Title: Damnit Dwight!
Rating: M – Mature – smut here!
Warnings: Male on Male sexual action, hj and talk of other stuff. Dwight being almost canonly turned on by getting yelled at.
Pairing: Jim/Dwight action… mentions of established Jim/Dwight/Pam relationship
Summary: After Deangelo yells at Dwight near the end of "Inner Circle", he finds himself a bit … distracted and seeks out Jim to give him a hand.
Author's Note: Pretty much just smut, which isn't what happens in my Office fics, but you got to admit – Dwight was pretty darn flustered by being yelled at, all out of breath and flushed when he says he responds to authority.
"Damnit Dwight! Enough! Get your ass downstairs or find a new place to sell paper!"
Dwight's eyes widened and he rocked to his feet obediently, nearly tripping over himself to follow him. All thoughts of ignoring him, standing up to him, were gone in an instant and he would find time later to be ashamed of that.
He hustled until he reached Deangelo's elbow, "Do you need me to get you anything?"
He didn't see the smirk and when he tried to follow him in the elevator Deangelo reached out one hand to push him back, now that he had Dwight's number it was easy. "You wait for the next one."
Dwight was already nodding, stepping back, and he felt short of breath. The doors closed and he was left waiting by himself. Jim came around the corner, a little worried about Dwight after being yelled at like that, he knew he was still hurting after Michael left.
"Dwight, you okay?" Dwight's body was strung tight and when Jim reached out to touch his back he whimpered, whirling to face Jim.
It only took a moment for the worry to slide off his face, he recognized the signs all too well. Dwight's pupils were dilated, and he was panting, face flushed. He couldn't help the grin, "You alright?"
"Fine."
Jim stalked forward and the fact that Dwight let himself be backed into the wall said a lot. His movements hidden from the camera by their bodies he let one hand drop to brush against the front of Dwight's pants, not at all surprised to find him hard. He leaned in close, "You still going to tell me that being submissive doesn't turn you on?"
"It doesn't." He was flustered though, distracted by Jim's fingers rubbing more insistently, "I'm not."
Jim glanced around to make sure no one was coming and pressed in harder, intrigued by how hard, how fast Dwight was. He kept touching, gently kneeing Dwight's thigh until he spread his feet a little and he leaned in close, "Bull. He yelled at you in front of everyone, put you in your place," the cock under his hand twitched and Jim was really enjoying it too much, "And it made you hard."
He didn't argue, though he tried to glare. A well placed touched ruined it though as he moaned. "I told you, come on. Let's get down there."
Jim stepped back but Dwight stayed pressed against the wall, and reached out to grab Jim's arm. "No, wait."
Jim raised an eyebrow at him, his own body responding to the helpless arousal on Dwight's face. He really could hide nothing. He waited for him to break, and was rewarded when Dwight's eyes finally darted away to the bathroom and back, looking hopeful.
"Now?" They didn't really have time, but he hated to give up a moment to enjoy Dwight's submissive side, and he'd love to encourage it. "We don't have time."
"I'll be quick. Please."
Jim considered it, "If we're late he might yell at you more." It may have been true but he said it just to tease, carefully watching Dwight's reaction. A frustrated whine escaped his mouth and Jim responded by sliding his hand over the bulge in his pants. "Say please."
It made him squirm, cock even harder and he finally sputtered out, "Please."
"I'm not really feeling it Dwight."
"Please, please Jim. Please."
They were still in the hallway but he reached up to start pulling Dwight's shirt out of his pants, a little undone himself at the way Dwight could beg. "Tell me that you like when I tell you what to do."
"No."
"Then no."
One thing he could always count on was Dwight caving. The words came out stuttered, forced, "I like when you tell me what to do."
The anger in the words made him smile, and his next words came out more affectionately. "Come on." He pulled him by the waist of his pants, not really thinking about what he was doing.
Inside the bathroom he slammed the lock into place and wasted no time spinning Dwight around and pressing him face first against the door. He tugged at Dwight's pants until they slid down to mid-thigh and plastered himself against his back, reaching around to wrap his hand possessively around his dick. "Dwight?"
His forehead was pressed against the door, hips jerking into Jim's touch, dazed, but the authority in Jim's voice was clear and his answer was breathy, "Yes?"
"Remember when I hit you in the face with the snowball?"
Dwight's body hesitated, tensing. "Yes."
"When everyone laughed and you demanded I apologize?" He stroked harder, fingers slick with precum, "and I refused and you just had to take it?"
Dwight pressed both hands against the door, looking like he was trying to steady himself. "Yes." It was thin, muddled with lust and Jim knew he was close. It was dangerous bringing up that particular moment since Dwight had won in the end that but he was betting he was too caught up to think that far ahead.
"Did it make you hard?" Dwight didn't answer and Jim slowed his touches until he was just grazing his fingers over him, "Dwight?"
"What?"
"Did it make you hard having to back down to me in front of everyone?"
Dwight tried to turn in the hold, a glare firmly in place but he finally gave up and turned back to the wall, "Yes."
Jim's other hand came up instantly, sliding up under Dwight's shirt to splay across his stomach affectionately, even as his other arm started to move again. He recognized the tone, bitter, frustrated and a little bit hurt, the tone that told him he had pushed Dwight far enough. He could keep pushing, God knew he had in the past, but it would hurt him and he had no desire to do that, not anymore.
"Good boy, Dwight, good."
The praise made his breath hitch and his hips jerk and he was just… a mess, but he was their mess. He let his mind wander for a moment, distracted thinking about how he would like to extend this game when they went home but Dwight's voice pulled him back.
"Jim?" Small, unsure, things in his voice that they were trying to train out of him.
"Yes. You can cum." Too late he realized that they were going to make a mess, but he couldn't worry about it now. He pulled Dwight tight against him when he came, whimpering and going almost slack for a moment. When he shifted he hesitated, obvious that Jim was aroused too and he reached for him.
"No time, we're already really late.' He pressed hard against his ass though, "Tonight you're gonna do whatever I tell you, got it?"
He didn't look particularly happy about it, though he didn't look that upset either, and he nodded. Jim grinned and pressed back to grab a handful of paper towels. "Clean up the mess."
There wasn't even a flash of resentment at that and Dwight dropped to his knees, intent on the task but looked up after a moment when he realized that Jim hadn't moved. When his eyes came up he realized he was eye level with his crotch. He licked his lips nervously, Jim's eyes darting to watch but then he was stepping back. "I'm going to get down there before we really do get fired. Finish this up and come down."
He should have expected the sudden fear that flashed on Dwight's face, he had seen it more than enough, but it always caught him off guard because he would never understand how the job meant enough to him for him to be so distraught about losing it. Dwight picked up his pace, almost panicked, trying to finish what he was doing.
He flipped open the lock, but turned back. "Here." When Dwight looked up he tossed him a tape measurer. Dwight caught it but stared blankly at him. "We need it to measure the foul line; you can tell him you were getting it, that's why you're late."
Relief washed over his face as he slid the tape measurer into his pocket and he nodded. Jim slipped out, that had been his excuse but they were later than he had intended and one of them was going to get yelled at. It might turn Dwight on, but it wouldn't make him happy. In reality it would embarrass him, undermine what little self-confidence him and Pam had managed to instill in him.
No, Deangelo would be happy Dwight brought it and tell him he was a good employee and the praise would make his day. It would make him cocky, true, but that just made it all the better that when they got home he'd be sure to have him on his knees. He was still grinning about that when he reached the warehouse and Deangelo screamed at him for being late, but he didn't care.
Pam gave him a questioning look but he just shrugged and mouthed "Dwight." She nodded like she understood and she probably did.
Dwight preened at the praise when he arrived with the tape measurer, even taking a shot at Jim for forgetting it. Obnoxious, true, but that was their Dwight. He ignored Jim, but moved to Pam's side, and that told him more than anything that he was still a little shaken up. She was the one he sought affection, reassurance from.
She glanced up at him, and her face gave away that she knew that they had been up to something and she reached out to tug him down so she could whisper something in his ear. Whatever it was made his eyes widen, a blush working its way up his face, and he took her hand in his before obediently looking back to Deangelo.
Jim should be watching what was going on but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Pam and Dwight. Dwight glanced his way, and he smiled before he realized it, Dwight returning it automatically before turning back to Deangelo and oh, did he have plans for Dwight when they got home.
