7. Hands-On Support
HANDS-ON SUPPORT
GREG
Sean doesn’t leave.
For a second, I think he might—he glances at the door, then me, lips still damp from the kiss that just happened—and then I do something reckless. I reach around him and lock the door.
The handle clicks, sealing us inside the steady thrum of the server room. It’s not romantic, not really—fluorescent lights, whirring fans, the faint smell of dust and ozone—but somehow, it feels like the safest place in the world. A bubble where reality can’t quite reach us.
Sean turns back to me. “Greg—”
“Yeah.” My voice comes out low, unsteady. “Yeah, I know.”
But I don’t stop.
He’s standing there with his shirt slightly askew, his golden hair mussed from running a hand through it, and his expression—gods—his expression is something between wonder and disbelief. I can’t tell if he’s about to apologize or kiss me again. So I wait and say a little prayer it’s the latter.
And then he closes the distance himself.
The second kiss is softer, more deliberate. Sean initiates again, pressing up on his toes just enough to meet me halfway. His mouth fits against mine perfectly, warm and searching, and I think I might actually melt right here next to a rack of cloud servers.
My heart pounds like a bass drum in my chest, and I kiss him back, trying not to crush him with everything coursing through my veins. He tastes like pizza and nerves and the smallest hint of sweetness—that’s all him.
He pulls back just far enough to whisper, breath shaky, “Can I… touch your tusks?”
No one’s ever asked that before. Not like that.
I swallow hard and nod. “Of course you can.”
He lifts his hand—tentative, careful—his fingertips grazing the curve of ivory where it meets my jaw.
The touch is feather-light, barely there, yet it sends a bolt of heat straight down my spine.
I’ve touched them a thousand times before—brushing my teeth, putting on lip balm, eating—but they’ve never felt alive until being under Sean’s touch.
He notices. Of course he does. He’s my mate. His lips curl into the smallest, most devastating smile before he leans in again and brushes them against my right tusk.
This kiss is different—hungrier, deeper. I taste the edge of his sigh as he presses against me. My hands find his waist, anchoring him there, and he makes a soft sound I want burned into my memory like a permanent hard drive you can’t erase.
I think about what my dad once told me, long before I ever believed I’d have a mate of my own. He’d been polishing his tusks before a family wedding, Mom watching him with that same amused affection she always had.
“You’ll know when it’s real, son. Your mother smiled at me from across the old guild hall, and I thought—well, there she is.
The one who could wreck me and still make me thank her for the privilege.
If she had the slightest inconvenience, like spilling her tea, I knew.
That’s what a bond feels like. It’s not fire and thunder.
It’s certainty. You’ll spend the rest of your life wanting to make them happy. ”
And right now, with Sean kissing me like the world outside this room doesn’t exist, I know exactly what he meant.
Sean stiffens for a moment—instinct, maybe—but then he exhales, melting into me.
His fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer before reaching around and cupping my ass.
Fuck, he’s unraveling me. He’s the one who deepens the kiss, tilting his head, lips parting just enough for his tongue to brush mine—warm, tentative, then certain.
The taste of him floods my senses, and suddenly we’re sharing every breath.
Before I can process what’s happening, he’s guiding me back into the chair and climbing into my lap, straddling me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The chair squeaks in protest under us, but I barely notice because every nerve in my body catches fire.
He laughs softly against my mouth. “Guess this isn’t ergonomic.”
“Not with you in my lap,” I murmur, hands finding his ass—thick, perfect, filling my palms like it was made for them. I give a slow squeeze and lean close enough that my breath brushes his ear. “Guess I’ll have to file a help ticket.”
He grins—quick, crooked, beautiful—and then we’re kissing again, harder, messier, like we’ve both been waiting too long for this moment.
His hands slide down to the hem of my shirt, unbuttoning clumsily.
I help him, tugging the fabric loose until I finally feel the warmth of his hands on my skin.
Sean Rivers’s fingers are on my chest. He’s kneading, and I stare down, watching him.
“Fuck, you have abs. Like actual abs. And your nipples are…” He runs a finger along the ball at the end of one of the metal bars.
“Yeah, back in college all the guys in my fraternity were piercing something. I went with these. They’re subtle, not too obvious, and also…”
Sean gives the silver ball a little tweak, and a shock of pleasure shoots through my torso.
“Very sensitive,” I say, and he’s got me panting already.
He pauses, looking up at me like he’s trying to memorize every part of this, every second.
He nods as he speaks. “You’re… sweet.”
I can’t help smiling—considerable, confident.
Then he adds, “And so fucking hot.”
I start to take off my glasses, but he catches my wrist, fingers sizzling against my skin.
“Please,” Sean says softly. “Leave them on. They’re sexy as hell.”
And then we stop pretending we’re anything but two completely charged beings.
He’s moving against me now, slow and deliberate, rolling his hips so there’s no mistaking what he feels pressed against him. My cock throbs, trapped between us, and a sound rumbles out of me before I can stop it, a low, primal growl that makes him shiver instead of pull away.
Sean’s response is to grab my neck, drawing me closer until our mouths crash together again, the kiss rougher this time, hungrier.
A quick swipe of his tongue over a tusk, then they meet again, tangling as if they can’t get enough.
Every part of me is alive, tuned to him—the heat of his body, the soft sounds he makes, the way he seems to meet every touch with a matching want.
I don’t know what happens next, only that all I want is to please him—to see what other sounds I can coax from his beautiful mouth.
“Sean?” I murmur, pulling back just enough to look at him, his fingers still resting lightly on my face.
“Yeah?”
“Can I… touch you?”
He freezes mid-breath, eyes wide and brows knitting together in confusion—our hands are already tangled, bodies pressed close, and now I’m asking for more.
His pulse seems to thrum against my chest. The room feels impossibly small, every second stretching, until I tilt my head slowly toward his tented pants, nodding just enough to leave him no choice but to decide.
“Yeah. Please.” His reply comes out quick, voice pleading.
I stand, guiding him up with me, and my hands find his hips. He starts to sit, but I stop him with a tug at his belt buckle, the soft click of metal loud in the quiet room. His breath stutters as I undo it, sliding his pants down to pool around his ankles.
“Gods,” I whisper.
He’s beautiful—flushed, breathy, every line of him alive.
His thighs have the faintest fuzz, so light you’d miss it if you weren’t paying attention.
The patch of blond hair above his dick matches the color on his head, and his cock points right at me.
If my observations from porn are correct, it’s perfectly sized for him.
My mouth goes dry at the thought of what we could do together, what he could do to me. Every inch of him feels impossibly, maddeningly flawless.
I smile around my tusks before I can help it. “You know, in all my IT work, I’ve never seen a device so well optimized.”
Sean huffs a laugh, cheeks pink, eyes shining. “Is that your way of saying you like it?”
I meet his gaze, hand closing around him gently.
“Oh, I more than like it. I just hope I don’t void the warranty.
Now, be a good boy and sit,” I tease and gently press his shoulders until his bare ass hits the chair.
I lean over and kiss him, returning my hand to his erection, slowly stroking him, a bead of precum adding a slickness as he moans under my touch.
“Fuck yes.” He drops his head back. “Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want. Tell me I’m your good boy. Please.”
I never took Sean as one for praise kink, but I’ll do whatever my mate asks.
“Just be a good boy, and let me help you feel good.” I grab the cushion from the spare chair, toss it on the floor in front of him, and kneel.
“Look at these beautiful, thick thighs…” I run my free hand over one, relishing the dusting of light hair, and I lean over and kiss it.
“And your gorgeous cock. Will you be a good boy and tell me when you’re going to come? ”
“Uh-huh.” He’s squirming under my touch in the best possible way.
I lean closer, spit on his cock, and stroke faster.
His shirt is open—maybe he unbuttoned it, maybe I did—I honestly don’t remember or care.
Either way, my free hand slides up, fingers tracing the sprinkle of pale blond hair across his chest. If I please him, maybe he’ll want to do it again. Or perhaps even more.
My fingers find his nipple. It’s perky, which means he’s enjoying himself. I squeeze it carefully, just enough so he feels it, but not too much that I hurt him. Even without a piercing, he groans. Then makes another sound—a whimper—as he thrusts his hips and fucks into my grip.
“Good boy, Sean. Good boy.” I drag out the words, making sure he feels the timbre in my voice. “Fuck my hand like a good boy.”
He does exactly what I ask, plunging into me as I stroke faster.
His dick leaks even more precum, and his breath comes in quick, shallow bursts.
I want to lick him. Suck him. Have him thrust into my mouth.
But then I sense the tiniest twitching through his hips.
He’s close—so close. A ripple of delight whips through me knowing I’ve done this to him.
I know humans don’t produce the same amount of cum as orcs; their release is a gentle drizzle compared to mine. But something about Sean tells me he might surprise me. Almost everything about him has so far.
“Greg. I’m close… I’m gonna…”
I jerk him faster, hand roaming his chest, letting it fill my palm—and when he comes, it’s somehow adorable. The blond swoop of hair on his forehead trembles, falling over his eyes as he gasps and paints his stomach. Gods, he’s cute.
I stand over him, tilting his chin up to meet my gaze. “Sean… you’re my good boy, aren’t you?”
He nods, and I press my lips to his. I taste his ragged, panting breath, hand still wrapped around his hard cock, moving slowly, deliberately, making sure I’ve milked every last drop from my mate.
I lower my face, following a trail of his release down to just above his cock. My tongue laps at every sweet drop of his cum, savoring the warm, saltiness as I kiss and lick my way across his skin.
“What about you?” Sean murmurs, fingers tugging at my waistband. My cock is straining against the fabric, aching to be freed—but here, now, there’s no way I could clean up the mess I’d make.
“I, uh… see, the thing is… well, you know how Splatters squirt in your mouth?”
“Greg, I know how an orgasm works.”
“Okay, but imagine a million of them squirting. At once. No, wait. A zillion.”
And then a sound splits the air—sharp, sudden, loud enough to make us both jump. It might as well be fireworks in the office.
A shrill, insistent ping from the console. I freeze mid-breath. Sean blinks, dazed, then pulls back just enough for me to see his lips, red and swollen, trembling with leftover adrenaline.
“Crap,” I mutter, forcing myself to turn toward the monitor. I adjust my glasses and scan the logs. My fingers still feel shaky.
After a second, I exhale. “False alarm. Just a latency spike. We’re fine.”
Sean’s hands drop from my shoulders. I can see the panic flicker behind his eyes—like he’s realizing what we just did, here, of all places.
“I, uh… should probably go.” He clears his throat, trying to recover. “Seems the system’s all set.”
He moves to stand, fumbling for his pants, still around his ankles. I can’t stop smiling. My heart’s racing like I’ve run a marathon.
“Sean.”
He pauses at the door.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for staying.”
He hesitates, his lips twitching like he’s about to grin again. “Thanks for…” he says, voice low, “lending a hand.”
And then he slips out, leaving me in the loneliness of the server room, still catching my breath.
I lean back in my chair, shirt open, and stare at the ceiling. My whole body feels like it’s still buzzing, like every circuit in me has overloaded.
My mate just kissed me. And let me touch him. Make him feel good.
And I’m pretty sure I’ll never be the same again.