Archive of Our Own ^beta

Out in the hallway, Larry wheeled around to face me. “Your collar pin. You’ve never worn one before. Why are you wearing one today?”

The tone of his voice made me think that he wouldn’t appreciate hearing that Bob got it for me. “Look, I-I don’t know, I just felt like wearing it today. I didn't realize it'd be a problem.” I sidestepped him and began heading back to my office.

“No, no problem.” Larry turned and kept pace with me. “Just...it looks nicer than something you would buy for yourself.” I felt myself tense and started walking faster. “...Was it a gift?”

For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why he was so worked up about this. “Yes, Larry, it was a gift, and I wore it because I figured the giver would be happy if I wore it today.” Not technically a lie. “Is this really the best use of your time?” I had reached my office door, but stopped and turned back around. I couldn’t resist a jab. “Bob rode your ass pretty hard this morning; surely you should be reworking that report of yours instead of questioning my fashion choices?”

At that, he turned red and rushed off.

Not often I get one up on Larry, I thought. I settled at my desk and began drafting the President’s daily agenda. That’s probably what’s got him so upset today. Bob put him down while praising me, and I’m dressed nicely today, which is always a plus in Bob’s book. It’s not like he knows... 

Putting down my pen, I touched the collar pin reverently. The symbol of our relationship. I perform, and Bob rewards. With a renewed sense of pride at Bob’s confidence in me, I finished the Presidential agenda and went to give it to Nell to type up.

-----

I knocked on Larry’s doorframe to get his attention. “Bob wants you to remind MacGregor to get a head count on that defense bill.”

He barely glanced at me before looking back down at his papers. “Will do.”

“Can we talk for a minute? I feel like you’ve been mad at me all day, but I’m not sure why.” I cocked my head. “Is it because of what Bob said this morning?”

He let out a sigh. “You want to do this now? Fine. Come in.”

Closing the door behind me, I walked over while he came around his desk and leaned back on the edge. He gestured to the chair in front of him and I sat down.

“Look, Dwight, well…” He faltered, but took a breath and started again. “I know Bob gave you the collar pin. As a reward.” Fiddling with his own collar, he continued. “I know what it means.”

The tips of my ears turned red. “W-well, I—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Dwight, I know what it means.” He looked away and murmured, “When did he give it to you?”

“Um, maybe two weeks ago?”

His head snapped back around and he looked at me with a shocked expression. “Two weeks ago?!” Then, he looked away again, frowning and tracing his fingers along the edge of his desk. The next sentence was so quiet, I don’t think he meant to say it aloud. “And he didn’t tell me?”

I didn’t quite understand what was going on, but I could sense this conversation was hurting our friendship. And in the back of my mind, I suspected Bob was trying to pit us against each other. “Hey, Larry, look, I think Bob had me wear it today so I would be attentive when I started to plan the President’s trip to China.”

“You think I didn’t realize that?” Again, he fidgeted with his collar, and I noticed the empty metal eyelets. “You think I haven’t been working double-time to try and prove to Bob that I could handle advancing China?” I blinked. I hadn’t realized Larry had wanted to advance. “I make one mistake, yet you fuck up every day, and he chooses you?” As he continued fingering the eyelets, I shifted in my seat, starting to feel warm. It was rare to see Larry this angry—even more so when it wasn’t backed by an order from Haldeman.

I decided to needle him. With a lopsided grin, I said, “Come now, Larry, you’re getting sloppy. I don’t make mistakes every day.”

He barked out a laugh and pushed himself off the desk. “No, not every day. But I bet I could count on one hand the number of days this year Bob hasn’t chastised you.” I flushed. With Larry looming over me like this, I couldn’t help but notice how much he was acting like Bob. His posture, his tone, his words—and I was still in the same position as the whipping boy. Never would I reach their level; I may have studied under Bob, but only Larry was molded in his image. 

The snapping of fingers in my face brought me back to reality. “Hell, Dwight, are you even listening to me?” He leaned back and examined me. “No wonder you’re never able to follow orders correctly.” The insults weren’t nearly as harsh as Bob’s could get, but the ferocity with which Larry was delivering them was causing my cock to twitch. I had never expected him of all people to elicit this reaction from me, and I could only hope he didn’t realize how excited I was getting.

He leaned down so he was closer to eye level. “Bob doesn’t tolerate imperfection. Frankly, I have no idea why he keeps you around.” His eyes darted from my hair, down to my suit, then back up to my face, and his gaze darkened. “You understand that just because he collared you too doesn’t mean you’re his favorite, right?” He tugged on my pin, his face inches from mine. There was nothing I could do but nod. I had never seen Larry like this, and I was helplessly turned on. “Say it. Say you’re not Bob’s favorite.”

I nodded again and softly said, “I’m not Bob’s favorite.” So typical of Bob, to delegate trivial tasks such as debasing me and knocking down my ego to someone else. I could feel myself getting harder at the thought. It was a wonder Larry hadn’t noticed yet.

His hand moved from my collar to cup my chin, gently tilting my head upwards to look at him. The pressure of his fingers was soft, but I wouldn’t have been able to move if I wanted to.

“Say I’m the better aide to Bob,” he breathed, looking into my eyes with such fierce desperation I almost thought our positions were reversed. “Please.”

 “Y-you’re the, the better aide to Bob.” It was hard to speak with him so close. Inwardly, I cringed at my response. Not at the words—those rang true—but how automatic it was. I was good at following orders, but wasn’t ever proactive enough for Bob. Not like Larry was.

Larry straddled my thighs and snaked his hand through my hair. For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, feeling the other’s breath on our lips. Then, he tugged at my hair and dipped his head, whispering along my exposed neck.

“Again.”

“You’re the better, aide, aide to Bob.” Stifling a gasp, I clenched my fists in his shirt, trying to pull his body closer. He was sitting practically on my knees; I needed him against me. I needed him to tell me how I didn’t deserve someone as good as Bob, how Bob was going to delegate the tasks of punishing and praising me to Larry or someone even further down the chain. I needed—

“Don’t you ever forget that I’m better, Dwight.” Abruptly, he got off my lap, and I let out an involuntary whine. 

My mind was reeling and slow to catch up to reality. “Larry...” I murmured, my voice heavy.

“What?” He was back behind his desk now, smoothing out his shirt.

Denial was not something I was accustomed to. Bob used pain and pleasure in spades, and I was used to them both, but absence was something new. “Please.” I was finally starting to regain my senses. “Are-are you not...?”

He looked at me, with my hair ruffled and my cock hard, and smirked. “I know my place. I serve Haldeman, as do you. And I know better than to use his toys without permission.”

After taking a couple moments to find where he left off reading, he looked back up at me. “What are you still doing here, Dwight? I have work to do.”

I mumbled something akin to a goodbye, then tucked my dick into my waistband and hoped the bulge wasn’t too noticeable.

The rest of the day, I didn’t get much work done.