Warning: MATURE SEXUAL CONTENTS! (that means OVER 18s...This is my warning so i have done my civil duty as a writer. XD My mind is at rest!), M/M (Yes, that does mean man on man action! YAY! XD), Bad language (one word, but better safe than sorry...)

I just re-saw this movie yesterday and i was like, 'stop everything. I want some office smut! NOW!' XD And so...with the help of my highly imaginative and disturbingly dirty mind, here is the result! OwO

Well i hope u guys like it and if u can please leave a review. It only takes a second and it will make my day! XD Thank you in advance! ENJOY~

Also, I do NOT own This Means War or any of the characters.

Just Another Boring Day at the Office

'I hate being grounded!' FDR ran his hand through his soft hair in exasperation. If he slouched in his seat his view would be completely obstructed by the towering stacks of papers. Did the boss honestly expect him to go through all of it!? Him? FDR Foster?! Absurd!

'We all do.' FDR glanced at his partner who looked just as miserable. But unlike himself, Tuck was genuinely focused on his work. He was just trying to get through the day and, what looked like, the night.

'Why did she give us this much to do though? I mean, it's like a paper mountain!' He fell back in his chair and swung it from side to side. His eyes stared at the blank ceiling. The entire building was eerily silent. Everyone was off duty. Everyone except them of course. This was their punishment for fucking things up with Heinrich.

'Mate, the sooner you make peace with it the sooner you'll get it done.' Tuck wanted to get his work done and go home. If he was lucky he could maybe catch an hour of sleep.

'Come on! You can't tell me you're not a little annoyed about this.' Tuck tore his eyes away from the paper and glanced at his partner. Oceanic blue orbs stared right back.

'Of course I'm annoyed but there's not much I can do about it so….my advice to you dear friend, is to stop talking and start reading.' He gave FDR a quick smile before lowering his eyes to his work once more.

'That's louse advice….' FDR was mumbling, like a little petulant child. Tuck would normally find it amusing, even cute, but he was already stretching his nerves to the limits. He decided to ignore FDR. Unfortunately that was a grave lapse in judgement. FDR hated being ignored…

'You know…If things weren't so boring then I'm sure this crappy work would get done a lot faster.' Tuck refused to indulge the other man. He stubbornly kept his eyes down, aware that FDR was up and moving towards him. 'And I think I know how to get things more…exciting around here.' Tuck was finding it more and more difficult to concentrate on the inky words. They seemed to turn into swarms of ants, running rampart on the paper plains.

Tuck physically tensed when FDR stepped behind him. The playboy was planning something. Something that had trouble written all over it.

'Mate, what are you planning?'

'Me? Planning? I'm hurt that you would think that about me.' Tuck didn't have to look behind him to know FDR was grinning. A grin that would make the Cheshire Cat proud. Tuck flinched when he felt his partner's hands on his shoulders. 'My~ You're very tense. We should do something about that.'

'FDR, what are you…' But when the agent began to massage his tense muscles the words died on his tongue. He couldn't help relaxing under the touch. Say what you will about the man, but he could give one hell of a great massage. His soft hands magically found all the right spots and it took less than a minute before all of Tuck's shoulder muscles were like putty in FDR's hands. 'Oh my lord. Have you ever considered being a professional masseur?' He heard FDR chuckle lightly.

Tuck was too relaxed, a dangerous state for an agent... FDR's hands were no longer on his shoulders but at the opening of his shirt and the lithe fingers were easily popping the buttons apart. By the time Tuck understood the implications, half the buttons were already undone.

'FDR! Wow, mate! What are you doing?' Tuck practically jumped out of the chair and backed against the desk. Oops…He was trapped between a desk and a hard place.

'I'm sure you can figure it out by yourself. Or do you want me to say it? Do you want me to talk dirty…partner?' FDR practically purred the words out. He took a step closer towards the startled British agent, trapping him yet further. It was like a game of cat and mouse and FDR was very good at being the cat.

'Okay. I think we all need to take a step back and clear our heads. Actually, we should take at least five steps back.' FDR grinned, loving Tuck's flustered reaction.

'Well I think you're just scared because you know you'll like it.' FDR's arms were flanking Tuck on either side and he was only an inch away from him. A simple lean and their lips would be united. Tuck looked terrified and if he pushed back against the desk any more, FDR was certain he would fall over. He leaned in so he could whisper into Tuck's ear. 'Because you know I can make you cry with pleasure…'

That was a bad, bad move... FDR may have been a cat, but Tuck was a wolf. And a hungry wolf was an angry wolf. In one fluent swing Tuck had FDR on his back. Wide blue eyes stared up at him with open shock. Papers were sent flying everywhere, making way for the new occupant of the metal desk. And suddenly things stopped being fun and became steamy hot.

Tuck was a gentle lover but that only applied when he was with women. FDR was about to find out how wild a British person could be… Tuck's mouth was on the other agent's and he was devouring the parted lips with relish. His tongue darted inside and twisted around the other verbal muscle in a passionate tango. Tuck's hands pulled at FDR's shirt and they broke apart for long enough to discard the pesky material. When he had the agent half naked below him Tuck grinned wickedly, right before he proceeded to latch his lips to the arched, exposed throat with savour and tracing the protruding veins with languid licks.

Contrary to FDR's expectations, he was the one reduced to moaning first. He wasn't quite crying with pleasure yet, but Tuck was determined to change that. His hands ran all over FDR's firm chest and only paused in their exploration when they reached the barrier of the black jeans. Tight jeans, giving Tuck a clear view of just how eager his partner was.

'Looks to me like you're the one who's scared now…partner…' FDR wanted to say something witty and he opened his mouth to speak but all he managed to do was moan wantonly when Tuck's hand pressed against the hard bulge. FDR's eyes were impossibly wide and they darkened with lust. A bright flush coloured his cheeks and it made him look adorable. Tuck couldn't resist leaning down and planting a reassuring kiss on the man's mouth. Soft and gentle.

'You really are British, aren't you?...'FDR meant it as a mock insult, aware that Tuck still had no idea why being British was such a disastrous thing, but he earned a grinding of Tuck's hips. One that had him bucking his hips right back.

'If I were you, I wouldn't say much mate.' FDR wasn't sure what was wrong with him but he absolutely loved this. He loved being dominated in this way by another man, even though he was usually the top. If he really wished to, he was certain he could reverse their positions but he liked where he was. If only Tuck would hurry up and give him what he most desired then things really would be perfect.

'Same goes for you! Now hurry up and-…' Another sharp thrust of Tuck's hips and FDR's words stopped in his throat. However, he got his point across and Tuck was perfectly content with taking this to the next level. He practically growled as he roughly pulled the trousers down FDR's long legs and threw them on the floor beside the forgotten shirt. Tuck was feeling the inconvenience of his own garments. He felt FDR's hungry eyes on him as he removed his own shirt and proceeded to unbuckle his belt.

'Like what you see Franklin?' Only Tuck and his family called him by his true name and it brought a sweet intimacy to the act. FDR moaned, showing his appreciation and answering the posed question. Tuck seemed thoroughly pleased with this and he kissed the other agent passionately. When he pulled back he had a slight frown on his face.

'FDR, I've never done this with a man before. What…What comes next?...' FDR smiled indulgently at his partner and reached for a reassuring kiss, before pushing Tuck away roughly into the desk chair. Before any questions could be asked, FDR was straddling Tuck's lap and their mouths were united once more. Tuck's hands were on his back, then on his hips, pulling him as close as possible, chests touching and heart beats raging.

'I'll take care of it…' FDR's words were breathy and raspy. He moved his hips and ground their bodies together, gasping from the delicious friction. Under Tuck's supervision, FDR placed two fingers inside his mouth and moved his tongue along them seductively. It made Tuck wish that some other part of him was occupying that lovely mouth. When he was done, FDR took the fingers out and moved his hand behind his back, out of Tuck's line of sight.

Tuck reached out and gripped FDR's hips simply because he wanted to touch. FDR's spine arched and he moaned loudly as he inserted the fist finger into himself. Tuck was mesmerised by the sight and couldn't stop staring. FDR moved along with his thrusting fingers, two of them now, and he became more vocal with each passing second.

Tuck couldn't take it anymore. He had to take charge. He wanted to be the reason why FDR made those noises associated with fantastic sex. He pulled FDR to him and lifted him up slightly so that he could properly position himself. A glance from FDR and he buried himself into his warmth and tight entrance. He paused, giving the gasping man a chance to recollect himself. Tuck cursed with delight as he felt the incinerating ring of muscles constrict around him.

'Ready?' Tuck dug his fingers into FDR's skin. That was going to bruise later…

'Fuck yeah...' The British agent smirked at the open eagerness and started moving, taking a vigorous pace from the very beginning. Despite what FDR thought, he wasn't rusty when it came to sex. Not at all and FDR was receiving an expert pounding as undeniable proof.

Tuck groaned and FDR moaned, calling his name with every roll of the hips as their bodies rocked in union. The chair creaked with their movements and Tuck hoped it wouldn't break. That would be something to explain to the head office tomorrow morning…. Tuck also made a quick mental note to delete all of the footage recording them. Past that his mental functions shut down and all he could see, hear, feel was FDR.

'Tuck…I'm!...Oh…' Senseless stream of words were all that could be understood through the amorous noises, the shockingly explicit curses and Tuck's name which was chanted like a prayer. But it was warning enough for Tuck to know what was coming.

'Yeah mate. Me too…' And the soft words sent FDR over the edge, drowning into his sea of pleasure. His mouth fell open but he choked up. Caught somewhere between a cry and a gasp. Tuck's seed ran down his thigh and leg. The two gasped for breath until they managed to regain their senses.

'Well…that certainly was exciting.' Tuck grinned and FDR chuckled.

'I told you so.' His cocky grin was back where it belonged. Right on those beautifully swollen red lips.

'Yes, and you also mentioned something about making me cry…' Tuck rubbed his thumb at the corner of FDR's eye and retracted it to show moisture on it. FDR glanced at it and his grin slightly wavered.

'Next time.' FDR swiped his tongue over the finger, tasting his own salty tears.

'Is that a challenge?'

THE END? (most likely...XD) Well i sure hope you guys enjoyed this, even a little. Please let me know if that is, or is not, the case through much appreciated reviews. (I'll love you for it...X3)

HAVE A LOVELY DAY!~