit. "Wait a minute..." He turned around again. “What about my health insurance?"
With a deep sigh, Stephen adjusted his glasses and tapped a finger against his lips. "I'll think about it."
"Really?" Tad's voice nearly squeaked, he was so surprised.
"Would I lie?" Stephen asked blithely, chuckling. Not allowing time for a response, he added, "You still dropping by the cabin?"
Tad gave a noncommittal shrug. "I don't know, I'm kind of busy--" he paused mid-sentence at the look on Stephen's face and quickly amended it. "Er, yes. Yes I am."
That was more like it.
"Good. Maybe I'll have news about your health by then." Stephen managed to say it in a way that only slightly sounded like a threat. He smoothed his tie and began to look over the notes an intern had left him. Ah, he was mentioned six times in publications this week.
"I'll...be sure to wear loose clothes," Tad added before he left. Sure, flirting might not help his case, but it certainly couldn't hurt it.
Stephen was smug as he read on.
---
Ah, the weekend. Stephen entered his cabin, flicking on the lights and checking the refrigerator. Fully stocked, as always. Good, though that meant one less person he could fire.
He cast a fond smile at the American flag hanging over his fireplace.
Tad knocked on Stephen's door with one hand while holding a six pack of beer in the other. He was still happy with his plan to suck up and figured Stephen would appreciate the gesture. What was more American than two grown men drinking beer and wrestling each other half naked in a cabin? Nothing readily came to mind.
Moving to answer the door, Stephen wished for the tenth time that one of his employees was there to open it for him. All this walking really tired a man out after a hard day of Truth and Nailing.
"Tad! You're early," he said, loosening his tie. "I guess you should come in anyway."
Tad frowned a little and looked at his watch, noticing he was exactly a minute and 24 seconds early.
"Thanks." He walked in and held up the six pack. "Hey, I brought some beer!" he grinned.
Guests who brought things were always more welcome than those who did not.
"You'd bring alcohol to a meeting with your boss?" Stephen said sternly, wishing for a pen to busy his hands with. "That's completely inappropriate! Is it at least American beer? Because I won't have any of that foreign crap in my house."
Tad cringed and looked at the label. "It's...it's Bud Light."
He pushed his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose nervously, "I didn't know this was going to be a meeting. I thought we were hanging out." He cleared his throat. "Like buddies."
Chuckling, Stephen shook his head and patted Tad on the shoulder in a manly, heterosexual way.
“Buddies? That word doesn’t describe our relationship at all, remember?” He mimicked what Tad had said on the show. “You’re my building manager!”
Tad inwardly winced a bit at that--he knew saying that on the show would come back to bite him in the ass.
"I--I know, but, you already have a Jewish friend and you used to have a black friend, so I figured, I could be your...Building Manager friend." He laid his hand over Stephen's on his shoulder, in an equally heterosexual way.
Stephen sighed melodramatically, removing his hand from Tad's. "If I had a Building Manager Friend, I'd have to have a Camera Person Friend, and a Lighting Friend." He almost added 'an intern friend', but that was ridiculous. No one would have an intern friend!
"Yeah, but...I manage your buildings and everyone in them, so wouldn't being my friend include being friends with all of your staff...through me?" He wasn't sure why he wanted so badly to be Stephen's friend, except friends gave friends health insurance, didn't they?
Hmm. There was a flawless logic to Tad's reasoning. The type of logic that Stephen himself would use, so he approved.
"That's a good point." He nodded, pleased that this would make him even more popular with his employees. He was their friend now! "All right, you are now my Building Manager Friend! We can have that beer now."
Tad grinned, "So, does that mean you'll take a picture of me and put it on your show?" Ha! Take that, former-black friend. He opened one of the cans of beer. "And...give me other friend privileges? Like...oh, I don't know, say...health insurance?"
Stephen looked through a couple cabinets for snacks they could have. He smiled at Tad's comment about taking a picture and was about to respond until the health insurance came up again. He slammed a cabinet door shut.
"Aha! So that's why you want to be my friend!" He pointed his finger straight between Tad's eyes. There was no stronger scolding than a point from Stephen Colbert's finger.
Tad's eyes followed Stephen's finger, crossing as he watched it near his forehead. Blinking, he looked at Stephen again. "What? No...of course not. That's not the whole reason."
Stephen poked Tad's forehead angrily. "The whole reason??" Did no one care about his feelings anymore?
"Right!" he nodded desperately. "Not the whole reason. I also want to be your friend because of..." he tried to think of anything else. "The tumbling! The tumbling is fun, right? And I admire your truthiness! No one else is as ...truthy as you!" He gulped again.
Stephen crossed his arms, thinking. He liked a healthy amount of fear in his employees, but this was a bit much. On the other hand, at least it appears that the spine Tad had shown earlier wasn't permanent.
"You're right about that," he finally said, grabbing a beer and just holding it.
Tad audibly sighed and nodded, taking a sip of his beer. "See? It's good that we're friends." It'd be better if he had the damn health insurance, but he wasn't going to push it until Stephen lost that...crazy look in his eyes.
Giving up on the snacks, Stephen took his beer over to the couch and flopped down it in a way that made his mood obvious. He sighed deeply again, adjusted his glasses, and glanced around for the remote.
"What? Oh, right. It's good," he added as an afterthought.
Tad frowned at that sigh and came over to sit next to him on the couch. "What's wrong?" Had he done something?
Stephen shook his head, stabbing the buttons on the just found remote.
"Nothing, why would anything be wrong? Sure, I still don't have a Nobel Prize, and people keep yelling at me on the street, and nobody likes me. But nothing's wrong!" He glared at the TV screen, which was traitorously airing some biased liberal claptrap on CNN.
"What?" Tad blinked, looking taken aback at that. "Everyone likes you! You're Stephen Colbert." He pushed his glasses up on his nose and looked at Stephen honestly. "People do like you...well, except for bear, or liberals, or gays...lately you've been getting hate mail from all sides, actually."
Not exactly reassured by this, Stephen rolled his eyes.
"Look, I'm glad I'm as equally hated by everyone." He felt his cool resolve begin to crumble a little. "I just can't believe there are so many of them! Our country is being overrun by people who don't know better! And bears!" he exclaimed passionately, turning to Tad and gesturing wildly.
Tad laid a hand softly on Stephen's shoulder and said sympathetically, "But...someone must like you, because your show isn't cancelled yet!"
Stephen almost brightened by this. Almost.
"Those fickle media hounds pull important shows all the time!" Thank god they haven't gotten to House, yet. The hand on his shoulder was warm and comforting, at least. "I could be gone at any time. And then where will all my new friends be?" Stephen pouted. Pouted.
Hmm, that was a tough one. If Stephen was out of a job, then Tad would be as well.
"You could go back to the Daily Show," he suggested, "And maybe bring me along? Jon Stewart must have some buildings I can manage." As he spoke, his hand started massaging Stephen's shoulder--in a completely heterosexual way, of course.
Eyes closing, willing himself to relax, Stephen frowned. "Go back to The Daily Show? Do you realise what that would do to my reputation?" The guys there would never let him live it down!
"Do you have any better ideas?" Tad huffed, with a pout of his own. They were going to be out of jobs and on the street! And he thought not having health insurance was bad...now, that was the least of it.
Stephen made the mistake of opening his eyes just in time to witness Tad's pout. No male should have lips like that! It was almost as if Tad was a plant for the Homosexual Agenda, to lure and tempt Stephen to their side.
Stephen looked away, turning off the TV. "I do, as a matter of fact. We don't get cancelled." He said it in the smug, confident way only he could.
"Oh. Right," Tad looked relieved, as if they'd just narrowly escaped being fired. The hand on Stephen's shoulder slowed down once Tad realized what he'd been doing.
He pulled it away and cleared his throat. "I wore loose clothes you know, if you...if you feel like wrestling." Manly, manly, straight wrestling, that was.
Based on Stephen's thoughts just before hand, he should really be suspicious of Tad's timing. He should throw the other man out, fire him for real, something.
However.
Stephen nodded, looking to ease his new tensions. He finally removed his tie all the way and tossed it into the fireplace. He only wore each one once, of course.
Tad watched Stephen take off his tie and sat up a little straighter, waiting for...something to happen. He though about tackling Stephen first, but...Stephen was the host; this was his cabin after all, so Stephen should be the one to jump him. It was just good manners, after all.
Kicking off his shoes, Stephen stood. He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his neck, warming up. Then he noticed Tad still sat on the couch like a useless bear on a log.
"This isn't some big gay show, Tad. Come on!"
Tad stood up quickly, eyes shifting embarrassedly as he scoffed, "What? Of course this isn't a gay show. It couldn't be, because we're straight." He looked around and cleared his throat, "Yep, just a couple of straight guys preparing to wrestle."
It seemed Stephen rolled his eyes a lot more around his building manager.
"I know we're straight, Tad. You don't have to mention it all the damn time." Removing his cufflinks, Stephen wished Tad hadn't arrived so early, so he would have had time to change. It was hard to wrestle in a dress shirt and slacks.
"But you're the one who brought it up!" Tad whined, giving Stephen another pout as he started to stretch for the wrestling. Unlike Stephen, he was prepared.
Eyebrow raised, Stephen asked in genuine confusion, "When did I say we were or were not straight?" He threw his belt unto the couch and walked to the center of the room.
"You didn't," Tad tried to explain, pushing his glasses up again, "But you said this wasn't some gay show, which is the opposite of a straight show--which is what this is...if it were a show."
Growing increasingly frustrated at Tad's ignorance, Stephen snapped, "I was talking about you just sitting there watching me limber up my lithe body!" He hopped a little in place.
"Well, it was hard not to!" Tad replied, hands on his hips, "But just because I can appreciate the beauty of another man, it doesn't mean I'm gay. It just means I have eyes!"
Stephen halted his hops. This time the other eyebrow joined its mate; he hadn't been expecting that. Though, really, he should have. Who wouldn't do the same as Tad in such a situation?
Shrugging, Stephen replied, "Touché. And just because I can say that your lips are pretty literally-sinfully soft, it doesn't mean I'm anything less than completely heterosexual." Was that too much?
"My lips? Really?" Tad briefly touched his fingers to his lip to make sure they were indeed what Stephen was talking about before he nodded, "Right. Of course, and just because I watch you when we shower together after wrestling doesn't mean I'm anything less than 100% straight."
Rolling up his sleeves - was his air conditioning broken? Would he get to fire someone afterall? - Stephen nodded some more. "Exactly!" He would point out that Tad was clearly gayer than Stephen was anyway, but that might cause an end to this whole night.
"Get over here, we're burning daylight!"
Tad nodded and quickly closed the space between them, grabbing hold of Stephen's waist, planning on bringing him to the ground. He usually wound up letting Stephen win when they wrestled, but he enjoyed a good tussle first.
Caught off guard, they went tumbling to the ground in a whirling dervish of fists and elbows. Scrambling to get out from under Tad, Stephen cursed the buttons on his shirt. There was a reason he told Tad to wear something loose! Well, two reasons.
"That all you got?" Smiling, he beckoned to Tad.
"Why? You want me to go at you harder?" Tad asked, loosening his grip from Stephen's waist when they hit the ground and grabbing his arms, trying to force them behind his back.
"As hard as you can--" Stephen whirled around and wrapped an arm around Tad's neck. "--stand it."
Tad coughed a little and flailed, trying to flip both of them over. "I can take it as hard as you can give it to me," he replied, trying to sound tough.
Grinning to himself, Stephen answered, out of breath, "Oh, I know. Why else do you think I keep having you come here?" He found himself underneath Tad again and blinked. Damn, the guy was fast.
"Because you like my lips?" Tad answered innocently, sliding up Stephen's legs, so he was now straddling him from behind while he pinned Stephen's arms so he couldn't move. Well, at least not without a fair amount of wriggling.
And wriggle, Stephen did. His shirt buttons were pressing into his stomach and Tad was pressing into other areas and it was kind of driving Stephen to distraction.
"No, your lips are why I don't--" he bucked a little, trying to dislodge Tad, "--fire you!"
"You would fire me otherwise?" Tad asked, making a small noise in the back of his throat at the bucking that could have just as easily been a whimper or a cough. Probably a cough. A very straight, heterosexual cough.
"Perhaps," Stephen said, trying to jerk his arm out of Tad's freakishly strong grip. He made a sort of grunting noise as he slithered snakelike. He needed to get the upper hand again!
Tad hooked his legs around Stephen's hips and laid his upper body down on him to give him a little more strength in the pinning. Stephen wriggled and Tad grunted a bit, trying to hold on tight.
"Had enough?" He wasn't going to let Stephen win this one!
Stephen spit out the bit of carpet that had found its way into his mouth and shouted, "Never!" He gathered all his strength and threw all his weight to one side, rolling them over.
"Ahh!" Tad let out a surprised yell as he tumbled off of Stephen, falling to the side. He wasn't the only one with strength of freak-like proportions!
Stephen effectively pinned Tad by the shoulders, much like the lions did in The Lion King. His kids loved that movie.
"Ha!" Smug, he made a mistake and pointed in Tad's face.
"Ha, HA!" Tad countered, batting away the finger and rolling them over again, sitting triumphantly on Stephen once again, this time straddling him face to face. He was much more forward when he wrestled.
"Dammit," was all Stephen could say. He put his hands on Tad's thighs and pushed.
Tad pressed down, unwilling to give up the fight that easily and accidentally--accidentally!--ground his hips against Stephen's while trying to hold on to his position on top.
The gasp that left Stephen's mouth was clearly brought on from the exertion of rolling around, nothing else.
"You're cheating somehow, I know it!" he said, fingers slipping on the material of Tad's pants.
"I am not!" Tad replied, losing his concentration for a moment as he looked down at Stephen's fingers, wondering if he was going to tear Tad's pants completely off.
"Are too," Stephen retorted childishly before shoving at Tad's legs again. "Look, I'd really rather not ruin this shirt, time out."
Tad paused for a moment, trying to catch his breath before he nodded okay and climbed off of Stephen, wondering if the wrestling was over or if he'd just remove his shirt and continue on. Tad hoped it was the latter.
Sitting up and trying to regain his composure, Stephen slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Damn, it would be hard to get the wrinkles out, not that that was Stephen’s job. Eyes meeting Tad’s, he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders.
Tad offered him a grin, watching the shirt slowly slide down his shoulders. "Is it getting hot in here?" he asked after a moment, unable to tear his gaze away from Stephen. "It seems hot in here."
Stephen smirked at Tad's words, folding his shirt and setting it aside. "Want me to turn up the A/C?" He scrambled to his knees and lunged, sending the two of them to the ground again. "Time in!"
Tad nodded, "Ye--" before Stephen lunged at him, cutting him off mid-sentence. Now on his back, Tad gave Stephen a shove and a pout. "You're the one who is cheating!" Damn, he was really going to need that health insurance after this.
"I'm allowed to cheat, I'm the boss." Stephen pushed the hands away and pinned them above Tad's head. He grinned, settling his weight on Tad's hips.
Well, that was true. Stephen was the boss...Tad couldn't argue with that iron logic.
"It still seems wrong," he muttered, struggling against Stephen--though not too much, because he rather liked being pinned under him. In a straight, wrestling, manly way, of course.
"I'm never--" Stephen panted, squeezing his legs against Tad's upper thighs. "--wrong. Make a note of it." He appeared to be winning, as Tad wasn't making much of an effort anymore.
Tad frowned at that, annoyed. He'd like to call Stephen's bluff on that, but if Stephen was giving out firings like candy on Halloween, then Tad didn't want any part of that. He thrust his hips up against Stephen's to distract him, so he could gain the upper hand.
Every time they did this, Tad ended up fighting dirty. It seemed now was that time again.
Stephen bit down the moan that tried to come out, his grip tightening on Tad's wrists. Almost unconsciously, he slid a ways down Tad's lower body, friction making him wild-eyed. "Do you give up?" he asked manically.
"No!" Tad said immediately before pausing. "Well...maybe." He couldn't really think with Stephen pressed against him like that! It was too hard... hard...hard to make a decision, that is. "If I say yes, does that mean you're going to get off of me?" he asked, sounding disappointed.
Eyebrow raised, Stephen pondered the question. They both knew where this was headed; would it really matter if they gave up all pretense of 'wrestling'?
Yes, yes it would. This was not a gay thing.
"Probably not," he answered, moving one hand down Tad's arm to press against his chest, keeping the man on the ground. The opportunity to feel the muscle under his palm was welcome, too.
Tad sighed softly at the touch, relaxing as he lay back on the floor. "Good." He smiled slightly at Stephen, "Then yes, I do give, and you win." Of all the times Tad had let Stephen win, he decided this was definitely going to be his favourite.
"Aha!" Stephen cried in triumph. It didn't even occur to him that Tad would be letting him win. Shifting his weight on Tad in a way that was maddening to both parties, Stephen smiled, bringing both hands to his hips. He nodded, smug, and to anyone else, it would look as though he struck a preening pose for an invisible camera.
Tad rolled his eyes at Stephen's preening pose. He looked much too proud of himself for having been just given a victory.
"Yeah, congratulations," he teased.
Why was Tad so okay with losing? He was smiling, even! Shouldn't there be some pouting, maybe a tear?
"Thank you, Tad. How many wins is that for me, now?" Stephen ran a hand through his tousled hair. Tad was comfortable.
"I don't know, somewhere around a million?" Tad enjoyed how self-involved Stephen was sometimes, because he could tease his boss without the other man ever being the wiser. He brought his hands up to rest comfortably on Stephen's hips, just watching him gloat.
Stephen squinted an eye shut, thinking. Then he nodded. "That sounds about right. Have you even won once?" he asked, actually curious, and ignored the shiver that ran over him by Tad's touch.
Tad just shrugged, his thumbs rubbing in small circles on Stephen's skin. "A couple of times, I think." He was about to add that he felt like he was winning right now, but that seemed to cross into the territory of complete gayness, so he kept quiet.
Stephen sighed contently, then promptly cleared his throat and frowned.
"That's more than I remember," he started, but trailed off by lightly - but not too lightly - pinching Tad in his side. Things were getting a little too queer around here.
Tad squeaked at the sudden pinch and jumped a bit under Stephen, which only caused their hips to press together again.
"Well, 'a couple' isn't an exact number--just an estimate." Tad looked a bit sheepish, wondering if Stephen could feel his erection through the thin track pants he was wearing. Probably. Damn pants were betraying him. They were the ones that were gay, not him! It was all just because of the pants!
Caught off guard, Stephen was unable to stop the moan this time. Perhaps it hadn't been a good idea to straddle Tad's lap for so long; it was getting less comfortable...both underneath him and not.
Stephen coughed, trying to cover the traitorous noise he made, and found his equally traitorous fingers playing with the waistband of Tad's ugly track pants.
"I...um...so," Tad cleared his throat, watching Stephen's fingers. "It's a good thing you took your shirt off earlier." He paused, realizing how the sounded and quickly continued, "Because, it could have, uh, gotten damaged." His hands nervously fluttered at Stephen's sides before traveling up his chest. One might have brushed--then pinched--his nipple... maybe.
The touch shot straight to Stephen's groin and his hips jerked automatically. If he wasn't so turned on -- hadn't been so turned on since the start of this match -- he'd say something about how eager Tad was.
But then, Stephen liked his employees eager.
Tad moaned softly when Stephen's hips jerked and continued to dance his fingers over the other man's chest, periodically brushing or squeezing his nipples. This 'wrestling' might be more comfortable if they took it to the bedroom, but he still didn't have the courage to actually bring that up.
Stephen's eyes shut, his fingers dancing under the slick material of Tad's pants. He arched into the hands that were still on him and searched his mind desperately for something to say. He could only handle so much silence; he had to hear his voice!
"Yeah.." He had no idea what he was agreeing to.
"What?" Tad's hands paused on Stephen's chest and he looked at him warily, wondering if he'd actually asked the question aloud. "So...you do want to go into the bedroom?"
Hands stilling on the warm skin under Tad's clothing, Stephen blinked.
"What? No one wrestles in the bedroom!" He chuckled and pushed his hand further, fingers brushing along Tad's cock.
Tad whimpered at the touch, thrusting into Stephen's hand a few times before he realized that Stephen had actually spoken to him as well. "What? Uh..." he tried to form a coherent sentence with that hand still on him. "How would you know?"
Pleased with this reaction, Stephen said, "Have we ever?" He pulled his hand out to tug Tad's shirt up and over his head.
"No," Tad shook his head, "But I don't know what you do with other men." Stephen could have all kinds of...buildings with building managers! Still, he helped Stephen pull his shirt off and toss it aside.
Hurt, Stephen said, "You think I have this descriptionless, not gay relationship with other people?" He climbed off of Tad but sat beside him, fingering one of the snaps on the track pant legs.
Tad frowned a little, sliding closer to Stephen and shrugging. "I don't know...do you? You might have a non-gay relationship with all of your employees for all I know."
"Well I certainly don't have a gay relationship with any of them!" He unsnapped the button he was playing with, and then two more in quick succession. "Hell, I wasn't friends with any of them until you pointed out I could be, through you!"
"Oh," he replied sheepishly, "Right. I forgot about that." Tad gathered his courage and leaned over, brushing his lips across Stephen's.
Stephen froze, unsure of what to do. He and Tad had only kissed twice before and one of those times, Stephen had been drunk. It's never gay if you're drunk.
Hesitantly, he kissed back, just a little. His hand sneaked into the gap made by the open snaps of Tad's pants.
Tad purred approvingly into the kiss, bringing a hand up to tangle in Stephen's hair as his tongue slid into the other man's mouth. This still wasn't gay, he rationalized, because they were still wrestling. They were just...using different body parts to do so.
Tongue, that was new. Stephen would normally have balked by now, but it felt really good. It felt good in his gut -- among other places -- and he always followed his gut. Obviously, none of this was gay if his gut told him otherwise!
Biting Tad's lower lip gently, Stephen's hand moved up, unsnapping more snaps. His free hand rested at Tad's hip, massaging lightly.
Tad groaned softly into the kiss and moved to straddle Stephen's hips, tugging on his hair lightly as the kiss intensified.
Completely out of breath, Stephen broke the kiss. Fingers again going to the other man's waistband, he said between pants, "Take these off," and tugged impatiently.
"Way ahead of you there," Tad replied, grabbing the front of the pants and giving them a good tug. The snaps came unfastened and he tossed them away, hoping that looked as sexy as it did in his mind.
Eyebrow raised, Stephen was impressed. Besides being eager, Tad thought ahead. He was becoming quite the it-getter.
However, Stephen was still half dressed, and he would die before getting stains on his black slacks.
So he pushed Tad off his lap.
Tad glanced down at Stephen's slacks and as if reading his mind, replied, "Your turn."
Stephen tried to remove the remainder of his clothing gracefully, but it was difficult when he was sitting on the floor with a hard-on. Finally kicking them off, he turned back to Tad and looked him up and down.
"Nice boxers," he said with approval, staring at the red and white stripes. He may have stared longer than needed.
Tad glanced at his in return and might have--just might have--giggled a little. They were wearing the exact same American flag print boxers. Both of their flags, Tad noticed, were definitely flying high and proud.
A bit put off by the giggle, Stephen frowned. Why was he always the one caught off guard here? This wasn't right!
He walked forward on his knees and grabbed the back of Tad's neck, aggressively pulling him so that their mouths crashed together. The length of their bodies aligned and Stephen was satisfied.
Tad wasn't giggling in a bad way, he just though it was funny after all this time of imagining what Stephen had on under that suit, it turned out to be the same kind of boxers he himself wore...and then Stephen crashed their mouths together and Tad stopped thinking completely.
Hands scratching down the smooth expanse of skin across Tad's back, sucking his tongue into his own mouth, Stephen entertained the thought of giving Tad a raise.
A raise? Hell, Stephen could have fired him right now and Tad wouldn't have even cared. He whimpered again, hands slowly trailing down Stephen's chest before finding his boxers and reaching inside.
Thrusting into Tad's hand, Stephen was unable to choke back a deep moan because his mouth was already preoccupied. He slid a shaking hand down over Tad's hip to behind his knee, lifting so that Tad's ankle would hook over Stephen's hip. It provided better angles.
Tad slid forward more, hooking a leg around the back of Stephen's and pushing both of their boxers down. He broke the kiss to catch his breath as he took both of their cocks in hand, looking slightly unsure.
The jolt of pure pleasure rocked Stephen's body so hard it knocked him off balance. They fell back onto the ground and Stephen landed hard, which caused an explosive friction where their cocks met. Stephen gasped.
"Oh my fuck."
"Yes," Tad breathed, hand still working quickly. It was...unbelievable, really, how good it felt. They should have tried this new non-gay wrestling years ago!
If Stephen were the type to whimper, he'd have done so right about then. Hips snapping, he tried to keep his balance over Tad but his arms were shaking so much they threatened to give out any second. Toes digging into the carpet, Stephen began to drop open mouthed kisses across Tad's upper chest.
Tad dropped a frantic trail of kisses down Stephen's neck, teeth dragging over the skin just hard enough to leave a mark. He could feel Stephen's body tensing against his and had to bite his lip to keep from moaning again. Damn it, he was already so close.
Stephen squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to last longer than this. If he had to see Tad, writhing beneath him, biting down on that full, so soft lip, Stephen was sure he'd be gone. He was the boss, he couldn't be first! He tried to keep these logical thoughts in mind, trying to block Tad’s harsh breaths and moans from his ear.
Tad squeezed his eyes shut as well, trying to mentally coach himself to last longer, but it was too late--Stephen was sliding against him and all he could do was moan and meet him thrust for thrust, giving in to the waves of pleasure that rippled through out his body as he came.
Forehead dropping onto Tad's shoulder, Stephen couldn't help but feel a little smug when Tad came first. He knew he could do it! But the thought was fleeting; the sounds that came from Tad's mouth and the way he was moving made Stephen suddenly think of other things they could do. With Tad on his stomach.
The mental image seared into his mind, Stephen gave in, arms folding in on themselves as he came, his full weight meeting Tad's.
Tad grinned to himself as they both fell backwards on the floor, trying to catch their breath.
Weak, sated...and a little sticky, Stephen stared at the ceiling. "Have you seen my pants?"
Tad shrugged and lifted his head off the ground, glancing around, "They've got to be here some where." Sitting up, he pulled on his boxers again and then set to work snapping all the snaps on his pants back together. They sat in silence for a moment before Tad started again, "So, about that health insurance..."
The other man being no help at all, Stephen found his own pants and tugged them on.
When Tad spoke, Stephen smiled winningly at him and clapped him on the shoulder, buddy-like. "I don't think now's the right time for that, Tad."
Tad sighed, watching Stephen go back into 'boss mode'. "Well...when would be the right time?" he asked, still snapping his pants up.
Climbing to his feet, Stephen stood, his crotch at Tad's eye level.
"Come by next weekend, we'll talk about it."
Well, the man drove a hard bargain, but after this wrestling session, how could he refuse? "I'll see you then."
Stephen was smug and began making plans.
End.