[SERIES] After Hours 22
Dec. 10th, 2006 07:32 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
makingamochrie.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
wl_fanfictionTITLE: After Hours
PART: SERIES 22
AUTHORS: anesthesiagirl and makingamochrie
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: AU, FICTION, DON'T OWN, DON'T SUE!
NOTES: See above
Ryan blearily blinked in the first rays of the early morning sun filtering through the unfamiliar window. His senses slowly awakened, first feeling the warmth of the covers surrounding him, then the foreign but not unpleasant smell of the room, and finally the weight of the arm thrown across his chest and the head resting on his shoulder. The room was still just dark enough that he couldn’t easily make out the features of the person he seemed to be sharing the bed with, and he didn’t dare to move and wake them before he fully remembered what was going on.
He closed his eyes tightly and struggled to remember the night’s events. A quick flash of a memory crossed the dark cover of his lids and suddenly he knew exactly where he was and who he was with. It was rare that he spent the night with anyone and even more rare that he allowed himself to fall asleep, so it was unusual for him to deal with the morning-after feeling. Surprising himself, he grinned slightly as he opened his eyes and regarded the head that rested just below his chin. He still couldn’t make out the details of Colin’s body, but he watched as the peacefully sleeping form rose and fell with his slow breathing.
The smile didn’t last long though as a deep knot of fear suddenly turned his stomach nearly causing him to retch. He had to get out of there. He couldn’t let Colin wake up and find him there. He’d get the wrong idea. Or maybe it was the right idea, but whatever it was, Ryan knew he couldn’t deal with it. His blood thrummed rapidly in his ears and his mind and heart raced.
He eased over on the bed, slowly extracting his trapped arm from under Colin’s neck, but carefully pulling a pillow over to replace his arm and gently letting Colin’s head fall into it. He searched the room, quickly locating his clothes and slipping back into them. He caught sight of the bedside clock that read 5:15 am and sighed a breath of relief realizing that no one else would be in the office yet. He turned to the door, intent on leaving as quietly as possible, but stopped in the threshold and turned back to face Colin’s still sleeping figure.
“Thank you.” He whispered as he took a deep breath and turned back, leaving the bedroom and closing the door softly behind him. He slipped out of the office, skipping the elevator in favor of the steps to help clear his head.
******
Ryan reached forward and pressed the small orange illuminated button that served as the doorbell for the house whose porch he stood on. The tall white door stood before him sporting a stylish but tasteful wreath and a thick black mat at its base. He was a few minutes early, but he’d been too jittery all day to sit at home for one minute longer and had actually welcomed the chance to take his mind off everything.
He’d spent the day alternating between attempts at sleeping, screwing around on the internet, an aborted attempt at a work out, and contemplating calling Greg. He’d settled for mostly laying in bed staring at the ceiling. How the hell had he let himself fall asleep? He’d never done that by accident before. The night had gone so wonderfully, why did he have to mar it like that? Colin had accepted his apology and even welcomed him with open arms, so to speak. God, why did he care so much anyhow? Maybe Greg was right afterall.
His thoughts were cut short as the broad door before him opened slowly to reveal an older gentleman dressed in a fine suit. “Mr. Stiles?” the gentleman questioned, his words revealing a soft British accent.
“Yes. Mr. Mathews?” he ventured, extending his hand to the man before him.
“No. No, sir. I am Nigel, Mr. Mathews’ butler. But he’s been expecting you, please come in.” Nigel finished, stepping back and gesturing towards the foyer of the house.
The man’s face bore no semblance of judgment either positive or negative and Ryan considered momentarily that either he had no idea what his boss was about it do, or he was the ultimate professional. Either way, Ryan was grateful for the acceptance into the home. The first night with a new client was always a bit difficult, although he strove to make sure that the client never knew how uncomfortable he really was.
The foyer was a wide spread of marble with a tasteful telephone table off to the left and a broad, curving dark wood staircase directly ahead. Ryan took a moment to get his bearings, looking up at the three story ceiling and the fine chandelier that hung above his head. The wall was interrupted at the third floor by a railing made of the same wood as the staircase, however Ryan couldn’t make out any details beyond that.
“May I take your coat sir?’ Nigel offered and accepted the charcoal wool overcoat that Ryan handed him. “Mr. Mathews is upstairs on the third floor, the last door to the left. He is expecting you. Would you like to me take you there?”
“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. Thank you very much.” Ryan answered, making little attempt to hide the relief in his voice that the extra player in this appointment would be willing to stay out of the way and just let him do his job. He had no doubt at that point that Nigel knew full well why he was there, and his respect for the man was profound.
He climbed the wide staircase, neither hurrying nor dallying as he approached the meeting of his new john. Treading down the thick carpeted hallway, he stopped dead in his tracks, his mind suddenly ripped from its musings about the artwork that lined the wide hall. Colin, he realized, was the last time he’d had a brand new john. God, why was he in this business anyhow?
Gathering his thoughts and taking a deep breath, he crossed the remainder of the distance to the door and knocked firmly. He could do this. Hell, he actually used to enjoy doing this. He was sure that this john’s expectations would be easy to fulfill. They almost always were. But, really, when he thought about it, he wasn’t really sure about anything these days.
Continuing on his way, he stopped at the wide, sedate door and after knocking softly, turned the knob and stepped in to what felt like one of those old time ‘Smith-Barney’ commercials. The entire room was done up in mahogany and cherrywood, giving it a dim, foreboding, men’s club type ambience. Three of the four walls were covered with bookshelves crammed to the gills with neatly organized books, all hardback and likely all speaking of law and history. In one corner was a huge, ancient, cherrywood desk, its dim lamp casting the only real light in the room. Across from the desk was a very uncomfortable looking leather couch and, catty corner to that, a just as uncomfortable appearing wingback chair upon which his john was currently sitting, holding a large snifter of warmed cognac between his palms.
The man, nattily attired in a deep red smoking jacket and loose black lounge slacks, looked up and smiled at him, his dentures large and improbably white beneath the wispy black moustache running along the curve of his upper lip. His hair was short and so black Ryan was sure it was dyed, not that that really mattered in the scheme of things he supposed.
The man’s slate gray eyes roamed up and down his form and if that hadn’t been part of the job ever since he could remember, Ryan would have been left feeling…slimy. The john just had that kind of air about him.
“My, but you’re a big boy, aren’t you?” he said, his voice an almost exact duplicate of his butler’s.
“Mr. Mathews?”
“Indeed,” the man replied, grinning a predator’s grin as he sat his drink on a small round table beside the chair and standing up. He was very slender and quite short; Ryan guessed that his head would come to Ryan’s nipple line, and he breathed a little more easily because of it. Not that he was nervous, exactly, but the man had a look about him that suggested things far more kinky than a quick and easy fuck, and while Ryan was up for pretty much anything, he did have boundaries, and this guy looked just the type to cross them.
“Ordinarily,” Mathews continued, “I would be the proper host and ask if you desired refreshment, but since I’m aware that those in your position rarely drink ‘on duty’, I suppose we should simply skip the niceties and proceed to, as the Americans are fond of saying, the good stuff.”
Ryan smiled slightly, confidently. “And your pleasure would be…?”
Striding forward, Mathews circled Ryan like an artwork bidder, hand on his chin. “Normally,” he said finally, coming to stand before Ryan and looking up into his eyes, “I would request something…darker…but given your delightful size, I think a good, old-fashioned fuck is in order. With you on top, of course. Oh, and I would like it long and slow. I prefer to get what I pay for, Mr. Stiles.”
“You will,” Ryan assured him, reaching up and fingering the deep red ascot the man wore round his neck. “You will.”
“Of that, I have no doubt whatsoever.” Touching the sleeve of Ryan’s jacket, he smiled. “The bedroom will suffice quite nicely for our activities. If you will follow me?”
Mathews’ bedroom, like his library, was dark and foreboding, done up in shades of brown, brown and brown. A huge four poster bed dominated the space and looked about as inviting as an iceberg. Still, with the money he was getting paid, he’d do it on a bed of nails if that’s what the customer wanted. His slips with Colin aside, he was a consummate professional.
When Mathews again turned to him, he strode forward with confidence in every step, fingering the ascot once again before removing it and brushing his long, warm fingers against the sensitive skin beneath. Mathews shivered slightly, but made no sound. Bringing his hands down, he undid the belt to the smoking jacket and laid it open. Mathews, bare beneath it, was very hirsute and, confirming Ryan’s earlier guess, very grey. Clouds of wiry gray hair covered just about every square inch of the man’s body from the waistband of his slacks to his shoulders and, Ryan guessed, his back as well.
His bodyhair wasn’t soft and fine like Colin’s—stop thinking about him!—but coarse and dry, and almost unpleasant to the touch. Still, he dragged his fingers through it, tugging lightly in some areas, scratching in others, appreciating in a clinical way the tiny whimpers the man made at the back of his throat. Using both hands to grasp the hair surrounding Mathews’ nipples, he tugged sharply then released, brushing the backs of his knuckles against the now straining points.
“You do that…rather well,” Mathews gasped, seemingly reluctantly.
Smirking, Ryan repeated the action, this time catching hold of the man’s nipples and squeezing them firmly, rolling them between his fingers and tugging just slightly. Moaning, Mathew’s rocked his hips forward, grinding his erection against Ryan’s lower thigh.
Taking the hint, Ryan moved his hand down through the tangled mat of hair to slip his thumbs into the waistband of the satin lounge slacks and slip them down, urging his john to step out of them, which he did, quickly.
The man’s cock was short—no more than five inches fully erect—but plump and rosy and straining for his touch. Wetness already dotted the tip in pearlescent drops. Reaching into his pocket, Ryan sought out the correct sized condom by feel alone and brought it out. Tearing open the foil, he removed it and expertly sheathed the now trembling man standing before him.
His entire hand engulfed Mathews’ erection as he curled his fingers around it, and he used his thumb to tease the sensitive head as he gave the man a few short, sharp tugs with his fist.
“Oh, my,” Mathews gasped again. “That’s really quite lovely, Mr. Stiles.”
“I’m glad you approve,” Ryan rumbled, tugging twice more before releasing him and pressing him against the bed with the flat of his hand against his chest. As Mathews stumbled into the bed, Ryan smiled. “Do you have a particular position you wish to use?”
“At the risk of seeming too forward,” Mathews replied, his eyes once again raking up and down Ryan’s long form, “I would like to see what you have to offer before making my decision.”
“Fair enough,” Ryan agreed, his hands moving up to his tie and unknotting it. Though he was the very picture of confidence, inside his mind was swearing a blue streak. He wasn’t aroused. At all. His dick was as limp as it had ever been, and when Mathews saw that, he’d lose a fat check and a new customer.
Unbidden, a vision of Colin on the couch, naked and trembling, came to his eyes, and after a brief second of fighting it off, he gave in and let it fill his senses. His body responded almost instantly and he pushed whatever residual guilt he might have had back to the far corner of his mind. After all, it wasn’t exactly the first time he’d used a fantasy to get himself aroused. And if this was the second—or was it the third?—time he used Colin’s image for such a purpose, well, whatever worked, right?
By the time he’d kicked his thong out of the way, he was fully erect and ready for action.
Mathews’ eyes were glued to his dick. “I have bedded a great many men in my life, Mr. Styles,” he said quietly and with awe, “but yours is without a doubt the most perfect specimen I have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon.”
Smirking, Ryan let him look a little longer before opening the condom he’d palmed and rolling it on. “Your preference?” he asked again, hands now at his sides.
“My belly, I think,” Mathews replied, drumming his fingers on his lips. “While I should like to look at your face during climax, I don’t believe I would be able to accommodate you so easily on my back.” He smiled. “Perhaps the next time.”
”Perhaps,” Ryan agreed. Kneeling his way onto the large bed—which was every bit as uncomfortable as it looked—Ryan gently helped the other man to turn onto his stomach. He grimaced slightly, glad that his face was hidden. The hair on Mathews’ back was even thicker than it was on his front.
Still, it had its uses, as Ryan found out when he tugged on it in various places to the moans and whimpers of his customer.
“I’m afraid if you continue to do that,” Mathews panted, “this shall be a very short night indeed.”
Biting back a chuckle, Ryan did as asked and smoothed his hands down over the cheeks of Mathews’ ass. They were firm and muscled as were his legs, and Ryan found to his relief that his own arousal had become more natural because of that. His strong hands kneaded the firm buttocks and upper thighs, gradually spreading both to his satisfaction. Mathews wasn’t making it any easier by continually grinding into the duvet beneath him, but he made due, and soon the man was open to him.
Removing the lube he’d also palmed, he drizzled some over his fingers and rimmed the tight ring of muscle that guarded the man’s hot entrance until it gave just slightly beneath the sensitive pads of his fingers. One finger slipped slowly in, followed quickly by a second as Mathews grunted and forced his hips back, impaling Ryan’s fingers inside of him as far as they could go. He found the prostate immediately, slightly swollen but not unexpected for a man his age, and started stroking it.
“Oh my, yes,” Mathews breathed. “Oh, yes.”
He added a third finger easily. In truth, the man wasn’t that tight once you got past the preliminaries, and he didn’t think he would hurt him. Still, it never hurt to be as prepared as you could be in situations like this.
After he felt his john was sufficiently spread and receptive, he closed his hands around the man’s narrow hips and drew him up to his knees. Lubing up his own cock, he positioned its head at Mathews’ stretched entrance and slowly slid inside in one long stroke.
“By God, yes!” Mathews hissed as his body quickly adjusted to the long, thick invader and he squirmed in delight. It was all he had been hoping for, and then some, and he was well pleased. Now, if the man could fuck as well as he looked, he’d have himself a customer for life.
Unaware of Mathews’ thoughts, Ryan pulled out slowly, then plunged back in just as slowly, intent on giving his customer the long, slow fuck he asked for. It wasn’t hard. The stimulation of the man’s inner walls was just enough to keep him hard, and as long as he kept his mind perfectly blank, he could go on like this all night, if need be. Had done it more than once, if the truth be known. It was one of the tricks of the trade, and he knew just about all of them.
There was only one problem. The image of Colin kept popping into his brain at the most inopportune moments, causing him to thrust harder or more quickly than he’d promised. Mathews, however, seemed to enjoy it, and so he let it ride. He didn’t like it, couldn’t figure it out, but he would if it was the last thing he did. He didn’t need other johns doing his work for him, and Colin was just another john.
Wasn’t he?
Damnit, Ryan thought as he fought to control his rhythm once again. Now is not the time to be thinking about these things! He had a warm and willing body beneath him paying obscene sums of money to get his socks fucked off, and he was damned if he was going to do a half-assed job of it.
Clamping harshly down on his errant thoughts, he continued to stroke into Mathews, long and slow, letting the lulling, familiar rhythm relax him without relaxing him too much. That would be bad. Very bad.
So he continued what he was doing with a perfectly blank mind until he heard Mathews, already moaning constantly, beg, “Touch me, Mr. Stiles. Please. I am rapidly nearing the edge. Please.”
That was an easy enough thing to do as he slid one hand down the furred crease between hip and thigh and grasped the straining cock in his huge hand. This time, he kept his tugs gentle as his short strokes, wanting everything to meld together for a satisfying finish. For at least one of them. He, himself, was about as far away from orgasm as he was from Mars, unfortunately, and Mathews didn’t seem the type who would miss that, no matter how fast he could tuck and dress.
Shit.
Greg worked, a little, but not enough. Long, slow lovemaking wasn’t their style and the thought of coming in him this way almost made him laugh aloud.
Fuck.
So, it was Colin again. It had to be. No one else turned him on as much or as quickly, not woman nor man.
With a silent sigh, he opened his mind up to his fantasy world, and suddenly it was Colin’s long, lean, hairless back against his chest, Colin’s soft murmurs, gasps and groans, Colin’s scent that tickled his nose and made him want to bury his nose in the nape of his neck and leave it there forever.
And when Mathews came with a gasping whine, Ryan followed him, totally caught up in his fantasy yet knowing enough to keep his mouth shut lest he call out the name of his imaginary lover to his current climaxing john. That was a mistake he couldn’t repeat.
Completely drained, he collapsed, exhausted, atop Mathews’ frail body before remembering that it likely couldn’t easily bear his weight. He rolled away languidly and stroked the sweating man’s heaving back, gentling him as best he could.
After several moments, Mathews turned to him, a broad smile upon his face. “That was lovely, Mr. Stiles,” he said hoarsely. “Simply lovely.”
Ryan smiled slightly and bowed his head in response.
“If you wouldn’t be adverse, I’d like another go around.” He held up a hand. “Not tonight, of course. I’m not as young as I used to be and I’m quite sure you have others waiting impatiently for your attention, but in the future, yes?”
“That would be fine,” Ryan replied, playing lightly with the hairs on Mathews’ chest. “Call my service and they’ll set you up an appointment.”
Nodding, Mathews let loose a great yawn. His breath, overlaid with Cognac as it was, still had a sourness to it that Ryan was hard-pressed to back away from.
“Most unmannerly of me,” Mathews said, eyelids heavy. “You do have my apologies.”
“Not a problem.”
“I shall call your service, then, as you have dictated. Your check is in the library. I trust you can find it yourself? I don’t seem to be able to move at the moment.”
“I can,” Ryan affirmed, slipping from the bed and grabbing for his clothes. Stripping off his condom, he tossed it in the trash and quickly dressed.
“It was a pleasure, sir,” Mathews mumbled, pulling the quilt over his naked body. “I hope to have it again soon.”
“As you wish,” Ryan replied, but the man was already asleep.
Breathing out a soft sigh of relief, Ryan exited the bedroom, stayed in the library just long enough to pick up and pocket his check, then left the house after being helped into his jacked by the ever-solicitous Nigel.
He bit the inside of his lip as his mind insisted on twisting and turning upon itself. Greg. He needed to call Greg. If anyone could help, he could. Plucking the cellphone from his pocket, he dialed the number from memory, listening until he was turned over to voicemail.
“Damn,” he whispered, dropping the phone into his pocket and unlocking the door to his car. “Damn.”
*******
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-11 03:09 am (UTC)damn! at him leaving Colin, even though i know he had to.
EWWW at the hairy backed beasty!
Can't blame him for thinking about Colin. Hell, thinking about a teapot would have been more of a turn on than that.
Another great chapter.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-11 03:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-11 11:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-11 01:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-11 01:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-11 01:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-11 10:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-11 11:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-13 02:07 pm (UTC)Details seem to be my fetish, however, and this pleased me greatly. Little, unimportant things, like that one sentence about the man's swollen prostate. It's those details that make the author sound like she knows exactly what she's doing, and they make the story that much more enjoyable for me. You always have such a nack for them. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2006-12-13 11:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-13 11:36 pm (UTC)Agreed with everyone else on the ew at the hairy back. But the way he talked had me laughing so hard I had to take a break. (Seriously, I am the easiest person to entertain)
I do feel sorry for Ryan though, going through all that mental agony over Colin. But it IS Colin, so mental agony is understandable.
Wheee. Excellent story! (:
no subject
Date: 2006-12-13 11:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-06 12:23 am (UTC)Every day, they're just falling for each other further and they're really can't make excuses any more. Ryan's conflict is really well done.
Brilliant as ever. And it blends seamlessly from AG to MAM, if I may compliment.