"Is it working now?"

Sting's voice came from behind Gray's desk and was quickly followed by a muffled curse as he banged his head against something.

"Nope." Gray flicked the webcam on and off a few times, but the picture remained the same – nothing but static. "I think it might be a lost cause."

"I can fix it," Sting insisted. He leaned further forward, bending down to fiddle with the cords at the back of the computer. Gray's eyes traced the lines of his tight jeans up his thighs and around the curve of his ass, and he was tempted to reach down and run a hand up the fabric.

"Don't worry about it," Gray said, swallowing as Sting shifted again, giving Gray a truly spectacular view of his ass. His shirt was pulled up in the back, showing of a soft expanse of pale skin that Gray really, really wanted to kiss. "I can just tell them I'll be… um. Audio only."

Sting sighed, slipping out from under the desk and shaking out his hair. "It's a mess back there," he said. "I think you might need a new computer." He settled down on his knees and yawned, stretching his arms above his head. The movement pulled his shirt tight across his chest, and Gray was sure he wasn't imagining the hint of a smile on Sting's lips when he did it.

"Are you trying to turn me on?" Gray demanded, rolling his computer chair forward and reaching out to brush Sting's hair from his face. "Or are you really that oblivious?"

"Mm." Sting grinned, tipping his head to the side and nipping at Gray's wrist. He shifted forward on his knees and put both hands on Gray's thighs, running his thumbs up and down the fabric of Gray's jeans. "I could feel you staring at my ass, babe."

"It's a very nice ass," Gray admitted, shivering when Sting's hands moved further up his thighs. "And there are a thousand things I would like to do to it, but I have a meeting in…" He glanced at the clock on the computer screen. "Two minutes."

"Are you sure you have to join it?" Sting asked, moving his hands up to Gray's hips and slipping them up his shirt. Gray's fingers tightened in Sting's hair and he tipped his head back against the chair.

"Yes, it's—hnnn, yes, it's necessary." He shivered as Sting nudged his shirt out of the way and pressed a kiss to his stomach. "They're explaining… ahh, h-how to… the remote workstation thing."

"You already know how to do that," Sting replied, rubbing his thumbs over Gray's hips and dipping below the waist of his jeans. "Tell them you're in quarantine with your insanely good-looking boyfriend who is bored to death because he hasn't left the house in two weeks, and you can't come to the phone right now."

"You're ridiculous," Gray said fondly.

Sting laughed, his breath warm against Gray's skin. "You love me, though."

"Only because you're pretty."

"I am pretty," Sting agreed, looking up at Gray and grinning. "And I have an idea." His fingers rested over the button of Gray's jeans, waiting for permission, and Gray's eyes widened.

"During the call?" he asked. The idea sent a rush of heat through him and he squirmed in the seat under Sting's touch.

"You're not on camera," Sting said. "And you can be quiet." He bit his lip and stared up at Gray with those bright blue eyes he could never say no to. "Right?"

"Fuck," Gray murmured, nodding as Sting's fingers made quick work of his belt, then tugged his pants down to his thighs. "Just…"

"'Pineapples' if you want me to stop," Sting murmured, kissing Gray's stomach as he ran his hands up Gray's thighs. Gray let out a soft moan, wetness pooling between his legs before Sting even got close.

"I definitely don't want you to stop," Gray managed, combing his fingers through Sting's hair. As Sting nudged his legs further apart and he shifted closer in the chair, his computer started to ring. Gray clicked the 'answer' button with a shaky hand.

"Hey!" The face of Gray's boss, Cameron, filled his computer screen and he panicked momentarily, nearly hitting the 'end call' button before he realized that Cam couldn't see him. He exhaled in relief, then quickly grabbed the webcam from the top of the monitor and tossed it behind the desk, not wanting to take any chances.

"Hey," Gray said, voice catching as Sting's fingers moved up the inside of his thighs. "Sorry, my, uh… the camera isn't working." His fingers tightened in Sting's hair as Sting's thumb ghosted across the front of his boxers, just barely brushing his clit. He shifted his hips forward instinctually, biting back a moan when Sting nipped his thigh.

"That's all right," Cam said, grinning, and Gray quickly minimized the video. "We're just waiting for Mark and Kevin. How're you holding up at home? You've got Sting and the cats to keep you company so you don't go too crazy, eh?"

"Y-yeah," Gray said shakily as Sting's fingers dipped below the waist of his boxers, then tugged them down and out of the way. He spread Gray's legs further, and then his tongue was on Gray's clit and Gray cursed.

"You all right there?" Cameron asked, and Gray's cheeks burned as he pressed forward against Sting's tongue.

"Yeah, f-fine," Gray said, swallowing heavily. "Just banged my knee on the desk." He exhaled, running his fingers through Sting's hair as Sting ran his tongue along the length of Gray's cunt, then pressed hard against his clit. "H-how's, uh… your dog?"

Cam immediately launched into a story that Gray paid no attention to. Instead he hit 'mute' on his microphone, then moved closer to the edge of the chair and spread his legs, gasping as Sting started to suck on his clit. One of Sting's hands stayed on Gray's hip while the other moved lower, brushing along his cunt before he slipped a finger inside.

"Christ," Gray groaned, tugging on Sting's hair as he continued to suck. Gray's cheeks burned and he could feel a hot flush spreading further across his chest with every touch. Sting added another finger, spreading and twisting them as he thrust slowly in and out.

"Looks like we're all here!" Cam's voice jerked Gray back to the present and he shuddered, brushing his thumb across Sting's temple. Sting backed off a little, switching to gentle licks across Gray's cunt and circling his clit with his tongue.

"Let's jump right in – you've all been given access to the new platform…"

Cam's voice faded into the background as Sting's touches continued, becoming more and more eager as Gray moaned quietly and pulled on his hair. "You sure you're on mute?" Sting murmured, pulling back for a second and raising an eyebrow at Gray.

"Yes," Gray hissed, double-checking the red icon on his computer before slumping back in the chair again.

"Good," Sting said, sliding two fingers back into Gray. "'cause I don't want anyone else hearing the noises you make when I do this."

Before Gray could say anything, Sting's head was back between his legs, fingers working in and out of him, tongue touching everywhere his fingers didn't. Gray cursed, hips moving to meet Sting's thrusts, crying out when Sting curled his fingers and sucked hard. His orgasm hit him hard enough to leave him breathless, rocking through him in waves as Sting worked him through it.

Eventually he shuddered, nudging Sting's head away as he collapsed back into the chair, trying to catch his breath. Sting wiped his face with the back of his hand, then pressed a soft kiss to the inside of Gray's knee.

"You okay?" he asked, grinning.

"You know I am, you little shit," Gray muttered, rubbing his face. "C'mere." He patted his thigh and Sting raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you have to—"

"Get your pants off," Gray said, voice dropping lower, "And get in my lap. Now."

The cocky expression on Sting's face quickly disappeared, replaced by a wide-eyed look of want. He quickly kicked his jeans off, then moved toward Gray, shifting in the computer chair until he was straddling Gray's thigh. The position brushed his cock against Gray's bare skin, and he shivered, letting out a soft moan.

"Good boy," Gray murmured, running his fingers through Sting's hair and pulling him in for a rough kiss. Sting hummed, sliding his tongue against Gray's as he rocked forward against Gray's thigh. "Perfect," Gray said, running his fingers through Sting's hair. "You're gonna come just like that."

"Gray," Sting groaned, tipping his head back as Gray's teeth scraped along his throat. "I want—need you to fuck me."

"Nope." Gray dragged his fingernails lightly down Sting's back, hands grabbing Sting's ass and pulling him closer. "The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

"Graaaay," Sting whined. He shifted back, cock rubbing against Gray's leg as he attempted to nudge Gray's fingers back. Unlike Gray, he didn't enjoy being touched in the front, but he loved Gray fingering – or fucking – his ass. "Please."

"I said no." Gray's voice was low, and Sting shivered as he rocked forward again. "You started this." He nipped at Sting's neck, then shifted closer to the edge of the chair.

Sting groaned, wrapping his arms around Gray's neck and grinding down against his thigh. He pressed his forehead to Gray's shoulder, making soft, contented sounds.

"Gray?"

Cam's voice startled both of them and Gray whispered a quick, "Be quiet, sweetheart," before leaning forward and unmuting his mic.

"Sorry, I think you cut out there," he said, voice remarkably calm.

"I was just asking if you could explain the process for updating the spreadsheets."

Gray made a sound of agreement, then opened the video window again. The faces of his coworkers filled the screen and Sting shivered, fingers tightening on Gray's shoulders. Even if they couldn't see him, the idea of them watching him, half-naked and rubbing against Gray's thigh, was exhilarating.

"I didn't say to stop," Gray murmured quietly as he opened up a spreadsheet and started the screen share. "Keep going."

"Fuck," Sting hissed, grinding down again. As Gray started to talk to his coworkers, his hand on Sting's hip nudged him to move quicker, until he was humping Gray's thigh and panting quietly in his ear.

"Good boy," Gray said softly, muting his mic as Cam took over for a quick explanation. "You're being so good for me. Keep going, you're gonna come like that, nice and quiet." Sting bit back a moan. "And then," Gray added, "when this call is done, I'm gonna take you upstairs and fuck you where you can be as loud as you want."

Sting was about to reply when Gray flicked on the mic again and started talking about cells and formulas. The hand on Sting's hip slid back, and when Gray's finger brushed over Sting's ass he nearly cried out.

"Yes," he whispered, rocking quicker, chasing his release. "'m so close, I want you in me, need you to fuck me." Gray's voice wavered in his explanation to his coworkers, but the only response Sting got was a gentle slap on the ass.

A few more thrusts was all it took for Sting to come, tensing and tightening as the sensation raced through him. A hot flush spread up across his chest and face, and he bit his lip hard to keep himself from making noise. Gray's hand tightened on his ass, pulling him closer, and Sting shuddered, collapsing forward against Gray's chest.

"Love you," he murmured in Gray's ear, exhaling shakily.

"Love you too," Gray replied quietly, muting his mic again for a second before nudging Sting back and giving him a heated look. "Now get your ass upstairs and get yourself ready for me."

"Fuck," Sting whispered.

Gray grinned and kissed Sting's cheek. "Yep," he said. "That's the idea."