When Amos had kissed his knuckles at the bar, Charles felt all the blood in his body rush to his face.

It looked like an innocent action - ridiculously old-fashioned - but it made sensory memories flood back from the night they had spent together.

Even his ears were burning. Amos held his gaze.

"If you want."

The corner of Amos's mouth quirked up slightly - Charles had never seen him smile in public, he realized - and nodded at Kit and Zach before heading past them into his office.

Zach whistled through his teeth, low.

When Amos had left Charles sat still for a moment, frozen, lips parted slightly.

What do I want?

It was a question he had asked himself more in the last few days than possibly in his entire life.

"I - I've - " He swallowed.

"I'll be right back," he said, mirroring Kit's words but not his cocksure tone. Charles sounded breathy to his own ears.

Stumbling from the chair, he followed Amos, hesitating before the black door - then pushing it open and stepping inside without knocking.

The minute he stepped in the door, strong arms caught Charles and pressed him up against it, warm lips on his as Charles's heart hammered in his chest.

"Dammit," Amos breathed, catching the nape of his neck with one hand and covering his mouth again.

Charles gasped into his mouth, revelling in the feel of him, hard and hot pressed along his entire front, his warm breath on his ear and neck, teeth dipping to scrape over his skin.

He poured himself into the kiss. Yes, this was why he had followed him in here even though he had looked so cold before, this feeling of being held in strong arms and protected from the world - of being the centre of attention, cherished, seen - 

How one man could put all that in a kiss, he'd never know.

But he gave himself over to it completely, and when Amos lifted him up the younger man instinctively wrapped his long legs around his hips, staring down at him.

Outside, in front of the others, the older, distinguished man had seemed so distant. Now he pinned Charles with his gaze, entirely present, and spoke in that low, gravelly voice that undid the engineer. 

"I was tired, annoyed, and unhappy that I wanted you despite all my rules against customers and alcoholics," he said, "...and my words were still unacceptable."

He was looking at Charles now, only at him, and the rest of the world seemed to slow, dull, fade away whenever he was the sole focus of those dark, warm eyes.

"I was wrong," Amos said. "Whatever my thoughts and opinions, I had no right to judge you or you situation. And even if you have a problem...that doesn't mean you're not worthy of respect. I'm sorry."

"I - " Charles had to clear his throat. "Thank you."

"In the future, I will try to treat you as you deserve. That being said..."

He leaned up slightly and Charles gulped, noticing that he had swayed forward too, and they were now much closer, lips inches apart. 

"If you still want to play this way, I'll show you what it's supposed to be like - me controlling you for your pleasure, and mine. But for that to work we have to talk. Properly."

"Over dinner?"

"If you want."

"The things you said about me - you were right..."

The arms around him tightened.

"It wasn't my place to say those things. And you seem to be trying."

I am. I'm trying. I just -

"You're sweet and kind."

"Don't let Kit hear you say that. He thinks I'm an idiot..."

"Mm, young Mr. Callaghan. I'd ask which one of you was older if he didn't have the face of a middle schooler. Protecting you as if you were his little brother."

"I'm a coward." A drunk. A bad guardian. "I'm useless..."

Amos took his hand, expression soft now that they were alone. "I was wrong to say harsh things to you before. I was too severe. But I believe in making amends."

Charle startled at the words, staring at him.

"Amos." He looked down shyly, fingers fiddling with the older man's shirt, and Amos smiled as if he was trying not to.

Suddenly the blond realized that he'd never seen Amos smile out in the bar. But here, when they were alone together...

Charles felt suddenly fiercely grateful that Amos didn't show this gentler side to others, that he was so reserved outside this room.

He wanted his commands, his caresses, his heated looks all to himself.

Never before had he felt possessive. He'd never felt like he had the right to. But Amos had this way of empowering him while accepting all the power he gave away...that made Charles feel alive and tingly all over.

It had to be too soon to feel that way. But he'd never felt anything like this heady rush, so how way he supposed to know what too soon was?

"Yes?"

"When you...told me that. It felt bad in a good way. I wanted you more."

"Oh?"

"It felt like you saw me - how I'd been wrong - and, then, you were severe and then - forgave me. Let me feel like I could - m-make amends..."

"Do you want that again?"

"Yes, please. Be - be severe with me."

"And then sweet?"

"Oh - um. That would be nice..." 

If I deserve it.

Amos kissed him. "Mhm, very nice." 

When he pressed him up against the door like this Charles had to look down at him instead of up, had to bend his neck to kiss him, felt him mouth at his neck. 

"Are marks alright with you?" he murmured.

Charles should probably - definitely - say no, but no-one had asked him that before, and now that he considered it the thought of not having marks showing, of not being able to look down at his body and blush and remember what he'd done - remember how someone had wanted him - and feel hot and ashamed and fiercely glad all at the same time, jumbled up - 

That thought made displeasure spike in him. He wanted marks.

Nodding, Charles pressed his throat into Amos's lips, felt his teeth nip and gasped softly, hips jerking forward. 

"Oh...ng, yes..."

Amos smiled at him, Charles's heart fluttering at the sight -  and then the softness bled out of his gaze and he grew still.

"Amenable to a little game, then?"

"Um, yes..." Did he dare ask? 

"...Go easy on me?" he squeaked. 

"You just asked me to be severe," Amos teased. But then he smiled, slowly, his eyes sweeping over Charles from head to toe. 

"This time," he promised, kissing his lips once more, nipping at his lip. 

Then he stepped back, setting him down on his feet, and his expression grew reserved again. Distant. Severe.

A little thrill of half fear and half anticipation raced through him.

"Take of you shirt and shoes and wait."

Ignoring Charles, he then walked back to his desk, hands in his pockets.

Charles couldn't help but watch the way his shirt stretched over his powerful shoulders, the way his pants outlined his ass when he walked.

He closed his mouth.

Amos took a seat and picked up his pen, flipping through the document in front of him, scribbling on it, signing and underlining.

Charles swallowed, hands hesitatingly going to his clothes, unbuttoning them, letting his shirt and undershirt drop to the floor, toeing out of his shoes, standing there in only his pants and socks, letting his just-long-enough-to-fall-into-his-eyes hair obscure what it could of his face.

With no alcohol to embolden him, he felt very unsure. He waited, squirming.

After a while, Charles shifted to his other foot, and the pen paused. 

"Not until you're told."

The blond stilled, feeling himself throb. He was still aroused from their heated kissing, and this treatment was not making his trousers any less tight.

Finally, when he closed his pleading eyes and just waited, head bowed, Amos looked up, regarding him. Charles heard him drop his pen.

"Come here."

The command rang out and Charles almost tripped forward, one leg half-asleep, stinging.

When he got to the desk, the blond paused. Should he go around it, unasked? Lean over it? Or... Amos gave him no clue, watching him.

Charles sank to his knees and crawled. 

His cheeks burned as he crawled in under the desk and traced light, trembling hands up the older man's powerful thighs, nuzzling his face along the inseam, pressing into the bulge there.

The gloom under the desk made him braver, let him lick over the fabric, feel the hardness there with his tongue.

Inhaling, he rubbed his face against it like an animal, letting out a soft, low sound.

"You really have no self-control, do you?"

Amos's chair rolled back and he caught the younger man's chin, bending it back so that he could look at him.

"Close you eyes."

Charles closed them immediately and heard a low chuckle.

"So trusting. I don't have a lot here in my desk...but I found one thing for you."

He held up something black and silky - a ribbon...?

"I'm going to blindfold you now."

That sent a twinge of anxiety through him, and Amos paused. 

"You have permission to take it off if at any point it makes you feel uncomfortable, without repercussions."

That made him relax.

Soft, stretchy fabric slipped over his eyes, tightened, tied into a knot at the back of his head. 

It covered his eyes completely, blocking out the light. Amos slipped two fingers inside the bind, checking.

"Comfortable?"

Charles nodded. He felt a thumb press into his lower lip and opened his mouth obediently, expecting something for him the suck.

But then strong hands gripped him under his arms and Amos lifted Charles up into his lap, long gangly limbs and all -

"Oof - "

And kissed his open mouth, and oh, he couldn't see, but he could feel their tongues sliding together, could feel the hands on him. 

He was usually self-conscious undressed - he never worked out and had a fairly youthful body - nothing like the muscles under his hands now, making his mouth water as he pushed the suit jacket off Amos's shoulders. 

Rather than make him uncomfortable, the blindfold actually made him feel less anxious, braver, and he pressed himself closer to the other man, spreading his thighs to fit their hips closer together.

He couldn't see, so he didn't worry about what he must look like. 

The low chuckle that brought forth rolled across his skin, making him squirm, tingles racing up his spine. 

Just the knowledge that Amos could see him like this, but he had no idea what the other man looked like, was doing... maybe it should be scary, but with Amos, he felt anticipation instead. 

"Greedy..." Charles felt him lean closer, hand fisting in his hair to bend his head and spine backwards, breath trailing down his bare chest, "Good."

Hooking an arm under his knee, Amos hiked him up and lowered him down onto the desk, while Charles heart fluttered at still being sightless.

Hands swiftly undid hid fly and yanked his trousers and underwear down, freeing his hard prick and sending it slapping against his belly.

"Ah!"

The cool air felt wonderful and torturous at the same time.

"Hands over you head. And don't move them."

Charles threw his hands up and caught the edge of the desk by pure chance, gripping it tightly.

And it was a good thing that he did, because in the next moment a warm, slick heat engulfed his cock and he shouted in pleasure and surprise, bucking up instinctively.

That earned him a firm grip pressing his hips down, ant that wonderful heat withdrawn.

"Do that again and I'll stop."

"No, please, I won't - Ah! - "

He moaned aloud, cheeks burning underneath the blindfold, holding still as Amos worked him slowly, tongue sliding up his shaft to tease along his slit.

"Ah-ah-oh -"

Blindfolded, it was all he could feel, hips pressed down and arms tensed and grasping the wood with a white-knuckled grip.

The bar owner blew cold air onto his prick, teasing him, holding him down as the younger man squirmed.

"You sound wonderful. But remember that there are guests on the other side of that door. Your young friend, for example."

Charles gasped, struggling to contain his moans. He was sure the music he could hear out there was loud enough to cover the noise they were making, but the very idea -

Amos worked a slick finger into his ass at the same time he swallowed him down again.

"God - !"

The blasphemy slipped out and he bit his tongue, tasting salty, metallic blood, trying to buck up, any moment now his hands would slip -

He let go of the desk with one hand, shoving his knuckles into his mouth to keep the sounds muffled.

Over and over the bar owner - this man he barely knew, and would let do anything he wanted to his body, who his nephew had had some pretty reasonable concerns about - brought him to the brink of orgasm and then squeezed his base, stilled, snatching his release away. Charles whined around his fist, struggling uselessly to thrust up into that hot mouth. 

Finally, pulling off him with a slick 'pop', Amos let Charles sag back, panting. 

His legs spasmed, trapped in his bunched-up trousers. 

He felt them being lifted up, both of them hooked over a firm, wide shoulder and pressed forward as Charles felt Amos stand up, lean over him.

Slickness pressed between his stretched, trapped thighs and then the bigger man's long, thick cock was sliding in between them to slot next to his own, sliding over his tight, drawn-up balls and along his hard prick. It was an amazing feeling.

"Oh - " he gasped, "That's - oh - "

The hot sliding, the way he was handled, bent in two, the skin and fabric against him, all the sensations heightened by not being able to see - 

Amos reached one hand around to wrap around both their cocks, moving slowly up and down. Charles's words dissolved into meaningless syllables. 

At the same time he leaned forward, pushing the slender man's legs towards his pale chest relentlessly so that Amos's hips pushed against his ass, making his thighs burn just shy of painfully.

The bar owner reached up his other strong hand to pull the blond's knuckles out of his mouth and catch both of his thin wrists just as Charles lost his grip on the wood. 

Kicking his legs did nothing, wrapped in stiff fabric and bent up as they were. He wasn't bound in any way but he couldn't move at all, couldn't see, and he knew how easily Amos could pull back and thrust inside him instead. 

Why didn't he?

Moaning again, Charles struggled against the other man's grip, focusing on the slick slide of their skin together, of Amos's firm grip, finally speeding up and leaning down to take his nipple between his teeth - 

"Ah - I - please - "

"Go ahead, dove."

"Please - ah - want you - "

"You have me."

" - Inside me, please - "

His tailbone pressing uncomfortably into the desk, Amos hot and hard against him - he wanted - Charles had never felt so greedy before.

Hunter used to tell him he was too needy, and Charles had tried to stop, be still and passive, but it was coming back now, and Amos seemed to almost encourage him. It was a heady rush, begging and receiving, being indulged.

Amos made him ask, made him work for it, even as he took care of him and held him in the palm of his hand, blind and immobilised. 

The other man stilled, causing Charles to whine and toss his head from side to side. He heard and exhale that could have been a strained chuckle.

"You're really something, baby."

A hand reached out to cup his face, wiping at a wetness Charles hadn't felt was there.

"You realise that you're crying again? Give me you colour."

"Green. Please, I'll be good...I just want your cock..."

Amos groaned. "You're more open with me when I've got you like this. I thought it was the alcohol, last time."

Well, maybe Charles was a bit cock-drunk at this point. He felt disoriented - how long had Amos been teasing him? His own dick throbbed and twitched, now that the other man had stopped moving.

But before he could more than gasp two lubed fingers were pressing between his asscheeks and then inside, impatient, making him gasp - but Charles felt impatient too, ready to burst - 

He was too far gone to feel apprehensive about the pain, his cock throbbed at the sensation of being breached, filled, and he moaned louder, deep in his throat. 

The digits pumped once, twice, avoiding the one spot he most wanted them, and then withdrew.

"Ready?"

The young scientist only whined and tried to press back on his hand, yes he was ready, he'd never been so ready - 

"S-stop teasing - !"

Amos lined up his cock, hard and now covered in a pre-lubed condom, and fucked right in with one smooth thrust. 

Charles moaned, back arching, wrists straining against the other man's bruising grip, and felt his cock throb again.

"Please fuck me - " he babbled, noises turing incomprehensible as the taller man did just that, yanking his hips back and thrusting forward, burying himself to the hilt. 

A jolt shot through Charles and he writhed, all restraint gone, trying to push back on that cock, his lower abdomen tensing as heat pooled there, his leaking cock slapping against his pale stomach at each violent thrust.

Offering no reprieve, Amos took him hard and fast, letting go of his wrists to lift his hips up and angle him better, thrusting deeper, both of Charles's long legs still slung over his shoulder and the blond couldn't possibly last like this -

"Don't - don't stop - " he managed to stutter and then Amos nailed his sweet spot one more time and then his body tensed and his back arched up off the desk, 

"Ah!!!" eyes rolling back as he came hard, white ribbons squirting up, trembling as the other man slowed down, gently fucking him through the aftershocks until oversensitivity made him whimper and the larger man stilled, made as if to draw back.

Panting, sweating, Charles grabbed for his shirt and held on to two fistfuls of it, still shaking.

"No," he pleaded, "Don't go. Don't pull out."

"You just came, sweetie."

"It's not too much...I wanna come again. Don't stop. I can take it - I'll be good - please, Amos."

He made his best puppy-dog eyes even though he was kind of starting to see double. But he wanted this - needed this. If Amos was too kind to him, he wouldn't feel better. And he didn't want it to end, wanted to keep feeling him...

He'd just come, but it didn't feel like enough. Charles wanted more, he wanted to feel Amos.

"Please, I want it. Make me come again?"

He gasped as the other man started moving again instead.

"Good boy."

It took a long time, Amos fucking him through the overstimulation, until he cried and said 'green' again, until he was hard again, a sweating, gasping mess.

How long had passed, Charles wondered? What would Kit think...?

But then Amos hit his prostate once more and he lost his train of thought.

Blindly, he reached for his aching dick but felt his hand slapped away and sobbed in frustration and pleasure, feeling himself climb higher, reaching crest. 

"Aaah, ngh, ah - please - "

Amos pulled his trousers and boxers off of one foot, spreading his legs and sitting down, bringing Charles's writhing body down onto his lap again, the new angle nailing his prostate.

"Baby, come for me."

That voice.

"You've been so good for me, dove, I want to feel you come around me now, I know you can - "

Throwing his head back, Charles felt that cock stretch him even further and a hand on him, working him fast, rough and slick with his own come from before, and he came again at that thought, stars exploding on the inside of the dark blindfold.

He clenched down and heard a grunt as the other man thrust in a few more times and then followed him over the edge.

As he panted, clutching at the muscled arms that held him and coming down from his climax, he felt gentle hands tug the blindfold away.

Blinking, dazed, Charles looked past the honey-blond strands of sweat-damp hair hanging into his eyes and focused on Amos's dark, handsome face. His full, inviting lips.

Charles leaned forward and kissed him, slow, sensual, sloppy. He had no idea how much time passed before they broke apart.

"Mhm..." he hummed, eyes closed.

"Mhm, indeed," came the amused reply, and those strong arms wound around him to gently adjust his seat, lifting him, and then setting him down again to rub his back and his sore thighs.

Until then, Charles hadn't even noticed how much his tailbone ached. Turns out getting fucked on top of a desk wasn't very comfortable - but he'd been too distracted to notice.

"So how about that dinner?"

Charles laughed, holding onto the other man's shirt and wriggling his long legs to get the blood flowing back into them. He was still breathless, fucked-out, lightheaded. 

Giddy.

Then he sighed, wanting to stay exactly where he was and just rest, but knowing that he had to get up.

He was hungry. Spending the evening with Amos, eating, maybe sleeping in his arms again...sounded wonderful.

The older man opened his mouth to speak, and just then Charles's phone buzzed. It must have fallen out of his pants pocket earlier and lay on the floor at their feet, facing up.

A text message lit up the screen saver. When Charles saw the name of the sender he felt cold all over.

Only two words, glowing up at him.

I'm back.

Hunter.