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ajremixTitle from the musical Falsettos. A sort of loose prequel to my role play dating series.
Title: The Thrill of First Love
Fandom: DC TV
Rating: edging into R
Word Count: 7546
In Responds to: ColdWave Week 2018: Date Night
Characters: Len, Mick, random ocs
Warnings: referenced child abuse, some slut shaming, mild violence
Summary: Four role plays that didn't end up as intended and one that worked out anyway.
The First Time
Len checked himself in the mirror for the third or fourth time that hour. He was nervous, excited and had no clue what clothing was apropos to wear given the situation.
The situation being a date. With Mick.
Though the word ‘date’ was a little bit strong given it was more of a ‘meet up to have sex’ deal. Not that either actual dates or booty calls with Mick was unusual anymore it was just that this particular time was unique as they had actually talked this out first. This would be the first time they’d be role playing.
Mick had been surprisingly against it at first. Adamantly so. Len hadn’t considered Mick would turn down anything that got him sex- specifically sex with Len -especially for something as tame as this but Len had to wear him down over the course of a month for it. The scene wasn’t anything complicated or ostentatious, just the standard ‘plumber come to lay some pipe’ type deal. They wouldn’t be leaving the apartment, it would take minimal acting and no one would see them.
And, the condition that eventually won Mick over, if he didn’t like it after the first time, Len wouldn’t ask him again. But he’d have to make an actual effort of it. Len was determined to make this work as he had some very specific and elaborate fantasies he was hoping to sell Mick on after he’d gotten comfortable with the act. Which was why Len kept overthinking his wardrobe. All the research he’d done watching shitty porn role plays had been fairly exclusively women in sheer robes and teddies, fawning against the door as they let the handyman in.
It didn’t really give Len a lot of options or ideas. In the end he decided on one of Mick’s button-up flannels, because Mick loved Len wearing his clothes, with the barest few buttons done up so it threatened to slide off one shoulder. Under that was a pair of old jeans whose various holes- which caused Len to stop wearing them originally -had been carefully worked wider to give off tantalizing glimpses of pale skin. In addition to that was a couple polished rings and a pendant necklace that hung to rest on his breastbone because Mick liked shiny things.
There was a knock on the door and Len sucked in a breath. He checked himself in the mirror one last time, ran a hand through his hair, too short to do anything with, and went to the door. He checked the peephole, just in case, and after seeing Mick there, opened the door. He leaned against it, angling his shoulders so his shirt fell open just a little bit more. “Yes?”
Mick stood there looking more than a little uncomfortable. He had a toolbox in one hand and a toolbelt low on his hips. The coveralls he wore were slightly too small on Mick which made them very tight around the thighs and ass and impossible to zip all the way due to Mick’s broad shoulders. Which meant showing off a lot of chest under a tight, all but transparent white tank top. Len had picked out his clothes specifically and he licked his lips because Mick looked better than he imagined. “You called a plumber?” Mick asked, voice gruff and a little stiff.
“Of course,” Len stepped back, sultry and low, sweeping a hand in invitation, “come in.”
Mick just shouldered his way in with a grunt, barely giving Len a second glance which caused Len to frown. Guess he was playing hard to get. That was fine. Len squared his shoulders and followed, refusing to be deterred. Mick was already in the kitchen, rattling around the cabinet under the sink. Plumbing was one of the few maintenance areas Mick didn’t actually know anything about. Len leaned up next to him, almost close enough to brush up against Mick’s shoulder with his leg. Close enough that Mick could lean over and lick at an exposed strip of thigh through a ragged hole if he wanted to.
Len frowned harder when Mick didn’t take a peek. “So,” Len said conversationally, “do you have any ideas what the problem might be?”
“Probably a clog or something.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to take care of me.” When Mick just grunted, Len bit back a snap to at least give him something to work with. “You certainly seem capable with those big, strong hands of yours.”
“I guess.”
Len dropped his head back and seethed between his teeth. “Mick.”
The clattering stopped. “What?”
“You said you’d at least try.”
Mick pulled back, glaring up at Len. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“Act interested, maybe?”
“I’d be more interested if I didn’t have to do this stupid act!” Mick pushed himself off the floor, stomping to the opposite side of the kitchen, turning to glare at Len with his arms crossed. “It’s just sex, why d'you wanna complicate it?”
Despite himself, Len felt himself getting angry on top of frustrated. “What, you want to go back to fumbled handjobs that we’d pretend never happened? Because you fucking me is more complicated than that. This,” he waved a hand between the two of them, “being open about sex and what we wanted complicated shit. But suddenly me wanting to try something new is crossing a line.”
“I just don’t get it!” Mick exploded. “Why do you need,” he waved at the toolbelt and coveralls, “all this? What I do isn’t good enough anymore?”
Something in Mick’s voice, in his choice of words made Len stop short and from the way Mick clenched his jaw, like he’d said too much, made it obvious there was something in there that needed unpacking. “Mick,” he said quietly and Mick looked away, knowing a conversation he didn’t want to have was coming, “what’s the real problem you’re having with this?”
Mick pressed his lips into a thin line, wanting and not wanting to say at the same time. Len waited, patiently, eyes intent on his partner. Eventually Mick ducked his head lower, shoulders hunched defensively. His voice was so low Len leaned in slightly to hear. “Isn’t this enough for you?”
Len drew back, surprised and a little stung. “Wait, you think I’ve been pushing for this role playing stuff because I’m not satisfied with you?” Mick hunched his shoulders further. “Look at me- Mick, look at me.” When Mick did so, Len held his eyes and said very seriously, “That is absolute crap. The only reason I’m willing to do this at all is because you’re the only one I’d be comfortable doing this with.”
“But you want to pretend I’m someone else,” he said quietly.
Len had to shut his eyes and take a deep breath. He’d been trying, for years, to help Mick through his issues, just as Mick had been trying to deal with Len’s. But that right there smacked of the father Mick could never do right by, the grandmother convinced that the devil lived inside Mick, the mother that thought her youngest son was some sort of punishment and if they weren’t already dead, Len would be sorely tempted to kill them for the damage they’d done to his partner.
“It’s not like that,” he said when he was certain he had his voice under control. “It’s like… Remember eight months ago, when we hit that auction?”
The memory brought a gleam of amusement to Mick’s eyes. “You went as some cattle farmer from Montana with that ridiculous cowboy hat and a bolo tie.”
“You wore a tailored suit, wireframe glasses and slicked back hair.” Len’s lips quirked at the memory. “And we almost missed our cue because we kept flirting at the bar instead of being in our positions.”
Mick chuckled. “Yeah.”
“It’s like that. Only we’re not doing it for a job, just acting like two strangers that decide to hook up.” He traced a finger down the zipper of the coveralls, stopping just below Mick’s sternum. “It’s just a game, Mick. Just shaking things up a bit.”
Mick stayed silent for a moment. “Just a game?”
“Yeah. Don’t want anyone the way I want you.”
He lifted his hand, sliding it around Len’s, fingers moving against Len’s palm. “...okay.”
“Okay?”
Mick shrugged, still not really looking at Len. “We can try again.”
“Are you sure? I told you I’d stop asking if you decided you didn’t like it.”
Mick finally looked at him, expression of somewhat wry humor. “The condition was I’d have to put effort into it. Which I didn’t really do, so.”
Len’s lips split into an eager grin. “Alright then. We’ll try again in a few days.” He stepped in close, lifting his hands to cup Mick’s face. “If it starts to mess with your head, just tell me and we’ll stop, okay?”
He looked both relieved and ashamed at being relieved about it. “Okay.”
So Len kissed him softly and pulled Mick away from the kitchen. “C’mon, let’s see if there's anything worthwhile on tv.”
Dressed Up
Mick didn’t generally like clubs. Too much noise, too many people and in the right circumstances he could easily feel dangerously claustrophobic. But for the sake of their playdates- as Mick came to call them -and their first in a public space, he figured he could deal with a little discomfort. Especially when Len promised him a surprise with that unfairly sexy smirk that always gave Mick the urge to fall to his knees.
He’d taken over one of the tables by the wall, further away from the dancing but unfortunately close to a speaker. He checked his watch, then his beeper. Normally the beepers were only for jobs but Len broke them out in case they ended up not being able to find each other in the crowd. Mick had scoffed at the precaution then but now that it was nearing half an hour without seeing Len he was starting to consider using it.
The beeper lit up and vibrated in his hand. Mick didn’t recognize the number but there was only one person that it could be. He went to the closest emergency exit where a bouncer was leaning against the wall and got directions to the pay phones in the back.
It was blessedly quiet back there, relatively speaking, the music faded but still audible, walls thrumming with the bass. As Mick turned into the corridor he saw someone duck out of view around the corner. He’d only caught a glimpse but that was all he needed to recognize Len. Huffing a breath, Mick followed after, passing by the phones and one person chatting drunkenly into one.
At the end of the corridor was a door that, judging from what he could see in the low light filtering through the open doorway, was a supply closet. Mick snorted, stepping in, using his foot to maneuver a plastic dustpan to keep the door from closing completely in case it automatically locked. “Decided to have a clandestine meeting in the janitor’s closet instead?” Mick asked sarcastically, fumbling along the wall until his fingers flicked the light switch on. Mick’s breath caught in his chest.
Len was wearing a skirt.
It was far from the first time Mick had seen him in one, just like it wasn’t the first time he’d seen Len in make-up though that was much rarer. But while the other skirts were plain and unassuming, this was shiny. Decorative. Short enough to emphasize the length of Len’s legs. The tights he wore were dark with some subtle pattern to them and he’d traded in his heavy boots for sleek ones that laced all the way up his calves. He wore a tight tank top with a sheer shirt over it which didn’t hide Len’s scars but the glitter on his shoulders and chest certainly distracted from them. There was a choker, a dangling earring and the make-up emphasized Len’s already gorgeous features and Mick had to wonder if someone manage to slip something in his drink because this was a goddamn vision in front of him. A fantasy Mick hadn’t realized he was dreaming about.
Len, uncharacteristically nervous, shifted a bit and Mick swallowed hard at the way the skirt moved over his thighs. “I, uh, think I was a little ambitious for a first outing.”
“Yeah?” Mick asked, barely hearing Len’s words.
“Yeah. I don’t… really want anyone to see me like this.”
Mick managed to come back to himself. “Didn’t you come in the front?”
Len snorted. “Of course not. I snuck around the side.” Trust Len to find a way to get out of paying for something.
“So you wanna leave?” That was fine by Mick. The drinks were overpriced and he did not want an audience for when he finally got Len within arm’s reach.
“Yeah. I know this was my idea and all-”
“It’s fine.”
Mick’s quick response made Len pause, seeming to finally notice the way Mick couldn’t stop looking at him. He shifted and Mick’s eyes were drawn back to the skirt again, lips parting softly. Len smirked, his confidence coming back and that transformation was enough to make Mick’s dick twitch.
“You know, if I didn’t know any better,” Len drawled lightly, “I’d think you liked this outfit.”
Mick rumbled in agreement.
Len held out his hand. “Jacket, Mick.” Something suspiciously close to a whine came out of Mick and Len laughed at it even as Mick obediently passed the jacket over. “Don’t worry,” he said, pulling the item on and zipping it up. It was long enough to fall to Len’s hips, leaving just enough skirt that Mick’s hands twitched, wanting to feel it. “You’re being such a good sport about it, I think you deserve a reward.” He walked up close, a hypnotizing sway to his hips. “How would you like to get down on your knees for me, bury your head under my skirt and wrap those pretty lips around my cock?”
Mick moaned.
“Which would you prefer? Me bending you over so you can feel my skirt flutter over your ass as I pound you or do you want me bouncing on your dick, only getting the barest glimpse of my cock under my skirt?”
“Fuck, Lenny.” Mick made an aborted move with his hands. If he touched Len now they’d never get out of this closet.
Len planted a hand in the middle of Mick’s chest, pushing him backward. “Take me home, Mick. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
Bad Timing
There had always been one fantasy that stayed with Len ever since he was a little boy. It hadn’t been a sexual one back then, of course, and even now it didn’t always have to be. He just wanted someone to take care of him. To spoil him and dote on him, treat him like he was something precious. It was the escapist fantasy of a trapped, frightened child wishing someone would take him and Lisa away from their father, who would protect them, give them anything they wanted and never let them feel afraid of anything. Their grandfather had tried, but he had enough problems of his own that Len always felt worse for it.
As he grew up part of Len began to resent that fantasy. No one was going to save him and after their grandfather died, no one other than Lisa cared about Len. And as he got more cynical, Len knew that anyone that wanted to treat him like that would just be looking to control him, wring whatever they wanted from him as payment for his debts.
That resentment would wax and wane but never truly went away even after Len accepted that Mick didn’t want anything from him. At least not anything Len wasn’t already doing for him. They were partners. Equals. They still occasionally struggled to balance each other out but it worked out for them. In time even that resentful part grudgingly agreed that Mick wouldn’t hold the fantasy of being a kept man over Len’s head but he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. With his reputation and skill and confidence growing day by day, his pride simply wouldn’t allow it.
It was part of the beauty of role play, the ability to assume another identity with it’s own needs- and lack of Len’s hang ups -for a short amount of time. He hadn’t brought up role playing to Mick specifically in order to fulfill his Pretty Woman fantasies but it was still something Len had slowly built towards over the years. Even now it was a rare scenario for them to do, one Len only brought up when his emotions were so strung out his ego swung from fierce independence to demanding to be pampered.
This time around they had broken into some ridiculously fancy home in the Ozarks, a kind of get-away ‘cabin’ for the owner of a statewide grocery chain. It had been easy enough for Len to charm the wife’s schedule- a state elected official -from a staff member and knew she was taking the family for a camping trip in Arizona for some sort of astronomy event. Which gave Len and Mick an entire weekend to indulge in Len’s favorite role play.
He prepped for it by disabling the security, cameras and motion sensor lights earlier that day and had gotten a spare key made to help sell the authenticity of it. Plus some cash and liquid assets that were just lying around, using Len’s veteran thieving definition of the term. They led into it- Mick playing the cheating husband and Len his ‘mistress’ -by going to some fancy gala followed by dinner at a high-end restaurant, with Mick plying Len with all sorts of fancy gifts throughout. They drove to their chosen home in the most absurd car in the husband’s vehicle collection- Mick loved the butterfly doors, Len couldn’t help mentally listing all the shady collectors they could sell it to -with Mick’s hand resting on Len’s crotch the entire way. Occasionally he’d squeeze or rub but it was just so carelessly proprietary that Len couldn’t help arching into it, biting back moans for more.
The best thing about this fantasy, and playing it out with Mick specifically, was that Mick always seemed to know just how ‘owned’ Len wanted to feel. And when the role play was over, that sense of ownership didn’t bleed into their partnership.
Len was on the verge of clawing into the seat by the time they finally pulled up the driveway- prevented only by the knowledge it would affect resale value. Len was too wired to wait for Mick to play the gentleman and get his door. Mick must have been feeling the same because he tossed the spare key to Len so that while Len was unlocking the front, Mick’s hands could wander freely over his hips and ass. Len was glad for his prep work because he would have been extremely distracted to pick the lock and disable the security otherwise.
When the door swung open, Mick spun Len around and, in a move that always left Len gasping with a rush of arousal, lifted him until Len wrapped his legs around Mick’s waist. “Like being a fucking tease, don’t you?” Mick growled, pressing his face against Len’s neck as he moved them into the house. “It’s like you were daring me to strip you down and take you in front of everyone all night. Was that what you wanted?”
Len just moaned, hands everywhere, trying to touch every part of Mick within reach at once.
“Gonna lay you out on the biggest damn bed in the place,” Mick growled, shutting the door behind him with a heel. “Won’t be wearing nothing all weekend but my wife’s most expensive jewelry. Maybe a fur coat while I suck champagne off your body.” Len shuddered, hands tugging at smooth material of Mick’s sports coat. “Gonna take such good care of you, baby, don’t gotta lift a finger for nothing. I’ll feed you anything you want, I’ll carry you to the tub, rub you down with oils. And I’m gonna have you anytime and any way I like. Every time my cock so much as twitches when I look at you, I’m gonna sink right in that tight ass or sweet mouth and use you till I cum all over you.”
“Yes,” Len whispered, breathless against the side of Mick’s head, rutting helplessly against Mick’s stomach as he was carried in. It was only about 10% an act. “Please,” he dropped kisses along Mick’s face and head, “please please please-”
“Begging already?” Mick’s hands flexed and Len rocked into them. “Wanna lick you open,” Len’s trousers were too smooth for Mick to get the grip to pull his ass cheeks apart but his intentions were still obvious and it made Len whine, “until you’re shuddering and sobbing for me to fuck you. Just a question of where. The couch? Kitchen counter? Maybe outside, see if I can make you scream loud enough you wake the neighbors.”
Len wanted to say anywhere Mick fancied- while cursing himself for not thinking to include the jacuzzi in prep -but something that had been on the edge of his awareness finally broke through the lust. He pushed away from Mick who, feeling Len tensing in his arms, obediently lowered him to the ground. “What is it?” Mick asked quietly.
“I didn’t leave the lights on when I left.”
They both went on the alert though neither went for their guns just yet. They didn’t normally carry weapons while on playdates, unless the roles they were taking had a reason to have them, but this was also technically a job as well and Len didn’t like doing those unarmed. Chalk another one to paranoia, he mused to himself while straining to get any sense of where another person could be lurking.
The two of them slid over to the nearest wall, Mick keeping an eye on the entryways opposite them, Len on the ones they approached. The second doorway revealed the ‘guests’. Len pulled back from the corner and mimed to Mick that there was a man and a woman in hushed discussion, the man holding a small lamp as a makeshift weapon. Mick nodded, not yet tensing up for a charge, waiting for Len to decide how they should handle this.
Unfortunately Len recognized the two, the man being one of the homeowners. Len and Mick could, of course, just shoot the place up, strip it of its valuables and head out with no one the wiser but Len had really been looking forward to a chill night of being pampered. The thought of working was almost enough to make him signal Mick to just turn around and leave. If the man hadn’t gathered up enough bravado to start shuffling- noisily -toward the hall, Len might have actually done that. Instead he signaled at Mick to hold and he crossed his arms, as if he was bored waiting for the man to confront them.
He jumped the corner with a “Ha!” and startled to find people there though Len was far enough out of lamp-swinging range he didn’t even try. “Who the hell are you?”
“What I want to know,” Len drawled irritably, “is why are you here?”
“This is my house!”
“And you should be in Arizona with the rest of the people that live in this house.” Len’s eyes flickered to the woman as she stepped out behind the man. “Instead you’re here with a call girl.” He held out a placating hand to the woman. “No offense, Rosanna.”
The woman- Rosanna -just chuckled and waved it off. “That’s literally my job, can’t really get offended by that.”
The man looked at her in shock. “You know these people?”
“Yeah. They got me away from my shitty pimp and helped me get a decent job.”
“How’ve they been treating you, by the way?” Mick asked. “Didn’t know you picked up clientele all the way out here.”
“Well, you know. If they can pay, why not. Job’s been great. I get medical and dental insurance,” she told her client conversationally while he was looking at them all like they were crazy. “I get final say in my clients and, for the first time ever, I get vacation days. It is the best.”
“Good to hear it,” Len said with a faint smile.
The man, however, didn’t share in the satisfaction, face red and livid. “Did you bring these two into my home?”
“What? What a stupid thing to think- why would I bring some guys to rob the place when I was going to be here with you?” Rosanna turned to the two. “You are robbing the place, right?”
“Yeah.”
“After fucking on every surface here.”
“Possibly multiple times.”
“What is going on?” The man hollered, obviously disliking how the conversation was out of his control.
“What’s going on,” Mick groused, “is you ruined our date.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Rosanna clapped her hands, laughing. “I knew those rumors were true! Angelique is going to be so disappointed!”
“It’s a pretty open relationship and we certainly don’t mind a third every now and again.” Len’s tone was mostly playful but it was also the truth.
“I’ll pass that along.”
“Excuse me!” The man slammed the lamp against the wall, not caring that one of the fancy arms bent, a couple drooping crystals falling off. “Who are you, what are you doing here, and how do you,” he thrust the lamp at Rosanna, “know them? Do you fuck them, too?”
Rosanna drew back, stepping away from the man, one hand on her hip, the other poised to go from gesticulation to eye-raking in a split second. “Oh, you absolutely are not trying to shame me for having sex when you specifically hired me to fuck you and behind your wife’s back, at that.”
“‘Sides, if I spent as much as she’s worth, she’d better be experienced enough to give me the best night of my life,” Mick added. Len gave him a droll look. “Obviously not counting nights with you.”
“Charming,” Len drawled, but he was mildly amused by the addition.
“That doesn’t mean I need to know about it!” He protested, voice getting shriller the more evident it became no one actually cared about what he had to say.
She rolled her eyes to the heavens. “This is why I don’t fuck men outside of work.”
“Neither would I,” Len said.
“I’m calling the police!”
Without having to look at each other, both Len and Mick pulled out their guns in a smooth motion and the man froze. Having spent years working the worst parts of Central’s red light districts, Rosanna wasn’t the least bit fazed. “That would be a supremely idiotic move on your part,” Led said conversationally, “as you would have to explain to the police why you’re here with a call girl.”
He hesitated. “I… I could just say she’s with you two.”
“And when the police look up her information and find her place of employment which would have a record of your patronage?”
“Well, she could be helping you guys rob me.”
“So you’re gonna tell the cops you hired an escort, who attempted to rob you.” Mick said, giving the man a bored look. “What’d you tell your wife why you didn’t go out with the family again?”
“And do you really think someone wouldn’t be leaking a juicy story like this to the press?” Len asked. “Considering, if we don’t decide to just shoot you before you even make the call, we’d be long gone before the cops even got here, word of your infidelity getting out will be a lot more damaging to you and your wife than it could ever be to us.”
As the man floundered, jaw moving uselessly, Len weighed his choices. Killing the man was a possibility but he didn’t really want to deal with the investigation that would follow suit, especially since Rosanna was on record for being in his company. Tying him up and throwing him in a spare room while Len and Mick went about their original playdate idea was tempting but it wouldn’t be the same. Len would have the man’s presence constantly in the back of his mind. While the haul that Len got earlier in the day wasn’t terrible, it barely justified the travel. But then the Ozarks had a couple other disgustingly rich people he’d been eying before settling on this place. If they picked their targets carefully, they could do a b&e spree and be halfway back to Central before anyone realized what happened.
Len lifted his gun to point at the ceiling. “Mick, tie him up.”
Mick made a disappointed noise but holstered his weapon. The man, startled, made a feeble swing toward Mick who just caught his wrist in one hand and grabbed him by the throat with the other. He proceeded to bind the man with the cord from the lamp, hands behind his back.
“What- stop, you can’t- what are you doing?” Mick wrapped his arms around the man, lifting him off his feet and taking him to a plush, carpeted area. He pulled off the man’s trousers and bound his feet together with them.
“Hope you don’t gotta pee,” Mick said conversationally before giving him a patronizing slap on the cheek.
Len holstered his own gun. “We’re off, I suppose.” The man’s protests rose and Len said, “We’ll have the cops come check up on you in the morning. If we remember to call them.” With a parting smirk, and a wave from Mick, they turned back toward the door. Rosanna, going over to pick up the purse she left on a side table, followed after.
“You can’t just leave!”
“Uh, yes I can.” Rosanna barely looked over her shoulder at her bound client. “One of the clauses in your contract says I’m allowed to walk away at any point if you’ve done anything I find objectionable. And I very much object to being slut shamed and you wanting to frame me for robbery. Fine print, by the way, also states that while you’re free to complain, if my boss believes you’re in the wrong, you do not get a refund.”
“Goddamn,” Mick said in admiration. “That job is amazing.”
“I know, right?”
They took the car still parked outside as a consolation prize, Rosanna getting into the backseat. While Len doubted the man wouldn’t be dumb enough to report the car stolen tonight- if he even got himself free -he didn’t want to take the chance of hanging onto it for too long. Which meant instead of selling it to a collector, he’d have to see if any of his contacts knew of a chop shop in the area and settle for that.
“Anywhere you want us to drop you off?” Len asked Rosanna as he scrolled through his locked and coded phone list.
“A decent hotel is fine. I’ll call work in the morning and they’ll reimburse me for the room and getting back.”
“Here.” Len passed a gem studded watch that Mick had ‘gifted’ to him earlier that night- which Len had stolen from the house earlier than that -to Rosanna. “For ruining your job.”
“It’s alright,” she said, accepting the gift anyway. “He’s tediously boring and sloppy, anyway. His wife is way better with her hands.”
Mick nearly drove them off the road laughing so hard.
Interloper
The bartender, in full view of Mick, filled up a glass with a rather fine brand of bourbon and placed it down in front of him. His second free drink of the night. He took it without looking around, assuming it was from Len and they’d be kicking this playdate into gear any moment now.
His outfit for the night was a bit more leather daddy than Mick was into, leather pants tight enough to make Bowie jealous, belt with a heavy buckle sitting low on his hips, boots that nearly went up to his knees, a biker jacket done up just enough for people to notice he wasn’t wearing anything under it and a heavy chain to help direct people to that fact. Honestly it wasn’t exactly comfortable and Mick could feel sweat gathering in annoying places but he wouldn’t deny that he liked the looks it was getting him.
It did a good job of mentally preparing him for Len’s chosen scenario of the big, dominating guy getting his tables turned by some sweet-faced mousey beauty that would tie him up and take him on the ride of his life. Mick’s pants were not at all hiding how that anticipation was turning him on.
“It’s a crime for someone like you to be sitting alone.”
The voice was a tip off, some east coast accent rather than one straight out of Central’s slums, but it still surprised Mick to turn and find someone other than Len taking the seat next to him. He was young, too old to be twink but still heavily playing into his youth and slender build. It was very faint but Mick could detect traces of make-up on the other man to help sell the illusion. Between the nice clothing, well manicured hands and carefully styled hair, he had plenty of disposable income or at least the willingness to make sacrifices for those things.
He leaned in close to Mick, elbow on the bar so he was bracketing Mick on one side. “How are your drinks?”
So that’s where they came from. Mick hid his disappointment as he examined what was left in his glass. “Not bad.”
“Thought you looked like the bourbon kind.”
Really Mick could drink just about anything no matter how bad it was. He definitely wouldn’t be passing up free drinks- ones that he knew were clean, anyway.
“Waiting for someone?”
Mick shrugged. “Someone interesting.”
“What do you consider interesting?”
Mick gulped the rest of his drink, resisting the urge to look around. While guys didn’t normally hit on him even inside gay bars, it happened often enough it no longer surprised Mick and it wasn’t like he and Len were exclusive, sexually speaking. But he never had anyone come up to him during a playdate before and he didn’t know if he should be turning the guy down or just playing along.
“I guess,” Mick said slowly, “if I think he can keep up with me.”
The young man’s eyes lit up, mouth curling up in a way that was distracting. “And how do you figure if he can?” He ran a hand along the seams of Mick’s jacket, up to where it parted and revealed his bare chest. “Match you drink for drink?” His finger traced over Mick’s skin, dragging the edge of his fingernail and raising goosebumps in his wake. “Someone that will do any little thing you say?” His hand slipped under the jacket, flicking at the hard nub of Mick’s nipple. “Maybe take him somewhere for a test run?” He licked his lips, eyes dropping to the prominent bulge of Mick’s crotch.
Mick’s heart picked up, trying to figure out how to bow out of this before he got in too deep.
“Get your skanky hands off my partner.”
He couldn’t help letting out a breath of relief, turning to find Len glaring icily at the interloper. He was hardly intimidating in full hipster gear but Mick relaxed just having him there.
The young man pulled back, glowering right back. “Who the fuck are you?”
Len took the opportunity to force his way between the two. “The guy giving you the chance to walk away on your own two feet.”
He looked over Len’s shoulder at Mick and Mick just held his hands up. “He’s the boss in this relationship. He says no, then that’s all there is to it.”
The young man looked absolutely affronted. “Wait, are you seriously some asshole’s bitch?”
Len was too close to throw a decent punch but had plenty of room to get a good crack in with his elbow. The other man fell against the bar, blood streaming from his nose and Mick laughed in delight. “I don’t tolerate disrespect to my partner. Especially when you were desperate to gag on his cock in front of the whole damn bar not a minute ago.”
With his expression twisted into fury, the young man pulled out a switchblade and in an instant, Len had him by the wrist, smashing it down onto the bar hard enough he dropped the knife. With his other hand, Len grabbed the back of the man’s neck, slamming him into the bar as well. The poor idiot gasped from the pain of the impact as well as the strain the angle was putting on his shoulder.
Len leaned down and hissed into his ear, “I see you near my partner again, you’ll spend the rest of your life carrying your dick in a handbag.” He pulled back abruptly and the man slide to the ground. “Get out of my sight.”
He scurried out of the bar and Len turned to Mick. His eyes were narrow and jaw hard but Mick knew him well enough to tell when Len wasn’t angry at him. Mick could feel a big doofy grinned spreading over his face, hopelessly aroused by his partner. “Fuck, I love when you’re pissed.”
Len gave Mick’s clothing a pointed look. “Who picked out your outfit?”
“Lisa.”
Len’s lips twisted like he was deciding if he should thank her or yell at her for it. “Tell her not to do such a good job next time.”
Mick laughed loudly, hooking his foot behind Len’s knee, drawing his partner in between his thighs. “I dunno. Always love seeing you get hot over me. Staking your claim.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I always keep my cool.”
“Right. Damn near snapping someone’s arm out their socket is ‘keeping cool’.” Mick tilted his head, nosing along the side of Len’s neck. “Bet I could heat you up some more.”
“We’ll see.” Len’s voice wasn’t nearly as calm as his words, breathy and rough and Mick growled in response. Len grabbed Mick by the jacket and pulled him off his stool. “You going to backup your claim?”
Mick grinned, wide and victorious, ignoring the shocked and bewildered stares of those around them. “Always do.”
Sure, the night didn’t go as planned but Mick still got drilled so thoroughly he couldn’t sit right for a few days. That was a win in his book.
Change Up
The bartender held out Mick’s regular order. “Waiting for someone?”
“We’ll see who comes around,” he replied, accepting the glass as it was passed to him. The bartender stepped back with a nod. It had become a kind of pass phrase through the years at their regular places, alerting those who knew to run interference on anyone that might infringe on Mick and Len’s playdate.
Technically it wasn’t a playdate this time around as Len was in jail. Or rather was getting out of jail. The two of them had split up again about a week before he got picked up on, as Mick found after asking around, a bullshit charge. The police trying to put the fear of the law in him by tossing him in the clink for a couple months, never mind the fact that it just gave Len a chance to network with the crooks there. Fifteen, twenty years ago being on his own in prison might have made Len nervous but he built too strong a reputation by now. No one was willing to cause him trouble or allow others to cause him trouble, not when knowing Len would systematically ruin their lives in return. Or face Mick’s fiery vengeance as, outs or not, no one fucked with his partner.
So now here was Mick, sitting in a bar the two frequented on the day Len was supposed to be released, pretending he wasn’t waiting to see his partner again.
“This seat taken?”
Mick looked over his shoulder, heart aching at the sight of Len. He was looking a little pale, a little ragged, the bags under his eyes dark and his cheeks more gaunt than they should have been. Mick’s blood boiled and he gave a short shake of his head; opening his mouth would risk him breaking character at that moment. Just because other criminals knew better than to fuck with Len, that didn’t mean the guards would extend him the same consideration. Iron Heights, after all, was one of the more notoriously draconian prisons in the country for a reason.
Len sat on the stool next to Mick, gesturing for a drink that appeared in short order. Mick couldn’t look away, committing every bruise, every vaguely discolored patch of skin to memory. Len would never tell him who was behind them but Mick had plenty of friends on the inside. They’d give him at least a few names.
“See something you like?” Len asked, giving Mick a flirty, sideways look. It was his default character, the one they used when neither wanted a complicated role play. It wasn’t all that different from seductive, playful Len asides from the fact that it was in public. It was pretty guaranteed to get Mick going in short order. This time around, however, it wasn’t quite what he wanted.
On a whim, Mick decided to do something they rarely did on either a playdate or a job: he switched up the play. “I knew you were doing this to yourself.” He cupped Len’s face, familiar and gentle, feeling the rough stubble prickling his palm. “Don’t know why I thought your workaholic tendencies would stop when I left. You look terrible.”
Len huffed in quiet laughter, leaning into the touch slightly. Mick quietly thrilled at the fact Len just went with it. “This wasn’t any more your fault than the other times were. I did this to myself.” He turned his head, brushing his lips against Mick’s hand briefly before leaning away. “I get why you left. It’s not your responsibility to take care of me all the time.”
That… hit a little closer to home than Mick was prepared for. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Pretty sure you’ve done your share of taking care of me, too.”
“Not nearly enough. I’d give you the world, you know. It’s the least you deserve.”
“Does the world include you?”
Len’s eyes widened in surprise and while there was always some tiny kernel of honesty in all their playdates, Mick wasn’t certain how much was in this one. Not for Len or himself. “You- it- I can’t keep dragging you down.”
“You don’t.” Mick rested his arm on the bar, hand blatantly in Len’s space. After a moment’s hesitation, Len placed his hand over top of Mick’s. “Honestly, I do better when I’m keeping an eye on you. Have something to focus on, something to keep me busy.” That wasn’t lighting fires. “So,” he wove their fingers together, “I’m thinking about taking you home. Make sure you’re fed, tame that mop of yours a bit,” Len chuckled, touching his hair that had gotten long enough for the curls to edge into unkempt angles. “Then, when I know you’re rested, I’ll use you like a toy.”
Len spluttered and laughed, looking young in a way Mick hadn’t seen in too damn long. “So that’s the truth, huh? You’re willing to take care of me so long as I repay you in sex.”
“Sounds like a good deal to me.”
Still grinning, eyes still shining, Len pulled Mick from his stool. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
Title: The Thrill of First Love
Fandom: DC TV
Rating: edging into R
Word Count: 7546
In Responds to: ColdWave Week 2018: Date Night
Characters: Len, Mick, random ocs
Warnings: referenced child abuse, some slut shaming, mild violence
Summary: Four role plays that didn't end up as intended and one that worked out anyway.
The First Time
Len checked himself in the mirror for the third or fourth time that hour. He was nervous, excited and had no clue what clothing was apropos to wear given the situation.
The situation being a date. With Mick.
Though the word ‘date’ was a little bit strong given it was more of a ‘meet up to have sex’ deal. Not that either actual dates or booty calls with Mick was unusual anymore it was just that this particular time was unique as they had actually talked this out first. This would be the first time they’d be role playing.
Mick had been surprisingly against it at first. Adamantly so. Len hadn’t considered Mick would turn down anything that got him sex- specifically sex with Len -especially for something as tame as this but Len had to wear him down over the course of a month for it. The scene wasn’t anything complicated or ostentatious, just the standard ‘plumber come to lay some pipe’ type deal. They wouldn’t be leaving the apartment, it would take minimal acting and no one would see them.
And, the condition that eventually won Mick over, if he didn’t like it after the first time, Len wouldn’t ask him again. But he’d have to make an actual effort of it. Len was determined to make this work as he had some very specific and elaborate fantasies he was hoping to sell Mick on after he’d gotten comfortable with the act. Which was why Len kept overthinking his wardrobe. All the research he’d done watching shitty porn role plays had been fairly exclusively women in sheer robes and teddies, fawning against the door as they let the handyman in.
It didn’t really give Len a lot of options or ideas. In the end he decided on one of Mick’s button-up flannels, because Mick loved Len wearing his clothes, with the barest few buttons done up so it threatened to slide off one shoulder. Under that was a pair of old jeans whose various holes- which caused Len to stop wearing them originally -had been carefully worked wider to give off tantalizing glimpses of pale skin. In addition to that was a couple polished rings and a pendant necklace that hung to rest on his breastbone because Mick liked shiny things.
There was a knock on the door and Len sucked in a breath. He checked himself in the mirror one last time, ran a hand through his hair, too short to do anything with, and went to the door. He checked the peephole, just in case, and after seeing Mick there, opened the door. He leaned against it, angling his shoulders so his shirt fell open just a little bit more. “Yes?”
Mick stood there looking more than a little uncomfortable. He had a toolbox in one hand and a toolbelt low on his hips. The coveralls he wore were slightly too small on Mick which made them very tight around the thighs and ass and impossible to zip all the way due to Mick’s broad shoulders. Which meant showing off a lot of chest under a tight, all but transparent white tank top. Len had picked out his clothes specifically and he licked his lips because Mick looked better than he imagined. “You called a plumber?” Mick asked, voice gruff and a little stiff.
“Of course,” Len stepped back, sultry and low, sweeping a hand in invitation, “come in.”
Mick just shouldered his way in with a grunt, barely giving Len a second glance which caused Len to frown. Guess he was playing hard to get. That was fine. Len squared his shoulders and followed, refusing to be deterred. Mick was already in the kitchen, rattling around the cabinet under the sink. Plumbing was one of the few maintenance areas Mick didn’t actually know anything about. Len leaned up next to him, almost close enough to brush up against Mick’s shoulder with his leg. Close enough that Mick could lean over and lick at an exposed strip of thigh through a ragged hole if he wanted to.
Len frowned harder when Mick didn’t take a peek. “So,” Len said conversationally, “do you have any ideas what the problem might be?”
“Probably a clog or something.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to take care of me.” When Mick just grunted, Len bit back a snap to at least give him something to work with. “You certainly seem capable with those big, strong hands of yours.”
“I guess.”
Len dropped his head back and seethed between his teeth. “Mick.”
The clattering stopped. “What?”
“You said you’d at least try.”
Mick pulled back, glaring up at Len. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“Act interested, maybe?”
“I’d be more interested if I didn’t have to do this stupid act!” Mick pushed himself off the floor, stomping to the opposite side of the kitchen, turning to glare at Len with his arms crossed. “It’s just sex, why d'you wanna complicate it?”
Despite himself, Len felt himself getting angry on top of frustrated. “What, you want to go back to fumbled handjobs that we’d pretend never happened? Because you fucking me is more complicated than that. This,” he waved a hand between the two of them, “being open about sex and what we wanted complicated shit. But suddenly me wanting to try something new is crossing a line.”
“I just don’t get it!” Mick exploded. “Why do you need,” he waved at the toolbelt and coveralls, “all this? What I do isn’t good enough anymore?”
Something in Mick’s voice, in his choice of words made Len stop short and from the way Mick clenched his jaw, like he’d said too much, made it obvious there was something in there that needed unpacking. “Mick,” he said quietly and Mick looked away, knowing a conversation he didn’t want to have was coming, “what’s the real problem you’re having with this?”
Mick pressed his lips into a thin line, wanting and not wanting to say at the same time. Len waited, patiently, eyes intent on his partner. Eventually Mick ducked his head lower, shoulders hunched defensively. His voice was so low Len leaned in slightly to hear. “Isn’t this enough for you?”
Len drew back, surprised and a little stung. “Wait, you think I’ve been pushing for this role playing stuff because I’m not satisfied with you?” Mick hunched his shoulders further. “Look at me- Mick, look at me.” When Mick did so, Len held his eyes and said very seriously, “That is absolute crap. The only reason I’m willing to do this at all is because you’re the only one I’d be comfortable doing this with.”
“But you want to pretend I’m someone else,” he said quietly.
Len had to shut his eyes and take a deep breath. He’d been trying, for years, to help Mick through his issues, just as Mick had been trying to deal with Len’s. But that right there smacked of the father Mick could never do right by, the grandmother convinced that the devil lived inside Mick, the mother that thought her youngest son was some sort of punishment and if they weren’t already dead, Len would be sorely tempted to kill them for the damage they’d done to his partner.
“It’s not like that,” he said when he was certain he had his voice under control. “It’s like… Remember eight months ago, when we hit that auction?”
The memory brought a gleam of amusement to Mick’s eyes. “You went as some cattle farmer from Montana with that ridiculous cowboy hat and a bolo tie.”
“You wore a tailored suit, wireframe glasses and slicked back hair.” Len’s lips quirked at the memory. “And we almost missed our cue because we kept flirting at the bar instead of being in our positions.”
Mick chuckled. “Yeah.”
“It’s like that. Only we’re not doing it for a job, just acting like two strangers that decide to hook up.” He traced a finger down the zipper of the coveralls, stopping just below Mick’s sternum. “It’s just a game, Mick. Just shaking things up a bit.”
Mick stayed silent for a moment. “Just a game?”
“Yeah. Don’t want anyone the way I want you.”
He lifted his hand, sliding it around Len’s, fingers moving against Len’s palm. “...okay.”
“Okay?”
Mick shrugged, still not really looking at Len. “We can try again.”
“Are you sure? I told you I’d stop asking if you decided you didn’t like it.”
Mick finally looked at him, expression of somewhat wry humor. “The condition was I’d have to put effort into it. Which I didn’t really do, so.”
Len’s lips split into an eager grin. “Alright then. We’ll try again in a few days.” He stepped in close, lifting his hands to cup Mick’s face. “If it starts to mess with your head, just tell me and we’ll stop, okay?”
He looked both relieved and ashamed at being relieved about it. “Okay.”
So Len kissed him softly and pulled Mick away from the kitchen. “C’mon, let’s see if there's anything worthwhile on tv.”
Dressed Up
Mick didn’t generally like clubs. Too much noise, too many people and in the right circumstances he could easily feel dangerously claustrophobic. But for the sake of their playdates- as Mick came to call them -and their first in a public space, he figured he could deal with a little discomfort. Especially when Len promised him a surprise with that unfairly sexy smirk that always gave Mick the urge to fall to his knees.
He’d taken over one of the tables by the wall, further away from the dancing but unfortunately close to a speaker. He checked his watch, then his beeper. Normally the beepers were only for jobs but Len broke them out in case they ended up not being able to find each other in the crowd. Mick had scoffed at the precaution then but now that it was nearing half an hour without seeing Len he was starting to consider using it.
The beeper lit up and vibrated in his hand. Mick didn’t recognize the number but there was only one person that it could be. He went to the closest emergency exit where a bouncer was leaning against the wall and got directions to the pay phones in the back.
It was blessedly quiet back there, relatively speaking, the music faded but still audible, walls thrumming with the bass. As Mick turned into the corridor he saw someone duck out of view around the corner. He’d only caught a glimpse but that was all he needed to recognize Len. Huffing a breath, Mick followed after, passing by the phones and one person chatting drunkenly into one.
At the end of the corridor was a door that, judging from what he could see in the low light filtering through the open doorway, was a supply closet. Mick snorted, stepping in, using his foot to maneuver a plastic dustpan to keep the door from closing completely in case it automatically locked. “Decided to have a clandestine meeting in the janitor’s closet instead?” Mick asked sarcastically, fumbling along the wall until his fingers flicked the light switch on. Mick’s breath caught in his chest.
Len was wearing a skirt.
It was far from the first time Mick had seen him in one, just like it wasn’t the first time he’d seen Len in make-up though that was much rarer. But while the other skirts were plain and unassuming, this was shiny. Decorative. Short enough to emphasize the length of Len’s legs. The tights he wore were dark with some subtle pattern to them and he’d traded in his heavy boots for sleek ones that laced all the way up his calves. He wore a tight tank top with a sheer shirt over it which didn’t hide Len’s scars but the glitter on his shoulders and chest certainly distracted from them. There was a choker, a dangling earring and the make-up emphasized Len’s already gorgeous features and Mick had to wonder if someone manage to slip something in his drink because this was a goddamn vision in front of him. A fantasy Mick hadn’t realized he was dreaming about.
Len, uncharacteristically nervous, shifted a bit and Mick swallowed hard at the way the skirt moved over his thighs. “I, uh, think I was a little ambitious for a first outing.”
“Yeah?” Mick asked, barely hearing Len’s words.
“Yeah. I don’t… really want anyone to see me like this.”
Mick managed to come back to himself. “Didn’t you come in the front?”
Len snorted. “Of course not. I snuck around the side.” Trust Len to find a way to get out of paying for something.
“So you wanna leave?” That was fine by Mick. The drinks were overpriced and he did not want an audience for when he finally got Len within arm’s reach.
“Yeah. I know this was my idea and all-”
“It’s fine.”
Mick’s quick response made Len pause, seeming to finally notice the way Mick couldn’t stop looking at him. He shifted and Mick’s eyes were drawn back to the skirt again, lips parting softly. Len smirked, his confidence coming back and that transformation was enough to make Mick’s dick twitch.
“You know, if I didn’t know any better,” Len drawled lightly, “I’d think you liked this outfit.”
Mick rumbled in agreement.
Len held out his hand. “Jacket, Mick.” Something suspiciously close to a whine came out of Mick and Len laughed at it even as Mick obediently passed the jacket over. “Don’t worry,” he said, pulling the item on and zipping it up. It was long enough to fall to Len’s hips, leaving just enough skirt that Mick’s hands twitched, wanting to feel it. “You’re being such a good sport about it, I think you deserve a reward.” He walked up close, a hypnotizing sway to his hips. “How would you like to get down on your knees for me, bury your head under my skirt and wrap those pretty lips around my cock?”
Mick moaned.
“Which would you prefer? Me bending you over so you can feel my skirt flutter over your ass as I pound you or do you want me bouncing on your dick, only getting the barest glimpse of my cock under my skirt?”
“Fuck, Lenny.” Mick made an aborted move with his hands. If he touched Len now they’d never get out of this closet.
Len planted a hand in the middle of Mick’s chest, pushing him backward. “Take me home, Mick. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
Bad Timing
There had always been one fantasy that stayed with Len ever since he was a little boy. It hadn’t been a sexual one back then, of course, and even now it didn’t always have to be. He just wanted someone to take care of him. To spoil him and dote on him, treat him like he was something precious. It was the escapist fantasy of a trapped, frightened child wishing someone would take him and Lisa away from their father, who would protect them, give them anything they wanted and never let them feel afraid of anything. Their grandfather had tried, but he had enough problems of his own that Len always felt worse for it.
As he grew up part of Len began to resent that fantasy. No one was going to save him and after their grandfather died, no one other than Lisa cared about Len. And as he got more cynical, Len knew that anyone that wanted to treat him like that would just be looking to control him, wring whatever they wanted from him as payment for his debts.
That resentment would wax and wane but never truly went away even after Len accepted that Mick didn’t want anything from him. At least not anything Len wasn’t already doing for him. They were partners. Equals. They still occasionally struggled to balance each other out but it worked out for them. In time even that resentful part grudgingly agreed that Mick wouldn’t hold the fantasy of being a kept man over Len’s head but he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. With his reputation and skill and confidence growing day by day, his pride simply wouldn’t allow it.
It was part of the beauty of role play, the ability to assume another identity with it’s own needs- and lack of Len’s hang ups -for a short amount of time. He hadn’t brought up role playing to Mick specifically in order to fulfill his Pretty Woman fantasies but it was still something Len had slowly built towards over the years. Even now it was a rare scenario for them to do, one Len only brought up when his emotions were so strung out his ego swung from fierce independence to demanding to be pampered.
This time around they had broken into some ridiculously fancy home in the Ozarks, a kind of get-away ‘cabin’ for the owner of a statewide grocery chain. It had been easy enough for Len to charm the wife’s schedule- a state elected official -from a staff member and knew she was taking the family for a camping trip in Arizona for some sort of astronomy event. Which gave Len and Mick an entire weekend to indulge in Len’s favorite role play.
He prepped for it by disabling the security, cameras and motion sensor lights earlier that day and had gotten a spare key made to help sell the authenticity of it. Plus some cash and liquid assets that were just lying around, using Len’s veteran thieving definition of the term. They led into it- Mick playing the cheating husband and Len his ‘mistress’ -by going to some fancy gala followed by dinner at a high-end restaurant, with Mick plying Len with all sorts of fancy gifts throughout. They drove to their chosen home in the most absurd car in the husband’s vehicle collection- Mick loved the butterfly doors, Len couldn’t help mentally listing all the shady collectors they could sell it to -with Mick’s hand resting on Len’s crotch the entire way. Occasionally he’d squeeze or rub but it was just so carelessly proprietary that Len couldn’t help arching into it, biting back moans for more.
The best thing about this fantasy, and playing it out with Mick specifically, was that Mick always seemed to know just how ‘owned’ Len wanted to feel. And when the role play was over, that sense of ownership didn’t bleed into their partnership.
Len was on the verge of clawing into the seat by the time they finally pulled up the driveway- prevented only by the knowledge it would affect resale value. Len was too wired to wait for Mick to play the gentleman and get his door. Mick must have been feeling the same because he tossed the spare key to Len so that while Len was unlocking the front, Mick’s hands could wander freely over his hips and ass. Len was glad for his prep work because he would have been extremely distracted to pick the lock and disable the security otherwise.
When the door swung open, Mick spun Len around and, in a move that always left Len gasping with a rush of arousal, lifted him until Len wrapped his legs around Mick’s waist. “Like being a fucking tease, don’t you?” Mick growled, pressing his face against Len’s neck as he moved them into the house. “It’s like you were daring me to strip you down and take you in front of everyone all night. Was that what you wanted?”
Len just moaned, hands everywhere, trying to touch every part of Mick within reach at once.
“Gonna lay you out on the biggest damn bed in the place,” Mick growled, shutting the door behind him with a heel. “Won’t be wearing nothing all weekend but my wife’s most expensive jewelry. Maybe a fur coat while I suck champagne off your body.” Len shuddered, hands tugging at smooth material of Mick’s sports coat. “Gonna take such good care of you, baby, don’t gotta lift a finger for nothing. I’ll feed you anything you want, I’ll carry you to the tub, rub you down with oils. And I’m gonna have you anytime and any way I like. Every time my cock so much as twitches when I look at you, I’m gonna sink right in that tight ass or sweet mouth and use you till I cum all over you.”
“Yes,” Len whispered, breathless against the side of Mick’s head, rutting helplessly against Mick’s stomach as he was carried in. It was only about 10% an act. “Please,” he dropped kisses along Mick’s face and head, “please please please-”
“Begging already?” Mick’s hands flexed and Len rocked into them. “Wanna lick you open,” Len’s trousers were too smooth for Mick to get the grip to pull his ass cheeks apart but his intentions were still obvious and it made Len whine, “until you’re shuddering and sobbing for me to fuck you. Just a question of where. The couch? Kitchen counter? Maybe outside, see if I can make you scream loud enough you wake the neighbors.”
Len wanted to say anywhere Mick fancied- while cursing himself for not thinking to include the jacuzzi in prep -but something that had been on the edge of his awareness finally broke through the lust. He pushed away from Mick who, feeling Len tensing in his arms, obediently lowered him to the ground. “What is it?” Mick asked quietly.
“I didn’t leave the lights on when I left.”
They both went on the alert though neither went for their guns just yet. They didn’t normally carry weapons while on playdates, unless the roles they were taking had a reason to have them, but this was also technically a job as well and Len didn’t like doing those unarmed. Chalk another one to paranoia, he mused to himself while straining to get any sense of where another person could be lurking.
The two of them slid over to the nearest wall, Mick keeping an eye on the entryways opposite them, Len on the ones they approached. The second doorway revealed the ‘guests’. Len pulled back from the corner and mimed to Mick that there was a man and a woman in hushed discussion, the man holding a small lamp as a makeshift weapon. Mick nodded, not yet tensing up for a charge, waiting for Len to decide how they should handle this.
Unfortunately Len recognized the two, the man being one of the homeowners. Len and Mick could, of course, just shoot the place up, strip it of its valuables and head out with no one the wiser but Len had really been looking forward to a chill night of being pampered. The thought of working was almost enough to make him signal Mick to just turn around and leave. If the man hadn’t gathered up enough bravado to start shuffling- noisily -toward the hall, Len might have actually done that. Instead he signaled at Mick to hold and he crossed his arms, as if he was bored waiting for the man to confront them.
He jumped the corner with a “Ha!” and startled to find people there though Len was far enough out of lamp-swinging range he didn’t even try. “Who the hell are you?”
“What I want to know,” Len drawled irritably, “is why are you here?”
“This is my house!”
“And you should be in Arizona with the rest of the people that live in this house.” Len’s eyes flickered to the woman as she stepped out behind the man. “Instead you’re here with a call girl.” He held out a placating hand to the woman. “No offense, Rosanna.”
The woman- Rosanna -just chuckled and waved it off. “That’s literally my job, can’t really get offended by that.”
The man looked at her in shock. “You know these people?”
“Yeah. They got me away from my shitty pimp and helped me get a decent job.”
“How’ve they been treating you, by the way?” Mick asked. “Didn’t know you picked up clientele all the way out here.”
“Well, you know. If they can pay, why not. Job’s been great. I get medical and dental insurance,” she told her client conversationally while he was looking at them all like they were crazy. “I get final say in my clients and, for the first time ever, I get vacation days. It is the best.”
“Good to hear it,” Len said with a faint smile.
The man, however, didn’t share in the satisfaction, face red and livid. “Did you bring these two into my home?”
“What? What a stupid thing to think- why would I bring some guys to rob the place when I was going to be here with you?” Rosanna turned to the two. “You are robbing the place, right?”
“Yeah.”
“After fucking on every surface here.”
“Possibly multiple times.”
“What is going on?” The man hollered, obviously disliking how the conversation was out of his control.
“What’s going on,” Mick groused, “is you ruined our date.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Rosanna clapped her hands, laughing. “I knew those rumors were true! Angelique is going to be so disappointed!”
“It’s a pretty open relationship and we certainly don’t mind a third every now and again.” Len’s tone was mostly playful but it was also the truth.
“I’ll pass that along.”
“Excuse me!” The man slammed the lamp against the wall, not caring that one of the fancy arms bent, a couple drooping crystals falling off. “Who are you, what are you doing here, and how do you,” he thrust the lamp at Rosanna, “know them? Do you fuck them, too?”
Rosanna drew back, stepping away from the man, one hand on her hip, the other poised to go from gesticulation to eye-raking in a split second. “Oh, you absolutely are not trying to shame me for having sex when you specifically hired me to fuck you and behind your wife’s back, at that.”
“‘Sides, if I spent as much as she’s worth, she’d better be experienced enough to give me the best night of my life,” Mick added. Len gave him a droll look. “Obviously not counting nights with you.”
“Charming,” Len drawled, but he was mildly amused by the addition.
“That doesn’t mean I need to know about it!” He protested, voice getting shriller the more evident it became no one actually cared about what he had to say.
She rolled her eyes to the heavens. “This is why I don’t fuck men outside of work.”
“Neither would I,” Len said.
“I’m calling the police!”
Without having to look at each other, both Len and Mick pulled out their guns in a smooth motion and the man froze. Having spent years working the worst parts of Central’s red light districts, Rosanna wasn’t the least bit fazed. “That would be a supremely idiotic move on your part,” Led said conversationally, “as you would have to explain to the police why you’re here with a call girl.”
He hesitated. “I… I could just say she’s with you two.”
“And when the police look up her information and find her place of employment which would have a record of your patronage?”
“Well, she could be helping you guys rob me.”
“So you’re gonna tell the cops you hired an escort, who attempted to rob you.” Mick said, giving the man a bored look. “What’d you tell your wife why you didn’t go out with the family again?”
“And do you really think someone wouldn’t be leaking a juicy story like this to the press?” Len asked. “Considering, if we don’t decide to just shoot you before you even make the call, we’d be long gone before the cops even got here, word of your infidelity getting out will be a lot more damaging to you and your wife than it could ever be to us.”
As the man floundered, jaw moving uselessly, Len weighed his choices. Killing the man was a possibility but he didn’t really want to deal with the investigation that would follow suit, especially since Rosanna was on record for being in his company. Tying him up and throwing him in a spare room while Len and Mick went about their original playdate idea was tempting but it wouldn’t be the same. Len would have the man’s presence constantly in the back of his mind. While the haul that Len got earlier in the day wasn’t terrible, it barely justified the travel. But then the Ozarks had a couple other disgustingly rich people he’d been eying before settling on this place. If they picked their targets carefully, they could do a b&e spree and be halfway back to Central before anyone realized what happened.
Len lifted his gun to point at the ceiling. “Mick, tie him up.”
Mick made a disappointed noise but holstered his weapon. The man, startled, made a feeble swing toward Mick who just caught his wrist in one hand and grabbed him by the throat with the other. He proceeded to bind the man with the cord from the lamp, hands behind his back.
“What- stop, you can’t- what are you doing?” Mick wrapped his arms around the man, lifting him off his feet and taking him to a plush, carpeted area. He pulled off the man’s trousers and bound his feet together with them.
“Hope you don’t gotta pee,” Mick said conversationally before giving him a patronizing slap on the cheek.
Len holstered his own gun. “We’re off, I suppose.” The man’s protests rose and Len said, “We’ll have the cops come check up on you in the morning. If we remember to call them.” With a parting smirk, and a wave from Mick, they turned back toward the door. Rosanna, going over to pick up the purse she left on a side table, followed after.
“You can’t just leave!”
“Uh, yes I can.” Rosanna barely looked over her shoulder at her bound client. “One of the clauses in your contract says I’m allowed to walk away at any point if you’ve done anything I find objectionable. And I very much object to being slut shamed and you wanting to frame me for robbery. Fine print, by the way, also states that while you’re free to complain, if my boss believes you’re in the wrong, you do not get a refund.”
“Goddamn,” Mick said in admiration. “That job is amazing.”
“I know, right?”
They took the car still parked outside as a consolation prize, Rosanna getting into the backseat. While Len doubted the man wouldn’t be dumb enough to report the car stolen tonight- if he even got himself free -he didn’t want to take the chance of hanging onto it for too long. Which meant instead of selling it to a collector, he’d have to see if any of his contacts knew of a chop shop in the area and settle for that.
“Anywhere you want us to drop you off?” Len asked Rosanna as he scrolled through his locked and coded phone list.
“A decent hotel is fine. I’ll call work in the morning and they’ll reimburse me for the room and getting back.”
“Here.” Len passed a gem studded watch that Mick had ‘gifted’ to him earlier that night- which Len had stolen from the house earlier than that -to Rosanna. “For ruining your job.”
“It’s alright,” she said, accepting the gift anyway. “He’s tediously boring and sloppy, anyway. His wife is way better with her hands.”
Mick nearly drove them off the road laughing so hard.
Interloper
The bartender, in full view of Mick, filled up a glass with a rather fine brand of bourbon and placed it down in front of him. His second free drink of the night. He took it without looking around, assuming it was from Len and they’d be kicking this playdate into gear any moment now.
His outfit for the night was a bit more leather daddy than Mick was into, leather pants tight enough to make Bowie jealous, belt with a heavy buckle sitting low on his hips, boots that nearly went up to his knees, a biker jacket done up just enough for people to notice he wasn’t wearing anything under it and a heavy chain to help direct people to that fact. Honestly it wasn’t exactly comfortable and Mick could feel sweat gathering in annoying places but he wouldn’t deny that he liked the looks it was getting him.
It did a good job of mentally preparing him for Len’s chosen scenario of the big, dominating guy getting his tables turned by some sweet-faced mousey beauty that would tie him up and take him on the ride of his life. Mick’s pants were not at all hiding how that anticipation was turning him on.
“It’s a crime for someone like you to be sitting alone.”
The voice was a tip off, some east coast accent rather than one straight out of Central’s slums, but it still surprised Mick to turn and find someone other than Len taking the seat next to him. He was young, too old to be twink but still heavily playing into his youth and slender build. It was very faint but Mick could detect traces of make-up on the other man to help sell the illusion. Between the nice clothing, well manicured hands and carefully styled hair, he had plenty of disposable income or at least the willingness to make sacrifices for those things.
He leaned in close to Mick, elbow on the bar so he was bracketing Mick on one side. “How are your drinks?”
So that’s where they came from. Mick hid his disappointment as he examined what was left in his glass. “Not bad.”
“Thought you looked like the bourbon kind.”
Really Mick could drink just about anything no matter how bad it was. He definitely wouldn’t be passing up free drinks- ones that he knew were clean, anyway.
“Waiting for someone?”
Mick shrugged. “Someone interesting.”
“What do you consider interesting?”
Mick gulped the rest of his drink, resisting the urge to look around. While guys didn’t normally hit on him even inside gay bars, it happened often enough it no longer surprised Mick and it wasn’t like he and Len were exclusive, sexually speaking. But he never had anyone come up to him during a playdate before and he didn’t know if he should be turning the guy down or just playing along.
“I guess,” Mick said slowly, “if I think he can keep up with me.”
The young man’s eyes lit up, mouth curling up in a way that was distracting. “And how do you figure if he can?” He ran a hand along the seams of Mick’s jacket, up to where it parted and revealed his bare chest. “Match you drink for drink?” His finger traced over Mick’s skin, dragging the edge of his fingernail and raising goosebumps in his wake. “Someone that will do any little thing you say?” His hand slipped under the jacket, flicking at the hard nub of Mick’s nipple. “Maybe take him somewhere for a test run?” He licked his lips, eyes dropping to the prominent bulge of Mick’s crotch.
Mick’s heart picked up, trying to figure out how to bow out of this before he got in too deep.
“Get your skanky hands off my partner.”
He couldn’t help letting out a breath of relief, turning to find Len glaring icily at the interloper. He was hardly intimidating in full hipster gear but Mick relaxed just having him there.
The young man pulled back, glowering right back. “Who the fuck are you?”
Len took the opportunity to force his way between the two. “The guy giving you the chance to walk away on your own two feet.”
He looked over Len’s shoulder at Mick and Mick just held his hands up. “He’s the boss in this relationship. He says no, then that’s all there is to it.”
The young man looked absolutely affronted. “Wait, are you seriously some asshole’s bitch?”
Len was too close to throw a decent punch but had plenty of room to get a good crack in with his elbow. The other man fell against the bar, blood streaming from his nose and Mick laughed in delight. “I don’t tolerate disrespect to my partner. Especially when you were desperate to gag on his cock in front of the whole damn bar not a minute ago.”
With his expression twisted into fury, the young man pulled out a switchblade and in an instant, Len had him by the wrist, smashing it down onto the bar hard enough he dropped the knife. With his other hand, Len grabbed the back of the man’s neck, slamming him into the bar as well. The poor idiot gasped from the pain of the impact as well as the strain the angle was putting on his shoulder.
Len leaned down and hissed into his ear, “I see you near my partner again, you’ll spend the rest of your life carrying your dick in a handbag.” He pulled back abruptly and the man slide to the ground. “Get out of my sight.”
He scurried out of the bar and Len turned to Mick. His eyes were narrow and jaw hard but Mick knew him well enough to tell when Len wasn’t angry at him. Mick could feel a big doofy grinned spreading over his face, hopelessly aroused by his partner. “Fuck, I love when you’re pissed.”
Len gave Mick’s clothing a pointed look. “Who picked out your outfit?”
“Lisa.”
Len’s lips twisted like he was deciding if he should thank her or yell at her for it. “Tell her not to do such a good job next time.”
Mick laughed loudly, hooking his foot behind Len’s knee, drawing his partner in between his thighs. “I dunno. Always love seeing you get hot over me. Staking your claim.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I always keep my cool.”
“Right. Damn near snapping someone’s arm out their socket is ‘keeping cool’.” Mick tilted his head, nosing along the side of Len’s neck. “Bet I could heat you up some more.”
“We’ll see.” Len’s voice wasn’t nearly as calm as his words, breathy and rough and Mick growled in response. Len grabbed Mick by the jacket and pulled him off his stool. “You going to backup your claim?”
Mick grinned, wide and victorious, ignoring the shocked and bewildered stares of those around them. “Always do.”
Sure, the night didn’t go as planned but Mick still got drilled so thoroughly he couldn’t sit right for a few days. That was a win in his book.
Change Up
The bartender held out Mick’s regular order. “Waiting for someone?”
“We’ll see who comes around,” he replied, accepting the glass as it was passed to him. The bartender stepped back with a nod. It had become a kind of pass phrase through the years at their regular places, alerting those who knew to run interference on anyone that might infringe on Mick and Len’s playdate.
Technically it wasn’t a playdate this time around as Len was in jail. Or rather was getting out of jail. The two of them had split up again about a week before he got picked up on, as Mick found after asking around, a bullshit charge. The police trying to put the fear of the law in him by tossing him in the clink for a couple months, never mind the fact that it just gave Len a chance to network with the crooks there. Fifteen, twenty years ago being on his own in prison might have made Len nervous but he built too strong a reputation by now. No one was willing to cause him trouble or allow others to cause him trouble, not when knowing Len would systematically ruin their lives in return. Or face Mick’s fiery vengeance as, outs or not, no one fucked with his partner.
So now here was Mick, sitting in a bar the two frequented on the day Len was supposed to be released, pretending he wasn’t waiting to see his partner again.
“This seat taken?”
Mick looked over his shoulder, heart aching at the sight of Len. He was looking a little pale, a little ragged, the bags under his eyes dark and his cheeks more gaunt than they should have been. Mick’s blood boiled and he gave a short shake of his head; opening his mouth would risk him breaking character at that moment. Just because other criminals knew better than to fuck with Len, that didn’t mean the guards would extend him the same consideration. Iron Heights, after all, was one of the more notoriously draconian prisons in the country for a reason.
Len sat on the stool next to Mick, gesturing for a drink that appeared in short order. Mick couldn’t look away, committing every bruise, every vaguely discolored patch of skin to memory. Len would never tell him who was behind them but Mick had plenty of friends on the inside. They’d give him at least a few names.
“See something you like?” Len asked, giving Mick a flirty, sideways look. It was his default character, the one they used when neither wanted a complicated role play. It wasn’t all that different from seductive, playful Len asides from the fact that it was in public. It was pretty guaranteed to get Mick going in short order. This time around, however, it wasn’t quite what he wanted.
On a whim, Mick decided to do something they rarely did on either a playdate or a job: he switched up the play. “I knew you were doing this to yourself.” He cupped Len’s face, familiar and gentle, feeling the rough stubble prickling his palm. “Don’t know why I thought your workaholic tendencies would stop when I left. You look terrible.”
Len huffed in quiet laughter, leaning into the touch slightly. Mick quietly thrilled at the fact Len just went with it. “This wasn’t any more your fault than the other times were. I did this to myself.” He turned his head, brushing his lips against Mick’s hand briefly before leaning away. “I get why you left. It’s not your responsibility to take care of me all the time.”
That… hit a little closer to home than Mick was prepared for. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Pretty sure you’ve done your share of taking care of me, too.”
“Not nearly enough. I’d give you the world, you know. It’s the least you deserve.”
“Does the world include you?”
Len’s eyes widened in surprise and while there was always some tiny kernel of honesty in all their playdates, Mick wasn’t certain how much was in this one. Not for Len or himself. “You- it- I can’t keep dragging you down.”
“You don’t.” Mick rested his arm on the bar, hand blatantly in Len’s space. After a moment’s hesitation, Len placed his hand over top of Mick’s. “Honestly, I do better when I’m keeping an eye on you. Have something to focus on, something to keep me busy.” That wasn’t lighting fires. “So,” he wove their fingers together, “I’m thinking about taking you home. Make sure you’re fed, tame that mop of yours a bit,” Len chuckled, touching his hair that had gotten long enough for the curls to edge into unkempt angles. “Then, when I know you’re rested, I’ll use you like a toy.”
Len spluttered and laughed, looking young in a way Mick hadn’t seen in too damn long. “So that’s the truth, huh? You’re willing to take care of me so long as I repay you in sex.”
“Sounds like a good deal to me.”
Still grinning, eyes still shining, Len pulled Mick from his stool. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
