[Fic] Office Romance
Jul. 8th, 2010 08:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeTitle: Office Romance
Fandom: The Losers
Characters: Aisha/Clay
Word Count: 850~
Rating: R
Summary: Clay and Aisha pretend to be just plain office folk for a day.
A/N: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo "Costumes">
"This was a bad idea."
Aisha looked up, blinked, and had to look again. For a second there she literally hadn't recognized him.
His hair was neatly combed and straightened and gelled back, he was absolutely shaven. Down to the skin; if she touched his cheek she had the feeling her fingers would caress smooth skin with not a trace of stubble. He was wearing a suit of deep blue with charcoal tie, the only trace of his old wardrobe present was the white shirt. He looked groomed. He looked businesslike and, of all things, bland.
He also looked very uncomfortable. "What?"
Her mouth twitched for a moment while she tried not to laugh. "You look…" She couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing quite summed up the visual dissonance she was experience.
"Go on, say it."
"Different." She wasn't going to laugh. Really. "You look different."
"I look like…" He couldn't come up with anything, either. She turned away so she didn't laugh at least to his face. "Yeah, laugh it up, babe, you're going in with me."
"What?"
"Uh-huh." Clay smirked, going over to the table and brushing aside a couple of blueprints to reveal a garment bag. In it, she saw as he unzipped it, was a dress suit obviously tailored to her size, in deep blue and charcoal gray. She eyed him suspiciously. He just grinned that big, shit-eating grin that looked even more ridiculous without the scruff. "You get to be my secretary."
She found somewhere to hit him where the bruise wouldn't show.
Somehow, Aisha had expected corporate life to be more... exciting.
She crashed Clay's "office" from a lack of anything else to do, after turning custody of the mark over to the other team for a half hour break. She'd relieve them later; no point in all of them being bored out of their minds while they waited for the party threatening their mark to make their move.
Clay looked up, startled, as she came in. Some of the confusion left his face when she locked the door, though the inquiry remained. "Yes, Miss Fox?"
"I'm going to kill Jensen for sticking me with that name," she told him. But she smiled as she strutted towards him, slipping between him and the desk as he rolled his chair back to give her room. "We've got thirty minutes of free time before we're back on duty. Did you have anything for me, Mr. Wolfe?"
"Well, now that you mention it..." His voice had sunk to a very un-corporate like growl, sounding more like her lover and less like some sort of paper pusher. She was a little relieved at that. The complete lack of facial scruff and utter scrubbed-clean-ness of him was a good disguise, but it was also a little unnerving. "I do got some affairs I think could use some special handling."
"Well, you know, I do have a delicate touch…" She stepped between his knees, nudging them apart with her legs. His eyes trailed down to the hem of her skirt and back up again. "And I work well under pressure."
She was close enough that he could reach up and start undoing the buttons on her blouse. And he did it slowly, popping them one at a time with a lecherous smirk and a gleam in his dark eyes. "Just so happens that I'm under some pressure right now you could help with."
His hands slid around her hips and pulled her closer, and this was all Clay. She smirked at him. "Why, Mr. Wolfe. Behavior like that could get you a scandalous harassment lawsuit."
"Guess I'd better earn it, then, huh?"
Business attire skirts, Aisha learned, did not hike up so readily as the more flowing ones she preferred on the rare occasions that she did wear skirts. Belts were much less complicated when they were simple canvas and you could just cut them off. Office chairs with full and rounded arms made straddling his lap difficult, and her cheap pantyhose tore if you so much as looked at it roughly.
All that aside, the desk was just wide enough for her to stretch her arms and dig her fingers under the edge as he pounded into her.
Twenty seven minutes and thirty nine seconds later they'd somehow managed to clean themselves up, tuck themselves back into their outfits, and look at least somewhat presentable. The discarded condom was safely tucked between layers of vending machine snacks and useless forms. Her hair was neat and tidy again and while he hadn't managed to keep up the nicely groomed look very long, his dark curls were at least more neatly combed. She stole a kiss as she smoothed down her skirt, still feeling overcharged but at least this time in the good way. "Stop smirking. Someone really will think I should file a harassment suit."
He just grinned wider. "I got a better idea. Next time we got to get all dressed up like this, you do the harassing."
Fandom: The Losers
Characters: Aisha/Clay
Word Count: 850~
Rating: R
Summary: Clay and Aisha pretend to be just plain office folk for a day.
A/N: Written for
kink_bingo "Costumes">"This was a bad idea."
Aisha looked up, blinked, and had to look again. For a second there she literally hadn't recognized him.
His hair was neatly combed and straightened and gelled back, he was absolutely shaven. Down to the skin; if she touched his cheek she had the feeling her fingers would caress smooth skin with not a trace of stubble. He was wearing a suit of deep blue with charcoal tie, the only trace of his old wardrobe present was the white shirt. He looked groomed. He looked businesslike and, of all things, bland.
He also looked very uncomfortable. "What?"
Her mouth twitched for a moment while she tried not to laugh. "You look…" She couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing quite summed up the visual dissonance she was experience.
"Go on, say it."
"Different." She wasn't going to laugh. Really. "You look different."
"I look like…" He couldn't come up with anything, either. She turned away so she didn't laugh at least to his face. "Yeah, laugh it up, babe, you're going in with me."
"What?"
"Uh-huh." Clay smirked, going over to the table and brushing aside a couple of blueprints to reveal a garment bag. In it, she saw as he unzipped it, was a dress suit obviously tailored to her size, in deep blue and charcoal gray. She eyed him suspiciously. He just grinned that big, shit-eating grin that looked even more ridiculous without the scruff. "You get to be my secretary."
She found somewhere to hit him where the bruise wouldn't show.
Somehow, Aisha had expected corporate life to be more... exciting.
She crashed Clay's "office" from a lack of anything else to do, after turning custody of the mark over to the other team for a half hour break. She'd relieve them later; no point in all of them being bored out of their minds while they waited for the party threatening their mark to make their move.
Clay looked up, startled, as she came in. Some of the confusion left his face when she locked the door, though the inquiry remained. "Yes, Miss Fox?"
"I'm going to kill Jensen for sticking me with that name," she told him. But she smiled as she strutted towards him, slipping between him and the desk as he rolled his chair back to give her room. "We've got thirty minutes of free time before we're back on duty. Did you have anything for me, Mr. Wolfe?"
"Well, now that you mention it..." His voice had sunk to a very un-corporate like growl, sounding more like her lover and less like some sort of paper pusher. She was a little relieved at that. The complete lack of facial scruff and utter scrubbed-clean-ness of him was a good disguise, but it was also a little unnerving. "I do got some affairs I think could use some special handling."
"Well, you know, I do have a delicate touch…" She stepped between his knees, nudging them apart with her legs. His eyes trailed down to the hem of her skirt and back up again. "And I work well under pressure."
She was close enough that he could reach up and start undoing the buttons on her blouse. And he did it slowly, popping them one at a time with a lecherous smirk and a gleam in his dark eyes. "Just so happens that I'm under some pressure right now you could help with."
His hands slid around her hips and pulled her closer, and this was all Clay. She smirked at him. "Why, Mr. Wolfe. Behavior like that could get you a scandalous harassment lawsuit."
"Guess I'd better earn it, then, huh?"
Business attire skirts, Aisha learned, did not hike up so readily as the more flowing ones she preferred on the rare occasions that she did wear skirts. Belts were much less complicated when they were simple canvas and you could just cut them off. Office chairs with full and rounded arms made straddling his lap difficult, and her cheap pantyhose tore if you so much as looked at it roughly.
All that aside, the desk was just wide enough for her to stretch her arms and dig her fingers under the edge as he pounded into her.
Twenty seven minutes and thirty nine seconds later they'd somehow managed to clean themselves up, tuck themselves back into their outfits, and look at least somewhat presentable. The discarded condom was safely tucked between layers of vending machine snacks and useless forms. Her hair was neat and tidy again and while he hadn't managed to keep up the nicely groomed look very long, his dark curls were at least more neatly combed. She stole a kiss as she smoothed down her skirt, still feeling overcharged but at least this time in the good way. "Stop smirking. Someone really will think I should file a harassment suit."
He just grinned wider. "I got a better idea. Next time we got to get all dressed up like this, you do the harassing."