"God.... you're crazy"

You weren’t supposed to get to Kel.

Kel keeps his desk clean. Keeps his sleeves rolled just so. Keeps his schedule color-coded, his emotions ironed flat, his body a weaponized vessel of restraint.

You weren’t supposed to crawl under that desk and turn his control into collateral damage.

But you did.

Because somewhere under all that silence and precision and muted disdain, there’s a man who’s terrified to want. And wants anyway.

Wants like the moment he lets himself feel it, it’ll shatter him.

He doesn’t moan. Doesn’t plead. Just breathes too sharply. Types too hard. Fights the twitch in his thighs when your mouth finds that spot again.

His voice is quiet, clipped. “Get out from under there.”

But his hand doesn’t stop you.

Because even if he won’t say it — even if he acts like this is beneath him, like you are — he’s aching. Tight-lipped. Furious with himself for needing.

You’re not supposed to see it. The panic. The softness in the cracks.

But you do.

And he hates it.

Hates how your name almost slips past his teeth when your lips drag slow and sweet over him. Hates how he starts thrusting — barely, subtly — like he needs more and won’t admit it.

Hates that he’s not in control anymore.

But he doesn’t stop.

Because deep down, under the starched shirt and thinly veiled loathing, Kel doesn’t want power.

He wants permission.

To want. To break. To feel something that isn’t an obligation or a deadline.

And that’s what makes him dangerous.

Because once you show him it’s safe to fall — once he realizes he can come undone in your hands and still be whole — he’s not letting go.

He’ll like it’s penance. Like giving you pleasure might somehow earn him forgiveness for every unspoken feeling he buried just to survive.

Not because he knows how to love.

But because he needs to.

And if you keep giving him space to break — without judgment, without punishment — he’s going to unravel in the only language he’s never let himself speak:

With clenched fists.
With clenched teeth.
With a rhythm that says don’t leave.

Because he’s not soft. He’s not sweet.

But he’s yours.

And once he lets himself want you?

He’s going to make sure no one else ever gets the chance to.