Servers Over Capacity

perfectly-safe replied to your photo: I see my programmers felt it was make-over time….

It’s certainly a good look.

It didn’t bother him as much as it did and probably should have, but E was having a very hard time thinking about anything that didn’t involve Tumblr’s hands all over him and whether or not he was the kind of man who would do something like take him up against the door as soon as they walked inside his home.

Rough.. hard.. as thorough as that kiss.

And maybe it was how long it had been since he’d interfaced, or just the fact that it was Tumblr who would have him, but he felt almost as light-headed from the excitement of it all as he had before, something that also made him feel wonderfully bold.

He leaned in, simply letting their lips brush together.. but the slow caress of it, the way his breath escaped softly just as he pulled back again, made the whole thing a great deal more sensual then he was capable of doing intentionally.

“Good man. I knew you’d see reason.” He clapped a hand to Tumblr’s shoulder, but allowed it to linger.

“If we talk again on this matter, it won’t be as congenial. Remember— he might be your subordinate, but he’s my sub. It’s taken a long time to get where we are now, and I don’t let go easily.” He demonstrated by squeezing, knowing his hands were strong, knowing that the pressure should stop just this side of painful. 

He let go and turned away, before thinking better of it, and turning back.

But it wasn't until Google's hand had left his shoulder, a faint imprint of the pressure still lingering, that he felt spooked.

And he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn't have wanted to be in E's shoes at that moment.

He gave a curt nod at Google's parting words, taking a deep gulp from his glass in an attempt to put this encounter behind him as soon as possible.

He’d expected blind panic from Tumblr. It was a play that had done him very well in the past. 

“He’s volatile. Needs a strong guiding hand, I’m sure you understand. I’m afraid I doted… I’ve spoiled him. He might still be trying to ask you for what he needs from you— what he expects you’ll deliver. But then, that’s my fault too— how should he know any better? But soon he’ll be asking you about adding extra hours, working together more closely. He’s heavy handed, never quite got used to the idea of subtlety. And he’ll play coy about it. But oh, I could play you recordings— sorry. That isn’t the point. The point is, he doesn’t have the programming for strings free attachment. He’s idolized you since entering the system, and you’ve gone and opened the door for him to get hopeful.”

He swigged from his freshly arrived drink. 

“If you don’t want to hurt him even worse later, when he’s grown attached, and so sure he’s found his new place in life, at your side, hurt him now. Give him the mercy stroke and keep him at arm’s length. But do it soon, while your professional relationship is still salvageable.” He spread his hands, palms upwards, the universe spanning gesture for ‘I have nothing to hide’.

Oh, the argument seemed sound. But there were an awful lot of assumptions being made on E's behalf, and that struck him as odd.

He sat back when Google was finished, seemingly considering his request.

Oh, the answer was a resounding no at the words "hurt him now," but...maybe talking to E about what he thought about the situation was a good idea, figure out his expectations before determining whether or not they needed to be set straight. At least that much he'd gotten from Google.

True, E had seemed remarkably more chipper at work since they'd spent the night together, but the blond hadn't really struck him as...assuming. He'd kept a pretty professional relationship between them, albeit a bit friendlier than they'd been before. Nothing that would set of warning bells...But maybe he just didn't know his subordinate too well yet. They had only started to get to know eachother recently.

“Do you know how he was living, before he lived with me, before you started paying him, because of me? No. No, I’m sure you don’t. Missing meals to pay for other necessities, missing even more when he was beat up and mugged for his petty cash… it wasn’t safe. I’m the best thing to ever have happened to him. He just seems to have forgotten. And that, Tumblr, is where you come in.”

He steepled his fingers. Now that Tumblr had gotten snappy, he felt a little more evenly footed. Ready to do business. 

But no matter. 

“E is always relevant to me, and always will be. I don’t care if he’s your subordinate, you didn’t want him, I laid my claim. So I’ll ask you again— what is he to you, beyond a professional capacity? Are you going to… hurt him?” 

He wasn’t entirely sure what his voice or face was doing at this point. 

He couldn’t tell if he wanted Tumblr to say no, or… if he was desperately hoping to be able to swoop in and ‘save’ E from him. Or maybe just to watch E twist in the winds of his own fate. He’d brought it on himself, after all. 

"And what if I was interested in more than just a fuck? Funny, I was under the impression that you and E broke up, thereby ending your 'claim' to him," he remarked mildly.

Honestly, as great a person as he'd begun to see E was, he genuinely had no interest in pursuing a relationship outside of the bedroom with his subordinate. But he was interested in seeing just in what state Google was in.

His jaw hurt and he thought he might have damaged something, but he doubted it. 

He worked his mouth open and closed a few times, before managing to sputter out a simple, 

“Why?” 

He didn’t sound weak, just angry. The hurt wasn’t showing through. Only the threat. That was good. That was how he wanted it. 

He settled for a barely-restrained scoff instead.

The point of this trip set him on edge, and thinking about it only made it worse. He ached, all of him did, and not the least of which was his core, his teeth, where he was grounding them together, his knuckles, squeezed tight over his lightcycle’s steering rods… 

didn’t matter. 

Right now, Tumblr mattered. E mattered. His anger, that mattered. The betrayal he felt, the embarrassment, the urge to destroy things, yeah, that all mattered.

Speed safety was of no concern. Looking less than murderous, he wouldn’t bother with. 

He strolled into the bar looking like a fight primed and ready to happen. He was somewhat surprised he wasn’t immediately asked to leave— and then he remembered who he was, and a feral grin split his face. 

He could afford to trash this place if he wanted— and he figured everyone knew it. 

Or maybe it was the way face-clawingly irritating manner in which Google seemed to think he was fit to stand on a pedestal above everyone else.

But Tumblr just really, really did not feel like talking to the man in the least at that moment, especially about E. Thankfully, at least they were meeting somewhere where he could nurse a drink and take the edge off.

He saw Google take a seat beside him from the edge of his sight, hardly needing his peripheral vision to sense the daggers the other man seemed to be glaring at him at that moment. He took another calm sip of his drink as he continued to face forward, seemingly unperturbed.

feelluckypunk replied to your post: I want words with you. Alone. Now.

Where can I meet you?

You can meet me somewhere, or I can come over to your place.