I needed a break from writing 'Losing' and a longer fic I'm working on, and somehow I ended up writing this.
Pairings: Sinja and Ja'farXpaperwork
Warnings: PWP, spanking, probably faulty English here and there
I do not own 'Magi: Labyrinth of magic' or its characters
Nothing in this world was more satisfying than watching how delicate lines of ink sunk into paper behind Ja'far's pen. He always made sure to have the finest paper - the finest paper still within an appropriate price range for office use, of course - and the purest ink. The sheer elegance of the two combining was almost overwhelming to him, at times. Enough for Ja'far to grab at his cup of tea on the corner of his desk in order to pause his writing for a moment, as to not get emotional over the calculations of this year's expenses.
Although, it might be the extremity of some of the numbers that caused him to be emotional, mainly the ones that were linked to alcohol and unnecessary buffet parties.
He shortly glanced up at the other desk in the room, where his king was sitting slumped over his papers. Seeing the bored look on the man's face, he decided it would be best to ignore him altogether and get on with work.
He gently put his cup down and picked his pen back up, drawing an elegant line underneath his previous calculations. The numbers flowing from his pen at each few strokes were mesmerizing in themselves. As a child, he'd never even imagined he'd ever learn how to read or write. He hadn't cared for such beauty. But now, it was his everything. Maybe even more than the whiny king trying to throw a temper tantrum across the room.
He could hear the screeching of his own teeth on one another when his hand slipped, a large scratch in his paper now filling with ink. He looked at it in horror. The document had been so perfect! There wasn't a smudge to the edge, not a splotch of ink, not even a roughness to the fabric! And now it was ruined, all his neat calculations no longer drawing the attention on the page because that scratch was there and it was Sinbad's fault!
"What?" He hissed sharply, glaring at his king.
Sinbad seemed to flinch back for a moment at his strong reaction - good! - but then he pouted. "I need you to look at this report for me before I sign it, because you are the one who oversaw the planning of this mission."
Ja'far blinked in surprise. Was that... was that Sinbad actually asking him a work-related question? The king looked so bored out of his mind, he wasn't expecting anything but whining and complaining. Perhaps teasing.
"Oh. Well. Of course." He carefully put down his pen before rushing over to Sinbad's desk. He couldn't let a chance like this go by, now could he?
He took the report from Sinbad's hands, his eyes flying over it. It was about a mission being sent out to that new dungeon that recently popped up among the islands south of Sindria. The men would only be looking around, seeing if no harm was being done and no fools were going to go there unprepared. Pretty basic, really. He wondered why Sinbad would ask his advise on this one.
"You know, that's the last of my work," Sinbad told him smugly, "with one more signature, I'll be done for the day."
Ja'far eyed him curiously. It seemed like he was telling the truth. Had he really been working that hard while Ja'far had been absorbed in his calculations?
"There's nothing wrong with this report," he told him, putting the paper back down on Sinbad's desk. "If that would be all?"
"No." Sinbad's hand snaked out to catch Ja'far's wrist, holding him in place while he quickly set his signature on the report. "There, I'm done. Aren't I going to get a reward?"
"A reward?" Ja'far raised an eyebrow, "are you a child? This is your work and your responsibility, I don't see why I-"
"I'm not a child, I'm the king," Sinbad cut in, frowning. "And as a king, I am supposed to get whatever I want when the situation allows for it. And right now, I want to be rewarded for my hard work."
Ja'far looked down at the pouting man blankly, hoping his stare would make his king reconsider - if anything. Sinbad knew he didn't play games like this.
But after a minute of silence, Sinbad was still pouting up at him with a hint of hopefulness to his face, and Ja'far's calculations weren't doing themselves in the mean time.
"My king, I still have work to do. Maybe you can ask someone else for your reward."
"Say what?" Sinbad stood up, a teasing smile on his face now. He grabbed Ja'far's other wrist in his free hand and twisted his adviser's body until he stood leaning against the desk. Ja'far merely allowed him, giving him a deadpan look all the time.
"You're not done with work, Ja'far?" He leaned in, teasingly blowing against Ja'far's ear.
Ja'far's breath hitched slightly, but he wasn't about to give in yet. "I still have quite a bit of work left to do, my king. So if you'd be so kind to let me get back to it-"
"So you're saying that you - my hardworking adviser who is always scolding me for being lazy - is not done with his work while I - said lazy king - has already finished up the very last report of the day?"
Ja'far pulled back to give his king a glare. "Obviously you have a lot less work to do." He wriggled back against the desk, trying to avoid Sinbad's hard body as it pressed up against him more and more.
"Even if I have less work, wasn't I supposed to be lazy?" Sinbad drawled. His tongue flicked out to lick a line over Ja'far's cheek, and the pale man flinched. "If you can't even finish your work before your lazy king, what does that make you, hm?"
"I-I-" He squirmed in Sinbad's grip, at a loss for words. This wasn't fair at all. What games was Sinbad playing this time?
"Maybe instead of having you reward me," he whispered into his ear sharply, "I should rather be punishing you, Ja'far. Don't you agree?"
That really shouldn't make his body heat up and his cock twitch just that slightest bit.
Sinbad pressed up against him completely, all hard muscles forcing him back against the edge of the desk. He quickly glanced around to make sure the desk was really empty of important documents - but he doubted he would've been able to save them anyway. One of his wrists was released and strong fingers gripped his jaw, forcing his head back around to face his king.
"Do you have anything to say in your defence, Ja'far? Or will you accept your punishment like a good boy?"
"I-" He swallowed heavily, feeling almost shy about looking into those piercing golden eyes. He knew Sinbad could feel him tremble, and he knew that his pupils had probably already dilated - speaking volumes to his king. But he knew he couldn't relent just yet. Where would the fun be if he did? "I-I didn't do anything w-wrong..."
"You are denying it?" A knee was pressed up between his thighs forcefully, and he gasped for breath in shock. A hard muscled thigh rubbed up against his crotch teasingly, and he had to bite back a moan before he could give Sinbad more material to work with. The fingers on his jaw clenched just a little tighter, and he was pulled upwards until his back arched uncomfortably. Sinbad nearly pressed their lips together, but remained hovering above him just a breath away. "You are quite the naughty one. You don't do you work properly, and then you tell me you didn't do anything wrong? Such an insolent brat."
Ja'far licked his lips nervously, his eyes shooting away from the piercing gold. Sinbad jolted his face forcefully to force him to look back.
"Look at me."
He tentatively looked back, all the heat in those eyes running straight down his body to where a thigh was still rubbing his privates. He knew he was getting too hard too fast for this, and if anything that was the thing he needed to be punished for. This was a disgrace.
But it was so enjoyable.
"Are you going to accept your punishment?"
Ja'far's eyes widened as the thigh between his legs hitched up into crotch. He quickly nodded - obediently - trying to keep in the whimper. He gave in way too easily.
"That's a good boy."
A quick and rough kiss was pressed to his lips before Sinbad drew back, capturing him at his wrists again. Ja'far followed in his momentum in surprise, making it all the easier for Sinbad to flip him around. With one large hand between his shoulders he was pressed down over the desk, his feet slipping slightly at the change in his weight point. Sinbad pressed his middle down with a firm hand, forcing Ja'far to lay down on his stomach, vulnerable to any of Sinbad's whims.
The tall man bend over him, nipping his neck slightly as he pressed his crotch against Ja'far's ass. He could clearly feel the hard cock as it was moulded between the cleft, Sinbad not shy of giving a few suggestive bucks with his hips. He whimpered, his fingers scrabbling at the smooth surface of the desk. Sinbad's body was heavy on top of him and he had trouble breathing - but it didn't last long.
The king rose again, keeping Ja'far down with one hand. The other swiftly caught the lower part of his robes, pulling it up and draping it over Ja'far's back. Ja'far stiffened, aware Sinbad could clearly see just how aroused this whole episode was making him. He was nervous being the exposed. And he was even more nervous with the way Sinbad took a moment to stare at his naked backside, not saying anything, not touching anything.
He squirmed on the desk, lifting his hands to hide his face where it pressed against the hard wood.
"Don't you ever learn, and start wearing something underneath these robes?" A finger trailed over his ass lightly, making Ja'far shudder. It wouldn't be the first time Sinbad took advantage of his lack of underwear, but usually he would scold his king for even being down there during the day. He was more comfortable this way, and unless Sinbad couldn't keep his hands to himself, nobody ever knew.
The problem being, that Sinbad couldn't keep his hands to himself annoyingly often.
"I wouldn't be complaining because of the easy access," Sinbad roughly grabbed an ass cheek, squeezing in none too gently. "But I can't help but worry about someone else enjoying the view one of these days. I told you to dress properly." Ja'far tried to squirm his way out of Sinbad's squeezing hand - unsuccessfully. A thumb pressed to his hole, not really penetrating, but scraping a nail over the sensitive skin as it twitched underneath the touch.
"You should've listened. Now I'll only need to punish you more."
The hand holding him down moved to press on the small of his back, making the edge of the desk dig into Ja'far's abdomen uncomfortably. He could feel Sinbad shift behind him, pulling away to the side. He wondered what he was up to now, but when he decided to lift a hand to peek at his king his answer was answered immediately.
With a loud snapping noise Ja'far jolted on the desk, a surprised cry forcing its way out of his throat. His fingers scrabbled for the edge to hold on to, his ass burning like fire from only that first hit.
Sinbad smoothed his hand over the assaulted patch of skin almost tenderly. "You should count. You can count out your own punishment."
Ja'far gritted his teeth, dropping his forehead to the desk in the hoped that small pain would distract him.
"You will count to ten, starting at one."
Another sharp smack was delivered to his ass, Ja'far's body lurching painfully over the smooth desktop.
"If you don't start counting, it will be a lot more than ten." Sinbad told him, sounding almost playful. "Remember you can only start at one, no matter when you decide to give in and count."
The third smack was delivered to the exact same spot, and Ja'far could feel the skin burning hot. Sinbad wasn't going to hold back at all. And there was plenty power in that arm to rattle Ja'far's teeth every time he swung.
The way his hardening erection was being pressed to the side of the desk was almost as painful as the spanking itself.
A fourth hit and Ja'far whimpered, squirming to relieve the tension on his cock. He was pressed too deeply onto the desk, and he was going to cut off his own manhood if he was going to get any harder against this edge. Sinbad wasn't relenting at all though, keeping him down firmly with one hand while the other softly stroked sore skin, deciding on the next spot to hit.
"S-Sin-!" He squeaked as Sinbad hit at the exact time he tried to address his king. He needed space. He needed- he needed just a little air.
"Now if you would just start counting."
"P-please," he begged, pressing his hips backwards.
He sighed in relief when the hand tightened on his robes, dragging him back a few inches off the desk. His fingers clenched around the edge, his face falling back on the surface.
The next hit forced another cry out of him. The downside of having more space for his erection was that it now had the space to jolt along with his body and smack against his stomach. His ass was on fire beneath Sinbad's searching fingers, no doubt quite the shade of red.
"O-one," he whimpered out, right as he felt the hand tense in preparation of the next slap.
"Good," Sinbad cooed, "now we're getting somewhere."
Another sharp slap had him jolt again, but he managed to bite down on the cry this time before managing a stuttered 'two'.
"You sure like this a lot, don't you?"
Ja'far just groaned at the smack on his tender skin. "Th-threee."
"It's supposed to be punishment though. I don't know why you are getting to excited."
The next one was nasty, somehow sharper than the ones before. Tears jumped into Ja'far's already wet eyes, running down his cheeks as he tried to keep in the sob. Sinbad was just playing with him. It was highly unfair.
"Four!" He squeaked out quickly, before he would miss the number. For all he knew Sinbad would make him start at one again if he did.
But the next one elicited a moan instead of a cry, making Ja'far's face flush dark red in embarrassment. His cock was almost achingly hard from the stark contrast between the vicious slaps and the tender stroking of Sinbad's large hand. He wanted more of the slaps, and he wanted more of the stroking.
He really did deserve some punishment, didn't he?"
"Halfway now." Sinbad took his time finding a new place to hit, his hand smoothing over his burning skin like he was checking a new piece of furniture for a rough spot. He hit him almost unexpectedly, sharp and quick to the bare skin.
Ja'far couldn't keep in the sob this time, and stuttering out the 'six' was definitely on an unstable voice now.
The hand slipped in between the cheeks this time, making Ja'far jolt even without a slap in worry. He wasn't going to hit there, was he? He moaned obnoxiously when a thumb pressed inside, the thick and rough finger burning even the tender skin within his body now. Sinbad pumped the thumb in and out a few times mercilessly - perhaps waiting for some lubrication to magically appear by itself, but he wasn't going to get anything from Ja'far except for cold sweat.
When the thumb was pulled out roughly Ja'far should have seen the smack coming, but after the pause his body only lurched further, his voice ringing out only louder. And the whispered number only became quieter and more wobbly.
"You need to say it louder, Ja'far," Sinbad scolded. "If you don't, I will hit you until you speak up properly."
"Seven," Ja'far gasped out, louder this time. His ass wriggled against Sinbad's hand shamefully, eager for the touch, eager for the burn. Only three more to go. Three to go and this torture was over. He only had three left to enjoy.
He moaned out the count of the next one. His knuckled had gone white where his fingers were holding the edge of the desk too tight, and the wood beneath his face was wet with tears and saliva. He just couldn't control himself anymore.
The ninth slap was a little softer, almost as if Sinbad was taking pity on him. Might be his sobbing that got to the king's usually bleeding heart. Sinbad took pity on people too easily.
"Nine..." He heaved in a breath, attempting to raise his hips towards Sinbad for the last one he was going to receive.
"You definitely enjoy this too much," Sinbad's chuckle was strained, and immediately followed by the last viciously stinging slap. He could feel it reverberate through his entire body, his skin on fire beneath his king's hand. He cried out, gasping for air and sobbing openly now. He wasn't done yet.
Sinbad stepped directly behind him, finally releasing the restraining grip on his back. His thighs were grabbed and spread apart, forcing Ja'far to scrabble for a hold on the smooth desktop when his stiff fingers disconnected from the edge. He cried out when Sinbad unceremoniously spat on his asshole, immediately pressing a finger inside. Ja'far's hips bucked in his king's grip, pressing back on the finger desperately. He was harder than he'd ever been, and he was desperate for release. He needed his king to take him, and allow him to come undone. Even if it was the last thing he'd ever do.
"This is going to hurt," Sinbad warned in a tight voice - redundantly, in Ja'far's opinion, seeing as he already got spanked by the man - and the finger was pulled out quickly. He heard Sinbad spit in his hand and after a slick sound he was impaled roughly on his king's length. He cried out again, nails scraping the surface of the desk as he tried not to bite his tongue off. It had been a while, and Sinbad had never been one to be taken in with ease. His cock was about as large as his ego - or was that the other way around...?
"Sorry," Sinbad at least had the decency to sound truthfully apologetic while pulling out and slamming right back into Ja'far's sore ass. He gasped for breath desperately, the way his king's hips smacked against his burning skin as delicious as the pain it caused inside. He clenched down on Sinbad's cock, whining as it was pulled out again. As if he was going to take it out for good. Not that he would.
"J-Ja'far," Sinbad growled out heatedly, one of his hands once again pressing down on the pale man's back to keep him in place, the other digging fingers into his hip. Ja'far couldn't do much else than drool and moan, bucking his hips back at every thrust of the man's hips, revelling in every slap of skin to skin, every deep penetration of the man's substantial girth. The sounds he was making were simply obscene, but he didn't care. He needed release. He needed his king and he needed to just fall over that edge so he could collapse and try catching his breath again.
He was desperate for a touch.
But he couldn't reach for himself because of the desk being in the way.
"C'mon, Ja'far," Sinbad groaned out, not pausing his frantic movements, "you can finish if you want. Don't you want to finish?"
He wanted nothing more than that.
Sinbad bent down and bit sharply into Ja'far's neck, roughly pulling at his robes to uncover the pale skin. His change in angle finally made him hit that one spot inside of Ja'far, and with a loud cry his body convulsed. With Sinbad's loud panting in his ear and heavy body forcing him down on the hard desk he spilled hotly on the floor, his legs shooting away from underneath his body in the violent spasm. His eyes squeezed shut and he tried to heave for air, but Sinbad was blocking his attempts with his weight.
He could feel Sinbad's muscles ripple on his back, sharp hipbones digging into the sore skin of his ass one last time as his king climaxed, enveloped by his clenching muscles. And if anything, it had been a while for Sinbad too, as Ja'far could feel the sheer amount of the warm fluid following out with the man's cock as he pulled out.
He remained on the desk panting despite his king getting up on wobbly legs, shivering at the feeling of Sinbad's seed slowly running down the inside of his thigh. His ass was still burning like it was on fire after all that, and all his senses were both tingling and dulled out at the same time.
Only after nearly catching his breath he slumped, tense hands relaxing onto the desk, head lolling to the side.
"Are you alright?"
He nodded tiredly, not quite feeling up to responding verbally yet.
Sinbad rounded the desk to crouch at the other side, his hand cradling Ja'far's face in order to make him look at him.
"I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?"
He slowly shook his head, breathing out slowly. "Don't worry... I- I- can handle... this much... Or more..." He dropped his head back to the desk, off Sinbad's hand. "Just give me a moment..."
"You get all the time in the world, Ja'far. I'll just pop out to get something to clean you up, ok? I'll be right back."
"Lock... Lock the damn door," he muttered.
He could practically hear Sinbad smirk. "Of course I will. I'm not going to allow anyone else to see you laying over my desk with a ass spanked red and you know... leaking."
"Get out," he growled, grabbing at a paperweight and flinging it backwards at his king. Sinbad quickly caught the paperweight, but then backed off from his adviser.
"Even though I'm still looking at you, I can't wait to return and find you still lying like that," Sinbad told him smugly, "see you in a bit."
Ja'far hissed until he heard the door smacking shut, relaxing back down on the desk only then.
He looked forlornly at his own desk and the ruined paper with his calculations. It wasn't all that likely he was still going to finish his work today. Not when he wasn't going to be able to sit down at his desk anymore.
Besides, Sinbad's desk was probably going to stare at him until he got rid of the defiled piece of furniture.
And that would be the third desk this year.