“Christopher.” He called, voice barely rising above speaking volume. It only took a few seconds for the door to shick open, as though the personal assistant had been waiting just outside for such a summons. Ricardo didn’t look up, still absorbed in his quest. “Have you happened to have seen my-”

The CEO looked up and blinked.

Perched in the assistant’s ears were Ricardo’s most expensive earrings. The little gold and ruby balls stood out against Christopher’s ears and matched the gold tie pin that perched slightly above the center of his chest that had been a gift from Ricardo last May. 

“Sir?” Christopher tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear, and Ricardo swallowed. It was getting long again, meaning that Christopher had probably been too busy to get it cut. Meaning that Ricardo had probably been running him too hard again, and during a relatively quiet week as well. He made a mental note to fix that. 

“Never mind.” The CEO replied, standing and dusting off his knees. Christopher would be left to puzzle over the eccentricities of his employer, but that was a common state for the assistant to be left in. “Lets get lunch. You can tell me everything I need to do today and gripe at me about how little I’ve accomplished.” 

@strexcorpsguardian | @freedomconvicted

((We’re Hamilton trash.))

Christopher comes awake with a scream, echoing against the silence of Ricardo’s bedroom. The room is too dark, and for a second he is convinced that he has died and this hell. When Ricardo turns on the bedside light, a beacon of sanity, an odd sense of relief bubbles in his chest. He is not dead.

“Chris?” Ricardo is sitting on the edge of the bed, and the personal assistant hadn’t even realized that he had tumbled off. “What’s wrong?”

Ricardo is wearing a military uniform, badges pinned neatly to his chest. He’s standing over the personal assistant asking the same question, but he’s using a different name.

“You killed me.” The words are choked, tears slipping down the smaller man’s face. It is obvious that he is alive, and the assistant can’t figure out why the dream feels so real. Understanding dawns on Ricardo’s face, and he slips off the bed to kneel next to the smaller man.

It is hot outside and Chris is sitting on a concrete floor in prison fatigues. Two men walk in and he fears them without knowing why. They walk past, but one does a double take and comes over to kneel next to Christopher.

Ricardo slips two fingers under Christopher’s chin, tilting his face up gently.

The man forces him to look up, and the man in the military uniform has Ricardo’s face.

“I would never hurt you, Christopher.” The words are soft, the CEO placing a worrying amount of emphasis on his name. “You’re mine, and I would never hurt you.”

“This one is mine.” The man in the military uniform says, standing and dusting off his knees. His comrade nods, and they continue walking.

christopherrose-pa

The pa turns his face to nuzzle at Ricardo's hand, kissing his palm before looking back up at him. "Like a sun I orbit around?" Christopher asked, licking his bottom lip as his hand worked. It barely rubbed, just enough to crank up the ceo's arousal some, but not enough to make him come.

"Other assorted facts? You're the sun for all the workers here. What they believe to be a representative of that nonsense God they worship. They live and die at your whim, like a medieval King. They would kill each other, if it meant the opportunity to be where I am now."

Ricardo tips his head forward, biting down on Christopher's neck. He moans against his skin with the attention given to his arousal. The way he began bucking further into Christopher's hand made him needy again. His hands wrap around Christopher to hold him close, now rubbing their bodies together.

He debated on whether Christopher should be the one to tend to him while he sat back, or if he should continue taking what he wants. Without much thought, he rests one hand over the desk, mindlessly thrusting against Christopher's pelvis for more friction. The table lifts a little, shaking the material scattered over about.