Work Text:
OJ sat there in his faux leather office chair, shoulders hanging out of his awfully tense frame. The clock loomed over him as it taunted him, second by second. Thirty more minutes was the same thought that crossed his mind 2 hours ago, the triple digits of emails daringly crawling around his head. His eyes grazed over the words of email 492 and he formulated a somewhat coherent response, he almost forgot to write his sign off. He had glanced at the time, 20:37 it read. Suitcase had left early to catch up with some friends and Cabby packed away the minute their meeting was done to go on a date. Now, he was following his own order: his incentive to keep on working. It had become a habit of his to stay late, and his focus on the screen in front of him grew more frequent ever since the 2 near death experiences faced by Fan and Test Tube. The lingering desire to push down the feelings of slight worry left him in his seat well past a normal dinnertime
+~+
Paper lined his teeth with his tongue with the half empty toothpaste that he just let go of, he always liked the feeling of the ‘whitening’ crystals. In his right hand, he looked at his phone, scrolling through IInstagram on his phone, he browsed his friend’s stories: some nice scenery from Pickle and some snapshots of Pepper and Salt at a girls night out. His thumb wound up and down on the screen, until he reached Cabby’s story, she was on a date with Test Tube. Whilst he was happy with the pair— evident by the light smile on his face —he noticed it had been 2 hours since the OSC’s meeting and OJ’s 30 minutes of checking emails and paying expenses, meaning OJ was staying late again. Paper couldn’t help but feel sparks of guilt fire up in his head, and he unintentionally scrubbed his teeth a little harder. Trying to tackle his thoughts, he finished brushing up, along with some mouth wash, then buckled through to the pair’s living room to find his partner. He stood in the centre of the room as the furniture surrounding him were dark silhouettes that weighed upon his ankles, a slight dizziness crept towards him as he trudged to the front door. Fiddling with the handle before turning it.
The chilly gentle breeze whisked him along the night, his mind hovered over OJ and his unfretting love and anticipation but also the anxiousness about how he’d react after not checking up on him, eventually reaching his lover’s office and opening the door. To his excitement, Orange Juice sat diligently in his chair, his uptight position easily scouted out by Paper. With soft steps, he neared the man in his view until the man’s chest grazed the working man’s back, stripping his arms from the side to embrace his partner’s chest.
“Hii OJ! Are you okayɁ̦ you’ve been stuck at your desk for over 2 hours since your schedule ends”
OJ’s eyes widened when he heard Paper’s soft voice, the room felt much warmer especially in his arms.
“Hi Papes’, I’m fine, just finishing work”, the end of OJ’s sentence trailed out as he felt his boyfriend’s hands gently grip his shoulders.
“Well, are you going to go to bed?”
“Uhh…yeah; just a second Paper…” though Paper was unsatisfied with his result, he knew OJ was really trying to improve with his poor habit of staying late at work, but he couldn’t shake the thought that he was trying to avoid him or falling back into his past self. Though he himself wanted to escape the doubt so tried to shift his thoughts towards how to help and convince his partner to get to bed.
He had an idea: to coax him off his work by getting him to relax, with a shoulder massage!
His palms began to protrude in the space between his lover’s clavicles and shoulder blades, with a careful and focused pressure. His hands kneaded into his tense shoulders like he was encouraging them to loosen up. OJ, now unable to pay full attention to his computer, shut one eye, giving it up to the pleasure and sensation of his partner’s hands delicately easing his body out. His breath hitched under his touch. Paper giggled slightly, planting a few small kisses that dragged down towards his jawline; the skin below his breath flushing as his lips touched it. He let his head occasionally hover above OJ’s right shoulder to get a peek of his heated face. Slight gasps began to pick up as Paper continued to mould and carve his collarbone through his dress shirt, thumbs pressing and gliding into his upper back.
Paper noticed he was much more relaxed, but OJ was still a shameless voyeur to his screen. He thought about what else could get him off the clock, maybe entice him off the clock. Now, unconsciously staring at the portion of OJ’s body above the desk, his eyes landed on his neck, then the idea of kissing him came up.
Just as OJ’s fingers were about to reach for the mouse, Paper spun around his chair —using his foot— with a cheeky grin unveiled on his face. OJ looked at the man in front of him, his face dimly lit by the screen and the slightly warm coloured lamp casting a halo around his body. He wore his light hair loose and some simple pyjamas, his eyes twinkled, gazing at OJ, who couldnt help but watch. Watch him blink, the cheekiness fading into attraction and sincerity, he appeared as an angel in the eyes of his boyfriend, feeling a stark contrast between the two; OJ’s collar scruffy and unbuttoned, his locs in a very loose ponytail. But to Paper, OJ was beautiful, the warm glow centered around his temple, the deep citrine of his eyes acted as the flint and steel to his heart. A heavenly tan despite the harsh winters throughout the week. Suddenly, his eyes shot away, taking him away from the trance he was in and bringing him back in his seat. He remembered the couple hundred emails left to read and urged himself to get back to work.
OJ tried to turn back, no thanks to Paper’s leg, he couldn’t. “Okay Papes, I’m finished” he said as he raised his arms defensively, his tone a bit more lax than his gestures. In reply, he let a wisp of laughter escape him, eyeing OJ up and down like there were more important matters to attend to; like getting to bed, with some fun along the way. Paper couldn’t resist, and his knees got weaker with the prolonged standing. He rested his kneecaps either side of OJ’s hips, sitting atop his thighs with a hand on the other’s shoulder. His eyes redirected from his lover’s body, to his lips then his ambers, meeting his own aquamarine coloured eyes. He noticed the man in his view got a rush of nervousness as pinkish hues only peeping through his melanin.
Right then and there, Paper brought his head to OJ’s neck, he left his warm breath trickling down to the left of the other’s adam’s apple.
OJ sighed shakily, the heat of the moment bringing his attention back to his undying love as the trance he re-entered. He weaved his hand through his partner’s hair before laying them over his shoulders, warm air rose between the pair as Paper’s lips brushed against OJ’s neck, drawing out a light groan from the workaholic. Flustered by the contact, he felt the arousal of it all rush and ram through his blood stream, leaving him a little more dazed and a little bit needy.
“Do you want to carry on, or go to bed?” Paper whispered, lips pattering on OJ’s neck which only fuelled his desire.
“Carry on Paper~...please..” he stumbled out, with a tone that failed to mask fractions of lust. Mere fractions but they were multiplied by his love for Paper.
His partner daringly ran his tongue up OJ’s neck with his fingers holding his collar taut, he felt the hot air unknot in his lungs, letting out a weak whimper that he’d really tried to mask. Kisses with varying roughness snailed up towards his jaw, then each kiss was lapped over going back down to his collarbone. Paper’s lips gently caught the soft skin underneath, his tongue gently swirled across the area as his hands began to climb a ladder down to his chest. OJ’s breaths grew heavier as the cold around the two accentuated the faint wetness littered over his neck, it made the hazy fever of romance all the more thrilling.
OJ’s hands clasped Paper’s hair again, comforted by its silkiness. He gave out a whine as the kisses hardened against his neck, “Paper…” he choked out, slight shame damming his mind, but the tides of his pleasure override any splint of negativity. The sensations ruled over his body, drawing moans and gasps out of his mouth. Just then, Paper began to nibble at his boyfriend’s skin, but shyly pulled away which revealed the deep blush painted over his pale skin; he toyed with the buttons whilst looking at his partner, where he saw the slight disappointment in his eyes due to Paper breaking from him.
“OJ, would you be okay with a few hickeys, and maybe something about your shirt…?”
“ Yes, I’d really like that, actually”, he exclaimed, studying his lover’s face with a curtain of pure adoration.
Paper swung back into action, a bit more nervous than before but managing to ease into it. He gently sucked a spot on OJ’s neck as he continued playing with the buttons on his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it down to his upper arms. His hands maneuvered across his chest until he reached his bare skin, starting to caress it. OJ shakily whispered Paper’s name and his hands slid down to his elbows, all in desperation for some sense of control over his feelings; but to no use. They both felt the unwavering heat between them.
The white-haired man sucked the area harder, lightly biting to leave a purple mark, then he kissed each one he made and passed his tongue over it. Butterflies twirled in his stomach with every little noise he made out of OJ, it drove him a little crazier and so the love-bite darkened in tone across the left side** of his neck as more of his love flooded his being and poured out through his mouth.
+~+
They both noticed how it got the tiniest bit more cloudy —though Paper had to look from the edge of his eye— and had come to a mutual agreement to get home sometime soon. Paper left a couple of soft kisses dripping to OJ’s chest before looking at the heart-shaped bruises arranged across his neck. The two of them wrapped their arms around eachother, the embrace making the (supposed) workaholic blush even more; he ruffled Paper’s hair once more, thanking him for the gesture. They lay in the office chair, the outline of two birds on a branch in love mirroring them
“I think we should get back to bed, Paper”
“Mmm…I dont wanna get up, funny I had to say that to you”
“Touché~, sweetheart” OJ retorted playfully
** paper’s right, oj’s left,
***(not literally, like as in they were created by paper’s heart if ya get what i mean ;3) ,