Jon should start wearing a packer to work and Elias should notice. Corner Jon that afternoon, maybe give him a little grope. Feel the bulge of his fake cock. And Jon should gasp and get flustered. And Elias should compliment him on his cock <3
Wrote some post-phalloplasty groping <3 it’s not even Remotely polished but I hope you enjoy regardless. Warning for Elias groping his employee/affair partner without asking for permission.
Elias corners him in the stairwell, about halfway between the first and second floors, the very same day that Jon had returned to work. Really, Jon should’ve expected this. The only truly surprising thing is that Elias waited so long.
He’s smiling, standing far closer than propriety would allow, and gazing at Jon with an undisguised fondness. “Welcome back, Jon. You’re recovering well, I hope?” The words are a low, warm murmur, and Jon sways ever-so-slightly towards Elias.
“I… yes. I’m doing quite well, thank you.” His own voice is slightly breathy, scratchy. He’s very, very aware of the scant few inches between them, the puff of Elias’ breath on his face, how very, very long it’s been since they’ve seen each other. He stares, licks his lips.
Elias’ eyes drop, unsubtle and heavy, resting in the slight bulge in his pants. Jon tries to resist the urge to cover it with his hands. A ridiculous instinct, really. Elias has seen- well. Jon’s penis is maybe the only thing he hasn’t seen (something that’s likely to change within the week, or perhaps even the hour, judging by the hunger in Elias’ gaze).
The silence lingers a few moments too long to be comfortable. Jon considers whether he wants to bring up that this is his lunch break (while perhaps sidestepping the fact that “lunch” is a cigarette in the alleyway behind the institute) or excuse himself back to his desk. And then Elias’ hand lands softly on the hem of his slacks. Jon’s gaze jerks down, then back up to meet Elias’ piercing gray eyes.
“What, ah- what are you doing?”
“I’m appreciating the wonders of modern medicine,” he says, his lips curling at the corners in a slight smirk. The hand creps up, then slides itself into Jon’s trousers, wraps around his soft, sensitive cock. There’s the shadow of sensation, nerves trying to relearn what pleasure is supposed to feel like in this new configuration. Flickering sparks as Elias slowly strokes up and down, gives him a soft squeeze. “Well, aren’t you lovely?” Low and hungry and appreciative.
Jon gasps, rolling his hips into the sensation. Still, they’re- god. They’re in a stairwell. They’re at work. Where anyone could simply wander in and see Jon getting fondled at before the clock even hits noon. “Elias!” He hisses. “Someone is going to see. And I can’t- ohh… Can’t…” Jon trails off, unable and unwilling to confess that he isn’t quite recovered enough to cum yet (can’t even get hard, not until he receives yet another surgery, and that won’t be an option for almost a year).
Elias gives him one last squeeze before he mercifully withdraws. Leans in close, close enough for his lips to brush Jon’s neck, just below his ear. “I’d like to see you in my office, when you have a moment.” Jon shivers, nods. Satisfied, Elias tilts his head to kiss Jon, soft and chaste. Something light and warm and joyful blooms in his chest and he kisses back, one hand wrapping around the warm solidity of Elias’ body, pulling him in closer.
When they part, Elias is smiling. Small and fond and real, and it is very, very difficult not to pull him in for another kiss. But Jon’s lunch break only lasts so long, and in any case Elias is already stepping back, expression fading into something distant and cooler. “We’re all very glad to have you back, Jon.”
He nods. “Yes, it’s… it’s good to be back.” Doesn’t say any of the stupid, fluttery things that want to escape his mouth, like “I’ve missed you,” or “would you like to join me for lunch?” He’s enjoyed their conversations, their occasional couplings, but they aren’t- they aren’t that.
So he just smiles, a little, nods goodbye, and watches Elias disappear back up the stairs.
God, he needs a cigarette.