Justin was sitting at a drafting table in a corner of Brian's office, pencil in hand, but his mind was very far from the project he was working on. Brian was at his desk, buried in paperwork. Brian wanted to poach one of Smith, Thomas & Daniels's best clients, so Brian was conducting research on past ad campaigns ST&D had done for the client, looking for weaknesses and brainstorming ways to overcome them. Cynthia had managed to bait Liz, Johnson's assistant, into revealing that Johnson was currently working on an ad for a new product. Brian had asked Justin to sketch a few preliminary ideas he'd had for the product. Justin had already finished the sketches Brian had requested and had even done another based on a gut feeling he'd had.

Justin told himself that he simply did not want to disturb Brian (by presenting his sketches to him), deeply engrossed in work as Brian was, and, indeed, that was true, but, more than anything, Justin just liked watching Brian work. Brian was so focused and driven. His hair was mussed from frequently running his fingers through it, and his eyes were darker than usual, chocolate with flecks of amber. Brian had also loosened his tie and unfastened the two top buttons of his shirt, Justin imagined, because Brian was frustrated. Whatever the reason, in doing so, Brian had exposed the few inches of bronze skin forming his perfectly shaped neck and the upper part of his chest. Justin couldn't help remembering their make out session in the limousine the night they'd met, when Justin had sat on Brian's lap, traced the long lines of Brian's neck, and threaded his fingers through Brian's soft chestnut hair. Justin sighed softly. Brian was so beautiful. Justin was dying to draw the man, but, even more, to strip off his clothes slowly and touch, lick, and suck on every single inch of his body. The very thought had his dick rock hard. What he wouldn't give to sit on Brian's lap once more, right now, in fact, lean close, breathing in his sweet, yet musky scent, and kiss Brian's soft, firm lips.

Unexpectedly, Brian looked up. The second Brian and Justin's eyes met, Justin glanced away, blushing deeply, his heart beating so hard he thought it might explode out of his chest. He cursed himself inwardly. Getting caught staring, no, gazing, at Brian was so embarrassing. Even though they'd kissed (and grinded) and had a date, Brian was now his boss, and he'd been sending Justin mixed messages since…since he'd first touched Justin's scar. Suddenly Justin couldn't breathe. Suddenly Brian's hesitation was starting to make sense. The scar had thrown Brian. Rather than fucking Justin, Brian had asked about the scar, about the bashing. They'd made out again the next day and had had a date the next night. After Cynthia's interruption, Brian had offered him a job, and they hadn't done anything since that second make out session. Justin's scar had caused Brian to slow down, and the job had caused Brian to stop. He still flirted, but Brian hadn't so much as given him a peck on the lips in several days, though Justin'd seen Brian on each of those days. Daphne was so right. If Justin left Brian to his own devices, their relationship or whatever would end before it had really begun. Justin's heart stopped beating, and his chest felt hollow. He couldn't let that happen. He just couldn't.

Justin peeked back up at Brian. He was still looking at him. Justin blushed more deeply, but he maintained eye contact. Justin trembled, but felt a surge of adrenaline, too. Suddenly, everything fell into place. Justin knew exactly what to do. He smiled and said, keeping his voice as relaxed as he could, "I'm going to get a cup of coffee. Do you want one?"

Brian tilted his head curiously, but then, still maintaining eye contact, nodded. When Justin passed Cynthia's desk, he noted that Cynthia was gone. He looked down at his watch. 12:03 pm. Justin smiled, and his heart skipped a beat. Cynthia was most likely at lunch. Justin held both coffee cups in his left hand, like a server, his fingers through the handles. With his right, he furtively locked the door. Then he set the mugs down. Brian had turned his attention back to his research, but looked up when Justin set Brian's mug down.

Brian muttered, "Thanks" and then looked back down.

Justin moved behind Brian and inquired softly, "You look tense. Have you hit a roadblock?"

Brian groaned. "I hate to admit it, but Johnson did a pretty good job on these ads…"

Brian paused when he felt strong, slight hands on his neck. After a moment, he continued, "I'm going to have to ratchet up my game to get this guy…" His words melted into a soft moan as Justin alternately caressed and massaged Brian's shoulders and neck. Justin drew in his breath sharply when Brian swiveled around in his chair.

Brian tilted his head and smiled. He asked in a lilting voice, "Whatcha doing, Sunshine?"

Justin froze. For a moment, he was too stunned to speak. But then he stated slowly, with a confidence he did not feel, "Just trying to boost office efficiency. Muscle tension isn't exactly conducive to creativity."

Brian smirked and nodded his head slowly. "Indeed, not."

Justin breathed, "Close your eyes."

Brian looked back at Justin, into his eyes, for a few seconds, but then, he complied. Justin caressed Brian's face, running his fingers gently across Brian's forehead and down over his cheeks and eyes. Then he moved his hands down to Brian's neck and started massaging it.

Brian said, his voice a bit husky, "That feels good."

Justin continued massaging Brian's neck for a couple of minutes, but then slipped his hands beneath Brian's shirt. He slid them over the exposed portion of Brian's chest to his shoulders and began rubbing them. Brian moaned softly. But his breath caught in his throat when Justin started unfastening the rest of the buttons on his shirt. Brian kept his eyes closed, but asked, "Whatcha doing?" His voice was light, but there was a slight quake in it. He wasn't used to giving someone else control.

Justin replied calmly, "The way you've been sitting, holding yourself, the tension in your shoulders likely radiated outward and down to your upper arms. They must ache."

Brian admitted, "Actually, they do."

When Justin had finished unbuttoning Brian's shirt, he untucked it and opened it wide. Then he moved his hands from Brian's waist upward, running his fingertips lightly over Brian's abdomen, chest, and neck. Then he slid his hands over Brian's shoulders and down to his upper arms. Justin's light touches caused Brian to shiver and his cock to harden. Justin started to massage Brian's upper arms, and, then, to both Brian and Justin's great surprise, Justin sat on Brian's lap, straddling him. Unconsciously, Brian moved his hands up to Justin's waist.

Brian opened his eyes then, looking into Justin's. They were heavy with desire. Justin was flushed and panting. To Brian's great surprise (he'd never refused a man he wanted before), Brian protested, in a husky whisper, "We can't. Anyone could walk in."

Justin breathed, "I locked the door."

Brian continued to protest. "Cynthia…" but Justin cut him off, "She's at lunch." Then Justin let his head fall onto Brian's shoulder, slid his hands back up to Brian's neck and down, lightly caressing Brian's chest and abdomen, his eyes following their movement, gazing at the contours of his body appreciatively, and whispered, his warm breath making soft puffs against Brian's neck, sending delicious shivers throughout Brian's body, "I know you want me, Brian. And I want you. More than I've ever wanted anyone else. More than I ever thought possible." Then Justin lifted his head. He was blushing, but he held his gaze steady, staring deep into Brian's eyes. Brian swallowed hard.