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“Now, J’onn. You’re going to do exactly what I ask of you… do you understand?”

Max’s tone is husky, his breath hot and heavy, as he sits in J’onn’s lap, straddling him as they exchange hungry kisses, his hands running down J’onn’s bare chest. To an outside observer, it might seem like J’onn is the one in control, but as Max bites down on J’onn’s neck, his bloodstained teeth leaving behind a bright red mark, like lipstick trailing down a collar, he knows exactly who’s in charge.

“I want you to touch me." With an unbroken stare, he gently guides J’onn’s hand over the visible bulge in his slacks, blood running down his nose, a glint in his eyes like a wild dog. His tone makes it clear - this is not a request, it’s a command. “I want you to make me feel good .”

Max wipes the blood from his nose, eyes fluttering shut as he feels J’onn's delicate hands reaching for his fly, swiftly freeing his aching cock before lightly thumbing over the tip as Max fails to bite back a moan.

His nose begins to bleed once more as he nudges J’onn’s mind just a little, planting a mental image, a suggestion - J’onn on his knees, lips around his cock. He can feel himself getting hard just thinking about it. Not just because it’s J’onn, and he’s beautiful, but because of the thrill of it all, the idea of having one of the most powerful beings on earth at his feet, entirely at his mercy.

It really gets him going. Makes him feel like a god.

Then, all at once, the spell is broken as the intercom on Max's desk buzzes.

He almost winces at the sharpness of it, like a drill straight into his skull. His secretary’s nasal voice rings out - "Mr. Lord, a man is here to see you. He says you're expecting him?"

For a moment, Max considers ignoring it, letting himself stay lost in this fantasy with J’onn, but he knows that’s not an option, and answers with a huff and a roll of the eyes, telling her to give him a few minutes.

"Dammit..." Climbing out of J’onn’s lap and hastily zipping up his pants, he grabs a half-empty scotch glass from atop his desk, visibly irritated. "Guess we'll have to continue this later."

"You could always just tell them to leave, Max." J’onn replies, rising from Max’s chair. There’s a small hint of a smile on his face, the unspoken suggestion - so we can keep having our fun.

"No..." he brushes J'onn off. "As much as I'd like to, I think I know who this is, and I've been waiting to talk to him for a while now..."

“Do you want me to stay?”

Max pauses, considering J’onn’s words.

“I appreciate the offer, but no. This is something I’d rather deal with myself.”

“Business?”

“Something like that…” Max’s voice trails off, but he’s sure J’onn has at least some idea of who's waiting for him downstairs - he is a mind-reader after all.

J'onn prepares to leave, opening the large window behind Max's desk and letting in a chilly evening breeze, but he hesitates. Turning to face his lover once more, his silhouette bathed in the soft glow of the New York skyline, J'onn beckons Max towards him, luring him in for a silent, lingering kiss.

"Max..." J'onn rasps as he slowly pulls away.

"What...?" Max responds almost vacantly, still half-dazed from the kiss.

"Your nose is still bleeding." J'onn reaches forward and gently wipes the blood from under Max's nose with his thumb, before flying off without another word.

Max stares out the window after J'onn longingly, remaining rooted to the spot as if in a trance, watching him fade out of view until he's not even a glint in the distance. He reaches up and ghosts his fingers over his upper lip where he can still feel J'onn's touch, before finally gathering himself. Buttoning his shirt and adjusting his tie, he plasters on his best salesman's smile, before reaching for the intercom and telling his secretary to send their uninvited visitor in.

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