Archive of Our Own

“Scuderia Services. How may I help you?”

“…I’d like to rent someone for the night.”

"Of course. Do you have any preferences?"

​"I... someone kind?"

"Do you have any preferences in topping or bottoming?"

"Oh. I'd like to bottom."

"Do you have any unusual or extreme fetishes?"

"No, no."

"Understood. We'll send you the details of the payment by this number. When your payment is confirmed, we'll ask for the address. Your escort will be with you shortly. Enjoy."

Max couldn’t believe he’d just done that. He’d never even had sex before. And here he was, calling an escort service for a man. What was he thinking?

But the problem was that dildos just weren’t enough for him anymore. Last night, he’d taken his biggest one yet, a thirty-centimeter monstrosity that he didn’t think would actually fit inside him. It was the simultaneously the best and worst experience of his life. The best thing was obviously coming so hard he’d gotten some jizz on his face. The worst thing was that he was miserably horny.

The truth was that toys had not been enough for him from the start. He’d always wanted a real flesh-and-blood cock to fuck him—and maybe having a solid body to hold him wouldn’t be bad either—but he just didn't know how to pick up a man. He was a hundred percent gay, but that didn't mean that he was comfortable with coming onto guys. Perhaps it was lucky he'd never been interested in any of his friends. Even if he had been, he was sure he would have screwed it up. He was levels of socially inept that would shock even Shane Hollander. Picking up a man at a bar or a club was not going to happen for a very long time, if ever. It wasn’t like he had a likeable face either. Sure, some people told him that he was endearing in his own way, and that he had pretty eyes. But Max knew that he wasn’t handsome by any stretch of the word. And his resting bitch face didn’t help either. So he’d stuck to his reliable arrangement of toys under his bed. They were always there for him. They didn’t necessiate Max pulling out an awkward smile. But the monster dildo made him feel that he’d reached his limit in toys.

And then he had to go find out that George fucking Russell was fucking a hooker. 

Max worked as a strategist at Red Bull GmbH, the drink company. It was a decent job. He was good at strategizing and it paid well enough. That he could drink a lot of Red Bull for free was definitely a bonus. 

One thing he didn't like about his job was that he had an asshole of a co-worker. George Russell worked in the same department, and he antagonized Max daily. Max seriously thought he had some issues. 

One day as Russell stormed out after their usual shouting match, he dropped some card on the floor. Now, Russell might be an asshole, but Max wasn't.

"Hey, you dropped something," he called out. He picked the card up. It was a fancy deep red color with the letters "Hammertime" and "Scuderia Services" emblazoned in gold. Max turned it over. The words "Male Escort Agency" leapt out at him. 

"What the—"

The card was snatched out of his hands. Russell was right in his face and fuming. 

"You... you use those services?"

Russell opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he opened it again. 

"What if I do?"

I didn't know you were gay? "Well, I didn't know you were so desperate to get laid that you'd hire a hooker." Max decided to stick to taunting. 

Russell looked livid.

"You don't know a thing, Verstappen. These guys are not just hookers. They're escorts. They are sophisticated people. Definitely more sophisticated than you."

Max rolled his eyes. George Russell and his pretentiousness. 

That should have been the end of it. But even when Max got home, the name on the card didn't leave his mind. In the end, he looked it up. Scuderia's website and the reviews seemed legitimate. Though Max hated to admit it, the fact that George Russell was using the contact probably meant that they were reliable. Reliable for a group that sells sex, at least. 

A highly sexually frustrated virgin with such a number and a free night had led to this conclusion.

Max wasn’t sure if he was ready for this.

Charles wasn’t sure if he was ready for this.

“You’re freaking out, mate.”

“No, I’m not.” Charles replied automatically.

“You’re wearing your jacket inside out.”

Charles looked down. He was. He sighed as he pulled it off and put it on the right way.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Carlos came over to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Relax. It isn’t that different from your normal sex.”

“So you keep saying! But it can't be the same. What if I screw things up?”

Carlos brought both hands down hard on his shoulders. Charles jumped, then settled.

“You’re a good guy. I trust you to be patient enough to keep trying to make the client feel good.”

Then he took his hands off and laid his chin over one shoulder.

“But if all else fails, I just know the client won’t sue us because of this pretty face.” Carlos made a kissy face at him.

“That is awfully helpful, thank you, Carlos.” Charles said, smiling wrily.

“Don’t mention it. It really is a blessing, you know. Especially in this business.”

Charles wasn’t so sure. If not for his face, he probably wouldn’t be having sex with a stranger for money. He just happened to be what this “business” was looking for. A good-looking face in a financial pinch. Charles knew he couldn't really complain about it. It was his workplace after all. He was a call operator here at Scuderia Services, the best gay escort agency in the city. Or so they claimed. Working for a prostitution network was not exactly what he had imagined for life, but a modest background and terrible luck had landed him in debt. At least the people here were decent. Charles got on well with all of them. They made good money, too. Even though Charles was just an operator, he made much more than he would as an operator in any other business. 

But recently his dog Leo got sick. He needed surgery, but Charles didn't have the money to pay for it. He went to his boss to ask if he could receive his monthly pay in advance, but he got turned down. That's when the other employees stepped in. Sebastian, who was the unofficial manager of the escorts, suggested it first.

"How about going out just once? I know you don't sleep with men, but. It pays well. Once would be enough to cover your expenses. And I don’t even have to say that anyone would love to have you in their bed."

Charles was heterosexual, but he could see that the employees here were good-looking. The praise would have been flattering, in any other circumstance. Charles knew it was not a light suggestion because they were allowing him a single chance to take someone else's shift. 

Finally he answered yes. 

So now here he was, preparing to take a man to bed for the first time. While getting paid for it.

He just hoped he would be able to find the prostate.

The bell rang.

Max, who had been adjusting the placement of the newly bought condoms in the bedside drawer for the dozenth time, jumped. He slammed the drawer shut and ran to the front door. Right there he stood still for a moment, evening out his breaths. He checked himself in the entrance mirror. He was dressed down in just his company shirt and jeans. It would have to do. He quickly ran his hands through his hair. Then he opened the door.

And promptly lost his breath all over again.

Standing at the door was the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen in his life. That was including anyone he’d seen on a screen. He was also casually dressed, in a black jacket and wide jeans. 

But his face, god, his face. 

His almond shaped eyes were luminescent, a whirlwind of dark colors. His eyebrows were thick and perfectly shaped. The overhead light highlighted his long, straight nose. Pink, cupid’s-bow lips graced him with a smile. All these features, arranged symmetrically within his small face, came together in a way that was even better than the sum of the parts. His dark brown hair was curly and soft-looking. There was a gentleness about him that immediately drew the heart to him. The laugh lines around his eyes, the curl to the corner of his lips. And were those dimples?

This was way beyond Max's imagination.

He was not going to survive this.

“Hi,” the man spoke, “you are Max?”

There was an accent in his English, which only made him more enticing.

“Yeah,” said Max. He was embarrassed to hear that his voice sounded breathy. But how could it be helped in front of this gorgeous specimen?

“I’m Charles.” The man said warmly. “May I come in?”

Max nodded enthusiastically and stepped aside to let this fantasy man in. Charles's body was better than anyone with that face should have. He was all long, straight lines. He had a thick neck, wide shoulders that tapered into a slender waist, and the best thing was that he was tall enough to look Max in the eye. When their shoulders brushed, Max could smell him, and whatever he was wearing was amazing.

This man could clearly pick up anyone. Why was he in the business? He could have his pick of rich suitors and live off on pocket money.

But maybe he didn’t want that kind of life. Or maybe he just enjoyed sex. Who knew. Maybe he liked people like Max gawking at him without a clue what to do. It seemed likely, with the way his smile was growing. Max couldn’t even tell him off for that because he was so, so pretty when he smiled.

“You’re beautiful.”

Fuck. Max’s brain-to-mouth filter was shot. But, to Max's amazement, the man brought his hand up to his neck and smiled in a very shy way. 

Holy shit.

“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He looked up from beneath his beautiful eyelashes at Max. His eyes were honest and clear as they looked Max up and down. 

What. was. happening. 

Max shook his head. This had to be a marketing strategy. It had to be. Why this man would need one was beyond him, but to think this man actually thought that Max was attractive? That would be insane. Right? 

He probably said that to all his clients.

He needed to stop thinking.

“This way.”

Max led the man to his bedroom. He’d spent some time making the sheets as perfect as he could. Now that he thought of it, he didn’t know why. They would get messed up anyway.

A voice came from behind his back.

“So… how do you want to do this?”

Max turned back. The beautiful man, Charles, was fidgeting with his hands. They were lovely hands, Max couldn’t help noticing. His fingernails were neat, his fingers just the right amount of thick, and veins stood out on the back of his hands. Max’s mouth watered just by looking at them. What he wanted was to have those fingers in his mouth.

Well, why not go all in?

Max stepped forward and took hold of Charles’s right hand. He didn’t notice Charles smiling and trying to grip back as in a handshake. He just pulled it up and took the forefinger into his mouth. A shocked gasp came from Charles. The finger was just as perfect in his mouth as he'd imagined, with knuckles that were noticeably thicker than the stem. He sucked on it subconsciously. It felt simply lovely to have something so obviously masculine in his mouth.

Max flicked his eyes up. Charles was staring at him with huge eyes. He seemed to be stuck in a state of incomprehension. Max thought he was being obvious, but maybe he could stand to be clearer. He took the middle finger into his mouth as well and sucked them both, hard. The fingers flexed on his tongue, and he moaned at the feeling. Charles muttered something under his breath. Was it French? 

Then he asked, 

“May I touch you?”

Max could point out that he was already touching him, but his mouth was satisfyingly full, so he just nodded. He was expecting the man to put a hand down Max’s pants. Instead, a soft touch came to the underside of his lips. Charles’s thumb traced Max’s lower lip slowly, almost reverently.

“Your lips... they are perfect.”

Charles looked up, and upon meeting Max’s eyes, smiled angelically.

“May I kiss you?”

Max’s stomach fluttered. 

He pulled the fingers out immediately and kissed him with all his fervor. Charles kissed back, moaning. It was a heady feeling. Max was expecting a rough, lust-filled kiss, a precursor to sex. But the kiss was so achingly sweet, his toes curled. He was slow and methodic, taking Max apart piece by piece. 

Why did this beautiful man have to be so sweet?

Max needed him inside immediately.

He placed himself on the bed, and began undressing. Charles’s stare made him a little self-conscious, but his need was definitely winning. He dressed down to his boxers and encouraged Charles to do the same. Charles started at that, and undressed hastily. It was as if he almost forgot to undress while looking at Max. A stupid notion, right? When Charles was even more stunning under his clothes. His muscles were not showy, but compact. Muscles made from real work. Max was starting to be certain this was some very vivid, idealistic dream.

Max realized that Charles’s attention was focused on his chest. That made him feel self-conscious. He knew what he ate tended to go to his chest and belly. 

A veined hand came to rest on his left pec. It was the clean one, not the one Max had slobbered on just a minute before. The warm, dry hand squeezed down slowly. A high-pitched whimper came out of Max. Then he covered his mouth. What was that sound? It had to have been the least sexy thing Charles had ever heard in bed.

But Charles was still fixated on his chest. The soft muscle of his chest was spilling through the tan fingers. Was he imagining things, or was Charles’s breathing becoming heavier?

“Wow. Your tits are so gorgeous.”

Max jolted. Charles drew his hand back at the same time. It was as if they had been electrocuted together. 

Charles looked horrified with himself. 

“Fuck, I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have said that."

Max just looked at him with wide eyes. Heat creeped up his neck.

Why was that hot? 

He was pretty sure he’d never been into feminization. But the way Charles said it was so reverent, it didn’t seem like a crude word.

"I know you’re not a girl. I’m so sorry.”

Charles seemed to be panicking. It was wholly unnecessary. Max couldn’t let him go on.

“No, I… I liked it.”

Charles’s eyes widened. Max could see yellow at the core of his irises.

“Really?”

Max nodded, face on fire. He was not going to say it again out loud. 

Charles's eyes softened.

“You have beautiful tits, Max. Better than any I’ve seen on a man." Then he shook his head. "Better than any I've ever seen before, actually. They look like they’re made to be worshipped.”

Max blushed fiercely. He'd never thought his body would be praised so effusively. 

Charles brought both hands up to his chest and began massaging them. With the fingers still wet from Max’s spit, he toyed with his nipple. Max moaned at the cold, wet stimulation. The other nipple got engulfed in Charles’s mouth. Max shouted. He’d never known his nipples were so sensitive. They gave off the most teasingly delicious pleasure. Max felt like he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Please, more,” he whined.

That seemed to set Charles off.

“You really like this,” he said disbelievingly. “I didn’t know….”

Without finishing his sentence, he swooped down and claimed Max’s nipple back in his mouth. Then, placing it between his teeth, he pulled without mercy.

Max screamed.

His back arched off the bed. His eyes rolled back. When he came back to himself, he realized his crotch was wet. The fuck? He looked down, but he didn’t need to see to know that he had finished. Just from his tits being played with. What the fuck.

Charles seemed to be similarly affected.

“Max, did you just…”

“I—”

“Fuck, that’s so hot.” Charles groaned. "Did it feel that good?”

He was stroking between his legs like he couldn’t help it. Max felt drunk on power. He did that. He'd reduced this handsome man to a mess. He threw off his stained boxers. Then he gestured to Charles.

“Let me see you, too.”

Charles wasted no time shoving his underwear off. Max was met with the sight of a glistening artwork of a cock. Pre-come ran down its luscious red body adorned with veins, just like his hand. Max needed it in him like yesterday.

He spread his legs wide, not knowing what he was doing at all, but trying his best to look inviting.

“Come on. Fuck me.”

For the first time in his life, Charles was looking between the legs of a man. It should be alarming. Strange. But all he could think about was getting inside that hole.

A very enticing pink hole beckoning to him from between the legs of the sexiest body he’d ever had the pleasure of worshipping.

A hole that probably needed stretching. Not him going all caveman.

‘Remember, a man doesn’t get wet like a woman does, so be sure to use enough lubrication,’ Carlos's voice said in his head.

“Where is the lube?” he asked, as calmly as he could act. Max pointed to the drawer next to the bed.

From inside the drawer, Charles fished out a halfway used-up bottle of lube and a condom. This innocent-looking man must have gotten more action than he’d imagined. It put a twisting feeling in his stomach. He accidently squeezed the bottle too hard. A huge dollop of lube fell onto his palm and ran over onto the bed.

“I don’t need that much. Actually, I don’t need any today. I prepped myself earlier.” Max said casually.

Fuck. Charles stared at him helplessly. He looked at the hole again, like he could figure it out if he looked at it hard enough. Why was that so hot? And why did he feel… robbed? Charles could have stretched him. He would’ve liked to stretch him. 

“Don’t do that next time,” he blurted out.

Just as he said that, he remembered that this was a one-time transaction. Max blinked. Oh no. Why did he say such a stupid thing? But Max’s voice, when he said the next words, was docile and a little in awe.

“Yeah. Yes, I won’t.”

Those words did something to Charles. Maybe it was a fantasy for Max. Just the fantasy of this being lovemaking between lovers. It hardly meant that Max actually wanted Charles again. But it didn't matter. He knew, in that moment, that he would try to make this night just right for Max.

He took a deep breath. 

He warmed the lube on his fingers as best as he could. Max looked so shameless with his legs open to the farthest degree. Charles moved forward. He wasn't used to the low placement of the hole, but he could make it work. Charles put his clean hand underneath Max's waist and lifted him up. 

"What— oh my god."

He slid his knees under the edge of Max's butt and lifted his legs up to his shoulders. Now he had a perfect view of where he was going to go. Max was looking at him like he was a bit crazy. Charles hoped it was the good crazy.

Charles placed his finger on the edge of the hole gently. It was very warm, almost hot. A soft moan sounded above him. Encouraged, Charles drew circles around the hole, testing the pressure. He had no reference for this except ten minutes of porn. He hoped he was doing things right. Not because he would be ashamed if this didn’t go well, not anymore, but because Max deserved someone to take care of him.

“I’ll put it in now.”

“Yes, please.” Max sounded strained. Charles looked up at him to gauge him. Max’s flush, which had receded a bit after his orgasm, was in full force again. His eyes were wild and his skin was dotted with sweat. Charles swallowed and came back to his entrance. With the most care he could come up with, he plunged the tip of his finger into the hole.

Instantly he was wrapped up in incredible heat. It was even tighter than he'd imagined. He could feel the vibrations of Max’s moan through his finger, which made him slightly dizzy. He looked to Max’s face for any discomfort, but all he could find was arousal and impatience.

“More, please, gimme more Charlie.”

Charlie?

Charles felt his cheeks heat up at the nickname. He was so glad he’d given Max his real name on a whim. He inched his finger inside the wet warmth slowly. It sank in smoothly, like Max’s body had been waiting for him. The thought made him moan as well. 

Max wriggled around like he couldn't keep still. Charles could read him now. He didn’t wait too long to start moving his finger in and out. Max’s insides gripped him so strongly he needed to put quite some force into his movements. It was amazing, how a single orifice could be so pliable and demanding at the same time. It was nothing like anything he’d experienced before. Although, he imagined, that had a lot to do with the person he was with.

Max was magnificent in his pleasure and frustration. His mouth was open in a wide O, and moans were now constantly falling from that delectable mouth. He made aborted thrusts of his hips back onto Charles’s finger like he couldn’t help himself. His muscles twisted and bulged with each motion of his hips. His thighs, stomach, ass, even his forearms holding onto the comforter for dear life, were like something out of an art film. That formerly smooth white skin becoming pink and wet from exertion was something to see. Charles couldn’t decide between watching his face, his body, and his hole. If this was what a sexuality crisis looked like, Charles could have one for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day.

Max whined, “Charles,” and that snapped him out of his reverie. “Don’t tease.”

Charles had not been teasing, and he didn’t have any intention of doing so either. He had no desire to deny Max. He worked Max’s hole up to three fingers. The way his rim stretched red to fit around his fingers was more arousing than it had any right to be. He was nearing the end of his patience. He started pulling his fingers out, only to be blocked by Max’s desperately whine.

“No!”

Max’s thick thighs tightened around Charles’s neck, almost choking him. Charles was caught.

“Max?”

“Please, don’t pull out.”

Charles took a deep breath.

“I have to pull them out to fuck you, Max. Don’t you want that?”

As he said it, he realized it could be true. Max could have changed his mind and decided that Charles’s fingers were better than his cock. 

But Max hadn’t even tried Charles’s cock yet. Charles felt that it should be given a chance.

Thankfully, all his worries were for nothing.

“I want that. I just don’t want your fingers to leave.” Max said petulantly. 

Charles laughed at that. God, he was so cute. Charles had certainly gotten lucky.

“Well, chéri, they can’t both go in now.”

Max’s eyes widened. His thighs spasmed around Charles. The blotches on his cheeks got even darker.

What? He was not going to stretch Max that much!

Chéri. Max’s heart was about to beat right through his chest. He couldn’t deal with this beautiful man calling him chéri, for fuck’s sake.

Charles only looked perplexed, the bastard. He probably said things like that to his clients all the time. He must be the most lucrative hooker in this city. Max tried not to be bothered by that, but now his heart was aching for a different reason.

“Come on, Max. At least let me put a condom on.” Charles said in a sweet voice, cajoling.

Fuck. This was not the time to be pining.

He had a dick to be fucked with.

Max raised his upper body and to get a hold of that dick. A surprised moan broke out of Charles. His hips stuttered. That had Max smiling again.

“Come on up here. Let me do it.”

Charles hesitated, but he acquiesced. He put Max's legs down from his shoulders and shuffled forward as much as he could.

In Max’s imagination, he ripped the condom off sexily with his teeth and smoothly rolled it down onto Charles’s penis without a hitch. In reality, his teeth were not functioning as they should. He felt awkward and stupid as his teeth kept slipping on the wrapper. He ended up ripping it with his hands. He was glad to see that Charles’s dick was still erect after that. After a bit of fumbling, he succeeded in rolling the condom down. It felt like such an achievement. Max couldn’t help looking up at Charles, proud. Charles’s shoulders were shaking a little, but his eyes were very fond. Max would take whatever small victories he could.

“Thank you, baby. Now will you let me pull these fingers out?”

Max nodded, embarrassed and mollified.

Charles pulled his fingers out carefully. Max felt like a cavern was opening up inside of him. Whatever drive had led to Max calling the service returned tenfold. He couldn’t help mewling.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease, Charles, come on, get in!”

Charles looked flushed as well.

“It’s alright, chéri, shhh….”

He aimed his dick and entered Max in one swift, smooth thrust.

Indescribable pleasure ripped through him. Max’s eyes rolled back in his head. His mouth gaped open, but no sound came out. Any and all thought went out of his head. All he could focus on was the hot, pulsing length inside of him. He was so full, he was bursting at the seams. It was nothing like his toys. He didn't just feel full. He felt whole.

He'd never feel the same again without this man.

He succeeded in looking up at Charles. Charles was wrecked. He’d been mostly suave until now, the picture of a man who knew what he was doing. But now his breaths rocked his whole body, sweat dotted his beautiful face, and his muscles were quivering all over. He looked on the edge of falling apart. And god, his eyes. His eyes were burning deeply and fiercely. Max felt electrocuted just by looking at him. As he shivered, his insides clenched up, and the pressure made them both moan.

“God, Max, you feel perfect.”

The praise, delivered in Charles’s low, deep voice was like opium to Max. He was so full but he wanted more, immediately.

“Charles, please, move.”

Charles didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled back, which made Max moan again, and then delivered. He hit Max’s prostate dead on. An inhuman noise came out of his mouth.

Charles stopped.

“Max?”

Max was swimming in bliss. Fuck. That shit was strong.

“Are you alright?”

Max found his voice.

“Yes, yes, I’m perfect. Don’t stop. Keep going.”

Charles’s face bloomed. It was like staring into a thousand suns. Max was already going into overstimulation. Charles thrust back in with a loud thwack. Max moaned loudly again. There was no way to hold his voice in. He was flung into the tides quickly, with only the man in front of him as an anchor. He reached out blindly. His hands caught onto Charles’s arm and shoulder, holding on for dear life. Charles moved the arm that Max was holding onto. For a split second, Max was afraid that he would remove his hand. But all he did was bring his hand up so that Charles could hold Max’s hand. He tangled their fingers and brought it up to his mouth. Max’s heartrate skyrocketed as Charles kissed the back of Max’s hand. Then he placed their entwined hands down on the bed. Fuck. The casual display of strength in holding his body up with a single arm, combined with the casual display of affection, was almost enough to make Max come on the spot. His body squeezed down on the cock inside of him.

“Ah….”

Charles let out a surprised moan. The audacity of this man to be surprised that Max got aroused from that. Max wanted to pay him back in some way. 

He had an idea. He didn’t know if he was capable of it, but others did it, so why couldn’t he?

“Charles, wait.”

Charles stopped moving immediately. Concern overtook his features.

“What is it? Did I hurt you?”

Max shook his head.

"Just pull out for a bit.”

Charles's hands felt cold as he pulled out. He'd messed up, he was sure of it. Why was it that the first time he tried it with a man, it had to be Max? He hated himself for letting Max down. 

He was brought out of his spiral by his world turning upside down. Literally. Max had flipped them over so that now Charles was lying on the bed and Max was above him. 

"Max...?"

With the lights behind him, it was hard to see Max's expression. Charles was nervous. Did this mean that Max wanted to top? Had he been so bad that Max changed his mind?

A firm hand gripped Charles's cock. Arousal jolted through his body again. Max rose up on his knees and brought the head of the cock to his hot, wet hole. Was he going to--? Charles held his breath as Max started to sink down. The pressure was mind-numbing. It was his second time entering him but it shocked him like the first. He still couldn't believe how tight Max was. 

Max was struggling to sink down. Charles could see his thick thighs shaking. As soon as the head popped inside, Max tipped forward with a groan. Charles hurried to catch him.

"Fuck, you're so big."

The hint of reproach in his voice was unfortunately a direct line to his cock. Charles had no idea what to do.

"Sorry, I— what should I do?"

Max looked at him incredulously.

"You're the expert. You tell me."

I'm the furthest thing from an expert, Charles thought, but he couldn't say that. He had to make the best of this situation. 

"We could dislodge and add more lube?"

"No!" Max said vehemently. "I'm not going to give up. I'm already halfway down."

There was a lot more than half left, but again Charles didn't think that would be helpful to say. He tried to take on a different approach.

"You have to relax, Max. Come on. You've taken it before, I know you can do it again," he said gently. 

Max seemed to like that, by the way his mouth opened and his pupils dilated. He took deliberate deep breaths. The tension in his body reduced bit by bit. He sank down a little bit more. 

"That's good, Max. There's a good boy."

Max gasped. He slid down several centimeters at once. Charles's cock was suddenly more than halfway engulfed in warmth. Charles groaned in surprise. 

"That... fuck, Max, are you alright?"

Max looked like he was having an experience. His cheeks were so blotchy they were almost fuchsia. He looked at Charles like Charles was the one who'd pushed him down. But Charles hadn't done anything. 

Or had he?

"Good boy, Max," he whispered.

Max whimpered and clenched immediately. Charles felt as if he were under a spell. 

"Come on, darling, you only have a little left." Charles cajoled. "I'll help you, yes?"

Charles coaxed Max to pull off a little and sink down again, this time a little deeper. Max was breathing hard, but he was not panicking now, only hungry. They went on like that until Max's ass met Charles's hips. Charles let out a long breath. The pressure was incredible on all sides, even better than when Max had been lying down. And Max on top was a vision. He looked like a champion. When he started moving up and down, Charles was gone. He started babbling nonsensically, praises and curses, English and French falling out of his mouth without reason. Max grinned triumphantly at that, the minx. He rode Charles harder and harder, like he was going to get tested for it. Charles didn't know how he was going to last. He couldn't remember why he needed to.

"Max," he gasped, "Max, I'm going to come."

"Come for me, Charles." Max commanded. 

The orgasm was blinding. His vision whited out. Charles didn't know if he moaned or shouted. He was flung out of his body, out of existence. All he could feel was heat where they were connected. 

Then he felt Max tensing around him as well. He fought against the white-hot pleasure to open his eyes, just in time to see Max's cock spurt. Fuck, could a man come without any stimulation on their cock? With colossal effort, he reached out to grasp the cock in his hand.

"A-ahh!"

Max shouted, his voice rising octaves higher. Charles squeezed and milked the cock as best as he could. Max doubled over, keening. His cock kept spraying come all over their bodies. Charles had never seen anything so filthy. He wanted to lick it all up. He wanted to feed it to Max. 

When it was finally over, Max slumped over him. He was heavy, but Charles reveled in the weight. He couldn't believe that he'd actually done that. That he'd made a beautiful man come that hard just by fucking him. Max had clearly enjoyed it, by the way he was floating and nuzzling at Charles's chest. Charles held onto his warm, sturdy body tightly. 

All he wanted to do was stay in bed with this lovely man until the end of time. 

Reality started to settle in. It was wonderful that Max had found pleasure in him. But to him, Charles was only a hooker. He was expected to leave now. Charles slowly untangled himself from Max and found some wet wipes to wipe them down with. Max was still bleary-eyed, and he responded to Charles's touches with blissful hums. Stupidly, Charles felt like crying. But that would only ruin what had been a good release for Max. He busied himself with getting dressed again. Before leaving, he spared a last glance at Max. Max had his eyes closed with a glowing smile on his face. Charles couldn't resist leaning down to give him a peck on the forehead. 

"Adieu, mon amour."

"For fuck's sake! Are you blind? Watch where you put that stuff, fucking prick!"

Russell put down the files with a huge annoying huff. 

"Seriously, mate, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Max glared at him.

"What is wrong with me? Nothing is wrong with me. You're the one who's messing up my desk!"

"It's not your desk, it's communal space. And though it kills me to admit it, you're usually not this much of a bitch about it."

"Fuck off," said Max, automatically.

"What's got your panties in a twist? Do you need to get laid?"

Max got up so swiftly his chair spun. He marched up to Russell and got right up in his face. 

"I said, fuck, off," he said through his teeth.

Russell looked offended and intimidated all at once. Apparently deciding that today was not the day to pick a fight, he backed off with some muttered curses. 

Max dropped back into his seat and screamed silently into his hands. 

Because he knew that Russell was right. He had not been the same since he woke up to realize that Charles had left. He couldn't ignore his feelings anymore. He had made the most laughable mistake in the history of mankind. 

He had fallen for a hooker.

In the evening, Max sat down on the edge of the bed with his phone. Just like he'd done a few weeks ago. He remembered wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. He did the same thing now. The second time was not easier at all. He pushed in the numbers and pressed the green call button. 

Drrrr- Drrrr-

"Hello. This is Scuderia Services. How may I help you?"

Max was struck dumb.

Because the low, gentle, accented voice on the phone was the voice that he'd been hearing in his dreams for weeks. 

He unstuck his tongue.

"Charles?"

The other end went silent. Max waited out the silence with growing trepidation. 

"Max?"

Max almost shouted with relief. Charles recognized his voice! 

"Hi," said Max breathlessly. He probably sounded too eager. He didn't care. "Are you supposed to be answering calls? Are you short on staff?"

Another silence rang out loudly. Max had to take a look at the screen to see if the call had disconnected. It hadn't.

Finally, Charles's voice came through. 

"Max... I've not been honest about something. I... I am not actually an escort here."

Max's ears rang. 

"What? What do you mean?"

Charles's voice was threaded with nerves.

"I mean, I'm actually a phone operator here. This is my regular job. I only took on your call because I was short on money at that time."

Max felt too many things at once. He had started pacing around the room at some point, but now he sat down to absorb what Charles was saying. 

Charles was not a hooker. He didn't normally sleep with people for money. His financial situation was better now. He didn't have to sleep with people he didn't love.

Which would be great news if Max was his lover.

But he wasn't. Charles might have a boyfriend, or a girlfriend. He might love him or her. If it wasn't his job, he would have no reason to sleep with Max again. And there wasn't anything Max could do about it. 

Max must have been silent for too long, because Charles's anxious voice came through.

"Max? Are you still there?"

Max cleared his throat.

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you thought something different."

"You don't have to apologize." And he really didn't. He hadn't lied to Max outright. He'd done his job well. A little too well, but that was Max's problem. Charles was just being kind about it.

"Still, I'm sorry." 

Stupidly kind, like Max said. Why did this magnificent sex god have to be so nice as well? It was awful.

"So...... did you call to request someone?"

Max had to laugh at that. 

"Not anymore."

"Sorry?"

Charles sounded genuinely puzzled. Did Max have to spell it out for him? 

"I was calling to request you, but you seem unavailable. So, no, not anymore."

There was an intake of breath on the other side. Then a shaky exhale.

"You... wanted me?"

Max rolled his eyes, even as he blushed.

"Yes, Charles. Don't act like you don't know you're good."

There was a pregnant pause.

"I actually don't, Max. That time with you was my first time with a man."

"What?!"

The exclamation burst out without any thought. But, seriously?

"Seriously? You're not messing with me?"

"No, I'm very serious." Charles gave a nervous giggle. God, it was endearing. Max wished he could see him. "I'm glad that it was so good for you." His voice softened at the end. Max had to stop himself from melting into a puddle. 

He really had to, because this conversation couldn't go anywhere. 

"I guess this is it, then." 

He could hear his own voice dripping with regret. He refused to be ashamed about it. 

"Wait."

Max held his breath.

"Max, would you like to go out with me?"

Max had to be hallucinating. He didn't hear that right, did he?

"Sorry, I didn't hear you?"

He could hear Charles taking a deep breath.

"Max, would you like to go out with me?" He enunciated carefully.

The second time didn't make it any less surreal. 

Because why would this perfect specimen of a man ask Max out?

He almost expected Charles to take it back and say it was a joke. When that didn't happen, he had to ask.

"Why?"

"Max," Charles sounded exasperated, but fond. "I can now see why you were so frustrated with me. Don't you know how good you are? And I don't mean just at sex. You were really lovely to meet. You're so honest and direct. You don't hesitate to go after what you want. It's very attractive."

Max's heart was thudding, galloping, speeding like a race car. 

"I would like to get to know you more. If you will let me."

Max didn't know how this fortune came to be. He still wasn't sure what Charles saw in him. But he wasn't stupid. He was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He could take this chance to be whole again.

"Yes. Yes, I'd love to go out with you."

I love you. 

That's what it sounded like, and that's what would come to be.