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it’s one of those nights where matt’s locked in at his desk, headset on, shoulders tense, fingers flying over the keyboard. he’s been grinding this round for twenty minutes, hyper-focused, barely blinking.
and chris decides that’s the perfect time to be unbearable.
he starts subtle. spinning slowly in matt’s desk chair when matt leans forward. nudging his knee against matt’s thigh. whispering commentary about the game like he knows what he’s talking about.
“you missed that.”
“that was bad.”
“are you even good at this?”
matt doesn’t respond. just a sharp inhale through his nose.
so chris escalates.
he rests his chin on matt’s shoulder, talking directly into his ear. he drapes himself half over matt’s back, dead weight, making it harder for him to move his mouse.
“pay attention to me,” chris mutters, fingers tapping against matt’s ribs. “you’ve been on this thing forever.”
“chris,” matt warns, not looking away from the screen.
that should be enough. it isn’t.
chris nips at his shoulder through his shirt. laughs when matt jerks. reaches down and nudges the mouse on purpose.
matt dies in the game.
there’s a long pause.
the room goes quiet except for the faint game audio in his headset.
matt slowly sets the mouse down.
he turns in his chair, grabs chris by the hips, and pulls him forward so he’s standing between his knees. not rough enough to hurt — just firm enough that chris stumbles and grabs matt’s shoulders to steady himself.
“you are being a fucking menace,” matt says evenly.
chris just grins, breath a little quick now. mission accomplished.
“what? you love me.”
matt’s hand slides to the back of his neck, fingers curling there. steady pressure. grounding.
“you can’t sit still for ten minutes?” matt asks. “is that it? you get bratty the second i’m not looking at you?”
chris shrugs, smug but already softer.
matt studies him for a second, then stands. taller. calmer than he was a second ago.
“fine,” he says. “you wanna act like a puppy? go sit on the bed.”
chris blinks. “…what?”
“on the bed,” matt repeats, guiding him by the back of the neck toward it. “sit still. don’t move. don’t talk. until i finish this round.”
chris actually swallows.
he likes this. he loves this.
but he also wasn’t expecting it to go this far.
matt nudges him down onto the mattress. presses a hand briefly to his chest, keeping him there.
“if you get up,” matt adds quietly, “i’m not going to be gentle about putting you back.”
the words aren’t angry. they’re controlled. deliberate.
chris’s grin fades into something smaller. obedient.
“…okay.”
matt gives his cheek a quick, almost patronizing kiss. “good. stay.”
then he turns and goes back to his desk like nothing happened.
and chris just sits there.
hands on his thighs. legs bouncing once before he forces them still. staring at matt’s back while he focuses on the screen again.
every time he shifts even slightly, matt says, without looking over, “sit.”
and chris freezes instantly.
he feels ridiculous. and restless. and ridiculously turned on by the fact that matt isn’t even watching him — just knows he’ll listen.
the round drags on.
and chris is sitting exactly where he was told to.
hands on his thighs. back straight. trying so hard not to fidget.
and matt is at his desk like none of this is affecting him at all.
headset slightly crooked over his hair. brows furrowed in concentration. lips parted just a little as he mutters under his breath at the screen. his forearms flex every time he clicks, veins visible when he shifts the mouse. shoulders tense under his t-shirt.
and chris swears he has never looked hotter in his entire life.
it’s ridiculous. it’s just a stupid game. matt’s arguing with strangers through his mic, focused, serious, completely locked in — and that calm authority from five minutes ago is still sitting heavy in his posture.
“sit,” matt says absently when chris’s knee starts bouncing again.
not even looking at him.
and chris freezes instantly.
fuck.
he shifts on the mattress, squeezing his hands together to keep from getting up. he wants matt’s hands back on him. wants to be pulled forward by the collar again. wants that steady grip at the back of his neck.
matt leans forward, jaw tight, clicking faster. “hold on— hold on—” he mutters into the mic.
chris watches the way his shoulders move. the way he licks his bottom lip when he’s focused. the way his thigh flexes under the desk when he adjusts his chair.
god.
when is this round going to end?
he feels like he’s vibrating out of his skin. not because he’s bored anymore — because now he wants matt’s attention in a completely different way. wants to crawl into his lap. wants to bite at his neck just to see if he can make that controlled composure crack.
but he doesn’t move.
because matt told him not to.
and the obedience makes it worse.
“stay,” matt says again, softer this time, still not turning around.
chris swallows. “i am,” he mutters, barely above a whisper.
matt hums, satisfied, and keeps playing.
and chris is stuck there, staring at him like he’s the hottest person alive, waiting for the second that headset comes off and the chair rolls back.
waiting to be handled again.
the round feels like it’s taking a fucking eternity.
but the second the game ends, chris knows.
he sees it in matt’s posture — the subtle exhale, the way his shoulders finally relax. the screen goes dark. the headset comes off. the computer clicks as it shuts down.
and chris practically lights up.
matt turns in his chair and just simply looks at him.
chris is still exactly where he left him. sitting on the bed. hands on his thighs. trying and failing not to look way too eager.
matt actually laughs under his breath. “jesus,” he murmurs. “you look like you’ve got a fucking tail.”
chris flushes instantly. “shut up.”
“no, seriously,” matt continues, standing slowly — dragging it out one last time just to watch chris squirm. “you’re about two seconds away from wagging.”
chris bites his lip, trying to hold onto some dignity. it’s not working. his leg bounces once before he stills it again out of habit.
matt notices.
“hey,” he says softly, stepping closer. “what did i tell you?”
“sit still,” chris answers automatically.
“and?”
chris swallows. “…don’t move.”
matt hums approvingly.
he steps between chris’s knees, close enough that chris has to tilt his head back to look at him. matt’s hands settle on his hips, thumbs pressing into the fabric there, grounding and warm.
“you were so good,” matt says, voice low and steady. “didn’t get up. didn’t run your mouth. didn’t touch anything.”
chris’s breath stutters a little at that.
matt’s hand slides up, fingers curling gently at the back of his neck again. not rough this time — just firm enough to remind him who set the rules.
“such a good boy for me,” matt murmurs.
that does it. chris practically melts forward into him, forehead brushing matt’s chest.
matt chuckles softly, clearly pleased. “yeah. that’s what i thought.”
he tips chris’s chin up with two fingers, studying his flushed face like he’s proud of what he sees.
“you want your reward now?” he asks quietly.
chris nods immediately, then catches himself and forces words out instead. “yes.”
matt smiles — slow, knowing.
“impatient,” he teases. “but you earned it.”
his hands tighten at chris’s waist, pulling him forward just enough to make him gasp.
“good boys get rewarded,” matt says softly. “and you were very, very good.”
chris swears if he had a tail, it’d be wagging uncontrollably right now.
and matt absolutely knows it.
matt doesn’t rush it.
that’s the worst part.
he keeps one hand at the back of chris’s neck, the other firm on his waist, holding him exactly where he wants him. chris is already leaning forward, already trying to close the distance, breath shallow and impatient.
“easy,” matt murmurs.
and then he kisses him.
slow at first. deliberate. like he’s proving he’s still the one in control.
chris makes this small, desperate sound against his mouth and immediately tries to deepen it, hands flying up to grab at matt’s shirt. he’s been sitting still for what felt like forever — obedient, twitchy, waiting — and now all that pent-up energy pours straight into the kiss.
matt tightens his grip automatically, fingers pressing into chris’s hip to steady him.
“so eager,” he mutters against his lips.
chris kisses him harder in response, almost chasing him when matt pulls back half an inch just to watch him follow. he can’t help it. he’s practically vibrating. every brush of matt’s mouth feels like it’s short-circuiting something in his brain.
“you’re gonna kill me,” chris breathes.
matt huffs a quiet laugh and kisses him again, firmer this time. his thumb slides up under chris’s jaw, tilting his head just how he wants it. it’s controlled but warm — not punishing anymore, just claiming.
“you did so good,” matt murmurs between kisses. “sat there looking at me like that the whole time.”
chris flushes, but he doesn’t deny it. he just presses closer, hands gripping tighter, trying to pull matt fully onto him.
matt lets himself be pulled forward, stepping between chris’s legs completely now, crowding him. the kiss deepens, slower and heavier, and chris melts into it like he’s been waiting all night to finally exhale.
he kisses like he’s starving.
and matt can feel it — the eagerness, the impatience, the way chris keeps chasing his mouth every time he pulls back just slightly.
“calm down,” matt murmurs, though he’s smiling against him. “you’ve got me.”
that only makes chris kiss him harder.
because yeah.
he does.
matt’s still standing between his legs when the kiss shifts.
it stops being slow and teasing.
chris is pulling at him now, fingers fisted in his shirt, trying to drag him closer like he’s afraid matt’s going to disappear again. he’s flushed, breathing heavier, kissing like he’s been deprived for hours.
matt lets him tug for a second.
then he takes over.
his hands slide down to chris’s thighs and he pushes — steady, firm — until chris falls back against the mattress with a soft thud. matt follows immediately, leaning over him, one hand braced beside his head.
chris’s eyes widen for half a second before his grin spreads again.
“matt—”
“shh,” matt mutters, kissing him again before he can start talking.
he shifts his weight forward, pressing chris fully into the bed, and slots his knee between chris’s legs in one smooth motion. not aggressive. not rough enough to hurt. just enough pressure to make chris inhale sharply into his mouth.
there it is.
that needy little sound.
matt smirks against his lips.
“still that eager?” he murmurs.
chris’s hands slide up matt’s back, nails dragging lightly through his shirt. he tries to buck up into him automatically, chasing more contact, but matt’s weight keeps him grounded.
“you did this,” chris breathes.
“i did?” matt replies, voice low.
he presses his knee forward just slightly, testing, and chris’s head tips back into the pillow with a quiet, wrecked exhale.
matt watches him for a second — flushed cheeks, parted lips, that restless energy finally funneled into something softer and more focused.
“couldn’t even sit still without losing your mind,” matt teases gently. “now look at you.”
chris just grabs him and pulls him back down into another kiss, desperate and heated and completely done pretending he has any chill left.
and matt lets him.
but he stays on top. stays in control. knee still right where it is, hands firm at chris’s hips, holding him there.
rewarding him.
exactly like he promised.
chris is a little too eager to stay still.
he shifts instinctively, letting his legs fall open just enough to invite matt’s knee closer. that little movement, that small invitation, makes matt grin against his lips before he even speaks.
and chris doesn’t hesitate — he presses his thighs together around matt’s knee, gripping it like he’s claiming it. he leans up slightly, trying to push matt’s weight just enough to get the reaction he wants. his chest rises and falls fast, breath uneven, eyes wide and desperate.
matt doesn’t give him what he’s asking for. not yet.
with a quiet chuckle, he moves his knee, sliding it just slightly to the side, teasing him without breaking their kiss. he presses down just enough to keep control, but it’s deliberate — letting chris squirm, letting him realize that even when he tries to take the initiative, matt decides how it happens.
matt pulls back just slightly, enough to catch his breath, and chris can’t stop himself from leaning forward, lips parting instinctively, tongue darting out to try and reach the little strand of spit hanging from matt’s bottom lip.
matt smirks, catching the motion, and his voice drops low, slow and teasing. “you want my spit, baby?”
chris swallows hard, nodding almost desperately, fingers gripping matt’s shoulders. “god, yeah,” he murmurs, voice shaky and needy.
“you’re so fucking filthy, chris,” matt coos, leaning back in just enough to watch chris beg, eyes dark, lips glistening from the remnants of their kiss.
chris whines softly, tongue flicking out again, trying to reach it, utterly lost in how much he wants matt right there. his body presses into matt’s, legs still wrapped lightly around that teasing knee, and matt’s hands tighten at his hips, holding him steady while letting him want.
matt tilts his head just slightly, capturing chris’s lips again, but this time there’s a sharp, deliberate edge to it.
he leans in closer, and he spits into chris’s mouth.
chris gasps softly, eyes wide, but he doesn’t pull back — not for a second. matt slides a hand to the back of his neck, tilting his head just right, whispering against his lips, “swallow. all of it.”
and chris obeys instantly, swallowing, lips fluttering against matt’s as the kiss deepens again. it’s messy, it’s hungry, it’s desperate, and dirty in the way only they could be.
all the while, matt’s knee is still right where it needs to be — pressed between chris’s thighs, moving just enough with each subtle shift, grinding against him in rhythm with their kisses. chris’s hips lift instinctively into it, a little whine escaping him, but matt keeps him pinned, steady, controlling every bit of contact while letting him feel every delicious inch.
“want it, matt,” chris whimpers into matt’s mouth, hands moving down to his waist.
“what, baby? words.”
“want this off,” chris begins tugging at matt’s waistband, “want you in.”
matt grins.
and of course, he complies.