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When Troy woke up that morning, the first thing he was aware of was the lack of Harris by his side.
At this point in their relationship he was officially spoiled, needing the warm weight of Harris curled around him on any day he got to wake up in their Ottawa home. After getting in late last night following a two-week stint on the road he had been greatly looking forward to getting his morning cuddles again. It had been the thing he had been craving the most during his time spent in lonely hotel rooms.
Only he had no morning cuddles. He was entirely alone.
Despite how exhausted he was, the realization was enough to push him through the pull of sleep, sitting up in bed to look around the room. He was straining to hear signs that Harris was somewhere in the house, hoping he was in the bathroom and would return any moment to crawl back under their warm sheets.
When thirty seconds had passed, and he heard not a sound, Troy frowned.
“Harris?” he called out into their empty bedroom, voice still thick with sleep. With that, he finally heard signs of life; the familiar jangling of Chiron’s dog tags ringing through the house, getting closer and closer, plus the thump of familiar footsteps. When the bedroom door finally opened the sight he saw had him melting. Chiron was barrelling into the room, jumping onto the bed and demanding Troy’s attention. Harris was just behind him, smiling at him fondly from the doorway, still in the boxers and graphic t-shirt he had been asleep in. It was bright blue with the word “fruity” in pink, swirling text, surrounded by fruits in rainbow colours. One of Troy’s favourites.
“Good morning,” Harris said sweetly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He leaned over to give Troy a soft, sweet kiss that he sleepily returned.
“Good morning,” Troy mumbled back, hands moving away from Chiron to rest around Harris’ waist. “Why aren’t you in bed?” He was fighting the urge to pull Harris down to lie with him as he asked. The clock revealed it was only eight in the morning, not a ridiculously early time, but earlier than Troy wanted to be up after getting in at two thirty the night before. He was a guy who loved to sleep, and was never one to wake up earlier than he needed to. He didn’t need to be at the rink until one today, and Harris typically didn’t need to be in his office until ten.
“First day jitters,” Harris said, one of his hands ruffling through Troy’s hair. “It’s my first day in the new role, remember? I have to be at work earlier now.”
That made Troy wake up a bit more, a flash of guilt rushing through him as he looked up at Harris. In the flow of intense games and busy travel, he had completely forgotten Harris was starting his new Communications Director role today. The promotion they had celebrated with a fancy dinner the night before he left on his trip.
“Fuck, sorry, I completely forgot,” Troy said, feeling himself blush. Harris, of course, just giggled, not a hint of anger on his face. He had switched from petting Troy’s head to petting Chiron, who was curled up by Troy’s side.
“It’s okay,” Harris said softly, smiling down at him. “You got in super late last night, bud. I know the days blend together when you travel.”
“Still…” Troy insisted, fighting not to yawn. “Let me get up. I should make you breakfast.” Troy was moving, trying to sit up fully, but a hand on his arm stopped him. Harris was shaking his head.
“I already ate,” Harris said, one of his thumbs rubbing back and forth on Troy’s bicep. “I was up super early. Seriously, Troy, don’t worry. You should go back to bed, you haven’t slept that long.”
The guilt was still rolling in Troy’s stomach as he looked up at his boyfriend. Torn between the need to do something for Harris before his big day and the pull of sleep that he was actively fighting against.
“Are you sure?” Troy said, stifling another yawn, his body not cooperating with his need to be awake. “I can seriously get up, drive you in…”
“I’m a big boy, Troy, I can take myself to work,” Harris teased, squeezing the hand that was still resting on his arm. “I’m going to get dressed super quick, then head out. I want to give myself some time to find my new office before my first meeting of the day.”
“You sure?” Troy asked again, still unable to shake the guilt. “I feel like I should do something for your first day.”
“Bring me a coffee,” Harris offered, leaning down to peck him again. “And a sweet treat. You know what I like.”
“Hmm, I do,” Troy murmured, some of the guilt finally melting away, warmth spreading in his chest from the way Harris was looking at him. Then he was fighting off another yawn, which made Harris laugh.
“Go back to sleep.” Harris stood up, dropping a gentle kiss to his forehead as he did. “Get a few more hours in. You can come see me in my new office later.”
“Okay,” Troy said, his body more than ready to go back to sleep, sinking into the pillows with Chiron. “Miss your cuddles, though,” he mumbled.
“Mmm me too,” Harris said, his hand running gently through his hair again. “Don’t worry, we’ll cuddle tonight.”
Troy tried to mumble a “yes, please” in reply, but the combination of Harris’ touch, his comfortable bed, and Chiron’s weight on his side had his eyes fluttering closed, sleep taking him once again.
Troy woke up two hours later, significantly more rested. He let himself take it easy, stumbling into the kitchen and happily eating the overnight oats and cut-up fruit Harris had left for him in the fridge.
His boyfriend really did take the best care of him. The sight of the prepared breakfast made the lingering guilt from that morning rear up once again. He knew he had to do something to make up for his morning blunder in return, still annoyed with himself for forgetting that Harris had such a big day today. Getting him a coffee and a sweet treat would be the bare minimum.
He’d have to find something else to do, too. He decided that he’d work to clean the house up when he got home from practice and make a nice home-cooked meal for them to enjoy. Maybe stop and get flowers on the way home, if he had time. He was already smiling just thinking about it, knowing how much Harris loved it when he bought him flowers.
After breakfast, Troy got himself showered, dressed, and let Chiron out in the backyard for a bit. Then he was off, leaving with enough time to stop at their favourite local coffee shop, the one they frequented on weekends after trips to the dog park. Soon enough, he was walking into the arena building with a tray of coffee (black for him, an iced caramel latte for Harris) and two different cake pops, ready to see Harris in action on his first day.
At first, Troy mistakenly went to Harris’ old office, getting off the elevator and walking his usual route before he remembered Harris’ text reminding him he was now on the top floor. He got back into the elevator quickly, taking it up higher than he ever had before, surprised by what he saw when he got there.
This was nothing like the floor Harris’ old office had been on, where he had a small space tucked between supply closets and media rooms. The top floor was meant for executives and it showed, all glass windows and grey paint with people walking around in suits and dresses. Troy felt entirely out of place in his pre-practice sweats and Centaur’s long sleeve, carrying a gym bag and coffee shop goods. He did his best to avoid eye contact with the curious executives as he made his way to the reception desk. There was a young girl there who looked up at him with wide eyes when he approached.
“Hey,” Troy said, a little too eager, clearing his throat. “I’m, uh, looking for Harris. Harris Drover?”
“Do you have a meeting?” she asked, blinking up at him. Troy did his best not to look nervous, swallowing.
“Uh, no…” he trailed off. “I’m his boyfriend. I brought him coffee?” He couldn’t help but wince, but his awkward attitude at least made her take pity on him.
“I know who you are,” she said with a small smile, which made him feel a bit better. “He did mention you would be here. Let me take you to his office.” With that, she was standing up and leading the way. Troy followed behind her, walking past glass meeting rooms and closed offices as he went, keeping his head down until they reached the end of the hallway. She knocked on the door before opening it, standing out of the way so Troy could walk inside.
“Mister Drover is in a meeting that’s just wrapping up,” she said kindly, still standing in the doorway. “He should be here any minute.” With that, she left, leaving Troy alone in the empty room.
Troy looked around with wide eyes, a little taken aback. Harris’ old office had been a tiny room with no windows, covered in posters and knick-knacks. This new office was a big open space with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered an impressive view of the surrounding city and suburbs. There was enough room for a couch and coffee table, plus a big wooden desk with empty bookshelves behind it. A box sat on top of it, filled with familiar items from his old office: a potted plant, desk organizers, a few binders. A little pride flag was sticking out of the top that made Troy smile.
It was clear just from looking around the room that Harris had moved up to the big leagues. This was the office of someone important, not that Harris was unimportant before. Still, Troy couldn’t help the feeling of pride bubbling up in his chest as he looked around, happy to see Harris being rewarded for his efforts, an integral part of the organization who had been rightfully promoted within it.
Troy was just placing the tray of coffee and food on the desk, shrugging his bag off his shoulder, when he heard the door behind him open. He turned around, ready to greet his boyfriend, only to feel his brain short-circuit the second he laid eyes on him.
The last time he had seen Harris, he had been standing in their bedroom in his boxers and a graphic t-shirt. A shirt not so dissimilar to the kinds Harris usually wore to work, only in public, they were often paired with pants and a sweater, maybe a jean jacket.
Right now, Harris was dressed in a suit.
And he looked really, really good.
Troy had only seen Harris in a suit once before, at Shane and Ilya’s wedding. It had been truly Harris in nature, a thrifted pink linen suit, slightly oversized, that he had paired with a ridiculous patterned bow tie that Troy hadn’t been able to resist touching the whole night. He had even paired the ensemble with a pair of glittery dress shoes, telling Troy there was no better occasion than a gay wedding to do so, which had made Troy laugh and smile so wide his face hurt. Harris had looked amazing that night, but in his usual, quirky, colourful way.
This suit, however, was something different.
It was navy blue cotton, perfectly tailored and pressed, accenting the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders. It was paired with a crisp white shirt, a burgundy tie knotted at his throat, and some expensive-looking dress shoes Troy had never seen before. He even had cufflinks on, silver circles with shiny diamond-looking stones in the middle that shone in the light.
He looked incredible. Handsome and sharp, professional and put together in a way that Troy had never seen him before. The whole thing had his heart beating a little faster in his chest, sweat forming on his brow. He couldn’t help but fixate on the tie specifically, a sudden fantasy overtaking him, an image of Harris taking it off, standing over Troy looking as broad and impressive as he did right now, before using it to tie up Troy’s hands...
“Babe, you’re here!” Harris said happily, crossing the room to sidle up to Troy’s side. Troy blinked the fantasy away, unable to speak as he attempted to find his cool again. Thankfully, Harris was too distracted by the food on his desk to notice his floundering.
“Damn, I needed this,” Harris said, taking a sip of the iced latte, the little moan he let out doing nothing to help Troy’s predicament, making his stomach tighten. “That early morning is really starting to hit now. Thank you for saving me.”
“You’re, uh, welcome,” Troy finally spoke, voice cracking. Harris was looking at him suspiciously now, likely clocking the blush that had filled Troy’s face.
“You okay?” Harris asked, because of course he did, taking another sip. Troy just nodded, eyes still roaming the expanse of Harris’ chest in his fancy new suit, resisting the urge to reach out and grab him by the lapels.
“I’m fine,” Troy said, trying to keep his voice level. “How’s the morning been?”
“It’s been good! Super busy, maybe a little intense.” Harris was speaking in the fast, happy way he always did, moving around Troy to sit in his desk chair. He unbuttoned his suit jacket with one hand as he did, something about the ease of it making Troy’s mouth water. “I met all the other directors just now, which was what I was most nervous about. Thankfully, they all seem nice. Plus, they're catering our lunch meeting from Flanagan’s, can you believe? It’s the nicest restaurant in town. If it’s as good as people say, we’ll have to go try it in-person together. I always thought it could be a good spot for a date night…”
Harris continued to ramble on, talking about the restaurant and the menu. Troy felt entirely unable to respond as he watched him, the creeping heat in his gut being made worse by the sight of Harris sitting behind his desk, elbows braced on the table, shuffling his papers around as he spoke.
He looked good. Too good. Like some kind of big boss executive with a brain way bigger than his, the most important guy in the room. The fantasy wasn’t that far from the truth, making Troy feel way more turned on than he should be in their place of work.
“Troy?” Harris’ tone finally pulled Troy from his thoughts, looking up to see Harris staring at him, head cocked to the side. “You okay? I can tell you’re not listening.”
“Sorry,” Troy began, the bad boyfriend guilt creeping in as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Just, uh, lost in thought…”
Harris raised an eyebrow at that. He didn’t look entirely convinced by his words and had opened his mouth to say something back when a knock at the door interrupted them.
“Harris, there you are!” A voice said from the doorway, a woman in a black pant suit was walking into the room. She paused when she saw Troy, eyes going wide. “Oh wow, Troy Barret! Sorry to interrupt. I never thought I’d see you up here.”
“Never thought I’d be up here,” Troy tried to joke, instantly realizing how it could come off as rude and blushing. “I mean, uh, nice to meet you. I’m Troy. Which you know.” He stuck out his hand, which the woman shook happily, unperturbed by his awkwardness.
“I’m Annalise Jones, Vice President of Marketing and Communications.” Her title instantly made Troy nervous, realizing this was likely Harris’ boss. “I came to discuss something with Harris before our next meeting, but there’s no rush. Let me give you two some time.”
“You sure, Annalise?” Harris asked from his desk. She turned to look at Harris, smiling.
“Of course,” she said kindly. “I know you just got out of that meet and greet. Take a little more time to recover.”
Harris laughed politely at that, standing up from his desk, buttoning his suit with one hand as he did. The sight made Troy a different kind of nervous. He did his best to school his face as Harris walked closer, standing tall next to his new boss, the pair of them an impressive picture in their suits.
Troy had never felt more hyperaware of the fact that he was wearing sweats.
“I’ll come by shortly. Give me ten?” Harris asked. Now that he was closer, Troy noticed for the first time that morning that Harris had cleaned up his facial hair, too. It looked clean and defined, perfectly trimmed. Troy wanted to reach out a touch, wanted to trace the curve of it with his hands, with his lips. He was still fixating on the sharp line of it when Annalise spoke again, spooking him out of his staring.
“Of course. I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, she turned back to Troy, smiling again. “It was nice to meet you, Mister Barrett. I’m sure we’ll see more of you up here.” Troy didn’t know what to say to that, his brain still mush, giving her an awkward little nod instead of using his words. He noticed the odd look Harris was giving him, likely confused by his silence. Thankfully, Annalise didn’t seem to notice Troy’s strange behaviour, giving him a polite nod back as she exited the room.
Troy let out a breath once she did.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Harris asked the second they were alone, the question making Troy’s heart jump in his chest. “You’re acting strange…” He moved to stand in front of Troy, searching his face. There was something concerned in his expression. Troy was fighting not to meet his eyes, knowing Harris would figure him out the second he did. He was too perceptive for his own good.
“I’m fine,” Troy managed to squeak out again, though even he could tell his voice was nervous. His tone made Harris look even more concerned, crossing his arms.
And fuck, if that didn’t make things worse. The stance made Harris look even broader, something about the calculating look in his eye a little thrilling. Troy was enjoying being pinned under his gaze a little too much; the contrast between Harris, all professional and suited up, and Troy in his workout gear made him feel inferior in the best way. All he could think about was how he wanted to get on his knees and let Harris act every part of the boss he looked like.
A thought he had to keep inside, given the fact that they were at work.
This suit was really starting to get to him.
“What are you looking at?” Harris asked, snapping Troy out of his wandering thoughts. He had an eyebrow raised, expression still serious.
“Where’d you get this suit?” Troy couldn’t help but blurt out, his traitorous mind unable to filter the question away. He tried to backpedal when he saw the look of surprise on Harris’ face. “It’s just, uh, I’ve never seen you wear a suit like this before.”
“Oh,” Harris said softly. It was his turn to blush now, looking slightly nervous. “I got a few while you were away. Annalise mentioned in the interviews that it was business professional up here and figured the one linen suit wouldn’t cut it if I had to wear them every day.” He stepped back slightly, looking self-conscious as he uncrossed his arms. “Why do I look okay? I know it’s not my usual look. Ilya recommended the tailor to me, but I’m definitely not used to wearing stuff so fitted-“
“You look good.” Troy cut him off, eyes trailing Harris’ form again, voice coming out way deeper than he meant to. That look of curiosity was back on Harris’ face now, only now there was something a little intense underneath it. That intensity, combined with the suit, had Troy shifting from foot to foot, feeling nervous under his boyfriend's gaze
He wanted to kiss him so bad. In that moment, he yearned for Harris’ old office, with its private, windowless walls.
“You know, I-“ Harris was interrupted by a knock at the door, breaking the tension.
“Excuse me?” A timid voice said. A young girl had entered the room, also in a pant suit, a laptop clutched to her chest. Her entry made the two men jump away from each other, the tension that had been growing now breaking. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need some help with the KPI tracker. I think one of the interns might have broken an Excel formula.”
“No worries at all Elena; happy to help,” Harris said coolly, walking over to his desk, a gesture of his hand prompting the girl to follow. She went obediently, sparing Troy a nervous glance as she did.
“Now, let’s see what I can do here...” Harris murmured, opening the computer on his desk as the girl, Elena, sat in the chair on the other side. Troy watched in silence as Harris started typing on his keyboard, a look of intense concentration on his face.
Once again, Troy was having inappropriate workplace thoughts, watching his boyfriend look all smart and competent behind his desk.
“Aha! Culprit spotted. Someone accidentally deleted an XLOOKUP formula here, which threw the sheet off.” Troy watched Harris do some more typing before looking back up at Elena. Troy was torn between drooling over the look of confidence on his face and wondering what the hell an XLOOKUP formula was.
“Phew! Thanks for fixing it, Mister Drover,” she said, looking much more relieved, eyes scanning her own laptop screen. Harris just smiled, giving her a polite nod. Meanwhile, Troy’s brain was turning to mush again, the phrase “Mister Drover” on repeat in his thoughts. He wondered how it would make him feel to call Harris that. To be the one sitting across from his desk, latched onto his every word.
He was so fucked.
“By the way, I should have some PR roundups ready for your review in the next hour,” Elena continued, counting to speak while Troy stood in the corner, fighting his own thoughts. “I’ll send the KPI report too. I just want to review one more time now that the sheet is fixed before I do.”
“Thank you. Can you get me the social plan today as well? Before my meeting at three?” Harris said coolly, looking back at his screen as he asked. “I need to get it to the VPs by EOD. Once I get the approval, you can schedule.”
“Of course, sir,” Elena said, standing up. Something about the use of "sir" was even worse than Mister Drover. Especially paired with the cool, confident demeanour Harris was giving off from behind his desk. It was making Troy’s stomach twist, hyper aware that Harris really was the boss in this room.
“Thank you, Elena,” Harris said, offering a little wave as the girl scurried out of the room. He looked back at his computer screen once she was gone, the room entering a minute of silence in which Troy started fantasizing once again. Wondering what it would be like to add “yes, sir” to his own repertoire. If Harris would like it. If Harris would praise him for saying it, the way Troy was starting to crave.
He only stopped thinking about it when he noticed Harris had stopped typing. Now he was looking up at Troy, something sheepish on his face.
“Shit, sorry, distracted by the inbox,” Harris said, getting up again. “It’s crazy how many people need me for things, considering it’s my first day.”
“It’s okay,” Troy said softly, once again distracted by the suit as Harris walked over. “You’re a big, important executive now, I get it.”
Something about that made Harris giggle, rolling his eyes. He looked like he wanted to debate that, but the buzz of his phone interrupted him. He pulled it out of his pocket to look down at the screen, then back up at Troy. “Shit, that’s the new intern, needing my help. I should probably go find him, then finally meet up with Annalise.” Harris sighed a bit at that, frowning. “I’m sorry I’m so busy now. Being the boss really leaves no room for fun.”
“It’s okay,” Troy said again, wrapping his arms around Harris to pull him into a hug. He hoped it would work to wipe the frown off his face. It also helped to ensure Harris wouldn’t see the blush that statement put on his face, how the reminder that Harris was the boss made his butterflies even worse. “Go help your team, then enjoy your expensive lunch. I hope you can order a steak.”
That made Harris laugh out loud against the wall of Troy’s chest.
“I wish you could come too,” Harris lamented, looking up at him. “I’ll come find you during practice if I can, okay? Otherwise, I’ll see ya at home.” Then he leaned in for a kiss, more wanting and intense than Troy was expecting, hands resting on Troy’s chest. Troy moved one of his own hands to rest on Harris’ waist, feeling the suit's thick fabric beneath his palm, his heart stuttering when he realized this was the first time he was actually touching it. Just when Troy was ready to take it a bit farther, fantasizing about grabbing the lapels, Harris pulled back. He gave Troy a cheeky smile before stuttering out a goodbye, striding out of the room.
Troy was left alone, half hard in Harris' office, unable to get the picture of him in his suit out of his head. He wondered if he’d ever manage to look at his boyfriend at work again without his heart pounding out of his chest.
After his visit to Harris’ office, Troy was, obviously, a little distracted. Stumbling through practice, missing easy passes and calls as his mind continued drifting to inappropriate places.
He just couldn’t stop thinking about Harris. Couldn’t stop mulling over the fantasies his new look was putting in his head, so different from their usual dynamic.
Typically, when it came to the pair of them, Troy was the more dominant one. Harris had opened up to him multiple times about how a lifetime of being handled with care, largely due to his health, had led to people treating him gently. He had asked Troy many times not to act the same, to get a little rough with him, to not treat him like something that would break. That admission had led to some unbelievably mind-blowing sex, where Troy was typically the one in the more dominant position, plowing a submissive Harris into the mattress.
Of course, their roles weren’t super strict. The pair of them did like to switch it up, both of them enjoying topping and bottoming. Harris had taken control in the past, leaving Troy staring starry-eyed up at him while he was the one getting fucked. Still, it wasn’t their usual. And Troy didn’t have a problem with it; he loved getting to be Harris’ big, strong boyfriend who could toss him around in bed and give it to him the way he deserved.
But sometimes, Troy wanted to be the one who was bossed around. And something about the suit, the way Harris looked today, was really waking up that side of him. Making his brain unleash new fantasies he had never let himself consider before.
The well-fitted suit made Harris look broad and big. Powerful and in control. It made Troy want to let Harris take over. To make Troy a mess while he remained put together. To give Troy tasks and commands, so he could be submissive in a way he typically didn’t let himself. It was a little embarrassing how turned on that idea was making him. How just the sight of some well-tailored fabric and some cuff links had Troy ready to get on his knees and say “yes, sir” to his boyfriend.
What would Harris say if he asked him to play out this kind of fantasy? To keep the suit on when he got home from work? To take control? To treat Troy like he was inferior, because Harris was the boss?
“Barrett!” A voice suddenly rang out, Troy’s head snapping up. He was still on the ice for practice and was supposed to be focused on plays rather than overthinking his own desires. He could tell he was blushing bright red, withering under Ilya’s unimpressed look.
“What is up with you?” Ilya questioned, tapping his stick against the ice. “You miss every pass. Are you okay?”
That question made Troy blush even more. He had been asked this many times today and had no good answer. He opened his mouth to speak, was ready to once again brush it off as him just being tired, when a chorus of voices and wolf whistles drew both his and Ilya’s attention to the benches.
“That’s a nice suit!”
“Looking good, Drover!”
“Damn, what’s the occasion?”
Harris’ booming laugh was loud enough to be heard across the ice. Troy watched with wide eyes as his boyfriend came strutting out of the tunnel with a pleased smile on his face, still suited up and looking way too good. It was enough to get his heart racing once again, way more affected than he should be.
“Harris!” Ilya was abandoning his interrogation of Troy to skate closer to the bench. Troy followed, noticing that Shane, who was also on the ice, wasn’t far behind.
“Hey, Ilya,” Harris greeted happily as the group approached.
“Look at you, Mister Professional,” Ilya said. Troy watched him look his boyfriend up and down, something satisfied in his expression. “Very nice. I told you my tailor was good.”
Troy silently agreed. Ilya’s tailor was good. Troy should honestly send Ilya a gift basket or something for his life-changing work.
“I’ve never seen you look so formal,” Shane added from behind him, looking Harris over too. “It suits you.”
That made Troy’s stomach tighten in a different way. A flare of unfounded, unnecessary jealousy that he couldn’t tamp down, suddenly aware of just how many eyes were on his sexy, suited boyfriend. Harris was blushing under so much attention, the abashed look on his face making Troy’s stomach flip.
“Thanks, Shane,” Harris said softly.
“How come you never dressed like this before?” Bood asked from the bench, crossing his arms.
“You guys weren’t worth the effort,” Harris teased with a shrug, to a chorus of playful jeers. “I’m just teasing. This definitely isn’t my usual, but it’s the dress code upstairs. I can’t wait to take the tie off, to be honest.” With that, Harris started fiddling with it, loosening it just slightly at the base of his neck. Something about the gesture was making Troy flustered once more, blinking and looking away, trying to control himself.
Of course, his avoidant eyes landed on Ilya instead, who was looking at him with a shit-eating grin.
“Keep it on, Drover,” Ilya said, looking between Troy and Harris. “It completes the look. Makes you look… distinguished.
“Wow, big word,” Shane teased quietly, Ilya smiling wider.
“Is true. Am I wrong, Barrett?” Ilya kept going, looking Troy right in the eye now. “He looks very distinguished, yes?”
“He… does.” Troy let out testily, words once again way too stilted and awkward as his eyes trailed Harris’ form. “Very distinguished.”
He looked distinguished, alright. And handsome. And hot. And sexy. He had to force himself to look away again, choosing to look down at the ice instead. Thankfully, the team kept talking around him, Hayes now pestering Harris for all the details on the new role. Ilya skated closer to Troy as the team dissolved into conversation, leaning close to his ear.
“I see your problem now…” Ilya murmured, the words making Troy snap his eyes to him. “Harris is sexy in his suit. Makes him look big and strong. A total bear, yes? Or is daddy more accurate?”
“Please stop,” Troy begged, already knowing those had to be terms Harris had taught him. Ilya just laughed out loud, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
“You are staring like he is something to eat,” Ilya continued, the two of them watching as Harris talked animatedly with the team. “Be gentle tonight, Barrett. The suits are expensive… Or maybe Harris is the one needing to be gentle with you?”
“Ilya, quit it.” That was Shane, who had come closer to the pair of them, crossing his arms.
“What?” Ilya said innocently, finally taking his hand off Troy’s shoulder. “Is fun to ruffle Barrett's feathers. Who would have thought he would have suit kink?”
And oh god, did he? Today it certainly felt like it. Shane’s eyes narrowed at Ilya as he said it.
“I could always embarrass you by wearing my glasses to work,” Shane teased, skating closer to his husband. “I bet it would make you ten times more flustered.”
“Would not,” Ilya argued, looking offended, the two of them now dissolving into their usual loving bickering. Troy elected to phase them out, eyes finding Harris again, who had finally looked away from the group he was talking to. When their eyes met, it sent an actual jolt through Troy’s system, stomach twisting in a delicious feeling of want.
His mind was spinning once again. He wondered if his desire for Harris really was as obvious as Ilya was making it seem. Because damn, did Troy want him. He wanted nothing more than to abandon practice, strip off his gear, and get his hands on Harris’ suit. Maybe when they got home, and he finally admitted that the suit had him tongue-tied all day, Harris would take pity on him. Run a hand through Troy’s hair before pulling him close, hopefully right into the crotch of his well-fitted pants-
A sharp blow of a whistle stopped his fantasy before he could get ahead.
“Alright, we still got ice time left! Enough socializing.” That was Wiebe, coming out of the tunnel, taking in the fact that practice had basically stopped. The other Centaurs were muttering their apologies, Shane and Ilya already moving back to center ice, when he watched Wiebe’s eyes find Harris.
“Drover, we’ve missed you! I heard today was your first day upstairs. Congratulations.” His eyes scanned Harris up and down, an impressed look on his face. “That’s a great suit, by the way. Where did you get that tailored?”
“Thank you, Coach. Ilya sent me to his guy,” Harris said, eyes flicking between Troy and the coach. “It’s custom-made. New look for the new job.”
“It’s great,” Wiebe said, still looking him up and down. “Is the dress shirt custom too?”
“Oh yeah, let me show you!” Harris said, moving to unbutton his jacket, the sight already making Troy’s mouth water.
“Barrett!” Ilya’s voice rang across the ice once more, Troy turning to look at him. “No more staring at Harris. Is practice time, yes?”
Troy blushed at that, skating away, too embarrassed to see if Harris had heard that comment.
Troy still felt all out of sorts by the time he got home.
He hadn’t gotten any better during practice; his blundering was something Ilya spent more time teasing him about than criticizing him for, which somehow made it worse. He just couldn’t seem to get his thoughts under control, unable to resist looking at the sidelines while Harris chatted amicably with Coach Weibe before strutting off, likely going back to work.
Troy got home before Harris, of course, and decided he would tidy up and get started on the dinner he wanted to surprise his boyfriend with. He had hoped the menial tasks might help him relax, but something about the domesticity of it, cleaning and cooking dinner for his man who was hard at work, was riling him up more than it should. He still didn’t get why this affected him so much, how one day of Harris in a suit seemed to wake up a million different fantasies.
All he knew was that he felt something warm twist in his gut when he put the homemade lasagna in the oven. Felt the tension building as he put the flowers he had picked up on the way home in a vase. Was half hard the entire time he showered, taking extra care to clean himself, just in case he was able to brave acting out some of the depraved thoughts that had been rolling around his skull.
When he heard the front door unlock, he perked up even faster than Chiron did, the two of them racing to get to the door. The Harris that walked in had Troy pausing in his tracks once again.
Troy had been bracing himself for the sight of Harris all buttoned up and professional, like he had been this morning. Instead, he looked even more tempting. His suit jacket was hanging over his arm, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, the tie loosened just enough to reveal the base of his throat. He didn’t think the sight of Harris in his suit could get even better, but something about him now being a little rumpled and relaxed in the formal wear was even worse. Troy’s mouth was dry as Harris made his way inside, cooing over Chiron and giving him plenty of pets before finally smiling up at Troy.
“Hey, handsome,” Harris said happily, leaning up to kiss him. Troy kissed him back, doing his best to hold back the pathetic little noise he nearly let out at the contact. Harris pulled away too soon, making his way to the living room. Troy followed after him obediently, just like Chiron did.
“Wait, are those for me?” Harris asked, pausing on his walk to the living room to look at the flowers on the counter. Troy nodded, flushing lightly.
“Happy first day,” he said as an explanation, loving the way Harris was smiling. “Lasagna is ready in the oven, by the way.”
“God, you’re perfect. Thanks, babe.” Harris walked close to kiss Troy again. Troy really couldn’t help but let a sound out now, a soft little groan as his heart stuttered in his chest. Harris drew the kisses out the way Troy wished they could have in his office, the two of them nearly entering make-out territory before he pulled away with a final soft peck. Then he was moving to the living room, leaving Troy half-hard and staring after him.
“How was the rest of practice?” Harris asked, tossing the jacket down across the back of the couch and sitting down. His legs immediately spread, the wide expanse of his thighs taking up the cushions emphasizing the thickness of his legs, the soft bulge between them. He loosened his tie even more, looking delicious as he relaxed back and stared up at Troy.
Troy was staring back, dumbfounded and unable to speak, going from half-hard to fully hard embarrassingly fast.
“Troy?” Harris prompted, voice light. Troy blinked, shaking his head.
“Sorry, what?”
“How was the rest of practice?” Harris asked again, shifting against the couch, legs spreading just a bit more. Troy’s gaze snapped right to them, unable to resist staring at his thighs before letting his eyes drag up the length of his body. He just looked so good, sitting there, all thick and manly and handsome. A man who had finished a long day of work, who deserved the chance to relax…
“Troy?” Harris said again, and Troy looked up again. He was fully blushing now, especially when he noticed the smirk on Harris’ face.
“Y-yeah?” Troy said, his throat suddenly very dry. Harris giggled, then looked Troy up and down.
“Come closer,” Harris said gently. Troy followed the command quickly, crossing the room. Not wanting to ignore his instincts, he decided to kneel next to the couch, right by Harris’ legs. Harris made a little sound at that, a delighted smile on his face.
“I knew it,” Harris breathed, his eyes meeting Troy’s. “You’re in a mood.”
“I… yeah,” Troy admitted, realizing there was no point in lying. His eyes were trailing Harris' form once more, lingering on the tie, ignoring the urge to reach out and touch. When he looked back up at Harris’ face, he had narrowed his eyes, looking thoughtful.
“You like the suit.” Harris said it like a statement of fact. Like the truth, that it was.
“I love the suit,” Troy said, unashamed now that it was just the two of them. He had already been more than obvious today. Plus, Harris may be the kind to tease, but he was never one to judge. He would probably let Troy indulge in his fantasies if they were on the same page. And judging by the look Harris was giving him, that seemed likely.
“You’ve been looking at me all day,” Harris said, words measured and sure. He lifted a hand to run through Troy’s hair, a touch he melted under. “Staring. Blushing. Even in my office, in front of my boss. In front of the team, too.”
That made a wave of heat move through Troy, the twinge of embarrassment that somehow worked to turn him on. He had been pathetic today, if he was being honest. But he didn’t mind. He would be pathetic for this man if it meant getting more of his attention.
“I couldn’t help it,” Troy said softly, leaning his head against Harris' knee. Thrilling at the way it made his breath hitch, finally showing he was affected too. “You look so good, Harris.”
“Really?” Harris asked, the question genuine. Troy nodded.
“Yeah,” he croaked, nuzzling his face into the fabric, watching Harris grow harder beneath it. Heart stuttering as he finally got to chase the impulses he’d been avoiding all day. “You look so… sexy. Put together and professional, like the boss you are.”
Harris flushed at that. There was a calculating look on his face as he looked over Troy. The hand in his hair suddenly stilled.
“I look like a boss, eh?” Harris emphasized the word. Troy knew what he was being asked, the implication in Harris’ tone making his face warm.
“A total boss,” Troy agreed. “Confident. Sexy. In control.” Harris' breath hitched again, removing the hand from Troy’s hair.
“And you like that?” Harris kept going, voice hypnotizing. “Me being the boss?”
“I do,” Troy said, voice close to a whisper. The tension in the room was palpable now, something hot and heavy growing between them. Troy couldn’t look away, eyes locked on Harris, whose eyes were more intense.
“Is that what you want me to be tonight?” Harris finally asked, eyeing him intently. “The boss?”
Troy’s mouth felt dry. It was exactly what he wanted, exactly what he had been hoping for all day. He tried to nod in agreement, but Harris tsked, shaking his head.
“If you want it, ask for it,” Harris said, voice low and deep. Troy groaned a little, stomach swooping, dick twitching between his legs. The moment was finally here. He was finally going to get to live out his fantasies, to get what he had been craving.
All he had to do was say it.
“I want you to be the boss,” Troy said, voice rough, blinking up at him. “Please, Harris?”
Troy expected Harris to look a little flustered at that, maybe blush a little, stutter, and show a hint of nerves. Instead, he looked entirely too cool and in control as he started Troy down, eyes dark and hungry. Then he was nodding
“I want you to turn the oven off so the food doesn’t burn,” Harris said, voice still deep. Troy felt his heart start to race, knowing what it meant if Harris wanted more time. “And then I want you to meet me in the bedroom. Okay?”
Troy nodded, at a loss for words. The hand in Troy’s hair moved, sliding down to cup his face, Harris tilting his chin up.
“Good boy,” he breathed, the words making Troy’s breath hitch. “I’ll see you there.” With that, both men moved to stand, Harris striding off towards their room, taking the suit jacket with him. Troy swallowed, stumbling to the kitchen, switching the oven off, hoping the residual heat would keep it okay until they were finally ready. Then he was moving back toward the room, the door slightly ajar.
When he walked inside, closing the door behind him so Chiron wouldn’t wander in, Harris was standing by the bed with his arms crossed. He had put the suit jacket back on, but it was unbuttoned, and his tie was still loose. Troy felt his stomach tighten at the sight, walking closer.
Harris put a hand up to stop him before he could wrap his arms around him.
“On your knees,” Harris said simply, looking at Troy, daring. Troy had to resist the urge to moan as he obeyed, falling to the floor with a thud, looking up at Harris the way he had been craving all day. He looked even better from this angle, tall and broad and domineering.
“Good boy,” Harris breathed immediately.
“T-thanks,” Troy said before he could help himself, warming under the praise. Harris looked at Troy like he was contemplating something once he did, something about it making Troy squirm.
“Thanks, what?” Harris prompted, tilting his head. For a second, Troy was confused, unsure what Harris meant. When it dawned on him, he felt his stomach drop.
“Thank you, sir?” Troy said it like a question, praying he was right. The smile Harris gave him showed him he was.
“That’s right,” Harris said softly, looking down at him. “I’m sir tonight. Okay?” Harris was checking in. Making sure they were on the same page. Troy loved him for it, loved it so much he was shaking now, where he was kneeling beneath him.
“Yes, sir,” Troy said, the words coming more easily now, sending a rush through him. It was as good as he had thought it would be. Harris seemed to enjoy it too, looked a little flushed and squirmy himself, before he schooled his face. Now, instead of looking at Troy with his lovey bedroom eyes, he had a look of confident control. A moment of silence passed, the tension thick as Harris looked down at him.
“I want you to suck me off,” Harris finally spoke, the words blunt. Troy moaned out loud at that, reaching up his hands to rest on Harris’ thighs. Harris twitched a bit under his touch but otherwise kept his face neutral, still looking down at him. “Undo my pants, Troy.”
Troy did so obediently, reaching up to unbuckle the belt, tossing it to the side. Then he moved to undo his pants. He couldn’t resist leaning his face into the fabric of his crotch, moaning out loud again when he felt the heat of Harris against his face, his hard dick straining the suit fabric, firm against his cheek. Harris squirmed but stayed unusually quiet, a hand winding into Troy’s hair the only sign he was affected.
“God, you want it that bad, huh?” Harris said, something awed in his voice. Troy nodded, swallowing.
“Been thinking about this all day,” Troy admitted, finally moving to undo his fly, pulling the pants down Harris’ legs. Surprised when they revealed plain black boxers, the lack of his usual patterned underwear only adding to the fantasy. He leaned in to nuzzle against it once again, breathing in the scent of him, revelling in it.
“Troy,” Harris said breathily, hands moving to rest on his shoulders. “You’re so eager…”
Troy flushed at his words. In the back of his mind, Troy was aware that what he was doing was maybe a little desperate. A little slutty. He simply couldn’t bring himself to care. Especially when Harris finally let out a groan as he licked him through the fabric, his dick twitching against Troy’s face.
“No more teasing,” Harris urged, voice stern. “I said I want your mouth.” The hand in his hair was gripping a little tighter, pulling him back. That made Troy keen, eyes watering, looking blearily up at Harris. Things were starting to get a little fuzzy in a good way, feeling lost under Harris’ tight hold, under the weight of his gaze.
His intense staring broke only slightly when they met each other’s eyes.
“You good?” Harris asked gently, another break from the facade, checking in. Troy nodded, smiling, aware he was maybe a little far gone considering they’d done nothing yet.
“Y-yes,” Troy said, the fog clearing. Feeling a little soft when he watched the tension in Harris’ shoulders drop. “Let me suck you. Please?”
“Do it,” Harris urged, snapping right back into character, pushing Troy’s face closer. “Suck me off, Troy. Show me how bad you want it.”
Troy moaned out loud again, quickly sliding the fabric of his boxers down, revealing Harris’ dick to the room. When he finally got his lips around Harris he felt something right click into place, the syrupy feeling returning. He loved doing this, always enjoyed the heat of him like this, the taste of him, so intense and close. The way he perfectly filled Troy’s mouth, his tongue easily lapping at his skin, flicking on the underside of his head the way he knew Harris liked.
Harris was panting now, groaning, head thrown back. The sight of him losing it, all dressed up in his suit, was making Troy impossibly hard, almost painfully so. He looked amazing, standing over Troy, something about it making Troy feel small in a good way.
“Fuck, Troy, baby,” Harris gasped, the hand in his hair tugging again. Troy moaned around Harris in his mouth, the sounds he was making causing Harris to moan back. Troy could feel some of his spit starting to leak out of his mouth now, messily coating his chin, making the slide of Harris in and out even easier. It made him feel dirty, stomach flipping as he blinked back up at Harris, who still looked put together in his jacket and tie. It made him work a little harder, bob his head a little faster, adding a bit more pressure with his tongue.
“You feel so good,” Harris gasped, voice shaky, a crack in his facade. “Such a good boy.” Troy melted under the praise, the hands braced around Harris’ thighs tightening. He didn’t want the words to stop, craving more. He kept going, not stopping his movements, praying it would draw more praise out of him.
“You like sucking me off?” Harris continued, as if he could read his mind. Troy moaned in agreement, too committed to keeping Harris in his mouth to stop. Harris let out another long moan, a sound that made Troy shiver.
“You look so good down there, where you belong,” Harris groaned. The words were out of character for Harris, but perfect for this fantasy, making Troy’s stomach swoop, overwhelmed. He pulled one of his hands away from Harris’ legs to grab at himself between his legs, an attempt to lessen the ache, feeling seconds away from blowing his load in his pants. Harris clearly noticed, pulling Troy back by the grip in his hair, their eyes meeting.
“What do you want?” Harris asked, voice slightly shaky, though his face was a calm mask. Troy just swallowed, whining, unsure how to voice all the fantasies inside of him.
“You want to keep sucking me off in my suit?” Harris offered, the words making Troy squirm. “Want me to touch you? Put my fingers in you? Fuck you?”
Troy let out a little gasp at that, stomach tightening. God, did he want that last one. Bad. It must have shown on his face because Harris’ lips finally quirked up, the barest hint of a smile.
“Answer me,” Harris urged, voice low. “Good boys use their words.” Troy groaned at that, the words making his stomach flip. Harris was too damn good at this. It was blowing his mind.
“I want you to fuck me,” Troy admitted, heat pooling in his stomach as he imagined Harris in his suit, taking him from behind. "Please, sir," he added, the words coming out breathy and soft.
Harris said nothing, but the hand in his hair was tugging him again, making him stand up. Troy had only a moment to be sad, mourning that the dick sucking was over, before he found his mouth crashing into his boyfriend's.
Harris kissed him breathless, dominant in a way he usually wasn’t. Licking greedily into Troy’s mouth, holding Troy close, not letting him get away. Troy has his hands braced on Harris’ chest, gripping the lapels of his suit. He felt like he was holding on for dear life, struck by the realization that he was truly just along for the ride. That Harris really was playing the role of a confident, dominant boss the way he had craved.
Fuck, he loved his boyfriend.
“Get on the bed, clothes off,” Harris gasped when he pulled away, nodding towards it. Troy was happy to follow the command, stuttering out another “yes, sir” and stripping himself clumsily as he went. Then he was sitting naked on the sheets, watching as Harris kicked off his dress pants and boxers as he came closer, kneeling on the bed in front of Troy. When he moved to shrug out of his jacket, Troy whined in protest before he could help it.
“W-wait,” Troy was stuttering, his mind fuzzy. Harris hesitated, stopping his movements. “Can you, uh…”
“You want me to keep it on?” Harris asked, an eyebrow raised. He looked amused. “Need me to fuck you in my suit and tie?”
“Yes, please,” Troy admitted, face flushed. He needed it desperately, actually. Was the thing he had been thinking about for hours that day. Harris stared at him for a moment, expression calculated, before nodding. Then he was reaching for their bedside table, pulling out their lube bottle and turning to Troy.
“I’m going to finger you now,” Harris said, not looking away from his eyes. “And then I’m going to fuck you. That okay?”
Harris was checking in, asking, making sure Troy wanted this. Troy nodded, beyond grateful for his after-work shower, quickly flipping over and presenting his back to Harris. He was waiting for Harris to start teasing his hole, but instead, he felt his hands wrap around Troy’s waist. Harris was turning him around so they were facing each other, using his hands to hike Troy’s knees up to his chest.
“Like this,” Harris said simply, settling in front of him. “Want you to see me, fucking you in the suit you like.”
Troy moaned out loud at that again, a helpless sound, nodding his head against the pillows. Then Harris was moving, the familiar click of a bottle cap preceding the gentle prodding of one of his fingers against Troy’s hole.
Troy sighed out loud, melting into the sensation. Harris was opening him up gently, methodically, the way he usually did. Only his face still held that intense mask of concentration, of dominance, instead of his usual smiley demeanour. It was sending Troy embarrassingly close to the edge, turned on by his confidence, his competence. Utterly distracted by the way his loose tie was dangling in front of him as he started to move his hand, one finger becoming two, sending little sparks of pleasure across his skin.
“Oh,” Troy sighed, overwhelmed again. He hadn’t had Harris do this to him in months. It took him a second to get accustomed to the feeling, biting his bottom lip, his face flushing hot. Harris was smiling at him now, something smug.
“You like that?” Harris asked, stretching and scissoring them. “You like it when I’m inside of you?”
“Y-yeah,” Troy gasped, feeling breathless. He started grinding his hips, needing more, trying to meet Harris’ thrusts. The pleasure was starting to spark through him now, something warm pooling in his belly, the feeling making his mind even foggier. When two fingers became three, curling up to find that spot inside of him that made him see stars, he gasped out loud, body trembling against the bed. He couldn’t resist reaching a hand up, fingers grasping at the lapels of his suit again, rubbing the firm fabric through his fingers.
Then Harris was pulling out, impatient, lining himself up outside of Troy’s hole.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” Harris said, voice gravelly and deep. Then he was pushing in, the blunt pressure of him making Troy tremble even harder.
“Fuck, Harris,” Troy whined, the pleasure beginning to build just from the feeling of Harris sheathed inside of him. Harris was panting a bit, but still looked in control, hands moving to hold Troy around his stomach, braced on his waist. The pressure of it made Troy shiver, huffing out a little breath, hips twitching up.
“I think you mean sir,” Harris said, voice just on the side of teasing. Troy groaned out loud at that, twitching around him, stomach clenching. Harris let out a little huff of breath.
“Tell me what you want,” Harris suddenly prompted, voice deep. "Ask for it."
“Please fuck me, sir,” Troy begged, the words sending molten pleasure through his veins. “Please, please fuck me.”
Within seconds, Harris was moving. Swinging his hips in and out in a measured, easy tempo, fucking up into Troy as he held him against the bed. His tie swung with every thrust, the white fabric of his shirt against his chest now a little damp with sweat. The jacket seemed to strain around him, accentuating the bulge of his arms.
It was almost too much to take. Just the sight of Harris, fucking into him while dressed like this, was nearly enough to send him over the edge. He felt out of his mind with pleasure, that hazy, loopy feeling coming back with a vengeance.
“F-fuck,” he tried to gasp, his voice getting caught in his throat. “Oh, my God.”
“Does it feel good?” Harris asked, looking down at him. “You like being fucked into the mattress?”
“Yes, sir,” Troy gasped, biting his bottom lip. His abs were beginning to tense up now, a sign he was getting close. His dick was leaking profusely, way more than typical, straining the fabric of Harris’ dress shirt. He was mesmerized watching it, couldn’t look away. Harris was moving fast, so fast it was pushing Troy up the bed. He couldn’t help but brace his hands on Harris’ arms, a groan Harris let out prompting Troy to look up.
Harris' expression had grown even darker, his face flushed as his eyes met Troy’s. Then he was pulling out, flipping Troy over onto his stomach and shrugging out of his jacket, before pushing back in.
Immediately, he was fucking Troy at a relentless pace. He was going even harder now, a hand on Troy’s back squishing him into the mattress, forcing him to lie there and take it. Troy was seconds away from coming against the sheets, totally lost to Harris’ whims.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Troy was gasping out with each thrust, voice high and breathy in a way he’d never heard it before. The deep moan Harris let out made Troy’s heart stutter, eyes rolling back.
“Troy, your sounds,” Harris cooed. The hand he had holding Troy’s hip gripped him hard, the pressure of it making Troy keen. “You look so good underneath me.”
“Fuck yes, make me take it,” Troy begged, unable to stop himself, lost in a haze of pleasure now. “Fuck me, please, don’t stop fucking me.”
“I won’t,” Harris agreed, hips snapping up even faster. “Just take it. Take it for me.” Troy could feel the weight of Harris behind him, pinning him down. Now his dick was rubbing against the sheets, the friction making his whole body tighten up.
“I’m gonna come,” Troy warned, right there, almost unable to believe he was about to do this hands-free. Harris moaned loudly, both hands gripping Troy’s hips tighter, forcing him back up on his knees.
“Come for me,” Harris groaned, pace unrelenting. “Let me see it.”
With that, Troy was coming with a wail, a loud sound that rang through the house, body spasming beneath Harris as he came. He was flying apart into a million pieces, the pleasure pulsing through him, whiting out his mind, brain filled with nothing but Harris, Harris, Harris. His weight against Troy’s body, the firm pressure of him inside of him, the way each thrust seemed to make the pleasure grow even bigger, contributing to the static in his brain.
Just as the pleasure began to eclipse, becoming a little too much, Harris was coming too. Troy could feel the warmth of it inside him, felt his own dick twitch at the delicious, deep groan Harris let out against the back of his neck as his hips stuttered into him. Then Harris was pulling out gently, collapsing beside him, panting out of breath. Troy pushed himself up onto his elbows, still feeling wobbly, looking over at his boyfriend. He looked debauched and sexy, still in his shirt and tie, face flushed with heat.
The image of it inspired Troy to grab Harris by the tie, pulling him closer. Harris let out a little surprised sound, but went willingly, moaning when Troy’s lips finally met his. Troy kissed Harris like he deserved, trying to pour everything he felt into it. So grateful that he had a boyfriend who made him feel like this, who was able to give it to him this good. Who was able to make his dreams come true, and make him feel better than anyone ever had.
They made out like that for a while, Troy shifting to lie against Harris’ front, hand curled securely around his tie, not wanting to let go. Harris let his hands roam Troy’s body, touching him everywhere like he couldn’t get enough, the barest sparks of residual pleasure riding out between them as they kissed and touched.
It was Troy who pulled away first, feeling like he needed to catch his breath, smiling down at his boyfriend as he did. Harris had finally lost his tight mask of control; the intense broody persona melted away. He was his usual soft, smiley self now, blinking up at Troy, biting his bottom lip.
“Was that good?” Harris asked softly, a hand cupping Troy’s face. Troy couldn’t help but laugh, nodding.
“It was amazing,” Troy said softly, tugging the tie gently once before letting go. “You’re amazing.”
Harris let out a hum at that. Troy moved to lie back down on his chest against the fabric of his shirt, warming at the feeling of Harris’ arms wrapping around him, holding him close. The two of them enjoyed the silence, the room filled with nothing but the sound of their breathing. Troy had started fiddling with Harris’ tie, fingers trailing the soft fabric.
“So… suits, huh?” Harris eventually spoke, his voice just a hint teasing. Troy looked up at him, blushing but ultimately unashamed.
“You can’t make fun of my suit kink when you have a jock fetish,” he teased back. Harris laughed out loud at that, the chest under Troy’s ear jostling.
“Okay, fair enough,” Harris conceded. “Maybe we just have a kink for each other’s workwear.”
Now it was Troy’s turn to laugh, the two of them dissolving into a fit of giggles, wrapped securely in each other’s arms.