Matt plopped down on his couch in a heap of disgust and spandex.
He'd spend months preparing for tonight, painstakingly envisioning and creating a costume and even spending an extra hour every day in the gym so he'd look good in it. Tonight had been the LA FBI office Halloween party and Matt had dressed carefully. It was an obscure superhero designed to catch the eye of an avid comic book fan… namely one David Sinclair. Matt had dressed up as Ryan Choi's Atom, one of the few Asian Americans superheroes in major comics.
Matt had looked great, so said his mirror and the many, many people in the office that had never talked to him before. One had even recognized who he was dressed as.
But before the Halloween party could even get started, before the 'blood' punch could be poured and bat cookies served and Matt make his subtle way around the room to casually talk to David…
Don's damn phone had rang and his team had been called away. They'd quickly ditched their costumes and left the party, leaving Matt completely deflated. None of the food and crazy games that he'd looked forward to had been able to lift his funk.
Stendhauser had been sympathetic. He was glad she'd been there, since she was the only person who knew about Matt's obsess-interest- appreciation for David. Was it his fault? David was so goddamned good at his job, and Matt had always found competence sexy. David was smart, skilled, and seemed at ease in his body no matter the situation.
And tonight David had looked amazing.
Though most people had assumed David was dressed as Captain America, the Steve Rodgers' version, Matt knew that David had come as Isaiah Bradley, another Captain America. Bradley was a very complex and difficult character, who had been unwillingly subjected to a lesser form of the serum that created Steve Rodger's Captain. Matt was very impressed by David's choice and had been looking forward to discussing the character's history with him.
Then that stupid phone call.
Matt ground his teeth at the timing of it. He'd heard that it was about an interstate fraud case, and that meant they had to leave then?
He was staring at the ceiling but he was seeing David in his costume. David had gotten every detail down, even the silver shield that said, 'Democracy.' What Matt was remembering, however, was how well the suit molded to David's body - and that body was even more defined and muscular than Matt had expected. His eyes had, by their own volition, wandered down David's arms and legs and even to the unabashed bulge in his groin.
Matt groaned softly as his own groin throbbed. Why did David affect him in a way no other man ever had? It made no sense, but his body didn't care. Matt's cock was a hard shape in his spandex that he could no longer ignore. He rubbed his crotch lightly and decided that there were worse ways to end a lousy evening.
Standing up, he began to push his tights downward. His eyes landed on a heavy winter scarf that was hanging off a random bookshelf. He'd almost forgotten about it since a friend had given it to him last year but tonight it took on new interest.
He pulled up his tights and went over to get it. It was a Captain America scarf but luck would have it that all of the iconography on it - the big white star on the blue field, the sideways red and white stripes, a headscarf with eye-holes - could all apply to the Captain America that David had been dressed as.
On impulse, Matt took the scarf down and wrapped it around his neck. A shiver went through him as it felt like David's hands resting on him.
He quickly returned to the couch, pulling his tights down to his thighs. He settled himself in, adjusting a pillow. The ends of the scarf got trapped under the pillow and as he lay his head down, the scarf pulled a little around his neck. It felt like David's hands were squeezing Matt's throat.
A jolt of arousal slammed through him.
Matt closed his eyes and pictured David's hands around his throat. One of Matt's hand went to stroke his cock, the other to pull on his balls. David's hands would be warm and strong, perfectly in control of the pressure they were putting on Matt's throat.
Sitting up, Matt jammed the ends of the scarf into the couch frame under the cushion then lay down again. He scooted down until the scarf was taut against his throat. He pictured David in his costume, braced over him, his hands around Matt's throat, his dark eyes boring into Matt's. Matt stroked his cock as he imagined looking down David's body. David would be turned on too as he began to restrict Matt's breathing. His muscles would flex, his cock make a huge shape in his tights.
"David," Matt murmured. "David. Yes, Matt, I want you, I want you to come." Matt stroked his cock roughly. "David, please, I want to touch you too. I want to run my hands over your body. Please touch me, David, I want you to touch my cock. No, Matt, I'm going to watch you stroke yourself and I'm going to keep my hands here, even tighten them, so everything is mine, even your breath is mine."
Matt scooted even farther down and the scarf pulled tight. He could feel the pressure in his ears, his pulse pounding in his head.
"David, David," he whispered as his orgasm gathered in his balls. His vision began to go fuzzy. "Come, Matt, come now. David!"
His orgasm arrived suddenly, his body jerking, his breath gone, as wave after wave of orgasm shot through him. David's hands tightened and drove yet another wave of orgasm as blackness rushed at him.
He fell off the couch.
The couch cushions fell off with him, the scarf suddenly free.
He lay, panting harshly, his heart pounding. That had been an incredibly intense orgasm. A killer orgasm, 'killer' perhaps being the important word. He'd never experimented with breath play before, but when it came to David, everything was something he'd never done before.
"That was stupid," Matt admitted in a hoarse whisper.
Matt stared blankly at nothing for a long moment. David's hands had felt so good.
The vision of David in his costume was still strong behind his eyes. He wished he had a photo of it. He could probably pull something from the office surveillance cameras.
With a groan, Matt finally picked himself off the floor. He felt bruised all over, but especially his throat. He just hoped that there wouldn't be any visible bruises he'd have to explain at work.
He slowly went to clean himself up. He stripped out of his costume, throwing it aside in disgust. The evening had started out with such promise and ended with him almost choking himself in a fantasy about the man he could never be with.
Dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, he got himself a Pepsi then went to his computer. He looked through his email, feeling like the worst loser ever. He perked up a little when he saw an email from an old friend, Ty. They'd gone to college together and stayed close. They often worked out together. They were having an email conversation at the moment about Ty's astonishing recent admission that he had a side job as a stripper. Ty was a computer tech like Matt, though he worked in the private sector. Matt had been flabbergasted by Ty being a stripper and had asked him for more details. Ty was very fit and a good dancer, so that part tracked, but Matt hadn't thought he was that desperate for money. Ty had said the money was good, but that wasn't why he did it, and also slid in the fact that he stripped for both women and men. That had led to a lot more questions, since Ty was straight.
Matt scrolled to Ty's response to his latest question:
"Why men? Well, the glib answer is that they tip better. More money with less hours, if you have a good club, which I do. But that's not really the reason. It's just… All day, every day I work in an office that is 2/3rds guys. They don't really see me, though. I'm not good buddies with any of them, because I'm not into sports or I don't have a family or I don't like to chase skirts or whatever it is that they do together. They just treat me like a brain with legs, never really talk to me. When I'm up on the stage, men pay attention to me. They want me. I'm an actual corporeal human being, not some computer program."
Matt picked his jaw up off the keyboard and read the paragraph again. He completely understood. He felt invisible at work, especially to David, but also to everyone other than his fellow techs. It didn't seem to bother them. It bothered Matt a great deal.
Matt swallowed and continued to read.
"You should come see me dance sometime. You watch my audience and tell me that they aren't noticing me. Hey, I know you feel the same way at work. If you ever want some noticing, they have open auditions once a month. Do some martial arts or something and you'd rock it. Just an idea, don't kill me."
Matt blinked and blinked again. This was so outside his comfort zone it was imaginable.
Still…it wouldn't hurt to go see Ty dance one time, if nothing else other than to tease him.
He leaned back in his chair and took a drink.
Then he closed his eyes and pictured himself undressing on stage while David watched below.