Power Play [BxBxB]

1| Met

Met had probably a thousand files to go through and maybe a bit over a million letters to approve. Apart from the billion reports he had to read.

He was glad it was all he knew how to do, well that and a few other things.
But not tonight. For there was a very disturbing image in his head. An image planted by the only person who could.

Jade had sent him a picture of himself, a picture that suggested he leave everything he was doing and go attend to the little minx. He looked so wanton in the picture, so sexy. All Met had to do was look into his eyes, the lust, the want, the desire. And that had been his undoing. A single picture threatening the entirety of his unyielding self control.

He wouldn't be responsible if he did anything rash right now.
And so considering all this, he had probably only five papers to sign and he'd be on his way.

He adjusted his tie as he signed the papers, calmly harbouring an erection the size of North America.

                   __________________

There weren't many things that could distract the great Met Lancet from his work and his company.
The successful Met Enterprises needed it's boss twenty-four-seven and it was that thinking that had got him to the top. At this time, betrayals and backstabbers were all behind him and work became his lifeline, his distraction and plausibly a drug.

It didn't mean he was a shitty boss or anything of the sort, he just asked for work to be done and efficiently. That was all.
People who couldn't follow this one simple guideline often found themselves escorted or not, to the exit.

His world turned on its axis the night he met Jade.

There Met sat, totally out of his element. Nights like these when he came to the bar, he always thought he knew what he was looking for. A one night stand, maybe a decent guy—no one made his heart flare anymore, or even just amazing sex.

All these were lies formulated in his mind. Because at the end of the night, he always left alone. One could think he always had his fill of men but that wasn't the case. No one cut it for him.

He'd seen the disappointment flash across the faces of countless bartenders, and people he'd bought drinks for when he coldly left them. Even after flirting and leading them on.

Whatever it was, he was searching for it in the wrong place and he knew it. Still, he kept looking.

The bartender that night had looked decent, in fact, very decent. Met thought that finally, finally he was going to take someone home.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask for the guy's name when the corner of  his eye caught something—a flurry of clothes, a flutter of hair—someone.

The someone sat two stools away from him. What grace, what poise! Met observed. He was sort of tall and looked like the kind of guy he would love to hold down and fuck through to tomorrow.

Seconds later, bartender forgotten, he had already settled on the stool nearest to the guy. "Hey there," he said and the guy finally looked at him. Everything about him resonated with Met. "Let me buy you a drink."
God how cliche he sounded.

The young man didn't smile, he only gave Met a once over and did the boldest thing a stranger had ever done to him. He cupped Met's chin and stared him down.
How he did it with Met being taller and bigger, no one could know.

"No," he said as his thumb traced Met's lower lip. "I like people who get to the point. What do you want?"

Met couldn't speak as the guy touched his face. There was too much desire coursing through his veins.