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Freudian Slip

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Freudian slip

 

Late nights in the archives were becoming awkward. With Martin living there, his “clocking off” time was somewhat fluid. With a home to go to, it was easy to leave with Sasha and Tim, or, to show willing, stay on a few more minutes after they had gone. But now Martin waved goodbye to them and had now choice but to stay in the office, just him and the boss.

 

Jon had remained... stoic, since the Prentiss attack on Martin. Initially Martin had thought this might soften him, finally allow him to see how dedicated Martin was to his work and to the Archives. Maybe give him a break and see him as a worthwhile employee. Maybe even... register Martin as a human being. But nothing seemed to have changed. After his offer of the cot in the archives and a promise to ask Elias for security, Jon had gone right back to normal. If anything he was more grumpy, working very late into the night and snapping at everyone to work harder to get the archives in order. Martin tried to convince himself Jon was simply nervous, desperate to impress in his new role and therefore unaware of how he treated Martin. But deep down he suspected Jon merely hated him. 

 

Regardless, Martin was determined to please Jon and he had been working later and later into the night, justifying to himself that he had nowhere else to be anyway. But really it was a desperate attempt to impress Jon, spurred on by this ridiculous crush he simply couldn’t shake. He knew it was making no difference but, he was Martin and couldn’t help but want to be loved, or at least liked, by everyone.

 

_

 

In his office, Jon Sims pulled a stack of papers towards him and shuffled through them, glancing at the titles and dates to gauge the importance of the statements. He had been reading statements all day and his eyes ached. But he had found nothing on Jane Prentiss, or the worms. He had to keep going. It was in here somewhere. He sat back for a moment and stared out of his office window, looking into the open plan space where the assistant researchers had their desks. Only Martin sat there now, looking tired, hunched over his desk reading some document or other, brow furrowed in concentration. Jon felt that churning in his stomach again as he looked at him. Poor Martin. Stuck alone in his flat, terrified that no one was coming for him, stalked by Prentiss and her worms. Jon felt the guilt physically, deep in his gut, but did not have the vocabulary to say so to Martin. He was no good with the touchy- feely side of his job. So instead he had decided he would hunt down Prentiss and stop her. Then, he would tell Martin he was safe and Martin would be happy and he would know that Jon.... liked him. Respected him rather. As a member of the team. 

 

There was an uncomfortable tightness in his groin and Jon realised he had been staring for far too long and his thoughts had drifted somewhat. It was nothing to do with Martin necessarily just.. testosterone. He was a man. He had been alone for a long time now, he just... needed some company. Nothing a cold shower and some sleep wouldn’t fix. As if overhearing his thoughts, Martin glanced up and caught Jon’s eye through the office window. He smiled shyly and raised his hand in a static wave. Jon felt the heat rise in his face. Damn Martin. He always seemed to have that adorable grin on his face. Jon frowned angrily and looked back to his papers. When he felt enough time had passed he looked up again to see Martin, head bowed, scribbling furiously into his research notepad. He looked flushed and Jon felt that tightness again. Time to go for that shower.

 

———-

 

The week passed by achingly slow. By Wednesday, Martin had worked almost 36 hours trying to keep up with Jon’s work ethic and he was tired. He had no way to break free from work and was starting to feel the strain. He was here with at least one other person the majority of the time and yet he felt lonely. He missed companionship, a flat mate or friend or even his mum, although she could be very cranky at times. Jon remained resolutely silent during their late work nights, stopping only to say “see you tomorrow” as he left each evening. And that was fine.... but Martin wondered if he felt as lonely as he did. He decided enough was enough, and if they were going to play this charade of working in separate rooms for hours on end, they could at least enjoy a cup of tea. He would bring Jon some tonight. Maybe even suggest ordering a pizza or something. Jon clearly wasn’t eating enough.

 

Tim and Sasha took off around 6 and Martin waved them goodbye. He tried to work a little longer but found his heart was beating just a little too fast to concentrate. He felt nervous although he had no idea why. He stood up and made his way down to the staff kitchen. As he passed Jon’s office he heard that warm, upper class voice drift out... “statement of David smith, originally taken 1975...” he felt himself blush as the hairs on his arms stood up. Jon’s reading voice always did that to him. He had once heard him read an entire statement and it was hypnotic. He seemed to morph into a different person. Martin had drifted pleasantly in a kind of haze the entire time, despite the fairly nasty content of the statement itself. He had had to stop listening after that though. He had a terrible vision of himself....moaning... at the sound of Jon’s voice and the vision was so vivid he thought he may actually have done it. He couldn’t risk it and avoided listening after that, or at least while Jon was recording.

 

He made tea and carried the two steaming mugs back to Jon’s office. He paused for a second outside but it was quiet. So he took a deep breath and knocked.

 

“Yes?”

 

“It’s me... Martin. I brought tea?”

 

There was a cough and Jon said finally “uh thank you... come in”

 

Martin entered, pushing the door open with his back and set the two mugs on Jon’s desk, careful not to touch any statements. Jon made a space and started gathering discarded statements. He shuffled them roughly and said “thanks” without looking up.

 

“No problem. I actually thought I might... order pizza or something. There’s only so many ramen pots you can eat and the kitchen here isn’t exactly conducive to cooking a full meal and you don’t seem to be eating a great deal at the moment...” he trailed off, noticing Jon had yet to look at him and seemed even more distant than normal. “Jon, are you ok?”

 

Jon dragged a hand down across his eyes. He’d had no luck on reports on Prentiss and he was starting to feel nervous. Plus he hadn’t worked as hard as he should have last night as he kept getting distracted by the way Martin raked his hair back when he was concentrating, and now he would have to work late again even though he was tired and yeah, hungry...

 

He sighed and said “I’m fine, just horny that’s all”

 

There was a beat of complete silence as the word reverberated loudly around both their heads. Martin felt his eyebrows rise up to his hairline completely of their own volition, and he began to turn a deep shade of red. Jon, on the other side of the desk, heard the word and wondered why it had been coming from his mouth. He hadn’t asked it to say that. He could feel his ears burning and knew he had to save it. 

 

“Hungry!” He said hoarsely “I meant hungry of course. Slip of the tongue”

 

There was more silence. Somewhere a clock ticked softly. Martin felt an intense buzzing in his skull and felt like he was falling towards a decision he may not recover from. This was unprecedented territory. Jon had never hinted that he even thought about sex before and here he was apparently confessing to needing some... release. Martin’s heart was beating fast now and there was a rushing in his ears. A small voice in his mind said “do not say anything, you need this job, do not screw this up” but it was drowned out by his mouth saying the following, apparently with no input from his brain whatsoever;

 

“Maybe I could help with that”

 

Jon’s eyes snapped back to him. They narrowed ever so slightly and he cleared his throat. “With the... hunger” he said.

 

“Or the other thing” Martin voice was deep and croaky. His throat was so dry it was a wonder the words came out at all.

 

Jon’s eyes widened. That tightness was back and this time it was... extreme. He resisted the urge to adjust himself.”Martin “he stammered” I didn’t mean..... I wasn’t asking...”

 

Martin shook his head “I know... but if you wanted me to.. I could help”

 

A flash of images flickered though Jon’s mind in an instant and he realised with a start that... yes that was exactly what he wanted. He licked his lips and found his mouth was completely dry.

 

“Yes.” He croaked softly

 

Martin nodded and walked around the big oak desk to where Jon was sitting. He knelt down in front of him, heart hammering to such an extent now that he thought he might faint. He spread his legs a little wider and placed a hand tightly around the crotch of his jeans. He felt the swell of his cock pressing painfully against the zipper. “Would you like me to ....play a little first?” He suspected Jon might feel a little anxious.... perhaps going straight in with a hand job would be too much. 

 

Jon nodded dumbly, eyes fixed on the bulge in Martin’s trousers. Martin nodded back and carefully unzipped himself, peeling the trousers away to reveal his already hardening cock. The fact he had no boxers on seemed to surprise Jon and he let out a little “oh” which then elongated as Martin gently, ever so gently, began to rub the length of his shaft.

 

Martin let out his own moan as his cock stiffened beneath his grip. He was still nervous. Wanking off in front of his boss was not on his intended to do list today, but he couldn’t pretend he’d never had this fantasy. In fact it was so close to those intense sex dreams he had on the cot at night after Jon had left for the evening that he momentarily wondered if he was dreaming.

 

And then he heard Jon say, “Martin. Oh my god”

 

He looked at Jon. His face was flushed and he was gripping the front of his own trousers. He looked almost pained and Martin stopped rubbing himself and reached out to put both hand on Jon’s thighs. He leaned close, breathing in the scent of clean laundry and cologne and whispered, “can I touch you?”

 

“Yes... “ came the slightly  strangled reply. “Oh please Martin yes”

 

Martin smiled and placed a hand on the straining zipper of Jon’s trousers. A quick twist of the button, boxers pushed aside and Jon’s cock was free. It was bigger than Martin expected and for a second he wondered how he might suck that big cock if his boss told him he wanted him to. And that thought brought a new wave of desire and Martin leaned in on Jon muttering oh my god... He wanted to touch himself again, but Jon was rock hard and Martin so desperately wanted to touch him. He was pretty sure Jon’s orgasm voice would be even better than the one he used for recording statements... 

 

Gently, he wrapped his hand around Jon’s swollen cock and pulled upwards in one long stroke. Jon cried out, arching his back and letting his head fall on the back of his chair. He gripped the arms tightly and began to move his hips involuntarily as Martin rubbed his hand up and down his pulsating dick. Within seconds Jon was panting hard, clearly nearing completion but Martin wasn’t ready for that yet. He grabbed the front of Jon’s shirt pulling him to look at him. “Jon, can I taste you”

 

Jon groaned again and Martin felt the beads of precome spilling out from the tip of his cock. Jon could only nod and Martin leaned down to take his boss’s cock in his mouth. Jon let out a cry of pleasure and grabbed Martin’s hair roughly. Martin felt a rush of adrenaline and taking his own cock in his hand began to lick and suck Jon’s, taking it as deep as he could go, while rubbing his own furiously. Jon was close again within seconds. His hips buckled under Martin’s suction and he pulled him closer, forcing Martin to take all of him in his mouth. Oh my god Martin... fuck me.... I’m... so close”

 

Martin sucked fiercely, loving the feeling of Jon’s hands in his hair, the loss of any inhibition. He never wanted this to end, but he could tell it was close.

 

And then...

 

“Martin... I’m... oh god I’m coming... Martin, look at me”

 

Martin looked up, and Jon let out a howl of relief and hot, salty cum began to pulse straight down Martin’s throat. He gagged a little but recovered and maintaining eye contact, swallowed. Jon groaned as the last waves of his orgasm receded and Martin extracted him gently from his mouth. He lay back in his office chair looking completely spent. Martin smiled.

 

“Feel better?”

 

“Yes”, said Jon breathlessly. But his eyes drifted back to Martin’s own chubby cock. He was only semi-hard now but the way Jon looked at him started his erection again.

 

“Can I make you feel better now?”

 

Martin nodded. This had to be a dream... had to be... but as his boss laid him back on the floor and carefully took his cock into his mouth, Martin hoped to God it was not.

 

 

Much later, both damp and sticky and completely exhausted, they lay together in the cot, legs tangled round each other. Jon stroked Martin’s head softly and said... “I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have”.

 

“I wanted to. I’m glad we did this..... I think we both needed it”.

 

Jon laughed. “Yes you could say that”. He traced a finger down Martin’s arm. “Do you feel... satisfied now?”

 

Martin pulled himself onto one elbow. “Why, could you go again?”

 

Jon laughed and pulled him back down. “No I think twice is my limit for tonight. I just meant.....”

 

“For tonight?” Martin tried desperately to keep the hope out of his voice.

 

“Well... if you wanted to do this again... purely to relieve stress of course”.

 

Martin smiled. Sure boss. Whatever you say.