#herodanny

“Forewarned is forearmed,” Phantom replied, which wasn’t really an answer in Fenton’s opinion.

“Sure you’re not just jealous?”

Phantom scoffed. “What use have I for a car?”

“Not that.” Fenton waved a dismissive hand before tucking it back into place behind his head. “I mean that you can’t buy me stuff.”

Phantom shoved the filing cabinet door shut. Apparently whatever evidence he was looking for wasn’t in there. “I’m not competing for your affections with my nemesis.”

“Oh, yeah, no, definitely not. I just mean, like, you get this kicked puppy look whenever you want to get me something but can’t. Like last night when I bought that milkshake with the last of my allowance money. You looked like you were going to sell your soul right there and then.”

Fenton snickered, remembering the cashier’s face when she realized the guy beside Fenton usually flew around the city in a jumpsuit instead of a hoodie. “I think that girl would have taken you up on the offer. How much do you think your soul’d go for? Or maybe just a kiss. You’ve got, like, the best kisses. It’s a good thing I get those for free because I’d be so broke by now. Maybe you should set up a kissing booth. That’d get you some cash.”

“I’m not kissing strangers.” Phantom had his back to Fenton as he ruffled through the bookcase, but Fenton grinned when he saw the green-ish tint of his ears. “I’m in a relationship.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, babe, I love you too.”

“Fenton, please. You said you would help.”

“I am helping, look.” He sat forward and pulled a small pile of papers onto his lap before leaning back in the heavenly chair again. He started rifling through them, but most of his attention remained on Phantom. Once again dressed in his infamous jumpsuit and (bedsheet) cape, he looked like a wild creature trapped in a political nightmare of an office. “What are you looking for again?”

Phantom paused a moment to look up as if begging for patience. “I told you. We are looking for evidence of–”

Fenton lifted the paper he had just skimmed into the air. “You mean this?”

Phantom’s head jerked around. “What is–”

“A letter to Mom. Sounds like V-man is trying to impress her by spoiling me and Jazz.”

Phantom flew to his side, his eyes wide. “Where did you find it?”

“In plain sight, on the desk.” Phantom reached for the paper, but Fenton lifted it above his head. “Ah-ah, where’s my reward?”

Phantom frowned, confused. “Reward?”

Fenton grinned and held out his other hand, dropping his feet to the floor. After a second, Phantom rolled his eyes. He took Fenton’s hand, and Fenton pulled the ghost onto his lap. As Phantom’s weight settled fully onto Fenton’s thighs, the ghost’s legs squeezed tight against Fenton’s own by the confines of the desk chair’s arms, a brilliant spark of an idea went off in Fenton’s head.

Phantom must have read his mind, perhaps even had the same thought, because his face flushed a brilliant green. He snatched Vlad’s letter from Fenton’s hand and snapped, “No! Absolutely not, human.”

“Oh, come on,” Fenton whined. “It’ll be fun!”

“This is a governmental office, Fenton!”

“Yeah! I know, right?” Fenton fought to muffle his laugh, but they burst past his control in giggling bursts. “It’ll be so hot!”

“No!”

“Oh, come on, Phantom, please?” Fenton wrapped his arms around Phantom’s waist and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “It’ll be great. I’ll even let you top.”

“‘Let’?” Phantom scoffed. “You are hardly letting me top when half the time you are begging me to…to…”

“Fuck me senseless?” Fenton suggested, his eyes sparkling. “Pound me into the mattress? Or into the desk, in this case?”

Phantom’s flush deepened and he stuttered an objection over Fenton’s language, but Fenton could see his eyes had darkened, his pupils wider than they should have been.

Grinning, Fenton leaned into Phantom’s chest and stretched his back until he could reach Phantom’s ear. He purposefully allowed his lips to brush the sensitive skin as he whispered, “Think about it, dude. You could take me against your nemesis’ desk, and no one would ever know except you and me. You can’t tell me that doesn’t sound like fun.”

Fenton leaned back in time to catch Phantom wetting his lips. Their eyes met, and Fenton knew he had won. Phantom might hold out a while longer, more out of a sense of propriety than a true objection, but he would be the one pushing Fenton soon. The seed had been planted just as thoroughly in Phantom’s head as it had been in Fenton’s, and it was only a matter of time before Fenton would find himself bent over the desk, panting into the wood grain while his hero drove him into delirious incoherence.