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The Boss's Obsession (LustfulSins&CrescentBlade)

Archer barely gets a good look at what the men in the club are doing, quickly distracted by Viktor himself. Drugs are not unfamiliar to him—he’s done his fair share of them, enough to know that he’s not too fond of being high—but he also doesn’t believe there’s anything more going on than a little bit of shared weed. Everyone smoked weed these days. It was as common as tobacco and alcohol. The club kitchen is empty and a little different than what he was expecting, but he happily takes a seat on a rotating stool. Sitting cross legged on purpose, as it stretched the material of his shorts against his groin, and resting his elbows on the counter.

“I’d love a fruit smoothie, if you wouldn’t mind,” he hummed, as that was one of the few snacks he allowed himself to have before a proper lunch. Archer watched what he ate and drank very closely most days, even if he burned most of it off while dancing. “Mango, if you have it. Or banana if you don’t. I don’t usually eat much outside of proper meals. You know, lunch, breakfast and dinner.”
 
Viktor nods as he moves around the kitchen, humming. A smoothie sounds like a good idea. From the fridge, he pulls out milk, yogurt, and strawberries, a banana off the counter, and a plastic jar of protein powder from a cupboard labeled with his name. His skill with the paring knife is impressive, as he slices the fruit directly into two separate blender cups. Then the yogurt and milk, and protein powder into the strawberry cup. He pauses, glancing at Archer.

"You want protein in yours? It's vanilla flavoured powder, but it can make smoothies a bit grainy." Viktor sets the jar down, blending his own smoothie while he waits for Archer's answer.
 
“Sure. I could use the protein,” Archer says with a nod of his head, watching the other man put together the smoothies from his place at the isle. If he was going to eat outside his regular meals, he might as well make his food a little more nutritious. Besides, he didn’t mind the grainy texture of protein powder like many people did. As the other was preparing his snack, he checked his messages on his phone, fighting down a smile at the words on the screen. One of the other dancers here at Whiskey Rose, whom he was beginning to enjoy talking to, sent him the theme list for the rest of his shifts this week and which ones would simply be normal. Some of them were bound to be a little sexy, but more than a couple made him chuckle. Odds were that Viktor was more than aware of the themes picked out, since he ran the place.

“I guess tonight's fairytale themed,” he laughs out loud to Viktor, setting his phone to the side to give him a cheeky grin as he took the straw of his smoothie into his mouth. “Should I be a sexy Red Riding Hood or a slutty Cheshire Cat?”
 
Viktor nods, blending Archer's smoothie and adding a straw. He sets it in front of the redhead, then leans his elbows on the isle, standing on the other side. He chooses not to have a straw, but enjoys watching Archer with the straw in his mouth.

"Fairytale, huh? Well, you should definitely do slutty Cheshire Cat. That way, we can find you a tail for me to play with afterward." Viktor grins suggestively, taking a gulp of his strawberry smoothie.
 
Archer almost spits out his smoothie as he laughs. Slightly embarrassed, cheeks tinted pink, but more than a little amused. “You want a tail to play with later, hm? Then I guess I’ll go with the Cheshire Cat,” he agreed, comfortable and surprisingly happy to be there. Viktor was very forward with his flirtatious comments, more than most men would be, but that was something he was growing to like about him. With a playful wink, he laughs, “I love to play games as much as the next kitty. Especially ones with rope and yarn.”

Two could play at being flirty and Viktor was bound to appreciate his participation more than other guys would, too. Most men wanted to do the flirting, but would rather not listen Archer day such things back—something or other about his mouth being more useful for things that didn’t involve talking. At least Viktor was interested in more than just having his dick sucked. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t we talk about that? The whole—” He waved a hand between them. “—thing between us? Limits, safe words, that whole deal. Kind of important to know what I can say other than ‘stop’, ‘I can’t’ and ‘no’.”
 
Viktor laughs at Archer's reaction, a full, genuine laughter. It's something very few people have heard. Usually when Viktor laughs, his men know it's not a good thing. Ropes and yarn, huh? Viktor would have to send someone out to fetch some that wouldn't cut up Archer's pretty skin.

When Archer talks about the thing between them and limits and safewords, Viktor takes his time answering. He's trying to think of the best way to word his thoughts without scaring the boy. "Well, I was going to let you settle into the idea that I want you completely. I've made it clear I don't intend to let you go, yet I don't want to frighten you with subjects such as a dominant and submissive relationship."
 
Viktor’s laugh is wonderful. There’s nothing about it that the redhead fears, for the sound of it is pleasant and warm in his ears. He enjoys hearing it, the same as he enjoyed the sound of his groans the night before.

Archer mulls over the other man’s words for a few long, quiet moments. Sipping his drink and trying to properly word his response. “It doesn’t frighten me. Not really. It’s just...different than what I’m used to,” he admits with a shrug. “I’m used to guys just going straight for what they want, you know? They ask me first if they want to do something a little different, pick a random safe word, and that’s it.” There wasn’t a lot of tact or consideration it came to most men he’d slept with. Certainly not the ones his own age, who were either too inexperienced or impatient to check in with him first.
 
Viktor tips his head back and dooms the remainder of his smoothie. Then he rinses it and sets it in the sink. "I think by now you realize I'm not most men. I can assure you, I will always be forward with you. It's not in my nature to dance around what I want. However, there's a difference in a safeword for a hookup, and safewords for a more permanent dynamic."

Viktor walks around to stand behind Archer, sliding his arms around the boy's waist. His chin rests on Archer's shoulder. "I want you to be mine, permanently. My submissive, Archer."
 
Archer’s eyes fall shut as he leans back into the other man’s chest, safe within the space of his arms. His words bring a pleasant shiver down his spine, how possessive and genuine he sounds when he says that he wants Archer. Not as a quick fuck, but to be his permanently. His submissive. “I want to try to be yours,” he admits, even if he never would have two days ago. It feels easier after last night.

“I don’t know a lot about being a submissive,” he confesses. “I’ve never been in that kind of dynamic before. Not for longer than one night.”
 
Viktor's hands wander, as if he can never get enough of touching Archer. Fingers slip up under the redhead's shirt, stroking the skin of his stomach. "You would be mine entirely, not just in the bedroom. Mine to command, to touch, to please. You would obey me, yet as the submissive, you would be the one freely giving up control to me. Safewords are not just for in the bedroom. If we are in a social situation that makes you uncomfortable, a safeword would have me pulling you away."

Viktor mouths at Archer's throat, placing hot open mouth kisses even as he speaks. "You willingly give me control of your life, of your body, and in return I keep you happy and well. There will be situations in which I cannot simply step away, and you will have to endure some discomfort, but you will always be protected."
 
The relationship that Viktor wants is unlike any that Archer has ever experienced personally before. He hears about them from friends and others all the time, but to willingly dive into one is a different story. It’s new, it’s different, and it could be unwise to trust Viktor so much. Fingers stroke the skin beneath his shirt, eliciting tiny waves of shivers, in contrast with the hot lips that brush over his throat. “I trust you,” he says and he knows he shouldn’t, but he does. He shouldn’t want to give up control of his life, his body, to anyone—but he wants to. He really does. To know what it’s like not to have to be in control all the time. “I want to give you control.”

He tilts his head a little, baring his throat, silently asking for more of that mouth. That too is something he wants. For Viktor to touch him, please him, in any way he’s willing to. Slips his own hands down the man’s arms, then to his waist. “Please,” he adds and he knows by now that Viktor likes to be asked first. “Show me how to be yours.”​
 
Viktor practically purrs when Archer agrees. For all that the boy was resistant two days prior, he's falling into Viktor's hands like putty. Hands that dip down into the front of Archer's pants. Fingers don't hesitate to stroke the redhead, while Viktor presses against Archer's backside on the barstool.

With Archer's head tilting, Viktor complies by biting and sucking the junction if his neck and shoulder. Another hickey to add to Archer's collection. Ideas start to spring into Viktor's mind. The counter is waist height to him; Viktor could spread Archer's knees on two barstools and bend him over the counter.
 
Archer surprises himself by not feeling the need to be purposefully disobedient. Last night he remembers how badly that went, how he didn’t get what he wanted, and how Viktor didn’t give in. It was enough to make him realize that he couldn’t get his way by being bratty and stubborn. The strong, warm hand that strokes his cock is only there because he’s asked Viktor nicely for it. Combining with the teeth biting into his skin, both have Archer shifting his hips forward.

He’s thinking something similar, that he wants Viktor to bend him over right here in the kitchen and fuck him. Make him feel the same as he had last night. “Viktor,” he hums, lowering his head to kiss at the man’s jaw. “I want you. Please.”​
 
Viktor growls, turning Archer around to face the counter. His hands lift the boy up, hips pressing against Archer. "Put your kneels on the barstools, Archer." Once the redhead has complied, Viktor's hands bend him over the counter before pulling down the back of his pants, leaving his ass bare.

Preparation is somewhat brief, saliva coated fingers sliding in to stroke Archer's inner walls. Viktor is impatient right now, and it shows. But it's enough to slick Archer for the thick cock Viktor offers. He groans as he buries to the hilt, but there's no waiting. No adjustment period before his hips buck hard, pressing Archer's hips against the edge of the counter.
 
Archer whines, a low and quiet sound as he obeys, getting up on his knees across the barstools beneath him. The time between Viktor tugging his pants down and getting a wet finger inside him was practically nonexistent. He moves back against each movement of those fingers, which didn’t linger for long. In what feels like only minutes, the thick length of Viktor’s cock is pushing inside him, and he breathes out a whimper. There’s no time to adjust before he’s being fucked, hips pressing almost painfully against the counter.

He leans his head back, tries to meet the other man’s thrusts, clenching down on the hard dick he’s slowly coming to crave. His hands scramble to find Viktor’s arms, to hold onto them, nails digging into his skin. “Ah, Viktor,” he pants, head fuzzy. He was rambling, though the words he spoke were true. “You feel so good. No one fucks me like you do.”​
 
Viktor smirks at the whines and whimpers, leaning into his thrusts. His left arm moves to the counter while the right wraps around Archer's waist to support him. Archer's words make him chuckle. "There is no one like me."

Viktor bites at the side of Archer's neck, hips bucking hard. He doesn't seem to care that they're fucking in the kitchen, with a door that doesn't lock. A door anyone could come into at any moment. In fact, the kitchen door does swing open, and a conversation between two men is quickly cut off at the site of their boss buried deep in Archer's ass. A pair of curses sound, followed by feet scrambling to leave. Viktor does little more than growl, not even turning his head to spare them a glance.
 
There was no one like Viktor. Archer can’t get think of a single man like the one behind him, pounding into him with reckless abandon and making his entire body sing in pleasure. No one else took care of him after the deed was done, no one else wants to make Archer theirs for the foreseeable future. “Fuck,” he moans out the word, hips moving against the hard edge of the counter.

He’s barely aware of the door to the kitchen swinging open, of the men who catch in full what Viktor is doing and how it affects Archer. His face is burning as he briefly makes eye contact, but the tip of Viktor’s cock against his prostate distracts him. It’s the last touch he needs to bring him higher up, so close to edge. Not quite there, because he knows now that he needs permission. He doesn’t want to wait, wants to come right now, but part of him knows how much better it will be if he waits. “Victor, please,” he begs, needing a hand on his own dick or just a little more pressure, wanting to be good so that he can get what he needs.​
 
Archer may be close, but Viktor isn't quite there yet. His stamina means it takes longer for him to reach climax. So when he hears Archer beg, that arm around the boy's waist tightens. "No, not yet." Three simple words, but the firm command of them is like an end to a discussion.

Almost another three minutes pass, though to Archer, no doubt it would seem far longer. Especially with the power Viktor is putting behind each thrust. Finally, he shudders, burying his cock. "Come with me, Archer." A release command of sorts, uttered into Archer's ear. Viktor's hips jerk tightly, and his seed spills into the redhead's body like a claim of liquid heat.
 
Archer makes a small noise of disappointment, but he doesn’t offer the man any attitude over it. He wants to argue, naturally wants to take without permission, yet he doesn’t. Knows it will be better if he can just manage to control himself for a little longer. Liquid heat pours into his body, wordless permission to get what he wants, and the wet sound of their hips together is all he needs.

He spills across the kitchen counter with a choked groan, cock twitching against the slick surface, arms shaking as he holds himself up. It’s so hard to catch his breath, drowning in the feeling of being so full. The soreness will set in as soon as the blissful haze wears off. For now, his muscles are boneless and relaxed. “Fuck,” he mutters, his vocabulary limited by his own brain. He collapses back against the other man, panting and light headed. “That was hot. Would’ve been hotter if they didn’t walk in on us.”​
 
Viktor sighs heavily, though it's one of contentment. When Archer falls back against him, Viktor wraps both arms around the redhead's waist and brings Archer's feet to the floor. However, this has the added effect of seating Archer heavily on Viktor's cock still buried inside, due to their height difference. This creates a very firm pressure inside Archer, to the point there's a very faint bulging of the boy's abdomen. Viktor is well aware of what he's doing, but holds Archer where he's set nonetheless. "That's what we get for fucking in the kitchen. You made a mess of the counter, Archer."
 
Archer thinks, foolishly, that this will be it. They’ve both hit their climax and he’s still in the mindset that doing so is the end of things. However, when Viktor helps him down to his feet, he doesn’t pull out. As soon as he’s on his feet again, there’s an intense pressure against that bundle of nerves inside him. It’s so firm that it makes him shudder and twitch, has him scrambling to hold onto the barstool for support. He can feel Viktor’s cock beneath his skin and he just came, but he’s so overstimulated that he feels like he could spill all over again.

“You like my mess,” he says, but it’s too quiet and breathy to hold much bite. He tries to move to relieve the pressure and only makes it worse by changing the angle. Now, if only teasingly, his attitude comes back a little. “Oh god. Viktor, do you want me to make another mess?”​
 
Viktor only smirks, rubbing one hand across the faint bulging of Archer's abdomen. It had been Archer falling back and down against him after all, that had inevitably caused his current pressured predicament. "You're the one who wanted down off the barstools instead of up off my cock, Archer."

Viktor's words are true, and he's using it almost as a reminder that just because they came, doesn't mean Archer is at the end of whatever session they may be involved in. And they may not have gone over the intricate details of what their dynamic would be like, but that doesn't stop Viktor from delivering firm, yet harmless hints at what may occur. "If you want off my cock, you wait until I pull away first. Or you ask nicely."
 
Archer could very well ask nicely. He was capable of doing so, did it last night and just now, but he’s curious. About their new dynamic and what it entails. Waiting would consist of this same feeling, the constant pressure that kept him from fully calming down and made his soft cock perk up slowly but surely. Viktor could make him wait a few minutes or an hour. It was a guessing game. A third option pops into his head, one fueled by disobedience and cheekiness. He wants to be obedient and listen, but naturally, he’s curious about what happens if he doesn’t. Not from stubbornness or refusal to admit what he wants, but because he’s feeling naughty and playful.

“Mm, I don’t want either of those,” He says, using the barstool he’s holding to shift his hips and pull away just far enough so that he can move back once more. A slick slide of their hips, made awkward by their height difference. His muscles clench, the touch sensitive nerves making his head spin. Archer was asking for trouble with the way he looks over his shoulder at Viktor, all big eyes and pouty lips. “What happens if I don’t feel like listening?”​
 
Viktor immediately catches onto what Archer is doing the moment the boy pulls away an inch, just to push back again. His response is to shift his grip to directly on Archer's hips, preventing that movement. In the same moment, Viktor rises up on his toes, instantly increasing both the pressures and the bulge of Archer's abdomen. "Disobedience results in situational punishment. In this situation, you want to use the depth of my cock to your advantage, to tease me. But you can't do that if you have no space to move, nor the height to get relief from pressure."

Viktor is so calm as he does this, so calm in his words despite the way his cock is rapidly returning to full hardness within Archer. That alone makes it ever more difficult for Archer to move at all away from the internal pressure. Viktor uses this to his own advantage, rocking back and forth on his toes, buried seemingly impossibly deep. Archer's bulged abdomen moves along with the rocking motion.
 
Viktor handles the disobedience so well that Archer knows he fucked up the second those hands come to grip his hips, to prevent him from moving. There’s no way to relieve the pressure now, no way to tease Viktor or even pretend that he has the upper hand. He’s stuck, between the barstool and Viktor’s cock, with nowhere to go. It almost hurt when he put his hand on his abdomen, to feel the bulge of the other man’s dick inside of him.

Nothing is hotter than seeing Viktor’s erection move through his body, peeking down to see how his skin stretches over it, but the pressure is too much. It’s too soon, the tiny movements almost hurt. He turns his head to rest it against the broad chest behind him, unable to get a good angle to kiss him or tease him in any way. He wants to disobey to see what it gets him, but he also wants the satisfaction of being good. It’s a tough struggle that he ultimately gives up on. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, one hand moving to grasp at Viktor’s arm. “I’ll be good, I promise, please.”​
 
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