"Happy Anniversary!" Leslie opened the door to Ben's office, smiling.
Ben's mouth drops open in surprise.
"It's the Iron Throne! It's the Iron Throne!" He gasps.
"Yes, it is! I had the guy at the model store make a replica. He's a bigger Game of Thrones fan than you are!" Leslie points her fingers at Ben, a wide smile on her face.
"Okay, I know I'm making that dumb surprise face, but I can't help it. This is the greatest gift I've ever received, Leslie!" He says, still in disbelief.
"When you play the game of thrones you win or you die."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No!"
"Come here, come hither, peasant. Come here. Who are you?" Ben says in a faux English accent as he leans back in his chair, hands hanging lazily at his sides.
Leslie steps forward, "Our starship is in trouble—"
"Okay, Leslie—" Ben raises his hands, breaking character. "If you're not— if you don't know what you're talking about—"
"Okay, okay." She raises her hands, moving to sit in his lap.
He wraps his arms around her waist. "Seriously, thank you."
"You're welcome." She smiles. "I just can't believe you really thought you could beat me at a gift exchange."
"Don't rub it in."
He runs his hand along her thigh, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips.
"You know," Leslie begins. "There's no one here. We could break it in."
The rational part of his brain suggests otherwise, but the other part can't resist the chance to fulfill a lifelong fantasy of his.
"—Yes."
He responds, maybe a bit more quickly than he would have liked but all reasonable thoughts fly out the window as soon as Leslie's mouth meets his.
He groans as his lips collide with hers, his hands holding her tightly against him. Her palm quickly makes its way to his belt. He exhales shakily as she drops to her knees in front of him, and he absolutely cannot believe this is happening. Leslie is about to give him a blowjob in the fucking Iron Throne.
She undoes the buckle, her other hand on his thigh and he swears he's so hard he can't even think straight. She runs her hand over the hardness in his pants, teasing him.
"Leslie—"
And then her hand is around his cock and he can't focus on anything else but his beautiful, amazing wife. She runs her hand over his length, her thumb running over his tip, feeling the pre cum gathered there. He shudders as she brings her mouth to his cock, planting a kiss against him before taking him in.
He lets out a long, drawn out moan as she slides down his shaft, his fingers tangling in her hair and Leslie swears she will never get tired of this. Of him. She would do anything to make him happy.
His hips thrusting into her mouth, she wraps her hand around the base of his cock, her other hand stroking his thigh. He leans his head back, eyes closed as he tries to take in every detail. The feeling of her mouth and tongue around his cock, his fingers in her hair. He's so far gone now he couldn't stop if he wanted to.
"Leslie," he groans, but he didn't need to say it. She knew Ben. She could tell by the way his body tensed, brow furrowed, and knuckles white as he gripped the chair. She hummed against him and he almost lost it. "Oh fuck, Leslie."
And he was gone.
He shuddered harshly, releasing a moan as he came. She stroked his thighs, gently bringing him back down. He almost felt dizzy. Ben Wyatt would never have hoped in a million years to find someone as caring and absolutely amazing as Leslie Knope.
He pulled her to him, gently bringing his lips down to hers only pulling away to catch his breath. "I love you and I like you."
She smiled.
"I love you," she said softly, kissing him again. "And I like you." He ran his thumbs over her hands, pulling away to clean himself up.
"Let's go home, I think I have a couple more ideas for that chair."