ROK Fic: A Close Shave - Part 1/2, Live Free or Die Hard, John/Matt, FRAO
Title: A Close Shave - Part 1/2
Author: CPWatcher
Fandom: Live Free or Die Hard
Pairing: John McClane/Matt Farrell
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating: FRAO
Prompt: John gives Matt a close shave
Kink: manscaping nether regions
Prompter: particlesofgale
For: Rounds of Kink, Round Five, Day Two
Author's Note: So there were these really wonderful prompts for LFODH by particlesofgale and I just *HAD*to use them. This is the prequel to Did Tennessee What Arkansas? and Can You Hear Me Now?, sort of a 'how they got there' story.
A Close Shave - Part 1/2
Hero-fucking-worship. Happens all the time.
John McClane was used it. With all the shit he’d been through, all the lives he’d saved, he was used to people fawning over him, star-struck. After the Nakatomi Towers incident, two secretaries at Holly’s job constantly pushed themselves on him anytime he’d visit. Hell, even Holly joined the bandwagon for a little while. It had been the best sex between them in over a year.
Funny how a thing like saving someone’s life makes you more attractive.
So McClane wasn’t surprised when the Kid, Farrell, wanted the other bed in his hospital room. And he wasn’t surprised when the Kid all but begged to have his physical therapy at the same time as John’s. It was just hero worship ---with maybe a side of ‘I’m scared somebody’s out there ready to kill me still’ clinging--- But hell, McClane liked Matt, so he just let it go.
John even listened to the Kid’s request to stay at his place while he recuperated. Matt’s first plea had been because his own place was blown to hell. His second was that he’d be closer to the physical therapist at John’s apartment. His next entreaty was that they could help each other out, what with John’s bad arm and his bad leg. Matt’s final appeal was that John wouldn’t have to eat alone. Grumbling, John had agreed.
Day three of their new rooming arrangement and John knew he had a problem. He busted his own chops for not putting a stop to it sooner. It wasn’t simply hero worship. The Kid had a hard-on for him, a fucking man-crush. And it was a big one, if you counted all the times Matt hobbled away to whack one off each day. It wasn’t that John had been oblivious to the signs, like the way Matt looked at him during Physical Therapy when John went shirtless. Or the way the Kid nearly came in his pants the first day when John stepped out the bathroom after his shower, naked but for the towel slung over the bandage on his shoulder.
Yeah, John had seen the signs, but did nothing. Everybody needed a little attention every now and then, even John McClane. And since he wasn’t ever going to act upon Farrell’s attraction ---repressed those needs a long time ago, didn’t you, McClane--- and he knew the Kid didn’t have the balls to follow through, so John had done nothing to set him straight. ---Straight? Kid probably never been straight his entire life---
But now it was too late as the proverbial shit had hit the fan...
“Listen Kid, you don’t have to fucking leave. It’s ok. Look, I’m sorry I… I’m sorry. OK. Just put the bag down, Kid. You don’t have to leave.”
Matt hefted his quickly packed bag onto his shoulder, wincing as it shifted his weight to his bad knee.
“Yeah. Yeah I do.” Matt shouldered past John, pulling his cell phone out and speed dialing for a cab.
John started to put a hand out to stop him, but really, what would be the point. Matt had lain his cards out, and John had cut him off at the knees.
I’ve got a wife, (ex-wife), kids (who don’t talk to you), I’m a cop for fuck’s sake (you’re alone).
I’m not a fag. (Not for a long time, at least.)
He’s too young, and I’m too fucking old. (He wants you.)
It’d be too much. He’d be in over his head. (He wants what you want. He wants you to teach him. )
John watched the door to his apartment close, and Matt walk out of his life.
Matt had said Any. Damn. Way.
“FUCK!”
~~~~ one hour earlier ~~~~
John barely finished running the razor over his head, his injured shoulder hurting like a bitch, even in the sling. It was a crappy job, but he’d finally had to shave, having been out the hospital for three days now. His face still needed to be shaved, his skin felt like sandpaper.
“Kid. Hey, Kid.”
John got no answer. Matt had been at the kitchen table on his laptop, with those damn headphones on last time John had seen him. Not one to be easily deterred, John gathered up shaving cream, razor and a hand towel, and left the bathroom, intent upon getting some of those ‘help each other out’ benefits Matt conned his way into the apartment with.
Matt was still sitting in the same spot John had seen him in more than 2 hours ago, headphones on, head bobbing to some loud rock crap, fingers flying quickly over the keyboard, stopping only long enough to take a swig of that red cow shit. John placed the supplies on the counter by the sink, pushing a few cups out the way to make a large empty space.
John pulled the headphones off Matt’s head, and then hauled him from the chair. “OK, Kid. Time to work off some of that rent.”
“What? Hey? Watch that... Do you know how much those headphones cost?” Matt sputtered.
“They’re bad for your hearing,” John said, backing Matt towards the sink. “Besides, I need you to do something. Climb up there.”
John gestured towards the empty spot on the counter. Matt looked at the counter, then back at John and blinked.
“Sit on the damn counter. Come on, hurry up.”
Matt turned and braced his arms, then pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the counter.
“My shoulder hurts like a mother. Want you to finish me off,” John said as he pushed open Matt’s legs and stood between them, barely registering Matt’s quick intake of breath.
“Finish you off?” John looked at Matt, whose voice had sounded an octave too high.
“Yeah. Shave. My face. You have shaved before, right?”
Matt looked at him with a slightly ruffled expression. “Of course I have.”
“Good.” John gestured towards the razor and cream. “I can’t take one more day of this fuzz.”
John turned on the water, and then placed his hands on the outside of Matt’s thighs, leaned forward a bit, closed his eyes and waited.
After a few moments he opened his eyes to see Farrell staring back at him, his mouth opened in an odd expression.
“Come on, Kid. I don’t have all day.”
John watched long enough to see Matt pick up the shaving cream before shutting his eyes again. After a moment, he felt a tentative touch as shaving cream was applied to his jaw. Quickly, the touch became more firm and precise as the cream was applied under his nose and on his neck.
He moved his head easily to the side when Matt’s one hand directed him to. Then John felt the first smooth easy glide of the razor along his cheek.
Matt’s pace was unhurried, yet John heard several hitching breaths, and wondered what had Matt so jumpy. Opening his eyes, John saw how Matt’s pupils were completely blown. Letting his eyes drift down, John saw the erection tenting the dark gray sweat pants Matt was wearing.
Shit. What the fuck was I thinking? The Kid already beats off three times a day, just from being in the same room with me.
John closed his eyes again, pretending that he hadn’t seen Matt’s obvious arousal.
Just act like nothing’s happening.
“You know, Kid, I think I’m good. I’ll finish this up…” John began to straighten, but an arm was suddenly around his neck, and lips were on his, tongue messily seeking entrance into his mouth.
It had been so long since he’d had that kind of touch, hell any kind of touch, that John responded to the kiss without thinking, opening his mouth and sucking Matt’s tongue inside, then pushing his own tongue into Matt’s yielding mouth.
Fuck. Yeah.
John’s hand slid up Matt’s thigh on autopilot, and soon he was squeezing and kneading Matt’s cloth covered cock.
“Oh yeah, yeah, harder please,” Matt moaned, after tearing his mouth away from John’s. He started scrabbling to open his belt when John came back to his senses.
“Whoa. Hey, Kid. Wait. Stop.”
John’s hand was heavy on top of Matt’s, stilling his movements.
“Look. This is a mistake. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Hell, this can’t happen.” John’s voice was rough and raw.
Matt looked at him like he’d spoken some foreign language.
“But you kissed me. You want me.” Matt reached out towards the thick erection that was evident in McClane’s jeans. John moved back quickly, avoiding the contact.
“You’re wrong, Kid. I don’t want you. I’ve got a wife, kids. I’m a cop for fuck’s sake. I’m not a fag.”
John watched Matt flinch as if his words physically hurt him, and by the cold look in Matt eyes, he knew they did.
“Fag went out in the 90’s, asshole. It’s called being gay. And yeah, with your ex-wife and MIA kids, that just makes you bi. That steel pipe in your pants is screaming out how much you want to fuck my ass. And you know what, McClane, you could have had my ass. You could have had *me* any damn way you wanted me. Any. Damn. Way.”
Matt pushed himself off the counter, frowning at the pain that shot through his knee. He powered off his notebook and gathered up his equipment. John watched as Matt slowly stalked to his bedroom.
FUCK!
John scrubbed the towel across his face, removing the last traces of shaving cream. Throwing the towel onto the counter, John went to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer.
Fucking Kid. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. Wants me to fuck his ass. Shit. It’s not that easy. It’s not that fucking easy.
John finished off his beer and was reaching for a second when he heard Matt curse.
“Fucking superior son of a bitch. Asshole. Acts like he doesn’t fucking want to ride my ass. Well fuck you McClane.”
John walked into Matt’s room and watched as he hastily shoved his belonging into the duffle bag.
“What are you doing?” John asked.
“You’re the fucking cop. Can’t you tell? I’m leaving.”
“Listen Kid, you don’t have to fucking leave. It’s ok. Look, I’m sorry I… I’m sorry. OK. Just put the bag down, Kid. You don’t have to leave.”
“Yeah. Yeah I do.” Matt walked out the bedroom then out the front door.
“FUCK!”
~*~*~*~ To Be Continued in Part 2 ~*~*~*~