Work Text:
The next day at work was nothing short of humiliating for Rody. His unforgiving boss had put him to work without allowing him to cover up a single blemish upon his neck.
The stares from judgemental customers burnt holes straight through him, and his sweat made everything 10x slippier.
Trips to the kitchen were by far the worst. He was always greeted with snickering from a few chefs, and disapproving glances from others.
“Someone got lucky last night! Or unlucky. Seriously, are those love bites or did you wrestle with a bear last night?” Cried one of the chefs, landing a heavy hand on Rody’s shoulder. “What’s the deal with you showing off your battle scars?”
“O-oh, uh- no reason!” He panicked a little. He was in no way ready for any type of confrontation.
“Oh really? So you aren’t even gonna tell us who the lucky girl is?”
Just that one single question made Rody lose him grip on the wine he had forgotten he was even holding. He stared down at the liquid soaking its way in between the tiles and spreading beneath his feet for a minute before coming back to his senses. “Oops- sorry, i’ll clean that up!” He silently vowed that he would get Vincent back for this later.
“Rody? Come into my office, now.” Ordered a deep voice from behind him. Huh… maybe he’d get his revenge sooner than he thought.
He left the humiliating stares and whispers of “ooo he’s in trouble…” behind him the second the door was shut and cigarette smoke overpowered his senses.
“It’s come to my attention that your service hasn’t been up to standard today.” His boss took a long drag from his cigarette.
“Well yeah, because of these stupid hickeys!” He bit back. “I can’t concentrate with all of these people staring at me.”
“This is really getting to you, huh?” Vince let out an airy chuckle. “It’s fun to see how you break.” His voice lowered as he slid his fingers under Rody’s jaw.
The redhead grumbled in frustration, leaning away from the hand. “How would you like it if you were in my position?” His tone had changed, signalling that an idea was forming.
“I think we both know who’s in control of this situation.”
“Oh really? We’ll see about that.” He didn’t waste a second in connecting their lips in a brash kiss that was mostly teeth clacking. He didn’t stop at those dark eyes widening or those long fingers tangling themselves in his hair and pulling, hard. Instead he went further. He fought and bit his way past those cold lips and stuck his tongue as far as it would go into that wet heat.
The other gagged, stumbling back onto his desk, important papers suddenly losing their worth and flying to the floor in the scuffle. His hands desperately grabbed for purchase on Rody’s broad shoulders in an attempt to ground himself and focus on something other than the invasion currently exploring his mouth. His cigarette was extinguished on the redheads back, who let out a small whine but otherwise dismissed the pain, too caught up in his desire to care.
His inability to care about anything but Vincent right now was the sole reason as to why he kept pushing the boundaries. Who cares that he’s still on his shift right now, or that the bistro is still full of patrons, or that he’s bending his boss over backwards on his own desk? Not Rody, that’s for sure. Definitely not after he noticed the way Vincent practically melted under his touch, or the little moans that he released when touched in certain places.
When he become aware of their growing arousals grinding against each other, desperate for friction, he realised that he was at the point of no return. This was going all the way. He refused to leave without fully ravishing the meal spread out so obediently in front of him, just for him. The thought distracted him, and his kiss that was more tongue and teeth than lips became increasingly sloppier as his energy was directed to his over-working brain.
He broke off his slobbering for second to ask: “Wait- just checking, we can take this further, right?” Because consent is always sexy.
“I let you take it this far, didn’t I? Do as you wish.” Vince tried to keep up his nonchalant facade, but his heavy panting and dilated pupils betrayed him.
Once given the green light, Rody carefully unbuttoned the chef’s uniform, swallowing his impatience in the need to preserve those expensive clothes. He was about halfway through before Vince took over with a scowl, displeased at the unexpected slowness. “I don’t have all day, you know.” He removed his shirt in a practiced manner which made things much faster.
Rody gasped at the sight of Vincent’s bare skin as if seeing it for the first time. The sight literally took his breath away. It was beautifully sculpted, especially how comfortably the curve of his waist held his tanned hands like the missing piece of a puzzle. It was perfect, save for one thing it was missing, like a canvas with no paint.
He bared his teeth again, this time sinking them into the supple skin of Vincent’s neck and sucking forth colour to the wound. He made sure to choose a spot that the chef uniform wouldn’t cover.
“No, Rody- not… there~,” came a protest, which was soon cut off by an uncharacteristically high whine. Vince blushed at the mess that Rody’s mouth had reduced him to. He promptly covered his mouth with his palm to prevent further humiliation, taking into consideration their proximity to a kitchen full of chefs and a diner full of people.
“Oh right, sorry… wouldn’t want people seeing you like this, would we?” He paused, biting deep into his neck. “What would the customers think if the owner came out with all these bites?”
Rody received a deep groan, muffled by a slender hand.
While Vincent was still dealing with an onslaught of hickeys and an incredibly arousing situation to dwell on in his lust-drunken haze, the redhead slowly unbuckled and unzipped both of their pants, eager to get to the main course of his meal.
It was then that they were interrupted by a hasty rapping of knuckles on the wooden door to the office. The sound was like the gravity bringing Rody’s head back down to earth.
“You done in there yet? We kinda need a waiter out here.”
Shit. Right… his job. Sigh.
“Yeah, whatever- be out in a minute!” Rody tried his best to ignore his rapid heart and that churning feeling of anxiety currently grinding up his insides. He didn’t want to get in trouble, but… how could he go back to work when he had unfinished business to attend to?
He looked at his ‘unfinished business’ for an answer, and an answer he got. “Just make it quick.”
He stripped the two of their work pants, revealing their throbbing erections. In his haste, it occurred to him that he had nothing in the means of lube.
“Um…”
Vincent sighed in acknowledgment, reaching over into one of his drawers to pull out of fairly new bottle and handing it to his partner. The partner in question quirked a brow at this, but otherwise chose to ignore how that got in there.
Rody squeezed an adequate amount onto his fingers and was about to insert them before Vincent stopped him.
“There’s no need. I, um, already… prepared.” A dusty pink painted his cheeks.
This revelation evoked a twitch in the redhead’s dick. He wondered when he did such a thing, if he thought about Rody when he stretched himself out. He wished he could have been there to see it. But he couldn’t let that daydream distract him from the real-life fantasy before him. The view was enchanting. He revelled in the way Vince’s watchful eyes quivered in anticipation, and how the dim light caught on his glistening red lips that now parted slightly, as if to say something, but it never came.
The best part was the knowledge that he was the one responsible for this. Him, Rody Lamoree, was the one slowly unwinding the famous chef Vincent Charbonneau in his own office.
“What was it that you said… something about you being in control?” He teased.
“Just stop gawking and fuck me.”
“Woah, yes sir!” Rody couldn’t deny the stirring feeling that came with being ordered around. He obeyed by spreading lube in a slippery mess on his dick and slipping it into the younger man’s inviting hole. He pushed in slowly, letting the other adjust and in turn ignoring the burning desire to slam fully inside.
It wasn’t long before Vince started begging him to move, to thrust deep inside him. Once again he dutifully listened, succumbing to his primal instincts and pushing as deep and as fast as he could go. The rough pace reduced Vincent to nothing more than a toy used for pleasure. He nearly bit straight through his own hand in his attempt to silence those dehumanising moans being drawn from deep within him. He seemed to be the only one still conscious of their public setting.
However, neither of them were aware of the knocking on the door by a concerned staff member.
They were less blissfully unaware of the light spilling in from the door that had swung open behind them.
The two could only pause and look to the intruders in horror. The chefs in question were both shocked and concerned. A resounding thud came from the impact of one in particular immediately hitting the floor and staying down.
“Fuck.” The idiots both said in unison.