By the time the after-party is over, Andy struggles to walk a straight line. He stumbles toward Robert California's office drunkenly, but with purpose. He curls his fists and swings open the door without thinking about it. Pink and trembling with rage, his eyes struggle to focus on the dark silhouette of Robert California sitting with his legs wide open, cock out of his pants, expression nonchalant.

His eye contact is, as always, penetrating. "Get a good look," Robert tells him, and without meaning too, Andy obeys. He notices that he's uncut, big even when soft. "You thought you'd come barging in here with your misplaced anger and what?" Robert gestures to himself and his own exposed penis. "Fix your twisted freudian family dynamic?"

Andy stares, wordless, as Robert wipes jizz from his desk, tosses the tissue into the wastebasket on the first try, and zips himself up.

"I'm-" The anger fades as Andy is sobered by shock. "I'm sorry," he mutters, turning to see himself out.

"C'mon now," Robert chides him. "You didn't come in here to apologize."

Robert stands and Andy fights the desire to shrink away when he takes a step forward. He gestures to the coconut scented lotion pump and smiles.

"Get what you came in here for." Robert folds his hands. "Give yourself the jerkoff session you think you deserve."

Andy stills, stiff in his pants. "Excuse me? I don't think-"

"You don't think what?" Robert holds Andy still by sheer force of will, before sliding around to the front of the desk. "We all heard you the other day. What was it you called me?"

Andy flinches when Robert grabs him from behind and squeezes his rear. "You wanna know my real name?" He presses close to Andy and lowers his voice to a whisper. "My real name is Daddy. Now bend over."

He braces himself, half bowed over the desk, head still cloudy from the cocktails. "I get super flexible when I'm nervous," he confesses, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat.

Robert raises his brows. "So I've heard. You've been vying for my personal attention since I stepped foot into this office. Why do you think that is?" When Robert grinds his pelvis forward Andy flinches and almost knocks the stapler off the edge of the desk.

"I-I don't know," Andy stutters, fixated on the heat radiating from the man behind him.

"Are you feeling a little homesick, Andy?" He slides his hand across his thigh and gropes him hard through the front of his pants. "Is this how you got the nickname "boner champ," or was it something far more deviant?"

"When I was in Cornell, I-"

He's told the story countless time but his voice stutters to a halt when Robert fists him through his pants. "Are you hoping I'll tell you what you've always wanted to hear? That you've done a good job and Daddy is proud."

"Please," Andy breathes quietly.

Robert stops just as Andy begins moving clumsily against him. "Finish yourself off. Prove to me that you deserve praise."

The backhanded compliments twist something desperate in Andy's ego. A paperweight clatters to the floor as he sinks into his forearms. His frame shudders and he chokes something like a sob into his hand while he strokes himself off.

"Come now," Robert teases. "Everyone knows big boys don't cry."

Andy accelerates the pace and doubles over, pulling frantically at himself until he blows his load harder than the night Drew Barrymore's nudes were leaked. He sags like a dead weight the moment he finishes, cum dribbling into his hand. Robert thinks about telling him to eat it but hands him a tissue and begins packing up his briefcase instead.

"Sorry for wasting your time," Andy mumbles, the moment he's decent.

Robert stops what he's doing and frowns. "Do I look like someone that would waste my own time?"

"No sir," Andy sniffles. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm never uncomfortable." He eyeballs Andy and sighs. "And you're worried this means you're gay?"

Andy wrings out his hands. "I wasn't, but I am now,"

"Chin up, Andy." He pulls him in for a one handed hug, formal, but intimate. "You should be proud of yourself," Robert says with an affectionate clap on his shoulder. "You'll have hair on your knuckles before you know it."