promuseboxing | (no subject)

It wasn't too often that Stiles got to do his work in classy locations. The people who wanted someone like him usually had him doing in house visits to lonely house wives or taking people looking for something naughty but not too shady to swinger clubs. He knew how he looked, took advantage of it even. Thankfully he'd dressed to fit the occasion in his nicest I'm Totally Not A Hooker clothes so he made it to the front desk without getting tossed out with security.

"Hey there," He leaned on the front desk for all of five seconds before the look the receptionist gave him had him straightening up. "I've got an... apppointment with Mr. Whittemore up in the luxury suite. Can you call it up to confirm?" The pursed lip look didn't go away but she picked up the phone and turned away from him. Looks like they didn't want to risk offending someone who was throwing money their way. Good to know.

All too quickly the receptionist hung up and gave him terse directions to the floor and room he'd want. "Thanks. And don't worry, I'll be gone in the morning. You won't even know I was here."

A short elevator ride later, Stiles was knocking on a door that probably cost more than his entire apartment combined. Who the hell put gold leaf on a freaking door anyways?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It wasn't the first time Jackson heard or felt someone moan around his cock, and maybe it was fake, maybe it wasn't, but he was beyond thinking about that now. All he had left in him was fast, panting breaths and drawn out moans. Stiles made it look good, like there was a reason he did this for a living. He flopped on his back again, reaching down to touch the guy sucking him off, needing another connection that just wasn't Stiles' mouth on his dick.

And maybe it was because Jackson was drunker than he normally let himself get, but it wasn't much longer before he felt the edge of orgasm within reach.

"Stiles -" He gasped the name out and full-body shuddered, hand twisting into the sheets to avoid pulling on Stiles' hair. "Fuck, I'm going to -" It was a good thing he was wearing a condom because his orgasm hit him hard enough for him to choke on the word come.

Keeping his jaw relaxed, Stiles swallowed around Jackson's cock until it was spent. When it was done, he pulled back and wiped away the saliva that had gathered on his chin. Jackson looked well and truly wrecked for the moment so he took care of cleaning up the current mess so he'd have a minute to recover.

"You still alive, sunshine? We're not done yet, unless you changed your mind."

Everything properly cleaned up, Stiles returned to the bed and settled himself next to Jackson.