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It had been a bloody long day already. Harry looked back at the disreputable young man looking at him and contemplated whether it would be worth making it longer.
"Hundred for a blowjob," the lad said, sidling up. He gave Harry a look of speculative, rather irritated seductiveness. He was dressed terribly, of course, and smelled distressingly of some kind of high street aftershave, but he was actually quite good looking under the loutish expression and shading brim of his cap, with wide clear greenish eyes and an impressively Golden Age of Hollywood jawline.
"How much to fuck your arse?" Harry enquired. He'd never really seen the point of beating around the bush with these things.
The lad looked taken aback and said, "Er. Three hundred."
"Fine," Harry said. "My hotel is round the corner. What shall I call you?"
"Gary," said Gary. He was looking like he wished he'd quoted a higher price, but he fell into step anyway, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders defensively and unfortunately rounded; it made him look shorter than he was, disguising the pleasantly compact stockiness of his frame. Deliberate, or simply shit posture? Harry wasn't entirely sure, and didn't especially care.
"Here for work?" Gary said, as they rounded the corner towards the Kensington Hotel.
"Don't try to chat, please," Harry said in a kind way. "I'm hiring a hole, not a personality."
Gary flushed a dull red that appeared as blotches along his cheekbones and travelled down his throat via his ears. Harry watched its progress with some fascination, wondering if he went that same colour for other things.
Harry nodded impersonally at the staff behind the reception desk, ignoring the way their gazes tracked onto Gary and back onto him with a certain amount of surprise. Going by the outbreak of awkward fidgeting at his side it wasn't lost on his companion and Harry rolled his eyes, mostly internally, put a hand on Gary's elbow and hauled him to the lift.
"Stop that," Harry said when they were moving smoothly up towards his floor. "You're not very good at this, are you? Would you have been more comfortable if I'd shoved you down and fucked your face in some filthy back alley?"
Gary drew in a shocked breath but the fidgeting stopped. Harry paused, assessing the situation, and reached over and checked. Gary was hard under his groping fingers, as Harry had thought, his cock distending the tracksuit bottoms, albeit discreetly given their slippy loose material.
"Ah," Harry said. "Perhaps you would. Sorry to disappoint, but I like my whores in comfortable surroundings."
Garry glared at him but his cock twitched with interest. Harry smirked at him, removed his hand from its indecorous position, and gestured for him to leave the lift first.
The hotel room was fine: a little shabby round the edges, but clean and decorated in a homely, slightly old-fashioned style that Harry rather liked. More importantly, the bed was large, the sheets were expensive, and the lighting was practically adequate.
He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and counted out six fifty pound notes, threw them indifferently on a side table. Gary drifted towards it with a conflicted look on his face, snatched up the notes and gave Harry a defiant look. Harry looked imperturbably back at him.
"I'm going for a quick shower," he said. "I'm leaving the door open so try to resist the temptation to rob me, please."
"I wouldn't," Gary said hoarsely, and - did he even flinch?
"Wouldn't you?" Harry said. "If you say so, I suppose. You look like you would."
Gary looked away. Harry went over to the small suitcase at the foot of the bed, opened it and chucked Gary the small tube he took out. Gary caught it and now he did look back at Harry with vulnerable shiny eyes and trembling reddened wet lips.
"That's a very pretty look," Harry said approvingly, and it was replaced by a mulish sulky expression that, sadly, looked much more natural on Gary's very pretty face. "That'll give you something to do. Open yourself up: you'll want to go to three fingers by the time I'm out of the shower because I'm certainly not going to do it for you."
"Whatever," Gary said. Harry lingered in the doorway long enough to see the clothes start coming off - very nice, as suspected, Gary was solidly built with corded defined muscle on his chest and arms and a beautifully fat cock, already hard and bobbing to his stomach when he took his underwear off.
Gary glanced at him and stood unselfconsciously naked. "Wasn't you going in the shower?" he said.
"Just deciding whether or not I actually wanted to fuck you when I got out of it," Harry said.
"And?" Gary said, bristling and preening simultaneously.
Harry dragged his gaze down Gary's body insultingly slowly. He didn't miss how Gary's cock visibly swelled further at being looked at. "You'll do," he said. "Since you're already here. And I've already paid for you. You really will want to get your arse ready for me, though; I mean to have you straight out of the shower, and get an early night."
Gary drew in a breath at that, fast, and let it out slow. His lashes dipped down, hiding his eyes, and this time the coyness seemed real. "Okay," he said. "I will."
Harry folded his clothes neatly onto the bathroom counter and took a quick but thorough shower, giving Gary enough time to do a proper job preparing himself. It was something he enjoyed with lovers, taking the time, feeling them around his fingers, seeing how they reacted, but hardly something he wished to be bothered with under current circumstances.
His dick was getting interested and he took some time to help it along, reviewing what he'd seen of Gary's body in his mind to accompany long pulls at his cock, fingers playing around the head.
By the time he stepped out of the shower and glanced out of the cracked-open door to where Gary was fucking steadily back on his own hand on the bed, balanced on his spread knees with his back to the bathroom and his head down between his shoulders, Harry was almost fully hard and very much looking forward to screwing some of that attitude out of him.
He walked out of the bathroom and over to the bed and Gary threw a look over his shoulder. Then his gaze drifted apparently uncontrollably downwards; when he saw Harry's dick he looked startled and as Harry came closer he saw why.
"Only two fingers," Harry said, and tutted. He went round behind Gary and pulled Gary's fingers unceremoniously out of his own arse, then parted his cheeks and stared at the neat pink little entrance between them. "Do you like it to hurt a bit, then? I did tell you."
"Yeah," Gary said. Harry came back round in front of him and his gaze fixed right back on Harry's cock. While he remained a little pale his eyes had a certain covetousness. "I mean, no. I meant to, I just..." he shrugged, evidently no decent excuse coming to mind.
"You can carry on," Harry said. "I'll wait." Gary gave him a guilty look and squished more lube out over his fingers, then went back in with three.
"I will need something to entertain me, though," Harry said. He gave Gary a wide, generous smile, and when Gary blinked up at him uncertainly he reached forward with both hands and took both of Gary's nipples between his fingers and twisted.
Gary howled. "Quiet, please," Harry said. "This is a decent establishment."
Gary went quiet, giving Harry a baleful look. "Fingers," Harry said pointedly. "I'm going to be doing this until you're all stretched -" words combined with his pinching his nails in delicately until Gary made a sobbing noise "- so I suppose it's up to you how much you want."
Gary was three fingers knuckle-deep in very short order and Harry moved to biting and sucking each nipple in turn while he used his fingers to worry and stretch the other.
"Do you like this?" he said at one point, putting his fingers on both at once and leaning back a bit to admire them. Gary's nipples were red, swollen and sore-looking, the area of skin round them looking pink and abused too. "Having your tits played with?"
"No," Gary bit out. Harry raised an eyebrow and looked down at his cock, which was standing straight against his flat stomach, the slit winking and blurting out pre-come every time Harry's fingers moved on his nipples. The blotchy flush did extend across his collarbones and upper chest: nice to have a theory confirmed.
"If you say so," he said. "Are you ready, then? Going to take my cock? Finally?"
Gary nodded and pulled his fingers out. Harry handed him a tissue to wipe them and sat on the bed, beckoning Gary forward onto his lap until Gary figured out the initiative to take and poised himself with one hand holding his cheeks apart, ready to earn his keep.
"No," Harry said sharply and Gary's eyes flew open. "Condom. Now. I don't know where on earth that dirty little hole's been, do I? Well, I can guess. Which is rather the problem."
Gary went red again; he looked hunted, and a little shamed. Harry set his lips in a thin line and stared at him and Gary climbed off his lap, awkward with the erection bobbing between his legs, and went to find a condom in the wreckage of his outfit on the floor.
He avoided Harry's gaze as he rolled it onto Harry's cock, which was fine. The tight, careful grip of his hand as the cool latex covered him made Harry hiss.
"Much better," he said and Gary risked a look at him. Whatever he saw, he bit his lip and straddled Harry's lap again. "Now ask me for it. Nicely."
"Please," Gary mumbled; he gave Harry a resentful glance. Harry smiled and drew a finger up the length of Gary's cock, along the sensitive underside and round the head, already poking out from his foreskin and damp. Gary bit off the deep noise that started to emerge, but he couldn't stop the tremble that went through his body, the way his lovely eyes went shocked-wide and pleasure-dark.
"Please what?" Harry coaxed. "You needn't be shy, Gary. I know you like this, begging for it like a slut. Your cock tells me. Look how hard you are." Gary wasn't looking. Harry took his chin between two fingers and a thumb and made him. "Look how you're leaking, and nobody's even really touched it. Are you such a sweet little treat for all your customers?"
"Please," Gary said again, possibly for Harry to stop talking, possibly actually for Harry's cock. "Please - give me your cock. Fuck me, put your dick in me, I need it."
"A bit too much porn," Harry said. He took his own cock in his fist, keeping it in position, and put a hand on Gary's shoulder, pressing him down so the head was just breaching his tight little hole. Gary shuddered and his cock leapt, between their bodies; his mouth formed a perfect lovely O. "I prefer a little more feeling. But I don't expect you to have imagination, so that's fine. You may sit on it."
He sat back and propped his arms along the headboard, and gave Gary an expectant, calm look. Gary swallowed and then he sank down.
His head went back in bare degrees as he did, revealing his throat almost in slow motion. Unlike his more rehearsed movements before it was captivating, and Harry was duly captivated, gaze fixed on him hungrily, almost able to ignore the feeling of his cock being engulfed by glorious grudging heat in favour of the stunning sight. He reached up and stroked Gary's neck possessively, put his fingers over his racing pulse.
"That's lovely," he said. "You were made to take dick, weren't you? No wonder your career choice. Tell me how much you love it."
"I do, yeah," Gary said, his tone lazy and soaked with want. "I love it, fuck... fuck, I'm full... big cock all inside me..."
"Yes, all right," Harry said. "As I said, there's no need for the porno ridiculousness. Move, won't you?"
"You asked," Gary said peevishly. Harry caught his eye and they shared a sudden smile. Then Harry answered the cheek with a pointed shove up of his hips, grinding up into where Gary was astride him and he was already buried balls-deep. Gary gasped and caught Harry's shoulders and thankfully started to move, thick thighs flexing and lifting him up and down with clever twists of his hips.
Harry put his hands on his waist and encouraged him into a rougher, faster pace, bouncing Gary on the full length of his cock and watching him fall into it, his hole gradually relaxing and welcoming Harry in, as sweet and eager as any Harry had ever known, squeezing Harry relentlessly and driving echoing spirals of pleasure up his spine.
"Fuck, I could come like this," Gary said breathlessly. "Your fucking cock, Jesus. Wank me off, come on -" then off Harry's look, "please, sorry, come on, please."
"I don't think so," Harry said. "Why should I? You'll have to just be grateful to be such a slut for cock you're nearly there from this." He stopped Gary on a downswing, the head of his cock lodged just inside, moved his hips in undulating little thrusts to tease Gary's rim, opening wide around the flare of the head then clenching again around the start of the shaft, never quite out.
Gary whimpered, tossed his head, grabbed his cock. "No," Harry said immediately. "Just because I'm not going to touch you doesn't mean you can do it yourself." Gary eyed him, gave himself two hefty jerks anyway and Harry took him under the thighs and lifted him, Gary yelling and trying to hold on, tipped him onto his back and covered him. He got Gary's hands easily, pulled his arms over his head.
He'd slipped out during the manoeuvre and he realigned himself at the grasping little hole and slid back in as slow and long as he liked. Oh yes, that was it: fun as it had been to watch the boy fuck himself on Harry's cock, this was better, using Gary's body as a toy for his own pleasure.
He played with different tempos and depths, watching frustration and need write themselves raw over Gary's handsome face. He could feel his cock swelling at the delicious clutch of Gary's arse, tight pleasure pooling in his groin and warming his hips and stomach and chest.
He was filled with a sudden unexpected affection and pressed a kiss to Gary's forehead. "Lovely little slut," he said fondly. Gary scowled up at him. "Lovely little arse. Well worth what I paid for it."
"Touch me, then," Gary said, desperate and red and stubborn. "Let me touch myself..."
"Say: please, sir," Harry said, grinning. He pressed in tightly, balls to arse, and started to circle his hips, on and off pressure on Gary's prostate. Gary threw his head back, cursing, and Harry bit at the long pale stretch of his throat.
"Please, Sir," Gary said, furiously.
Harry leant down to him, rubbed his chest against Gary's abused nipples. "No," he whispered into his ear and Gary moaned, said it again, more naturally, "Please..."
Harry propped himself up and shook his head, no longer bothering to even properly refuse; Gary writhed against him, trying to get friction. Harry bared his teeth in what he was aware was not really a grin, pinned him with as much of his weight as he could spare on Gary's wrists, and fucked in harder, chasing his own climax.
"Let me -" Gary panted out. "Fucking - bastard, touch me, let me, touch my fucking cock -"
"No," Harry said. He smashed into Gary a final time, held there and ground in and came with a powerful groan, happy at last.
He sank down onto the lad. Gary wriggled sullenly beneath him. "Aren't you going to get me off?" he said eventually, belligerent. His cock drooled sadly against Harry's skin, as if backing him up.
Harry rolled off him with a deep, satisfied sigh. "No," he said again. "You were paid to get me off, and you have. More than satisfactorily, might I add. You may now get dressed, and leave."
"Fucking -" Gary started, sitting up.
"Thank you," Harry said. He imbued it with a little of the danger he usually held back in polite company - not that this quite fit that description - and rolled out his complaining back.
Gary's gaze fastened on his muscled strength, as intended, and he fell silent. He got out of bed and started reassembling himself, underwear and tracksuit and finally the ridiculous cap. Harry watched for a moment, then got up, went and found his phone and checked for messages; he needed to remember to pick up milk.
There was a click - Gary opened the door. And another - he went out.
Harry lay back down and stretched out in the bed, enjoying the ache of vigorous sex: easier won than the ache of a good mission, but nevertheless with something of the same satisfaction of a job well done behind him.
Then he climbed back out of bed and went into the bathroom.
Eggsy was sitting on the closed lavatory. He was scrubbing at his eyes, his snapback knocked slightly askew; he looked up at Harry as he came in and his face was tired, but clear.
Harry smiled at him and went to his knees. He put a hand on Eggsy's thigh, then when he got a flicker of a smile back he put the other hand on Eggsy's other leg, propped his chin on his hands and squinted up at Eggsy.
He said, "Hello," and Eggsy pushed him back just enough to slide onto the floor with him, straight into Harry's welcoming arms. Harry held him tightly and breathed him in, the dear deep Eggsy-smell behind his ear where the dreadful Gary aftershave had worn off, enjoying Eggsy's embrace in turn.
"All right?" he said. It felt nice to speak gently to Eggsy after the brusqueness of the pick-up and the sex, so he said it again: "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," Eggsy said. He laughed a bit, sounding raw. "Yeah, I am. It was good. You were good. You were fucking mean."
"Meaner than you wanted?" Harry checked, although he wasn't terribly worried: they'd talked it through enough before, and Eggsy had his words and his signals for when reality didn't live up to fantasy. Their appearances weren't particularly rare, but they hadn't appeared tonight.
"No," Eggsy said. "It was great. It was just - a lot."
"You were wonderful," Harry said quietly, touching Eggsy with soft hands that made him sigh and press his hot face into Harry's throat. He brushed Eggsy's hair back from his face and kissed his temple, staying there until Eggsy relaxed and let Harry take his weight. "You're so good for me, Eggsy."
He was starting to shiver against Harry, although he was dressed and it was a warm room. Harry got up and pulled Eggsy with him, kept a tight hold; Eggsy burrowed back into his arms as soon as they were standing, tucked his head under Harry's chin and clung.
"Shower, I think," Harry said briskly. He undressed Eggsy quickly while the water heated up and then guided Eggsy in, leaned Eggsy against him, back to chest, and washed him down with a soft cloth and the shower gel they used at home, with its familiar smell on both their bodies.
He lifted Eggsy's right wrist to his mouth and kissed it, before he washed it: the finger marks there were likely to bruise, and also likely to cause impolite remarks to be made when Eggsy wore a t-shirt and a swagger into the gym at the manor during the week.
"Do you want me to bring you off now?" he said. Eggsy had never quite softened but he was getting nicely stiff again now, in the steam and comfort of the shower and with Harry near and coddling him.
Eggsy considered it while Harry washed him there, watching it happen, comfortable and quiet in Harry's hold. Harry carried on with close concentration, feeling up Eggsy's cock and bollocks and arse first with the washcloth and then rinsing Eggsy with his hands until he was clean and ragingly hard and Harry's passionately fond regard for these important features of Eggsy's anatomy had been reasserted. He gave gentler attention to Eggsy's nipples, still puffy and sensitive, cleaning around them and massaging the firm muscles of Eggsy's pecs.
Finally Eggsy shook his head. "Suck me off in bed," he said.
"Our bed?" Harry said. "Or stay here?"
"Stay here," Eggsy said, although not until that too had been fully considered. "We've paid for breakfast, haven't we?"
Harry laughed. "I'd hope we'd be equal to nipping home for a shag and back to claim breakfast with nobody being the wiser, darling." He was quite looking forward to the staff's faces when he and Eggsy went downstairs to breakfast hand in hand and were obnoxiously in love over the Continental buffet.
He helped Eggsy out of the shower and wrapped him in a warmed towel, grabbed another for himself and dried himself off roughly before he took another towel and rubbed at Eggsy's damp hair.
He took Eggsy back through into the bedroom and laid Eggsy out. Now he looked him over properly, appreciating how Eggsy seemed to glow, pale against the blue sheets, until Eggsy squirmed and smiled and reached for him, pulled Harry down on top of him.
This time Harry made his weight blanketing, securing, kissing Eggsy deeply. He'd missed that, during the sex with 'Gary', and he took the opportunity to make their kisses as long and slow as he could bear and as adoring as Eggsy would put up with. He liked being able to touch as much as he wanted too, and stroked his hands firmly up and down Eggsy's sides.
He kept that up until Eggsy started nudging him insistently downwards, and then he slid down Eggsy's body and took Eggsy's cock inside in one efficient movement, slipping Eggsy's cock silkily through the tight hole he made with his mouth and slowly along his tongue until the wet bare head constricted his throat.
He caught Eggsy's hips and held him when he tried instinctively to thrust, listened greedily for - yes, there it all was, the groan when his cock first entered the warmth and wetness of Harry's mouth, the long low sigh of pleasure as he played his tongue on the underside of Eggsy's cock, the choked cry as Harry swallowed around him. The necessary reminders to them both that they knew one another, how they knew one another, with fierce deep tenderness and willingness to please.
He pulled Eggsy's hand to his hair towards the end and let Eggsy ride his face, hips working and tongue playing until Eggsy bit off another shout and came down his throat.
They kissed again, Eggsy drowsy and seeking skin-to-skin touch and the full attention Harry wanted just as much to give, lounging on Harry's chest like he owned it and tilting up for slow lazy snogging.
"All right?" Harry said, after a while.
"Yeah," Eggsy said. He shifted so his head was on Harry's shoulder, snuggling down ready for sleep; they found one another's hands and held them. "We're more than all right."