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do i owe each kiss?

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It's sometimes after 5 when he heads to Ghazul's office, a plastic bag filled with Ghazul's favorite snacks hanging on his forearm. Getting out of his office before 8 PM is a blessing for Ganda, and though the thought of sleeping early is a temptation, he'd rather go to see his boss slash lover — the other man has sulked when he said he wouldn't be able to see him tonight, so Ganda guesses he could give him a surprise.

With a hum, Ganda gives the receptionist a nod before he heads straight to the elevator, skipping a little in his steps. He hasn't seen Ghazul for a while, works have taken its toll on them. Maybe, just maybe, there will be some loving for him if he makes an appearance. The thought brings a grin to his face and he steps out of the elevator, trying to muffle his giggle.

Ganda raises his hand, knuckles rapping on the wooden door and hoping that Ghazul is inside. There are scuffling noises coming from the room and after a moment, Ghazul's low and gentle voice reaches his ear. "Enter."

Smile plastered firmly on his face, Ganda pushes the door open and peeks inside. "Sir?" He could see that Ghazul is sitting behind his wooden desk, his eyes growing wider at the sight of Ganda. The surprise disappears, replaced with a cool, assessing stare, and he gets to his feet.

"Ganda." The younger man's face softens, and Ganda takes it as a permission to step into the room.

"Figure you haven't eaten anything, so I brought snacks." With a grin, Ganda shows him the plastic bag hanging on his forearm. Ghazul is still staring at him, though there is a quirk on his lips — more of a smirk, rather than a smile — but soft. Ganda approaches him, setting the plastic bag on his desk before he lands his gaze on the other man. He looks good, as always — maybe Ganda is just too biased — not a single sign of sleepless nights on his face.

A hand touching his shoulder startles him out of his reverie, only to find Ghazul just several inches away from him. Ganda blinks, noticing the wondering look the younger's eyes, and raises an eyebrow in silent question. "What are you doing here? I thought you were busy." His voice is quiet, an undertone of hurt carefully concealed, but Ganda has spent years around the man to know his antics.

"The meeting was cancelled," Ganda hums, whole body itches to pull Ghazul into his embrace. He forces himself to stay still but according to Ghazul's entirely knowing look, he doesn't do a great job at it. "I got to go home early but, well, haven't seen you a lot lately." His cheeks heat up at the sudden confession, and Ganda turns his face to a side to hide his reddened face. In front of him, Ghazul lets out a quiet chuckle, muffled by his palm.

"So that's why," Ghazul nods his head, still with his knowing smile, before he leans in to brush his lips against Ganda's cheek. Ganda feels his eyes widen in surprise — Ghazul has tried really hard to keep their relationship a secret, lest Pengkor knows, and he never, ever one for public display affection. They're not entirely on public's eyes right now, but Ganda has always thought that no intimate touches allowed when they're not at home. As Ganda snaps out of his thoughts, he finds Ghazul already pulling away, face contorted in slight dejection.

Fearing that the younger man took his passive moment as a rejection and lack of enthusiasm, Ganda quickly reaches out to hold Ghazul's hips in his hands. "Is this okay?" he asks, a frown on his face, and as Ghazul nods his head, Ganda couldn't help the sharp relief under his ribcage so he leans in to press a chaste kiss on the other man's lips.

He tastes like cigarettes — and he told him to quit! — and something purely Ghazul , the source of Ganda's addiction. One kiss turns into two, the initially soft and shy kiss grows hotter, desire mingling with sheer want . Ganda could feel Ghazul's hands roaming blindly along his arms and torso, as if he's trying to feel him up and pulling him closer. A moan escapes his lips as he feels teeth sinking down on his lower lip and it takes everything in him to untangles himself from Ghazul. "I miss you," Ganda murmurs, forehead pressing against Ghazul's. They're panting quietly, breaths tangling into one and from the close proximity, he could see the red patch of skin around Ghazul's lips and chin.

"I miss you too." There is no mistaking the hungry flash in Ghazul's eyes and as Ganda brings his hands up to cup the other man's cheeks, he already surges forward to catch his lips in a searing kiss. Sometimes, sometimes , Ganda forgets how strong Ghazul is — the bulky coats he favors hides his perfectly toned body from sight. Ganda lets out a quiet squeak against Ghazul's lips as the other man pushes him backwards until he's leaning backwards against the desk. The hard edges of the wooden desk is digging painfully against the back of his thighs, but Ganda doesn't care — he has Ghazul's lips against his ear and one hand running downwards.

"Wait, wait, hold up." Ganda takes a hold of Ghazul's wrist, making the other man pauses in his action. He gives Ganda a scowl but Ganda refuses to be deterred. "Are we doing it here?" he asks, voice dubious. "It's not like I mind, but—" Ganda gestures wildly to the expanse of the room, motioning the clear window that shows the skyline of Djakarta. Ghazul snorts at him, hands already fumbling with Ganda's belt, unbuckling it.

"Are you scared ?" Ghazul is quiet, but his gaze shows that he'd rather not have a disagreement about this. Or he's just horny. God, another thing that Ganda often forgot is that Ghazul has the sex-drive of a teenager and he's practically insatiable. "I haven't seen you in days ," he continues, whine slowly creeping into his voice, and Ganda knows if Ghazul does this, that means he really wants it. 

Ganda stops the other man yet again with a hand on his wrist, and Ghazul shoots him an inpatient look. "Aren't you going to at least lock the door?" The hand on his grip wriggles and Ghazul finally gets his belt and pants undone — he looks like a cat that got the cream. 

"No need to, no one's going up here." With that, Ghazul tugs his pants down to his thighs, a wicked grin on his lips. He leans in to press small, wet kisses along Ganda's neck, teeth leaving small marks on the skin. All Ganda could do is moan and bares his neck, letting Ghazul stakes his claim over him. The man is thorough with the marks — Ganda is sure he needs to at least use concealer to hide the bruises, or just use a high collared shirt. "Are you going to stand there and watch me take my clothes off?" 

His words cause Ganda to let out a surprised laugh — Ghazul is one hell of a demanding person, even in bed — and he obediently peels off his suit jacket, revealing gorgeous torso wrapped in a tight white shirt. Ghazul smirks at him, knowing full well that he looks sinfully amazing, and arches into Ganda's touch as he unbuttons his shirt. The shirt sways open and Ganda couldn't help but swallows down hard, mouth suddenly dry. Eyes automatically trained on Ghazul's bare torso and Ganda reaches out to lay his hand on his toned abdomen, tracing his fingers along the dips and bumps of his muscles.

"Like what you see, huh?" Always so talkative during sex, Ghani Zulham — all Ganda wants to do is to wipe that smug look from his pace and turns him into a whining, begging mess. He can do it, he already did it once. With a groan, an affirmation to Ghazul's words, he leans in for another kiss, tongue already darting out past the other man's lips. Against him, Ghazul lets out a gleeful noise and returns the kiss fervently, his clothed erection rubbing against Ganda's bare thigh.

The hand on Ghazul's stomach trails down to his crotch to squeeze firmly, and from the choked noise Ghazul lets out against his mouth, he really does want it. Ganda sometimes wishes that he doesn't need air to stay alive — Ghazul is intense and determined, and his kisses are exactly like that. It sends his blood rushing through his body, filling him with sparks and heat, he feels alive . As they pull away, Gands notices how swollen Ghazul's lips are and how pretty they will look around his dick, but still — what Ghazul wants, Ganda shall do.

"What do you want?" Gands murmurs, arms circling Ghazul's narrow waist and pulls him closer. The other man is fiddling with the button of his shirt, plucking them open, but he's silent as he does so. Ganda is patient, but his erection says the opposite.

As Ghazul finishes unbuttoning his shirt, he lets out a quiet noise in satisfaction and runs one hand down his torso. "You've been working out." His eyes are roaming along his bare chest and stomach, a hint of pink tongue peeking between his lips. His expression is hungry, but not in a lecherous way, and Ganda suspects they won't be getting out of this office anytime soon.

"I want you inside me." His words send a jolt of arousal through him, erection twitching in interest inside his briefs. Ghazul is now watching him and, Ganda doesn't know if he does this on purpose, he's biting down on his lower lip — eyes dark and sultry. "I want this ," his hand is suddenly on his crotch, squeezing, "inside me." A low moan escapes his lips, hips rocking into Ghazul's palm. "And I want you to do it hard ."

Faced with such demand, Ganda couldn't bring himself to refuse. He nods his head, throat already went dry, and watches as deep satisfaction settles in Ghazul's eyes — this man is going to be the death of him, literally or metaphorically. "I apologize for this, Sir." And with that, he heaves the man in his arms — his daily workout was designed so he can lift his boss up without struggling — and turns around, laying Ghazul down on the surface of the wooden desk. The other man is staring at him with wide eyes, breath coming in small pants — it's either he likes being manhandled or he gets off on being called 'Sir' during sex.

Interesting thoughts — Ganda files them later for further observation, and his hands are deft as he unbuckles Ghazul's belt. As he tugs the pants down, Ghazul's erection springs free, and holy shit, he goes commando . Above him, Ghazul squirms a little, red staining his tanned face as if he's embarrassed. Ganda only raises an eyebrow at him before he bends down to wrap his lips around the other man's erection.

The sound Ghazul makes always does something to his ego. His lips curl up into a satisfied grin as Ghazul's hand settles on the back of his head, and he slowly sinks down, trying to take the whole length inside his mouth. It's a secret but Ganda finds himself enjoying being the giving end of a fellatio. He's never been with a man before — hell, he thought he was strictly heterosexual before he met Ghazul — but he is eager to learn, especially after seeing Ghazul's dick. Ghazul is packed , though not excessively so, and the reaction he gives is always so sweet, so responsive . It's instantly addicting.

Ganda hums around the length, cheeks hollowed, and he bobs his head in a steady pace, tongue pressed against the underside. There are noises coming from Ghazul, breathy and low, and it's a surprise that Ghazul is never loud during sex. Ganda has his hands on Ghazul's legs, propping them on the desk with his knees bent, spreading them apart, and with this position, everything is bare to his eyes. A shove against his head startles Ganda and he glances up to Ghazul glaring at him. "Ganda, come on."

"I want to come with you inside me." The younger man is downright whining right now, and hell if that doesn't go straight to his erection. Ganda pulls away with a slick noise, darting his tongue out to spare the head a messy lick only to draw more moans from Ghazul, and gets to his feet. His joints creak under his weight, making him wince. "Come on." There is a pack of condom and a bottle of lube shoved into his hands, and Ganda stares at Ghazul's flushed face. Pushy bottom , Ganda thinks affectionately, and he leans in for another kiss.

Ghazul is still for a moment before he kisses back, chaste despite their position. Tongue tangled and hints of teeth against flesh — God, Ganda could die a happy man right now. But of course, he can't, lest Ghazul will hunt him to the afterlife for dying before he could get his dick inside him. He pushes away after a moment, lips forming a cheeky smile. "Your wish is my command, Sir." Ghazul makes a quiet, bitten off noise and confirmed — he likes being addressed as 'Sir', the kinky son of a bitch.

Still grinning to himself, and completely ignoring the glare directed at him, Gands uncaps the lube in favor to coat his fingers with the liquid. Though Ghazul likes it rough and on the edge of pain, Ganda doesn't want him to hurt. One finger sinks to his knuckles, gentle and slow, and Ganda watches in fascination at how Ghazul's face goes slack and his mouth falls open. " Fuck ," he murmurs reverently, and Ganda takes it as a permission to move his finger. He goes slow, and as expected, it's too slow for Ghazul because he starts to move his hips impatiently. "More."

"I'm not going to break," Ghazul grits out, frustration mingles with desperation, and Ganda obliges, pushing two more fingers into him. He is quite big, alright, he doesn't want Ghazul to limp after this. He curls his fingers upwards and that's it, Ghazul's loud moan sounds like music to his ears. The younger man is trembling, his cock leaking against his stomach, and Ganda rubs the spot again firmly just to see how Ghazul quivers under his touch. It's amusing to see how sensitive Ghazul is, but Ganda isn't one to talk, his reaction to having his prostate massaged is exactly the same.

"Ganda." Now with an underlying threat in his voice, Ghazul pushes Ganda away, a frown on his forehead. "Now, please ." Oh, he's desperate now if he starts being polite. Ganda hums, still moving his digits to loosen the muscles around his fingers.

"Impatient." Ganda doesn't tut, no, he still wants to stay alive, but it's a near thing. He tugs his briefs down, exhaling in relief as he feels the pressure against his erection disappears, and stops. Thinks. "Hey, want to do it bare next time?" They have gotten themselves checked before they slept together for the first time, and clean, they're both clean. Ganda only uses condom because he thought it's something Ghazul would want, though he never asks the other man about it.

Ghazul lets out a quiet noise with great interest, eyes locked on his erection, before he gives Ganda a lascivious grin. "Yeah, sure." But for now — he tears one foil open with his teeth before rolling the rubber over his length. He might have drizzled more lube than necessary but it's better to be safe than sorry.

When he sinks down, it's heavenly. Ghazul is tight around him, a vice around his cock, and so very warm . They both let out a groan in unison as Ganda bottoms out, fine tremor running through his body. "Oh, fuck." Ghazul is trembling a little, voice low with conviction, and he wraps his legs around Ganda's waist, pulling his close. "Come on, move ."

The man is definitely going to be the death of him. The first thrust causes the desk to creak dangerously, but Ganda pays it no mind because Ghazul is spread out underneath him, all for him to use, and his face — he's not going to last long if the other man keeps staring at him like that. Every snap of his hips draws a groan from Ghazul, whose face is scrunched with pleasure and eyes clenching shut. He's too good , and the way Ganda is gripping Ghazul's thighs will probably leave bruises later. 

He distantly remembers how they didn't bother locking the door before, and how the window in Ghazul's office is clear — though the probability for anyone to see them is small, Ganda couldn't help but rubbing that on Ghazul. He leans close, lips against the other man's ear. "What would your secretary think if she sees you like this?" Against him, Ghazul lets out another whine — fucking hell, he does get off on this. 

"I've seen her making eyes on you," Ganda says, tone casual, as if he's talking about the weather and he is not slamming his hips into him. "She likes you, Ghani, she wants you to screw her stupid." It's jealousy, mostly — insecurity rooted deep and the lingering thought of 'why did he choose me over these people?'. His lover is immensely popular among men and women alike, and to see that Ghazul choose him over them is baffling. Ganda dreads the day when Ghazul will leave him for someone else but — let him have this, for now.

"And I only want to screw you stupid." Ghazul's voice is a mere rasp now, throat raw from groaning, but he stares at Ganda like he's the answer to all his prayers — metaphor, Ganda knows he doesn't pray. "Or be screwed stupid by you . Fuck, she can see but she can't touch." Mine, mine, mine , Ganda thinks fervently — Ghazul might never say it the way he does but the man is also possessive, extremely so. Territorial too.

"Ganda." When it's said with such voice, low and throaty, Ganda couldn't help but driving his hips harder. Each thrusts slowly tips him towards the edge, tendrils of pleasure coiling along his spine. He wraps his fingers around Ghazul's leaking length, thumb firmly rubbing the head, and Ghazul lets out a noise if he's been punched in his stomach. Ganda's hand is moving in tandem with his hips, his pace growing frantic. The man underneath him is tense, as if he's about to snap anytime. He's close, Ganda knows, and he doubles his effort 

Ghazul is quiet when he comes, back arching off the desk and Ganda feels his muscles clamping down on his erection. He shudders through his release, a drawn-out whine slips past him, face scrunching up in pleasure. Ganda half wishes he could get his phone out and records this exact moment, because Ghazul is a work of art and he deserves to be worshipped. 

Two more thrusts and it's Ganda, coming so hard his head goes into one static mess. He topples forward with a groan, taking his chance to sink his teeth against Ghazul's chest. The man makes a noise in surprise but he lets him, his spent cock twitching against his pelvis. Biting kink — shit , Ghazul is one kinky fucker. Ganda laps the mark with his tongue but not pushing himself off Ghazul, physically unable to. He feels as if he's finished a race, panting heavily against the other man's chest. They're both soaked and slick with sweat, to Ganda's grimace. "Fuck."

Above him, Ghazul lets out a breathless chuckle. "Fuck indeed." One gentle nudge urges Ganda to pull away and he stares at Ghazul — the man is smiling at him, soft and completely at ease. Ganda feels his breath stutters in his chest at the sight. Realization dawns on him and — "I love you," he blurts out before clamping his mouth shut because, shit

"Do you say that to everyone you fuck?" Ghazul's voice is wry and Ganda forces himself to meet his eyes. He looks… glum, but there is a small sad smile on his lips. The word 'fuck' makes Ganda stiffens, eyebrows drawn into a frown.

"No." With a soft sigh, he pulls away, discarding the condom into the trash. Something heavy has settled in his stomach and he suddenly feels weary. "Pretty sure I only said that to you."

"Wait—" Ghazul reaches out to grab him, wincing a little as he moves. He carefully slips from the desk to properly wraps his hand around Ganda's wrist. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

A part of Ganda wants a laugh because did Ghazul just say sorry to him? But the other part of him is wary, because Ghazul never says sorry to him.

"I didn't mean it like that. I was just… surprised." The heavy, sinking feeling in his stomach dissipates a little, and Ganda offers the younger man a soft smile.

"It's fine, it surprised me too." With a chuckle, he makes to dislodge Ghazul's hand from around his wrist but the man doesn't budge. "Ghani?" He's staring at Ganda, gaze entirely unreadable.

"I love you too." His voice is too quiet, but Ganda manages to catch it. "I love you too. Has been, for a while," Ghazul says, his smile so beautiful it steals the air out of Ganda's lungs.

"Only you," Ghazul adds after a moment, stepping closer to steal a kiss from his lips. Ganda chuckles against his lips, breathless in relief and joy.

"Only you, making post-coital glow into something slightly angsty and sappy." Ganda's remark startles a laugh from Ghazul, and they pull away reluctantly. Ganda grimaces at the drying come in his palm as they put their clothes on, and with a roll of his eyes, Ghazul throws him a roll of tissue and gestures to the bathroom.

"Stay at my place tonight." They're in the elevator, Ganda's arm around Ghazul's waist and the snacks he bought earlier is hanging on his forearm. Ganda glances sideways at him, wondering at the sudden request. But Ghazul is staring at him with a smile on his lips and it's hard to say no to him.

"Alright. But I expect good coffee when I wake up tomorrow." Ghazul huffs at that, looking vaguely affronted, but he siddles closer to press his lips against the corner of Ganda's lips. The elevator door slides open, revealing Ghazul's secretary in front of them.

She stares at them for a moment, eyes darting to Ganda's arm around Ghazul and their close proximity. With a slight smile, Ghazul steps forward, walking past the woman, and Ganda follows closely behind him. He flashes a grin at the woman, catching her flushes red as she notices the way Ghazul is limping slightly, and it feels like a small victory for him.