montyc

“What’s his problem?” she asks with a head tilt towards Steve sulking on the couch, tone hushed and husky as she sits down across from James at his desk. He shrugs his shoulders, running his hand through his hair. He switches to Russian when he replies.

“I’ve got no fucking idea. He chose violence this morning. Can’t do anything to calm him down; he wants nothing to do with me.”

Natasha hums thoughtfully, but the tone of support shifts when he catches her smirk.

“What?” he snaps, a bark of a noise.

She rolls her eyes. “You’re so dense sometimes. Why are you always wanting a fight, James? You have nothing more to prove with this one.”

She turns her head towards Steve then, her chin-length hair bouncing with the quick movement. The snap of her fingers is sharp, almost as much as her voice is.

“Steven—come here.”

Sharp, direct, no-nonsense— yet gentle. Knowing.

Comforting.

James nearly stops breathing when Steve rises without a fight, damn near floating across the office. When he stops to stand next to Natasha’s chair and looks down at her expectantly, she points a perfectly manicured finger down towards the floor in front of her.

“Come down here.”

James does in fact stop breathing then, when Steve all but crumples to the ground without hesitation.

What…?

His heart seizes in his chest with the obviousness of Steve’s exhaustion, the way it lies heavy across his shoulders and in the furrow of his brow. His own hoodie on Steve’s form swallows him whole, his normal broadness and sinew lost underneath his Daddy’s hoodie.

His heart seizes, yes, but his cock brings to fill out as well.

He is but a Daddy, a Dom, a man.

He considers stepping in though, considers telling Natasha she’s out of line intervening in such a personal way, but he’s desperate at this point.

And there’s no denying there’s something else here James can’t quite interpret that has him leaning forward in his seat, something new and already addicting.

When Natasha reaches for Steve’s chin and curls her slim fingers around it, James goes from twitching to traitorously hard in his pants.

“What is wrong?”

James can see the heaviness of Steve’s eyelids from here, can see the way he falls into her touch as if desperate for it.

“Nothing,” he tries, and James can’t help but scoff from where he sits. Natasha’s glare is as cold as ice.

She squeezes at his chin, shaking it once. “Don’t lie to me. Anyone with eyes can see that you don’t feel well. Anyone with ears within a two mile radius knows you’ve been fighting with James all day. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

Steve shuffles forward on his knees with a soft noise, shocking both Natasha and James when his shuffling leads him kneeled between Natasha’s spread thighs.

Oh.

Natasha’s eyes are on James’s immediately, seeking silent permission to continue.

James’s heart pounds against his chest.

He’s quick to tip his chin.

Natasha’s fingers are in Steve’s hair the next second, long pointed nails scratching at his honey-colored hair, his tender scalp.

Steve moans so hard it ties James’s next breath up tight in his chest, the sound of it loud and stuttering.

His hands come down to rest on Natasha’s hips, fingers curling around where they sit in the plush chair.

“I don’t know,” Steve whispers, words broken and truthful. “Sometimes I just wake up and I’m…I’m not myself. I’m sad. I’m mean and…and not in a cute way that gets me spanked.”

James smirks even if his heart continues to ache. Natasha doesn’t miss a beat.

“And that’s fine; we all have those days. This was maybe a day you should have stayed home away from other people.”

James knows what Steve is going to say even before he whines it.

“But…but I don’t want to be away from Daddy…”

He hasn’t disclosed every detail of his relationship with Steve to Natasha, but he is aware that she knows enough that Steve’s words won’t startle her in any way. What does startle her though, both her and Daddy, is when Steve whines once more and leans forward to bury his face into Natasha’s stomach.

James has to sit back in his chair to accommodate for his raging and sudden hard-on.

This is quite a development.

Natasha’s eyes are on his again, this time much less confident than before, and James hopes his gaze mirrors some of that lack of confidence in order to provide her comfort. He’s never experienced anything like this with Steve; this is new territory for everyone involved.

His nods his head in a jerky movement, giving her silent permission to continue.

The fingers in Steve’s hair run down the back of his head then, scratching across his shoulders and at the base of his neck. From where James sits he can see Steve’s fingers pull at the meat of his best friend’s hips, Steve burying himself further into her embrace.

James feels like a live wire, exposed and hot. He’s in a situation he never imagined he’d be in, one he’s excited for, but also cautious. It’s somehow not sexual, but also the most erotic thing he’s seen…ever? Steve is slight next to James, is more petite and submissive looking, but next to Natasha he looks large, dominant, and boyish almost.

The thought of Steve looking burly yet being submissive for a woman damn near half his size, one older than him, makes James salivate.

“I’m sure your Daddy doesn’t want to be away from you either, but you coming to his place of work and causing a plethora of avoidable issues doesn’t seem like the smartest choice for the both of you.”

Steve whimpers, finally turning his face in James’s direction.

There’s his boy.

And shit, is he gone.

Eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed, lips parted; James would bet half his life savings on Steve also being hard right now. And with Natasha’s thighs spread around his shoulders, her fingers in his hair, his big hands on her hips, it would be hard to imagine she isn’t feeling a similar way as them.

Her eyes are guarded when they lock with James’s, which only confirm his suspicions.

“Daddy…” Steve mewls softly, a noise that makes both his balls and chest ache.

“Steven,” he responds, voice gruffer than anticipated. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“Better than before? Better than ten minutes ago?”

He nods his head into Natasha’s stomach. “Much.”

He needs confirmation for the three of them.

“You like Natasha touching you like this? You like her words?”

A garbled noise and another whimper. “Uh-huh…”

Nails scratch down Steve’s neck, the noise of her fresh manicure on his skin more than pleasant to James’s ears.

“What do you like about her?”

A purely selfish inquiry at this point.

Steve doesn’t hesitate.

“She’s kind. But she’s firm. I like her claws and I like how soft she is and…she smells so good.”

Steve is indeed out of it, and this is confirmed for James when Steve turns his head again and rubs his face into Natasha’s sweater, this time much closer towards her breasts.

The air between the three of them thickens intensely, the charge of it continuing to glow erotic.

James barely catches the hitch in Natasha’s breath, but he catches it.

Interesting.

“Steve…” James warns, but Natasha is quick to placate them both.

“Rest, Steven. Let your Daddy finish at least some work before you go home. You rest now.”

Steve shuffles in impossibly closer, pressing his cheek to her breast then, effectively smothering her by laying atop her. James goes to say something, to reprimand, but Natasha is quick to shake her head.

Her nails return to Steve’s hair, this time both sets, and she settles into his overwhelming embrace with ease.

Well, fuck.

There’s no way in hell James is getting any work done with such a display just across his desk from him. But he supposes he should get just enough done to grant them the right to go home.