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Title: The Friendly Neighborhood Fairy
Characters: Quentin Kinley, Tyler Jordan Graham
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 8070
Notes: Tyler Jordan really enjoys the AUs where he gets to be the sexually experienced one instead of being a virgin before he meets Quentin. This AU didn't actually start from the premise "what if TJ was a prostitute", this AU started from the premise "what would have happened if TJ's addict mom had taken him when she left his father?" That doesn't actually get brought up in the text, but I think it's interesting. Also.... geez, Quentin, you're such a confused closet case. Poor thing.


Quentin wasn't gay. He wasn't. He just had an overactive imagination that liked to lead him down paths he knew he shouldn't go down. It was the sort of thing that got him into constant trouble, reading too much into other people's words, reacting to intents that people didn't actually have, wondering about things better left alone. He got into a lot of fights, always so defensive and quick to offend, but he couldn't help but wonder-- why was 'faggot' always the first insult people threw at him? Sure, he'd been called an asshole and a bastard and all sorts of derogatory things, but it seemed like four times out of five, it was always a gay slur they lead with. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Were they seeing something that he couldn't see himself?

The question preyed on his mind until he could barely think about anything else. He wasn't gay... was he? Sure, it had been a long time since he'd been with a woman, but the women he'd been with were evil, no kidding he tended to avoid them. That didn't mean he wanted to sleep with men, even if the thought crossed his mind sometimes. But it wasn't like he didn't have a sex drive... it was just a very frustrated one. And jerking off was so boring after nothing but that for a few years.

The question chased itself around his mind for weeks before it finally caught its own tail. He wasn't gay... but it couldn't hurt to make sure, could it? Just once. He'd try it and when he realized he didn't like it he could put the question down for good. It seemed like a good idea at the level of drunk he was, anyways, and before he could second-guess himself he left his apartment and headed in the direction of the only gay bar he knew about. He couldn't make himself go in when he got there, though, lingering across the street staring at the door wondering if having another drink was enough of a lure to make him go inside.

"This is my corner," someone said behind him, and Quentin startled and turned around to find a dark-haired man looking mostly amused. "Did I scare you?"

"A little," Quentin said, heart racing. "What do you mean it's your corner?"

"What do I mean--" The man looked Quentin over and blinked. "Well, if you don't know, then it's not why you're here."

"What?"

"Are you as drunk as you look, or are you always a little slow?"

"Fuck you," Quentin said, straightening up to his full (unimpressive) height and swaying slightly. "I'm not slow."

"But you are drunk."

"Yeah. I'm drunk."

"Did you come out of there, or are you planning on going in there?" the man asked, nodding across the street. Quentin sighed.

"I'm trying to go in there."

"You shouldn't do that in the state you're in," the man said. "Or you'll let the wrong kind of person take you home."

"What do you know about it?"

"More than I'd like to..." Quentin studied the man for a moment: dark, spiky hair, dark eyes, very tight shirt stretched across broad shoulders and sculpted arms, snug jeans with ripped knees. They were wearing matching red Converse. The man gave him a similarly intent look-over, and then he smiled a little sadly. "Come on, sweetheart. I'd hate to see the same thing happen to you that happened to me."

"What do you care?" Quentin scowled up at him, and the man shook his head.

"Just let me do a good deed, will you? I'm paying it forward. Maybe if I spare you some hassle someone will spare me some hassle." He set a hand on Quentin's shoulder and gave him a nudge down the street. "I feel the need to make sure you get home safely."

"I'm a fucking adult, I can make my own bad decisions," Quentin said, and the man sighed.

"Look, you wanna come back, come back when you're not staggering. You walk in there like this and I promise you it's gonna be a bad night for you."

"Who do you think you are, my fairy godmother?"

"Yeah. That's exactly what I am. The friendly neighborhood fairy. Where do you live?" Quentin hesitated, looking at the door of the bar and then looking at the earnest expression on the man's face. What had happened to him? Quentin was fairly sure that he didn't want to find out from experience.

"Partition and Sixth," he said, and the man nodded and set his arm around Quentin's shoulders, steering him away from the bar. "Who the hell are you, anyways?"

"You can call me TJ," the man said. "Hi. Who're you?"

"Quentin."

"Nice to meet you, Quentin. You are far too cute and far too drunk to go in there."

"So why were you there?" TJ arched an eyebrow at him, then shook his head.

"You're also far too naive to go in there."

"Fuck you, I'm not naive," Quentin said, bristling, and TJ sighed.

"I was working," he said, watching Quentin until understanding broke over him.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"You don't have to--"

"Shh. Doing a good deed."

"If it's such a bad place, why were you there?"

"It's not a bad place," TJ said. "There's just some bad people there. And I saw more than a couple of them go in tonight. You walk in there for the first time with your judgment this bad, one of those vultures would be the one to take you home. Trust me. Come back tomorrow, don't drink as much before you go, and don't take a drink from anyone except the bartender while you're there."

"Sounds shady as fuck," Quentin said, and TJ snorted.

"It's pretty shady. I'd suggest starting across town if this is your first time."

"I'm not planning on making it a habit."

"Oh? Just a tourist?"

"I'm--" Quentin hesitated, then mentally said 'fuck it' and went on. "I'm not gay. I'm just--"

"Curious?"

"I wanted to try it once to be sure I don't like it," he said, and TJ gave him a puzzled look.

"I’ve never heard that one before."

"It's been on my mind, okay? I was just wondering. It's been a really fucking long time since I got laid. Maybe I'm just going stir-crazy."

"Hey, you do you, man. Follow your bliss."

"I don't want to do me. I want to do someone else."

"Sure, right." They walked maybe a block in silence before Quentin looked up at TJ pensively.

"You, um... you said you were working."

"Yeah."

"Would you-- I mean, how much--" TJ sighed softly and patted Quentin's shoulder.

"You're too drunk."

"It wouldn't be the worst thing I ever did while I was drunk," Quentin said. "I probably wouldn't be trying to do it if I wasn't drunk. You can't take advantage of me if I'm paying you. It's obviously voluntary." They turned onto Partition Street, and Quentin stopped under a streetlight, one hand on TJ's chest. "We're almost there. I can get myself home from here. Or you can come with me."

"I shouldn't," TJ said.

"You wasted your time, then," Quentin said. "You might as well make it worth your while. I'm not looking for anything weird, I just want to know..."

"Are you even going to remember this in the morning?"

"I don't forget what I do when I'm drunk. I might regret what I do when I'm drunk, but I don't forget it. Look..." Quentin carded his hands through his hair and looked up at TJ plaintively. "If you don't, I'm just gonna go back there tomorrow. And I probably won't be less drunk because this is scary as fuck when I'm sober. You took pity on me once tonight. Do it one more time." TJ closed his eyes, lips pressing together, and Quentin sighed. "I can't even get a hooker to come home with me? That's fucking pathetic."

"You're not pathetic," TJ said, and he reached for Quentin's hand when he opened his eyes. "Fine. Yeah. Take me home with you." They didn't say anything until the door to Quentin's apartment closed behind them and Quentin waved a hand at the living room.

"Welcome to Casa del Kinley," he said. "What's the etiquette here? Should I offer you a drink before or after we discuss prices?"

"I'll take a beer if you've got one," TJ said, and he followed Quentin to the little kitchenette, accepting a bottle with a nod of thanks. "What do you-- do you know what you want?"

"Not really," Quentin said. "I just-- I said it's been a long time, right?"

"Yeah. How long?"

"Four years?" TJ whistled, and Quentin winced. "I mean, I'm probably not gonna take much of your time. Between how long it's been and you knowing what you're doing."

"Sweetheart, I have a moral obligation to get you off at least twice before I go."

"I don't-- I wasn't planning on picking up a-- I don't have a lot of money," Quentin said awkwardly. "If that changes your mind."

"Not really," TJ said. "Come here..." He pulled Quentin back out to the living room and onto the couch. "You want me to touch you?"

"Obviously."

"Can I kiss you?"

"I guess..." Quentin's brow furrowed slightly. "Did you go with anyone else tonight?"

"Nah. I stepped off the corner to grab a candy bar and you were standing there when I got back." TJ tucked Quentin's hair behind one ear and smiled at him. "I thought you were competition. You're cute." He leaned in a little closer and his smile widened. "Your eyes are so green. I couldn't tell in the streetlight. They're really pretty."

"Thank you," Quentin said, and his breath caught when TJ closed the distance between them to catch his mouth, a sweet and undemanding kiss. Quentin wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but gentleness wasn’t it-- that was what he got, though, fingers carding softly through his hair as TJ deepened the kiss, enticing Quentin to kiss back. He tasted like chocolate and caramel, and Quentin sighed quietly and curled a hand at the back of TJ’s neck as two kisses became three, then four, and then TJ pulled back slightly with one last brush of lips to lips.

“Do you know what you want yet?”

“A little bit of everything,” Quentin said. “I’m trying to prove something to myself.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“That I’m not gay.”

“Oh, I am the wrong person for you to have brought home if that’s your thesis,” TJ said. “Do you want me to do it all badly so you feel justified? Because otherwise you’re definitely gonna think you’re gay when I’m done with you.”

“No, do it right. Do it like…” Quentin paused, flushing, and TJ tilted his head. “Do it like you would if you were doing it because you like me and not because you’re a professional.”

“Okay,” TJ said softly, and he moved to straddle Quentin’s lap, both hands framing his face. “Not a hardship.” The next set of kisses were still sweet, but they were more intense, ending with a gentle nip to Quentin’s lower lip. Quentin gasped, clutching TJ’s waist, and TJ hummed and scratched his nails through Quentin’s hair. “You’re so cute. Are you sure you want to do this? Because I really want to, but I don’t want you to regret it when you sober up.”

“I’ll tell you if I want you to stop,” Quentin said. “Just be nice to me, okay?”

“I’ll be so nice. You won’t believe how nice I can be. Trust me, I promise that you’re gonna enjoy everything I do with you tonight. Sorry if that fucks up the conclusion you wanted to come to.”

“I’ll live.” TJ slid his hands under Quentin’s shirt and started to pull it up, then paused and turned his hand to stroke Quentin’s chest, grinning.

“Oh, nice. Here, let me see…” He tugged on Quentin’s shirt until Quentin took it the rest of the way off, and then he rubbed both hands across Quentin’s hairy chest. “Well, that gives you an unfair advantage. You look sexy as hell with your shirt off.”

“I’m almost certain that I don’t have any advantage over you,” Quentin said. “And you don’t have to lie to me. That wasn’t what I meant by be nice.”

“I’m not lying. We all want what we can’t have, right? I can’t grow chest hair to save my life. I think it’s super hot on other people.” TJ rolled a nipple between finger and thumb and smiled at Quentin’s little gasp. Quentin’s cheeks started to flush as arousal kindled in him, and TJ kissed him again, tracing his nails through Quentin’s chest hair and pinching his nipples experimentally to make him gasp again. “You like that?”

“Yeah… do it with your nails?” Quentin bit his lip on a groan when TJ did. “Why does that feel so good?”

“Some people like it, some people don’t. You seem sensitive… Means you should be easy to please.” TJ trailed a hand down Quentin’s chest and tucked two fingers under the fly of his jeans. “You’re not too drunk for this to work, are you?” Quentin gave him an unimpressed look and canted his hips slightly.

“It might take more than thirty seconds to turn me on,” he said. “I’m pretty sure it won’t take more than a couple of minutes if you’re trying.”

“Appealing to my sense of professional pride, huh?”

“I don’t want you to have the mistaken impression that I’m easy.” Quentin slid his hands under TJ’s shirt and tugged it up. “But if you want to turn me on, taking your clothes off can’t hurt.” TJ flashed a grin and pulled the shirt over his head, and Quentin didn’t even realize that he made a sound when he reached for TJ, hands skimming down his perfectly defined chest. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” TJ leaned down to kiss him again, pressing Quentin’s shoulders against the back of the couch as he dipped his head to mouth at Quentin’s throat. Quentin’s hands settled on TJ’s hips and pulled him closer.

“Could you-- do you think you could, I mean…”

“Tell me what you want,” TJ said, pulling back enough to look at Quentin’s flushed cheeks. “I can pretty much guarantee you can’t ask for anything I haven’t heard before.”

“I like being bitten,” Quentin said, and TJ arched a brow. “If that’s not too weird.”

“That’s not really weird at all,” TJ assured him. “Anywhere in particular?”

“Where you just had your mouth is a good start. My shoulders. Um, I don’t really know-- I think I’d probably like it other places but I don’t have proof.”

“Well, tonight is all about testing your theories, isn’t it? Let me know if I should stop.” TJ nuzzled against his neck again before gently scraping his teeth against Quentin’s skin, then biting where Quentin’s neck met his shoulder. The sound Quentin made was pure approval, and he dug his fingers into TJ’s hair to keep him there a moment longer.

“Yeah. Do it a little harder--? Fuck!” TJ pulled back and ran his fingers over the mark he’d left on Quentin’s skin.

“You probably don’t want me leaving marks…”

“Go ahead and leave them. I really don’t care what other people think.”

“I really wish I knew how much of what you’re saying now you would mean if you were sober.”

“You’re bizarrely moral for a prostitute, has anyone ever told you that?”

“You’re not the first.” TJ shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “Consent is important.”

“I’m consenting. I’m enthusiastically consenting. Please stop asking if I’m sure, if I change my mind you’ll be the first to know.” Quentin took TJ’s hand and pulled it between them, pressing his fingers to where Quentin was unmistakably aroused. “See? Not too drunk, not uninterested. One hundred percent right here and on board. Don’t stop.” TJ moved his hand, taking the shape of Quentin through his jeans, and grinned at him.

“All right. Sorry to be all hyper-concerned. I just don’t want you waking up tomorrow cursing my name or anything.”

“Not likely. But I might curse tonight if you don’t do something besides sit on my lap and talk.”

“Then by all means, let me do something besides that.” TJ stood up, and Quentin sighed.

“Not what I meant.”

“Quit bitching and show me your bedroom.”

“Oh, okay.” Quentin’s bedroom was kind of messy, clothes on the floor and posters on the wall, a queen sized bed covered in pillows dominating the room. TJ looked around with an approving nod, then bent to unlace his sneakers and kick them off. Quentin couldn’t resist squeezing his ass while he was bent over, and TJ laughed.

“I’ve been told that’s my best feature.”

“I don’t know about that…” TJ arched an eyebrow as he straightened up, and Quentin waved at him. “You’ve got a lot of really great features.”

“You’re sweet.”

“I’m pretty sure that you’re sweeter.” Quentin caught him around the waist and kissed him again, and hummed quietly. “You are sweet, though.”

“Take your pants off and I’ll show you how much sweeter I can be.” Quentin almost fell over trying to get his shoes off, and TJ laughed and pushed him down to sit on the bed. “Calm down, let me help.” He went to his knees to pull the knots from Quentin’s laces and slip the high-tops off his feet, then glanced inside the shoes. “We have the same shoe size and we’re wearing the same shoes. Weird.”

“Is this some sort of Cinderella thing?”

“Seems to be the theme of the night.” TJ worked Quentin’s jeans open and pulled them down his legs. “You’re so slim. You could probably be a Disney princess if you wanted to,” he joked, and Quentin scowled at him. “All right, less talking and more kissing, I can read that expression.”

“Just don’t tease me,” Quentin said, and TJ grinned.

“I don’t tease. Tease implies no follow-through. I always follow through.” Quentin went to retort, but whatever he was going to say evaporated into a gasp when TJ ran his hands up Quentin’s thighs and leaned in to catch a nipple in his mouth. Just a little bit of teeth got the most delicious needy sounds out of Quentin, and TJ couldn’t help biting a little harder on the other side to vocal approval. He settled a hand on Quentin’s cock through the thin layer of his boxers and found him absolutely raring to go. “So you like it to hurt a bit,” he said, looking up at Quentin.

“Yeah. I guess.” Quentin sounded totally breathless, and his flushed cheeks and heavy-lidded eyes were far less diffident than his words. “Is that weird?”

“Not even a little.” TJ caught a hand at the back of Quentin’s neck and pulled him down for another kiss, ending it with a bite to Quentin’s lower lip. “Do you have an idea of what you want now?”

“Maybe? I said I wanted a little of everything…”

“Everything is a lot. Let’s narrow it down. I’m pretty sure you’re on board for me to blow you…”

“Yes please.”

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Quentin bit his lip, flush darkening another shade, and TJ had to kiss him again. “I’ll take it slow when I open you up. You’ll be so ready for it by the time I push into you, promise.”

“Yes,” Quentin said, “that’s-- kind of the point of this, isn’t it?”

“Well, I mean, if you’re just trying to do gay things, there’s a lot besides getting fucked. You could see how you feel about sucking cock, or doing the fucking, or like a dozen other things.”

“Is there a good reason for me not to put your dick in my mouth?”

“Not unless you’ve got a disease, because I don’t.”

“Then I want to try that too.”

“Cool. No pressure or anything, this is just about finding out what you enjoy.”

“I’m almost certain that I’ll enjoy fucking you regardless of how I feel about the rest of it.”

“So that makes you a pretty typical guy,” TJ laughed, and he curled his fingers in the waist of Quentin’s boxers. “Okay, so we have a game plan. I’m gonna make you feel so good, you don’t even know yet.”

“Prove it,” Quentin said, and TJ dragged his boxers off his legs and wrapped a hand around Quentin as he got settled between Quentin’s legs. He trailed a line of soft bites up Quentin’s thigh on his way to take Quentin’s cock in his mouth, and Quentin let out a shivery moan and fell back against the bed, catching himself on his elbows before he fell flat. “Holy shit, yes.”

TJ wasn’t even trying to get Quentin off at first, just to make him feel good. He didn’t want to say anything to point out how vocal Quentin was being in case it made him stop, but it was incredibly easy to tell how much Quentin was enjoying TJ’s attention from his gasps and sighs and moans. After a couple of minutes, Quentin let go of his tight grip on the bedsheets and carded his fingers through TJ’s hair, and TJ glanced up and winked at him as he swallowed around Quentin. When he nudged Quentin’s legs further apart and let his fingertips explore Quentin’s ass, Quentin tensed up, but he didn’t tell TJ to stop.

TJ rubbed at Quentin’s hole with the pad of his thumb while he sucked him, just enough pressure to not be teasing, so patient as the tension melted out of Quentin until he was relaxed and pliant. The timbre of Quentin’s moans pitched upward when TJ’s thumb pressed in just a little, but the sound was clearly pleasure and not distress. TJ pulled off and looked up at Quentin, smiling to find dazed green eyes looking back at him. “Do you want it?”

“Yeah… please,” Quentin breathed, and TJ sucked his thumb for a second to get it wet and very slowly pushed it into Quentin, watching carefully as Quentin gasped and arched to meet the touch. “Oh, fuck, I’m not supposed to like it.”

“I told you it would feel good,” TJ murmured. “I promised you, actually.”

“You did, I just didn’t-- oh, goddammit-- I thought you lied.”

“I never lie about pleasure.” TJ didn’t move his thumb once it was all the way in, just let it rest inside of Quentin, giving him a chance to get used to the feeling. “Is this the first time you’ve had something in there?”

“Yeah. I never did more than touch in the shower. It was too gay.”

“Nah, plenty of straight guys like things in their asses,” TJ said. “There’s a whole kink built around women fucking straight men in the ass with strapons. There’s so many nerve endings there, it feels good no matter who’s touching it for you.” He turned his hand to rub Quentin’s perineum with his fingertips. “I’m better at it than a woman, though. Cause I know what it feels like myself.”

“It’s weird, but-- oh!” Quentin twitched when TJ pulled his thumb out and rubbed at him again. “Fuck. It’s weird but I want you to keep doing it.”

“I have no intention of stopping unless you tell me to.” TJ grinned up at him. “I’m barely started with you, sweetheart. You said you wanted a little bit of everything and that’s what you’re gonna get.” He pulled a small bottle of lube from his back pocket and got his fingers slick before slipping his first finger in, not quite as slowly this time. The way Quentin wiggled and sighed was enticing, and TJ scattered kisses on his thighs as he worked a second finger in. “How’s that feel? Still good?”

“I think so,” Quentin said. “You could go a little faster.”

“Are you in a rush? I told you I was gonna take it slow. This isn’t something you wanna speed through. Especially not your first time. The last thing I wanna do is hurt you.”

“Didn’t we just say that I like it to hurt a little?”

“Trust me, not like this.”

“Fine, you’re the expert. I’m not fragile though. I still think you could go faster.”

“You’re bossy, are you always this bossy?”

“Yes,” Quentin said, “I really am, but this is a new situation to apply it to. What do I have to do to get you to put your mouth back on my cock instead of teasing me?”

“Say please.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top.”

“Sugar, I’m not gonna leave you with a cherry to offer,” TJ quipped, and Quentin’s snort of laughter turned into a gasp when TJ did as requested, licking him like an ice cream cone.

“Fuck, that feels so good. I’m such an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t like this. You did warn me.” TJ crooked his fingers and Quentin jolted. “Fuck. What--?” Laughing, TJ touched that spot inside Quentin again and Quentin couldn’t even make words that time, just moaned and clutched at TJ’s shoulder.

“And that’s why even straight guys like butt play,” TJ said. “God, you make the best sounds. I almost can’t wait to fuck you, but it won’t be too long now… think you’re ready for one more finger?”

“Give it to me,” Quentin demanded, and his head fell back against the bed as TJ dragged two fingers out and pressed back in with three, slow and steady.

“You’re taking it so well. How long have you been wondering what it would be like to get fucked?”

“A pretty long time,” Quentin admitted. “I didn’t think it would be like this.”

“If you’d gone home with someone else, it wouldn’t have been like this.” TJ twisted his fingers, and Quentin lifted his head to meet TJ’s dark eyes.

“I’m glad you stopped me from going in there.” TJ smiled and kept carefully opening Quentin up.

“So am I. This is a much preferable use of my night than what I thought it was gonna be.” His fingers kept working on Quentin for a long moment, and then he kissed Quentin’s thigh. “I think you’re ready now. Do you want my dick?”

“Are you gonna make me say it?” TJ grinned at him, and Quentin snorted. “Fine. Please fuck me, TJ. I need to know what it feels like.”

“Being asked politely is such a novelty,” TJ said, pulling a condom out of his pocket before shedding his jeans entirely. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Quentin watched him roll the condom on, feeling eager and nervous and beyond ready. “Should I stay like this?”

“It’s up to you,” TJ said. “Either way, I’m gonna get you off. Are you comfortable like this or would you rather turn over?”

“I’d rather keep looking at you.”

“You are sweet, aren’t you? Here, put your legs like this…” TJ hooked Quentin’s legs over his shoulders and lined up. “Don’t forget to breathe,” he added, and he pressed into Quentin’s body as Quentin exhaled, turning a breath into a moan as Quentin’s hands knotted in the bedsheets.

“Oh god. Oh, my god.” Quentin’s back arched as TJ filled him, and he shivered all over when TJ bottomed out and wrapped his hand around Quentin’s cock. “This feels amazing. Please…”

“Please what?”

“Please don’t hold back.”

“Sweetheart, trust me, you’ll get what you can take.” They had differing definitions of the phrase; Quentin thought that what he could take was anything that wouldn’t break him, but TJ was just aiming to get him off, and that barely took any time at all after how wound up Quentin was from the things TJ had already done to him. A few thrusts and a firm grip had him crying out as he careened over the edge of control, and TJ slowed down but didn’t stop as Quentin went boneless with pleasure beneath him. “There you go. How’s that feel? You needed it.”

“I did,” Quentin said, and he curled a hand around TJ’s hip and smiled up at him, dazed and blissful. “I didn’t think it would be this good. I didn’t really think it would be good at all.”

“I told you to trust me, didn’t I? I wasn’t planning to let you down.” TJ kissed one of Quentin’s ankles, then carefully withdrew from him, drawing a quiet sigh from Quentin. “Where’s your bathroom? Wanna clean up before we switch gears…”

“On the right.” Quentin stretched out as TJ left the room, feeling different in his whole body, like he’d been switched on after a lifetime of being in standby mode. A minute later TJ came back, washcloth in one hand, and he paused at the foot of the bed.

“You look ridiculously satisfied. Like you should be purring.”

“I feel like I should be.” Quentin shifted ticklishly as TJ cleaned him up a bit, then pulled TJ back onto the bed to kiss him some more. “What should we-- I should do something for you.”

“Touch me,” TJ said, taking Quentin’s hand and putting it on his chest. “Anywhere you like. See how you feel about touching a male body.”

“You have an amazing body,” Quentin told him, fingertips skimming down the center of his chest before coming back up to lightly pinch a nipple. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got the nicest body I’ve ever been this close to.”

“I have to tell you, saying things like that makes your ‘I’m not gay’ premise look pretty shaky,” TJ said with a laugh. “But thank you.”

“Don’t remind me.” Quentin glanced down as his hand moved lower, grazing against TJ’s cock tentatively, and he bit his lip as he took him in hand. “I can’t be the first guy with questions you’ve come home with.”

“Not even close, but most of them say ‘I think I might be gay,’ not ‘I’m not gay but let’s fuck just to check’. You’re a rare bird.”

“At least you didn’t call me a cuckoo,” Quentin said. “Is this okay? I’m not… I’m not just out of my mind, am I?”

“You might be a little crazy, but I don’t mind.” TJ curled a hand at the back of Quentin’s neck and kissed him again. “You’re sweet and you seem nice and we’re both having fun. You are still having fun, right?”

“More than I expected to be, yeah.”

“Then don’t worry about it. Tighten your grip a little? Don’t be shy, you’re doing good.” TJ was quieter than Quentin, sighing against his cheek as he canted his hips into Quentin’s touch. “It’s not tough, right? It’s a lot like doing it alone, just from a different angle.”

“Can I--” Quentin ducked his head slightly, hair falling into his eyes, and moved to kiss TJ’s neck, then continued trailing kisses downward.

“Yes please. Are you always this brave or is it because you’re drunk?”

“Most people call it recklessness and not bravery,” Quentin said against TJ’s hip. “Or stupidity. I hear that a lot too.”

“Well, I think you’re brave. You’re facing up to something that scares you.”

“I don’t want to deflate your ego, but it’s not big enough to be scary,” Quentin said dryly, eyeing TJ’s cock in his hand with slight trepidation. “Don’t make me second-guess myself.”

“I’m not trying to! I’m trying to be encouraging.”

“Just… tell me if I’m doing it wrong, you don’t have to fluff my ego. And sorry if I’m terrible.”

“Don’t use your teeth and it’ll be fine,” TJ said, carding his fingers through Quentin’s hair. “Maybe start with licking. Don’t rush, take it slow.”

“Any other advice?”

“Relax. And if you decide you don’t like it, stop. No harm, no foul. I won’t be offended.”

“Okay,” Quentin said, and he glanced up at TJ with wide eyes before leaning in the last little bit to touch his tongue to TJ’s heated skin. ‘Take it slow’ was advice Quentin was almost never going to heed. He licked a few times but quickly moved on to taking the tip between his lips, looking up again.

“Oh, man. I don’t know if this is a thing you’re gonna do more, but you should definitely look up sometimes when you do it. Your eyes are beautiful and you look so hot right now.” Quentin looked skeptical, but didn’t stop, and TJ sighed and stroked his hair gently. “Yeah. You’re doing good.” Quentin took him a little deeper, then backed off, curling a hand around TJ as he pulled away.

“That’s one more gay thing I apparently don’t mind doing,” he said. “How long does a good blowjob last?”

“Depends on the guy… some people come really quickly from it, some people don’t come from it at all.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not gonna complain if you wanna keep going, but to be perfectly honest I’d rather come riding you into the mattress.” Quentin’s eyes widened, and TJ grinned at him. “Just as a matter of personal preference.”

“Are you just saying that to get me to hurry up?”

“Sweetheart, I told you this already tonight: I never lie about pleasure. Take as much time as you like. Is doing this turning you on, or do you need a hand…?”

“Yes to both,” Quentin said, and TJ laughed. “What should I do?”

“Come here and lay next to me… yeah, you’ve got the idea. Don’t lose focus and bite me,” TJ warned, running his hands along Quentin’s thighs when Quentin shifted to lie opposite him. “Or I will comprehensively fail you at your very first Gay 101 lesson.”

“What’s my grade right now?”

“Mm, a solid B+. You’re doing well. Can’t give you that A before you’ve got the full experience, though. Well, unless you’re not interested in topping, I’m not trying to tell you what you have to do.”

“No, I’m definitely interested in it,” Quentin said, giving TJ’s ass a squeeze to show how interested he actually was. “An ass as nice as yours transcends sexual orientation, I think.”

“Considering I’ve had lesbians pinch my ass, you may be correct.”

“Do you go with women?”

“Yeah, totally. Not as often. Maybe a third of the time. Ladies tend to prefer to make appointments.” TJ pinched Quentin’s hip gently. “Okay, I’m not saying this to rush you, I’m saying it because it’s genuinely what I want… I’m pretty eager for you to fuck me. So I hope you won’t mind if we don’t spend a lot of time sixty-nining. Cause that’s usually better in theory than in practice anyways.”

“Really?”

“Have you ever done anything else successfully while getting your dick sucked?”

“Uh… I think you’re wildly overestimating the number of opportunities I’ve had to determine that.”

“Oh, honey.”

“Especially compared to your outsized sample size.”

“Well, take it from me, multitasking during a blowjob is harder than you think it’ll be. Even for a professional.”

“Duly noted, but I still want to do it,” Quentin said, and he went back to licking at TJ, cautious until TJ swallowed him down and-- as predicted-- thoroughly broke Quentin’s concentration. It took a few moments for him to recollect it, but he was determined to please TJ and it wasn’t difficult to just imitate whatever TJ did to him, albeit with a lot less skill. TJ encouraged him with happy hums and his hands stroking Quentin’s hips and thighs, but before long he pulled away and reached down to nudge Quentin back. “What, am I doing bad?”

“No! No, you’re doing great, I’m just impatient. And I’m not embarrassed to ask for what I want. Will you let me ride you now?”

“Yeah? Yes, one hundred percent yes,” Quentin said, and TJ grinned at him and slid off the bed to retrieve another condom from his jeans. “Do you want that to keep me from fucking it up?”

“You’re really defensive, aren’t you? You don’t have to be. I like being in control, that’s all. And I like that position. If you’d rather be in control, that’s fine, just say so.”

“No, it’s okay, I--” Quentin paused, looking surprised, as TJ climbed back onto the bed, then finished his thought. “I trust you.”

“Thank you, sweetheart, that means a lot to me,” TJ said. “Most people don’t, just because of what I do. So… thanks.” He leaned down to kiss Quentin sweetly while he rolled the condom onto him, kept kissing him as he straddled Quentin’s lap and sank down around him, swallowed Quentin’s gasp as they joined. Quentin clutched TJ’s hips and held him still, and TJ pulled back slightly to look at him, finding his eyes tightly shut. “You okay?”

“I’m-- this isn’t--” Quentin couldn’t seem to catch his breath. TJ stroked his hair gently.

“Shh, you’re okay. Want me to stop?”

No,” Quentin said immediately, opening his eyes. “No, don’t stop. This just doesn’t feel like any sex I’ve had before.”

“It wouldn’t,” TJ said. “All things considered. How’s it stack up to what you had before?”

“I’m an idiot for not trying this sooner, I think.” Quentin’s grip on TJ’s hips loosened slightly. “Please move? Slowly?”

“You got it.” TJ braced his hands against Quentin’s chest and started to rock his hips, just a little, absolutely captivated by how broken-open Quentin’s expression was at the sensation. There was no guile in him at all, nothing but a pure response to what TJ was making him feel, and that more than anything was what TJ got off on, that sort of essential honesty, no interference between action and reaction. “You’re fucking beautiful like this,” he said, honest himself, lost in Quentin’s pleasure-dazed eyes as he slowly picked up the pace. When he pinched Quentin’s nipples with his nails, Quentin whimpered and thrust up into him, his own nails biting into TJ’s hips, and that set them both racing toward the end.

“Fuck… please,” Quentin gasped as his hips snapped up, not knowing what he was begging for, just knowing that TJ could give it to him. Acting on pure instinct, TJ leaned down, wrapping one hand snugly around Quentin’s throat as he kissed him hard, and Quentin’s fingers on TJ’s hips bit bruisingly rough as he shuddered and came almost instantly. TJ hummed with pleasure and reached down with that hand to stroke himself off, coming messily over Quentin’s hairy stomach a minute later with a low moan. For a moment he stayed right there on top of Quentin, studying the expression on his face as they both caught their breath, and then he shifted off of Quentin’s lap with a groan and reached for the washcloth he’d left on the edge of the bed to wipe the worst of the mess off of Quentin before he let himself collapse.

TJ sprawled facedown on the bed next to Quentin with a deeply satisfied sigh, and Quentin curled a hand at the back of his neck and watched him quietly until TJ turned to look at him. Quentin bit his lip, and TJ lifted himself up long enough to steal a kiss before settling down again. “Mm. That was fun. You think so?”

“More fun than I’ve had in years,” Quentin said, but he was already starting to look worried again. “So… what do I owe you for all of this?”

“Just because I do sex work doesn’t mean that every time I have sex it’s work,” TJ said. “It was a genuine pleasure to do this with you, Quentin. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Are you-- are you sure? I don’t want to waste your time--” Quentin stopped short when TJ kissed him again.

“You didn’t waste my time at all. There’s more important things than money. Did you answer your questions about yourself?”

“I think so,” Quentin breathed. “It’s not the answer I wanted. But I don’t know if I’d enjoy it with anyone or if I just enjoyed it because you’re so good at it.”

“Guess you’re just gonna have to try it with someone else,” TJ said. “The advice I gave you before stands, though. Don’t go back to that bar as drunk as you were tonight. I don’t want you to get preyed on.”

“I--” Quentin looked down and sighed before meeting TJ’s eyes again. “Could I have your number? If I wanted to see you again? If you don’t mind…”

“I don’t mind,” TJ said with a smile. “Let me see your phone and I’ll put it in.” He didn’t just put his number in-- he took a selfie for a contact photo and changed his ringtone too, then handed it back to Quentin. “Send me a text so I can save you…” Then he took a picture of Quentin to use as his contact photo. Quentin scowled and reached for his phone.

“Don’t-- that probably looks terrible, delete it.” TJ pulled it away, shaking his head.

“It doesn’t look terrible. You’re cute. A little bit disheveled, but every time you text me I’m gonna see this picture and remember how sweet you were in the afterglow.” Quentin flushed a little, and TJ brushed a thumb across his cheek and stole another kiss. “Mm… I have to stop. Or I’ll want to stay here and kiss you all night.”

“I guess you have to get back to work…” TJ shook his head.

“It’s too late. I’m just going home.”

“Well… if you’re just going home… do you want to stay a little longer? Not for-- I mean, just to hang out. Or… whatever you want to do, I just--” Quentin ducked his head slightly. “I don’t want tonight to be over any sooner than it has to be.” TJ studied him for a quiet moment and then smiled.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“We could watch something or play something or--” Quentin fell silent when TJ pressed two fingers to his lips.

“I think that what I really want to do would mess with your head,” he said softly, and Quentin gave him a skeptical look and bit his fingers.

“You’ve already messed with my head. I’m not the same person I was two hours ago. And… you might say I don’t owe you, but I still feel like I owe you. Tell me what you want?”

“If we could cuddle for a little while… That’s something that I don’t get to do very often.”

“That’s it? Wow, what a hardship. Maybe you should go.” TJ froze, and Quentin rolled his eyes and pulled him closer. “Sorry. Sarcasm. Can’t turn it off. Yeah, if you want to cuddle let’s do that. I don’t do it very often either.” TJ huffed out a breath, and Quentin sighed, wrapping his arms around TJ and settling a hand warmly on the back of his neck. “You were right, though,” he added conversationally. “This is going to fuck with my head. Because I’m going to think that you actually like me.”

“I do actually like you,” TJ said, wiggling a little to get comfortable in Quentin’s embrace and curling a leg on top of Quentin’s legs. “I’m not pretending to like you. If I’d been pretending to like you, I would have left already.”

“I don’t understand why you stayed,” Quentin said. “You barely know me at all and you’ve been so kind to me.”

“I had a good feeling about you,” TJ said. “Usually when I get that feeling it’s to my benefit to follow up on it. That’s how I met my bandmates.”

“You’re in a band?”

“Yeah. That’s what I do, that’s-- what I tell people I do when they ask. I’m a musician. That’s my day job. It doesn’t pay the bills but it’s what I love.”

“But your night job…”

“Nobody tells me what to do. I set my own hours, I decide who I’ll go with. It’s mostly great. The parts that aren’t great… can be pretty terrible, honestly, but the good outweighs the bad. I’m good at it and it’s usually fun and it pays really, really well.” TJ shrugged slightly. “And once I invested in some self-defense classes the bad parts don’t happen as often any more.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“A few years. Started when I was seventeen. I’m not going into my tragic backstory, tell me something about yourself.”

“Uh…” Quentin chewed on his lip for a second and smiled faintly. “We both have tragic backstories. I don’t know, I’m not that interesting. I work in a call center, I smoke a lot of weed, I watch too much Netflix.”

“What do you want to be doing? If you could do anything?”

“Anything? I’d want to be an actor. I’m…” He paused, and TJ lifted his head with a question in his eyes. “I’m really good at pretending to be something I’m not,” Quentin said softly. “I’m so good at it that I even fool myself sometimes. That never ends well, though.”

“So what are you really?”

“Nothing good. Lonely. Sad. Violent, sometimes. Gay, apparently, if tonight was anything to go by, but I don’t know how much of that having been the best sex I’ve ever had was because you’re a professional and how much of it was because it had been so long and how much of it was because that’s what I’m wired for…”

“We could confound at least one of those premises,” TJ said. “You’d need a third party to check the first one.”

“And the third one?”

“That just has to be repeatedly tested for you to know for sure.” TJ smiled lopsidedly. “But you certainly seemed to enjoy yourself tonight.”

“No kidding.”

“You’re the only one who knows who you’re really attracted to.”

“I’m really attracted to you,” Quentin said, and TJ’s smile widened.

“Is that because I’m your type, or is that because you’ve imprinted on me like an adorable gay duckling?”

“Fuck if I know.” Quentin shrugged, aiming for nonchalance with his body language, but his gaze was intent on TJ. “But you gave me your number. So I’m probably going to stop wasting money on stupid shit so I can afford as much of your time as you’re willing to let me have.”

“That’s sweet,” TJ said. “I’m not going to take your money, but I appreciate the intention.”

“If you don’t want to see me again you should take your number out of my phone.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to see you. I said I’m not going to take your money. As soon as you pay me, you’re a client. Right now-- and hopefully if we see each other again-- I’m here with you simply because I want to be.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe I’m a bad businessman,” TJ said. “But I told you this already. There are more important things than money. So if you still want to see me once you sober up, send me a text, and I’ll hang out with you after my gig tomorrow. And if you sober up and decide this was a mistake, you can take my number out of your phone yourself. But I hope you won’t.”

“You want me to come to your show?”

“Yeah, why not? If you hate my music you can bail. But if you hate my music this probably isn’t going anywhere.”

“What kind of music do you play?”

“Pop punk.”

“Well, unless you totally suck, I’m probably gonna like it.”

“I only suck when I’m on my knees. With my guitar in my hands I totally rock.”

“Then I will be happy to come see you play.”

“Stellar.” TJ grinned as he leaned in for a kiss, and Quentin held him tighter and kissed him back, sleepy and sated and happier than he could remember being in years. This wasn’t the answer Quentin had wanted to his question, but he had a feeling that this was a better answer than the one he thought he’d get, and the process of finding the answer had been delightful. He didn’t know where this was going… but for the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to finding out.

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