sabo wants a quickie at work with ace. requested by anon
warnings/tags: exhbitionism, polyamory negotions, d/s, bdsm
ship: maracebo
Usually Sabo's plans go like this:
Step one: think of plan
Step two: pester Ace until he agrees to participate
Step three: implement plan, regardless of participant's preparation
Unfortunately for Ace, Sabo's exhibition kink plus his inability to plan for anything beyond success often backfired. A comment that Ace was more than happy to share as Sabo drags him into the printing room near their boss' office, the one that's so rarely used because it's technically only for their boss.
"Your exhibition kink is gonna get us in trouble one of these days," he says, but he's still not fighting Sabo's grip on his wrist, and when Sabo pins him to the wall next to the printer he lets his head fall back with a moan.
"Probably," Sabo says with a laugh, and Ace rolls his eyes.
"'Probably'," he mocks, but then Sabo fastens his teeth on Ace's shoulder and Ace's voice gets dragged into a yelp. Sabo's teeth are freakin' sharp, and his kisses always leave Ace scrabbling at Sabo's shoulders, trying to hold himself up.
"Probably," injects a third voice, disapproving and stern, and panic hits Ace like a baseball bat as he meets the eyes of their fucking boss.
"Sabo," he hisses, swatting Sabo in the side, but he can only feel Sabo's grin stretch against his skin, and suddenly he has the sinking feeling that Sabo's planned this.
"Guess what I found out the other day, Ace," Sabo says, sing-song, and Ace notes the way Marco shifts subtly, his ears bright red. The panic abates, slowly, replaced by confusion and a niggling feeling.
"What," he says, suspicious. Sabo's grin widens.
"Marco hates dealing with brats. And he's into polyamory. Isn't that a fun collection of facts?"
Marco glares at Sabo's back, ears even redder, and Ace, for a moment, wishes he could muster the angle to glare too.
Then, the full implication of Sabo's words hit him.
"Oh," he says, and hears Sabo laugh.
"Yeah, dipshit. Oh."
"And I guess right now," Ace says slowly, "we are being kind of bratty. Behaving like this at work, in the boss' private work space."
"Very bratty," Sabo agrees, going for Ace's buttons with very little finesse and even less shame.
Ace looks at Marco, at their boss, at the brilliant, beautiful man that Sabo has somehow snagged for both of them, and grins like a shark.
"Maybe," Ace suggests, and Marco's shoulders jump, taking a half-step forward like Ace's words are a hook in his belly, "you should punish us."
For a moment, there's a stillness in the air, and Ace thinks they've pushed too far. Thinks, maybe, Sabo's clever tongue has tripped up someone yet again, and they may actually be three seconds away from unemployment. Then, Marco speaks, voice like velvet and silk, effortlessly soft and forcing Ace to lean in to hear, "I think I'll decide what happens next."
Sabo licks his lips, and Ace swallows his grin, more than ready to see where this goes.