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Work and Play Pt. 02

If you don't think I fucked myself with that dildo that night after Grayson left, I don't know what to tell you.

If you don't think I upgraded that fantasy and came twice that night, you're wrong. I stuck that thing to the smooth wood of my bedframe and went to work. Feeling the latex plunge in and out of me caused this animalistic high that got my heart racing a little too fast.

I make a formal decision to ditch the dildo. I cleaned it up and put it back in the package, tucked under the bathroom sink, only to be used for desperate measures. Maybe I'll actually get rid of it when I get my head on straight.

I feel a little bad about not returning a call from Grayson on Saturday, but my mind hasn't been centered on work in over 48 hours, and if I want to be president of this company, I need to use my "people skills" and maybe grab the vice chairman a cup of coffee and introduce myself. And that's all the butt kissing I'm doing.

Shannon taps on my door with a small package in hand. "Hey, kiddo. No coffee today?"

"I'm more than awake, actually," I smile.

"What'd you bring me?"

"I don't know... it has your name on it and I found it the gift basket we never put away. Looks like a gift to me." Shannon raises her eyebrow suspiciously. "You might just have a secret admirer."

I frown. Grayson, most likely. I hold out my hands to receive my present. Shannon looks excited. I open the small, printed box to find a small bag of hazelnut roast.

"Someone knows you well," Shannon smiles.

"Was it you?" I ask, just to make sure.

"Oh, no way. I don't like you enough," she clicks. "Is that all? Expensive coffee?"

"Expensive?" I question.

"Oh, yeah. Jamaican Blue Mountain? It's like $50 a pound. Some lady really has got the hots for you, my dear." Shannon sits on my desk. "So, we're going to meet this vice chairman today around 2:00 or something. I was thinking we should take a lunch and then never come back. I don't feel like meeting some cocky bigshot who thinks just because he can decide who is CEO of this company, he has some kind of power."

"Agreed," I say, still annoyed that Grayson spent $50 on coffee for me. "Yeah, yeah. Let's do that."

Shannon raises an eyebrow in question again. "You alright? I thought you had no time for relationships."

"I don't," I reply quickly. But damn sure I'm drinking this coffee in the next ten minutes.

"Well, I have to go write someone up," Shannon sighs. "New kid. Using the company computers for porn. God, I wish they'd all be like you."

"And what am I?" I ask smugly.

"You're like, 35 in a 24 year old body. It's great. Gotta go."

As soon as Shannon leaves, my face shifts to a frown. Middle-aged mom, I'm telling you.

I'll be nice and thank Grayson for the coffee, but he doesn't get any special attention. I just hope he doesn't get annoying.

At 10:45, I head to our fancied-up break room upstairs to make myself a cup of this lovely coffee. I like this time, because nobody ever uses the break room until it's almost lunch time, or about 4:00. Not to mention half of my chunky comrades don't feel like taking the elevator two floors up for some coffee.

I'm about to reach for the good creamer (the creamer I hide from my coworkers) at the top of the cabinet closest to the door when the door swings open and in storms a tirade of shoulders and hair and suit, knocking me on my ass.

"What the fuck?" I snap, palming the ground gently for the glasses that were knocked off my face.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I hear from behind with the sink running.

"Again, what the fuck?" I snap, finally locating my thick plastic frames. I stand up, brushing dirt off my pants. I swerve around to see the idiot, but he's infatuated with whatever he's dealing with at the sink. "Um, hello?"

"I'm bleeding, goddammit," he snaps at me. "Fuck off."

"So you had to knock me over? There are bathrooms for a reason, you know," I argue, trudging over to the sink and catching glimpse of a nasty cut on the guy's thumb. I could never really handle blood, and find myself backing up immediately. "What on earth? This is an office job, you know."

"Look," he says sternly, "I don't need your shit right now." I think I recognize him from somewhere. Maybe he works in accounting. I think so. He's a big guy, probably around 6'3" or taller, even. He's got football shoulders and a very athletic chest from what I can see. I know the face from somewhere. I don't forget faces often. "Grab me a paper towel."

I don't argue, but I roll my eyes, snatching two paper towels from the roll and shoving them his way he grabs them, but they drop into the sink. "Christ, you're naturally clumsy, then."

"And you're naturally bitter, I take it?" he says through gritted teeth. One big forearm shoves me out of the way and he grabs more paper towels for himself. I don't want to stay for a second more, but I do anyway, remembering that my coffee is still filtering. He seems to have it all under control within the next twenty seconds, so I ignore him, and focus on my drink.

"Thanks for the help, Nancy," he grumbles after putting a makeshift bandage on his thumb.

"Nice hands, Feet. I'm not the one who almost got himself killed at work," I snap at him. He's out the door before I finish the last of my sentence. Why did he call me Nancy?


"Tell me why I'm not a doctor," I sigh to Shannon while we eat noodles at a vegetarian place.

"Because blood is gross," she replies.

"Damn right. There was this freak who cut his finger open while I was trying to get coffee today. Had the nerve to snap at me multiple times while I tried to give him paper towels. And he knocked me over in the process."

"I don't believe you," Shannon says with a chuckle. "I don't believe you were nice."

I scoff, "Really? Wow. Okay, I see how it is."

"I know you in pressure situations. You're not nice."

"So, I wasn't the nicest," I chuckle. "Still, it was gross and weird. I think he works in accounting. It's gonna be awkward if I see him again."

We eat in relative silence. I can tell there's something on her mind. "Spit it."

"I want to know who gave you the coffee."

"I don't. I'm not interested," I yawn.

"Not even a little bit? Zeke, it's gotta be someone who pays enough attention to you to know you love coffee." I shrug, dismissing it. Grayson hasn't come near me all day. I don't blame him. I'm kind of an asshole.

We decide to meet our new head boss anyway, finishing up lunch and heading back to the building. It's about 1:30, so I switch on my favorite movie soundtrack, waiting until we're

called to the conference room.


Shannon and I sit together, close to the back of the room. I feel the slump of after lunch hit as soon as I sit down.

Just as I'm about to complain to Shannon about how we have to be at this stupid meeting, the guy who bumped into me earlier walks into the room, standing at the front. He's cleaned up, put a suit on. There's a bandage on his thumb, and he looks a lot less like a boxer with his sleeves not rolled up.

I stop short, my jaw dropped. Freak who bumped into me today, the one I was quite rude to, is the vice chairman of OTech. I was a complete asshole to the one guy who might have a hand in deciding my future.

"Hello," comes the deep voice when everyone is finally seated. "My name is Gabriel Ortega, your vice chairman. Senior chairman, my uncle, was unable to make it out for the deciding process, so I volunteered in his place. I'm pleased to be here, meeting the real machine of OrtegaTech, located right here in Colorado. The people in this building have done more for OrtegaTech, helping one man's dream become a reality by spreading the good works throughout the Western United States. For that, you should applaud yourselves."

The audience breaks out in applause, but I'm still in shock. Shocked that I was pretty nasty to Maurice Ortega's nephew and vice chairman, and shocked that he didn't do a thing about it.

He is all shoulders, now that I look at him. He has very athletic legs and a strong body, like an Adonis statue of some kind. His hair, dark and sleek, would probably hang close to his bright silvery eyes if he didn't have it gently tucked behind his ears.

He must be half-Hispanic, because his skin is a light tawny color, his lips are very russet-colored and full. His softer features don't make him look younger at all; on the contrary. He's intimidatingly smooth and tall like a well-fed Nebraskan man.

Shannon nudges me. "Seen a ghost lately?"

"That's the guy I was an ass to," I reply. Shannon chuckles. "Damn it."

"Well, you'd better make it right as quickly as possible," Shannon says, giving my leg a squeeze. I know that's right.

I can't focus on anything Gabriel says until the last part.

"In celebration of a new era of OrtegaTech and of the wonderful people here, there will be a St. Patrick's day formal come next weekend. I do hope I can get to know all of you, and you may get to know me as well." Gabriel smiles with a nod, and dismisses the meeting.

I can't believe I have to do this.


I knock on the door three times before Gabriel's secretary opens it. "Hello."

"I'm here to see Mr. Ortega," I say, trying not to sound too dreadful of my upcoming apology.

"He's on the phone right now," the woman says. "I can take a message."

"It's a—" I begin before a low voice interrupts.

"Let them in, Jiao," Gabriel calls. The pretty Chinese woman smiles and steps out of the way. Gabriel's face shifts into a slight frown at the sight of me. "Jiao, go ahead and... go ahead downstairs and introduce yourself. I'll be a minute," he says, dismissing her. She leaves, closing the door behind her. He's sitting in his desk, leaned back and stance wide. "Hm."

Before he gets the chance to make a smart-aleck remark, I begin my rehearsed apology. "I wanted to apologize for today's earlier events," I say quickly. "I do not react well in high-pressure circumstances and today was no exception. I hope you do forgive me."

Gabriel sits motionless, a hand under his chin and a finger on his lips. For a good five seconds, he says nothing, practically glaring up at me from his position.

"Is that an apology, or an excuse?" he asks calmly. He's right. That apology was bullshit.

"I am sorry. I did not intend to make a bad situation worse. I should not have been so difficult and impervious," I reply, quick on my feet. Those grey eyes are practically boring into me. "I did not want to start on a bad note, sir."

"What's your name?" he asks, folding his arms and leaning back even further.

"Ezekiel Hartigan."

"Strong name. Ezekiel is of Biblical origin," Gabriel says matter-of-factly.

I scoff. I can't help it; he hit one of my pet peeves. "Is that supposed to impress me? Your name is Biblical too. Everyone knows that."

Gabriel smiles. God, what is he doing? "I want you to be real with me, Ezekiel. All the formality isn't your style. You like telling people what to do and telling people they're wrong, do you not? Real apologies can't fit in with your personality."

"Don't presume to know me," I reply sternly and articulately, arms folded.

"How old are you, Zeke?"

"How old are you?"

Gabriel chuckles again, flashing bright white teeth at me before nodding acceptingly. "Thirty-two."

"A little young for a vice chairman, I believe," I say.

"And let me guess," Gabriel sighs. He stands up, pacing toward me slowly with his hands behind his back. "You went to a fancy college, did pretty well."

I pause, choosing my words wisely. "Harvard. Valedictorian." I say quietly, keeping my voice smooth and calm.

"And how old are you, Ezekiel?" Gabriel asks again. He's only about a foot and a half away from me, looking down without any sympathy in his eyes.

"Twenty-four," I say.

Gabriel nods in some kind of understanding. "You're arrogant and bitter for your age, Zeke. I'd tone it down. If you wanted to come here and genuinely apologize, you'd just do it. No rehearsed speech, no stretch of your colloquial vocabulary... and you wouldn't have waited until you found out I was vice chairman beforehand. Don't embarrass yourself. And no, I don't accept your apology. Dismissed, Nancy."

Without another word, I storm out of the room.

Who the hell does he think he is? We're in a

goddamn professional workplace, I'm not gonna pretend that everyone here is my friend. And if that fucker calls me Nancy again...


I don't have a decent dinner once I get home.

After I confronted Gabriel, I couldn't focus for shit. The rest of the day was spent lazily making generic phone calls instead of doing any independent work. The man didn't have to say anything profound and he made me feel worthless. I'm not cocky. I'm difficult, probably overtly honest and sometimes short with people, but arrogant? I don't even like arrogant people, why would I want to be one?

If saying that I graduated valedictorian from Harvard makes me cocky, then I guess saying the sky is blue does the same thing; both are facts.

I fork down a box-brand macaroni and cheese dinner with a protein shake on the side while I look over social media trends. Surprisingly, OTech hasn't used much social media. I'm going to present this idea when they start interviewing for a CEO.

My phone buzzes with a text from Grayson.

GRAYSON: Heard you were a "meanie" to the man upstairs xD. Don't sweat it, Shannon says he's a joke.

I frown. I completely avoided Grayson all day.

ZEKE: Yeah. I apologized and he blew it off. Kind of a dick. Hey, I wanted to say thanks for the coffee, never got the chance, sorry.

GRAYSON: :) that's alright. Hope you like it anyway. But you're fired :O

ZEKE: ha, I'm suing. Gtg. Working on something big.

Coincidentally, after I ditch Zeke's company, I am at a complete block. I don't know where to start with this thing.

Then I get a thought. I had a blog my second year of college. I ran it anonymously, mostly debating political issues and mocking the campus professors. I thought I was important. OTech needs a blog or some shit.

After about five attempts, I log into my old blog to find it overrun by idiots. There's numerous ads on the side, mostly for easy-money sites and porn. I should be disappointed in myself that I'm more disturbed by the easy-money sites.

And I don't watch porn. Never really have. I don't look it up on my own time. If I happen to stumble upon something interesting, that's all it is. I guess I always saw porn as desperate and pathetic...

Maybe I am cocky and annoying. Anyone else would have no problem with it. I just take everything too personally. It could be those good ol' family values fucking with my brain.

I didn't even know what 'gay' was in my household. I didn't know it existed beyond rumors. All I knew was that every time one of my seven (yeah, seven) siblings turned 18, they sat down with Lillian and Matthew (my parents), and had to write down everything they knew about sex.

When I turned 18, when it was my turn, I cried. I knew nothing about girls. I didn't want girls touching me, I didn't want to touch them, and I hadn't kissed anyone. I had no desire to. My religious parents had no idea what was wrong with me. I thought it'd be a good thing that I had no clue about it (for the sake of purity and virginity), but it made me feel puny and stupid.

I told my best friend about the horror of it—a college student, his name was Raul; my parents hated him 'cause he was Mexican—and he laughed at me. I, not knowing what in god's name was so funny, pouted away until Raul told me he thought I was gay.

I demanded an explanation. He gave me one. I agreed.

Then he fucked me.

It hurt, as expected, but a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. Between Raul asking me questions about the way I felt and him touching my body in ways I never imagined, I don't know if I would've wanted any other experience. Raul sucked me off and fingered me until I was sure I liked it. He gently put his cock in my mouth... after five minutes, it felt natural. I'm sure the sex for him was probably boring and slow, but I didn't care.

After that, I used his computer to look up the technical side of things. I felt like I missed out on something. I was certain none of my other siblings, five older and two younger, were gay. It was like I had something to myself in a way. Instantly, I began to think differently, looking at my religious household in an altered light.

And here we are today.

I'm still hesitant to type in anything... what on earth do I even want to watch? Do I even want to watch anything? You can find just about anything in the porn world, I'm guessing. I don't have any fetishes, and I don't want to see guys who look like me getting fucked...

I simply search 'gay porn' in an incognito window. 5 million something results come up. If I could just get over that all-entitled hump and just click a damn video.


Grayson bought me more expensive coffee. It sits on the corner of my desk with a little note: "Don't have to thank me ~ G."

I have other things on my mind. Nobody has to know I spent two and a half hours a night for three days watching two, sometimes three or four men fucking each other in all kinds of different positions. Nobody has to know I spent the majority of that time stroking my dick furiously, wishing I was the one being violated and spanked and fucked up against desks and beds and whatever else I watched.

One thing's for sure: that's not going to happen anytime soon. If I can't even let Grayson, whom I know very well, barely lay his hands on me, I'm not going to let some stranger do whatever he wants.

Plus, I wasted time those nights. If I'm going to be CEO, I need something big. I need to show that I'm dedicating myself to this company even though I haven't been here very long. This blog is going to be huge.

Shannon knocks on my door. I look up to see her with a folder in hand. "Peer and supervisor evaluations," she says annoyance in her voice. "Handwritten because Grayson wants it to be personal."

I roll my eyes. Typical Grayson. "Is it just people in our department?" I ask. Shannon nods. "Including Grayson?"

"Yep. Hey, you got more coffee," Shannon smiles. I quickly snatch the note from it and look at it suddenly, as if I didn't know it was there beforehand. "This is kind of exciting, Zeke," she teases.

"I think this person should lay off," I huff. Shannon lays the folder on my desk. "Although coffee is coffee. When are we supposed to have these evaluations in to HR?" I ask.

"By St. Patrick's Day, I think. Speaking of... are you going to that party?"

"Anything to help me be CEO," I sigh. "And I could stand to meet a few people in this building. I only know you, Grayson, and the ad crew. Oh, and Sandy from the janitorial staff."

"I know Sandy. Good woman. Anyway, I invited Grayson to lunch with us—"

"Why?" I interrupt.

Shannon looks taken aback. "Because... we haven't been to lunch with him in a month or so? And he said he has something important to tell us. Olive Garden. See you at 12."

I nod. I haven't said anything to Grayson in days. I mean, he's almost thirty; I'm sure I'm not breaking his teenager-y heart here. But I simply can't get my mind to focus on one thing at the moment. It's best to hold off on that right now. I'll stick to beating myself off and playing fantasies in my head before I go to sleep.


I use the new vanilla roast for my solitude coffee break, and head upstairs discreetly to the empty break room. It's nice and warm in here with the heater working at full force, and it smells like toffee. Such a contrast to the dry, bitter Colorado wind and snow outside.

Instantly, I zip over to the cabinet to grab the good creamer and set it on the counter, but it's not there. I thought I left it there... I swear I did. I used it yesterday in my hazelnut coffee and—
"May I help you?" I hear from my right. I practically jump out of my skin. Mr. All Important Vice Chairman, Gabriel Ortega sits at the table, newspaper in hand and legs crossed. Christ, he's quiet as hell.

"I—" my eyes find the creamer at his table, sitting by his large forearm. "That's mine," I say quietly. Gabriel looks at me in confusion. "I mean, it's the creamer I like. I personally purchase it with the money we set aside for our break room."

"Oh..." Gabriel says, surprised. "I thought what was in here was free for all to use. I apologize."

"It is free to use," I reply. "Just that it's not... I mean it is, but I prefer if people put things back," I say, my tone tight and irritated.

"Again, I apologize," Gabriel says with a nod, hardly looking away from his newspaper. Ugh. I'll just wait until he leaves to grab the creamer. It looks like he's boiling water in our tea kettle. It should be ready soon, probably two minutes.

I go to grab the filters from the cabinet, but they're two shelves up. Of course. I stand on my toes, but I still can't reach it. This is ridiculous. Gabriel definitely moved all of my stuff. I'm practically the only one who uses this upstairs break room. There's another down the hallway, and most people use that one or the one downstairs. Honestly, just put things where you found them.

I don't say a word, choosing to grab a chair and stand on it to reach the filters. Not gonna let simple things ruin my day. Luckily, the teapot starts whistling, so Gabriel stands up.

Then it hits me.

"Why are you using my creamer for tea?" I blurt out.

"That's how one properly makes tea, Nancy," Gabriel says smoothly. I scoff in annoyance at his tea drinking and at his calmness and at the way he radiates his dark masculinity throughout the room like he owns the place. If he calls me Nancy again, I might start to think that's my real name.

Ugh, fuck him, honestly.

"You could just drink coffee," I retort under my breath.

"I'm allergic to caffeine," Gabriel snaps. I step off the chair and reach for the creamer, but Gabriel has it. I frown. He looks me right in the eye as he pours the last few teaspoons into his giant cup of tea, every last drop.

"Oh, sorry. I don't think there's enough for the both of us." He looks at his cup with a fake sympathy face.

Well, if this isn't just the most childish thing.

Just then, his secretary comes in with a frenzy. "Your uncle's on the phone, Gabriel," she says quickly and urgently. Gabriel instantly sets his tea on the counter, storming out of the room.

Well, since we're being childish...

I act quickly, grabbing the caffeinated lemon tea, taking out Gabriel's bag and replacing it with the caffeinated brand. As soon as it happens, I feel my heart start beating too fast, too hard. I toss the previous bag behind the refrigerator. God, I'm stupid and I don't know how allergic he is to caffeine—it's too late to go back now. I could wait until he comes back into the room and tell him what I did...

Absolutely not.

I'm in too deep now. I filter my coffee, barely breathing, just waiting for the death of my short career here. As I add some watery creamer to my coffee, Gabriel walks in with his sleeves rolled up, looking as intimidating and masculine as ever.

He takes a sip of tea on his way out.


Grayson sits across from me at Olive Garden. He's swept his brown hair back, making his green eyes stand out. I kissed him the other day. Ugh, I kissed him and I almost put my mouth on him.

Halfway through our meal, Grayson has hardly said a thing. Shannon is Concerned Mom, as usual. We order dessert, and that's when Grayson decides to speak up. If this is what I think it is...

"You guys are probably the closest friends I've had here," he starts. "I think this is the closest I've been to a group of people in... years. I've been reckless with my trust and friendships—"

Okay, Grayson. You're fucking gay.

"—and I think it's time—"

You love fucking men, Grayson.

"—to be honest here. I just hope—"

Yeah, honey. You wanna bone me. Spit it out already.

"—this doesn't change anything." Grayson stares at his hands. "I'm gay." He keeps staring at his hands. "I know it shouldn't be a big deal and I-I didn't want you guys to think I didn't trust you..." He looks up, right at me. "Being honest and out with it is just going to lift a weight off my shoulders. I can't be the friend that holds back anymore. That never works out... for anyone."

Oh, is he fucking KIDDING me?

Is that supposed to guilt me into somehow spilling my own information? He could've just told Shannon since I already knew, but oh no. If he wants me to come out with it, he just set me back a few hundred steps. Two can play this game.

I grab his hand, giving him my most sympathetic smile. "We aren't going to judge you, Grayson," I say sweetly.

"Yeah, Grayson," Shannon chuckles. "We aren't going anywhere." She grabs his other hand; her smile is genuine. "I don't care what you like. That doesn't define you at all."

Grayson's eyes haven't left mine. Not for a second.


That was the most awkward coming-out-to-friends thing I've ever experienced. I mean, I haven't seen much of it, but that was weird... and kind of stupid.

Shannon and I stack up some already completed evaluations in the small file room. She's just beaming after Grayson's confession, like it made her day or something.

"You know? I never would've thought Grayson would be gay. I can usually tell," she says, handing me a stack of papers.

I can't help but snort at her claim. I guess she's 0 for 2 with Grayson and me. "Well, good for him," I say, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Hope he finds someone."

"Unless he already has..." Shannon says. "I just feel good that he trusts us, you know? It's just nice knowing—"

Before she finishes her sentence, Gabriel Ortega walks into the room. I can feel the heat rush throughout my entire body. I almost forgot what I did to him earlier today.

"Hello, Mr. Ortega," Shannon says nicely. He gives her a smile and a nod. His lips are swollen and his eyes are noticeably red. Shannon notices too. "Oh, um—"

"You can call me Gabriel," he says gently with a nice smile. "Sorry for my appearance; I guess my allergies aren't used to the Colorado atmosphere yet. It doesn't help that it's constantly snowing in March," he says. With that, he looks me dead in the eyes. "Never know if you're going to get... stuck somewhere. And how are you, Mr. Hartigan?"

I gulp before answering. "I'm good, sir," I reply, my hands shaking in my pockets. "I hope you're staying warm. California to Colorado is a big climate change."

"I am indeed, thank you. I've been drinking tea nonstop since I arrived," he says. And I'm the only one who notices his eyes narrow the tiniest bit. I'm dead. I'm so dead. He knows what I did and he's probably going to kill me with his bare hands. "Well, if you'll excuse me," he says politely. He grabs a file and then leaves.

"I'm dead, Shanaynay. I'm getting fired," I whisper.


"We got in a disagreement earlier today and he's allergic to caffeine and when he wasn't looking I switched his tea and—"

"Wait, what are you saying to me?" Shannon cuts me off. "Slow down."

I sigh. "He said he was allergic to caffeine. He purposely took the last of the creamer upstairs. I switched the tea he had to caffeinated tea out of spite. He knows I did it. I'm dead," I explain. Shannon gives me the most condescending look ever.

"Are you stupid? Zeke!" Shannon makes sure nobody's around. "You could've killed him if it were severe enough."

"I know," I whine. Through the window, I can see Gabriel laughing with the ladies in sales. "If I'm not here tomorrow, you can have that paperweight you like. Tell Grayson he can have the rug under my computer chair."


I check out later than everyone else, making sure I don't bump into Gabriel on my way out. What a mess.

The elevator door opens, and I jump when a face stares back at me. It's Jiao, Gabriel's secretary. No sign of Gabriel. She greets me with a small nod. I step inside cautiously.

"How was your day?" she asks.

"Fine, and yours?" I reply quickly.

"Eventful," she sighs with a chuckle. Then she looks me right in the eye. "It's not everyday someone pulls a fast one on Gabriel. It took a while to calm him down."

I swallow hard. "Well, I hope he's okay," I say, my voice tight.

"I hope you're okay," Jiao says quietly with a knowing look in her eye. Then the elevator arrives at the bottom floor, and she gets out.

I cautiously stride to my car, looking around—I don't know why I'm so scared but I am—and then I stop short.

On three sides of my car, there's mountains of snow. Probably four feet tall and two or three feet thick on each side. A fucking barricade. Even if I wanted to just ram into the snow behind my car, it's going to take half an hour to clear it enough to get inside my driver's seat. My doors are probably frozen shut. Fuck me.

As soon as I drop my briefcase in shock, Gabriel walks out of the building on cue. He takes one look at my car and smiles to himself. He must've set this up. Had to. "Have a good night, Zeke," he calls before heading off to his car.

It takes me an hour and a half to clear away the snow and get my car started.



I haven't told Shannon about what Gabriel did, and I think she forgot about what I told her a couple days ago. All I know is I've shamefully hid my face from him, and haven't gone upstairs for coffee in a while. And that's fine with me. What Gabriel did really soured my week (I asked around; turns out our snowplowing guy got a $150 tip the night a fort was built around my car), so not surprisingly, I haven't been in the best mood.

So far, I've had about six women tell me how good I look, Grayson tried to discreetly stare at me from across the room, and I haven't taken my Adderall. It's not often I wear a nice suit, or a suit at all, really. I'm a vest kind of guy.

Everyone looks just about as nice as you can for a St. Patrick's Day get-together. I don't plan on staying long. It's been an hour, and everyone has either gone around the room introducing themselves to the people they don't know, or kissing Gabriel's ass. I don't know if it's because they find his 6'5" build scary or because he looks like the cover model for a men's magazine.

And I can't believe I just thought that.

Maybe it's a good thing I haven't taken any medication, because the arrangement of alcohol looks enticing. I didn't drink a lot in college, but when I did, I certainly had fun. Some of the wildest sex I've had was when I hardly had control over my own body.

I start gentle, sipping on a glass of champagne and making small talk with a few people. I'm not planning on sucking Gabriel's dick or calling a truce. It's not like he has a huge say in the deciding process. He's only one guy.

Recently, I had a big hand in putting together a thirty second commercial for OrtegaTech's online store, and it's being presented in a few minutes. Everyone is gathered around the area by the large flat screen. I've seen this commercial over two hundred times. When nobody's watching, I grab a bottle of champagne from under the table and head upstairs to the coffee room. Nobody's going to be there.

I don't know how long it's been, but the bottle is empty and I've taken my shoes off like a college girl. Apparently, I decided I didn't need to see along the way, because my glasses are on the table next to me. I can't decide if this is fun or not, but I feel great.

The larger part of me contemplates going downstairs to see if I can be sneaky enough to grab another bottle. Maybe Grayson could bring me something. God, he'd love to see me, wouldn't he? Grayson's nice and... he's hot.

Damn, Grayson's fucking hot, isn't he? I don't know what's wrong with Sober Zeke but Grayson would probably let me ride him into next week.

I loosen up my green tie thinking about how much fun I would've had if Grayson held me up against my refrigerator and pounded my tight asshole until—

"What are you doing?" I hear from my angle. That's when I realize I'm sitting on the floor. "Ezekiel?"

Gabriel closes the door gently behind him. He's trying to be sneaky. He has a bottle of champagne in his hand and he's tucked it behind his leg.

"Caught you," I say. My voice sounds odd. It's too low and full. Gabriel sounds and looks as he regularly does. He's just a mass of... man. He's a mass of masculinity and sophistication and I hate him. I hate him so much.

"No, I definitely think that's the other way around," he says, setting the bottle on the counter.

"You have a—" I grunt while I stand up, "whole bottle of champagne there, buddy. I think I caught you." I put my glasses on and straighten up a little. "So let me just forget I saw your stupid face and go do the do."

Gabriel smirks, walking over to me with a knowing look. He looks under the table to find my own very empty bottle of alcohol and throws me the smuggest smile I've ever seen. "If you don't tell, I won't tell," he says, looking down on me like he—

like he owns my ass.

Fuck him. Really? Out of all the things he has done and all that douchebaggery and-and his superiority complex—he does NOT get to turn me on like this. No way. And it's not like I can let him know that. Shannon doesn't know that I'm gay and Gabriel doesn't get to know either. So he can add that to the list of things he can tease me about? Over my dead body.

I'd have to be sick and dying to let his name come out of my mouth.

"I only work with bribes," I say. Well, that was NOT what I was thinking. Way to give yourself away, Zeke.

"Oh?" Gabriel says in this ridiculous condescending tone—God, I'm practically shaking and then my mind goes straight to the fucking gutter.

That fantasy I had over a week ago...

"Tell me to be quiet," I say quickly. Gabriel looks confused yet intrigued, and he invades my space even more. "I'm drunk a-and I want to have sex with you and I think my best bet is to just shut my big mouth before I end up saying more dumb things."

"Like 'you want to have sex with me'? Dumb things like that?" Gabriel says with a laugh. I shove past him on a beeline to the door, but then have to make a U turn to grab my shoes.

Oh, fuck it.

I yank Gabriel down by his tie to kiss him. He's caught by surprise, but adjusts quickly. Is he gay? Who knows? Then he pulls away. "Are you fuckin' serious?" he snaps, looking around.

"Pretty damn serious," I reply. Gabriel is doing some heavy self-contemplation before I clear my throat to get his attention.

"I don't want trouble," he says softly.

"Neither do I," I reply. Gabriel leans down and licks my lips before pushing his tongue in my mouth. He's an excellent kisser, and had I thought about it before, with his large lips, I probably wouldn't moan as loudly as I just did. The kiss is practically orgasmic, I don't know if it's because I'm drunk or desperate. Probably both.

Gabriel shoves me against the wall before I realize what's happening. Fuck, he's so fucking tall and big—I wrap my arms around his neck and suck on his tongue before I feel his hands on my ass. I can feel his cock bulge against my groin, which just gets me more excited. I wonder how big his dick is.

We're grinding on each other as if nobody could walk through the door at any minute. Gabriel fucks his tongue in and out of my mouth while I unbutton his suit jacket, and he does the same with mine. It's been a good five minutes of tonguing and grinding. Gabriel hasn't let me move unless he's moved me, and my submissive side really plays it up when I'm buzzed.

My cock practically hurts with the strain against my pants. Gabriel sits down and drags me onto his lap. I sit, straddled, and he puts his big hands on my waist, grinding my ass onto his lap. I unbutton his shirt; just as I thought, his chest has a little bit of hair scattered, and the little bit of light in the room reflects the sweat off of his defined abs.

He's not chiseled or bulky, just strong and built as hell.

He kisses on my neck fiercely, and I grab the bulge of his cock. Holy shit is he packing something huge. All at once in a harsh whisper he says, "Suck me off."

"Planning on it," I breathe. Immediately, I get on my knees in front of the chair, and this time I don't hesitate. I unbutton his slacks to see what I'm in for. As I let his cock out of his briefs, Gabriel groans the tiniest bit.

I've seen big before, but Gabriel has taken it to the next level. Maybe it's the alcohol talking but from what I can see, he's bigger than the dildo I have in my bathroom. Thick and long—it's like a dream.

I stroke him slowly, wondering how to approach the task at hand. I kiss up the side of the shaft and rub my thumb along the tip. There's already a buildup of pre-cum on the head. My own dick pulses in my pants, but I'm waiting.

My tongue swirls along the dark head of his cock before I take about three inches in, just getting the feel and taste of him. I can feel his pulse beat in my mouth, and I end up moaning around the thickness. I suck slowly but dramatically, relishing the feel of his member.

When I start bobbing my hand back and forth, Gabriel runs his fingers through my hair, subtly encouraging me to take more of him in my mouth, down my throat. I cough the tiniest bit and Gabriel pulls me off. "I'm fine," I gasp, then I take over half of him in my mouth. I finally take my own cock out and begin stroking quickly in the rhythm of my bobbing head. I get a good grip on the base of his dick and lick along the side. If I were him, with this thick, 9" cock, I'd probably hold myself up all high and mighty too.

"All the way," he says, voice low. His fingers are gentle in my hair. I nod once and begin to slowly take him into my mouth. I cough once he hits the back of my throat. I still have two inches left. I can't do it.

I pull off completely, gasping for air. "I can't," I breathe.

"Try again," Gabriel says. I nod again, almost saying 'yes sir', and close my eyes. Nine fucking inches. Again, in the same spot, I cough. "That's alright. C'mere." Gabriel tilts my chin up and leans down for a kiss. "You want my cock? Huh?" he whispers into my mouth. I nod like a little submissive boy. "What was that?"

"Yes," I breathe. I almost say 'please', but I'm not that drunk. As Gabriel stands up, so do I. I didn't know he could get me any more turned on, but the sight of his hair fallen in his eyes makes me moan before I kiss him again.

When he looks at the surface of the table, I immediately hop up and lay on my back. He strips off my pants and is between my open legs before I get the chance to say anything.

"Are you clean?" Gabriel asks, referencing the fact that there are not in fact any condoms in this break room. I nod vigorously. "'Cause I am, and if—"

"I haven't had sex in years," I blurt.

Gabriel kisses my neck and jawline until both of our hands end up in the same spot, hovering over my ass. "Let me," he says. He places two strong fingers in my mouth, and I close my eyes, sucking on them like candy. Gabriel strokes his member, waiting hungrily.

As soon as I feel his two fingers slide into me, I feel my whole body jerk. It's like Gabriel came to this company to fulfill my fantasies. I'm fine with that.

After three fingers, and impressively, no lube, Gabriel dots his pre-cum around my hole. The pressure of his head pushing into me almost sends me over the edge. "Eyes on me," he commands. I look into his grey eyes, just breathing. His dick is stretching me open and it hurts but it hurts good. He kisses me, all tongue, as the last few inches of his huge cock slide inside me.

Oh god.

I'm gonna cum. Right now.

Gabriel instantly hits my prostate within the first thrust.

"Wait—ahh," I gasp. My head is thrown back while Gabriel's hands are gripping my waist.

"I'm all the way in already—"

"I'm gonna cum, Gabe. I-I'm gonna—fuuuuuuck," I groan. "Just hold on. Hold on."

Gabriel leans forward and tilts my chin down. "I just got into you. Hold on. Look at me. Don't think about it. Just focus on me." I shake my head. The pressure in my balls is overwhelming. I can't believe he's barely done a thing and my body already craves that release. Gabriel pulls out a little bit, pushes back in.

I'm too close.

"I can't—I can't hold it," I gasp. I'm gripping onto his forearms.

"Zeke, c'mon. I'm barely inside you," he says, annoyed.

"You are literally filling my ass. Give me a break," I snap back. He gives the tiniest thrust to my prostate and I lose it. I practically erupt all over Gabriel's chest and my own.

"Okay..." Gabriel helps me ride out the last part of my orgasm. "Christ, it's like you're a virgin or something."

"Very funny," I reply. We're close enough to the wall that Gabriel can reach the paper towels. He cleans us up before dominating my mouth with his. I wrap my legs around his waist and he moves slowly, making sure I can feel every inch of his cock. Latino cock. Always been my preference.

I tighten the muscles in my ass and Gabriel moans into my mouth, fucking me even more intensely. The table is hitting the wall pretty hard, so Gabriel picks me up—all of me—and sits in the chair while he's still inside me.

"Glasses off," he commands. I almost immediately swipe my frames off my nose, but then stop.

"I want to see," I nod.

"Are you kidding me? You can't see at all without them?" Gabriel sighs.

"Don't patronize me," I snap. We can't even make it through sex without bickering for fuck's sake. Gabriel sighs again, gripping my ass. I think back to the way I rode my dildo in the bathroom and begin to shudder in excitement. I can work Gabriel over, definitely. I don't even bother starting slow, bouncing on him, head thrown back and my hands on his pecs. Oh god, I've been craving the real thing more than I thought. Feeling my thick, round cheeks slap and jiggle against Gabriel's thighs makes me think another orgasm might already be starting deep in my groin.

I even have Gabriel surprised; he eyes me in shock and awe, his mouth open in admiration. He doesn't have to say it, but he loves my waist (I'm guessing how thin it is compared to my chest and of course, hips) and he adds extra drive, lifting me and slamming me back down onto him. Fuck, he's so strong.

I'm making all sorts of 'ah' sounds, mostly desperate and whining, but that's how I know it's good. Gabriel's holding me close now, and I'm hardly doing the work. It's all him, thrusting up into my tight asshole with dominating control. He's whispering 'oh fuck yeah, oh FUCK yeah, Zeke', and then he smacks me. Hard but not stinging, right on my left ass-cheek. I cry out, and have to put my hand over my mouth. Oh my god. Unnhh, I want him to smack me over and over again. I feel like that barely timid college boy again, riding cock like it's a job. Getting that submissive rush when someone takes control of my body. I can taste the sweat from Gabriel's chest on my palm.

"Fuuuck, Gabe. Hit me. Hit me again," I gasp. Gabriel fulfills my wish, smacking my ass with both hands. My voice is caught in my throat on the impact, and all that sounds in the room is my ass smacking down on Gabriel's thighs again, and the soft slick of his shaft stretching me with every articulate thrust.

"I'm cumming," he growls all at once after a jerky movement. Sure enough, I feel the warm spurts of his jizz inside me in thick streams.

I don't even realize what's going on for a second, but then we both end up kissing like our lives depend on it.

Then all is quiet.

Quiet, that is, until I smack him across the face. "You didn't ask."

"What the—ask to what?!" Gabriel seethes.

"You came inside me? Seriously?" I snap. I must've smacked him hard; he's rubbing his cheek and looks like he wants to really hit me back. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm less drunk but still drunk. I also have ADHD. Surprise! I mean, you didn't need to know that. Okay... okay." I take a deep breath and wipe sweat off my forehead. My glasses are even fogged up a little. What the fuck, I had sex with my glasses on?

Wait. I had sex.

"Slow, alright. Stand up slow," Gabriel instructs. He grabs onto his member as I slowly lift myself off of him. I can feel his seed inside me, waiting to drip out. It's an uncomfortable feeling. "Okay, I'll help you."

"No, no. The bathroom is like, thirteen feet away," I nod.

"Are you going there naked? Because—"

I sigh exaggeratedly. "Stop arguing with me, Christ."

"You can't even walk in a straight line, Ezekiel. Good god, we already fucked, just let me help you, geezus," Gabriel pulls his briefs up and grabs a large wad of paper towels. I stand still and he comes behind me. "Now, just let go. I'll clean you up. And I'm sorry I didn't ask, Nancy," he says softly into my neck.

I let him kiss me.


Author's Note: this was a long chapter, and I hope you made it to the end! Let me know what you think of Gabriel, our new character. Also Ezekiel. Thank you for reading.

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Jul 18, 2018 in anal