The noise Fisk made Ford's head spin. He'd never heard someone make a noise like that before, he didn't think — not that he had a great deal of experience in these matters, so maybe that wasn't saying much. Had Ford caused that groan? He didn't know what he'd done to create such a reaction, but he immediately wanted to do it again.

Then Fisk pushed his hips into Ford and there was another groan — a different timber. He heard it and wondered at the difference in noise before he realized that this time it had come from him, not from Fisk.

He finally did manage to pull away from the kiss, but the distance he put between them was only enough for Ford to start hastily undoing the buttons on his coat. He was breathing too heavily to speak and nearly too distracted to think, but managed to make eye contact with Fisk for a moment as he fumbled with the buttons.

And this was a terrible idea, and he knew it, because he was at work and if someone caught them he was going to be fired for sure, and then what? How could he ever face Noble after that conversation after dinner if he followed it up by letting everything blow up in their faces, by throwing everything away just because he was — desperately enjoying this, no matter what he told himself. Enjoying it or not, though, he had to stop before things went any further, he had to — except he also had to get this coat off, because this house was so hot that he thought if he didn't he'd probably die. He couldn't think straight, not even about what he was doing and what the consequences might be and what this might mean for him, for his whole family, until he had his coat off and he could get a little more air in his body, so he kept working through the buttons, and he held Fisk's eyes with his own despite the thoughts swirling in his mind.

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   Dorian Fisk

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Set by Lady!

The forced distance did little to dilute his desire or allow reason to win out. All thoughts of their kiss ending as just that were abandoned when Greengrass released a groan of his own. The muggles wouldn't return until after dinner most likely, especially considering the insisted early dismissal of the staff. They had time — limited and fleeting — but time enough to achieve some sort of pleasure.

Dory worked through his own coat's buttons with trembling hands. His warm brown eyes were blown wide with desire as they locked on Greengrass'. Between the two there were an infuriating amount of buttons to be undone, and he could manage the distance no longer. With their overcoats carelessly dropped to the ground, Dory closed the distance once more and pulled Greengrass flush against him. He kissed Greengrass for a short second before trailing a line of kisses from his lips to the soft expanse of his neck. There, Dory nipped and sucked at random, his hips pushing forward again of their own accord.

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   Fortitude Greengrass

Fisk kissed him again and that might have been it — he was finished at this point for sure, and now he didn't even have his coat for protection against the feeling of Fisk's hands on his body. When the other man's lips left his, though, it allowed Ford's brain to jump back into motion. Not entirely, not beyond frantically thinking oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, but that was farther than he'd been able to get a moment ago when he’d started stripping his coat off.

"H-hey," he managed, but that was as far as he got before Fisk hit a spot on his neck that made him feel weak in the knees again. He drew in a shuddering breath and shivered, despite being the farthest thing from cold.

  

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Set by Lady!

Well, fuck.

Dory pulled away completely with great reluctance. If Greengrass was trying to talk then it was likely because a boundary was pushed. (Which, fair.) He'd been involved with too many innocent virgins not to know what that stuttered hey was meant to be. (Something he would be sorely disappointed by. That was what it was meant to be.)

Breathing heavily and obviously disheveled, Dory looked at Greengrass expectantly.

  

Fisk pulled back and Ford leaned into him without even thinking about it, reluctant to put space between the two of them again. As soon as he realized he was doing that he stopped, forcing himself to stand up straight, but he felt like he'd given himself away all the same. Not like there was much left to give up at this point, was there? For all his confused thoughts at the beginning of this interaction, Ford hadn't put up much of a fight. It wasn't like he could stand here after that and claim he hadn't wanted it just as much as Fisk had, or maybe more. But what he wanted was irrelevant here; what was relevant was what he was risking by doing this, and what it might mean for everyone else if he was caught.

Fisk's face was flushed. Ford wondered if the rest of his skin was, too. His eyes sank to the man's collar briefly, but then he hurriedly forced his gaze back to Dorian's face.

"We should —" he began, but left off. He could not actually push the word stop from his mouth when it was the last thing he wanted to do.

  

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Set by Lady!

Perhaps it was Greengrass' inexperience or a general reluctance to cross a line Dory was still unsure of himself, but he couldn't help but be confused by the mixed messages. It was obvious from the intensity of the kiss and the way their bodies appeared to gravitate together that Greengrass was interested, too. Maybe the environment was the reason to stop. Maybe Greengrass was stressed about the homeowners returning. Though, if such was the case why allow for any risky moves at all? Why had Greengrass continuously pulled him in rather than shove him away.

His arms hung uselessly at his sides lest they reach for Greengrass again. "We should …" Dory echoed, only this was a question instead. He hadn't been the one to voice a concern, so he wouldn't be the one to force them to stop. That was entirely up to Greengrass to decide.

  

Ford bit his lip. He'd been expecting Fisk to agree, because although he hadn't finished his sentence he was sure the other man had picked up on his meaning. The question had him conflicted. Fisk acting as though this was fine, as though they could just do this in the middle of the work day and there wasn't any problem with that, was… unnerving, in a way. It meant there wasn't anything stopping them, except Ford’s own self control.

Ford raised his hand and reached towards Fisk's chest. He almost touched him, but stopped and balled his hand into a fist at the last minute. He shook his head, trying to clear the thought of seeing if he could tell how fast Fisk's heart was beating even through his shirt. He was waging war with his impulses, and it couldn't have been more obvious from his body language.

He took in a deep breath. Again, he nearly touched Fisk, but stopped himself. He let the breath out as a sigh and reached up to run both hands through his hair, half because he was exasperated and half because at least then he could be sure he wouldn't find himself grabbing Fisk by the lapels and pulling him in again.

"... Fuck," he breathed, more to himself than to Fisk.

  

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Set by Lady!

As Greengrass worked through his inner conflict, Dory couldn't help but wonder if he had somehow forced this scenario. The thought left him deeply unsettled once more, so much so that he took a tiny step back. Dory thought he had respected Greengrass' boundaries, hadn't written again or sought him out for any other loaded conversations. Even today, he asked only the necessary questions until they were quite literally colliding into one another. Still, he couldn't shake the nagging thought that he'd done something wrong, something immoral. Dory tapped his fingers against his thigh, his arousal still throbbing and almost painful.

This was definitely immoral. Still, it was something he desperately wanted.

He reached out to place a tentative hand on Greengrass' shoulder, more to try and ground him than to continue nearly fucking in a random house. "We don't have to do anything you don't want," Dory said quietly. "I can take it from here if you need to go."

  

Ford had just managed to pull his eyes off of Fisk for the first time in minutes when Fisk reached out and touched him again. Fisk’s hand might as well have been made of fire — it burned against his shoulder and sent desire radiating through him again. A thought flashed through his mind like a vision: he could reach up and grab Fisk's hand and hold it between his fingers, could press his tongue against the soft skin on the inside of his wrist —

That was weird, right? Even if Fisk was acting like the kissing was no big deal, even if he wanted to touch Ford, that was weird. Ford couldn't do that, but he also couldn't get it out of his mind now. Tasting Fisk's skin, maybe some of his sweat —

"— Yeah," he said shakily, looking down at Fisk's shirt instead of his face. If he stayed, he didn't think he'd be able to stop himself from doing… maybe not exactly that, but something he'd regret, certainly. And backing out after kissing Dorian Fisk was probably more salvageable, in the long term, than freaking him out after kissing him. "Yeah, I should go."

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   Cassius Lestrange, Dorian Fisk

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Set by Lady!

He nodded, hand dropping back to his side as he took a small but decisive step back. Greengrass leaving was most likely for the best; the muggles could feasibly return at any time and would be horrified by two men embracing (or worse) in their parlor.

Still, Dory couldn't help the wave of disappointment that washed over him. His desire for Greengrass sat on embers for over a month but was now a raging forest fire. Dory could easily overpower Greengrass, could pin and bend him as he dreamt to. It would be easy, especially when considering how eagerly Greengrass has pulled him in. Except, Dory had never — and would never — force himself upon someone. Flaming desire or no, Greengrass wished to leave and Dory had no choice but to accept that.

He took another step back. The scent of Greengrass' aftershave continued to overwhelm him, threatening every ounce of Dory's restraint. "Alright," he said finally with a nod. "I'll be alright here."

  

Fisk looked a little worse for wear, after their little interlude — Ford could see a wrinkle in the fabric of his shirt over his right breast. He didn’t even remember putting his hand there, but it must have happened when Fisk kissed his neck, because that was definitely what had caused the ruffle. Ford could picture how his fingers would fit into the wrinkles, and picturing it made his hand twitch as though he wanted to confirm his suspicions on that count by tangling in the fabric again. If Fisk had little signs of what had just happened, though, Ford was sure he did, too. He couldn’t just walk out onto the street like this, and he certainly couldn’t make it back to the Ministry. Even if he didn’t have anything obviously awry in his appearance, he would have felt so conspicuous he might as well have forged a literal sign out of shame to carry over his head.

“I’m going to use the washroom,” he said abruptly. He could pull himself back together there, take a moment, and then brave London once he was confident he didn’t look as disheveled as he felt.

  

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Set by Lady!

Dory ran his hand through his hair as soon as Greengrass left the room, an anxious habit. The other man could've just used a spell to collect himself rather than potentially subject them both to further interaction. It was bad enough that Dory had kissed him — kissed him! — without the added complications discussing what it meant and whether or not either man could be trusted.

He picked up both their coats and shook the wrinkles from Greengrass' first before carefully laying it over the side of the nearest chair. Then, he put his back on and turned to survey the room once more. There was still the issue of his problem, but one awkward adjustment later and it was securely tucked into the waistband of his pants. Uncomfortable and awkward, and should Greengrass look still decidedly visible, but manageable until he was able to calm himself down.

Turning back to survey the room, Dory caught sight of the book. Things were moving. Right, because he would be able to focus on that now. He drew his wand and cast the usual spells used when first beginning to diagnose an issue. At least that would give him something to do with his hands other than fidget and touch his hair.

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   Cassius Lestrange

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beautiful set by lady

Ford was barely aware of himself as he made his way to the washroom. His body seemed like it was existing in a different plane than the rest of him. Luckily he already knew where he was going, from his investigation of this place the week before. The door shut behind him and he leaned heavily on the counter, trying to force himself to breathe. He watched himself in the mirror for a moment, then poured some water into the sink and splashed it onto his face. It wasn’t that there was anything to wash off, really — it was more the sensation of having something cool on his skin, trying to force himself back into his body in a way that he could handle.

That had all happened too quickly. He’d never consciously thought about any of it happening, unless it was to push his brain a little further into denial as his body went off on its own accord. That was a little terrifying, though, because how much further could it have gotten if he’d spoken up just a minute or two later? Or if he hadn’t spoken up at all?

Ford looked in the mirror again. He angled his chin up so that his neck was exposed, then let his fingertips trail from the edge of his chin down the taut skin towards his shoulder. All the places Fisk had just kissed him. He shuddered involuntarily at the memory, then shook his head to try and clear it. He splashed water on his face again, getting the edge of his collar and the curls on his forehead wet. He was still aroused, but the bulge in his pants seemed like a secondary problem compared to the tingling feeling all over his skin. He felt hypersensitive to everything — how was he going to walk through London like this?

This whole thing was so risky, and he felt guilt settling in his stomach as the tingling in his arms and chest subsided. True, it wasn’t as though he’d planned for it to happen, but that would have been little consolation if someone had caught him. A complaint to the wrong person would be all it would take to lose his job, and it wasn’t as though he had a wealth of transferable skills he could just go apply elsewhere. A rumor in the wrong direction might see him ostracized from the club and from the social scene, and then where would the girls be? And if both were to happen — they were dead in the water, the lot of them. They might as well just take out as many loans as they could and flee the country and hope their creditors never caught up with them, because their chances of survival in England after something like that would be nonexistent.

Eventually he decided to go back out, not because he felt as though he’d fully recovered but because he thought his absence might start to feel conspicuous, and he’d straightened his clothing as much as he reasonably could. Fisk was working in the parlor when he returned. Ford loitered in the doorway. He bit his lower lip and tried to think of what to say. He had to say something, because he would have to come in to get his jacket.

“Hey,” he said, just to alert the other man to his presence in the doorway. He still didn’t know what to say, and the thing that came to mind most readily was I really liked what you were doing to my neck, but obviously that was out of the question.

“Sorry,” he said instead, cheeks flushing deep red.

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   Dorian Fisk

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Set by Lady!

The diagnostic spells didn't give him much to go off of except that it was, in fact, the result of another burst of magic caused by the strange muggle child. It wasn't a lingering effect of the pumpkin mishap, at least, so he hadn't missed anything on his last visit. That was good, reassuring even. Dory made so many mistakes on the job lately — the post office insanity the main highlight — that he wouldn't be able to handle another mishap like that.

(That kissing Greengrass while on the job was another mishap was something Dory refused to acknowledge at present. Later, when he was home and not further aroused by a simple 'hey', he would struggle with the actions of the day. Although, if he was being honest with himself Dorian knew he would be unable to think of this afternoon without the same bodily reaction.)

He turned on his heel to face Greengrass again, brows furrowed at the apology. As far as Dory was concerned, Greengrass wasn't the one to have made the mistake. He was the victim, the kiss-ee, not the kisser. "Not your fault," Dory said in an attempt to wave it off. "I shouldn't have done that."

  

I liked it, Ford thought immediately. It was such a strong and sudden thought that he very nearly said it out loud, and had to bite his lip to hold it back. Of course he knew that Fisk was right, just like Ford knew that he should have pushed the other man away instead of pulling him closer, but he felt a tiny surge of disappointment at the words all the same. There had been something in the air a few minutes earlier when Fisk had repeated his words we should… that Ford felt they were losing now. When Fisk had been acting as though this wasn't a problem at all, as though he did this all the time (maybe he did), it had been a little exhilarating. There were possibilities tingling in the air between their bodies like tiny fireworks.

Of course, all of that was what had made it so difficult to decide to stop touching Fisk, so maybe it was for the best that they were fading now.

“Guess not,” he said a little lamely in response. He knew Fisk shouldn’t have kissed him, just like Ford knew that he ought to have pushed him away when he did. But that clearly hadn’t been what happened, and he was finding it hard to push himself, mentally, back into that mindset. At least while Fisk was standing right there, still looking a little flushed, and they were still alone. It was one thing to know all the reasons this was a terrible idea when he was alone in the bathroom, but another to actually put that sentiment into words while looking right at the man he'd much rather be touching.

“Not at work, anyway,” he added, not really realizing how it sounded. He was more trying to convince himself than trying to communicate to Fisk. Regardless of how it had felt, regardless of how he felt now, it wasn’t alright to just kiss someone in the middle of the workday. So, if nothing else, he could latch on to that — that part was wrong, even if he was a little… conflicted about all the rest of it.

  

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Set by Lady!

"Yeah, I guess I thought -" he began to try and explain but fell short. It didn't matter what he thought or assumed, not when Greengrass had repeatedly made his opinion on the matter known. (Perhaps he was alright with kissing men and just not him? His stomach fell at the thought.) He was unable to meet the shorter man's eyes, his attention focused just off his shoulder instead. It would be better if Greengrass just left, more tolerable. Again, Dory's hand ran through his hair, the long strands now tousled every which direction.

Not at work, anyway.

Dory's eyes immediately widened in surprise as he shifted his gaze to assess the expression on Greengrass' face.. Not at work implied they could have kissed elsewhere, and an invitation to do just that nearly tumbled out. He lived alone in a flat that had thorough soundproofing charms cast throughout. They needn't make it further than the floo before undressing. The idea fueled his desire all the more, causing any relief to his groin to be forgotten in its need. However, Greengrass looked as uneasy as Dory felt. Obviously, such an invitation wouldn't be well received. Obviously, Greengrass hadn't meant what he said. Obviously, Dory ought to just keep his mouth shut so this encounter could end soon.

"Where, then?" The question came tumbling from his lips, and, to his horror, sounded vaguely hopeful.

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   Fortitude Greengrass