Chapter 4: The Conference Table

"Not here," Tomoya said.

"Where, then?"

Ren didn't wait for an answer.

He took Tomoya's wrist and pulled him along the dark corridor to meeting room 6B.

He shut the glass door behind them with his shoulder.

The blinds on the corridor side were already down.

The lights were off.

The city came in through the far windows in orange and white, enough to show Ren's face and nothing else.

"The cleaners are on the third floor until eight," Ren said. "Gojo goes home at six-thirty. The door locks from inside."

"You've thought about this."

"I've thought about it since Saturday."

"You said okay."

"I'm bad at saying no, apparently. Nobody told you that?"

Tomoya should have walked out.

He put his palms flat on Ren's chest instead and backed him against the long glass table.

The table was cold and polished and big enough to seat twelve.

It rang softly under Ren's weight.

"No noise," Tomoya said. "The walls are glass. I'll make you regret it."

"You'll make me regret it either way."

"Shut up."

Tomoya kissed him.

Friday had been rage.

This was worse, because this time he knew exactly what he was doing.

He tasted coffee and the faint mint Ren chewed in meetings.

Ren's hand slid into his hair, and the other pulled his shirt out of his trousers.

Ren's warm palm slid up Tomoya's bare back.

Tomoya shivered all the way to the bone.

"Take it out," Ren breathed. "Take me out, Arisaka. Please."

It was the first time he had ever said please.

Tomoya unbuckled Ren's belt with fingers that wouldn't behave.

He got Ren's trousers open and his hand inside his underwear.

Ren was already hard, heavy and hot in Tomoya's fist.

He jerked against him.

"Quiet," Tomoya whispered.

"Then do it properly."

Tomoya did it properly.

He stroked Ren slowly, his thumb dragging over the head and spreading the wet, and watched Ren's mouth fall open in the dark.

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