Oberstein leaned back on the couch as Ferner quietly opened the snaps on his jacket. The door had been locked and the curtains had been drawn. It was, for all intents and purposes, been totally clipped away from reality, as simple as snipping a rose from the stem. Ferner smiled and pushed the jacket off Oberstein's shoulders, tossing it across the room onto the desk. It scattered some papers and Ferner found himself on the receiving end of a particularly sharp glare from Oberstein. Ferner leaned down and gently stroked his cheek with a finger.
"We can always pick them up later." he cooed before pressing kisses against Oberstein's cheek. He moved down then, across his neck and down to his chest where he splayed his fingers across his pale skin.
"You're trembling, do you know that?"
Ferner pressed a kiss to Oberstein's sternum and allowed his hands to wander.
"I can stop, if you like."
"No."
Ferner looked up, surprised at just how fast the answer had come to him. Oberstein was giving him a decidedly demanding look, as though to say 'I really want this, so don't you dare stop!' All it took was a moment and Ferner had melted, grabbing Oberstein's head and pressing his lips firmly over his superiors. This routine was normal and Oberstein had adjusted to it, learning all the motions of true passion, even if he wasn't capable of feeling that way himself. He slipped a hand into Ferner's silvery hair and even closed his eyes. For the moment, Ferner was proud.