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On the Road… To Recuperation

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John figured they were halfway through saving the country. Not just a small group of hostages, an airport, or a school of kids this time, but the entire fucking country. Halfway though; only halfway. He hadn't killed the main bad guy yet, and the job wasn't done until the scumbag had gone down, shot or dropped off a building or barbecued in a helicopter or whatever – John wasn't picky.

He was battered, bruised, and bloody already – again – but he carefully didn't think about his aches and pains and the feeling that he was too old for this shit. He'd hated those movies. You were never too fucking old to do a job that needed to be done, and he'd seen enough suicidal cops that he didn't find them entertaining.

Driving his third – fourth? – stolen vehicle, he took a glance at the kid out of the corner of his eye. He'd whined a few times earlier in the day about being hungry but then shut up about it. "You okay?" he asked, not out of any real desire for conversation, but needing to know the kid was still with him, and not going into shock from sheer stress. As much as he hated to admit it, he had a feeling that those wizard techno skills would be needed again before this night was over. Some things couldn't be solved with a bullet.

"Yeah. You okay? You want me to drive?"

John laughed. He'd never surrendered the wheel to Holly on their few rare vacations; he certainly wasn't letting some kid his daughter's age take over. "No."

"Are you sure we shouldn't stop somewhere and get help for you?" The kid was eying John, the dirt and blood. He'd probably only seen anyone this messy from violence in his safe computer games.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Stopping'd take too long anyway." They drove a few more minutes, and out of a perverse desire to shock the kid, John added, "I'd stop if I could get a quick blowjob though. Best thing to rev up the body."

The kid stared.

"You have had sex, haven't you?" John asked, because who the hell knew? He was certainly old enough, but there hadn't been any pictures of a girlfriend around his apartment, just computer equipment and dolls.

"Of course I've had sex!" The kid said defensively, which didn't entirely convince John.

"So you know what I'm talking about."

The kid stared a bit more, that long hair almost obscuring one eye, and then said, "Okay, pull over."

"What?"

"Pull over. I'll give you a blowjob."

"Don't shit me kid."

"I'm not. Pull over. I'll give you a blowjob."

"I'm not gay," John protested, even as he was trying to figure out if the kid was serious or yanking his chain. Probably just trying to shock John back.

"Yeah, like that matters. A mouth's a mouth. Guys are better at giving blowjobs anyway. They know how it feels."

"You know this because of your vast experience?" John mocked.

"You wouldn't believe what people get up to at space camp."

John shuddered, trying not to picture nerds getting it on, or 'exploring their sexuality,' as people seemed to like to say these days. "We're almost there."

The kid shrugged, accepting the deflection as the rejection it was. "Your loss."

"I'll live." He took one last glance at the kid, at his mouth and those soft lips, wondering what it could be like, to have a guy suck his dick, a guy who really understood. Then he dismissed the ridiculous idea and turned his attention to the approaching facility. He had bad guys to kill and a country to save.

~~~

The country was safe, the bad guys were dead, the plan to steal a shitload of money had been ruined, and most importantly, Lucy had lived, as had he and the kid, which was all that mattered in John's worldview. He twitched under the plain white sheets at the hospital, hating having to be here, hating that he'd have to fake a little remorse about shooting the bad guys for the police psychiatrist during the mandatory investigation of any officer-related shooting.

At least he had some good music to drown out his roommate's television repetitious viewing of "The Golden Girls." He'd been a little skeptical when Lucy brought the Ipod, but she'd promised that she'd loaded it with "that old junk he liked" and she had. He'd take the Beatles over Beatrice Arthur any day.

Lucy was a good kid. She was even using McClane again. He wondered if she and Matt were seeing each other. Not that he wanted her to be seeing anyone – if she could stay sweet and innocent for the rest of her life, John would be happy – but at least if she had to go with a guy, one who was capable of picking up a gun and filling a bad guy with bullets was a decent choice.

He'd have to give Matt some serious grilling if those two hooked up. John hadn't forgotten the blowjob offer or the comment about space camp. Matt probably had been giving him shit, but Lucy wasn't dating anyone who took risks playing both sides of the fence.

As if called by his thoughts, the curtains around his bed opened and Matt slipped through, carefully pulling them shut behind him. "Hi."

"Hey," John answered, shutting off the Ipod, pulling the earbuds – earbuds, why the hell couldn't they call them earpieces? – out and putting the player on the movable nightstand by his bed. No old woman was making quips, so his roommate must have turned off his television.

Dressed in a maroon shirt and blue jeans, Matt looked good, clean and healthy and showing no signs of being scared to death and shot in the leg. "I didn't expect you to still be here."

"Yeah, the doctor's a bit of a dick. He thinks I won't rest at home."

Matt smiled. "I wonder why he thinks that. Maybe because it's true?"

"Caught me." John grinned back. "How are you? I saw the interview in the Sunday paper."

"I'm good. Enjoying my fifteen minutes of fame. I've got some great job offers."

"So having to save the country wasn't a total loss."

"Yeah." The kid pushed a little on his sheets, like he was making a space to perch on the edge of the bed. "It'll help to replace all my stuff that got blown up."

"No insurance?" John asked, pretty sure that Matt wasn't that practical. He hadn't even seemed to have health insurance, hot footing it out of the emergency as soon as the flesh wound in his leg was patched, leaving John wishing he could follow, but the rather severe bullet hole in his shoulder had scuttled that hope.

Matt grimaced. "No. I guess I should have downloaded a couple of thousand while we were at Woodlawn."

John shook his head mournfully at Matt. "Gotta think faster, kid."

Still fussing with the sheets, Matt nodded toward the nightstand. "I'm surprised you have an Ipod. I would have guessed you still listened to LPs."

"Vinyl has the best sound," John agreed. "Lucy brought it for me. What are you doing?"

"I made you an offer. I thought I'd deliver. You know, for saving the country and everything."

"What are you talking about?"

But then it was obvious what Matt was talking about, because he pulled the sheets neatly back, flipped up the front of the embarrassing hospital gown, and half-crouched over the hospital bed, his tongue licking a broad stripe along John's flaccid dick.

"Hey!"

"Shhh." Matt put a finger to his lips. "Your neighbor's sleeping. I checked before I came in. Let's not wake him up, okay?" And then he did it again, another soft wide lick from root to tip, and John's dick flexed with interest.

"Are you kidding me?" John hissed. "You can't be doing this here! You shouldn't be doing this at all!"

Matt rolled his eyes at him. "Like you're someone who follows rules," he muttered before he cradled John's dick in one hand and mouthed the tip.

"Christ," John said, staring in amazement. Matt's dark hair hung loose around his head, brushing on John's skin, and his eyes had closed, long lashes fanning on his cheeks, like Matt wanted no distractions, wanted to know nothing except John's dick. And wow, space camp or wherever Matt had learned it, Matt knew how to give blowjobs well, spending a long time rolling his tongue around the tip until John's dick was sticking straight up like a tent pole, leaking copiously from the slit.

John could only watch and try to keep breathing, perversely grateful that he'd insisted on not having a catheter, because as wrong as this was, he'd hate for anything to be in the way. Then he realized that Matt must be uncomfortable, half-bent in a crouch because the bed was too tall for him to put his knees on the floor.

"Shit, here," he tugged at Matt, who refused to surrender John's dick from his mouth, taking in another few inches, and the wet suction almost undid John's good intentions. "I'm not trying to stop you, idiot. Just – get on the bed. You'll get a cramp."

Matt's eyes – they were brown, weren't they? Why did they look so black? – studied him intently, and then he gave a nod before releasing John's dick, taking only a few seconds to situate himself between John's legs, his head hovering over John's groin. "Not going to try to stop me?" he asked.

John slid one hand through Matt's hair, which was as fine and silky as any woman's. "It's a mouth, right? And you really know what you're doing," he taunted, wanting Matt to demonstrate. Hell, he'd saved the country, hadn't he? He was stuck in a hospital, wasn't he? He deserved a blowjob for recompense and diversion.

"I do," Matt said cheekily, then his head was bobbing over John's dick, that thinner upper lip and fuller lower one gliding over his skin, swallowing him deep.

"Christ," John said again, in reverence and appreciation, because yeah, Matt knew what he was doing, and he seemed to have no gag reflex. John wasn't hung like a porn star, but he wasn't small either, and Matt kept bobbing up and down, taking more and more on each down stroke until his nose was pressing into the black hair at the base of John's dick.

Dragging his tongue up the length, Matt released John's dick enough to comment, "I see you've got some hair at least."

"You should be spanked for not respecting your elders," John said, and jeez, was that his voice coming out so breathily? He sounded worse than Marilyn Monroe.

"Yeah, that'd be okay. Not here though."

"Are you - ? Shit." John couldn't complete his sentence to ask if he was serious because Matt was back at it, teasing him with a hint of teeth then taking him deep, making John shudder. Matt's hands, strong but soft-skinned, framed his hips, stroking lightly, and John could feel the texture of Matt's clothes, cotton and denim, against the flesh of his legs.

His dick was harder than the barrel of his gun, moistened and warm with Matt's saliva and his own pre-come, and John's hips had to move, guided to rock up and down by Matt's controlling hands. The lengthy attention Matt had given the tip had revved up John's body, and now he could feel his orgasm coming fast, slamming through his nerves, his balls pulling up tight, and he put the fleshy base of his thumb into his mouth, biting down hard, grinding his teeth into skin and muscle to prevent what would have been a monstrous yell. Faster than bullets, his come shot out into Matt's mouth, and could this kid be any more unbelievable because he fucking drank it all, swallowing around John's dick.

Panting heavily, John flopped back onto the bed, twitching in aftershocks, relishing the gentle feel of Matt's tongue licking him clean before Matt put the hideous hospital gown back into place.

"You are not seeing my daughter," John commanded, yanking at Matt's shirt, tugging him up.

Matt came easily, his body pliable, resting on John's body. "No, I'm not."

"Good. At least we agree on one thing."

Matt kissed him hot and dirty and fuck, was that the taste of John's come in his mouth? Then he swung off the bed, perching on the side of the bed, breathing like he was trying to enter a meditative trance.

John stroked the tips of his fingers on Matt's back. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just – need a moment," he said, and John realized from the bulge in his blue jeans that he was willing away his own erection. Hard from giving him a blowjob and wasn't that a blast? In John's experience, women didn't normally find blowjobs arousing.

"Yeah, okay," John agreed, because he'd like to suggest that Matt jerk off so he could watch but his roomie would wake up sooner or later. John and Matt had both gotten a lot of publicity this week. They didn't need to generate any copy for the scandal rags.

Matt stood finally, giving him another of those hot kisses, and when had John agreed to that? The kid was a good kisser though. "When you get out of here, I'm sure we'll find more things we agree on." Matt flashed another of those cheeky grins before slipping through the curtains.

Had he meant what John thought? Damn. John positioned the Ipod on his chest again and tucked the earbuds into his ears. Maybe there were some advantages in saving the country, if it meant getting closer to the younger generation along the way.

~ the end ~