#mikeeru

“To conclude this meeting and another productive week, I’d like to have everyone’s attention for a few of our most pressing matters.”

Oh, he’s going to do it now, Mike realizes.

For the hundredth time in the last hour and a half, he has to check that both his microphone and camera are offline. He’s not usually so easily spooked about these things, but it’s one thing to want your privacy during a meeting with twenty people and the company’s CEO himself making a presentation, and it’s another to have to hide the fact that you’re teleworking from said CEO’s penthouse apartment every Friday because you’ve been secretly —Mike’s decided that drunkenly confessing to Nanaba a few weeks back doesn’t count— fucking each other for months now against all company guidelines.

He almost feels sorry for not warning his friend Hange, the only one besides Erwin and a few less highly ranked colleagues who’s currently got their camera on —and who is probably unaware of that fact, seeing how their crumpled shirt is hanging open as far as he can see— for what’s about to happen, but he couldn’t do that without giving himself away.

“I’m going to need Business Development, Sales and Marketing to work together closely on the Titan project next quarter. Zoë, Ackerman and Zacharias, as respective heads of these divisions, I’ll require that you regularly meet and update me directly on this matter. It’s a great challenge, but I have no doubt your BDSM task force, as I’ve labeled it, will tackle it under the deadline I stipulated earlier.”

It’s probably unnoticeable to everyone else with his camera so high on his laptop’s screen, but Mike knows he didn’t imagine the way Erwin’s eyes just settled on him, all the way over where he’s lounging on the comfy couch in his boss’ home office, when he said the acronym Mike dared him to place. Knowing this was coming does little to stop Mike’s shock at hearing the awfully casual way he enunciated those letters, and it’s physically painful to have to contain his hilarity —Erwin’s microphone is definitely still on and it’s not that big a room— when he glances back down and sees Erwin actually put it into bold, huge characters onto an otherwise blank slide.

His eyes catch movement on his screen then, and he realizes that some screens that were previously showing faces have suddenly gone dark.

His friend Hange's, however, hasn’t. In fact, they’re currently losing their mind over what just happened, and they’re definitely unaware of their camera being on if the image of them picking up their laptop and running into another room before settling it down in front of Levi as they hurriedly gesture at —Mike’s guessing since their microphone is still thankfully muted— Erwin’s scandalous slide is anything to go by.

It’s not unusual for Hange and Levi, two of the most important people in this company and annoyingly close friends —who, in Mike’s opinion, are two close idiots who really are in love with each other and should get together already— to be spending teleworking days together.

But something is… off in this picture.

Then Mike realizes, now that he’s seen them standing, that Hange’s shirt’s probably been hanging open because it’s obviously several sizes too small. And, before Levi’s eyes comically widen and he extends his arm towards their camera to turn their tiny window black as well, it finally clicks in Mike’s brain.

That wasn’t just Levi.

That was Levi and his naked torso, sculpted by the endless hours he spends in the same gym Mike trains at, and covered in hickeys.

Mike steals a glance at Erwin, but his boss is now calmly calling the end of the meeting, his usual poker face on although there’s no way in hell he didn’t notice what just transpired.

Before he can think of addressing it out loud as Erwin turns his computer off and stands from his chair, Mike’s phone chimes with Nanaba’s special ringtone. He sighs and picks up, knowing making his best friend wait after these very interesting last few minutes isn’t the best idea.

“Mike, what the fuck?” She starts, and Mike rolls his eyes as he rethinks of the countless times she’s threatened him with days long HR seminars about his swearing. “You and Eyebrows did this on purpose, didn’t you? Hange’s freaking out so bad right now!”

She’s being so loud the sound of her voice carries way further than Mike’s phone speaker, and Erwin mouthes the nickname back at him with obvious amusement, now close enough to sit with him on the couch.

“Well, first of all, I didn’t know their camera would be on,” he says, trying not to sound as defensive as the guilt he feels about his other friend’s distress wants him to. “And besides, it serves them right for not telling me they're finally hooking up with Levi! Did you know and forget to tell me by any chance?"

Mike shares a glance with Erwin at that, who shakes his head condescendingly at his outrage —and if Mike wasn’t almost sure his boss had figured his two friends out before they all just got accidental proof of their relationship, now he is— and extends one arm over the back of the couch to scoot even closer to Mike’s lap, before casually starting to leave feather light kisses along his neck.

“You do not have a fucking leg to stand on here, Mister Secret CEO Boyfriend,” Nanaba scolds over the phone, making Mike freeze at the unexpected title, even as the pressure of Erwin’s lips only increases against his sensitive skin. “Which, by the way, I know this was his idea and not yours, you’re not twisted enough to come up with something like this. And I know I said I wanted to make friends with the big boss now that you two are doing the horizontal tango, but I’m not so sure it’s a good idea after—

“That’s alright, Miss Fischer,” Erwin interrupts, taking advantage of the speechless state his hickeys have left Mike into, sounding way too unbothered for their current predicament. “I’m not here to make friends anyway.”

There’s a sudden squeal followed by the muffled sound of Nanaba possibly trying to catch her phone before it falls from her grip.

“Erw— Mister Smith? Oh my God. Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Sir, Mike never said… I mean, had no idea you could overhear—”

“It’s alright,” Erwin says again, pausing to nibble at the skin over Mike’s collarbone, who’s trying to glare at him even though he knows it’s a lost cause. “I’ll see you Monday, Miss Fischer. Have a restful weekend.”

“Yes, Sir. Sorry again. I’ll see you on Monday, Sir.”

Erwin takes the phone away before she’s even done and throws it behind him on the cushions, not bothering to check that the call effectively cut —although Mike’s sure it did, because Nanaba sounded absolutely terrified.

“You just terrorized your HR Director,” he tries, still panting from Erwin’s most recent attention to his neck.

“I know,” Erwin singsongs like he just got praised instead of scolded, nipping along Mike’s jaw playfully now.

“Did you do it because of the nickname, or because I told you she had a crush on me back when we started at the company?”

Erwin chuckles, his breath fanning over Mike’s overheated skin in the process, and draws back far enough to look him in the eyes.

“Come on, I don’t hold such childish grudges,” he says smoothly, predatory smile firmly in place.

Mike bites back his own smile, and tries to keep his face neutral.

“You know I’m aware that you’re lying, right?”

Erwin only grins wider and lets his hand travel along his torso, down his abdomen, and finally cups him briefly over his pants, tearing a hiss out of him that effectively ruins his attempt to appear unimpressed.

“And you know I’m aware of how much that turns you on, right?” he asks in his ear.

"Fuck. Kiss me,” Mike orders.

He doesn’t often use this tone of voice, but you'd need to be blind not to notice the surprising effect it has on such an authoritative figure as Erwin Smith.

But his boss still isn’t one to give up control that easily, as assure the previous times they’ve been together in bed —or this couch, his kitchen, his bathroom... even under his on site desk one memorable time— combined with the way their lips fight for dominance the second they connect and the rough hands that immediately begin tearing at his clothes —well, at Erwin’s shirt that he borrowed today, actually, so Mike really couldn’t care less about the buttons sent flying around the room right now.

Mike lets out a gasp as Erwin pushes him firmly onto his back and trails his hands over the skin he’s just uncovered. His fingers find Mike’s nipples and pinch them, reaching that perfect line between pain and pleasure right away as Mike curses as much as he blesses how well Erwin’s come to know his body in only a few months of casual —is it still casual? Erwin didn’t exactly react to Nanaba calling him Mike’s boyfriend earlier— sex encounters.

The edges of his mind are already getting fuzzy, but Mike doesn’t let himself completely fall under Erwin’s spell yet.

One of his hands cups the back of Erwin’s head and adjusts the angle with enough force to bury his face in his neck, tickling his skin with the facial hair he knows Erwin finds irresistible and unexpectedly biting down, hard. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise; but for one, it’s low enough that Erwin will be able to hide whatever faded mark is left after the weekend under a high collar shirt; and this move is one of Erwin’s weaknesses that’s never failed before.

It doesn’t disappoint now, either, and Erwin moans loudly and goes slack enough at the sudden teeth impact to let Mike switch their position and land on top of him instead.

“You really shouldn’t lie to me, Mister Smith,” he growls as he settles on top of him, rotating his hips so his ass rubs against the hardening erection in Erwin’s pants even as he brings one hand to wrap his around his throat. 

He spreads his fingers around his airway, teasing gently before he starts squeezing.

“Wait,” Erwin chokes out suddenly.

Mike lets go of his neck at once, dropping the act and cupping his cheek instead.

“Red?” he asks, searching Erwin’s eyes for signs of pain.

He tried to erase the surprise from his voice but knows he only partially succeeded —choking is certainly not where they’ve ever drawn the line before. Then again, if that’s what Erwin needs right now, of course he’ll stop.

“No, of course not,” Erwin says, dismissing his concerns with a scoff. “But don’t you want your assignment first?”

“Oh. Well, sure, but why… I mean, what is it, do you think I’m going to fuck your brains out so hard you won’t remember when I’m done with you?” he teases, grinding against him again.

“Actually, yes,” Erwin breathes through a tender smile.

There’s no trace of humor in his tone or on his face now, and Mike is split between a surge of white hot arousal at knowing his lover genuinely thinks that highly of him, and near-overwhelming affection for the sometimes disarmingly honest, always unpredictable, and forever complicated man he’s currently pinning down on expensive leather they’re about to ruin.

“Alright,” he concedes, putting both hands on each side of Erwin’s head and stilling his movements. “What inappropriate word do you charge me to use in workplace conversation next week, Sir?”

Erwin curls his index to coax Mike closer. He follows the order and leans over him until Erwin’s able to take his lower lip between his teeth and suck on it, and Mike’s groan lingers even after he’s let go with a loud pop.

“C.B.T,” Erwin enunciates.

Mike closes his mouth and swallows. Hard.