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Bill sits in the office staring at nothing for a long time after reading the scripts he's been sent. While he's known that he's going to have to come up with at least one project this year--and thank God this will be the last year he has to do that--he hadn't planned on something this big. He glances at the second script and finds himself wondering what the character's secret is, what the pills are about, what it's like to be that sharp and observant....

Okay, stop this right now; you need to clear this with Sean before you start digging into the guy's head.

He finds Sean in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher, and for a moment it's so weirdly domestic that he just stands in the doorway and stares at Sean. If I were straight, I'd probably be having this conversation with my wife. He waits for the faint feeling of panic he's felt before when he thinks things like that, and, oddly enough, it's not there.

Great, I'm weirded out because I'm not weirded out.

"We need to talk," he says.

Sean straightens up immediately, eyebrows raised just a little. "All right," he says. With an opening like that, he's trying to gauge Bill's expression, trying to figure out if there's something wrong, and so far he can't tell one way or the other. No one should ever open conversations with that line, he thinks, but there's no reason to get worried just yet.

"Sorry," Bill says, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Nothing's wrong; we're good. It's just...I got offered this part, and...." And I want it. He rubs at the back of his neck. "It's TV, a full US season."

"Oh," Sean says, taking a seat, too. "I suppose we do have to talk about that, don't we? Start with location--where is it filming?"

"Not LA," Bill says quickly, knowing that that's the last place Sean wants to be these days. "It's in Texas. Houston, to be exact." He looks at Sean seriously.

"I don't have to do this; you know that. I'll need to work this year, but not anything on this scale."

"But do you want to do it?" Sean asks. "I have work on the horizon, but I've got options; I can look for something that will take me to the States while you're working, and we can look into weekend travel."

Bill looks off into the distance for a moment. "It's...I don't know if you've heard of Prison Break? It was kind of a runaway hit for Fox last season. This season, the prisoners have finally broken out and are on the run. They need someone for the FBI agent chasing them." He shrugs. "Most of the time when I get stuff like this, it's because someone thinks I can do a good ol' boy kind of cop, like that weird science fiction thing they wanted me to do last year. But this one...

"This...the guy's a wreck. He's really brilliant but he's fucked up with some sort of big secret in his past and...." Shaking his head, he looks at Sean. "It's a good role and yeah, I want to do it."

"Then you should," Sean says. He grins. "I can't say I've heard of it, but if you end up looking into last year's episodes, I'll keep you company while you're doing research. As for what I'll end up doing--let me look over what I've got and we'll talk about whether you'd like to go on your own, or whether I take time off, or if there's something I've got lined up that would put me in the same area as you." He shrugs. "You came to India with me; there's no reason I can't follow you to Houston."

"India was six weeks," Bill says. "This...this is months. In Houston. I...." He runs his hand through his hair. "I've never had to make this kind of decision before and I'm feeling kind of weird about it."

"It's not a small decision, I'll grant you that," Sean says. "But I don't think either one of us wants to be separated for all those months--or at least I'd rather not, if we can help it."

"Yeah," Bill says, and it's a lot easier knowing they're on the same page. Of course he knows that Sean wants to be with him, but the fact that this is a relationship beyond the contract is so damn new. "That's the important thing. If we can work something out and it doesn't get in the way of your work, then I'll consider it."

"How long have you got to think it over?" Sean asks. If time's of the essence, Sean's pretty sure there's something in a pile that would have him in the States for a while. But if there's more time, he can always have his agent get more specific about it.

"That's the problem," Bill says. "They thought about someone else, but something happened. They want me in LA in a couple of days and Houston right after that." He sighs. "I don't want you to have to feel rushed, though. I can look after myself for a while."

Sean shrugs. "Work is work--it's not as though I've got another Sharpe on the horizon just now. I'll look through what I've got and see what I can turn up. In the meantime, though, we'll need to get you packed."

"Yeah," Bill says. "Wow, that was easy." He rolls his eyes at himself and tries again. "It's not that I didn't expect you to be reasonable or anything. It's just that juggling two careers in a relationship is something you have more experience with than I do. And you know how much I like not knowing how to do something."

"No way to figure it out but by doing," Sean says, grinning. "Will you have time to come back home before Houston, or is this one solid trip, LA and then you're in Texas for the foreseeable future?" He'll have to drag out more suitcases if it's the latter, he's realizing, but that shouldn't be a problem. God knows they both have the luggage for things like this.

"I think it's a solid trip, but, really," Bill shrugs, "I don't need much. Maybe one suit and then jeans and shirts. I don't bother with dressing up for LA; no one cares.

"Oh, and I'll be staying at the Establishment, of course; you'll need to make those arrangements."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Sean says. "I'll pack the basics for you, and if you end up needing more, I'll bring it out to you the first time I have the chance."

"Right," Bill says, getting up. "C'mon then, let's go get me packed up." He grins at Sean. "Or we could have sex and then you could pack."

"Do I get a vote, Master?" Sean asks, grinning back.

"I dunno," Bill says, heading toward the bedroom. "Is this a democracy or are you my slave?"

"Good point, Master," Sean says. He can't help grinning anyway, though, especially with where Bill's heading.

"I thought so," Bill says. "So why are you still on your feet?" He actually doesn't make Sean crawl all that often; the last thing he wants to do is damage Sean's knees. But right now he wants to see Sean down there like that, wants to know he can put Sean there.

Sean drops to his hands and knees at that, groaning softly; he's getting harder with every step, now, every word, and being able to offer his arousal and his obedience to Bill is one of the best things about being his slave. "Your slave's sorry, Master," he murmurs.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Bill says, although he can tell that Sean's not all that upset. Looking down, Bill smiles and gets an idea. "God, you look good down there; crawl into the living room. I'm going to want you on the carpet for this."

"Yes, Master!" Sean grins, too, and heads back for the living room. Whatever it is Bill's after, he's got a feeling he'll be sore and happy by the end of it. It's probably never going to be easy being separated for stretches of time like this, but damn if Bill doesn't know how to give a memorable goodbye.

"Stay on your hands and knees," Bill says, once Sean's naked on the big Persian carpet in the living room. They're both going to be grateful for the padding under the rug, Bill thinks as he grabs the lube out of the drawer in a side table. This is crazy at my age.

"Your knees up for it?" he asks, running a slick finger along the crease of Sean's ass.

"Oh, God, yes, Master," Sean says. He licks his lips and forces himself to stay still; pushing back for more isn't going to get him what he wants right now.

"Good," Bill says. He keeps teasing, brushing his finger lightly over Sean's hole before moving down to gently stroke his balls. Pain is good, and God knows that Sean can take a lot of it, but sometimes Bill likes to tease him. Either way, I get a desperate boy on my hands, so it's pretty much win-win.

Groaning more, Sean lets his head drop down so he can focus on the sensations Bill's giving him. "Feels so good, Master," he murmurs. "God... Christ, Master, that feels fucking amazing. Please..."

"Mmmm...." Bill leans forward and nuzzles Sean's back, as he pours more lube onto his fingers. "You're so easy," he murmurs, going back to slow tease and including Sean's cock.

In spite of the grey British weather outside, it's warm in the house and that only adds to Bill's lazy feeling. He may be leaving soon, but he's not going to rush this at all. Although getting Sean all worked up is certainly a big part of the appeal here, Bill's also enjoying the feel of his fingers tracing slow paths from Sean's cock to his ass and back.

This isn't something Sean's going to forget anytime soon; he'll probably spend a lot of time thinking about how this feels, how Bill can make him this greedy with simple, easy movements. He's groaning louder and louder, head coming back up as he clenches his hands and tries not to move.

"Do you want something?" Bill asks. "I can't really tell." He has to bite back a laugh at that; at least Sean has no problem with what's been described as an annoying sense of humor.

"Master, please," Sean moans. Bill knows full well he's killing Sean, he must, but Sean's far enough gone that even having to put all these needs into words is arousing. "Please, Master, your slave's hoping like hell you'll end up fucking him, please, Master, God, feels so good, please...!"

"Greedy boy," Bill says, pressing just the tip of one finger into Sean. "You need it all the time, don't you?" And maybe it's a little cruel to give Sean a hard time for wanting it, considering Bill's own appetite, but then again, Bill's a sadist. He smiles a little at the thought and goes still.

Panting now, Sean squeezes his eyes shut hard to keep himself from pushing back. Holding still's so damned difficult at times like this, when he's getting a taste of what he wants and it's going no further. "Please, Master," Sean begs, "please, oh God, please... more, please?"

"More what?" Bill asks, still not moving. "I can't read your mind." And now he's just being a jerk, because of course he knows what Sean wants.

"Please, Master, more of your fingers, please, your slave's so bloody desperate to get fucked," Sean groans. "Master, please, please!"

"Desperate's a good look on you," Bill says, roughly shoving two fingers into Sean. "I love hearing you beg."

"Love--oh, fuck, yes, Master, God--love--love begging for you, Master, oh God, please, please, more, slave wants more, please," Sean gets out, still trying not to move, but God, his arms are shaking from holding himself steady now, and getting fingers is nothing like getting cock.

Chuckling, Bill twists his fingers, enjoying the sight of Sean attempting to be still. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Master, please!" Sean almost loses it, almost ends up dropping to his forearms and begging with his forehead on the floor, but damn it, not 'til he's been told to. "Please, Master, your slave would--anything, Master, please, just... please!"

Bill could do this all day, but he does have to contact his agent and pack, so he undoes his jeans and shoves them out of the way. That taken care of, he moves into position and shoves into Sean hard, growling just a little at how good Sean feels around him.

Sean yells something incoherent -- it might have been words or begging -- and scrambles for balance, pushing back just enough that he doesn't get shoved flat onto his face.

Jesus, he sounds good when he's getting fucked. Bill has to go still and close his eyes for a moment; the last thing he wants to do is come now and have this be over before it really got started.

Once he's regained his control, he starts fucking Sean hard, gripping his hips and pounding into him.

It's exactly what Sean's been so desperate for, and he doesn't hold back on making noise for Bill. Groaning and gasping and just holding on--this is all about Bill's motions; Sean couldn't move much if he wanted to--Sean kneels there and takes it, mouth open wide, eyes shut tight.

Although Bill's tempted to keep slamming into Sean, he manages to pull back after a moment. Slowing down, he leans over and nuzzles the back of Sean's neck, licking Sean's damp skin. "You smell good...kinda desperate."

Sean can't help a small laugh at that. "Only... kind of... Master?" he pants.

"Mmmm...really desperate?" Bill asks, biting down on the nape of Sean's neck. Sliding a hand under Sean's arm, Bill sits back, pulling Sean back with him. "You feel better when you're desperate." He pinches one of Sean's nipples hard.

Sitting back on Bill's lap this way, Sean's got nothing to do but arch and squirm and take it. He lets his head fall back against Bill's shoulder and groans again, all too aware of how hard he is, how close he's about to get. "So fucking good, Master," he groans.

For all that Bill says he works out to deal with the effect Sean's cooking has on his waistline, or to stay fit so he can manage athletic roles at his age, he has to admit that the fact that he can fuck his boy like this has a lot to do with the time he spends in the gym. It's work--he can feel the burn in his thighs and calves--but it's good to be able to thrust up into Sean while Sean's on his lap.

" feel so fucking hot."

It's incredibly easy to picture the visual on this, to imagine how Bill must look driving into Sean from this position, and the image is just about enough to undo Sean completely. "Master--Christ--so close, Master, please, please..."

"Not yet," Bill says, going still. He settles Sean's weight on his lap and reaches around to play with one of Sean's nipple rings. "Not yet."

"Please," Sean groans. "Please, Master--" He's squirming again, trying to press his nipple harder against Bill's fingers, trying not to let himself rock back on Bill's cock. All the sensations are quickly pushing him into overload, and being held on the edge is the best kind of torture.

"Mmmm," Bill murmurs, tugging harder at Sean's nipple and biting down on his shoulder. He loves the way Sean sounds when he's desperate like this, the way he moves so impatiently. He pushes up into Sean and then does it again, not sure how long he can last.

God, God, please, soon, Sean thinks. Sean knows Bill's fully aware of just how much he needs to come, and he also knows better than to get pushy now, right when they're both so close they're practically holding their breath waiting for it. But Christ, waiting so much as another second seems so impossible just now. "Please!"

"Yeah," Bill says roughly. He reaches down and grabs Sean's cock, stroking it hard. "Come for me, boy."

Growling out something halfway between a curse and a moan, Sean thrusts with Bill's rhythm and comes as ordered, hard and hot all over Bill's fingers. He reaches back and gets his hands on Bill's hips, just trying to ground himself and keep from losing his balance--this feels so good it'd be easy to end up collapsed on the carpet.

Sliding his wet hand up Sean's chest, Bill manages a few more thrusts before he goes over the edge, clinging to Sean hard. "Jesus," he mutters, nuzzling Sean's damp skin. "I have the hottest boy...."

It's a little longer before Sean can talk again; for a while it's all about panting and leaning back against Bill. He licks his lips when he thinks he can talk again, and murmurs, "Thank you, Master."

"Mmmm," Bill murmurs, nuzzling Sean's neck before nipping it sharply. "I suppose we should get up and do stuff. I'd kind of like to just collapse on the floor right now and bask in the sun like Fidget."

Sean lets out an appreciative little hum of his own at the nuzzle and the bite. "No reason you couldn't, Master," he points out. He turns his head a little more so he can nuzzle back. "I can always get you packed while you're... basking."

"Are you kidding? If I bask, I want you with me." Bill winces, but doesn't stop nuzzling Sean. "I'm getting so fucking sentimental in my old age."

"No comment, Master," Sean says, but he's grinning; there are worse things than Bill's brand of sentimentality.