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Say it louder for the people in the back

Chapter Text

Oh, god. He’s cut his hair. The fucking guy has cut his hair.

Steve gapes at the screen. His entire day is ruined.

Until now, when he’d watched the CCTV view of the lobby on his phone, it was the long hair that prevented Steve from really being able to see the guy. He keeps a screenshot of each of his clients in his phone, just for safety’s sake, since he’s allowing them entry into his home, but this guy’s shaggy hair has always meant Steve couldn’t get a good clear shot of him. It’s really goddamn annoying.

Not that it actually matters, not that Steve gives a shit about clients’ faces—anonymity was literally the entire point of a glory hole—but, fuck, sue him, he’s been curious about this guy.

He barely glances at the screen for his other clients before he buzzes them in. But with this guy, he’s started delaying pressing the buzzer, really trying to get a look, each time. He knows it’s stupid and maybe weird, but he isn’t doing any harm. It’s not like he’s been creeping the guy’s Facebook or something. He doesn’t even know his full name. He just wants to get a little look.

He’s tall, Steve can tell. Maybe kinda built—it might just be a trick of the camera angle, but he looks really fucking broad in the shoulders. Probably fairly young, based on his clothes. He’s obviously out of Steve’s league, anyway, not that Steve was kidding himself about dating again. Sometimes Steve catches a flash of the guy’s eyes as he buzzes him in, but that’s all; he’s usually looking down, shuffling awkwardly, the curtain of his hair masking his face. It’s been driving Steve a little crazy.

Because the guy never speaks. Not a word. No, worse: he never makes a sound. And, honestly, Steve does not care either way if guys are quiet or loud when he’s going down on them; he’s been doing this long enough not to take people’s reactions personally. If there’s anything he’s learned to appreciate about his clients, it’s their infinite variety, and he’s just as used to the deep breathers as he is to the dirty talkers and the screamers. Some dudes are just quiet. Sure, hypothetically, in a relationship Steve would prefer a responsive partner, but that’s completely irrelevant. He doesn’t have a relationship, and it’s not like any of these guys are sticking around for a cuddle afterwards anyway.

It’s just—look, Steve is a fucking master at what he does, all right. A straight-up cocksucking genius. People tell him all the time. He’s generally a modest guy, he would never brag about it, but it’s a simple fact that if there were an Olympics of giving head, then he is definitely Michael Phelps AND Usain Bolt combined in one small yet talented package. He knows what he’s doing.

And this dude, this fucking tall guy with his shoulders and his face-concealing hair, keeps fucking coming into Steve’s home, and also, like, coming into his home, and receiving what Steve knows to be the best fucking anonymous fellatio it was possible to get, in the whole city, and he doesn’t even breathe hard.

It pisses Steve off. It shouldn’t, but it does. There was just nothing; not a whimper, not a satisfied exhale, nothing at all to indicate there’s even a person on the other end of the dick Steve was so generously sucking. For a price, but still. Generous. Every time, this guy just stomps into Steve’s apartment, sticks his cock in the hole, and comes in absolute silence about five minutes later before stomping out again. He never even says thank you. It’s hard not to be insulted.

It also doesn’t help that the guy has the most beautiful dick Steve has ever had the pleasure of seeing. And he has seen so, so many dicks. But this one was…wow.




He’d fallen for it hard at first sight, maybe seven or eight months ago. He got a text from Wade, one of his regulars, saying u interested in new client? buddy looking with a phone number. Initially, Steve was planning to decline, since he was happy with his select list of regulars and wasn’t interested in running the glory hole more than one day a week. It wasn’t like he needed the money any more. But Wade was a good guy, and had been with him for so long, Steve figured it couldn’t hurt to help out a friend. He sent a text to the new guy’s number and saved him in his contacts as new guy (wade’s friend). They’d set up their first appointment in a couple of brief messages. He hadn’t thought much more about it until the guy showed up and fed his cock through the hole.

After a couple of minutes, Steve had made a mental note to send Wade a gift basket. Maybe some balloons. Fucking champagne.

This dick…it wasn’t just that it was big, although it most definitely was that. It was the whole thing. Really big but not too long, uncut, already half hard. And the way it was already starting to flush with color, Jesus Christ, and the thick, blunt head, and ohh my God

Steve had grinned. He was in. love. with this dick, and he was going to suck it so. good.

Or at least, he thought he was. He thought he had. He’d started slightly cautiously, as he always did with new clients, but he eventually built up a nice rhythm and used a few of his go-to moves that usually got a good reaction. The guy being quiet didn’t bother him that first time; lots of guys were quiet. And this dude seemed to be enjoying himself despite his silence; he was leaking and fucking rock hard within a minute of Steve first touching him. Everything seemed to be going well.

When the orgasm came, Steve had only been briefly, mildly disappointed at the lack of audible reaction; the guy’s cock pulsed gorgeously for ever and there was a frankly startling amount of come, so it would have been nice to hear a moan or a sigh or something. But it hadn’t been that big a deal. Every guy was different.

But then, the guy had fucking ghosted. Steve was just finishing cleaning up the last of the come from the guy’s head with his tongue, and he was feeling just unreal, so spacey and turned on and fucking awesome. He was about to lean back and stretch and sigh and say, “how was that?” or something equally mindless and post-coital, but the second his lips left the guy’s dick, the guy pulled back through the hole like he’d been burned. There were loud, fast footsteps and then Steve’s front door slammed as the guy left. He practically sprinted.

Even that wasn’t anything unusual, really. Nobody at a glory hole exactly stuck around to chat--except Wade, and he didn’t count. Most of his clients would take a second to get themselves presentable before they left, or ask to use the bathroom. Plenty of them thanked him. Profusely. But not everyone! A lot of guys who came to Steve were straight, or ashamed of what they were doing, or whatever. It was an awkward thing for some people, and Steve had to remember that they didn’t owe him any reaction, no matter how phenomenal their dicks were. One guy being quiet really shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did.

It was just that he’d really wanted this guy to enjoy himself. And he absolutely had to have that stunning cock in his mouth again. Was the guy not satisfied? Steve had assumed, from the seemingly devastating orgasm that had occurred, that he’d done a good job, but now this guy’s silence during the whole thing was coming back to him and Steve was starting to wonder if he’d fucked up.

He decided, perhaps unwisely, to text him.

was that ok?

The reply had come a moment later. All it said was, yeah.

Steve waited another minute, but that was it.

Yeah,” Steve grumbled. “How expressive.” He was starting to pout. “You’re fucking welcome, asshole.”

Wade texted him later, How did James like it? And Steve texted back Oh my god, don’t tell me his NAME, and Wade just sent him back OOOOPSSSS and a string of random emojis that didn’t make sense, and Steve figured that was it.

But then, a few days later, he got a text from the new guy’s number:

u avail next week?

Steve changed his contact name to new guy (james), and James became a regular.

Steve pulled out all the stops, and the guy came like a freight train every time, but never made a sound and always ran out the door. Steve didn’t understand. Guys never just stood there impassively while on the receiving end of his best deepthroat work. It was unheard of. But James kept making appointments, and never went more than a couple of weeks without coming back. Steve tried to just accept it without stewing. But it was getting to him.




By now, Steve has admitted to himself that he’s gotten a little preoccupied with New Guy James. He wants to ask Wade about him, but that would really not be cool. Steve values and protects his clients’ privacy. He’s extremely serious about it. But he’s just so curious about what this guy’s deal is. And that cock is fucking second to none. Steve cannot be blamed that he wants to see the rest of him.

But now. Dear God. This asshole’s turned up for their appointment with his hair cut.

He’s standing in the lobby, and Steve’s finger is hovering in midair above the button to buzz him up, but it’s frozen in place and he actually whimpers out loud, because oh no. This guy’s face. Steve finally has a clear shot of it, and he is so fucking hot. Like, intimidatingly, unattainably hot. Like, crazy beautiful.

He’s also wearing just a t-shirt instead of his usual eighteen layers of sweaters and jackets, and the thin fabric is confirming every suspicion Steve’s had about the jacked-ness of this dude’s body.

Even by the shitty, grainy image on his screen, Steve can tell that this guy is basically every model, athlete, and movie star that he’s ever fantasized about, rolled into one. Ten times hotter than any guy Steve has ever even seen. Steve wants to cry, he’s so hot. He wants to lie on his bed and scream. This guy should be, like, making passionate athletic love to his superhero husband in a fucking castle, or whatever. Not visiting a shitty glory hole in Flatbush twice a month. What the fuck.

Steve stares for a few more seconds at the beautiful face on his screen, then gets himself together. This is so, so unfair. He’s feeling weird and nervous now, like the guy’s going to figure out that he’s too good to be here. He buzzes Extremely Hot Guy James upstairs and pulls out the homemade false wall where the hole is.

The guy comes in, and Steve blows him. It feels off, hesitant and timid by Steve’s standards, but the guy unloads down his throat after a few minutes anyway. He does it without even so much as a whisper, and is out of the apartment before Steve’s even stopped swallowing.

Steve sits back on his heels and sighs. It was a decent BJ, and it shouldn't feel so anticlimactic. He actually feels like shit, which sucks because he usually feels fantastic after a client. He can’t figure it out, why is this stupid situation even bothering him? He cleans up his supplies moodily and tries to forget about it.

Later he gets a text, same as always: u avail next week?

Suddenly Steve’s mad. How dare this fucking guy get in his head and make him feel bad. Steve Rogers is the best cocksucker of his generation, thank you very much, and he isn’t going to let some silent asshole mess up his game, no matter how good he looks.

He types a reply.

yep. same time is good.

Sooner or later, he thinks, I’m gonna make you scream. He smiles to himself, and presses Send.




Chapter Text

Steve’s been operating his glory hole off and on since college. He’s doing okay with the graphic design thing, so he doesn’t need to suck dick for the money any more, which is good because the money is frankly not great. There are plenty of free glory holes around, and the only reason Steve can charge anything at all is because has established himself as a high-end provider, the absolute fucking best.

He takes clients now by referrals only. He could give it up if he wanted to, but he doesn’t want to. He loves sucking cock, it turns him on, it gives him what he needs to get himself off, and he always feels satisfied at the end of a busy week.

He doesn’t try to date any more. He’s horrible at casual conversation, and nobody’s attracted to his scrawny body anyway. He stopped hooking up too, deleting Grindr from his phone after one too many gross douchebags made shitty comments about his photos. It’s insane how many guys assume “u look 15” is a good opening DM. Ugh.

So helping out his clients every weekend is, he feels, a great arrangement. He doesn’t have to deal with any relationship bullshit or take embarrassing pictures for his profile. He concentrates on his design work through the week, and on Saturdays he gives the best BJs in the city. It’s a good little side-business; he gets off, he makes money, and nothing gets complicated. Everybody has a good time.

But this asshole. Extremely, Unnecessarily, Unfairly, Scorchingly Hot James. He’s been back a couple of times since Steve saw his face, and he is continuing to mess Steve up with his perfect jaw and his perfect dick and his iron self-control. Steve’s given him his absolute best, with no results, and now he’s starting to doubt himself. Maybe he’s not as good as he thought?

He had taken a screenshot of the CCTV view of James’s face before buzzing him up last time, and it’s been sitting on his phone, torturing him, ever since. For the first few days he couldn’t even bring himself to look at it, he felt so weird.

He caved on Wednesday. It wasn’t his proudest moment, grabbing his phone from the nightstand at 1am and bringing up the picture as he lay there in the dark. He felt like a total fucking creep. But goddamn. He hadn’t been dreaming. The guy is literally perfect and Steve can’t believe he’s one of his own clients.

He is definitely starting to obsess. Just a little. He’s also absolutely determined to make Hot James crack this week, and he has a plan he thinks might work.

His next appointment is for this Saturday, and Steve spends the whole week trying not to think about it. By Saturday morning he’s feeling the same weird nervousness as last time. And more: anticipation. When his phone chimes, he practically dives for it and hits the button to bring up the camera feed.

His breath catches a little at the sight of that same crazy gorgeous face.

He buzzes him up and slides behind the false wall and clicks the lock shut. It’s set up like the door of a public bathroom stall, attached to the real wall with a hook in the alcove of Steve’s apartment, between the entryway and the kitchen. Steve has a little stool back there, and a kneeling pad. There’s also a tiny side table that hold all his supplies.

Hot James comes in after a moment, and his footsteps are loud as he makes his way over. Butterflies in his stomach, Steve tries for casual.

“Hey, man,” he says, like they’re buddies. “How’s it going?”

As expected, the guy doesn’t respond.

It’s okay, Steve thinks. He will.

There’s the sound of a zipper, and Hot James’s cock and balls come through the hole. Steve just stops himself from breathing “Hey you” when he sees it. He’s on very intimate terms with this dick already, but the sight of it still makes him sigh a little. It’s perfect. He loves it. He takes a small sip of water from his bottle, and gets himself ready.

Ordinarily, with a soft cock, Steve likes to dive right in, to start out at a pretty strong pace, letting his enthusiasm work with the suction to get the guy going. He loves feeling a dick fatten up in his mouth, especially this one.

Today, though, he doesn’t do any of that.

At first, he doesn’t do anything at all, just takes a few long, slow breaths that he knows James will hear. Then he raises his left hand and traces one fingertip slowly down the length of James’s dick.

That’s all. He takes his hands away and counts to five. Then he repeats the motion on the other side, touch feather-light and going even slower, watching as the shaft jumps, just a little, under his touch.

Steve puts his hands back on his knees and waits another five seconds. Then he brings both hands back to the shaft and touches with all his fingers, dragging them up and down, still as slow as he can. He’s barely even touching, fingertips ghosting along the velvet skin. The cock jumps again, and Steve smiles and repeats the leisurely up-and-down motion twice more before letting himself be still.

He watches with satisfaction as James’s cock thickens a little more, and gradually flushes darker. The big, blunt head is just starting to poke out from the foreskin, and Steve has to force himself to breathe deeply and evenly because his heart rate is picking up at the sight of it. It’s too fucking beautiful.

He touches him again, turning his hands and running the backs of his knuckles up the shaft and back down, still achingly slow and butterfly-soft. He goes back to using the fingertips, alternating hands, petting and stroking as James’s cock bobs slowly to life. He uses one hand to pet his balls, just for a second, and swirls the thumb of his other hand gently over the head at the same time. He’s rewarded with another twitch.

He thumbs at the frenulum briefly, then over the slit, and back down in an elongated stripe on the underside, before sitting back again and waiting. The cock is really thickening, the head a nice dark pink where it’s straining past the foreskin. God damn, why didn’t he think of this sooner? Just watching James get hard is turning him on like crazy.

He returns to the long, soft strokes of fingertips, all the way down and all the way back up, two or three or four times in a row and then a nice, long pause in between to remove his fingers and just watch.

The twitching is so awesome.

He’s deliberately keeping his mouth away, but fuck, it’s not easy. He already knows how good it’s going to taste. But not yet, not yet, damn it. He has a plan. He has to control himself so he can play some more.

He plays. For another few minutes, he brushes and strokes his way up and down and never squeezes, never gives any pressure or friction.

James is fully hard now, straining up thick and straight and heavy, pointing right to Steve’s mouth. Steve can’t help himself: he leans forward and rubs his lips against the shaft, still lightly. He can’t help, either, the little sigh that he lets out.

On the other side of the wall, James shifts his stance. Then really quietly, he clears his throat.

Steve grins. He is going to get him.

He pumps out a little flavored lube and slicks up his fingers, then makes a loose fist and slides it down slowly over James’s head, very gently. The cock throbs. He strokes his hand down to the base, then just as slowly back up and all the way off, and the cock jumps again. He waits for just a second before repeating the motion, quicker this time, and with a little more pressure from his fingers. He does it a third time, and this time he follows his fingers with his mouth, fitting his lips over the head and moving them right behind his hand, slowly down and back up.

Oh, god, he feels so good in Steve’s mouth. Steve flattens his tongue against the frenulum for just a moment before pulling off again and sitting back.

He is desperate to feel him some more. But he keeps still, and makes himself wait. This is only going to work if he does it right. He pets his fingertips gently down the shaft again, barely-there strokes. The cock throbs and twitches. Steve holds it lightly at the base and licks from the balls to the tip, flicking under the head as he pulls away.

James lets out a loud, shuddering breath through his nose.

It’s the hottest sound Steve has ever heard. Already it’s more of a reaction than Steve’s ever had from him before, and he hasn’t even really sucked him yet. Usually their appointments are over in five minutes or so; this is going to take a lot longer and be a lot better.

With new resolve to stick to the plan, Steve goes back to jacking James as slowly as he can, irregular strokes, sometimes just one, sometimes five or six in a row, pulling his hand away in between. Occasionally he’ll add his mouth to a stroke, sucking lightly all the way down, then back up and off. He never gets into a rhythm, never lets James anticipate his next move.

He’s rewarded with loud, irregular intakes of breath from the other side of the wall. Every time he stops touching, it's quiet, but when he leans back in for another taste, James sucks in air and lets it out shakily and Steve is fucking ecstatic.

One time, he takes his lips and hands away and counts slowly up to ten. James’s dick is so fucking hard, and it bounces a tiny bit as Steve waits. After he gets to ten, he slides his lips back over the shaft, deep and slow. There’s a thumping sound and the wall shakes a little.

Oh my god. The guy just slammed his fist against the wall. This was the best idea ever.

Steve gives a small involuntary moan as he finally leans forward and lets himself take the cock all the way. He maintains the achingly slow pace on the way down, concentrating on relaxing his throat and taking it nice and deep. When he’s finally got his lips around the base, he sits still for a moment, more for himself than anything else. He loves a cock in his throat, and this is one of the more impressive cocks he’s taken in his time. Every time he does this, he wants to savor it. It feels fucking great.

He bobs his head minutely, letting the head of James’s dick bump softly against the back of his throat. When he swallows, there’s a choked, muffled sound from the other side of the wall, and Steve mentally high-fives himself. Then he starts to draw off, easing himself back, maintaining suction and swirling his tongue all around as he goes, and when he pops off and sits back to catch his breath, he realizes he can hear James panting.

He grabs the base of the cock and starts to go down in earnest. Up and down, pretty fast and lots of suction. He keeps going without a break, really giving it to him, to push James where he wants him to go.

After a few minutes he can tell James is getting there fast. The panting isn’t loud but it’s still there and it’s speeding up, and this is a first: usually, the only warning he gets from this guy is his cock giving a really big pulse right before he comes, but this time he can hear the crescendo building as the panting becomes louder and more ragged.

He bobs his head a little faster, and starts to concentrate more on the head, using his hand to jerk off what his lips aren’t reaching. He maintains the rhythm, faster and faster, and feels James’s balls tighten under his fingertips, hears James’s breathing falter and catch, and Steve knows he’s ready to come.

He pulls all the way off and sits back.

James lets out an explosive breath. His dick jumps and throbs, and Steve can hear him still panting.

He waits till the throbbing has stopped, and then for another few seconds. James is so fucking hard and dark, dark red. It’s so hot. He leans over and licks the head with the tip of his tongue. James jerks at the touch, and makes a startled gasp.

The Steve slowly goes back down on him. He slides his lips down in increments, halfway down, then slowly back up, and then he starts to go faster. The panting gets louder and more frantic, and then Steve feels him throb again—

He stops again.

“Augh, fuck.” The words are muffled, like maybe he’s covering his mouth, but they’re unmistakeable and it’s the first time Steve has heard his voice, ever. He feels like fucking cheering.

The poor guy is panting heavily, pulling in loud breaths that are close to being actual moans, and his cock is wet and red and Steve watches, transfixed, as it pulses and pours out a huge stream of precum that trails down the shaft and over his balls before dripping on the floor. James gives a muffled groan.

Steve can’t remember a time when he’s ever been more turned on than right now. His own cock is rock hard in his pants. All of a sudden, the anticipation is too much even for him—he has to make this guy come immediately.

He grabs the cock again and dives back on, sucking hard and bobbing his head fast. James gasps, and then gasps again, and after Steve slides up the fourth time his cock jumps and gives the telltale throb. Steve take the cock into the back of his throat and waits. James lets out a low, pained sound, like a groan, and then he comes. He always comes a lot, so Steve is expecting it, but this time is so, so much better because the guy is just losing his mind over there, gasping and panting and whimpering. He sounds so wrecked, like he's trying to hold back but he can't, stuttering the beginnings of words like “hhhhho” and “f-fuhhh”, over and over. He keeps going forever, and he's not loud but it's still so brutally hot to finally hear him.

Steve just swallows and swallows and floats on air.

When it’s over, to Steve’s eternal delight, Hot Guy James does not run out of the apartment. He spends a good half a minute breathing hard, and he keeps his dick in the hole long enough for Steve to catch his own breath and give him a real thorough cleaning up. By the time that’s over, James is quiet, but he moves slowly, and Steve can hear him shuffling his feet around while he arranges his clothes. He smirks and wonders if James is having trouble standing right now, because damn. Steve did a good job on that one. He leans forward and slumps over with his elbows on his knees, grinning. He’s still so fucking hard but he barely notices. He’s in the afterglow stratosphere.

James doesn’t say anything when he leaves, which Steve was mostly expecting. He’s vaguely disappointed, but not enough for it to ruin his high.

He wipes the floor, cleans up his supplies and rolls the false wall back into the kitchen. He strips off his tank top and throws it in the hamper. In the bathroom, he rinses his mouth with Listerine and washes his hands. When he looks in the mirror, he realizes he’s still smiling.

He heads to the bedroom and climbs into bed, even though it’s not even noon. He gets himself comfortable, sets up his phone so he can see the screen from where he’s lying, and brings up the grainy pic of James that he saved. Then he jerks himself off mercilessly, staring at the guy’s beautiful face and thinking about his beautiful cock. It takes about 40 seconds before he comes, yelling his release before flopping bonelessly back onto the pillows.

He turns off the screen. He thinks he should feel guilty, but he doesn’t. He takes a shower, and when he comes out, he sees a new text notification.

what the hell was that?




Chapter Text

what the hell was that?

Steve stares at the message from new guy (james). His enormous high from the past hour starts to fade, super quick. Maybe he hasn’t exactly thought this thing through very carefully...what if James hates being teased?

Shit. He types quickly to reply.

thought i’d try something new
I should have checked with you first, sorry
I guess I thought you'd like it
you can have your money back if you didn’t



no, I mean I don’t want my money back


I liked it

Oh, thank god. Steve sags with relief. He liked it! And also, fucking right he liked it, that was one of the greatest performances of Steve’s life, how could Hot James be anything but entirely satisfied with that amazing experience?

that’s good
so it’s ok if i do something like that next time?

u avail next week?

yep how’s 3pm saturday


ok have a good one




The following Saturday, he buzzes Hot James up to his apartment at three o’clock. He’s had some clients already today, and he’s feeling good, but he cannot wait for this one.

Steve’s never really experimented with edging his clients; his expertise lies in his technique, and he’s always been so good at making guys come quick that he never bothered seeing what it would be like to draw it out like that. But, wow, yeah, that was a success. It was fucking insane, really, both in how strongly James had responded, and it how much Steve himself had loved it.

He’d barely been able to concentrate on anything else all week. The guy had been so worked up and responsive, and it was just so good, fuck. And that was just with some really mild edging! Steve’s sure Hot James had still been holding back. He figures he’ll up the ante today, and see how loud this fucker can get.

But then Hot James never shows up at the door. After a couple of minutes of jittery waiting, Steve checks his phone again, but James isn’t in the lobby any more.

After five full minutes with no sign of him, Steve texts him.

r u coming up?

There’s no answer.

r u ok?

Still nothing, and then Steve remembers that someone got stabbed in the stairwell a month ago, and the cops were called twice this week already, and god damn it, maybe something’s happened. Steve steels himself and leaves the apartment to go look for him. He checks the stairwell, but the only people he sees are his scumbag neighbor from next door, and the mailman.

Thirty minutes later, he’s put away his supplies and is watching TV distractedly when his phone pings.

I couldn’t get there. Can we reschedule?

Yeah we can resched
but like did something happen?
I buzzed u up
did the door not work?

nah just had to go home

So ur ok?


Jesus. I just went and checked every stairwell in case you got jumped or something

Fuck sorry

No its ok
im just glad ur ok
im really out of breath from those stairs tho lol
There r a ton of sketchy assholes in this building so unfort it wldnt have surprised me

I can deal with sketchy assholes

lol ok

You avail next week instead?

yeah. Same time?

yeah if that’s ok

Yep great





The following Saturday, Steve has three clients booked before James is due. The two dudes in the morning are guys he’s been blowing regularly for years, one who always comes the second Steve deepthroats him, and another one who likes a little bit of teeth, which Steve is happy to provide. The third guy arrives after Steve’s had lunch; he doesn’t come to Steve very often, but when he does he makes him work for it, a good half hour before he finally comes, and he as he comes he always whispers aggressive degrading shit that Steve is starting to find really depressing.

Anyway, Steve’s jaw’s a little achy by three o’clock, but he’s feeling awesome. He can also barely sit still, he’s so nervous. And excited. And extremely, preemptively turned on. Another time, he might be less enthusiastic by the fourth client of the day, but he forgets all about his sore jaw and those other BJs when his phone pings from the lobby.

He brings up the camera feed. Hot James is still insanely fucking hot, no surprise there. Steve gets a little freaked out, thinking about that beautiful dick. It’s stupid; why is he still so weird about this guy? Since when has he been scared of a dick?

That’s his whole problem, though. It’s not just any dick. It’s the best dick he’s ever had, bar none, attached to the most beautiful man on earth. Fuck, Steve wants to impress this guy so badly.

Ugh, stop. It's not like they’re ever going to interact face to face. And even if they did, which they won’t, this guy would never look at Steve twice.

But, wait. Okay. Calm down. The dude told him straight out that he liked the teasing last time. Remember the sounds he made when he was finally, finally letting himself go a little? All that heavy breathing and moaning that he just couldn’t hold in? Yeah, that was sexy as fuck. Steve made him sound like that. Steve is the fucking god of fellatio.

He’s been staring at the camera feed for so long that the guy actually shuffles forward and the hits the call button again. Steve blinks and buzzes him up, sets himself up behind the wall and waits. His palms are sweaty, and he has to keep wiping them on his pants until James comes in.

There’s the familiar sound of a zipper, and then James slides himself through the hole.

Soft, but so pretty and so thick and just totally, entirely mouthwatering. Steve takes a slow breath, and begins.

He starts the same way, slow, just fingertips, ghostly touches, dragging them lightly and watching James get harder and harder. It’s at least three minutes before he even wraps his hand around the base of his cock. When he does, he gets a little breathy sigh in reward.

He jacks James slowly and irregularly. He keeps stopping to watch him bob up and down and get harder and darker. It’s so hot. Steve might die.

But when he finally slides his lips around the head, that’s when the miracle happens.

“Mmmmm,” James groans, softly but clear as day. “Oh, yeah, that's it.”

Steve gets an instant adrenaline hit. They’ve barely even started and the guy is talking.

He slides slowly down the shaft and James exhales, long and deep. “Oh, that feels so good,” he whispers.

Steve pulls off to drag his tongue over James’s balls, and sucks one into his mouth.

Fuck yes,” James moans.

Steve almost can’t believe it. This completely silent dude gets one edging BJ and suddenly he’s a talker?

His voice is ridiculously sexy, deep and raspy and thick with arousal. Steve wants to hear it more, much much much more; he almost wants to make him come right away, just to listen to it. But he knows it will be so much better if he goes slow.

So he goes really, really slow.

He experiments a little, making it different from the last time. Deepthroating him without warning, and then going back to barely touching for a while. Alternating fingers and lips. Swirling his tongue around the head, three or four times, and then sitting back and just watching him twitch. And all the time James hums and gasps and is kind of getting loud, actually, and it’s so fucking good. Steve is a genius.

The first time James gets close is when Steve has been taking pity on him a bit, jacking him off with a steady rhythm and keeping his lips sealed just under the head. James’s breathing gets harsher, suddenly.

“Holy fuck,” he says in a strained voice. “Holy fuck, oh my god--”

Steve lets go, and James makes a punched-out noise, and his dick jerks and jumps like crazy. After a few seconds of panting, he heaves in a big breath and says, “Do it again.”

Oh, jesus. Steve’s brain is melting with how sexy this is.

And so he does it again, just like James asked, wrapping his fingers around nice and tight and leaning back in to suck on the crown. He jerks him pretty slow, but firm and regular, and it’s only another few minutes before James stops breathing and then suddenly goes, “Oh, oh!” in this broken voice, and Steve lets go again.

The wall shakes as the guy thunks some part of his body against it -- Steve thinks maybe his forehead.

He sits back and listens to James’s breathing, and tries to calm himself down. He's so keyed up from this, he feels like someone is sucking his dick.

When James’s breathing evens out, Steve leans forward again. He flicks under the head with his tongue, and James sucks in his breath. Steve does it again, and then two more times. Then he flattens his tongue and makes it soft and wet and presses it up in the same spot and just holds it there. The cock throbs on his tongue. After waiting like that a few moments, he starts to slowly move his tongue forward and back in tiny thrusts, keeping it soft, rubbing right under the head.

This is something Steve loves to have done to him; he knows exactly how amazing it feels, to have someone lick you right there and nowhere else, taking you higher and higher without ever enough friction to get you off. James starts up these throaty humming moans, long and deep on every exhale. He sounds like he’s in pain, like someone’s dragging the sounds out of him, and Steve wishes he could see his face. The moans get less steady, more breathy, the longer Steve concentrates on that one spot. James is leaking onto Steve’s tongue, and the sounds he’s making start speeding up as his breath gets shorter. Steve is leaking in his own pants, too.

“Oh god,” comes the voice, deep and cracked. “Holy fuck.”

Steve has to reach down to squeeze himself hard, that voice is just so fucking hot. He wants to keep drawing this out, but he needs his own body to calm down so he can concentrate, Jesus Christ. He gets himself under control, still tonguing that same area, and then he starts to massage James’s balls with one hand. There’s a gasp, so he keeps going, his tongue flat and soft as it slides back and forth under the head of the cock.

Then James goes, “Uhhhhfffffuck--” and his cock throbs, so Steve stops.

“Uh!” James grunts. His cock jerks and pulses and leaks everywhere, and he breathes hard and fast, but he doesn’t come.

Steve pauses to catch his breath and wipe his mouth. He takes a drink and tries to center himself, and then he goes back to it. He works James back up the same way, agonizingly slow, tongue soft and barely moving on the underside of the head, and his fingers rolling the guy’s balls, soft and easy. It doesn’t take long to get him back to where he was, and there’s a groan, and then--

“Fuck!” James bites out harshly. “Ah yes, yes, don't stop don't stop...

Steve stops, and James shouts. He shouts a couple of times, no words, and his cock is flushed so dark and his balls are drawn up tight, and Steve might come on the spot because when James is done shouting he starts to whimper.

“Please,” he chokes, almost like he’s gonna cry, “please let me come, please, please, fuck...”

At first, Steve takes no pity on him, long slow licks under the head and nothing more. But when his breath hitches and he starts to let out these incredibly sexy high moans, Steve decides it’s time. He increases the pressure and speed with his tongue, rewarded instantly with a stream of precome and James’s cock jumping.

“Oh fuck, yes, do it, please, please baby--”

Steve gives another couple of firm licks and then he moves lightning-fast to take him right down, swirling his tongue and sucking hard. There’s a broken grunt, and James cries out “Augh!” and he comes, hot and rushing into Steve’s throat. The wall shakes, and Steve relaxes his face and lets James thrust hard into his mouth. There’s so much come, and Steve swallows everything as best he can, moaning his appreciation back at James.

When it’s mostly over, he takes the cock deep into his throat just to feel the aftershocks. James hisses and pulls back, and Steve grasps his gorgeous, softening cock and cleans it up with his tongue. He’s so turned on he’s spacey, barely functioning from how hard he is. James takes a long time to get himself together, but Steve hardly notices.

When James leaves, Steve doesn’t even get off his knees. He just sticks his lubed-up hand in his pants and fists himself right there on the floor. He squeezes his eyes shut and tastes James on his lips, and he replays that wrecked voice over and over in his head, please, baby, please, baby…

He comes so hard thinking about that voice.

His phone pings while he’s still catching his breath. He has to wipe his hands before he can check it.

holy shit you fucking evil bastard

haha you liked that?

you teased the fuck out of me


no it was
I mean I told you I like it
but seriously I can barely fucking walk right now

Steve doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he turns off the screen and starts to clean up. He’s still high as shit from the whole thing. His body is tingly and his brain is fuzzy; he almost feels like he wants to come again. He’s about to get in the shower when his phone pings one more time.

So u avail next week?

Yeah. Sat at 3?

Yes. Thanks.

Hey if you’re gonna come every week we could make it a standing appointment in that timeslot

Yeah ok


See you then

no you won’t

haha yeah




Chapter Text

Nothing in Steve’s life can possibly ever be straightforward, so of course he runs into Hot James on the subway a few weeks later.

They’ve had a couple more appointments in the interim. Steve’s perfecting his method, now that he knows what really gets James going, and his experiments have paid off with a lot of sexy moaning and some more begging and a fucking ton of bodily fluids. He hasn’t made James scream yet, but he’s had a great time trying. He’s also jerked off like 80 times just thinking about it. He’s so obsessed with the guy, it’s literally unhealthy.

And now, right across the aisle on the Q train, there he is.

Steve’s bundled up with a giant scarf and a coffee because it’s January, and he’s barely awake because it’s like 7am and he had to catch a bunch of trains out to goddamn Harlem to see a design client in their office. Who needs an in-person meeting these days? Why couldn’t they use Skype like normal people? These are questions Steve didn’t think to ask three weeks ago when he agreed to the whole thing, and he’s so pissed and sleep-deprived that he almost yells “FUCK” out loud when he glances up and that stupidly pretty face is directly in his line of sight.

Steve immediately ducks his head down behind his scarf and peeks over the rim of his coffee cup. He’s only ever seen James’s face on the CCTV camera, but he’d recognize it anywhere. In person, the handsomeness is a whole lot fucking better. Slash worse. James is dressed like a hobo, as usual, but Steve doesn’t judge, and nothing can hide how good-looking he is. Look at his jawline. Look at his thighs, fucking hell. He’s just sitting on the subway doing absolutely nothing, and it’s entirely ruining Steve’s life.

After a few seconds, Steve realizes that he doesn’t have to hide his face--James has never seen it. He relaxes a little, but only a little; the proximity alone is making him nervous. He’s like, sweaty, all of a sudden. And his stomach is queasy. Ugh.

He tries not to stare like a creep. It would be embarrassing to be caught staring at a gorgeous man even if Steve hadn’t anonymously sucked his dick before. Lots of times. Maybe 25 times. Oh, God, shut up, brain. He squeezes his eyes shut and gives himself a very stern talking to, reminding himself that it’s impolite to think about a person’s dick when you’re sitting across the aisle from them in public. And it’s certainly gross to fantasize about how a person’s face might look while they’re experiencing an orgasm, especially in public, especially if they don't know who you are.

When he looks back up, Hot James is munching absently on a chocolate chip cookie and he’s reading a paperback. Steve spends about one second being mad at how cute he looks, and then he realises the dude is reading an Isaac Asimov novel, and he gets even madder because couldn’t he be reading something off-putting? Couldn’t he be reading Atlas Shrugged or the New York Post or something terrible like that, just to be a little less perfect and hot? Of course not, he has to be sitting on the subway with his hair and his big shoulders, looking all soft and eating cookies and reading Steve’s favourite writer of all time. He can’t tell from the angle which book it is, and he’s squinting to try and see the title on the spine, when Hot James lifts his eyes and catches him watching.

Steve jumps a little, and hides his face by taking a huge gulp of coffee. He stares hard at the subway door for a minute or two. When he finally sneaks a look back, Hot James is reading again. He’s finished his cookie. Steve wants to sit on his lap.

Then he looks up, again, and they make eye contact, again, and Steve is seriously about to die because this is so awkward. He looks away hastily and tries to concentrate on his coffee. Fuck his life, he can't help the blushing.

They ride like that for a bunch more stops, and Steve manages to avoid eye contact until James gets off at Union Square. Steve’s sitting in a real good position to watch as he leaves. As he suspected: James has a great ass.




Steve has a long few days, with a big deadline looming on Friday. He gets everything done on time, but by Saturday he’s just tired and tense and ready to let off some steam. He takes his other clients as usual. He thinks about edging them, but for some reason it doesn’t seem appealing. He does a good job, like he always does, and it’s really hot, but he can’t help how distracted he is. He just can’t wait for 3 o’clock.

At 2.50 he gets a text, and his heart sinks.

I’m not gonna make it today

Guess I’ll see you next week

He throws the phone on the counter and scowls. He knows he’s being a dick, but fuck. He is so disappointed. He’s actually hurt, which is beyond stupid. He doesn’t expect a reply, and he’s stompily putting away his supplies when his phone startles him.

I’m sorry
I’ll still pay you
I get anxiety and shit and I can't always get out of the house

Oh, god. Steve facepalms and feels like a total asshole. Like, this is by no means the first time a guy has done this to him. It’s a glory hole. Dudes cancel on him all the time. Not a single one has ever apologized, and he’s never been mad about it before, and now here’s this guy saying sorry and telling him about his anxiety? He sighs and texts back.

omg don’t apologize
it’s none of my business

I'm sorry about the other week too
I didn’t mean to waste your time
just some days I can’t handle elevators

Fucking hell. Who is this guy? Who goes out of their way to be nice to the fuckhole they visit once a week?

It’s seriously fine.
r u ok?


good to hear

visiting you helps with that
but if I can’t even make it to your place I’m kinda fucked

helps with what?

oh. helps with the anxiety

it does?

yeah. stress relief and positive touch and shit


you’re part of my therapy plan

r u fucking serious

haha kinda

well yeah I’d have to charge more if it were official

haha, maybe my insurance would cover it then

lol if only
“positive touch” is a good one, I should put that on my business cards

you wouldn’t be lying
I never came that hard before in my life
I could ride an elevator all day after that

Steve laughs and throws his phone on the counter. He puts away his supplies and washes his hands. Then, for distraction, he starts washing the lunch dishes in his sink.

This is new territory. He never interacts much with his clients, especially since he started operating out of his home. The only ones whose real names he knows are the ones he knew in college, when he was blowing dudes in public restrooms and occasionally doing more that that in other people’s places. Wade’s the only one he speaks to socially, and he doesn’t even know how that got started. The dude just started chatting to him one day - while Steve was going down on him - and now they’re friends.

He’s always liked having a barrier between him and the guys when he’s blowing them. It’s the whole point! He doesn’t have to feel self-conscious about his body, and he can get off without having to feel attracted to whoever it is he’s sucking. He makes a point of keeping any correspondence strictly business.

His phone pings again.

I’m really mad I couldn’t get out
I’ve been looking forward to it all week

Oh, god. This is bad. Steve should not be this glowy from one little compliment from a complete fucking stranger. He knows he’s making a stupid decision even as he types his reply.

oh yeah?
I've been looking forward to it too

Haha sure

I'm serious


For real
Do u have any idea how good ur dick is

Haha what

I love sucking cock and I'm not picky but trust me
u have an AMAZING dick

thank you?

Sorry if that's weird

No its ok
well maybe a little weird

U mustve heard that before tho
Like pls tell me I'm not the first person to appreciate that thing ffs

Haha ok maybe not the first

I was about to get mad
Bc it is exceptional
And I would fuckin know


I could write poems about it
You fuckin bet I was looking forward to it

Well it's good to know you're getting something out of it too
Like it's not a chore for you

uh no it is 100% not a chore

You really like it huh


You're really good at it

Huh. Steve can see where this is probably going, and he likes it so so much. He dries his hands and puts the dish towel over his shoulder so he can text quicker.

At first I thought u weren’t into it

What? Why?

U never really reacted much
Or at all

I was in the army. You have to keep it quiet

Oh right

I just got used to it, so now i’m always quiet
Except with you

That’s hot

I can’t help making noise when you tease me like that
Your mouth is so

Oh shit, this is totally happening. Steve throws the dish towel in the general direction of the counter and vaults over the back of the couch to his bedroom. Once he's slammed the door and settled back on the bed with a box of Kleenex and his good lube, he checks his phone again.

Is that ok for me to say

yes definitely

I dont want to make you uncomfortable

Buddy trust me it's ok
I am so turned on right now

You are?


There’s a pause in the typing, so Steve opens his pants and lubes up his hand and strokes himself, picturing that delicious dick. He’s already so worked up. This isn’t going to take long.

His phone pings again.

I don’t know what to say lol
I’ve never done this before

Shit, this guy is adorable. Steve fumbles about, trying to reply with one hand while jerking off with the other.

Just tell me what ur doing
And what u want
Are u hard?

I’m busting out of my shorts

Oh, god. Steve can absolutely picture that. Fuck.

Touch yourself

I am

that dick is so pretty
I want it

What do you want

I want ur huge dick in my mouth

You take it so good

What do u want me to do

There’s a good long pause before the three dots show up to indicate that James is typing. Steve moves his hand faster. He’s getting close.

I want you to tease me

Fuck yeah
I can do that
I can suck u fast right to the brink and then stop just before u cum

fuck yes
You drive me crazy

You ever been edged like that by anyone else?

Steve doesn’t know why he asks that, and he doesn’t know why the reply makes his cock throb and his stomach muscles clench up tight.

Just you

Steve just manages to type out--

I’m gonnacum

--and strokes himself fast, and when he gets the reply--

Fucj me too

--he lets go with a punched-out groan and shoots, messily, repeatedly, all up his shirt.

He catches his breath eventually and checks his phone with his clean hand. There’s nothing there.

Did u cum

Did you

Yeah i came really good


On my chest

Want to lick it all up

Asdafdfjk jesus christ ur dirty

Haha sorry
How old are you dude?

I’m 27

Got worried that you were underage
I was thinking maybe I should go yell at Wade

Haha no perfectly legal

you text like a teenager

FU I do not


Why bc I use acronyms? lol ok old man

I’m two years older than you

And yet u text like a dad smdh

Shaking MY damn head

omg u googled that didn’t u


lol yes u did

Shut up


I know that one

Everybody knows that one

I guess I missed out on learning textspeak
I was busy on my 3 tours of Afghanistan, not a lot of time for socializing

Oh fuck
I didn’t mean 2 be a dick


oh u dick r u messing with me


fuck u


u weren’t even in the army were u

no that part is true


but I choose to text using correct spelling because I’m an adult
not because I missed my youth

I’m an adult!

sure you are smdh

Oh look at u learning
I’m so proud





Steve goes out with friends that night, and it’s fun but his mind is still on the extremely good sexting session he had with his extremely pretty client, so he’s like, horny but distracted all night and he goes home alone. He spends all of Sunday hungover as hell and cursing himself for getting talked into tequila shots on an empty stomach. He still feels like shit on Monday, but he powers through it because he’s got a ton of work and it’s all deadlines, still, and he can’t afford to fuck it up. It’s the same again on Tuesday, and his major design client is being a total ass, and the project is really tricky and he doesn’t drag himself away from the computer until after nine. It’s only then he realises he has no food in the place. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast. He’s out of milk too, and he can’t have coffee without milk, and he can’t function without coffee, so he schleps himself to the bodega and grabs milk and a couple of loaves of bread and comes home and makes grilled cheese at goddamn 11pm, and fuck he’s just so bored and tired and what is even the point of a day like this….

His phone pings.

Hey, are you up?




Chapter Text

Hey, are you up?

Um, yes. Oh, yeah. Steve is so up. He was half asleep a minute ago, but he’s fucking wide awake now, and he sits up on the couch and wipes crumbs off his shirt and mutes the TV. He resolutely does not text back for a full 90 seconds.

Yeah, hey

I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy

I’m not busy

This might be weird
But I’m having a shitty week and I’m not coming to you until Saturday and I was just wondering

The three little dots start and stop, start and stop. Steve frowns a little--what is James trying to ask? Steve knows he’s loosening some boundaries around this guy, and he shouldn’t be. But he never opens the glory hole on weekdays. He learned the hard way how some guys can react when you treat them a little different than the rest or make them feel too special. He’s had plenty of guys get too aggressive about trying to cross the professional line, especially when he was doing face-to-face stuff in college. It’s half the reason he started the glory hole--he controls access. He doesn’t show his face, and he treats all his clients the same. The no-weekdays thing is a rule that’s helped keep things drama-free--no special appointments, no exceptions.

Still, he can’t help feeling a little let-down when he types out:

I don’t do appointments during the week.

No, not that
Shit, I didn’t mean that, I just wondered if you could talk
I mean chat again
Like before
I’m sorry if this isn’t ok, you can say no

Steve lets out a big breath. This is okay. Phone stuff seems okay. Maybe, it’s, like, objectively a terrible idea, but they've already crossed the sexting bridge, and Steve does feel better knowing James isn’t trying to wheedle his way into an impromptu visit. And god, he’s even shy about it. It’s so cute.

It’s okay
That’s cool
U liked that the other day?


Me too

Steve settles into the pillows. He rubs himself through his sweatpants and thinks about James’s dick in the glory hole, getting hard and hot under his fingertips. He moans a little, and he remembers James moaning like that, and then suddenly Steve has a really good idea.

I could call u

There’s pause of like, maybe 3-seconds before the three little dots show up. But it feels like so much longer, because Steve is suddenly super nervous, and also horny as fuck.


Oh, god. This is going to be so good.

hang on

Steve scrambles into his bedroom because no way is he doing this on his couch, and his lube and kleenex and everything are there, and when he’s settled on the bed in his underwear, he thumbs his phone on and presses Call before he can think about it any more.

His heart is thumping so hard.

There’s the sound of the dial tone, and then he hears a throat clearing. “Uh, hey.”

Steve is actually sweating and breathing shallow from adrenaline. Or arousal--maybe both? What does it matter--oh shit say something--

“Hi,” he says. “Um, how’s it going?” He hears how inane he sounds and lets out a little snort. “Sorry.”

James laughs through his nose. “It’s fine. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Um…” Wow. Steve forgot he’s never really spoken to James. He was already pretty self-conscious, despite having done this before. Now he feels weirdly out of his depth.

“I appreciate you doing this,” James says, and his voice is totally sexy even when he’s just making small talk. “I’m kinda going out of my mind a little.”

“What’s wrong?” Steve says.

“Just a bad few days. Haven’t been able to get out much. I, uh…” James breaks off and laughs again, “I can’t stop thinking about the other day, which isn’t helping.”

Steve smiles. “You mean with me?”

“Yeah,” James says, his voice low. “With you.”

Steve has been half-hard for a while, but hearing James say that really starts to get him places. He palms his dick through his boxers and lets out a slow breath. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Yeah, I did. Um, are you…” James trails off. “Are you jerking off?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “A little.” He sighs. “How’re you doing?”

“Yeah, I’m--I’m getting there,” James says. “Feels good.”

“Mhm, I bet it does,” Steve says. “I want to wrap my lips around you.”

James makes a little “oh” sound, and hums, and for a moment neither of them say anything. Steve closes his eyes and concentrates on his hardening dick.


“What do you like?” James says.


“What do you want me to do?”

Steve squints at the ceiling, taken aback. Literally nobody has ever asked him that before.

“Um,” he says.

“Do you like having your dick sucked?” James rumbles.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut and breathes, “Uh-huh.”

“Do you want me to suck you?”

“Uh-huh,” he says again, and this time there’s a lot more of a whine in his voice.

“Come on,” James whispers. “Tell me how you like it, honey.”

Oh, jesus fuck. Steve arches his back and pumps his fist. And then--fuck it, this is a fantasy, right? He’s allowed to say this shit even if there’s no hope of it ever happening for real. So he takes a deep breath and says it.

“I want your hands on me,” he says in a breathy rush, “all over. I want you to touch me everywhere, baby, please, please...”

It startles him to hear himself beg.

But James makes a low noise in his throat and whispers, “Yeah, baby, I can do that.” His breathing picks up. “Want to touch you nice and slow,” he says, “get you all keyed up.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes.

“You like it when I play with your nipples?”

“Fuck. I love it.”

“Oh good, baby, I wanna do that. I wanna pinch em and lick em…”

Steve moans.

“I wanna put you in my lap and jerk you off nice and slow…”

Holy shit. Steve moans louder.

“Talk to me, honey,” James says.

“Ohhhh touch me,” Steve gasps, “touch me...” He imagines James’s hands sliding up his torso, over his chest--his hands would be so warm--and he almost feels it as he sees it behind his eyes. The sensation is almost real. He thinks of those hands moving over his chest, over his neck, into his hair. He slides his own hand up, the one not on his dick, rolling his nipple briefly before clutching at his hair and he imagines it’s James, imagines James lying over him, naked and touching him everywhere. It’s so erotic even just to think about it with James’s heavy breathing in his ear, and he’s not sure when he started wanting it but right now it’s all he wants. “Just touch me,” he moans again, “jerk me off, make me hard.”

“Yeah,” breathes the voice in his ear. “Yeah, I wanna feel you.”

Steve writhes with the pleasure of those words. He hums luxuriously. “And then let me sit on your dick.”

There’s an explosive puff of laughter through the phone, and Steve snickers even though he’s half crazy with lust. He picks up the pace.

“Wanna sit on that big monster dick, oh my god I wanna ride you like a fucking pony,” he says. “You gonna lie back and let me do that?”

“Fuck,” James says, “yes. Yes.”

“Gonna fuck myself on your pretty cock,” Steve pants, thrusting into his fist. He can hear himself gasping and is distantly surprised by how wrecked he sounds; he’s been fucking strangers for money since he was a kid and he knows how to play it up and make it sound good, but right now not a single sound he makes is fake. He's actually, truly, getting pretty close. “Oh god I want you inside me so bad...”

“Yeah,” says James, “augh, fuck, baby, ride my dick--”


“I’m getting close,” Steve says. “My dick is fucking leaking, fuck--”

“I want to hear you come,” James says, and Steve’s body surges closer to the edge because that can’t be right, shouldn’t it be the other way around? But James keeps going, in between quick, shallow breaths, “Come on, honey, let me hear you, oh fuck your voice is so sexy, talk to me, tell me how it feels--”

“Aw shit,” Steve pants, “feels so good, want you to fuck me so hard--”

“Fuck yeah--”

“Oh my god--”

“Come for me--”

“Yeah, uhh,” Steve chokes out, “yeah, oh god, uh, uh!”

He tenses and spills, gasping, and ohhh, it’s the longest, best orgasm he can remember having. His body jerks and his cock keeps shooting and he just lies there moaning and writhing and grunting over and over.

When it’s finally subsided, he collapses onto the pillows and catches his breath. He can barely move. “Holy shit,” he says to the empty room. Everything is quiet around him.

He’d dropped his phone at the end there. He pats around on the bed with his eyes still closed until he finds it, and he holds it in the general area of his ear and says, “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” James says quietly, evenly. “That sounded like it was fun.”

Steve moans languidly. “It was. It was so good.” He stretches and sighs. “It was amazing.”

Then he remembers what the fuck is happening, and feels a little bad.

“Wait...did you come?” he says. God, Steve was supposed to be getting James off, not the other way around.

“Yeah,” James says. He sounds like he’s smiling. “I came when you did.”

“Oh,” Steve says. That’s really hot, but he’s a little sad that he didn’t hear it. Then he gets another good idea. “Send me a pic?”

James laughs. There’s rustling on the line, and then his phone buzzes. Steve swipes through and brings up the image and groans. It’s a closeup of James’s dick, softening but still wet and red and thick, lying against a very muscular thigh. The area of hip and belly above it are splattered with cum.

“Oh my god,” Steve says, “shit, that’s so hot. God, thank you.”

“You gonna send me one?” James says.

Steve snaps his mouth shut. No way.

After a lengthy pause during which Steve is totally, cringingly speechless, James says, “You don’t have to…”

“Uh,” Steve says, “sorry, I kinda already cleaned up.” He grabs a tshirt and starts to actually do that.

“Okay,” James says. “Um. I guess I should get going…”

Steve tosses the tshirt at his hamper. “Yeah, me too.”

“So...thanks,” says James. “I, uh...I'll pay extra on Saturday.”

Steve's glad they're on the phone so he doesn't have to hold back his frown. He tries to keep it out of his voice when he answers.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Yep. Bye.”




They hang up.

Steve showers as usual and goes to bed, but can’t sleep. His body is exhausted and very satisfied, but he’s feeling weird as hell. He pulls up the pic that James sent him and fuck it’s so hot, but he feels bad that he has it; James is paying him for that whole thing they just did. Steve shouldn’t be asking for anything else from him. Especially when he didn’t even send a pic back.

He doesn’t delete James’s pic, though.

He’s got to be honest with himself: this is one insane crush he’s developed on this man. This stranger. Who clearly visits Steve because of the anonymity. Which Steve also values!

He knows James shouldn’t have this effect on him; guys call him baby and talk dirty and beg him for more all the time, but this is different. It’s not just when Steve’s blowing him. It’s not just because Steve’s massively turned on by him. It’s--he likes James. James is funny, and self-deprecating, and...respectful. He’s sweet. Even to a dirty cumslut whore like Steve, who nobody respects, James has never been anything but kind.

And Steve knows. Jesus christ, he knows better than to let himself get carried away in fantasies. He knows. For his clients--including James--he is nothing. Not a person; at very best a means to an end. Steve absolutely cannot afford to mistake a guy who treats him politely for someone who actually cares. He’s being completely stupid, he’s interpreting things wrong just because James is hot, and he needs to get himself under control.

But, uggghhh. The whole situation turns him on like nothing ever has before. James is so fucking hot, and Steve can make him come so, so good. Steve knows how to make him say all sorts of gorgeous things, and it feels so amazing to hear them, even if it isn’t real. He’s lucky to have this much, really. Just hearing James’s desperate voice is enough.

It really should be enough.




Chapter Text

Steve’s phone is conspicuously quiet for the rest of the week. The few times it buzzes send his heart into his throat, only for it to plummet when it’s just a Twitter notification, or a work email, or one of his friends.

He thinks about texting James. Just to say hi. He’s not going to do it, for fuck’s sake--that would mean admitting to himself that he wants to, for a start--but he can’t help thinking about it.

He’s busy enough during the day that it’s not that big a deal. But at night, in bed, it all floats back into his consciousness: James whispering in his ear, James talking dirty, James calling him baby and sexy, James making him sweat and whine and come like a motherfucker…

He tosses and turns and tries to fight it, but every night that week he ends up caving. He jerks off looking at the dick pic James sent him, or the fuzzy photo of his face from the lobby, or re-reading their one hot text conversation. Whenever he gets to the part where James texted, “fuck yes, you drive me crazy,” Steve’s stomach flips and his dick hardens and god damn, he is in so much trouble right now.

Saturday seems to take forever to arrive, with no further contact from James. Steve has three clients booked before James is due at 3pm, and he is so fucking tempted to cancel them all. He’s off his game, he can’t concentrate; he paces the apartment and feels like he can’t breathe with how fucking nervous he is, and when his first client buzzes from the lobby he almost jumps out of his skin.

Okay. He can do this. He gets himself situated behind the wall and buzzes up Suitor #1.

He blows all three guys, one after another, and it helps him get out of his head a little. He gets them off kinda boringly, but whatever. He’s feeling okay: a lot more relaxed now, a little turned on. Like he’s warmed up for the main event.

At exactly 3pm, James buzzes up.

The couple of minutes it takes for him to arrive are the longest of Steve’s entire life. When James comes in, his footsteps seem extra loud and slow on the tiles, and when he stops in front of the hole, for a moment there’s just silence. Steve can see his hips and some of his torso through the hole--dark jeans, dark red top--and his palms pressed together tightly in front of him.

“Uh, hi,” James says.

Steve’s eyes widen. They’ve never talked before an appointment. Only ever during. “Um, hey,” he says warily.

There’s another silence, and then James shuffling his feet, and then more silence. Steve sits and waits, cringing inwardly.

“Um, I left extra money on the table,” James says. “For...for Tuesday.”

“Oh,” says Steve. “Ok, thanks.”

There’s another brief silence, during which Steve wonders if James is waiting for him to say something, which makes him start to panic, because what the hell would he say? But then, finally, he hears a zipper being lowered, and James slides his cock through the hole.

And oh, fuck, he’s half-hard already. Until now, James has never been anything but fully soft at the beginning of a BJ, and the change sends a jolt of heat through Steve’s abdomen. James has been anticipating this. He’s excited. Look at him, already halfway there without even a touch. Shit, he’s into this as much as Steve is.

Steve’s confidence returns with a rush.

He does the slow-start thing that he loves, and that James responds to so fucking well every time. Feather-light caresses of fingertips and knuckles up James’s length, and down; the occasional stroke over his balls; watching him thicken and darken and bob to life; listening to James’s breathing hitch and puff.

It’s Steve’s favourite thing ever, that heavy breathing. It makes him tingle, and the heat in his belly glow brighter. It makes him feel so powerful, and all the awkwardness of earlier flies out of his brain. He's about to make the hottest man in the world beg. He cannot wait.

He lubes up his hands some more, then grasps James's huge, hot dick and starts to stroke it firmly. James exhales with a little moan.

It’s beautiful. But it’s so fucking weird--when they were talking on the phone, Steve had wished fervently that they could be here instead, at the glory hole where Steve could touch James again, and feel him, and make him come for real. He’s been anticipating it for days; his mouth has been watering over this appointment. But now that it’s’s stupid, but somehow, he finds himself wishing they were back on the phone, just whispering to each other in the dark.

He never talks back to his clients when they speak to him--usually his mouth’s too full, anyway. But that phone call was so fucking good, and right now Steve still has the use of his voice for a few more minutes, so he uses it while he can. “God, look at you,” he breathes, loud enough to be heard.

There’s silence from the other side of the wall, but Steve doesn’t wait for a reply. He brings his lips to the head of James’s cock and kisses it, slowly, once, then watches the throbbing and hears James exhale hard.

“Oh, that’s so fucking hot,” Steve says.

“Your mouth feels so good,” James whispers back.

Steve stifles a groan and rubs his own dick, just a bit. He kisses James’s cock in a slightly different spot, his lips wet, his tongue swiping out just at the end.

James thrusts his hips a little, chasing after Steve, and then moans when Steve moves away from him again.

“Stay still,” Steve says, “let me do this right, okay?”

Two breathes, then-- “I’ll try.”

Steve starts jacking him again, slow as hell, and really gently, stopping after every few strokes to keep James off balance. James’s cock is fully hard, thick, leaking, exactly how Steve loves it, and he leans in to use his lips every once in a while--he just can’t resist.

James moans really loud, suddenly. “Oh, god,” he moans, “I fucking missed this.”

The heat glows low in Steve’s belly and he smiles, and he wishes James could see it. “Me too,” he says, really softly. He’s not sure if James could hear.

He can’t wait anymore, so he shuffles a little closer to the wall and starts to use his mouth, slipping it over James’s cockhead and down, lightly at first, just a wet slide and nothing more. After a few passes he adds in a little suction, and then a little more, and then he starts taking him deeper, faster, swirling his tongue and bobbing his head and listening to James fall to pieces on the other side of the wall.

“Holy--fffuck me, that’s--uhhh, yeah,” James is panting, “yeah baby...uh, jesus...” He keeps talking in between heavy breaths, and Steve is floating in the sweet spot, sucking him off hard and fast and listening so he’ll know when it’s coming, waiting for him to get just a little higher--

“Ah! Oh fuck!” James says, and before Steve can pull off, James’s dick disappears from the hole entirely. He pants loudly but doesn’t say anything.

Steve wipes his mouth. He looks through the hole but he can’t see where James is standing. “You okay?” he says.

“Yeah,” says James. “Sorry.” He inhales and blows it out slowly. “Just--give me a sec.”

“Okay,” says Steve, grinning.

It’s amazing, this thing that Steve’s discovered--he can hold James exactly where he wants him just by listening to his voice and paying attention to his dick. He can make him say the filthiest shit, and the sweetest. He can make him whimper and whine and growl and beg for more. And he's going to.

He takes James up two more times, to that high, swirling point just before he’s about to blow his load, and James gasps and moans and talks dirty and thumps the wall but he doesn’t come. Steve holds him back.

After the third time, James groans and says, “Oh god...I wanna fuck you so bad...”

Steve fucking screams inside his head. His heart pounds and his cock goes rock-hard in his pants. He knows it's just heat-of-the-moment nonsense, and James can’t mean it, but still: holy shit.

He bobs his head faster. He takes James all the way up to the peak again, and stops at exactly the right time to make him yell. He wonders how long James will let him stay at it. His jaw hurts but there's no way he's ready to quit.

They're on the way up a fourth time, Steve deepthroating him mercilessly, when James blurts out,

“I wanna see you.”

Steve’s rhythm falters and he nearly chokes. He pulls halfway off James.

“Please,” James gasps, “oh my god, please let me see you, please baby, oh fuck…”

The ember that’s been glowing in Steve’s belly suddenly ignites, consuming every inch of him in a second, and he doesn’t even hesitate. Keeping his mouth around James’s cockhead, he reaches out with a shaking hand to slide back the lock that fastens the false wall to the real one, and rolls the corner forward a few inches.

Then James’s dick disappears from the hole, and a split second later the wall gets yanked back on its casters and then he’s there, striding towards Steve and reaching for him. Steve gets a split second to take him in – all at once, no longer a blur on a security feed or a disembodied cock or a dark voice in his ear, but all of him, all his height and power and the way he moves, graceful even with his jeans pushed open on his hips. Two long strides forward and he reaches out, puts his hand on Steve’s face, and then their eyes lock and the heat flares inside Steve again.

James is panting heavily and he doesn’t mess around, grabbing Steve by the hair and dragging him forward onto his dick. They both moan together as he slides his cock down Steve’s throat, and once he’s deep he waits just a second before he moves back a little and begins to fuck Steve’s face for real.

It’s fast, deep and brutal. Steve fucking takes it, savoring the feeling of him, taking him as well as he knows how. He looks up so he can watch him; he's definitely keeping his eyes open for this. He’s finally got the chance to see James come, and he’s not missing that chance for anything.

He didn’t anticipate, though, that James would keep his eyes open. Even as he pants and grunts and fucks Steve’s throat he doesn’t look away, barely blinks, staring down into Steve’s eyes with this blazing expression and oh god Steve forgot how good eye contact is, it’s so fucking good he’s on fire, and he can’t speak with his mouth stuffed full so he moans up at James to tell him how good it is. This is the hottest thing that’s ever happened. To anyone. And it’s happening to Steve.

“Baby,” James gasps, “oh honey, look at you.” He slows his thrusting and cups Steve’s face with the hand that isn’t holding his hair. His chest is rising and falling rapidly. “Fuck that's hot,” he says. “You’re incredible, baby, you look so perfect like this.”

Steve wants to tell him how perfect he looks, how incredible. How Steve is about to bust in his pants just from sucking his beautiful cock. Instead he just leans back and relaxes his throat so James can go even deeper. He must be so close, Steve knows. He’s been right on the edge forever.

And--yep. “Oh,” James says suddenly, urgently. He moans and fucks faster into Steve’s throat. “Ohh, holy fuck. Oh, god,” and Steve feels him pulse. He cries out, “I’m gonna come!” and Steve hums his agreement as James’s body stiffens and his words devolve into incoherence. “Augh,” he shudders, thrusting quick and deep, “augh, augh, fuck,” and he curls his body over Steve and comes forever, and Steve watches him and swallows around him.

James is still panting loud, still bent over Steve’s head, still got a hand in Steve’s hair when Steve pulls back and lets James’s cock slip out of his mouth. He sits back, and looks up to see James straighten up and run his hands through his own hair, eyes closed, chest heaving. He’s gorgeous. Up close, James’s raw fucking beauty is shocking, and Steve watches in awe. Then James opens his eyes and looks down at him.

Steve’s heart thumps with something like fear. The reality of the situation rushes in on him like a cold wind. This is all wrong. Clients aren’t supposed to see him. He’s shirtless, only wearing an old pair of jogging shorts, fuck. He wraps his arms around his body and hunches his shoulders.

James’ chest is still heaving and his eyes roam over Steve’s face, then trail down his body slowly. The expression on his face is slightly surprised--Steve can only imagine what James had expected him to look like, but he’s sure it wasn’t short and pale and skinny like a kid--

But then James’s eyes land on Steve’s crotch, where he’s still got a massive boner tenting his shorts. Steve wants to die.

He tries to will his dick down. But the thrill of what just happened is still so strong, and James is a fucking brick shithouse up close which is really doing things for him. And okay, to be honest the eye contact right now is also very hot--James has such an intense stare. He keeps looking from Steve's face to his dick, and he’s panting and sweaty and enormous and he hasn't moved to leave yet, and there will never be a hotter human in Steve’s apartment with his pants open so Steve thinks oh, fuck it. He sits up a little straighter and looks James in the eye and grabs his own dick through his shorts.

He has an okay dick, bigger than people usually expect because he’s so short. He grips it at the base to show James how hard he is. Then he gives himself a tug.

James makes a low noise, almost like a fucking growl, and Steve wants to pass out when he hears it but instead he just inhales shakily and strokes himself a couple more times--

James drops to his knees and shoves Steve onto his back.

There’s a few seconds of silent tussling as Steve gets his legs out from under him and James wrestles to yank Steve’s shorts down his thighs. Steve gasps when James grips his cock and starts stroking him, fast and steady and firm. James’s face is really close and his eyes are huge as he watches his own hand moving over Steve’s dick. Steve starts panting and James looks up at him and nods, and oh fuck that eye contact is insane. Steve can’t handle it, he shuts his eyes, but he knows James is still right there--he can feel his breath on his face, his big hard body sprawled out against Steve’s.

Steve moans, and James says “yeah,” and his hand speeds up.

“Oh fuck,” Steve pants, “I’m close.”

“Yeah,” James says again, in a whisper, right next to Steve’s ear. “That’s it baby, come on…”

Steve is going to come. He’s going to come so hard, he can feel it building and building and he opens his eyes and James is staring at him, so close, and the orgasm starts to crest and he grabs onto James’s arm and throws his head back--

“Fuck yeah, come for me, honey,” James says.

Steve cries out and shoots, his back arching, his fingers digging into James’s bicep. His body jerks and spasms and his fucking soul leaves his body, and it’s so good, it’s indescribable, fuck, jesus christ.

James is leaning over him, watching, and Steve grabs his head and hauls him down and kisses him messily. James returns the kiss, and he tastes amazing and uses the perfect amount of tongue. He keeps jerking Steve slowly until the aftershocks hit and he withdraws.

When Steve can feel his brain again, he opens his eyes. His dick is softening against his belly and James is stroking his hair.

He laughs. “What the fuck.”

“Is this okay?” James says.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, and stretches. “It’s nice.”

James smiles and leans over him again, nudging at Steve’s cheek with his nose.

Suddenly Steve panics. How the fuck is this happening? His brain can’t process it, and he pulls away. “Um,” he says stupidly. “I shouldn't have done that. I don’t usually kiss clients.”

“Oh,” says James, and he frowns and takes his hands off of Steve. “Right.” He sits up hurriedly and starts to button his jeans. “Sorry.”

He looks--hurt. Can that be right? Oh, shit, is Steve fucking this up?

Only one way to find out. Steve takes a deep breath. “I mean, I only kiss people I’m dating!” he says in a rush.

James nods without looking. “That’s cool.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “I mean,” says Steve, reaching out and putting his hand on James’s arm, “if you want to kiss me, you could ask me out on a date.”

James raises his head. “Oh.” He smiles. “I can--do you want to go on a date? With me?”

Steve grins. How the hell is this his life?





James takes him on a date that night, and Steve lets James kiss him. A lot.

The next day, they stay in at Steve’s place. They order Thai food and watch TV, and afterward Steve spends several very pleasant hours showing James how to make him scream.

Turns out, he's really good at it.