And the band began to play out of tune
So I'm going through my fic files and I just don't think these are going anywhere, and I think I need to just admit it.
B&S: Kevin meets someone from his past
Kevin’s used to guys hitting on him. He knows, objectively and subjectively, that he’s attractive, so it’s not completely unusual that someone might find him good looking enough to want to have dinner or date or possibly even sex. He’s done the dance enough times to know when someone’s attracted to him, and he’s not afraid to take advantage of it. The problems come when he starts liking someone and they stop seeing him for who he presents to the rest of the world, and start seeing who he really is.
It’s not a practiced deception, at least not intentionally. He imagines he fools himself as much as anyone he might bring home to his apartment and, eventually his family. He just can’t help it. In his life, in his real life, he has to be careful and controlled and everything he isn’t really, and that just takes over when he goes out to the bars where the people he works with go. He stays the same person until he’s at home, alone, and he realizes, as he takes off his tie, takes off his suit, that he’s taking off the persona just as much as anything else.
That changes when he meets John.
Meets might be the wrong word. He doesn’t meet him so much as collide into him in a crowded room, spilling half a glass of really good scotch on his shirt. John laughs, which is more than Kevin expects from anyone he might meet at as high profile a place as this is, and he can’t help but smile.
“You’re Kevin Walker.”
It’s a little unnerving at first, being known. Something about his smile and his voice makes Kevin take a step back. “How do you know that?”
“I used to live next door.”
The words aren’t even actually out of John’s mouth before Kevin realizes, remembers. “Oh, God. You’re John Evans.” He can see it in the eyes, though they’re not the same huge, tortured brown of the kid next door. He wasn’t really a kid even then, too old for his age, even though he was only a couple months older than Kevin. They’d been friends, or something like it, wounded soldiers sharing a foxhole in the unkindness of high school.
“I’m flattered that you remember.”
“You got…Older. Taller. Hotter.” Kevin blushes as the last word slips out, unable to believe he actually just said it. “I mean…”
“And you’re showing your family’s amazing lack of tact.” John laughs. “Come on. Let me buy you a drink to replace the one I’m wearing.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” John’s still smiling, his eyes bright in the dim light of the club. “But I’m going to. So come on.” He leads the way to a table toward the back, away from the hosts of other lawyers and businessmen. Kevin looks him over as they sit down, realizing for the first time that John’s not dressed like everyone else there. “They do let you in even if you’re not wearing a suit, you know.”
“I’m sure they do,” Kevin admits. “I’ve just never seen anyone actually test that theory.”
John stretches his legs out as he sits down, his limbs still long though he’s finally grown into them. He sprawls in his chair, loose and relaxed, making Kevin feel more uptight in comparison. “So, let me guess.” John’s smile is relaxed, disarming. “Accountant?”
“No!” Kevin imagines he looks as horrified as he sounds at the thought. “God. You think I’m an accountant.”
“It’s a really nice suit.”
“Well, yeah. But accountant?”
John laughs and holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay. I’m sorry I even suggested you might be an accountant.” He tilts his head, looking Kevin over. “Stockbroker?”
“Oh, come on.” Kevin can’t help smiling back at him. “You’re just being mean.”
“You were good at math.” John shrugs. “Determined. Smart.”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“Really.” John’s eyebrows go up. “I hate lawyers, you know.”
“You’re not the only one.” Kevin can’t help looking him over. “Does that mean you’re not going to pay for the drink?” John’s jeans are well-worn and fit him like a second skin, his shirt hinting at a slim build, muscular arms underneath.
“I guess I could give you the benefit of the doubt. You are an old friend.”
“Maybe you could have kept me from such a treacherous life path. This could be entirely your fault for moving away.”
John laughs. His eyes are as expressive as his wide mouth. The deep melted chocolate brown of his eyes are bright with amusement. “You haven’t seen me in over ten years and I’m to blame, huh?”
“Oh, I think so, absolutely.” Kevin offers him another smile as the waiter approaches them. John orders a bottle of wine after tilting a questioning glance in Kevin’s direction. Kevin nods and leans back in his seat, eyes still wandering over John. “And what do you do?”
“Not going to guess?” John’s wide, full lips spread in a teasing smile. His features were always what stuck in Kevin’s mind, everything too big and too wide for his thin face, but he’d grown into that as well. “C’mon.”
“Let’s see.” Kevin leans in, resting his chin on his hand as the waiter returns, pouring the wine. “Sports announcer.”
John laughs. “Not quite.”
“Hmm.” Kevin takes a sip of the wine. “Military?”
“I couldn’t afford your scotch if I was in the military. Try again.”
“Traveling salesman?”
“Close.” John takes a drink as well. “I’m…hmm. I’m in R&D.”
“What do you develop?”
“Bassists.”
“B…I’m sorry. Bassists?”
John laughs again. “I’m in A&R for a record company. I find fledgling bands and work with them, get them signed. That’s why I’m not a fan of lawyers.”
“But you work for the record company, right? Don’t the lawyers help them?”
“Yeah.” John takes another drink, his gaze moving over Kevin, assessing. “But the record company just pay my paycheck. I work with and for the bands. I try to get them a good deal.”
“And the lawyers don’t let you?”
“Well, it’s not always in their best interest.”
Kevin nods, running his thumb along the edge of his wine glass. “You always did love music.”
“I sort of subjected you to a lot of it against your will, huh?” John’s eyes go to Kevin’s hand, watching as he traces the slow circle. “Hopefully didn’t scar you for life or anything.”
“Nah.” Kevin lifts his glass and takes a sip. “At worst it turned me to a life of litigation.”
“Well, for that, I suppose I owe you something. Are you hungry? Or meeting someone?” John glances around the room. “I’m not impinging on a date or anything, am I?”
“No. To the impinging. Yes to the hungry.” Kevin follows his gaze, noting the increase in the crowd, the subtle shift from happy hour to meat market. “You want to stay here?”
**
Kevin sat opposite John, sliding into the booth and looking completely out of place in his suit amongst the rest of the patrons, all working off hangovers or working on a buzz, the fanciest outfit besides Kevin’s meaning non-ripped jeans. He glances around, his gaze finally settling on John. “I don’t think I’ve been here since high school.”
“I’m completely not surprised.” John pours Kevin a cup of coffee from the pot on the table. “This doesn’t really seem like your kind of place anymore.”
“Are you calling me a snob?” Kevin smiles and pours a packet of sugar into his coffee.
“Just implying that you have better taste.” John’s smile is hidden as he opens his menu. “Hungry?”
“Depends. Are you going to steal my food like you did in high school?”
“I was stoned when we met here in high school.”
Laughing again, Kevin shakes his head. “That doesn’t actually answer my question, you know.”
“Oh, so not only are you accusing me of being a thief, but you’re accusing me of being evasive, huh?” John lowers the menu, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Well, to put your mind at ease, I was a good boy tonight and I don’t have a case of the munchies. Well, beyond just being hungry.”
“So it’s safe to order then?” Kevin looks over his menu, glancing up at John now and then. “I was surprised.”
“About what?” John pauses, his coffee halfway to his lips.
“That you wanted to meet up. I figured you’d be out with the band or the groupies or something.”
“Okay, first of all, the groupies don’t care about the label guys. As for the band, I assure you that, no matter what I might tell you, I’m way too old to be cool.” He traces the rim of his coffee cup. “I’m honestly surprised that you called.”
“Really?”
“Most of the lawyers I know aren’t exactly known for partying into the wee hours of the morning.”
**
“So I do have a question.” John doesn’t look at Kevin as he swirls the last bite of his breakfast through the syrup left on his plate. “Back in high school when I was busy on the beach getting stone, what were you up to? I mean, I know what I thought you were up to.”
“Which was?”
“Well, I thought you were getting laid.”
“And what makes you think I wasn’t?”
“Well, you’re gay.”
Kevin laughs. “Yeah?”
“So?”
“So? What makes you think I wasn’t?”
John blushes. “Ah. Well. Were you?”
“Not quite. But close.”
“Who…I didn’t know anyone else was…of course, I didn’t know you were.”
“It’s okay. No one did until Danny sort of outed us both.”
“Danny. Danny who? The only Danny I remember is…” John stops, obviously shocked. “You’re shitting me.”
“Nope.”
“Holy shit.” He shakes his head in awe. “You were screwing Danny McCulloch?”
“Well, we weren’t actually screwing. More like everything but.”
“Still, that’s a pretty impressive catch for your high school romance, gay or otherwise.”
“Well, I don’t know if it was really a romance so much as we were both young, horny and relieved not to be the only freak on the block.”
“You were never a freak. Still.” John leans back, looking Kevin over. “Here I was thinking you were scoring with some hot chick and all along you were getting busy with the captain of the baseball and golf teams. And I used to think we weren’t popular.”
“We weren’t. We were easy.” Kevin laughs and pushes his plate away. “You never suspected?”
“No. But then, I don’t think any of us thought about it when we were kids.”
“I did.”
“No. I mean-” John blushes. “That’s not what I mean. I mean we didn’t talk about it back then like people do now.”
“I know what you mean.” Kevin finishes his coffee. “But weren’t you curious why I never said anything?”
“Not really. I knew you pretty well, though obviously not as well as I thought. When stuff mattered to you, you didn’t talk about it.”
“Pity my sister, Kitty, didn’t know that when she outed me to my entire family.” Kevin sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “What about you?”
“Oh, I was on the beach getting stoned, as advertised. And I maybe got lucky a time or two.”
“I was thinking something a little more current. Are you married? Dating? Still getting stoned on the beach?”
“Something like that.” John toys with the straw in his water, chasing ice cubes with it. “I was married. I date sometimes, and I usually get stoned in the privacy of my own apartment.”
“How long were you married?”
“Four years, give or take.” He glances out the window. “Long enough to love each other, long enough to hate each other. It was good and then it wasn’t, you know?”
“Yeah.” Kevin pours them both more coffee. “Do you still love her?”
“Yes. No. Sometimes.” John stirs the coffee, pouring in two packs of sugar. “I miss the parts that were good. I don’t miss the parts that were bad, and toward the end it was mostly bad parts. And sometimes, I just miss someone.”
“How long has it been?”
“Final a year and a half ago. And now I need something a lot stronger than coffee.” He smiles ruefully. “I don’t suppose you have a six-pack in the truck of your car?”
“No, but I live about a mile from here, and I have a pretty impressive bar.”
“Even better.” John grabs the check and heads for the counter. Kevin follows him, unable to keep from smiling. John doesn’t look all that different from the back, his jeans form-fitted and worn in all the right places. Kevin feels himself flush and forces his eyes away. John stops to pay and flashes him a quick smile. Kevin smiles back and waits, watching John flirt with the cashier, his voice tinted with a slight southern accent.
“You know, you haven’t changed at all.”
B&S/RP - Kevin & Dane
Kevin walks into the conference room, glancing up from his file to greet his client. “Mr…”
Dane’s dressed in a suit - Armani that fits him exactly like it should - and leaning against the table with his arms crossed over his chest. “Hello, Walker.”
Kevin glances down at the file then back up. “You’re not Mr. Asmussen.”
“Nope. Not even close.” Dane pushes off the table and moves past Kevin, locking the conference room door. Kevin turns slowly, watching Dane as he starts a sweep of the room, pausing at each window to close the blinds. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t be too keen to see me.”
“I don’t think anyone is all that keen on me seeing you.”
“And by anyone, you mean Johnny.” Dane locks the second door and moves back to Kevin, who hasn’t moved at all.
“You have to admit, he does have a valid reason.”
“Do I?” Dane stands behind Kevin and runs his fingers lightly over Kevin’s shoulders, tracing the clean line of his suit. He leans in, his breath hot on Kevin’s neck. “Are you sure?”
“We’re…we’re both married, Dane.” Kevin’s eyes close as Dane’s breath continues to ghost over his neck. “You’re his be-best friend.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with anyone else, Kevin.” Dane’s hands curve under the collar of Kevin’s suit jacket, scraping against his thin shirt as Dane guides the jacket off him. “Just you and me.”
“That’s not…” Kevin swallows hard as Dane moves away, hanging Kevin’s jacket on the back of one of the chairs at the conference table. His fingers erase any wrinkles from the fabric, and Kevin swallows hard again, his lips parting as Dane caresses the material with a deceptively light touch. “You know that’s not true.”
“You sure seem to know all the things we can’t do, the things I should know.” Dane turns to look at Kevin, his blue-gray eyes dark and hot. “Do you want to know what I know, Kevin?”
Kevin watches Dane as he moves closer. His suit catches the light like some sleek animal pelt, a panther stalking prey. Nodding slightly, Kevin licks his lips. “What?”
“I know-” Dane catches Kevin’s tie between his fingers and tugs lightly until Kevin steps toward him. He holds Kevin’s gaze as he draws him closer, close enough that Dane’s breath mingles with Kevin’s. “I know that right now we’re here, alone, and no one knows. I know that your pulse is pounding and your cock is hard for me.” Dane smiles hungrily as the fingers of his free hand trail over the bulge of Kevin’s cock through his slacks. “You know what else I know, Walker?”
Kevin swallows hard to wet his dry throat. “W-what’s that?”
Dane leans in, his voice hot in Kevin’s ear, rough and promising. “I know I promised to spank that tight ass of yours so hard you’d see stars.” Dane’s laugh rumbles down Kevin’s spine. “You remember that?”
Kevin’s breath shudders and his eyes threaten to close as Dane’s fingers slide along his cock, shifting so that his palm settles over Kevin’s length. “D-Dane.”
“That’s right, Walker. Did you miss the feel of me? Miss my hands on you?” He squeezes lightly and Kevin groans, the sound low and thick. Dane leans closer, his teeth grazing Kevin’s throat. “My mouth?”
“Fuck,” Kevin groans again, thrusting against the pressure of Dane’s hand. “Dane.”
Dane’s mouth and teeth continue teasing Kevin’s neck as the hand on his tie hooks behind the knot and tugs it loose. “You want that, Kevin? Bend you over my knee and punish you? You want my hands on you? My mouth on you?” He bites sharply and Kevin’s hips jerk hard. “You want my dick in you, Kevin?”
“G-God, Dane.” Kevin’s voice breaks and Dane takes advantage of the moment to kiss him, his mouth hard and hungry on Kevin’s. Kevin’s hands go to Dane’s jacket, pushing it aside to find the warm fabric of his shirt underneath. Dane doesn’t dress up often, and the knowledge of the darkly tanned skin and tattooed lines of ink hidden beneath the fine tailoring
B&S: Kevin meets someone from his past
Kevin’s used to guys hitting on him. He knows, objectively and subjectively, that he’s attractive, so it’s not completely unusual that someone might find him good looking enough to want to have dinner or date or possibly even sex. He’s done the dance enough times to know when someone’s attracted to him, and he’s not afraid to take advantage of it. The problems come when he starts liking someone and they stop seeing him for who he presents to the rest of the world, and start seeing who he really is.
It’s not a practiced deception, at least not intentionally. He imagines he fools himself as much as anyone he might bring home to his apartment and, eventually his family. He just can’t help it. In his life, in his real life, he has to be careful and controlled and everything he isn’t really, and that just takes over when he goes out to the bars where the people he works with go. He stays the same person until he’s at home, alone, and he realizes, as he takes off his tie, takes off his suit, that he’s taking off the persona just as much as anything else.
That changes when he meets John.
Meets might be the wrong word. He doesn’t meet him so much as collide into him in a crowded room, spilling half a glass of really good scotch on his shirt. John laughs, which is more than Kevin expects from anyone he might meet at as high profile a place as this is, and he can’t help but smile.
“You’re Kevin Walker.”
It’s a little unnerving at first, being known. Something about his smile and his voice makes Kevin take a step back. “How do you know that?”
“I used to live next door.”
The words aren’t even actually out of John’s mouth before Kevin realizes, remembers. “Oh, God. You’re John Evans.” He can see it in the eyes, though they’re not the same huge, tortured brown of the kid next door. He wasn’t really a kid even then, too old for his age, even though he was only a couple months older than Kevin. They’d been friends, or something like it, wounded soldiers sharing a foxhole in the unkindness of high school.
“I’m flattered that you remember.”
“You got…Older. Taller. Hotter.” Kevin blushes as the last word slips out, unable to believe he actually just said it. “I mean…”
“And you’re showing your family’s amazing lack of tact.” John laughs. “Come on. Let me buy you a drink to replace the one I’m wearing.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” John’s still smiling, his eyes bright in the dim light of the club. “But I’m going to. So come on.” He leads the way to a table toward the back, away from the hosts of other lawyers and businessmen. Kevin looks him over as they sit down, realizing for the first time that John’s not dressed like everyone else there. “They do let you in even if you’re not wearing a suit, you know.”
“I’m sure they do,” Kevin admits. “I’ve just never seen anyone actually test that theory.”
John stretches his legs out as he sits down, his limbs still long though he’s finally grown into them. He sprawls in his chair, loose and relaxed, making Kevin feel more uptight in comparison. “So, let me guess.” John’s smile is relaxed, disarming. “Accountant?”
“No!” Kevin imagines he looks as horrified as he sounds at the thought. “God. You think I’m an accountant.”
“It’s a really nice suit.”
“Well, yeah. But accountant?”
John laughs and holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay. I’m sorry I even suggested you might be an accountant.” He tilts his head, looking Kevin over. “Stockbroker?”
“Oh, come on.” Kevin can’t help smiling back at him. “You’re just being mean.”
“You were good at math.” John shrugs. “Determined. Smart.”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“Really.” John’s eyebrows go up. “I hate lawyers, you know.”
“You’re not the only one.” Kevin can’t help looking him over. “Does that mean you’re not going to pay for the drink?” John’s jeans are well-worn and fit him like a second skin, his shirt hinting at a slim build, muscular arms underneath.
“I guess I could give you the benefit of the doubt. You are an old friend.”
“Maybe you could have kept me from such a treacherous life path. This could be entirely your fault for moving away.”
John laughs. His eyes are as expressive as his wide mouth. The deep melted chocolate brown of his eyes are bright with amusement. “You haven’t seen me in over ten years and I’m to blame, huh?”
“Oh, I think so, absolutely.” Kevin offers him another smile as the waiter approaches them. John orders a bottle of wine after tilting a questioning glance in Kevin’s direction. Kevin nods and leans back in his seat, eyes still wandering over John. “And what do you do?”
“Not going to guess?” John’s wide, full lips spread in a teasing smile. His features were always what stuck in Kevin’s mind, everything too big and too wide for his thin face, but he’d grown into that as well. “C’mon.”
“Let’s see.” Kevin leans in, resting his chin on his hand as the waiter returns, pouring the wine. “Sports announcer.”
John laughs. “Not quite.”
“Hmm.” Kevin takes a sip of the wine. “Military?”
“I couldn’t afford your scotch if I was in the military. Try again.”
“Traveling salesman?”
“Close.” John takes a drink as well. “I’m…hmm. I’m in R&D.”
“What do you develop?”
“Bassists.”
“B…I’m sorry. Bassists?”
John laughs again. “I’m in A&R for a record company. I find fledgling bands and work with them, get them signed. That’s why I’m not a fan of lawyers.”
“But you work for the record company, right? Don’t the lawyers help them?”
“Yeah.” John takes another drink, his gaze moving over Kevin, assessing. “But the record company just pay my paycheck. I work with and for the bands. I try to get them a good deal.”
“And the lawyers don’t let you?”
“Well, it’s not always in their best interest.”
Kevin nods, running his thumb along the edge of his wine glass. “You always did love music.”
“I sort of subjected you to a lot of it against your will, huh?” John’s eyes go to Kevin’s hand, watching as he traces the slow circle. “Hopefully didn’t scar you for life or anything.”
“Nah.” Kevin lifts his glass and takes a sip. “At worst it turned me to a life of litigation.”
“Well, for that, I suppose I owe you something. Are you hungry? Or meeting someone?” John glances around the room. “I’m not impinging on a date or anything, am I?”
“No. To the impinging. Yes to the hungry.” Kevin follows his gaze, noting the increase in the crowd, the subtle shift from happy hour to meat market. “You want to stay here?”
**
Kevin sat opposite John, sliding into the booth and looking completely out of place in his suit amongst the rest of the patrons, all working off hangovers or working on a buzz, the fanciest outfit besides Kevin’s meaning non-ripped jeans. He glances around, his gaze finally settling on John. “I don’t think I’ve been here since high school.”
“I’m completely not surprised.” John pours Kevin a cup of coffee from the pot on the table. “This doesn’t really seem like your kind of place anymore.”
“Are you calling me a snob?” Kevin smiles and pours a packet of sugar into his coffee.
“Just implying that you have better taste.” John’s smile is hidden as he opens his menu. “Hungry?”
“Depends. Are you going to steal my food like you did in high school?”
“I was stoned when we met here in high school.”
Laughing again, Kevin shakes his head. “That doesn’t actually answer my question, you know.”
“Oh, so not only are you accusing me of being a thief, but you’re accusing me of being evasive, huh?” John lowers the menu, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Well, to put your mind at ease, I was a good boy tonight and I don’t have a case of the munchies. Well, beyond just being hungry.”
“So it’s safe to order then?” Kevin looks over his menu, glancing up at John now and then. “I was surprised.”
“About what?” John pauses, his coffee halfway to his lips.
“That you wanted to meet up. I figured you’d be out with the band or the groupies or something.”
“Okay, first of all, the groupies don’t care about the label guys. As for the band, I assure you that, no matter what I might tell you, I’m way too old to be cool.” He traces the rim of his coffee cup. “I’m honestly surprised that you called.”
“Really?”
“Most of the lawyers I know aren’t exactly known for partying into the wee hours of the morning.”
**
“So I do have a question.” John doesn’t look at Kevin as he swirls the last bite of his breakfast through the syrup left on his plate. “Back in high school when I was busy on the beach getting stone, what were you up to? I mean, I know what I thought you were up to.”
“Which was?”
“Well, I thought you were getting laid.”
“And what makes you think I wasn’t?”
“Well, you’re gay.”
Kevin laughs. “Yeah?”
“So?”
“So? What makes you think I wasn’t?”
John blushes. “Ah. Well. Were you?”
“Not quite. But close.”
“Who…I didn’t know anyone else was…of course, I didn’t know you were.”
“It’s okay. No one did until Danny sort of outed us both.”
“Danny. Danny who? The only Danny I remember is…” John stops, obviously shocked. “You’re shitting me.”
“Nope.”
“Holy shit.” He shakes his head in awe. “You were screwing Danny McCulloch?”
“Well, we weren’t actually screwing. More like everything but.”
“Still, that’s a pretty impressive catch for your high school romance, gay or otherwise.”
“Well, I don’t know if it was really a romance so much as we were both young, horny and relieved not to be the only freak on the block.”
“You were never a freak. Still.” John leans back, looking Kevin over. “Here I was thinking you were scoring with some hot chick and all along you were getting busy with the captain of the baseball and golf teams. And I used to think we weren’t popular.”
“We weren’t. We were easy.” Kevin laughs and pushes his plate away. “You never suspected?”
“No. But then, I don’t think any of us thought about it when we were kids.”
“I did.”
“No. I mean-” John blushes. “That’s not what I mean. I mean we didn’t talk about it back then like people do now.”
“I know what you mean.” Kevin finishes his coffee. “But weren’t you curious why I never said anything?”
“Not really. I knew you pretty well, though obviously not as well as I thought. When stuff mattered to you, you didn’t talk about it.”
“Pity my sister, Kitty, didn’t know that when she outed me to my entire family.” Kevin sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “What about you?”
“Oh, I was on the beach getting stoned, as advertised. And I maybe got lucky a time or two.”
“I was thinking something a little more current. Are you married? Dating? Still getting stoned on the beach?”
“Something like that.” John toys with the straw in his water, chasing ice cubes with it. “I was married. I date sometimes, and I usually get stoned in the privacy of my own apartment.”
“How long were you married?”
“Four years, give or take.” He glances out the window. “Long enough to love each other, long enough to hate each other. It was good and then it wasn’t, you know?”
“Yeah.” Kevin pours them both more coffee. “Do you still love her?”
“Yes. No. Sometimes.” John stirs the coffee, pouring in two packs of sugar. “I miss the parts that were good. I don’t miss the parts that were bad, and toward the end it was mostly bad parts. And sometimes, I just miss someone.”
“How long has it been?”
“Final a year and a half ago. And now I need something a lot stronger than coffee.” He smiles ruefully. “I don’t suppose you have a six-pack in the truck of your car?”
“No, but I live about a mile from here, and I have a pretty impressive bar.”
“Even better.” John grabs the check and heads for the counter. Kevin follows him, unable to keep from smiling. John doesn’t look all that different from the back, his jeans form-fitted and worn in all the right places. Kevin feels himself flush and forces his eyes away. John stops to pay and flashes him a quick smile. Kevin smiles back and waits, watching John flirt with the cashier, his voice tinted with a slight southern accent.
“You know, you haven’t changed at all.”
B&S/RP - Kevin & Dane
Kevin walks into the conference room, glancing up from his file to greet his client. “Mr…”
Dane’s dressed in a suit - Armani that fits him exactly like it should - and leaning against the table with his arms crossed over his chest. “Hello, Walker.”
Kevin glances down at the file then back up. “You’re not Mr. Asmussen.”
“Nope. Not even close.” Dane pushes off the table and moves past Kevin, locking the conference room door. Kevin turns slowly, watching Dane as he starts a sweep of the room, pausing at each window to close the blinds. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t be too keen to see me.”
“I don’t think anyone is all that keen on me seeing you.”
“And by anyone, you mean Johnny.” Dane locks the second door and moves back to Kevin, who hasn’t moved at all.
“You have to admit, he does have a valid reason.”
“Do I?” Dane stands behind Kevin and runs his fingers lightly over Kevin’s shoulders, tracing the clean line of his suit. He leans in, his breath hot on Kevin’s neck. “Are you sure?”
“We’re…we’re both married, Dane.” Kevin’s eyes close as Dane’s breath continues to ghost over his neck. “You’re his be-best friend.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with anyone else, Kevin.” Dane’s hands curve under the collar of Kevin’s suit jacket, scraping against his thin shirt as Dane guides the jacket off him. “Just you and me.”
“That’s not…” Kevin swallows hard as Dane moves away, hanging Kevin’s jacket on the back of one of the chairs at the conference table. His fingers erase any wrinkles from the fabric, and Kevin swallows hard again, his lips parting as Dane caresses the material with a deceptively light touch. “You know that’s not true.”
“You sure seem to know all the things we can’t do, the things I should know.” Dane turns to look at Kevin, his blue-gray eyes dark and hot. “Do you want to know what I know, Kevin?”
Kevin watches Dane as he moves closer. His suit catches the light like some sleek animal pelt, a panther stalking prey. Nodding slightly, Kevin licks his lips. “What?”
“I know-” Dane catches Kevin’s tie between his fingers and tugs lightly until Kevin steps toward him. He holds Kevin’s gaze as he draws him closer, close enough that Dane’s breath mingles with Kevin’s. “I know that right now we’re here, alone, and no one knows. I know that your pulse is pounding and your cock is hard for me.” Dane smiles hungrily as the fingers of his free hand trail over the bulge of Kevin’s cock through his slacks. “You know what else I know, Walker?”
Kevin swallows hard to wet his dry throat. “W-what’s that?”
Dane leans in, his voice hot in Kevin’s ear, rough and promising. “I know I promised to spank that tight ass of yours so hard you’d see stars.” Dane’s laugh rumbles down Kevin’s spine. “You remember that?”
Kevin’s breath shudders and his eyes threaten to close as Dane’s fingers slide along his cock, shifting so that his palm settles over Kevin’s length. “D-Dane.”
“That’s right, Walker. Did you miss the feel of me? Miss my hands on you?” He squeezes lightly and Kevin groans, the sound low and thick. Dane leans closer, his teeth grazing Kevin’s throat. “My mouth?”
“Fuck,” Kevin groans again, thrusting against the pressure of Dane’s hand. “Dane.”
Dane’s mouth and teeth continue teasing Kevin’s neck as the hand on his tie hooks behind the knot and tugs it loose. “You want that, Kevin? Bend you over my knee and punish you? You want my hands on you? My mouth on you?” He bites sharply and Kevin’s hips jerk hard. “You want my dick in you, Kevin?”
“G-God, Dane.” Kevin’s voice breaks and Dane takes advantage of the moment to kiss him, his mouth hard and hungry on Kevin’s. Kevin’s hands go to Dane’s jacket, pushing it aside to find the warm fabric of his shirt underneath. Dane doesn’t dress up often, and the knowledge of the darkly tanned skin and tattooed lines of ink hidden beneath the fine tailoring