John and Charlie had lunch on Tuesday, which consisted of John strolling by Charlie's desk in the morning, giving a casual, "Lunch? I'll buy." and getting an equally casual detached, "Yeah," in response, and then them meeting at a hot dog stand around the block from the station. They devoted themselves to the preparation of their dogs, each with his own variation of mustard, ketchup, onions, relish, or sauerkraut, before they took their sodas, strolled a few steps away, leaned against a wall, and Charlie asked, "So how are you in trouble this time, McClane?"
"Who said I was in trouble?"
"You don't buy unless you need advice, McClane. And you never need advice unless you're incredibly deep in trouble."
"I'm not that cheap," John grumbled, nibbling on his dog. Charlie raised one eyebrow at him in a "yes, you are" statement and took a bite of his hot dog.
Feeling self-conscious, John studied their surroundings, but people passed by on the sidewalk, not paying any attention to them. "When did you know? That you were - ?"
"When I was what? Dazzlingly handsome? Incredibly intelligent? Latino? Gay?"
Trust Charlie not to make this easy for him. "The last, dickhead."
Charlie gave him one of those good cops looks, like 'I'm figuring this out' and asked gently, "Is it Jack?"
"Jesus, Jack's not gay. And Lucy's not a lesbian either. This isn't about the kids."
Charlie ate more of his hot dog, giving John another one of those long looks, before shaking his head. "Jesus, McClane, you?"
"I didn't say that," John instinctively protested.
"You didn't have to."
Panic would be a mild word for the sensation that flooded through John's system. "Jesus, is it that obvious? Do I - ?"
"Relax, John. I know you, that's all. You're not setting off my gaydar."
John relaxed a bit. This was weird enough to handle without the possibility of it being obvious to everyone. "So when did you know? How did you know?"
Charlie shrugged. "When does any of us know we're first interested in sex? When we're young and horny and stupid and having embarrassing erections during the day and wet dreams at night. Only I thought about boys instead of girls."
"I always thought about girls," John insisted.
"So what's happened?"
Sure, John had come to Charlie for advice, but that didn't mean he was going to open up and explain all the recent events in full detail. John had never been a man to chitchat easily about his feelings, a fact that Holly had noted on more than one occasion. "I had sex with a guy, what do you think happened?"
Charlie didn't take offense at John's abruptness. But then, being easily ruffled was not generally a personality trait of a New York cop. "So was the sex good? Was the guy a stranger or a friend? Are you thinking about doing it again?"
"Yeah, very, he's a friend, and yeah, I guess so. He's coming up Friday."
"He's coming up? Like to spend the weekend?"
"Yeah, that's what we did last weekend. Well, he came up Saturday and went back Sunday. He lives in New Jersey." For once, Charlie was looking oddly shocked. "Why? What's wrong with that?"
Charlie shook his head and didn't answer. "He initiated, right? You guys are using condoms?"
"Yeah, and Christ, of course. We're not stupid."
Charlie finished off his hot dog, and John worked on his, letting Charlie absorb and think. Charlie was great in a fight, they'd been in a few together, but he did his best work when he had a chance to contemplate the facts.
"I'm trying to figure out who this mystery man is. I know most of your friends and I can't see you having sex with any of them."
"Does it matter?" John asked, strangely reluctant to drag Matt into the discussion.
"Not really, just – Jesus, it's that kid, isn't it? The hacker?"
"He's a security consultant, not a hacker." Though he must have been a hacker when he was younger, or the FBI wouldn't have wanted him picked up for questioning. Christ, he could be having sex with a gay ex-con.
"Wow. You always do things hardcore, don't you McClane?"
"What does that mean?"
"You can't just get a hand job from a stranger, can you? You have to get in a gay relationship with someone half your age."
Gay relationship? He hadn't been in a real relationship since his divorce. "I'm not – "
Charlie cut off his protest. "If you're spending weekends together, you're in a relationship. And here's my advice – Enjoy it and don't be a dick."
"That's it? Enjoy it and don't be a dick? Those are your words of wisdom?"
"I wasn't sure you'd want to hear the rest. They involve talking about feelings and emotions."
"I want to hear," John insisted quietly.
"Wow. John McClane wants to hear about feelings and emotions. You do have it bad." John gave him an 'asshole' glare, which made Charlie smile wryly. "Okay, here goes. So the sex is good. Appreciate that. Have fun learning. I won't mention the "l" word because I know you're nowhere near that yet, but it's good too. You're a middle-aged man facing a complete reevaluation of yourself, so you're going to be vulnerable. Yes, you, John McClane, are going to be vulnerable and scared, and don't even try to tell me you're not. But you won't want to admit that, even to yourself, so you'll probably be even more difficult and defensive than usual."
Charlie finished his hot dog and wiped his mouth before continuing. "Hopefully he's always known he was gay, so at least he's not going through that hurdle. But he's hooking up with someone who's twice his age, someone who has bad baggage, and he may just be into the sex or he may be thinking about the "l" word, or face it, he may be driven by a bad case of hero worship. You saved his life a couple of times and that's a pretty powerful thing. I don't know him so I can't say what's motivating him. But whatever it is, he's probably a lot more vulnerable and scared than he's letting you see. So you have an amazing potential to screw this up or to make it the best thing that ever happened to you, because anyone who can put up with you for a full weekend and still return has got to be a pretty special young man. So enjoy it and don't be a dick."
John ate the rest of his hot dog, contemplating Charlie's words. He didn't always agree with him, but anything he said was worth considering. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks."
Kicking back in his easy chair, drinking a beer, and watching Matt wander around his living room, sipping from his own bottle, "scared" and "vulnerable" weren't really the words John associated with him. "Curious" and "impertinent" were more like it.
"Where's your computer?" Matt asked, frowning, looking as if he expected a laptop to pop out of thin air.
"I don't have one."
"You don't have a computer?"
"There's one at work."
"But you don't have one here? For your personal stuff?"
"No." John had actually thought about getting one, but so far the Chief hadn't complained when he bought tickets online during his breaks, so he hadn't bothered.
This concept seemed to be beyond Matt's comprehension, and he wandered around again, studying the collection of records on two shelves of the bookcase next to the stereo system. "You really do listen to vinyl?"
"Vinyl has the best sound." It did, though mostly John listened to CDs for the convenience and kept the records because of 'sentimental packratness' as Holly used to complain, but egging Matt into being snarky was kinda fun.
"At least you own some CDs," Matt muttered, running a finger along the jewel boxes. "All reissues of wow, classic rock. I'm so surprised. What's the latest any of these bands performed, 1975 or so?"
"A lot of those bands do still perform."
"Oh yeah, that's right. What, the Stones are on their fourth farewell tour or so. They're aiming to be the first performing centenarians. They'll probably mummify them and prop them up on stage after their deaths. 1975 is just the last year most of these groups recorded any new material."
"One of the guys at work thought you were hero worshipping me. I'll have to tell him you're too much of a smartass to worship anyone."
"You talk about me to the guys at work?"
Matt's smile was surprised but pleased, and John hated to burst his bubble. "One of the guys," he emphasized. "Charlie. Carlos."
"And Charlie thinks I hero worship you?"
"He thought it was a possibility."
Expecting more teasing, John was surprised when Matt's lips pouted down in irritation. "I'm not here because you saved my life."
"Then why are you here?"
"Wow, what is this, John McClane asking about motivations?" Matt teased as he straddled John's legs, sitting on his knees, setting his bottle on the side table. "Next we'll be talking about our feelings."
John set his bottle down too. With Matt practically in his lap, he didn't want any distractions. "I'm a cop. I ask about motivations all the time."
"Oh right. Your amazing detective skills."
"Yeah, smartass. Motivations. It's why people do things. So what are you doing here?"
"I was just trying to buy you a cup of coffee. You were the one who stalked out. We drink a cup of coffee, I'm outta here." Matt rested his hands on John's upper thighs, kneading his muscles like a cat, belying the disinterest in his words.
"Yeah? There's one thing you need before you get that coffee." He burrowed his hands under the edge of Matt's t-shirt, grabbing the button on his jeans, undoing it and beginning to work his zipper down. Matt's dick was starting to fill, making the task a delicate one.
"Cream?" Matt grinned. "Though you're going about it the wrong way." His eyes dropped to John's crotch.
"We'll get there later." With the final teeth undone and Matt's dick straining the front of his white underwear, John pushed Matt's left leg off his leg, while urging his back to twist and bend, manhandling him with enough force to make Matt's body accept his direction until his knees hit the ground on the right side of John's legs, his torso over John's knees. John tugged at his jeans and underwear, yanking them down to puddle around Matt's knees. "A little respect for your elders, that's what you need."
Matt's butt was lovely, the cheeks firm and pale and round, like a Grecian or Roman statue of a naked god. John admired it for a second, before he brought his hand down sharply, open and flat, spanking Matt's butt. Matt gave a twitch and let out a startled, "Oh!"
With one hand, John stroked Matt's back gently, feeling the lean form under the soft cotton material of the two shirts he habitually wore. Next time Matt would be completely naked, John decided, but for now his mostly clothed state was disturbingly hot, only one part of him exposed and vulnerable, forcing John's focus there. He stroked Matt's butt with the other hand, appreciating the feel of even softer naked flesh, stroking down his thighs a little to get the sensation of strong thighs covered with dark hair. He didn't press down or use his strength, giving Matt time to twist out from his hold if he wanted.
Sensing no objections, John lifted his hand, bringing it back down briskly onto Matt's naked butt, Matt's body jerking in reaction. He spanked him again, watching the skin blush pink around the whiter outline of his hand. Then again, and again, and again, while his cock grew stiff and yearning in his jeans. Matt was silent, remaining on his knees, his body pliable, accepting the force and pacing, all John's choice.
John stroked him some more, running his fingers between the crevice of his cheeks, exposing Matt's wrinkled hole, wondering how the hell his cock had fit into something so small.
"The lube's in my jeans," Matt offered, his voice almost too low to hear.
"Give it to me."
Not moving his body, Matt reached back, groping for his jeans, digging one hand into the pocket, his arm flailing behind his back to offer the tube of Gun Oil.
Slicking up one finger, John screwed it into Matt's ass. Inside felt as good as it had around his cock, all tight and warm and clinging. Exploring, digging his finger in deeper, he hit a place that made Matt give a cry of pleasure. Matt's head jerked back and then hung down again, brown hair swaying with his motion. "That's it, huh?"
"Yeah. That's it."
"Good." John spanked Matt again on one ass cheek, gave him a second to recover, then tapped his prostate, making Matt give a frantic cry each time. John's cock was getting as urgent as Matt sounded, desperate to shove into Matt's body, to make him take John hard and long. John ignored it, spanking the other cheek, starting a pattern of alternating spanks and taps, watching with a rush of power as Matt writhed on his knees, moaning continuously, helpless against the combined sensations. The noises Matt made were better music than even Creedence, John had to admit.
John squirted lube on the next finger, squeezing it in next to the other, slowing the pace of the taps and spanks, focusing more on stretching the muscle. Matt's moans slowed, but became deeper. Watching Matt's ass become fiery hot pink had John as hard as nails, but he wished he could see Matt's face, watch the ecstasy reflected in his eyes as well as hear it.
Giving him one last spank, John placed his hand on Matt's butt, cupping the firm flesh in his fingers. God, it felt so good, the perfect firmness for his hand to grope. "Yeah?"
Matt's voice sounded like he was having trouble getting his words out. "You have to stop if you don't want me to come on your carpet."
"And if I want you to come, like this? On your knees? Over my lap?"
Matt laughed, a shaky sound. "Then you don't have to do much more. But I'm not cleaning the mess off the carpet."
For that, John risked another sharp spank across both cheeks, loving the sound, wanting Matt to know John registered his impudence. Then he gave Matt's butt a one-handed clasping squeeze, before releasing it, easing the fingers of his other hand out of the hole. They stood together, John lifting Matt off his lap, helping him uncurl and get his feet under him. Matt swayed toward John, the color on his cheeks as high as the color on his butt, his cock arching straight out, pre-come leaking from the tip. He hadn't exaggerated his condition.
"Get your clothes off. Go into the bedroom."
Matt obeyed, tugging the shirts off, kicking off his shoes and socks before stepping out of his jeans. He turned and walked out, while John watched the faint sway of his hips and that rosy butt.
Grabbing the front of his pants, John squeezed, willing his erection down enough that he could struggle out of his jeans, flinging the rest of his clothes on the ground. He sipped some of his beer, moistening his dry throat, drawing out the anticipation, and then walked into the bedroom.
Matt lay on the bed, arms on each side, legs wide, one foot planted on the bed, his cock looking like a firecracker ready to explode, all red and swollen. John didn't touch, didn't talk, letting him wait and watch while he got out a condom, and rolled it on, coating more lube on the outside.
He used his knees to shove Matt's thighs wider, swooping down to cover Matt, one hand bracing himself, the other on his dick, lining it up where it wanted to be, and giving a good thrust.
"God," Matt muttered, his arms and legs wrapping around John, one hand cradling the back of John's bald head, his teeth biting John's shoulder.
John gave a short thrust, feeling Matt's hole swallow his dick, bringing it home. "You okay?"
"I didn't realize torture was a police tactic." The words made John freeze, and Matt swore. "You're killing me, McClane. Would you fuck me?"
"I don't want to hurt you," John gasped, still frozen.
"Yeah, tell that to my ass." Matt grimaced with frustration at John's failure to move. "Oh Christ, you don't get it, you idiot – "
Matt must have learned the value of taking action from John, because he grabbed his own dick. John could feel his fingers moving up and down between them, masturbating while he tilted his hips, bucking up at John, his legs clasping John's hips, trying to force him down, taking him deeper even though John refused to thrust. "Fuck me, John. Fuck me. I can take it. I want it. Fuck me."
The instruction couldn't have been clearer and John surrendered, rocking fully forward, feeling the slap of his balls against Matt's skin as his cock gloated happily at finally getting everything it wanted. He rocked out and back in as Matt bucked up, clinging with arms and legs to John, the two of them pounding at each other, Matt fisting himself mercilessly. John drove his tongue into Matt's mouth, Matt's tongue curling slickly around his own, as they kissed and moaned and fucked each other hard, too wound up to delay one damn moment longer, using all their muscles and power, their bodies fully engaged in the battle for satisfaction.
Matt came first, his throat arching as he yelled, wetness spurting all other their stomachs, and John followed fast, feeling his come explode powerfully out of his dick, grunting as he bit Matt's shoulder, overwhelmed by heat and fire and relief.
John didn't disengage immediately, resting on Matt who supported him like a cushy pillow that had conformed to his body. He nuzzled Matt's face and licked his nipples, long lingering strokes, soothing him as Matt shook and once or twice, breathed harshly, like he was holding back a sob. Eventually John rolled onto his back, making Matt sprawl over him, pressing his head to John's chest. John's hands found Matt's butt, believing that he could feel the warmth left by the spanking on his palm.
They were almost on the verge of falling asleep when Matt spoke. "You know… I don't think that's actually going to encourage me to be respectful. It might even have the reverse effect."
John snickered, feeling reassured that he hadn't gone overboard. "That's okay. I can teach you the lesson again if I need to."
"Yeah, that'd be…" Matt drifted off, always sleepy first.
John watched him sleep, remembering Charlie's words. He'd definitely enjoyed it. He didn't want to think about the scared and vulnerable part, to admit that he had those feelings, or to wonder how much Matt's cheekiness was a façade. But the don't be a dick part, yeah. He was going to try not to screw this up, because Charlie had gotten that right, Matt could be the best thing that had happened to him.
~ the end ~