Chapter Text
Jakob stood in front of the door that would change his life.
No matter the outcome, once he walks out of that door in less than an hour, nothing would ever be the same again.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, swiping a reverent thumb across the company logo.
He picked up the card from the ground a few years back, when he walked past this very office building. The paper now yellowed and crinkled around the edges, he’s kept it as a good luck charm ever since.
Jakob pocketed his little lucky charm and wiped a sweaty hand down the side of his pants. He turned the door handle, pushing it open before his nerves decided to get the better of him.
The first thing he noticed was the harsh, fluorescent overhead lighting, making the place look more like an interrogation room than an interview room.
Sat behind the wooden desk was a brown-haired man. He wore a pair of gold rimmed old-timey aviator glasses that gleamed distractingly in the harsh light. The pair of eyes that sat behind them, however, were shrouded in shadows cast by his brow ridge, painting him unreadable.
Jakob trailed his eyes down. This man could not be much taller than himself, yet the thick corduroy blazer he wore made his shoulders impossibly broad, until the entire room was filled with his presence.
He approached the man with an outstretched hand. “Good afternoon! My name is Jakob. You must be…” Jakob put on his best corporate voice, brightened by his warmest smile.
“Call me Mr Åhman.” The man’s authoritative voice had a nasally quality to it. His thin upper lip stretched under his lampshade moustache in an approximation of a grin.
Mr Åhman shook his hand. The hand felt really soft – a sign of obsessive moisturising and never having worked a day of manual labour in his life. Although, Jakob supposed, him looking down on that would be the pot calling the kettle black.
Jakob settled onto the uncomfortably hard, flat chair, foot subconsciously tapping onto the carpeted floor. Mr Åhman held a hardcopy print of his resume in his hand, and began the interview proper. Jakob took a deep breath. He accepted the invitation.
Mr Åhman started with the typical softball interview questions – ‘Tell me about yourself.’, ‘What are your strengths and weaknesses?’, ‘How do you handle conflict?’.
Armed with insider knowledge, Jakob weaved what little experience he had under his belt with what he knew of KiA Corp – the company he’s interviewing for as if his life depended on it. Jakob’s done his research. He hoped he’d hit enough key words to pad his experience to appear more substantial. So far so good…
As the questions got harder, Jakob started to stumble. ‘Tell me about your biggest regret in life.’, ‘How would you say your childhood was like?’, ‘Do you consider yourself lucky?’ Dread settled in his gut. Mr Åhman was asking questions barely skirting around the elephant in the room. Jakob nervously hoped he wouldn’t come to that.
He quickly pulled himself together and delivered rehearsed talking points, tripping over words and repeating certain phrases too often along the way. Suppressing his growing anxiety, Jakob tried his best to push on.
He observed Mr Åhman while Mr Åhman scrutinised him right back. The man sat frighteningly still. His fingers clutched the side of the paper until it crinkled. Jakob swore he never saw him blink, not even once. From the way his unblinking gaze never left his upper body, Jakob suspected he'd been listening with his eyes more than his ears. Frustratingly, he still couldn’t get a clear read on his interviewer.
Mr Åhman’s hand suddenly jerked to the right, knocking a stationery holder full of markers onto its side. The abrupt movement made Jakob flinch. Two of the markers rolled slowly off the table – slow enough for him to catch them if he wanted to – and came to a stop near Jakob’s feet.
“Oops!” Mr Åhman tutted. “Could you be a dear and pick them up for me?”
Jakob started panicking. This has to be a test, right? He’s heard nightmarish stories about job interviews from friends and family, including weird little tests the interviewer might do to size you up. No matter how demeaning, Jakob had to ace this one. He scrambled towards the markers on the floor.
His way-too-tall, oversized right shoe caught against a leg of the chair, sending him tumbling unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor to land on his knees. A loud crack of his knee joint bounced off the yellow walls. Frozen in embarrassment, Jakob held his breath and snapped his head up to gauge Mr Åhman’s reaction.
Mr Åhman didn’t seem the slightest bit displeased at his blunder. In fact, his grin revealed even more teeth than before.
Jakob heard air escape through his teeth. Mr Åhman was laughing at him. He was being mocked to his face. Oh no. He's definitely leaving a terrible first impression by being such a clumsy idiot. You stupid, weak, failure of a –
Before he could grab the markers and get back onto his feet, he saw Mr Åhman’s grin disappear like it never existed, quickly replaced by an ambivalent look.
“You’re a big boy, aren’t you Jakob?” He said, so gently it came off as patronising. Jakob could only freeze in place and nod. Here in the workplace, he truly wished to be respected as an adult.
“Then I trust you can take it. I’d like to be completely honest with you.” Mr Åhman pinched the side of his glasses and brought them downwards to focus on scanning through his resume with his bulging eyes.
“Jakob, your GPA is middling at best. Your internships projects are sparse and none of them are exactly relevant to the role. Your work experience is...humble to put it politely. And…”
Mr Åhman bit his lower lip and sucked in a noisy, moist breath – pure, patronising pity.
“...I frankly don't know why you even bothered to apply for this job. I'd be embarrassed, if I were you.
Mr Åhman looked away from the paper and pierced his gaze down at him, his nose sniffing out Jakob's biggest insecurities, digging his manicured nails into where he's most sore.
This interview’s a total disaster!
“I – I’m sorry…” He stifled a cry. Jakob’s breathing quickened in burning shame. He knew from the way Mr Åhman dragged his eyes from side to side on his face, that it was showing on his ears as well. He so desperately wanted to find a way to salvage this, but there was nothing he could possibly say, not when his interviewer thought so poorly of him, he’s willing to rip him to shreds right to his blushing face.
The muffled drag of chair legs against carpet snapped his attention back to Mr Åhman. He stood up and drew himself to his full height, sauntering towards Jakob’s trembling, kneeling self.
“Don’t be. Everyone makes mistakes.” He cooed in faux-sympathy. Mr Åhman stopped to loom over him, and Jakob had to crane his neck to see his face.
“You’ll find that I’m a man of mercy, Jakob. I have another job opening in my department, one that’s more…suited for the likes of you.”
Jakob winced in shock when Mr Åhman leaned forward and grabbed his chin with his thumb and index finger, making him look up. He forcefully tilted his face from side to side in appraisal, searing gaze dragging across every inch of skin.
“You’re still young. You can learn.” Mr Åhman trailed a finger along his smooth jawline and up towards his ear. Heart rabbiting in his chest, Jakob shivered in a mix of apprehension and disgust.
“From the way you act, I can tell you’ve got an incredible attitude. Whether or not you’ve got the work ethic to survive under my department…it remains to be seen.” He drawled. Two fingers dragged through his hair, drawing sparking lines across his scalp, making him tremble.
“I think you have a lot of potential, young man, and I’d happily give you that job – if you’re willing to prove your mettle to me.” Mr Åhman’s praise sent confused flutters up his chest, whiplash from the insults he received earlier. Jakob saw a very pleased grin tug on his lips and gulped. I don’t have a good feeling about this…
“Is there anything I can do, M-Mr Åhman?” Jakob asked delicately, hoping against hope that this won't be the end of the line for him. It came out less dignified than he wished, voice breaking embarrassingly towards the end at Mr Åhman’s name.
“You can suck my cock.”
…
All the blood in his body froze in place. His vision began to swim. Jakob had one chance, one chance to get a foot in the door at KiA Corp, and he had incredible luck of being gatekept by this goddamn creep. He needed to run, run and never look back –
A familiar, disapproving scowl pierced into his brain through his ears. The deep ache in his shoulders flared up yet again, rooting his knees back into the carpet. This is grossly inappropriate …but I can’t fail now. Mr Åhman will probably blacklist me if I refuse to do what he wants. I’ll never get another chance!
Mr Åhman saw him unsubtly eye-ing the door and sat back down onto the chair with an grunt. “The choice is yours, m’boy.” He grinned, parting his thick thighs in invitation.
Jakob refocused his vision, grinding his teeth to steel his resolve. He searched Mr Åhman’s face and saw unbridled desire burning in his eyes. For me ? Nobody’s ever looked at him like that. Somehow…that meant something to him.
Jakob reasoned that he really had no choice. He could turn up his nose and walk away, dignity intact – but his personal and professional life forever marred by this stinging rejection from KiA. Or, he could take the ‘easy’ route and…
He wetted his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. Just one time. Just get the job, and I’ll never have to touch him again. He took a deep breath and shuffled towards Mr Åhman, heart palpitating with unease. The carpet scrubbed his knees through the thin material of his pants.
“ Good boy…” He rumbled low in his chest, running a gentle hand through his hair once Jakob came close enough to settle between his legs, the combination of the touch and sound washed over him, sending warm tingles up his spine. “Ow!” His skull briefly bumped into the underside of the table. When his eyes fell onto the crotch of his pants, he found his fly already teased open. Oh – ! Jakob did not recall hearing a zipping sound.
He glanced up to observe the greying hairs peppering Mr Åhman’s diminishing hairline. This man looked old enough to be his father. The thought made his insides twist.
“Mr Åhman, I've never – you know…” Jakob was ashamed to admit his inexperience extended to acts of intimacy as well.
Mr Åhman raised his eyebrows and tapped a finger on his chin. “If I recall correctly, you described yourself as a fast learner. Were you lying to me, hn?” He sounded like he was simply posing an innocent question, but Jakob felt a dangerous edge just under the surface.
“No, of course not! I promise I'll pick up the skills quickly…” Jakob chewed on his lip and started fussing at Mr Åhman’s belt with shaky hands. He took pity on him and looped them off, tossing it onto the table with a foreboding clatter. Mr Åhman seemed like he’d withdraw his generous offer if Jakob did a poor job. He’d need to give his best effort to prove his worth, right? He nervously swallowed the extra saliva in his mouth.
Once Mr Åhman tugged his dress pants down to his knees, Jakob hesitantly leaned forward to press his lips against his underwear-clad cock, wide eyes glancing at him for approval. Does this feel good…?
“Fuck!” He swore. Mr Åhman tightened the grip on his hair to pull him closer, until his nose was flush against the half-hard bulge. Jakob felt a trill of gratification run up his spine for being able to elicit a reaction out of Mr Åhman’s seemingly unflappable calm. Feeling more confident, he decided to give it a prod of his tongue.
“There you go…” he murmured, encouraging him to continue pressing his tongue against his thickening cock, a dark spot of wet saliva spreading on the fabric. The dull ache in his scalp from the insistent yank of his hair teased a groan out of Jakob’s parted lips.
“How badly do you want my cock?” Mr Åhman panted. Jakob didn't imagine the pulse of hot blood against his lips, right? He felt – he craved to brush them along the bare skin underneath, shivering at the thought of it stiffening to life against the soft skin of his cheek…and his own cock throbbed with forbidden desire between his clothed legs.
Such a shame there was one last barrier standing between him and the buried treasure. “Mhmm…please.” He hummed against the offending fabric.
“Take it off.” Was the order. His hands moved before he could think. Jakob pinched the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down, Mr Åhman lifting his hips helpfully. Warm liquid flooded his mouth at the sight of the older man’s cock, springing out from under the elastic, nice and flushed dark and hard for him. The heady smell of sweat, smoke, and a cologne he’d be able to identify if he put his foggy mind to it assaulted his nostrils.
Tendrils of heat snaked under every inch of his skin. Jakob wasn’t sure if it was shame, or fear, or…something else. Something far more tempestuous to lose himself into.
Now, Jakob wasn’t a total newbie – he’s received a blowjob before. He had a rough idea of how it worked. Trying to appear confident, reached up a hand to circle his fingers around the base of the length and closed in with his lips, stopping just shy of contact to seek Mr Åhman’s permission once again with his eyes.
“Don’t be a tease, boy.” Mr Åhman warned, his excited breaths exhaled in short, audible huffs. Jakob closed the gap with a hot breath of his own, his lips giving a prominent vein by the side a tender first kiss. Wasting no time, he flattened the broadest part of his tongue against the hard surface and dragged it up his cock.
The taste of him flooded Jakob’s senses. It was pleasantly salty, and just underneath was a hint of…something uniquely human, a special taste Jakob carved into his neurons as ‘Mr Åhman’s flavour’.
“Hnghh…” He moaned, and Jakob used it as a trigger to twirl his tongue up a ridge of his cock, right below the head. Jakob liked it when he played with himself there. Hopefully, Mr Åhman felt the same. The throb of the veins above his tongue, the fingers that returned to hair – not pulling, just holding – told him everything he wanted to hear.
Jakob shifted his knees to be closer to one another. He desperately tried to squeeze his hard cock between his thighs for some semblance of pleasure. He briefly considered using his hands, but he didn’t want to distracted from the job. Mr Åhman wouldn't be happy about that.
Jakob continued lavishing sweet attention to the head of his cock, savouring Mr Åhman’s breathy sounds, catching the way his chest shuddered with every particularly firm lick. When he felt a mildly bitter taste spread onto the tip of tongue, he pulled off to admire his work. Mr Åhman’s cock was leaking for him. “Ah…” He let slip an open moan.
“I said suck my cock, not lick it like a kitten. Get to work.” Mr Åhman demanded, and Jakob noticed his left hand clenching the fat of his thigh. Oh no, did I go too slow? Eager to make up for it, he sealed his lips around the salty tip – and promptly froze.
Staring down the barrel of his cock between his eyes, he knew what Mr Åhman wanted…but it looked so intimidating. He’s never done anything like this. Can I – can I really take that?
“I said, get to it!” Mr Åhman snapped. Before Jakob could take the plunge himself, Mr Åhman’s patience frayed under the tightly-wrung surface of his skin. The hand on his hair gripped inescapably tight, the sudden sting drawing a shocked moan out of his stoppered mouth.
The vibrations snapped the last thread of patience. Mr Åhman sharply yanked his hair forward, pulling his face to shove the majority of his cock into his mouth.
“ Ah – ffuck!” Mr Åhman blinked hard and inhaled loudly through the gaps between his teeth, as the smooth, wet cavern of Jakob’s mouth enveloped his searing nerves. “Mind your teeth, boy.” He grinded out. Jakob quickly laid his tongue over his bottom row of teeth, pink tip poking out of his lower lip – but not before giving the skin there a naughty flick.
“Good…good, now – ” His hand pulled his head again, forcing him to take the rest of his length. Jakob’s chest tightened. The intrusion was quickly turning uncomfortable, the hard surface dragging roughly up the back of his tongue, its unceasing journey coming to an end when it barged its way past his soft palate.
“Hhck – !” Jakob gagged. The slick walls of his mouth fluttered deliciously around his cock, and Mr Åhman groaned in revelry. It was so distractingly uncomfortable like this. Mr Åhman was forcing his jaw to open unnaturally wide, filling up every crevice of his mouth, and invading every one of his senses. Dense air was coiled tight in his chest. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to move. It was hard to think –
Jakob felt the tip of his nose brush against coarse hair. He knew he should be moving. He should at least be working his tongue – doing something. But he simply couldn’t. It felt like too much, all at once, incredibly distracting, unable to focus on anything but the mass of thick cock lodged in his face. His hands came up to grip Mr Åhman’s covered shins, tear-clumped lashes fluttering helplessly up at him.
“Aww…relax, my dear boy.” He purred, nails scratching his scalp. “So greedy you're gagging for it. It's alright, I don’t mind taking over for you.”
If his solo technique was inadequate, it's only fair to follow Mr Åhman’s guidance. He knew best after all, and Jakob was not about to let his ego get in the way of his job. He rumbled deep in his throat to accept the offer.
Mr Åhman pulled his head back a bit, allowing a brief window of time for an intake of a sharp breath, before –
He planted his feet and grinded his hips forward on the chair , starting to shallowly thrust his cock in and out of Jakob's slack jaw. If he thought it was overwhelming before, this was on another level. Each drag of his cock against the soft inner surface of his cheeks rubbed against his heartbeat. The hard head of his dick rhythmically plunged in and out of the sensitive rings of his throat. Jakob wasn’t aware there were so many nerve endings in there. Involuntary gags and desperate clenches of the muscle were not only pointedly ignored by Mr Åhman, but thoroughly savoured, loud groans teased out of his lips every time Jakob gagged particularly hard.
Jakob was suddenly so grateful to have Mr Åhman’s grip on his hair to hold him, keeping him from squirming uncontrollably by instinct. The least he could do was to hold himself as still as possible, fight his urge to gag, and take whatever Mr Åhman's willing to give him.
Mr Åhman gave him plenty to work with, alright. “Hahh – oh fuck…that’s it. Be a good boy…take it.” He increased the pace of his thrusts, his cock now penetrating his throat before Jakob could prepare himself for intrusion. The repeated punching of his bruised wall elicited throaty choking noises out of him, reactions unable to be suppressed no matter how hard he tried. He peeled open his half-shut eyes to peer at Mr Åhman again, and this time, there wasn’t even a hint of disapproval written in the wrinkles of his face. Only pure, unbridled glee spilled through the open cavity of his mouth, released as his own high-pitched moans.
“Try – try sucking on it. C’mon…” Mr Åhman panted out a constructive suggestion. Oh, right! Jakob’s seen that move in pornographic films before. He suctioned the remaining air in his mouth down his windpipe to seal his cheeks tighter around the girth of his cock. From the filthy groan that echoed through the room, Mr Åhman loved it.
Speaking of sounds – Jakob felt the warm wetness of his own drool squeezed out of his swollen lips, sliding against Mr Åhman’s cock to produce absolutely depraved wet noises. Accompanied by his own little choked whines and gasps for air, Jakob felt scorching mortification at the kind of sounds he was apparently capable of producing – all for Mr Åhman to inhale with his sniffy nose.
The four yellowed walls of the interview room dizzyingly morphed and reduced to three – the funneled expanse of Mr Åhman’s pale, bare thighs, and the looming presence of the table crowding behind him, pinning him in place.
Fortunately, Jakob did not eat lunch before the interview, because his nerves refused to settle and accept any food. He was so damn lucky to have arrived on an empty stomach, because the only thing he could imagine cramming down his throat right now was more of Mr Åhman’s cock. More…moremore more please –
Mr Åhman very abruptly ceased his movements and yanked his hair hard, until his face was squashed flush against his stomach, his cock violating the deepest possible depths of his throat. Jakob let out a choked grunt from the sharp and dull pain, all crashing into him at once.
“Ahh – yes! Good boy. So pretty around me… fuck! ” Jakob could tell from the tension in his voice, and the way his cock kicked on his tongue, that Mr Åhman was coming. In his mouth. While calling him pretty.
Jakob felt the spurts of hot, thick come hit the back of his throat. The twitching cockhead was shoved so deep, he couldn’t even taste him.
“Swallow it.” Mr Åhman’s voice boomed across both eardrums. Jakob suppressed a disappointed groan and a shuddering gag simultaneously as the fluid slid filthily down his pipe. He literally could not pull off spit it out if he wanted to. Squeezing the wetness out of his eyes, he forced his internal muscles to carry out peristalsis, before the come went down the wrong hole and made things a lot more uncomfortable for him.
Mr Åhman moaned at the sensation of his throat spasming around his cock to cradle it through his orgasm. The sweet, filthy nothings he whispered so low, Jakob couldn’t hear them over the thumping of his heartbeat in his ears.
Jakob was feeling dizzy. Really, really dizzy – the type of dizziness that, instead of floating his head to rest gently against the ceiling, it pulled him down to sink his cheek into the fibres of the carpet. Jakob found that he didn’t mind. It only amplified the syrupy warmth in his gut to greater heights. And in that moment, that feeling’s all that mattered.
The sudden removal of Mr Åhman’s cock out of his oral cavity left him raw, coldly empty, and dripping – thickness still cloying at the back of his throat, jaw aching, knees already done memorising the texture of the carpet.
“Hhah – !” His lungs cried in relief when heaving gasps of the cool air-conditioned air provided them with the oxygen they craved, but Jakob knew the ache in his chest was unlikely to fade anytime soon, not when Mr Åhman was looking at him like this.
Through blurry tears, Jakob saw Mr Åhman in a relaxed lean against the chair. A red flush bloomed high on his cheeks. His glasses, endearingly askew. A stray brown strand of his combed-over hair escaped to stick onto his forehead. As he pulled up his pants and tucked himself back in, his mouth was slightly parted to reveal a silver of pink tongue, piercing eyes never once leaving Jakob.
The remaining strands of his sane mind knew, he’d just been utterly used, violated…
…then why in the world did it burn so sweet? This was absolutely nothing like the cold judgement Jakob was subjected to his entire life. No, the feeling in his gut that rose up his spine tingled with so much saccharine warmth. The way Mr Åhman raked his gaze down the length of his full-clothed body in approval, and the slight tremble of the clench of his fingers into the fabric of his pants all betrayed his pleasure. Jakob wanted more . He wanted to satisfy Mr Åhman to no end.
Anticipating just what he needed, Mr Åhman’s hand carded through his hair, massaging the soreness in his scalp. Jakob leaned into the comfort, sighing, eyelids fluttering to a close.
“If you want to work under me, there’s some rules you must follow.” Mr Åhman began gently. He’s giving me rules, now? That means I’m hired, right? He dragged a finger down his cheek, to lay up the middle of both his swollen lips.
“Rule number one – don’t tell anyone.”
Jakob nodded, but Mr Åhman wasn’t done talking. “It’s a dog-eat-dog place, the corporate world.” He explained. “If the other employees find out about this, they’ll get jealous and think you’re getting special treatment from me. Which is not true, of course. You did so well, darling.”
That confirmed it. Jakob's successfully proved himself to Mr Åhman. Exceeded expectations, daresay. I got the job! Ohmygoodness I’m not that inept, I did well! I’m gonna – flutters of joyous tingles exploded in his chest, and a wide smile spread across his lips.
Mr Åhman trailed his fingers down to grip his chin and pushed up to clamp his loose mouth shut. “You wouldn’t want to get both of us in trouble, would you?” Jakob shook his head.
“Very good.” Mr Åhman said. “Now, about your father –”
Jakob’s heart plunged down his chest and onto the carpet. Mr Åhman’s finally colliding head-first with the elephant in the room. His eyebrows cinched in nervous anticipation.
“ – I couldn't give less of a shit!” He laughed. Jakob's shoulders dropped in relief. “I wouldn't offer you a job just because of him, that'd be ridiculous! I am a strong proponent of meritocracy…”
Mr Åhman stood up, until his face completely eclipsed the light, a golden halo tracing the outlines of his hair, casting a shadow onto Jakob's entire body. He reached out a gracious hand.
“...and you deserve to have the position. Not because of your father, it’s all you .”
Jakob took his soft hand into his, and the strong arm coiled to help him get back onto his shaky feet. His stiff knees cracked again from the sudden movement – but now, it was a point of pride.
Finally upright, blood rushed back into his stiff legs, and Jakob felt so wonderfully light headed. Standing face to face for the first time, Jakob realised he was slightly taller than Mr Åhman, but Mr Åhman’s never looked larger than life.
To not only get a job here, but to do so by his own merit – it was a dream come true. Everything he's ever wished for, fed to him on the palm of this strange, but generous man. Jakob needed to show his gratitude. He bowed his head to feed.
“Thank you so much!” Jakob sobbed, his voice completely ruined. “T-Thank you for giving me a chance, Mr Åhman. It means a lot that you – you think I deserve it. I won't disappoint you, I promise!”
“We’ll see about that, dear.” Mr Åhman's chuckle rumbled in his chest. He placed a heavy hand into Jakob’s right shoulder, causing him to pause his efforts to tuck his shirt back into his pants and look up to meet his gaze once more.
“I’ll email you the details later. Think you can start as soon as next week?” Mr Åhman grinned, and his row of long upper teeth gleamed a fluorescent pale yellow. Jakob nodded in response, sorely feeling the ache in the bones of his neck. The hand on his shoulder gave him a firm pat.
“See you at work.”
That felt like a full stop concluding the previous paragraph of Jakob’s life, and a 5-spaced indentation starting the next.
“See you too, Mr Åhman!” Jakob smiled back. He turned around to walk towards the door. But Mr Åhman could not stop himself from giving in to the temptation. He needed one last kiss goodbye.
He smacked Jakob’s ass.
“Agh!” Jakob yelped and stumbled gracelessly. His hand grabbed at the edge of the table for purchase. The smack burned a hole the shape of Mr Åhman’s hand into the back of his pants, through the supple flesh, going right out of his front. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but the impact of Mr Åhman’s palm slapped a pulsing throb up his already stiff cock.
Jakob’s seizing heart could only take so much excitement over one 40-minute job interview. Turning tail, he made his hasty escape through the door.
Axel started shaking, his vest barely containing his nervous excitement.
I can't believe that worked!
Axel was many things, and a fool wasn't one of them. The boy was the direct kin of a man held in incredibly high regard within KiA Corp. That alone meant he was going to get a job here, regardless of his father’s meddling, and regardless of the boy’s own credentials.
It was simply a question of where – or rather, under whom.
Axel knew office politics at the back of his hands. He even authored a chunk of it, and goddamnit, he deserves more credit.
He'd played his cards right, buttered up to the correct people, and successfully slithered his way into this very interview room. He did a good job with Jakob too; reading the room, preening and pinching the boy in just the right places to melt him into beautiful surrender – until he swallowed his come and thanked him for allowing it.
Although, Jakob made that really easy for him. Shockingly easy. He was not kidding when he lavished the kid with compliments about his potential. Taking his cock like a fish to water – what a fucking natural. Axel chuckled to himself. He deserved some sort of employee of the month award for what a clever job he's done.
Right now, as Jakob makes his way through the endless corridors of the building, all of KiA will know. They can tell from the red of his lips and the mess of his hair that the company’s prospective golden boy had been marked as his – Axel Åhman's – and only his. They'll roll their eyes at the sight of Jakob shuffling his way out of the main door, shyly dipping his head and trying to hide his shameful erection.
But no one will stop to warn him. No one could be bothered to lift a finger off of their dreary desks and actually ask the boy if he knows what he's getting himself into. Because everyone, despite their plastered smiles, just wants to go home at the end of the working day. If that meant ignoring Jakob’s plight for the reward of staying out of Axel’s warpath – so be it. Tonight, he’s going to type up a special little contract. Jakob will happily sign it, sealing the deal, claiming him as mine.
Axel thought the dirty looks people’ll be throwing at him for the foreseeable future were well worth the price of entry.
After all, Rome wasn't built in a day – and neither was the perfect personal-use office boy toy. Axel was going to thoroughly enjoy the employee training process.