Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Est Supha didn’t look up when the door opened.

“Mr. Supha,” his HR director, Punch, said carefully, “your assistant for ten o’clock is here.”

Est flicked his fingers in dismissal, still scanning the financial report in front of him. “Another one? How many does that make this month?”

Punch hesitated. “Fourth.”

He smirked. “Let’s see how long this one lasts.”

The door clicked shut, and only then did Est lift his gaze.

The man standing in front of his desk was annoyingly not what he expected. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp, calculating eyes that didn’t waver under Est’s scrutiny. His suit was immaculate, his posture relaxed but controlled. He didn’t fidget. He didn’t look nervous.

Est hated him already.

“William Jakrapatr,” the man said, his voice smooth, deep. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Supha.”

Est leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. “You won’t be saying that in a week.”

William’s lips twitched, almost a smile, almost a challenge. “I am not scared that easily.”

Est arched a brow. “Everyone says that. None of them last.”

“Maybe you’ve just never had the right assistant.”

The audacity. Est’s fingers tightened imperceptibly on the armrests. He studied William the way he stood, the way he spoke, the way he didn’t flinch under Est’s glare. Most people did. Most people crumbled within minutes.

William didn’t.

Interesting.

Est pushed a file across the desk. “Your predecessor lasted three days. Before that, two weeks. Before that, a month.” He tapped the folder. “Their resignation letters. Care to guess why they quit?”

William didn’t reach for the file. “I don’t need to. I already know.”

Est’s eyes narrowed. “Oh?”

“You’re demanding. Unreasonable. You work impossible hours and expect the same from anyone under you. You don’t tolerate mistakes. You enjoy making people squirm.” William tilted his head slightly. “Am I wrong?”

Est’s pulse jumped. No one had ever said it to his face before.

He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “And you think you can handle that?”

William met his gaze, unflinching. “I know I can.”

The air between them crackled, thick with something Est couldn’t name. Challenge? Anticipation? Something darker, something hotter.

Est exhaled sharply through his nose. “Fine. You start tomorrow. Seven a.m. Don’t be late.”

William nodded once. “I won’t be.”

As he turned to leave, Est called after him, “And William?”

The man paused, glancing back.

“If you disappoint me,” Est said softly, “I won’t just fire you. I’ll make sure you regret ever stepping foot in this office.”

William’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Looking forward to it, sir.”

The door closed behind him, and Est sat there, fingers drumming against the desk.

This one was going to be trouble.

7:00 AM. Sharp.

Est arrived at his office precisely on time, expecting, hoping to find William already there, sweating under the pressure of his first day.

Instead, the man was leaning against the reception desk, sipping coffee, looking infuriatingly at ease.

“You’re late,” Est snapped as he strode past.

William checked his watch. “It’s 6:58.”

Est didn’t break stride. “In my office. Now.”

William followed, unbothered, carrying a second cup of coffee black, no sugar, exactly how Est took it. He set it on the desk without a word.

Est ignored it. “Your first task. I need the quarterly reports from finance, cross-referenced with last year’s projections. I want it on my desk in an hour.”

William didn’t move. “Finance doesn’t open until eight.”

“Then figure it out.”

A beat. Then William turned and left without another word.

Est smirked. Finally, a reaction.

8:15 AM.

William returned, a thick folder in hand. He placed it on Est’s desk.

Est flipped it open. Every figure was highlighted, annotated, with a summary sheet clipped to the front. Efficient. Precise.

Annoyingly perfect.

“This took you an hour?” Est said coolly.

“Fifty-three minutes,” William corrected. “I had to convince the finance director to open early.”

Est’s fingers tightened on the edge of the folder. “And how did you manage that?”

William’s gaze didn’t waver. “Politely.”

Est exhaled sharply through his nose. He wasn’t used to being defied or impressed.

“Next,” he said, pushing another stack of files forward. “These contracts need revisions. I want them redlined and ready for legal by noon.”

William took the files. “Anything else?”

Est leaned back in his chair, studying him. “You tell me. Are you overwhelmed yet?”

William’s lips twitched. “Should I be?”

Est’s jaw tightened.

This man was going to be the death of him.

3:00 PM.

Est had thrown every impossible task he could think of at William, last-minute meetings, irate clients, a presentation that needed rewriting in twenty minutes.

William handled it all without a single misstep.

By late afternoon, Est was simmering with frustration. He wasn’t used to someone keeping up with him, much less anticipating his needs before he voiced them.

It was infuriating.

It was exhilarating.

9:30 PM.

The office was empty except for the two of them.

Est had stayed late deliberately, waiting to see if William would crack and leave first. But the man was still there, typing something at his desk outside Est’s office, as composed as he’d been that morning.

Est stood in his doorway, arms crossed. “You’re still here.”

William didn’t look up. “You’re still here.”

Est’s pulse jumped. No one talked to him like that.

He stepped closer, until he was looming over William’s desk. “You think you’re clever?”

William finally met his gaze. “I think I’m good at my job.”

The air between them was charged, thick with something dangerous.

Est’s voice dropped, low and deliberate. “Prove it.”

William held his stare for a long moment, and then slowly stood, forcing Est to step back. He was taller up close, his presence overwhelming.

“Careful, Mr. Supha,” William murmured. “You keep testing me, you might not like what you find.”

Est’s breath caught.

For the first time in years, he didn’t have the upper hand.

And God help him, he liked it.

The realization sent a sharp, unfamiliar thrill down Est’s spine. He should have reprimanded William right then, should have reminded him who was in charge. But the words died in his throat, replaced by something far more dangerous: curiosity.

William didn’t back down. Didn’t apologize. Just held his gaze, unflinching, until Est was the one who looked away first.

That had never happened before.

The next morning, William was already at his desk when Est arrived, typing something as if nothing had happened.

Est slowed his steps, watching him. The early sunlight caught the sharp line of William’s jaw, the faint shadow of stubble along his throat. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, forearms corded with muscle as his fingers moved over the keyboard.

Est’s mouth went dry.

He cleared his throat. “Coffee.”

William didn’t even glance up. “Already on your desk.”

Est bristled. He strode into his office and sure enough, a fresh cup sat waiting, steam curling lazily from the surface.

He took a sip. Perfect, as always.

Infuriating.

By the third day, Est was losing his mind.

William was everywhere. Anticipating his needs before he voiced them, handling crises before Est even knew they existed, moving through the office with a quiet confidence that set Est’s teeth on edge.

Worse-people had started to notice.

“Your new secretary is scary efficient,” Punch murmured during a rare moment William wasn’t within earshot.

Est scowled. “He’s adequate.”

Punch raised a brow. “Adequate? He’s the only assistant you haven’t yelled at in months.”

Est’s grip tightened on his pen. That was the problem.

William didn’t give him a reason to yell.

Late again.

The office was empty except for the two of them, the city lights bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Est had stayed to finish a proposal, but his focus had long since frayed.

Because William was still there.

Because William was always there.

Est pushed back from his desk and stalked to the doorway. William was leaning over his own desk, scribbling notes on a document, the line of his back taut under his dress shirt.

Est’s pulse kicked.

“Why are you still here?” he demanded.

William didn’t look up. “You are.”

“That’s not an answer.”

William finally straightened, turning to face him. “Isn’t it?”

The air between them crackled.

Est took a step closer. Then another. Until they were barely a foot apart, close enough to see the flecks of gold in William’s dark eyes, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.

“You’re pushing your luck,” Est said, voice low.

William’s gaze dropped to Est’s mouth. Just for a second. Just long enough to make Est’s breath catch.

Then he smiled slow, knowing. “Am I?”

Est’s skin burned.

He should have fired him then. Should have ended whatever this was before it spiraled further out of his control.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the tension thrumming between them like a live wire.

The private jet was supposed to be Est’s sanctuary.

Instead, it had become a prison.

William sat across from him, jacket discarded, tie loosened, scrolling through his tablet with infuriating calm. The dim cabin lighting caught the sharp angle of his wrist, the flex of his fingers as he swiped across the screen.

Est clenched his jaw and looked away.

This was ridiculous. He was a CEO, not some starstruck intern. And yet-

"Your drink, sir."

William’s voice snapped him back to reality. A glass of whiskey neat, exactly how he liked it appeared on the table between them. William hadn’t even rung the attendant. He’d just known.

Est took the glass, deliberately avoiding William’s fingers. "I didn’t ask for this."

William leaned back, stretching his arms along the back of the seat. The movement pulled his shirt taut across his chest. "No," he agreed. "You didn’t."

Est’s grip tightened on the glass.

The plane hit a patch of turbulence, jostling them. William’s knee brushed against his just for a second, before pulling away.

Neither of them acknowledged it.

The storm worsened.

By the time they landed, the rain was coming down in sheets, the tarmac slick and gleaming under the runway lights. Their car service had canceled. The hotel was thirty minutes away.

William didn’t hesitate. "There’s a lounge with private suites airside. We’ll stay there tonight."

Est bristled. "I don’t stay in airports."

William turned to him, rainwater catching in his lashes. "Do you have a better idea?"

Est opened his mouth and found he didn’t.

William smiled, slow and knowing. "Thought so."

The suite was too small.

One bedroom. One living area. A single bathroom with frosted glass doors that did nothing to hide the silhouette of a person showering.

Est pointedly did not look in that direction as William disappeared inside.

The sound of water hitting tile was unbearable.

He poured himself another drink.

William emerged in a cloud of steam.

His hair was damp, curling slightly at the nape of his neck. He’d changed into a soft-looking t-shirt and sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

Est’s throat went dry.

William caught him staring. "Problem?"

Est forced his gaze away. "You’re underdressed."

William huffed a laugh. "It’s midnight."

"And?"

"And," William said, stepping closer, "you’re not my boss right now."

The air between them crackled.

Est stood abruptly, needing space, needing air, but the suite was too small, and William was too close, and when Est turned, they were suddenly chest to chest.

William didn’t back away.

Est could smell the clean, soapy scent of him, could see the faint pulse at the base of his throat. His own breath came faster.

William’s gaze dropped to Est’s mouth.

A beat. Two.

Then-

A sharp knock at the door.

Their room service.

William stepped back first, that infuriating smirk playing at his lips. "Saved by the bell," he murmured.

Est’s hands clenched at his sides.

This wasn’t over.

The room service cart sat between them like a ceasefire.

William had ordered enough for two, steak for himself, the seared tuna that Est preferred, a bottle of red wine that cost more than most people’s monthly rent. He’d even remembered the lemon wedge for Est’s water.

Infuriating.

Est stabbed his fork into the fish. "You’re overstepping."

William swirled his wine, unbothered. "Am I?"

"Ordering for me. Assuming you know what I want."

William’s gaze lifted, slow and deliberate. "But I do know."

The air between them thickened.

Outside, thunder rolled.

The whiskey came later.

William had pulled out a bottle from his bag, something expensive and smoky that Est normally would have refused on principle. But the storm had grounded them, the suite was too warm, and William’s fingers around the glass were too distracting to protest.

Est took a sip. The liquor burned down his throat. "You always travel with a full bar?"

William’s lips quirked. "Only when I know I’ll need it."

Est scoffed. "Planning to get me drunk?"

William’s eyes darkened. "Planning to serve you."

The words settled low in Est’s gut.

They drank in silence, the space between them shrinking with every passing minute.

The first brush of skin was an accident.

At least, that’s what Est told himself.

He reached for the whiskey at the same moment William did, their fingers colliding over the neck of the bottle. William’s hand was warm, his grip firm, his thumb resting just over Est’s pulse point.

Neither of them moved.

Est’s breath caught.

William’s fingers tightened just slightly before pulling away.

"Sorry," William murmured, though his tone suggested he wasn’t sorry at all.

Est drained his glass in one go.

The second touch was deliberate.

They’d moved to the sitting area, the whiskey making Est’s limbs heavy, his thoughts sluggish. William sat across from him, one ankle propped on his knee, his gaze tracking every shift of Est’s body.

Est leaned forward to set his glass down and William’s hand shot out, catching his wrist.

Est froze.

William’s thumb stroked the delicate skin under his watch. "You’re shaking."

Est yanked his arm back. "I’m fine."

William’s smile was razor-sharp. "Liar."

The word hung between them, charged and dangerous.

Est should have walked away. Should have retreated to the bedroom and locked the damn door.

Instead, he stayed.

The storm reached its peak near midnight.

The power flickered once, twice, before the suite plunged into darkness.

Est cursed.

William’s voice came from somewhere to his left, closer than expected. "Flashlight on my phone. Don’t move."

Est heard the rustle of fabric, the soft click of a button and then William was there, the dim glow of his screen casting shadows across his face. He was close enough that Est could feel the heat of his breath.

"Better?" William murmured.

Est didn’t trust himself to speak.

William took a step forward. Est took one back.

Another step. Another retreat.

Until the wall hit Est’s shoulders, and William was crowding into his space, one hand braced beside Est’s head, the other still holding the phone aloft.

The light caught the curve of William’s mouth, the dark intent in his eyes.

Est’s pulse roared in his ears.

William leaned in-

A deafening crack of thunder shook the windows.

The lights surged back on.

They sprang apart.

William cleared his throat, adjusting his cuffs like nothing had happened. "I’ll take the couch."

Est swallowed hard. "Fine."

Neither of them moved.

The office smelled like rain.

Est noticed it the moment he stepped off the elevator that electric, ozone-heavy scent clinging to the air, the aftermath of the storm that had trapped them together. That had almost-

He cut the thought off with a sharp exhale.

William was already at his desk, pristine as always, typing with that infuriating calm. He didn’t look up when Est passed.

Est slammed his office door harder than necessary.

The day passed in a haze of clipped words and lingering glances.

William brought him coffee black, no sugar, but their fingers didn’t brush this time. He handed off files with measured precision, standing just far enough away that Est couldn’t catch his scent.

It was maddening.

Est found himself staring at the curve of William’s neck during meetings, at the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders when he reached for a pen.

Pathetic.

He needed to regain control.

9:47 PM.

The office was empty again.

Est leaned back in his chair, listening to the steady tap of William’s keyboard outside his door. He’d stayed late deliberately, waiting to see if William would leave first.

He didn’t.

Est’s patience snapped.

"William." His voice carried through the half-open door.

The typing stopped. A beat, then footsteps. William appeared in the doorway, his tie slightly loosened, the first two buttons of his shirt undone.

Est’s mouth went dry.

"You wanted something?" William asked.

Est gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit."

William didn’t move. "It’s late."

"That wasn’t a request."

William’s jaw tightened, but he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The click of the latch sounded unnaturally loud.

Est waited until William was seated before speaking. "You’ve been distracted today."

William arched a brow. "Have I?"

"Don’t play dumb." Est leaned forward, bracing his arms on the desk. "Is there something you want to say to me?"

William held his gaze. "Not a thing."

The lie hung between them, thick and suffocating.

Est’s fingers twitched. He wanted to reach across the desk and shake the truth out of him. Wanted to-

William shifted slightly, the movement drawing Est’s attention to his hands. His fingers were curled loosely around the arms of the chair, his knuckles white with tension.

He’s holding back too.

The realization sent a thrill down Est’s spine.

He stood abruptly, circling the desk until he was standing over William. "Get up."

William didn’t move. "Why?"

"Because I told you to."

William exhaled sharply through his nose, but he stood, bringing them chest to chest in the dim office light.

Est could see the pulse jumping in William’s throat. Could smell the faint hint of his cologne, something dark and expensive.

He wanted to ruin him.

"You’re testing my patience," Est murmured.

William’s eyes dropped to Est’s mouth. "You started this."

Est’s control snapped.

He grabbed William’s tie, yanking him down until their lips were a breath apart. "What’s that?"

William’s hands came up to grip Est’s hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "You know exactly what."

The air between them was electric, charged with everything they hadn’t said, everything they hadn’t done.

Est tightened his grip on the tie. "Say it."

William’s breath hitched.

Then-

The shrill ring of Est’s office phone shattered the moment.

They sprang apart.

William took a step back, adjusting his tie with trembling fingers. Est turned away, his chest heaving.

The phone kept ringing.

Neither of them moved to answer it.

The Monday morning elevator doors opened to reveal William already at his desk, crisp white shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, fingers flying across the keyboard with their usual lethal efficiency.

Est paused mid-step.

William's hair was slightly damp from the shower, one rebellious lock curling at his temple. The memory of that same hair darkened by rainwater flashed unbidden in Est's mind.

"Good morning, Mr. Supha." William didn't look up from his screen, but Est saw the way his shoulders tensed just slightly under the fabric of his shirt.

Est strode past without responding, catching the faintest hint of sandalwood and mint in his wake.

11:47 AM

The boardroom hummed with the energy of twenty executives, but Est was acutely aware of only one presence.

William stood at the presentation screen, laser pointer steady in his hand as he walked the group through the quarterly projections. His voice never wavered, even when Tanaka from accounting interrupted with nitpicking questions.

Est watched the way William's throat moved when he swallowed between sentences. The way his left thumb tapped rhythmically against his thigh when someone challenged his data - the only outward sign of irritation.

When their eyes met across the table, William's gaze lingered just a bit too long before returning to his notes.

Est's pen snapped between his fingers.

3:22 PM

Rain lashed against the office windows as Est reviewed contracts at his desk. The storm had followed them back from the airport.

A soft knock.

"Come."

William entered with two coffee cups balanced in one hand, files tucked under his other arm. He set one cup on Est's desk - black, no sugar, still steaming.

"You remember the 2:30 meeting with Legal?" William asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Est glanced at the coffee, then up at William's impassive face. "I'm not senile yet."

William's lips twitched. "Debatable."

The retort slipped out before he could stop it. They both froze.

A month ago, Est would have fired someone for that comment. Now, he found himself fighting a smirk.

"Get out," he said, without heat.

William turned to leave, but not before Est caught the satisfied curve of his shoulders.

7:15 PM

Most of the staff had left for the evening when Est emerged from his office to find William still at his desk, typing with one hand while massaging his temple with the other.

"You're still here."

William startled slightly. "The Henderson proposal needed revisions."

Est moved closer, noticing the slight flush high on William's cheeks. "You're sick."

"It's just a headache."

Without thinking, Est reached out, the back of his fingers brushing William's forehead. The skin was warm. Too warm.

They both froze at the contact.

William's breath hitched. Est could see the rapid pulse at the base of his throat.

"You're burning up," Est murmured, not moving his hand.

William leaned into the touch, just slightly. "I'm fine."

The moment stretched, fragile as glass.

Est pulled away first. "Go home. That's an order."

William looked up at him, eyes dark with something unreadable. "Yes, sir."

The words sent an unexpected shiver down Est's spine.

8:03 AM

Est knew something was wrong the moment William walked in.

His usually impeccable secretary was paler than the documents in his hands, his steps slightly slower. That single rebellious lock of hair fell across his forehead without its usual artful care.

"You look like death," Est remarked from his doorway.

William didn't even glance up as he set down Est's morning coffee. "Good morning to you too, sir." His voice was rougher than usual, the words slightly clipped.

Est watched the way William's fingers trembled ever so slightly as he organized the day's files. Noticed how he kept swallowing like his throat hurt. The idiot had clearly come in sick.

11:17 AM

During the marketing meeting, William was uncharacteristically quiet.

Normally he'd be the first to challenge their team's flimsy projections, but today he just sat with his perfect posture, taking notes with slightly sluggish movements. When Est deliberately made an outrageous demand just to see his reaction, William only blinked slowly before writing it down without comment.

Tanaka from accounting kept shooting William concerned looks.

Est found himself speaking louder than necessary, drawing attention away from his struggling secretary.

2:48 PM

The breaking point came when William nearly dropped an entire stack of contracts.

Est watched from his office as William caught himself at the last second, gripping the edge of his desk with whitened knuckles. Saw the way he closed his eyes for just a second too long before continuing.

Enough.

Est stood so abruptly his chair rolled back into the wall. He strode to the break room, ignoring the curious looks from junior staff.

When he returned, he slammed a steaming mug onto William's desk hard enough that the liquid sloshed over the side.

"Drink it."

William stared at the murky liquid. "What is-"

"Ginger, honey, and lemon. With whiskey." Est crossed his arms. "My housekeeper's remedy."

William's fever-bright eyes flickered up to meet his. For a moment, neither moved. Then William wrapped his long fingers around the mug, his thumb brushing Est's where it still rested on the handle.

"Thank you," he murmured, and the simple gratitude sounded more intimate than anything they'd done in that storm-dark hotel room.

Est pulled his hand away like he'd been burned.

6:55 PM

The office had emptied out when Est emerged to find William still at his desk, the empty mug beside him. He was resting his forehead in one hand, the other still moving slowly across his keyboard.

Est sighed. "You're impossible."

William didn't lift his head. "The Henderson files-"

"Can wait until tomorrow." Est grabbed William's coat from the rack and tossed it at him. "Come on."

William blinked up at him. "What?"

"You're clearly not fit to drive. I'm taking you home." Est said it like a challenge, daring William to argue.

William opened his mouth-then closed it. After a long moment, he nodded.

7:32 PM

The car ride was silent except for William's occasional sniffles. Est kept his eyes firmly on the road, refusing to acknowledge how small William looked bundled in his coat, his usual sharp edges softened by fever.

When they pulled up to William's building, Est finally turned. "Can you make it up alright?"

William unbuckled his seatbelt with clumsy fingers. "I'm not an invalid."

"Could've fooled me," Est muttered. Then, before he could stop himself: "Do you need help?"

The question hung between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

William studied him for a long moment, his gaze clearer than it had been all day despite the fever. "Yes," he said finally, so quiet Est almost didn't hear it.

Est turned off the engine.

William's apartment smelled like bergamot and old books.

Est hovered awkwardly in the doorway as William fumbled with his keys, watching the way his usually precise fingers struggled with the simple task. The elevator ride up had been silent except for William's measured breathing, the air between them thick with something neither dared to name.

"Don't just stand there," William muttered, pushing the door open. "Come in."

The command should have rankled, but Est found himself obeying without protest.

The living room was unexpectedly warm, both in temperature and decor. Where Est's own penthouse was all sharp lines and minimalist furniture, William's space felt lived-in. A well-worn leather couch piled with academic-looking books. Framed black-and-white photographs of cityscapes lining the walls. A single crooked shelf holding what appeared to be vintage vinyl records.

It was so thoroughly, undeniably William that Est's chest ached.

"Sit," William said, gesturing vaguely toward the couch as he toed off his shoes. "I'll make tea."

Est snorted. "You can barely stand upright. Sit down before you collapse."

William opened his mouth to argue, then swayed alarmingly. Est caught him by the elbow without thinking, the heat of William's skin burning through his dress shirt.

For a moment they stood frozen, Est's grip tight on William's arm, William's breath coming in shallow puffs against Est's cheek.

Then William's knees buckled.

Est barely managed to steer them both onto the couch.

William slumped against the cushions, his usually impeccable hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. His tie was crooked, his collar damp. Est fought the absurd urge to fix it.

"Bedroom," Est ordered. "Now."

William blinked up at him with glassy eyes. "That's forward of you."

Even feverish, the man couldn't stop being infuriating. Est dragged a hand down his face. "Go to sleep, you impossible-"

"I know." William's smile was tired but genuine. "Just... give me a minute."

Est watched William's eyelids flutter, his long lashes casting shadows on his flushed cheeks. Without thinking, he reached out and brushed the damp hair from William's forehead.

The touch lingered.

William leaned into it, just slightly.

Getting William to bed became a military operation.

Est half-carried, half-dragged him down the hallway, biting back a dozen inappropriate comments about William's ridiculous body built. The bedroom was as orderly as the rest of the apartment, a neatly made bed, a stack of books on the nightstand, a single framed photo of a woman who might have been William's mother.

"Can you-" William gestured vaguely at his clothes.

Est's throat went dry. "What?"

"Change. Into something... not this." William plucked at his sweat-damp shirt.

Est should have refused. Should have tossed William a t-shirt and left. But something, some stubborn, reckless part of him made him step forward instead.

"Turn around," he said, his voice rough.

William obeyed without protest.

Undressing William was an act of torture.

Est worked methodically, starting with the tie. The silk slithered free with a soft hiss. Next came the shirt buttons, each one a new revelation of warm skin and sharp collarbones. William stood perfectly still, his breathing uneven, letting Est peel the fabric from his shoulders.

When Est's fingers brushed the nape of William's neck, William shivered violently.

"Cold?" Est murmured.

William shook his head.

Est knew he should stop. Knew this had crossed some invisible line they'd never be able to uncross. But his hands kept moving, sliding the shirt down William's arms, fingertips grazing every inch of fever-hot skin.

William turned suddenly, catching Est's wrists. His eyes were dark, his breath coming fast.

"You should go," he whispered.

Est didn’t move. Couldn’t. Not when William’s fingers were still wrapped around his wrists, his skin burning with fever.

Instead, he did something even more reckless than undressing his secretary.

"I’ll go," Est said slowly, "after I’m sure you won’t die in your sleep."

William’s grip loosened slightly. "Dramatic."

"Realistic," Est corrected, pulling away. "Now lie down before you pass out."

William obeyed, collapsing onto the bed with a quiet sigh. Est busied himself with finding pajamas, ignoring how intimate it felt to rifle through William’s drawers and tossed them at him.

"Change. I’ll find medicine."

The kitchen was painfully clean and everything was lying in orderly.

Est rummaged through cabinets with uncharacteristic care, as if afraid to disrupt the careful balance of William’s life. He found a bottle of fever reducers behind the tea canister, as though William had anticipated needing them but wanted them out of sight.

When he returned, William had managed to change into sleep clothes, though the top button of his pajama shirt was undone, revealing a sliver of flushed collarbone. He looked younger like this-softer. Vulnerable.

Est’s throat tightened.

"Here." He handed William the pills and a glass of water.

William’s fingers brushed his as he took it. "Since when do you play nurse?"

"Since my secretary decided to be a stubborn ass," Est shot back, but there was no bite to it.

William swallowed the medicine with a wince, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Est watched, mesmerized, until William caught him staring.

"What?"

"Nothing." Est snatched the glass back. "Just making sure you don’t choke."

William’s lips twitched. "Liar."

Est didn’t mean to watch him sleep.

He told himself he was just checking William’s temperature, just ensuring the fever wasn’t getting worse. But the way William’s lashes fanned against his cheeks, the way his breathing evened out as he drifted off, it was unfairly endearing.

Cute.

The thought startled him. William wasn’t cute. William was sharp edged and biting wit, a force of nature in the office.

And yet.

Est realized he’d been staring too long when William murmured something incoherent and turned onto his side, curling slightly into the pillow.

Pathetic, Est scolded himself, stepping back.

The fridge was depressingly empty.

Est scowled at the contents, a half-empty takeout container, a sad-looking lemon, a single egg. No real food. No groceries.

He thought of William’s meticulous work ethic, the long hours he kept. How many meals had he skipped because of Est’s demands?

The guilt was unfamiliar. Unwelcome.

Est rolled up his sleeves.

The porridge was terrible.

Est wasn’t a cook. He wasn’t a caretaker. But somehow, he found himself standing over William’s stove, stirring a pot of rice and broth into something resembling congee. It was too thick in some places, too watery in others, but it was edible.

He left it on the nightstand with a note. “Eat this or I’ll fire you,”and a bottle of water.

William didn’t stir.

Est paused in the doorway.

He told himself he was just making sure William was still breathing. Just being responsible.

But the truth was harder to ignore.

He didn’t want to leave.

The realization was enough to send him striding out of the apartment without another glance back.

The drive home was too quiet.

Est replayed the night in his head, the way William had leaned into his touch, the warmth of his skin, the quiet trust when he’d let Est help him change.

Why did I do that?

He didn’t have an answer.

William woke up feeling human again.

The fever had broken sometime in the night, leaving only a slight heaviness in his limbs. Sunlight streamed through the curtains as he stretched, the events of last night returning to him in fragments, Est’s hands on his buttons, the gruff concern in his voice, the way he’d lingered in the doorway like he didn’t want to leave.

William pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. Still warm, but better. Thanks god I have the day off today, he thought to himself.

He shuffled to the bathroom, brushing his teeth with one hand while the other braced against the sink. His reflection looked exhausted but… lighter, somehow.

Then he remembered the porridge. The memories from last night flashed back, when he was half asleep he heard some cooking noises from the kitchen and Est’s voice that sounded not quite satisfied with the result of how his porridge came out.

The kitchen still smelled faintly of burnt rice.

William stared at the pot left on the stove, the congealed remains of Est’s attempt at cooking. A laugh bubbled up in his chest. He really stayed to cook this.

Next to it, a note in Est’s sharp handwriting:

Eat this or I’ll fire you.

William traced the words with his finger, smiling. The threat was empty, and they both knew it.

He scraped the porridge into a bowl, reheating it just enough to make it edible again. It was still terrible, too salty in some bites, weirdly bland in others, but William ate every last spoonful.

His phone sat heavy in his pocket.

William rarely texted Est outside of work. Their messages were always clipped, professional, meeting reminders, document confirmations, the occasional you’re late.

But this was different.

He adjusted his glasses, the thin, wire-framed ones he only wore at home and snapped a photo of the empty bowl. Then, after a moment’s of hesitation, a quick selfie, making sure the glasses were visible.

The message took three drafts:

1. Thank you for the food. I’m recovering well. (Too formal.)
2. You’re a terrible cook, but I ate it all anyway. (Too teasing.)
3. Didn’t know Mr. Supha could cook. Thank you. I finished everything.

Attachments: [Empty bowl] [Glasses selfie]

He added a sticker, a cartoon bear clutching a heart, before he could overthink it and hit send.

Est’s phone buzzed during his morning meeting.

He ignored it at first, focusing on the quarterly report Tanaka was droning about. But when it buzzed again and then a third time, he finally glanced down.

William annoying assistant: *1 attachment*
William annoying assistant: *1 attachment*
William annoying assistant: *sticker*

Est’s thumb hovered over the screen. This was… unusual.

The first image loaded, the empty bowl, scraped clean. Est’s stomach did something strange.

The second image hit him like a punch to the ribs.

William. In glasses. Hair slightly messy from sleep, cheeks still faintly flushed, smiling softly at the camera like he’d let Est in on a private joke.

Est’s breath caught.

Tanaka cleared her throat. "Mr. Supha? Your thoughts?"

Est locked his phone with a snap. "We’ll revisit this tomorrow."

The reply took fifteen minutes to craft.

Handsome boss Mr. Supha: *Are you insane? You didn’t have to eat all of that.*
Handsome boss Mr. Supha: *I know it was terrible. You’re still feverish, you shouldn’t force yourself.*

William’s response came instantly.

William annoying assistant: *It wasn’t terrible.*
William annoying assistant: *…Okay, it was a little terrible. But I liked it.*
William annoying assistant: *sticker (bear waving excitedly)*

Est stared at the cartoon bear, its exaggerated sparkles and wide eyes so un-William-like that a laugh escaped before he could stop it.

His assistant peeked in. "Sir?"

"Nothing," Est said, schooling his face into blankness. "Leave me alone."

Once he was left alone, he saved both photos to his phone.

William rarely wore his glasses to work.

They were for late nights and headaches, for lazy Sundays reading in bed. But this morning, as he adjusted the thin silver frames in his bathroom mirror, he couldn’t stop thinking about the photo, the way Est had liked it with the heart emoji.

Just to see what happens,, William told himself, slipping his contacts case into his pocket.

The office noticed immediately.

Lisa from HR was the first. "Mr. Jakrapatr! Are those new glasses?"

William smiled politely. "Just an old pair."

"They suit you," she said, a little too warmly.

By the time he reached his desk, three more colleagues had complimented him. A junior intern actually blushed when he thanked her.

William pretended not to notice the way Est’s office door was slightly ajar, just enough to see out.

Est was losing his mind.

From his vantage point, he had a perfect view of William’s desk and the small crowd gathering around it.

Since when did the entire office become so interested in optometry?

William looked… different. The glasses sharpened his already-perfect cheekbones, made his eyes darker, more intense. When he pushed them up the bridge of his nose with one elegant finger, Est’s stomach did something traitorous.

Then Marketing’s new hire leaned too close, laughing at something William said, and Est saw red.

The email was unnecessary.

To: All Staff
From: E.Supha
Subject: Productivity
Reminder: Personal conversations should not interfere with work hours.

William read it twice before biting back a smile.

Lunch was a tactical retreat.

Est emerged from his office precisely at noon, intending to escape before William could-

"Mr. Supha."

William stood in his path, glasses glinting under the fluorescent lights. Up close, they made his eyes impossibly deeper, like pools Est could drown in.

"You’re blocking the hallway," Est said stiffly.

William adjusted his glasses a slow, deliberate movement. "I wanted to ask if you had lunch plans."

Est’s pulse jumped. "Why?"

"Because I brought extra." William held up a takeout bag from Est’s favorite restaurant. "Consider it thanks for the porridge."

It was a peace offering. A trap.

Est took the bag.

They ate in tense silence.

Est’s office door was closed, the blinds drawn. William sat across from him, chopsticks moving gracefully as he ate. Every so often, the light would catch his lenses, obscuring his eyes and Est found himself missing the clarity of his gaze.

"You’re staring," William said without looking up.

Est scoffed. "At what? Your terrible table manners?"

William pushed his glasses up again. "You like them."

"I tolerate them."

"Liar." William’s smile was knowing. "You saved the photo."

Est’s chopsticks slipped. "How do you-"

"Your read receipt was on."

Damn technology.

The afternoon passed in a haze.

Est caught no less than five staff members "accidentally" walking past William’s desk. Each time, his grip on his pen tightened.

By 3 PM, he’d had enough.

"William," he barked, throwing open his door. "Conference room. Now."

Whispers followed them down the hall.

The second the door closed, Est snapped.

"Take them off."

William blinked. "My glasses?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because-" Est’s voice caught. Because they made William look too soft. Because the entire office was looking at him like he was something to be won. Because Est couldn’t think straight when William peered at him over those damned frames.

William stepped closer. "Make me."

The air between them crackled.

Est reached out-

A knock at the door.

"Mr. Supha?" Tanaka’s voice. "The meeting at 3:30-"

William smiled, adjusting his glasses one last time. "Saved by the call."

William had left them there on purpose.

Est was sure of it.

The glasses sat innocently on the corner of his desk, silver frames catching the evening light, lenses slightly smudged from William’s fingerprints. He’d "forgotten" them after their last meeting, shooting Est an unreadable look before leaving the office.

Testing me, Est thought, glaring at the offending object.

He should have left them there. Should have ignored them entirely.

Instead, he picked them up.

They were warm.

Est told himself it was just residual heat from the office, but the longer he held them, the more he imagined the weight of them on William’s face, perched on the bridge of his nose, framing those dark eyes, making him look unfairly soft in a way that made Est’s chest ache.

He turned them over in his hands, tracing the delicate hinges. They were expensive, he realized. Custom-made. The kind of glasses someone only bought if they intended to wear them regularly.

Which meant William didn’t need to wear contacts.

Which meant he’d worn them today for a reason.

Est’s grip tightened.

It happened almost in slow motion.

One second, the glasses were in his hands. The next-

A sharp snap.

Est froze.

The left temple piece dangled uselessly from the frame, the tiny screw lost somewhere on the carpet.

Shit.

Est was many things, but he wasn’t a coward.

He could have pretended it never happened. Could have left the broken glasses on William’s desk with no explanation.

But instead, he found himself Googling best optometrists in Bangkok at 11 PM, scrolling through reviews with a singular focus.

William’s prescription was still tucked in the case.

Just fixing what I broke, Est told himself. Nothing more.

The new glasses arrived the next morning.

Est had chosen them carefully, similar enough to the originals to avoid suspicion, but with a subtle difference. The frames were black instead of silver, slightly thicker, more modern. More Est likely.

He left the box on William’s desk with no note.

William found him in the break room.

Est didn’t turn around, but he knew it was him from the way the air shifted, from the sudden tension prickling down his spine.

"You broke my glasses," William said, voice low.

Est sipped his coffee. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

A hand slammed onto the counter next to him, caging him in. William leaned close, his breath warm against Est’s ear.

"Liar."

Est turned and froze.

William was wearing the new glasses.

And he looked devastating.

"They suit you," Est said before he could stop himself.

William’s lips curved. "You picked them."

It wasn’t a question.

Est didn’t deny it.

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them thick with something unspoken. Then William straightened, adjusting the frames with a slow, deliberate motion.

"Next time," he murmured, "just ask to see me in them."

And with that, he walked away, leaving Est alone with his racing heart and the dawning realization that he was in very deep trouble.

William wore the new glasses every. Damn. Day.

And worse-he knew what they did to Est. He'd adjust them slowly during meetings, peering over the frames with those unfairly dark eyes. He'd clean the lenses with deliberate strokes of his shirt collar, exposing the sharp line of his throat.

Est was losing his mind.

"Your husband has such an eye for detail," Mrs. Lim said, patting William's arm.

The entire conference room froze.

William choked on his water. Tanaka's pen clattered to the floor. Est's brain short-circuited.

"I-we're not-" William tried.

Mrs. Lim waved him off. "Oh, don't be modest. The way you two work together, it's like watching a dance! A couple dance!!" She turned to Est. "You're very lucky."

Est opened his mouth. Closed it.

William adjusted his glasses, those fucking glasses and said nothing.

Tanaka's spreadsheet had reached legendary status.

"Current odds are 3:1 they'll kiss before Friday," she whispered to Lisa by the coffee machine.

Est slammed his cup down hard enough to make them both jump. "Don't you have work to do?"

They scattered.

It happened in the supply closet.

William had followed him in, claiming they needed to "discuss the Henderson files." As if there weren't a dozen better places to do that. As if Est didn't know exactly what game he was playing.

The second the door closed, William crowded him against the shelves, a ream of paper digging into Est's back.

"You've been staring at my mouth all day," William murmured, adjusting his glasses. "Problem, Mr. Supha?"

Something in Est snapped.

It wasn't gentle.

Est grabbed William by the collar and yanked him down, their mouths crashing together in a mess of teeth and pent-up frustration. William made a startled noise, then kissed back just as fiercely, his hands finding Est's hips and pulling him flush against him.

The glasses dug uncomfortably into Est's cheekbone. He didn't care.

William bit his lower lip, and Est groaned, his fingers tangling in William's hair-

The door handle jiggled.

They sprang apart just as Tanaka peeked in.

"Oops," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "Wrong closet."

The second the door closed again, William burst out laughing, bright and unguarded, his glasses askew, his lips kiss-swollen.

Est stared, his chest aching.

"Shut up," he muttered, pulling him in again.

Tanaka was waiting outside the supply closet with a shit-eating grin.

William straightened his tie, unbothered. Est, on the other hand, wanted to melt into the floor.

"Pay up, Lisa," Tanaka called down the hall. "I told you it would be today."

Est glared. "You’re fired."

"You can’t fire me for winning the betting pool," Tanaka said, unfazed. "HR approved it."

William snorted. Est elbowed him.

By lunchtime, the entire company knew.

Junior staff whispered as they passed. The finance team kept "accidentally" needing William’s signature on documents. Even the stoic head of security gave Est a thumbs-up.

William took it all in stride, sipping his coffee like he hadn’t just upended Est’s entire professional reputation.

"This is your fault," Est muttered.

William adjusted his glasses, God, those glasses, and smirked. "You’re the one who kissed me."

"I-" Est’s voice cracked. "You provoked me."

William leaned in, close enough that Est could smell his stupid sandalwood cologne. "And you liked it."

Est had no rebuttal.

William started wearing the glasses less at work.

Instead, they became a private thing, something only Est got to see.

Like when William would slide them onto his nose late at night in Est’s penthouse, poring over documents in bed. Or when he’d peer over the frames in the elevator, making sure they were alone before kissing Est senseless.

It was worse than before, somehow. More intimate. More dangerous.

Est was doomed.

It hit him at 3 AM, William asleep beside him, glasses still slightly askew on his face.

Est reached out, carefully removing them and setting them on the nightstand. William stirred but didn’t wake, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

I’m in love with you, Est thought, the realization settling over him like a weighted blanket.

William mumbled something incoherent and curled into Est’s side.

Est sighed.

I’m so fucked.

The annual Supha Holdings gala was supposed to be boring.

Black-tie. Open bar. The same dull small talk with investors who cared more about profit margins than people.

Then he showed up.

Richard Cho - CEO of Luxe Capital, Est’s biggest rival had the audacity to slide into William’s space like a snake, his hand lingering too long on William’s elbow.

“We’d love to have someone of your talents at Luxe,” Cho purred, loud enough for nearby guests to hear. “Name your price.”

William opened his mouth to respond-

“He’s not for sale.”

The crowd parted as Est strode forward, his champagne flute clutched tight enough to shatter.

Cho blinked. “I didn’t realize-”

“Clearly.”Est stepped between them, close enough that his shoulder brushed William’s. “Mr. Jakrapatr isn’t just my secretary. He’s-”

Mine. The word burned his tongue.

William’s fingers brushed the small of Est’s back steadying or staking his own claim, Est wasn’t sure.

Cho looked between them, realization dawning him. “Ah. That kind of partnership.”

Est didn’t correct him.

The room erupted.

Tanaka choked on her cocktail. Lisa dropped her clutch. The CFO’s wife actually fanned herself.

William leaned down, his lips grazing Est’s ear. “That’s going in the company newsletter.”

Est’s face burned. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And oh, Est wanted to. Right there in front of everyone.

The band struck up a waltz.

Before Est could react, William spun him onto the dance floor, one hand firm on his waist, the other clasping his like they’d done this a thousand times.

“You don’t dance,” Est hissed as William guided them into the steps.

William’s thumb stroked his hip. “I do now.”

Around them, phones flashed. Est didn’t care.

Let them see.

Later, in the privacy of the penthouse, William finally removed his glasses, setting them carefully on the nightstand before turning to Est.

“You know,” he murmured, unknotting Est’s tie with deliberate slowness, “for someone who hates scandals, you caused quite the scene tonight.”

Est caught his wrist. “Worth it.”

William stilled.

Three words bubbled up in Est’s throat. Instead, he kissed him, soft this time, pouring everything he couldn’t say into the press of lips.

William smiled against his mouth. “I know.”

Tanaka’s whiteboard had evolved into a full-fledged crime board.

"TOP/BOTTOM EVIDENCE TRACKER" was scrawled across the top in bold letters, followed by a disturbing collection of bullet points:

- *William pinned Est against the copier yesterday (TOP VIBES)*
- *Est made William redo his coffee 3x times (POWER PLAY???)*
- *William’s hickey sighting (EST’S MARK??)*

Lisa squinted at the last one. “That was a pen stain.”

Tanaka waved her off. “Allegedly.”

Exhibit A: William carrying Est’s briefcase to the car.
Consensus: Submissive boyfriend behavior.
Reality: Est had thrown out his shoulder rage-golfing.

Exhibit B: Est feeding William sushi at lunch.
Consensus: Dominant display of ownership.
Reality: William had lost a bet about the stock market.

Exhibit C: William adjusting Est’s tie in the elevator.
Consensus: Top energy.
Reality: Est had been too distracted by William’s lips to tie it properly.

The truth is-

They hadn’t slept together.

Not for lack of wanting. There had been heated kisses against the fridge, hands shoved under shirts, breathless nights on Est’s couch where they almost crossed the line, but every time, one of them pulled back.

Est blamed work stress. William blamed early meetings.

Both were lying.

It happened during a team dinner.

“-so obviously William’s the dom,” Tanaka stage-whispered to Finance. “Did you see how he-”

“We’re switch.”

The table froze.

William had spoken without looking up from his steak, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in the middle of the restaurant.

Est choked on his wine.

Tanaka’s eyes gleamed. “Elaborate on that.”

William finally glanced up, smirking at Est’s horrified expression. “We haven’t decided yet.”

The table erupted. Est wanted to die.

“Switch?” Est hissed in the car.

William shrugged. “They’ll never guess the truth now.”

“Which is?”

“That you’re a blushing virgin and it’s your first time with the man,” William teased.

Est lunged across the seat.

William’s back hit the penthouse door the second it closed, Est’s hands fisted in his shirt.

“We’re deciding tonight,” Est growled.

William’s breath hitched. “Yeah?”

Est kissed him-hard, then pulled back just as quickly. “Tomorrow. After the merger closes.”

William groaned, thumping his head against the door. “Cruel.”

Est stalked away before he changed his mind.

The papers were signed.

The champagne was popped.

And across the crowded conference room, William’s gaze burned into Est’s with a single, unspoken question:

Now?

Est took a deliberate sip of his drink, letting the bubbles sting his tongue before giving the slightest nod.

William’s glass hit the table a little too hard.

“We’re leaving,” Est announced, grabbing William’s wrist.

Tanaka choked on her canapé. “But the celebration-”

“Is over,” William finished smoothly, already shrugging into his coat. “Mr. Supha has a very important debrief scheduled.”

The way he said debrief made Est’s ears burn.

The second the doors closed, William crowded Est against the mirrored wall.

“No more excuses,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of Est’s ear.

Est’s grip tightened on William’s hips. “I wasn’t making excuses. I was being professional.”

William laughed, a dark, delicious sound that went straight to Est’s groin. “Liar.”

The elevator dinged. Garage level.

Silence.

Not the comfortable kind they’d grown into over months of late nights and shared takeout. This was thick, charged, dangerous, the kind of silence that came before storms and wars and life-altering decisions.

Est gripped the steering wheel tighter.

William adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers.

Neither spoke.

The door hadn’t even fully closed before William was on him.

Hands in hair. Teeth on lips. The familiar scent of sandalwood and stupidly expensive cologne flooding Est’s senses. They stumbled through the foyer, a tangle of limbs and muffled curses, until-

Thud.

William’s back hit the bedroom door.

They froze, chests heaving, mouths inches apart.

Est swallowed hard. “Last chance to back out.”

William’s smile was all challenge. “Make me.”

William kissed him like he was memorizing the shape of Est's mouth-slow, thorough, devastating. His hands cradled Est's face, thumbs brushing the high arches of his cheekbones as he backed them toward the bed.

"Tell me to stop," William murmured against his lips.

Est's fingers dug into William's hips. "Don't you fucking dare."

Buttons scattered across the floor.

William made quick work of Est's shirt, his knuckles grazing bare skin with each flick of his wrists. Est shuddered when clever fingers found his nipples, pinching just shy of rough, drawing a ragged gasp from his throat.

"Sensitive," William noted, grinning.

Est retaliated by yanking William's belt free with a sharp tug. "Less talking."

William laughed, low and warm, before sinking to his knees.

Est had never been touched like this by a man.

William's mouth was hot and wicked, his tongue tracing the length of Est's cock through his briefs before hooking the waistband with his teeth. The fabric slid down, and then-

"Fuck-"

William swallowed him whole.

Est's knees buckled. His hands flew to William's hair, tangling in the dark strands as William worked him with lips and tongue and just the right amount of teeth. Every flick, every hum, every deep-throated pull sent lightning down Est's spine.

"William-wait-" Est tugged him off with a gasp. "I'm not-I won't last-"

William licked his lips, pupils blown black. "Good."

The bed dipped under their weight.

William kissed him again, slow and filthy, as he slicked his fingers with lube. The first press against Est's entrance made them both freeze.

"Okay?" William murmured.

Est nodded, his breath coming fast.

William's finger slid in with torturous patience, crooking just right on the next thrust. Est arched off the bed with a choked-off moan.

"There?" William asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes."

A second finger stretched him, then a third, each movement calculated to wring pleasure from Est's body until he was shaking, begging, needing-

William lined himself up, his cock pressing against Est's entrance. "Look at me."

Est did.

The first push burned-just for a moment before giving way to a fullness that stole Est's breath. William bottomed out with a groan, his forehead dropping to Est's shoulder as he fought for control.

"Move," Est demanded.

William obeyed.

Slow at first, then deeper, harder, each thrust hitting that perfect spot until Est was seeing stars. The slap of skin, the creak of the bed, the broken sounds falling from their lips-it was too much and not enough all at once.

William's hand wrapped around Est's cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. "Come for me."

Est shattered.

William followed him over the edge with a groan, his hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside.

William collapsed beside him, both of them sticky and spent and utterly ruined.

Est stared at the ceiling, his pulse still racing. "...Huh."

William turned his head. "Eloquent."

Est flipped him off.

William laughed, pulling Est against his chest.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting stripes across tangled limbs. Est woke first-an unusual occurrence.

William usually rose at dawn, all crisp efficiency even on weekends. But today, he lay sprawled half on top of Est, face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing slow and even.

Est didn't move. Didn't dare.

Somehow, this felt more intimate than anything they'd done last night.

William stirred when Est carded fingers through his sleep-mussed hair.

"Mmf. Is it already a time to wake up?"

"No, it’s still too early," Est murmured. "Go back to sleep."

William lifted his head, blinking blearily without his glasses. His cheek bore a crease from the pillowcase. Est's chest ached.

Then William's knee slid between Est's thighs.

It happened in increments:

1. William's lips brushing Est's collarbone.
2. A hand sliding down Est's sleep-warm flank.
3. The realization that neither of them was wearing pants.

Est's breath hitched. "You're tired."

William nipped his shoulder. "Not that tired."

What followed wasn't like last night's frantic coupling-all sharp teeth and desperate hands. This was slow. Sweet. William's mouth trailing downward with unhurried intent, pausing to lick the dip of Est's hipbone.

Est tensed. "You don't have to-"

William looked up through his lashes. "I want to."

The raw honesty in his voice shattered
Est completely.

William didn't give him time to overthink it.

One moment, Est was propped up on his elbows, watching with rapt attention as William mouthed at the sensitive skin of his hip. The next-

Oh.

William's tongue dragged a slow, torturous stripe up the length of him before swallowing him down in one smooth motion.

Est's back arched off the bed, a strangled curse tearing from his throat.

His fingers scrambled for purchase in William's hair, torn between pulling him closer and shoving him away before this ended embarrassingly fast.

William hummed around him, the vibrations wringing a broken moan from Est's chest.

Fuck. Fuck.

Est wasn't sure when they switched positions-only that one moment he was gasping into the sheets, and the next, William was beneath him, grinning up at him with spit-slick lips and blown pupils.

"Your turn," William murmured, dragging Est down by the nape of his neck.

Est kissed him hard, tasting himself on William's tongue.

William was loud.

Est had never done this before.

He knew the mechanics, of course-had seen enough in films, had even fantasized about it more than he'd ever admit-but the reality was different. The weight of William against his tongue, the salt-bitter taste of him, the way his breath hitched when Est experimentally swirled his tongue around the head-this was nothing like he'd imagined.

William's fingers carded through his hair, gentle at first. "You're thinking too much," he murmured, voice already wrecked.

Est pulled off with a wet sound. "Then tell me what to do."

William's eyes darkened.

His grip tightened.

And then-

Pressure.

Est's lips stretched around the thick length as William guided him down, down, until his nose brushed coarse hair and his throat convulsed. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

"Breathe through your nose," William instructed, thumb stroking the hinge of Est's jaw. "Relax your throat."

Est tried. God, he tried. But when William experimentally rolled his hips up, Est gagged, pulling back with a choked cough.

William didn't let him go far. "Again."

And Est-proud, stubborn, desperate Est obeyed.

William wasn't gentle.

He fucked into Est's mouth with shallow thrusts, his grip on Est's hair bordering on painful. Every time Est pulled away, William dragged him back, murmuring filthy praise that made Est's cock throb in his slacks.

"So good for me," William groaned, tilting Est's head back to watch his lips stretch around him. "Taking me so deep-fuck-just like that."

Est moaned around him, the vibration wringing a curse from William's lips.

Then-

"Swallow."

Est barely had time to process the command before hot bitterness flooded his tongue. He coughed, some of it dripping down his chin, but William held him firm until he'd taken every last drop.

William pulled him up by the hair, crashing their mouths together in a searing kiss. Est could taste himself on William's tongue-could feel the smug satisfaction in the way William licked into his mouth, possessive and claiming.

"You," Est panted against his lips, "are obnoxiously loud."

William grinned, all teeth. "You love it."

Est did.

After-when they were both sticky and sated and embarrassingly emotional-William collapsed onto Est's chest with a groan.

"We've been idiots," he mumbled into Est's sternum.

Est huffed a laugh, fingers still tangled in William's hair. "Speak for yourself."

William lifted his head. His lips were pink. Kiss-swollen. Used. Est's stomach flipped.

"Admit it," William said. "You liked this more than last night."

Est couldn't even deny it.

They'd spent months arguing over who was top or bottom.

Turns out, they were both just his.

Just after having some more time of sleep, Est woke up to warmth.

William's arm was slung heavy over his waist, his breath steady against Est's bare shoulder. The penthouse was silent except for the faint hum of the city below, the sheets tangled around their legs like proof of what they'd finally done.

Est's skin still burned with it.

Carefully, he extracted himself, pressing a fleeting kiss to William's temple before padding to the bathroom.

The water was scalding.

Est braced his hands against the tiles, letting the heat sear away the last of his lingering hesitation. Months of will-they-won't-they, of office bets and stolen glances, all reduced to this: the ache in his thighs, the bite marks on his neck, the way William had-

The glass door slid open.

Est didn't turn. He didn't need to.

"You left," William murmured, voice still rough with sleep.

Est exhaled. "I'm here."

A hand slid around his waist. William's chest pressed against his back, skin slick with steam.

"Prove it," William whispered, biting his earlobe.

William pinned him against the shower wall, fingers digging into his hips as he fucked into him with the same relentless precision he used to run meetings. Est gasped, his forehead pressed to the glass, watching the way William's hands looked wrapped around him-like they'd always been meant to.

"Mine," William growled, bending him further over.

Est moaned, pushing back against him. Yours.

When they finally stumbled out, damp and sated, the bathroom mirror was fogged with more than steam.

William smirked, tracing a finger through the condensation where Est's hand had smeared it. "Tanaka would have a field day with this."

Est swatted his ass. "Don't you dare."

William just laughed, pulling him back to bed.

Est dozed off again, wrapped in the warmth of William's arms and the scent of sex and sandalwood. He dreamed of nothing-just quiet, just peace.

Then his stomach growled.

He blinked awake, the late morning light filtering through the curtains. The bed beside him was empty, but the sheets were still warm.

And the apartment smelled like food.

William stood at the stove, humming under his breath, wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants.

Est's breath caught.

The muscles of William's back shifted as he stirred something in a pan, the sweatpants hanging just enough to reveal the dimples at the base of his spine. His hair was still damp from the shower, curling slightly at the nape of his neck.

Est's mouth watered-and not just from the food.

He could walk up behind him, press against him, nip at his shoulder-

Or he could stay here, watching, memorizing this moment. The domesticity of it was almost more intimate than anything they'd done last night.

William turned, catching him staring.

"Hungry?" he asked, smirking.

Est's gaze dropped to the sweatpants. Very.

William rolled his eyes. "Food first."

"You're cruel."

"And you're predictable." William pointed the spatula at him. "Eat. Then we'll see."

Est groaned but obeyed, sliding onto a stool at the island.

William set a plate in front of him, perfectly crispy bacon, eggs just how he liked them, toast with the crusts cut off.

Est blinked. "You remembered."

William leaned in, kissing him slow and sweet. "I remember everything."

Chapter Text

The office buzzed the second the elevator doors opened.

Est walked in first, his usual sharp suit perfectly pressed, his expression as unreadable as ever. But there was something different, a looseness in his shoulders, a faint red mark just above his collar that no amount of concealer could fully hide.

William followed, sipping his coffee, his glasses perched lazily on his nose. He looked insufferably pleased with himself.

The whispers started immediately.

By the Coffee Machine:
“Look at Mr. Supha’s neck, no way he’s the top.”
“Are you blind? That man radiates dominant energy.”
“But William’s smirking like he won the lottery-”

In Accounting:
“Did you see how William fixed his tie earlier? Total power move.”
“But Est let him. That’s a top move right there.”
“Unless he’s a service top-”

At Tanaka’s Desk (Where the Betting Pool Now Has Graphs):
“I’m telling you, they’re switch. Look at the way Est’s staring at him like he wants to either kill him or kiss him.”
“Or both.”

Lisa cornered William by the printer. “Okay, what’s the deal?”

William took a slow sip of coffee. “What deal?”

“You know what deal.” She lowered her voice. “Who’s… you know.” She made a vague hand gesture.

William smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“William.”

He adjusted his glasses, leaning in just enough to make her lean closer. “Let’s just say… the betting pool is way off.”

Then he walked away, leaving her gaping.

The entire office was hyper-aware of them now.

The way Est’s hand lingered on William’s lower back when they passed in the hall.
The way William would lean over Est’s desk just a little too close, his breath ghosting over Est’s ear.

The way the blinds in Est’s office mysteriously closed every time they had a “private meeting.”

Tanaka started a new betting pool-*How Long Until They Get Caught?*

By lunch, the entire company had reached one unanimous conclusion:

Whatever they were doing, they were really good at it.

The intern was everyone's new obsession.

Tall. Charming. A smile that made the accounting department collectively swoon. And worst of all-he didn't know the rules.

Because in his first week, Est had been traveling, leaving William to handle the onboarding. By the time Est finally walked into the office, Daniel had already charmed half the staff.

And then he saw the CEO.

His eyes widened. His cheeks pinked. And William's grip on his coffee cup turned lethal.

Daniel was relentless.

He "accidentally" brought Est double-shot espressos (William always made his coffee).

He laughed too loudly at Est's driest jokes (William's job).

He even adjusted Est's tie in the break room (William's favorite job).

Worst of all? Est was nice back.

Not flirty. Not interested. But kind in a way he usually reserved for William alone.

William's patience snapped.

It happened after Daniel leaned over Est's desk, his stupidly perfect biceps flexing as he pointed at something on a document. Est had smiled at him.

William was across the room in seconds.

"We need to talk." He grabbed Est's wrist and dragged him into his office before anyone could react.

The door slammed. The blinds snapped shut.

"What the hell-" Est started.

William shoved him into his chair and dropped to his knees.

Est's breath hitched. "William-"

"Quiet." William's hands slid up his thighs. "Unless you want the whole office to hear."

Then the knocking started.

"Mr. Supha?" Daniel's voice. "Do you have a minute?"

William's grin turned feral.

Est panicked.

Est yanked William under the desk just as the door opened.

Daniel strode in, oblivious, holding a file.
"I just wanted to go over these numbers with you-"

"Great." Est's voice cracked as William's fingers found his zipper.

Daniel blinked. "Are you... alright? You look flushed."

"Fine." Est clenched his jaw as William's tongue traced the seam of his boxers. "Just-busy."

Daniel launched into his presentation. William launched his own presentation.

Est was going to die.

When Daniel told a joke, Est laughed.

Big mistake.

William's retaliation was immediate, a sharp bite to his inner thigh, then a very thorough blowjob that had Est white-knuckling the armrests.

Daniel frowned. "You sure you're not sick?"

"No, everything perfect." Est's voice was strangled. "Just-wrap it up."

The second the door closed, William emerged, lips swollen, eyes dark with victory.

Est was a wreck-hair mussed, pants undone, his cock still wet from William's mouth.

"You're insane," Est gasped.

William licked his lips. "And you're mine."

Daniel from IT just wanted to fix the Wi-Fi.

He did not expect to find his CEO half-under his own desk, shirt rumpled, lips suspiciously red-

“Out,” Est growled.

Daniel fled.

(He later submitted his resignation. HR convinced him to stay with a very generous raise.)

The boardroom fell silent when William strolled in, Est’s signature navy silk tie knotted loosely around his neck.

Est’s pen snapped in half.

William smirked, adjusting his glasses with one hand while the other casually brushed over the fabric. “Problem, Mr. Supha?”

Tanaka kicked Lisa under the table. “Told you.”

Punch learned nothing from Daniel’s trauma.

She swung open Est’s door without knocking, only to find William straddling Est’s lap, his fingers tangled in Est’s hair.

William didn’t even stop. He just waved.

Punch backed out slowly. “I’ll… reschedule.”

The cleaning crew found it first.

By morning, the entire office knew:

1. The tie was Est’s.
2. It was definitely not there for professional reasons.
3. William was absolutely responsible.

Est threatened to fire everyone who looked at him wrong.

(No one believed him.)

- A love bite just visible above his collar
- Est’s cufflinks on his desk
- A very incriminating note (”My office. 3 PM. Don’t be late.” -E) left in the break room

Tanaka started selling ”Survived the CEO/Secretary Apocalypse” merch.

Est cornered William in the supply closet. “Enough.”

William grinned, unrepentant. “You love it.”

Est kissed him hard.

(They were absolutely caught again.)

It started subtly:

- The interns made them matching coffee mugs ("World's Bossiest CEO" / "World's Most Annoying Secretary")
- Finance quietly added "Relationship Maintenance" to the company budget
- Someone replaced the office Wi-Fi password with *WilliamTops?*

Est tried to act annoyed. He failed.

The betting pool had spiraled out of control.

What started as harmless gossip had somehow attracted investors. By the time William wore Est’s tie to the quarterly review, Tanaka’s side hustle had:

*Gone viral on LinkedIn*
*Been featured in a business journal*("Modern Workplace Culture: A Case Study")
*Earned her enough to retire at 30*

She celebrated by buying everyone lunch, including Est and William.

"You’re my favorite business expense," she told them.

It happened during a very important client meeting.

William leaned over to whisper something in Est’s ear-

And Est laughed.

Not the sharp, sarcastic chuckle the office knew. A real, unfiltered laugh.

The client stared. The employees gasped. Tanaka fainted.

Lisa from HR quietly updated the employee handbook:
"Romantic relationships between executives and their assistants are... strongly encouraged?"

Tanaka’s last betting pool was simple:

*"When Will They Get Married?"*

Options included:
*At the office (chaotic)*
*In secret (boring)*
*Mid-argument (inevitable)*

William placed $10,000 on *"During a board meeting."*

Est didn’t veto it.

They never did tell the office who topped.

But when Est pinned William against the elevator wall one evening, kissing him breathless in full view of the security cameras the answer became very clear.

Not that it mattered.

Because at the end of the day, they were each other’s.

Chapter Text

Est had been gone for three days.

Three. Entire. Days.

William was losing his mind.

He missed Est’s grumbling in the morning. Missed the way he’d glare at his coffee like it had personally offended him. Missed the way his hands would slide under William’s shirt after hours, pressing him into the nearest flat surface-

Nope. Not thinking about that.

William groaned, flopping onto the couch.

This was torture.

William answered the call in those sweatpants.

The ones that hung low on his hips. The ones Est had very strong opinions about.

Est’s screen flickered to life and his expression went dark.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

William smirked, stretching lazily. “Missing me, Mr. Supha?”

Est’s jaw clenched. “Take them off.”

William pretended to consider it. “Make me.”

It started almost innocently.

William, sprawled across their bed, phone pressed to his ear. Est, in his too-sterile hotel room, voice rough with want.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

William laughed. “Your tie.”

A sharp inhale. “Liar.”

“Am I?” William dragged the silk between his fingers, imagining it was Est’s hand. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Silence. Then-

“When I get back, you’re not leaving that bed for a week.”

William shivered.

William's phone buzzed at 1:17 AM.

He answered immediately, the screen illuminating his bare chest, the sheets pooled low around his hips. Est's face filled the screen-his tie loosened, his hotel room dim behind him, his eyes already raking over William like he could touch him through the screen.

"Couldn't sleep?" William teased, dragging a finger down his own sternum.

Est's voice was rough. "Take them off."

William arched a brow. "The sheets?"

"The sweatpants."

William obeyed-slowly.

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband, dragging the fabric down inch by torturous inch, letting Est watch the way his cock strained against his briefs.

Est's breath hitched. "Fuck."

William smirked. "That's the idea."

He palmed himself through the cotton, biting his lip at the friction.

Est's knuckles whitened around his phone.

"Turn over."

William's pulse jumped. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

William exhaled shakily but obeyed, rolling onto his stomach, the phone propped against the pillows. He could feel Est's gaze on him, hot and possessive.

"Arch your back."

William did, pressing his hips into the mattress.

"Now touch yourself."

William groaned but reached back, fingers slipping under the waistband of his briefs.

Est's voice dropped to a growl. "Tell me what you want."

"You," William gasped. "Fuck-your hands on me, your mouth-"

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

A sharp inhale. Then-

"When I get back," Est snarled, "I'm going to ruin you."

William came with a cry, Est's name on his lips.

Silence.

William lay boneless against the sheets, his chest heaving. On screen, Est's jaw was clenched, his own hand working furiously under the frame.

William licked his lips. "Your turn."

Est's eyes burned into him. "Watch."

William did-until Est shuddered, his breath stuttering, his voice raw as he gasped William's name.

11:37 PM.

Est's phone buzzed on the nightstand.

He knew who it was before he even looked.

William (Annoying Secretary): Miss me yet?

Est scoffed, typing back.

Me: You're insufferable.

A second later, his screen lit up with an incoming video call.

Est answered.

William lounged in their bed, bare-chested, the sheets pooled low around his waist. His glasses were perched on his nose, his hair slightly mussed, like he'd been running his hands through it.

And he was smirking.

"Long day, Mr. Supha?"

Est's throat went dry. "What do you want?"

William's fingers trailed lazily down his own chest. "Just checking in."

"Take off your tie," William murmured.

Est hesitated.

William arched a brow. "Now."

Something hot coiled in Est's stomach.

He obeyed, loosening the knot with unsteady fingers.

"Good," William purred. "Now the shirt."

Est's breath hitched as he undid the buttons, letting the fabric slide off his shoulders.

William's gaze darkened. "Touch yourself."

"I-what?"

"You heard me." William's voice dropped, rough with authority. "Hand on your cock. Now."

Est's fingers trembled as he obeyed, hissing at the first brush of contact.

William leaned closer to the screen, his own hand drifting lower, beneath the sheets. "Tell me how much you missed me."

"Fuck you," Est gritted out.

William laughed. "Not yet."

"Slower," William ordered, watching as Est stroked himself. "You don't get to come until I say so."

Est groaned, his hips jerking into his own touch. "William-"

"Ah-ah." William's fingers were moving under the sheets now, his breath coming faster. "You don't get to say my name like that yet."

Est's grip tightened. "You're a bastard."

"And you love it."

William's voice was a wrecked whisper when he finally gave in.

"Come for me."

Est shattered.

Silence.

Then-

William adjusted his glasses, smug.

"See? I can be a good secretary."

Est flipped him off.

(The hotel charged him for the ruined sheets.)

William was lounging in bed, phone propped against the pillow, wearing nothing but those sweatpants-the ones that made Est's self-control evaporate.

The sheets were rumpled, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows across his bare chest.

His phone buzzed.

My husband🤍: Call me. Now.

William smirked.

The second the video connected, Est's sharp inhale was audible.

"You're trying to ruin me," Est muttered, his voice already rough.

William dragged a lazy hand down his stomach, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. "Miss me that much?"

Est's jaw clenched. "You have no idea."

William hummed, teasing. "Then tell me what you want."

A beat of silence. Then-

"...Daddy."

William's fingers stilled.

Est had never called him that before.

The word sent a shock of heat straight through William's body, his breath catching in his throat. His grip on the phone tightened.

"Say that again," William demanded, voice dropping low.

Est's lips curled-smug, challenging. "Make me."

William's patience snapped.

"You're gonna regret that," William growled, leaning closer to the screen. "When I get my hands on you, you won't be able to think straight. You'll be begging for it before I even touch you."

Est's breath hitched.

William continued, relentless. "You like that, baby? Like the idea of me bending you over the nearest desk and fucking you until you forget your own name?"

Est's fingers twitched against his thigh, his gaze darkening. "Yes."

"Good." William's voice was pure sin. "Because I'm not stopping until you're shaking. Until you can't even walk straight. Until everyone in that fucking office knows exactly who you belong to."

Est's lips parted-no witty retort, no sharp comeback. Just want.

William smirked. "Now say it again."

Est returned to the office exhausted.

Dark circles under his eyes. A new tension in his shoulders. And, most damning of all-

William’s smirk.

Tanaka took one look at them and immediately started a new betting pool:

*"How Many Times Did They-"*

Est shut it down.

(It reappeared within the hour.)

Est didn’t even wait until they got home.

The second the elevator doors closed, he had William pressed against the wall, hands gripping his hips hard enough to bruise.

“Missed me?” William breathed.

Est kissed him like a man starved.

(The security cameras caught everything.)

Chapter Text

The apartment was quiet, save for the low hum of the movie neither of them was really watching.

William had insisted on some pretentious indie film Est would never have chosen himself, but he’d allowed it, just to see the way William’s eyes lit up when he described the cinematography.

Now, they were sprawled across the couch, William’s legs thrown carelessly over Est’s lap, chopsticks still dangling from his fingers from the half-finished takeout.

Est pretended not to notice the way William kept glancing at him instead of the screen.

“You’re not even watching,” Est muttered, nudging William’s thigh with his knuckles.

William grinned, unrepentant. “Yes, I am.”

“The romantic subplot is happening right now and you’re staring at me.”

“Mm.” William shifted, turning fully toward him. “I like your version better.”

Est rolled his eyes, but his chest did something traitorously warm.

William reached out, fingers brushing Est’s jaw, tilting his face toward the dim glow of the television.

“Look,” he murmured. “That’s your ’this is artistically mediocre’ frown.”

Est huffed. “I don’t have a-”

William’s thumb smoothed over his brow. “And this is your ’fine, I’ll admit this scene is good’ twitch.”

Est caught his wrist. “You’re ridiculous.”

William’s smile softened. “You love it.”

It started slow.

William leaning in, lips brushing Est’s with a quiet question. Est answering without words, hand sliding into William’s hair to pull him closer.

The movie faded into background noise.

William tasted like soy sauce and the cheap beer they’d been drinking, his mouth warm and familiar. Est traced the curve of his lower lip with his tongue, earning a quiet sigh.

They’d kissed a hundred times before fierce and hungry in the office, desperate and laughing in the shower, but this was different.

Slower.

Sweeter.

When they finally pulled apart, the credits were rolling.

William’s glasses were crooked, his lips pink from Est’s stubble. Est’s fingers were still tangled in his shirt.

“So,” William breathed, “was the movie good?”

Est kissed him again instead of answering - a slow, lingering press of lips that melted into something deeper when William sighed against his mouth. The credits continued rolling, casting shifting blue shadows across their tangled limbs as William twisted properly into Est's lap, knees bracketing his thighs.

"Est," William murmured when they broke for air, foreheads touching. His glasses were fogged, his cheeks flushed pink in the dim light.

Est slid them off with careful fingers, folding the arms shut with a soft click before setting them aside. "Better?"

William huffed a laugh. "Now I can't see you."

"You don't need to." Est traced the shell of his ear, the line of his jaw. "Feel me instead."

Clothes slipped away between kisses:

William's shirt, unbuttoned by Est's patient fingers.
Est's belt, tugged loose with William's teasing smirk.
The soft shhk of sweatpants sliding down toned thighs.

They moved to the bedroom without breaking apart, walking a clumsy path around the coffee table, past the forgotten takeout containers. William laughed when Est nearly tripped over their abandoned shoes, the sound dissolving into a gasp as Est pinned him to the hallway wall, mouth hot on his throat.

"Bed," William managed, fingers tight in Est's hair. "Now."

The sheets were cool against William's back, a contrast to the heat of Est's hands mapping his skin. There was no rush tonight - just the drag of calloused fingertips along ribs, the press of lips to collarbones, the quiet oh William breathed when Est took him apart by millimeters.

Est kissed the inside of his knee. "Tell me what you want."

William arched up, fingers finding Est's. "You. Always you."

It was different this time - no office tension to snap, no weeks of pent-up frustration to exorcise. Just Est moving inside him with slow, deep rolls of his hips, William's legs wrapped tight around his waist.

William clutched at his shoulders, gasping praise into the curve of Est's neck:

"God- yes-" (a hitch as Est angled deeper)

"Love your hands-" (fingers lacing together above his head)

"Est, please-" (broken and beautiful)

When William came, it was with Est's name on his lips and his glasses still abandoned on the couch.

Later, sticky and sated, William traced idle patterns on Est's chest.

"Movie was terrible," Est muttered into his hair.

William grinned against his skin. "Liar. You loved it."

Est caught his wandering hand, pressed a kiss to his palm. Didn't deny it.

Chapter Text

The apartment was quiet, the golden glow of the evening sun filtering through the blinds. William lounged on the couch, legs spread, a book in one hand and his other absently carding through Est's hair where he sat between his knees.

Est had been good tonight, no snide remarks, no half-hearted protests. Just warm hands sliding up William's thighs, lips pressing soft kisses to the fabric of his sweatpants, already straining over his hardening cock.

William smirked, setting his book aside.

"Eager?" he murmured, fingers tightening in Est's hair just enough to make him shiver.

Est glanced up, eyes dark. "Shut up."

William chuckled, adjusting his glasses, the thin black frames catching the light.

He knew what they did to Est. Knew how his breath hitched when William pushed them up his nose, how his gaze lingered when they slipped low.

And tonight, he was going to use that.

Est nuzzled against William's clothed cock, inhaling the musk of him, tongue darting out to trace the outline of him through the fabric.

William groaned, hips twitching up. "Fuck, you're already so good for me."

Est hummed, mouthing at the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down just enough to free William's cock-hard, flushed, already leaking at the tip.

William's breath stuttered as Est licked a slow stripe from base to head, swirling his tongue around the crown before sinking down, taking him deep in one smooth motion.

"Christ-" William's head fell back, fingers tightening in Est's hair. "Just like that, baby."

Est hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard, his own cock straining in his pants at the taste of him, the weight on his tongue, the way William's thighs trembled under his hands.

Then-

A tap on his forehead.

Est pulled off with a wet pop, glaring up. "What?"

William smirked, sliding his glasses off.
"Put these on."

Est blinked. "What?"

"You heard me." William's voice was low, commanding. "I want to see you through my own lenses."

Est hesitated-just for a second-before reaching up, sliding the glasses onto his face. The world sharpened instantly, William's smirk even more devastating up close.

"Fuck," William breathed, dragging his thumb over Est's bottom lip. "Look at you."

Est flushed, the praise curling hot in his gut.

William tilted his chin up. "Now suck me like you mean it."

Est didn't need to be told twice.

He dove back in, taking William deep, moaning around him as the glasses slipped slightly down his nose. William's grip in his hair tightened, guiding his pace, fucking shallowly into his mouth.

"That's it," William groaned, watching himself disappear between Est's lips.

"God, you look so fucking pretty like this, my glasses on, my cock in your mouth-"

Est whined, the words sending a jolt straight to his own neglected cock.

William chuckled darkly. "You like that?
Knowing I'm watching you choke on me?"

Est's answer was to swallow around him, dragging a ragged moan from William's throat.

"Fuck-yes, just like that-" William's hips jerked up, driving himself deeper. "You take me so well, baby. So perfect-"

Est's eyes watered, spit slicking his chin, but he didn't pull away. Couldn't. Not when William was praising him like this, not when every filthy word sent heat coiling tighter in his stomach.

William's thrusts grew erratic, his voice rough. "Gonna come down your throat-you want that? Want me to fuck your mouth until I lose it?"

Est moaned, nodding desperately, his own cock throbbing.

William cursed, fingers twisting in his hair. "Then take it-"

With a final thrust, he came, hot and bitter on Est's tongue. Est swallowed every drop, lips sealed tight around him until William was shuddering, oversensitive, tugging him off with a gasp.

Est licked his lips, glasses still askew, chest heaving.

William stared down at him, wrecked. "Fuck."

Est smirked proudly.