tyler_gone | Office Hours, Monday, 1/19

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Office Hours, Monday, 1/19

Tyler was cranky when he got to work, and had debated just staying home with the phone unplugged. It would spare him students randomly trying to get in touch to either hit on him, ask to kill things, or just be very confusing.

But home would mean eventually dealing with Lindsay. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew he didn't want to see her mad.

So he came to work and spent a lot of his morning just staring at the pile of papers on his desk. He was sure something in them would make sense, eventually.

[OOC: Open office! Tony thread going NWS.]

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"The flutes can sit on the bookcase," Tyler suggested helpfully, rubbing his hands on his slacks. If Tony wanted to jump him in his office, he got to actually make a move.

"That would defeat the point of marching," Tony replied, reaching forward to grab his shirt.

"I said rehearsal," Tyler answered, as his hands slid onto Tony's thighs. "No marching."

"And what--" Tony asked, leaning down to kiss him. "--About this is practice?"

Tyler accepted the kiss eagerly, maybe too eagerly. "This feels pretty real to me," he answered, once he could breathe. "Lock the door, Tony."

"Pushy," Tony said, pushing him back to get to the door.

"And again I remind you that you like it," Tyler pointed out, with a little impatient wiggle as he waited for Tony to complete his long and arduous journey.

However did Tyler survive his time away? Knitting socks?

A turn of the lock and Tony was very calmly walking back to the desk. "You know, I don't think I've done this without it being my office."

Rolling bandages, actually. It was epic.

"I don't think I've even done it in my office," Tyler said.

No matter he'd almost never had an office before this year. That was just a detail.

"I suppose that makes it my duty to enlighten you to how fun it can be," Tony said, hand on Tyler's chest again as he went back to his spot on the desk.

"Does it?" Tyler pretended to be thinking abut that a lot harder than he really was with a hand on his chest. "Then enlighten away."

He leaned up for another kiss, as a start.

So kind of him to grant permission.

Sliding forward onto his lap, Tony kissed him back. "You're managing very well so far."

"I'm a" -- and there was some shifting to get his arms around Tony's waist -- "very quick learner."

"Mmhmm." What? Tony was busy kissing right now. Maybe he'd respond later. Or, you know, with one hand trying to unzip Tyler's fly.

Tyler braced a hand against Tony's back to draw him into another kiss. "Eager," he noted.

Not that he was pulling his fly away.

"This is usually the point where I get a business call or Pepper knocks like she knows something is going on," Tony informed him with a smirk. He pushed his hand down, into his pants.

Tyler reached out with the hand that was shaking less and knocked his phone off the hook.

"And what do you tell Pepper?" he asked, around a gasp.

Tony kissed his throat, closing his hand around Tyler and stroking up. "I stopped asking her to join in after the third time she slammed the door on me."

Tyler put his hand over Tony's tried to guide his rhythm. "And yet she kept coming back to work."

"Someone needs to keep me in line," Tony muttered, brushing his lips over Tyler's ear now. "And I pay her too well to quit on me now."

Tony only slowed his hand in response to that attempt to lead the way. Type A and all that...

That hand thing was just mean. Tyler rocked his hips back sharply, then went to kiss Tony's forehead. "Let's not talk about Pepper any more."

[OOC: NIGHT!]

"I thought you'd never ask." With that, Tony rewarded him with a speeding up of his hand and a light bite to the sot just below his ear.

Tyler sucked in his breath and started walking a finger down Tony's neck into the collar of his shirt, toying with a button.

Far be it for Tony to tell him to stop that. Instead, he just moved a little faster. Like a carrot to lead the horse along the way.

Which, upon retrospect, wasn't the best metaphor.

It was a bit unfortunate, yes, but Tyler had no complaints. His breath sped and, eyes scrunched shut, he skipped the shirt and went right for Tony's fly.

Re: Morning [1/19]

not-ironmaiden.livejournal.com - 2009-01-20 16:22 (UTC) - Expand

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