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Freight Train

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"You see anything?"

"Nah."  Darien dropped the binoculars into his lap and rubbed his tired eyes.  "We're wasting our time here."

Hobbes stared narrow-eyed at the hotel.  "He's in there."

"I *know* he's in there, we both saw him walk in.  But he's not coming *out* of there any time soon."

"Who's the professional here?"

"Look.  He's with his girlfriend, he's been in there for two hours. A guy like that doesn't take more than fifteen minutes with his girlfriend. If he was going to leave, he would have done it more than an hour ago."

"How do you know?  They could be up there finishing up an ecstasy of carnal delights.  He could walk out any minute."

"I know because I know.  He doesn't look like a guy who gives good head."  

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So what does a guy who gives good head look like?"

"Me."  

Hobbes snorted.  "Better watch that swelled ego, kid.  You won't be able to fit through the door."

"What, you think I'm lying?  You want proof?"

Hobbes glanced at him again and snickered.  Darien unfastened his seatbelt.  

"You're serious?"  Hobbes sounded incredulous.

"I never joke about something this important."  Darien had a rising feeling of excitement, the same kind he got before a really good heist. He reached for Hobbes' belt.

"Hey, Fawkes, uh--"  

"Nothing's going on out there!  Live a little."  Darien unbuckled Hobbes' belt and laid open his fly, revealing paisley silk boxers. Hobbes' expression was extraordinary, but he didn't move to stop him.

"Uh, Fawkes."

"Do you trust me, Bobby?"

Hobbes' eyebrows were perched halfway to his hairline, which was no mean feat; but he nodded very slowly.  "Sure."

Darien winked and dived into Hobbes' lap.  He didn't have a condom, but then, what was the point of being a master thief if you didn't snoop into your partner's medical records?  Bobby didn't have anything more contagious than paranoia.

He pulled the silk down from Hobbes' cock and took the head in his mouth, rubbing his thumb down the shaft. 

"Oh, God."  Hobbes moved one hand onto the back of Darien's head. Darien ran his tongue up and down the shaft, and Hobbes' fingers clenched painfully.

"Quit that!"  Darien pulled his mouth away and tugged Hobbes' hand away from his hair.  "Jeez, Hobbes, you trying to scalp me?"

"Uh?  No."

"Keep your hands to yourself, okay?  And scoot down, I need a better angle."  Darien pulled Hobbes forward on the seat and nudged his legs further apart, then went back down.  

He listened to Hobbes' accelerating breathing with a sense of deep satisfaction. He slid Hobbes' dick slowly into his mouth, stroking his tongue against the underside as he worked his lips down the shaft.  He bobbed his head, deep-throating, drawing a breathy groan from Hobbes.  

Darien had almost forgotten how much fun this was.  

Hobbes dug his fingers into the seat silently as Darien brought him closer to the edge.  "Fawkes--freight train--"

Freight train?  Oh--Hobbes was coming.  He pulled back just enough to catch it neatly in his mouth.  

Darien sat up and swiped his thumb across his lips, sucking his thumb clean with a flourish.  "Who's the man?"

"I'm the man," Hobbes said, relaxing his grip on the seat.  

Darien laughed.  "Admit it.  I have that magic touch."

"I'm the one who just got a blow job, therefore I am the man." He blinked hard.  "Fawkes, would you look at that?  We steamed up the windows.  Help me clean them off."

Darien rolled down his window, eyeing Hobbes.  "You know, you're more than welcome to even the score here."

"After work."  Hobbes exhaled firmly and picked up the binoculars.

"Selfish bastard."

"Hey!  My parents were married."

"You owe me."

"So give me an IOU."

"I will."  Darien looked around, finally grabbing a fast food receipt from the floor of the car.  "Give me a pen."

Hobbes pulled a pen from his pocket, frowning at the paper in Darien's hands as he wrote on the back.

"There.  'I, Robert Hobbes, owe my partner, Darien Fawkes, one (1) blow job.'  Sign it."  He handed over the receipt.

"I am offended."  Hobbes capped the pen with a sharp snap. "You think I don't uphold my debts?  You think I need some piece of paper to remind me?"  He shook his head sadly.  

"You said to give you an IOU."

"I meant a *virtual* IOU, as in, leave me alone until we're off-duty, all right?  *One* of us has got to stay focused here." Hobbes picked up the binoculars again.

Darien slouched down in his seat, propping one knee against the dash and his chin on his fist.  He stared at Hobbes until Hobbes turned to look back at him.

"What?"

"Freight train?"

Hobbes threw the pen at him.

end.