Down the Toilet

Jon barely remembered leaving the conference room. The applause still echoed in his ears as he pushed through the door of the men's restroom and headed straight for the sinks. He gripped the edge of the counter and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The man staring back looked exhausted, not physically, but emotionally.

Years of effort had been erased by a single announcement. The door opened behind him. Jon didn't have to turn around. He already knew who it was. Bill stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind him. "Well," Bill said, "that was complete bullshit."

Jon let out a slow breath. "Glad somebody else noticed."

Bill moved beside him and folded his arms. "Everybody noticed."

"No. Everybody applauded."

"They applauded because that's what people do."

Jon shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Bill studied him for a moment. The humor that usually lived in his eyes had faded. "I really thought it was yours."

"So did I." The words came out more bitterly than Jon intended. "I'm was a hell of a lot more qualified that him. That asshole is always trying to put one over on me. Ever since middle school we've been competing. This time's no different. He won." For a few moments neither man spoke. The restroom was quiet except for the distant hum of the building's ventilation system.

Finally Bill sighed."Look, maybe it won't be that bad."

Jon laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "Richard Head just became my supervisor. My career here is finished." Bill didn't immediately argue. That was almost worse.

The silence confirmed what both men already knew. Richard wasn't the kind of man who forgot a rivalry. He wasn't the kind of man who let old grudges die. For years he and Jon had competed for projects, recognition, and influence. Now Richard had real authority. The balance of power had shifted completely.

"I know you really hate that guy." Bill rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe there's still a way to get on his good side. Too bad he always wins." Jon looked at Bill's grin. It was the grin of a man about to say something stupid. "Maybe you should let him fuck Brandi so that he'll let you win a few times."

"What the fuck is the matter with you, Bill?" Jon stared. Then he stared some more. "Don't even joke like that. Brandi is the best thing that ever happened to me, and one of the few things I've had over Dick Head."

"I'm only kidding, Jon," Bill held his hands up. "But that is kind of erotic if you think about it for a second, letting your worst enemy, who's been essentially fucking you up the ass for years, fuck your wife. That would wrap up the humiliation completely."

"Bill," I think hard about punching him. "You're supposed to be providing me moral support, not ideas for how to further humiliate myself for the benefit of my mortal enemy."

"Jon, you know that humor is my defense mechanism," Bill shrugged. "I'm just trying to make you laugh."

"You are failing spectacularly." Jon shook his head and turned back toward the mirror. Of all the ridiculous things Bill could have said, that might have been the worst, or maybe the most insulting. The very idea of Richard winning the promotion wasn't enough. Now Bill was joking about Dick Head fucking Brandi.

"That's why you should let him fuck her," Bill punched me in the arm. "So he wins in that too. Bill chuckled. "I'm just saying. If Richard got to complete your humiliation, maybe he'd let you keep your job."

Jon glared at him. "You're a fucking idiot."

Bill leaned against the counter. "But you have to admit there's something hot about it. Your worst enemy finally beats you. Completely. The humiliation would be legendary. That's a hot fantasy, think about it."

Jon rolled his eyes. "I'd rather not." His cock twitched in his pants, saying otherwise.

Bill clearly thought he was hilarious. "The guy wins the promotion. Becomes your boss. Takes your office. Then somehow ends up getting the final trophy and fucking your wife." Bill laughed. "I'm just saying, from a purely psychological perspective, it's kind of hot. Admit it."

Jon groaned. "Please stop. Leave me alone, I'm done talking about this."

"Jon," he pressed on, "you can't tell me that you don't find the idea of letting your worst enemy fuck your wife at least a little bit stimulating."

Jon sighs. "If I answer will you stop pestering me about this shit?"

"Yes," Bill raised his hand in a mock oath.

"Fine, between you and me, its a little hot to think about. I love Brandi with all my soul. I cringe at the mere idea of even him seeing her, let alone touching her. Even so, the idea of allowing the Dick Heas to spoil my wife is a bit provocative."

"There," smiled Bill, "was that so hard to admit.

"Whatever. Can we please drop it now."

"Sure Jon," condeded Bill, "but ten bucks says you'll be thinking about it all day."

"You know," pondered Bill, "I wonder if he'd actually agree to it."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean if you actually offered to let him fuck your wife, would he agree to ruin her?"

"Bill, I thought we were finished talking about this. I am really not in the mood for this shit."

"Maybe I should ask him for you?" I finally snap, grabbing Bill's lapels and shoving him into the tile wall."

"Easy man, I'm just joking, remember. Besidrs, if any one is going to ask him to fuck your wife, it should be you."

"Dude, enough. This is getting perverted."

"No, perverted would be after you ask him to fuck your wife, asking him if you could film it. Now that'd be perverted."

"I'm out of here," Jon dropped him and turned to leave.

"Hey man, your secret's safe with me. Just make sure you get me a copy."

"Seriously," Jon said, "go to hell."

Jon shook his head. Yet despite himself, a strange thought flickered through his mind. Not because he wanted Richard to fuck Brandi, but because Bill had accidentally touched something deeper. The idea wasn't about Richard. It was about surrender. It was about losing, about someone else taking control. The thought unsettled him.

More unsettling was the brief spark of excitement that accompanied it. He adjusted his stiffening cock, hoping Bill didn’t notice. He immediately shoved the thought aside. The whole thing was ridiculous, a stupid joke and nothing more.

Before either man could continue, a toilet flushed behind them. Both froze. Jon felt his stomach drop. The stall door opened. Richard Head stepped out. For a moment nobody moved. Richard calmly adjusted the cuff of his shirt and walked toward the sinks. The color drained from Jon's face. The entire conversation, Richard had heard every word of it.

Bill looked as though he wanted the floor to open and swallow him. Richard stopped at the sink between them and turned on the water. His expression remained perfectly neutral, dangerously controlled. He washed his hands with deliberate care. Then he looked up.

Their eyes met in the mirror. For a second, that familiar smirk appeared, the same smirk Jon had seen in the conference room, the same look that said Richard was enjoying every second of this. When Richard finally spoke, his voice was calm.

"One thing before you gentlemen leave." Neither man answered. Richard dried his hands and folded the paper towel neatly. "Since there seems to be some confusion regarding the new organizational structure," His gaze settled on Jon. "From now on, you can call me Mr. Head." The smirk returned. Then it vanished.

Richard dropped the towel into the trash can and walked out of the restroom without another word. The door clicked shut behind him. Silence filled the room. Bill stared after him. Jon wanted to disappear. His humiliation had already begun, and he suspected Richard was only getting started.