Author's Note: This was written for the goldenpair community's second annual Fic for a Pic contest. And…this was supposed to be just a fluffy fic, and instead, we got smut. Funny how that works…nekkid Eiji and barely-clothed Oishi don't inspire smut but full-clothes suits do…

Rules and Regulations

There is a spot just below Oishi's collarbone that just begs to be licked. I don't know why it does, but it just does. I can't understand why everyone who ever sees it can resist the urge to just…taste, right there. Even if he fights me every step of the way when I move to loosen his tie, I just can't resist it when he begs like that.

Or maybe it's not the way it looks. Maybe it's not even the way it tastes. Maybe it's the way he reacts when I flick my tongue over that little hollow of exposed flesh, tasting him, teasing him. Maybe it's that quick intake of breath, the way it shudders out of him, the faint, almost toneless murmur of pleasure that he can never quite silence that makes it impossible for me to resist that spot time and time again.

The shadows of the blinds on the windows make lines of light fall over us as I nibble my way up the side of his neck, along the line of his jaw, up behind his ear and over the shell of it, capturing it with my teeth, whispering into it as he shivers under my hands. "I can't get enough of you."

Without saying a word, Oishi slinks a hand around the small of my back and pulls me forward into his lap, forcing my gaze around so that he can kiss me like there will never be another, like he's devouring me whole. I press up against him, kissing him back with everything I have, the heat making my mind swim and my breath come up short. I steal it back from him, breathing him in even as he does with me, and even so I'm still breathless and have to wrap my arms around his neck to keep from falling.

The words, "You're irresistible" tickle my ear and I almost laugh. Only Oishi would use words like that in a moment like this and it's just so him that it's hilarious and adorable at the same time. I nestle in closer, letting my hands run down his back and then up and under, around to the front, tracing a path beneath his jacket and up over the thin front of his shirt where I can feel his heart fluttering rapidly and erratically like a bird's beneath my palms. I can feel everything right now, the pulse as he breaths in and out, the calluses on his lips as he brushes them over my cheek, the ridges of his nails as he takes my hand and brings it to his lips. The dewy warmth as he closes them over my fingers drives me wild. The moan stays trapped in my throat out of instinct, but all my muscles go weak and I can't stop shaking with need. I wonder if my fingers beg him the way that spot begs me, but then Oishi is circling his tongue over my finger so slowly that I can't keep silent this time and I can't think of anything any more except how much I need him, now, now, now…

Oishi shifts beneath me, the hard length along his leg pressing against my thigh like an invitation. He'd probably hate me if I ruined the crease in his trousers, but it's too late to worry about things like that now, with my hand pressing firmly against the seam of them, rubbing my way up and down slowly, slowly, debating what to do next. This time the groan is louder, almost too loud for the setting, and Oishi grabs at my arm frantically. "Eiji, we're…"

I ask him which he would prefer, a little bit of clean-up now or risking someone else seeing him in such a state, and as I slide one finger through the gap between the buttons of his fly, his protests dry up. We tumble to the floor as he all but rolls on top of me, and even as the carpet cushions our fall, my head cracks against it almost painfully as he presses his lips to mine again, panting, biting, desperate, unyielding, unable to hold back any longer. The flesh at his throat winks at me in a brief white flash where his shirt is still open and the end of his tie brushes over my chest and oh god I'm so ready, I want him so much, that even though all of my clothes I can feel it like an electric caress. One leg wraps over his, pushing my hips up to him, the press of our bodies making me strain to hold back even then. Oishi slides his body between my legs, rubbing, stoking, reaching, pulling at the hem of my pants desperately, and I lift my hips slightly higher to make it easier for him, every nerve afire, every breath searing my lungs, every brush of his fingers bringing me closer and closer to…

A knock at the door. At first I think I imagine it, but when the second one comes, Oishi pulls back suddenly and looks at the door with a panicked hiss. "The interviewers!"

The next few seconds are a haze of scrambling bodies and flying clothes, though not in the way we both hoped. I yank my pants back up, tucking the tails of my shirt up under my vest instead to save time while Oishi curses as he tries to find the sleeves of his jacket as he slips it back on while trying to straighten his shirt and trousers again. When the door starts to open, we both hurriedly pick up our fallen chairs and drop into them, legs crossing simultaneously in that same synchronicity we haven't lost over the years, and leaning back nonchalantly. Oishi still smells maddeningly of sweat and want, and I can hear him panting quietly. I can barely seem to breathe myself.

The receptionist looks at us as she steps through the door with faint suspicion, and opens her mouth, no doubt to spout out a reminder about rules and regulations to be followed in this office. It's harder to catch my breath than I thought. At last, though, I can speak, snapping with frustration that I hope she will mistake for impatience. "What took you so long?"

Oishi looks away in embarrassment and a small sound of exasperation escapes his lips. As he turns, I can see that small hollow where his open collar leaves it exposed. While the receptionist offers her testy apologies and leaves to bring the others in, I hope that the interview doesn't take too long.

I can't resist it when he begs like that.