One Good Turn

by Stan Lee *

Althernate Universe "Escorts"

Halloween had once meant dressing up as a clown. The whole deal. Rainbow wig and red nose, striped coveralls that Sarah had made for him, a wide lipsticked mouth that she helped him apply, warning him sternly not to laugh even as she giggled helplessly at the transformation. Chris didn't do dress-up, not even for Adam, so it had fallen to uncle Buck to make a damned fool of himself. Adam had loved the clown costume from the start and had refused to countenance his uncle dressing in anything else at Halloween. Buck had hoped to eventually progress to something a little more dignified, a little more dashing. A swashbuckler, perhaps, or a cowboy. But Adam wouldn't hear of it. So a clown it was - for four beautiful years in a row.

And now he was dressing up again and he'd finally made it all the way to pirate king. With some modifications he'd never have dreamed of back then. His black, flowing pants were held together with velcro for easy tear-off, his white ruffled silk shirt was open to the navel, chest oiled, gold rings clamped to his nipples, and his ass was slicked up, ready for whomever laid claim to it with the highest bid. For the past years he had tended to lay low at Halloween, the memories of happier, more innocent times just too overwhelming. But Chris had asked him to represent the agency at the Charity Auction tonight and it seemed mean-spirited to refuse. Besides, it was high time he let go of the past and stopped allowing it to control him.

He applied a thin line of kohl to his eyelids, elongating the shape of his eyes, rouged his lips a deeper red and clipped on several pairs of dangling earrings. Then he added the finishing touches, a pouch strapped around his waist, hanging jauntily over his hip, containing not gold doubloons and pieces of eight, but flavored condoms and extra lube; and a long, jeweled dagger sheathed in a leather pouch, mostly to add an air of authenticity to his costume, although the blade was sharp enough to give him a real sense of power.

He took a final look at himself in the long mirror in his suite, as surprised by this metamorphosis as he had always been at the clown who had emerged, although not nearly as delighted. Dressing up to take a giggling, awe-filled, beloved godchild trick or treating had been one of the most wonderful experiences of his life. Dressing up to get examined and pawed and eventually "sold", to end up getting fucked or having to suck off some rich old guy who had more money than common sense was already weighing heavily on his spirit. He wished one of his colleagues had been available to take on this assignment tonight, but they had all been booked out weeks ago, had gotten dressed up with far more enthusiasm than he had and tumbled out into the night determined to have as much fun as they could despite the fact that they were all working the various society parties that were taking place around Boston tonight.

All except Chris. Who still didn't do dress-up.

He had pulled on one of his most expensive tuxedos and had left earlier for his date and Buck was sincerely glad of it. He wasn't sure that he'd be able to get dressed up like this in front of his partner, not without betraying the sorrow that lay at the heart of this experience for him. And Chris didn't need to deal with his mawkishness, not when he suffered his own pain at this time of the year.

Buck went downstairs, surprised to find Mike in the kitchen waiting for him. "Mr. Larabee asked me to drive you," Mike explained, which was odd, really. He'd worked the Charity Auction before so these were not new clients, and they were the crème de la crème of Boston's jaded underbelly so he certainly wasn't expecting any trouble. He wondered why Chris had thought it necessary to send Mike along tonight.

They drove slowly, carefully avoiding the groups of children darting across the road from building to building. Buck tried to keep his thoughts focused on work, tried not to notice how many fathers accompanied their children, how many had made the effort to dress up along with the kids. At least he didn't see any clowns out this evening.

"Guess your grandchildren are having fun tonight, Mike," he murmured.

Mike grinned at him. "Yeah. The missus usually goes over there and takes the kids out trick or treating with my daughter. She just loves it."

It was funny, really, thinking of this guy, who looked like a mob enforcer, bouncing grandchildren on his knee. But Buck of all people knew better than to judge a book by it's cover.

Buck smiled weakly. "Kids sure do get a kick out of Halloween don't they?"

"I think my lot like it almost as much as Christmas," Mike said, smiling softly. Buck glanced over at his driver, and saw something in the man's face he recognized: longing.

"Listen. Don't wait for me after you drop me off. Go on home to your family," he urged.

Mike shook his head. "Couldn't do that Mr. W. Orders from the boss."

"Well I'm issuing new orders," Buck said firmly. "I'll clear it with Chris when I get home. I'm taking a cab and that's final. You should be with your family tonight."

Mike grinned across at him. "Thanks, Mr. Wilmington," he said gratefully. "The grandchildren will be happy. I really appreciate it."

Buck waved him off, glad at least that somebody would enjoy this evening. Mike pulled up outside the historic landmark hotel, one of the traditional establishments favored by the elite. Buck knew that the whole hotel would have been booked out to the event tonight; the ballroom, the restaurants, every room and suite. He also knew that most of the regular staff would have been given a paid night off and a more informed staff put into place just for this evening's event. The people attending these particular functions were not inclined to have their secrets spread by idle gossip. Discretion was the key word tonight. The level of discretion that only the most powerful could afford.

Buck pressed a substantial tip into Mike's hands, even though he protested vigorously that he hadn't done the job properly and didn't deserve that consideration. When Mike drove off, he slipped down the alleyway that led to the side entrance of the hotel and pushed open the door, to be greeted by a burly bouncer who gave him the once over, checked the gold-embossed card that guaranteed entrance, then stepped aside, pointing wordlessly to a door on Buck's right.

Buck walked into the crowded room, his senses immediately assaulted by the heavy scent of expensive cologne. He recognized many of the other professional in the room, this was a regular event on the party circuit and all the higher end agencies sent representatives. It was a weird and symbiotic relationship that had developed over the years. The agencies provided one or two of their roster free of charge, in return for the exposure and contact this evening would provide and the enormous potential for impressing new clients. The hotel donated the space at a vastly reduced rate, in return for the promise of future business from these, the doyens of Boston society. And the clients paid fantastic sums of money at what they euphemistically called The Bachelor Charity Auction, but which the professionals had dubbed 'the meat market', with the majority of the money raised going to the various charities the clients supported. In the end, everybody came out a winner. Or that, at least, was the intent. Buck often wondered what he and his colleagues were supposed to get out of this thing, the opportunity to suck another rich cock not being much of a prize from his perspective, although he couldn't complain about the tips. They were always more than generous.

The costumes tonight were as brilliant and gaudy and fantastic as the men who wore them and Buck had to concede that whatever bright spark had decided to reschedule the Charity Auction to Halloween night had made a very good decision. Up until now it had been a black tie affair, the whores dressed as conservatively as the clients, with only their youth and beauty to distinguish them. But tonight it was going to be easy to tell who was buying and who was selling and it certainly added a little color to the event.

There was the predictable Halloween assortment of cowboys and Indians, of superheroes and villains - although personal interpretation of the costumes left little doubt as to the true nature of business here tonight. Tight denim and leather emphasized ass and cock, flowing silk barely covered chest or thigh, skin oiled or sparkling, and so much make-up it was as if half the prostitutes were women. Which they weren't. This was strictly a men-only function, catering to the most specific of tastes.

Buck glanced around the room, nodding to various acquaintances and friends, and his eyes lit up when he saw Angel floating towards him, dressed as his nickname, complete with white feathered wings that bristled when he walked. The crowd parted to make way for his elaborate costume and he glided up to Buck, a small smile on his face. He was one of the most beautiful boys Buck had ever seen and his outfit tonight had been carefully crafted to accentuate his many outstanding features. Pure white silk, cut high on the hip so that when he walked his toga swished aside to expose strongly muscled legs, cinched in tight to emphasize his tiny waist and falling enticingly over well-sculpted buttocks. His face was subtly made up to highlight his deep blue eyes, his lips outlined in pencil and filled in with a dark burgundy color, his perfumed golden hair falling in ringlets around his serene face. He was perfection and Buck knew from personal experience that his cock-sucking was a high art, a calling, a gift from God. He and Angel had worked the circuit together over the years and the boy had sucked him off occasionally at the end of a party, when they were both hard and trembling with need from hours spent servicing others with no hope of reciprocation. He had returned the favor, naturally, and Angel had taught him a trick or two that he'd found immensely useful in his own work. There was no doubt that Angel would fetch the highest price tonight. Even if he didn't look the way he did, his oral skills were legendary.

Angel laughed as he looked Buck up and down, then leaned in for a deep kiss. "Very fuckable, Wilmington," he declared. "I'd shag the arse off you myself if I had half the dosh these wankers have." And something of the angelic spell was broken. Because although Angel looked as though he'd fallen from the heavens, he was, in fact, "a fucking foul mouthed cockney slag," as he styled himself, which was probably why he hadn't been snapped up and spirited away years ago by any of the rich men waiting in the ballroom beyond.

"You look beautiful, as always," Buck smiled. "I'd do you in a heartbeat."

Angel smiled. "And what would your old man say about that, eh? Chris'd have my fucking head on a plate. Both of 'em!"

Buck laughed and his earrings jangled against his neck. "Chris would understand," he lied, leaning in close to Angel's ear to counter the noise in the room. "He knows you're irresistible, darlin'."

Angel just snorted. "Bollocks. If he thought you really had any interest in my arse he'd lock you up in that fancy house of yours, handcuff you to the bed…"

"He does that anyway," Buck cut in, grinning slyly.

"Lucky bastard," Angel said, shaking his head.

"Yeah," Buck breathed. Because he was. "How's it going with you, Angel? Haven't seen you around for a while."

Angel shrugged. "Can't complain. Some old geezer took a fancy to me for a few months. Shacked up with him for a bit but bleedin' hell he was a boring old fart! Couldn't stand it after a while so I fucked off. I'm back in Sherry's stable for now, waiting for something better to come along. Sucking a bit of cock to pass the time and pay the bills. Don't suppose you need anybody else at your place do you?" he flirted.

Buck laughed and shook his head, a little ruefully. Angel would sure liven up the place, but Chris would never stand for it. He liked the kid well enough, but Angel was as wild and unpredictable as an alley cat - content to rub up against you when he wanted something; likely to scratch the face off you when he felt pushed or cornered. Chris' strict control wouldn't suit the boy at all. And, truth to tell, Angel brought out Chris' possessive, jealous nature in spades. Chris had nursed a black eye for almost a week after he'd finally expressed his disapproval of the friendship. The kid was right, if he lived in the house Buck would find himself under armed guard 24/7, with orders to shoot to kill if Angel got within a hundred yards of him.

Angel grinned knowingly. "Perhaps not, eh love?" he said. "Oh well, maybe tonight I'll meet the man of my dreams, yeah? You never know, this time next year I might be the client instead of the meat. Then you'd better watch that gorgeous arse of yours 'cos I'll be putting my bid in for it and Chris won't have shit to say about that." He winked and turned around in a flurry of white feathers, just as the organizers threw open the wide double doors to the ballroom so that they could go in and mingle with the money.

The ballroom looked spectacular. In keeping with the evening's Halloween theme, most of the lighting was provided by candles, a violation of a hundred different safety codes, Buck warranted, but easily overlooked when you considered the power and clout of the men in this room. He was surprised to see that the clients, although still wearing the requisite formal evening attire, all work masks covering their eyes. Their nod to the festivities Buck supposed. It lent a strange and evocative atmosphere to the evening. Usually the clients and professionals mixed as though at a cocktail party, chatting amiably with each other before the real business of the Auction got underway. But tonight was quite different. For a start, an almost eerie silence reined, the sound of the string quartet unnaturally loud in the quiet. And whatever was in the air, whether it was the Halloween mood, whether the fact that the costumes made the prostitutes stand out, or whether the clients were emboldened by their partial disguises, their attentions at this early stage of the evening were more brash and arrogant than at any other function Buck had attended.

He must have been felt up a dozen times, and in the most forthright manner, each man cupping his growing erection openly, some even slipping a hand past his waistband to fondle his cock with warm, sweating palms. And whereas in the past there had been virtually no contact with the clients mouths, tonight they seemed intent on nuzzling into his neck or chest, licking or nipping at his flesh in a way he found oddly repellent. It was strange because he'd probably sucked more than half the dicks in this room, but tonight he shied away from their lips, protruding from beneath their masks in a weirdly detached way.

At one point, tipping his head back hastily to avoid a pouting mouth, he glanced over to see that Angel was staring at him, looking totally disconnected from the hand that was stroking firmly up under his gown and obviously jacking him off. He had a wicked glint in his eyes and a mysterious smile on his lips, and Buck knew that the boy was plotting something.

Walking away without a word to the man who'd been so intently focused on stroking him, leaving him with an empty hand and a gaping mouth, Angel stepped up to Buck and slipped a hand in his, pulling him away from the old man who was pawing at his chest, half pulling off his shirt in the process. Angel hurried them both to the front of the ballroom where a small stage had been erected, and pulled a reluctant Buck up onto the platform.

Leaning in close he murmured, "This is a fucking bore, man. Let's get this party started," and before Buck could even think about how to respond to that, Angel had pulled him up close and slipped his tongue deeply into Buck's mouth, probing every inch slowly and thoroughly. Buck felt his cock stiffen in response, especially when Angel licked up into the roof of his mouth and revealed one of his secret weapons, 3 studs piercing his tongue in strategic places. Buck groaned. This kid's mouth was heaven, and when Angel pulled back and grinned at him, looking like a mischievous kid about to play a trick, Buck groaned louder, following Angel with his eyes as the guy dropped to his knees and worked quickly to free Buck's cock from the confines of his pants before sucking it into his hot mouth.

Buck's fingers carded through Angel's blond ringlets and when the metal studs on the boy's tongue raked over the sensitive head of Buck's shaft, he threw back his head and clamped his lips together to stop a howl of pleasure escaping. As caught up in the sensation as he was, he didn't fail to notice a masked man in the balcony, watching him intently, his stare, even behind the mask, seeming to blaze across the room. Fuck, Buck thought. Probably one of the organizers and he and Angel were gonna get their walking papers for straying off the script and improvising. He shuddered as Angel began to deep throat him. On the other hand nobody sucked it like Angel and it might well be worth getting canned and letting the kid finish this someplace private. Besides, he thought, dropping his head back down and catching a glimpse of the clients, now all crowded around the stage watching in lust filled fascination, it didn't look as though this performance was having too adverse an effect on the evening.

When Angel ran his studded tongue up the underside of Buck's dick, bringing him so close to orgasm he could practically taste it, he eased the boy off him. He still had a job to do tonight, and if he climaxed now he'd have to work that much harder to get it up again for his client. Angel grinned up at him, cheeky little bastard, knowing full well why he'd had to stop. The kid smacked his lips noisily and made a show of tucking Buck's now aching cock back into his pants.

The men who were crowded around the stage began to applaud and Angel stood back up and gathered Buck into an embrace, kissing him sloppily. Buck pulled back, still afraid that he'd come, the young man in his arms so alive, so vibrant, temptation personified.

"You're a damned exhibitionist, son," Buck murmured into the kid's ear, and Angel laughed in delight, giving his cock a final squeeze before jumping off the stage into the arms of a dozen admirers.

Buck stepped off a little more demurely and was almost bowled over by the heady aroma of male arousal that now hung in the air as thick as the smoke from the shimmering candles. Body heat was rising and the room was becoming stuffy and overly warm, the scented candles mingled with the fragrance of a dozen different after shaves and colognes, and the increasingly pungent smell of sweat and sex. Buck was almost glad when the M.C. called for order and the escorts all made their way to the stage area so that the real event could begin.

The Auction was almost completely silent, each client holding up a numbered card when he wanted to make a bid. As expected, bidding for Angel was fast and furious and nobody was surprised when the boy fetched a price of $65,000. The part that stunned Buck was that for that fee the client would only get Angel's services until the end of the party because whatever sexual favors were offered were going to be traded publicly. The room had been set up with a number of semi-private booths, all arranged in the same way - a wide padded bench seat, a wooden table, a single armchair, partitioned on three sides by shoulder-height walls. Tonight's activities would be confined to this room and would only last until the party ended at 1:00 a.m. Buck knew that each of the men here had been offered a suite in the hotel for their use later in the night and the professionals had been advised that any business they cared to accept after the party was at their own discretion, for their regular fee. He had absolutely no intention of spending the night with any of the men in this room once the party was over, and maybe that was why Chris had sent Mike along, thinking perhaps that things might get ugly when he refused.

Angel floated off the stage, stopping first to fondle and kiss Buck one last time and whisper, "Good luck, mate. Hope yours is a bit livelier than my old codger." Buck laughed and stepped forward into the spotlight, blinking as the light flared in his eyes, blinding him temporarily. It didn't bother him. He had almost no interest in who was bidding for him, only hoped for a quick trade so that he could get on with business and possibly escape home once he'd brought his client off. He wasn't particularly worried about the price he'd fetch, he knew interest in him was running high, although how much of that had to do with Angel's little performance was anybody's guess.

He was surprised when the Auctioneer asked for a starting bid of $30,000. He'd have thought that was way too high and left little room for maneuver, but that fee was immediately accepted, just as quickly upped by $5,000 and then again by another five grand. Before he knew it, the gavel was being banged and bidding closed at $60,000. A number was pressed into his hand, the table at which his client sat, and he walked out into the gloomy ballroom feeling a little stunned.

The table was in the center of the room and he approached it slowly, checking left and right as a precaution. He recognized Anthony, a dark-skinned, athletic looking youth, bent face down over his client's table, being lustily fucked by a middle aged man, bare-assed but still wearing his jacket, shirt and tie. And to the right he saw Angel, on his knees, his head bobbing up and down in his client's lap while his wings fluttered with each movement, giving the impression they were really flapping.

Buck glanced over at his own client, who was sitting in the armchair, his spread legs leaving no doubt what he wanted. Buck stepped up close and slid gracefully to his knees between the outstretched legs, burying his face in the man's warm, hard groin and inhaling deeply. He nuzzled there for a moment, before rising up on his knees and murmuring into the man's ear, "You could have fucked me at home for free."

Chris shrugged and said softly, "Thought I'd surprise you. Thought you needed me tonight," and Buck dropped his head back down again to press his face against his lover's cock, a powerful feeling of gratitude washing like breaking waves all through him.

"Angel looks hot tonight," Chris said, and Buck stiffened, raising his head and looking at Chris warily. With the mask on it was difficult to tell what Chris was thinking, what he might mean by that comment. The muscles in his thighs were tight under Buck's palms, but that might just signal sexual tension.

"His cock-sucking still as good as ever?" Chris asked, and the tone of his voice betrayed a whole lot more about what he was feeling and it sounded awfully close to displeasure.

"Chris, it's just a job," Buck started to explain, but Chris placed a finger over his lips to silence him.

"Tonight I'm your client," he said. "I'm the man who paid $60,000 for your services and you'll do what you're told until I get my money's worth. Do you understand me?"

Yeah, he understood all right. The green-eyed monster had been aroused. His lover had seen him with Angel and now he was going to have to pay. He nodded wordlessly.

"Good," Chris said. "Stand up and strip."

Buck threw a pleading look at his partner but it was useless. There was nothing he could do but obey orders and hope for eventual forgiveness. He rose quickly and opened the single button on his shirt, letting the silk slide off his body to pool on the floor at his feet. He made short work of his pants too, pulling them off in one dramatic movement, the velcro ripping away easily, leaving him naked but for his loose belt. His hands moved to undo the buckle, but Chris hissed, "Leave it," so he dropped his arms to his side and stood motionless under Chris' keen scrutiny.

He tried not to flinch when Chris stood up abruptly and began a slow circuit around him, a hand trailing over his hip, smoothing over his buttocks, sliding up to tweak at one of the nipple rings. Buck felt unbalanced, off-guard, something he hadn't experienced in a long time. He could usually read Chris' moods quite clearly, but tonight his lover seemed as affected by the strange atmosphere as everybody else and Buck didn't know what to expect. He found the feeling both disturbing and profoundly erotic.

Chris walked back around to stand in front of him and his hand darted out suddenly to take Buck's chin in a firm grip and jerk his head so that they stood eye to eye. "Don't you ever forget that you belong to me," he warned, sending a shiver through Buck's body.

"I'm yours, Chris. Always," he said fervently.

"You're mine," Chris continued, as though he hadn't spoken. He leaned in, rubbing his clothed body up against Buck, sending his senses reeling. "I think I need to remind you what that means," he whispered.

Buck threw a startled glance at his lover but the damned mask continued to obscure his face. He licked his lips, knowing he needed to tread with care. It sounded as though Chris wanted to play but it wouldn't do to make the wrong assumption. Chris was as likely to want to take a belt to him as fuck him right now.

He barely suppressed another flinch when his lover hooked a hand behind his neck to pull him into a brutal kiss. He responded immediately, as he always did, putting all passion, all longing, all love into the kiss, hoping to soothe Chris' temper. But when Chris let him go he was shocked to find that the dagger at his waist had been unsheathed and that the point was pressing firmly against his neck.

"So my pirate, are you going to surrender to me?" Chris demanded, eyes clearly glittering behind the mask.

Buck sucked in a breath and the dagger moved against his throat, scratching into his skin.

Buck decided to take a gamble. "Make me," he said insolently, his voice a harsh whisper. The dagger hovered for a moment, then Chris laughed out loud and Buck exhaled carefully, relieved as hell. He'd been right and the game was on.

Chris withdrew the blade and he rocked forward slightly. He watched from under lowered lashes as his lover raised an arm and snapped his fingers and one of the lackeys hired to facilitate this evening's event hurried over.

"I want him bound," Chris ordered, sounding every bit as arrogant as the usual clients Buck serviced at these functions, and before he could offer even token resistance, his arms had been dragged behind his back and a thin cord wrapped quickly and efficiently around his wrists, binding them together.

"Coward," Buck hissed.

Chris surged forward, grabbing a handful of hair while once more pressing the knife to his Adam's apple. "Hush," Chris whispered. "From now on you speak only when directly addressed. Otherwise I'll have that sweet mouth gagged. And I can think of much better ways to use it."

The lackey disappeared and Chris put the knife on the table and dropped a hand down to stroke him. He was so aroused his cock felt like an iron bar, and he couldn't help jerking his hips and rubbing into the warm palm of his lover's hand. Chris leaned in to lick at his mouth, a triumphant smile on his face.

"Ready to submit now?" he urged, increasing the pace of his stroking hand.

Buck threw his head back and gulped in a deep breath, then he bent forward until his mouth was beside his lover's ear and said distinctly, "Fuck you."

The stroking hand was immediately withdrawn, and Buck had to bite down on a moan at the desperate loss. Chris just shrugged. "Guess you want to do this the hard way," he said. "Fine. Understand this. You come before I give permission and I'll have you flogged. Clear enough?"

Buck looked hard at his lover. The rules for this evening were strict: nobody could be forced, nobody had to do anything they didn't want to do, consent was absolutely required for anything outside a straightforward sexual exchange. But Chris knew he wouldn't refuse if that's what his lover wanted. He doubted Chris would go through with it. He was far too possessive to let anybody touch Buck in that way. On the other hand, the mood tonight meant anything was possible. So he nodded his head slowly, and shuddered at the strength of craving that tore through him in response to the passion so clear in Chris' eyes.

"On your knees," Chris ordered. "Time to show me what my $60,000 buys."

Buck dropped to his knees, not as gracefully this time, his balance thrown off by his bound hands. He waited while Chris unzipped, expecting his lover to undress. But Chris remained fully clothed, only pulling out his rigid cock and stroking a hand up and down it, before grasping the base.

"Suck it," he demanded, and Buck leaned forward slowly, shifting his weight slightly, while Chris fed him his shaft, clasping his free hand to the back of Buck's head to pull him down hard. Buck resisted momentarily, more to see how Chris would react than in any unwillingness to service his lover. Chris tightened his fingers in Buck's hair and pulled his head back savagely.

"Don't even think about defying me," Chris snapped. "Try that again and when I've finished with you I'll pass you around to anybody else in this room who wants to do you."

The threat was actually thrilling as hell, in a really fucked up way, though Buck knew for a fact that it was horse shit, given how deeply his lover's jealous streak ran. Still he offered no further resistance when Chris pulled his head down once again.

Chris shivered as his cock slid over Buck's tongue and down his throat. He tightened his grip, holding his lover's head ruthlessly in place while fucking his mouth relentlessly.

God how he loved this man.

When he'd arrived and the first thing he'd seen was Buck being serviced by that fucking little English cocksucker who had designs on his lover's ass, he had felt a possessive rage boil up inside him. It was one thing for Buck to get felt up by the clients, quite another for him to allow anybody else to handle him like that.

He knew these two had history. Buck had never tried to hide that, although he'd stopped talking about Angel after they had fought about him. He knew it hadn't stopped Buck helping Angel out, going to his knees for the asshole whenever he needed it. But Chris was pretty sure that his violent reaction had discouraged Buck from accepting further reciprocal blow-jobs from Angel. And now here they were, the kid all over Buck, sucking on him hungrily for everybody to see.

His first impulse had been to vault over the balcony railings and drag his lover off that stage, to haul his ass back home and lock him in their suite where nobody else would touch him. But the longer he watched Buck with Angel, the more aroused he became. Buck looked so exotic tonight, so fucking beautiful. The pair of them were magnificent together, a contrast of dark and light, strength and fragility, honesty and artifice.

He arched his back and pushed further into Buck's unresisting mouth, loving the way the man responded to him. He'd been angry when he'd seen Buck and Angel together, there was no denying that. Buck knew it, always so tuned to Chris' moods, and he had obviously been expecting a harsh reaction, some kind of punishment. It's how Chris had responded too many times in the past. But tonight he didn't want to punish Buck. This was a difficult time of year for the man, he knew that, even though Buck tried to hide it from him, and all he wanted was to hold him tight and close and show him how profoundly he was loved.

And he didn't want to come this way. He wanted to bury himself deeply inside his lover's body, to connect so closely that they became one. He eased Buck off him and was surprisingly touched when the man turned his head and lay his cheek against Chris' pulsing cock. He tangled his hands into his lover's thick hair and held him, and when Buck raised his face, a question in his eyes, he knelt down and pulled his lover in, grabbing the dagger and reaching behind his back to cut through the cord that bound him.

"Not in the mood for games after all," Buck whispered, and it was so like him to know the turn of Chris' mind.

"I just want to make love to you," Chris murmured, chafing the circulation back into Buck's wrists. Sometimes he liked to bind his lover, to assert control or maintain focus, but right now he wanted Buck's strong, warm hands all over him; stroking, petting, providing comfort and stimulation and arousal all at the same time.

"You gonna regret paying $60,000 for me?" Buck smiled.

"I'd pay any amount just to be here with you tonight," Chris said, meaning it, and Buck ducked his head, hiding his face against Chris' shoulder.

They clung together for a moment while Buck shifted gears and re-focused and when his lover raised his head again he was smiling softly. "Can we get you out of those clothes now?" he asked and Chris nodded and gave himself over to Buck's tender care. He was undressed slowly, those beautiful hands stroking over his body, touching him reverently, unerringly finding all the places that drove him wild. And after he had been effectively reduced to a shuddering, needy mass, Buck slipped a hand in his and guided him to the bench seat, laying back on it, legs spread, offering himself in the way Chris needed most.

They took their time, even though both of them were hard and desperate. They wanted to make this last, offer everything the other desired, all the things they loved to do for each other. Eventually Chris found himself buried deeply in Buck's ass, his lover bent face down over the wooden table, head cradled on his arms and thrashing from side to side, making the most erotic little gasping noises as Chris rolled his hips and thrust in slowly.

Chris was scarcely aware of anything except the body he was working so skillfully, so it took him a moment to realize that they were no longer alone in the booth, that Angel had wandered over and was now standing in front of them, transfixed by what they were doing. The boy reached out a hand and ghosted it over Buck's sweat-soaked hair, but his lover was too far gone in pleasure to notice. Chris slowed his pace as Angel walked around the table, pulling almost completely out of Buck's body, then gliding smoothly back in, all the time keeping his eyes on Angel. He watched as the kid's eyes dropped to his cock, and was amused as they widened in astonishment when he registered that Buck was being fucked bare, without a condom. Chris lifted a hand off his lover's body, pushing back the mask he still wore and recognition flared in Angel's eyes and a slow smile spread across his face.

Angel sidled closer and bent his head to murmur into Chris' ear, "Isn't it cheaper to fuck him at home?"

Chris leaned over and urged Buck up and off the table, staying buried in his body. He felt his lover stiffen slightly in his arms when he caught sight of Angel, and he soothed him with a gently stroking hand and a murmured word.

Angel cocked his head to one side, and keeping his eyes glued to Chris' face, he reached out tentatively to wrap a hand around Buck's twitching shaft. Chris held tightly as Buck shivered at the contact, and he nodded his head slightly at the question he read so easily on Angel's face. The kid's expression went almost blank, before he slid to his knees and licked up Buck's cock, then sucked it into his mouth. Buck groaned and threw his head back onto Chris' shoulder and after a moment he began to rock slowly, pushing his cock into Angel's mouth, then pushing back onto Chris' shaft. Chris dropped both hands to his lover's hips and guided his movements, changing the rhythm so that he set the pace, thrusting up into Buck, making him slide more forcefully into the mouth that surrounded him.

Buck threw one arm up and reached back to cradle Chris' head, turning his face so that they could kiss. His other hand was gripping so tightly at Chris' hip that he knew it would leave a bruise. Before long Buck's body was rigid and he was all but sobbing for breath. Angel paused for a moment and rose to his feet and Buck relaxed with a loud sigh. Angel reached to smooth a hand down Buck's cheek.

"You're not going to come for me?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Buck shook his head.

"Saving it for your old man?" Angel smirked.

Buck smiled slowly and nodded.

"Mind if I watch?" Angel breathed, glancing at Chris for permission. "Stay if you want," Chris replied.

He lowered Buck back across the table, and his lover spread his legs wide to give him better access, then he began pounding into him hard and fast, slamming him up against the table with every sharp thrust. Buck pushed back against him and soon he was pumping endlessly into his lover's body, head thrown back in ecstasy, inundated with so many emotions, swamped by gratitude and pure love.

He collapsed onto Buck's back, panting for breath, acutely aware when Angel ran a hand over his trembling body. Only when his cock slid out of his lover's body did he rouse himself, standing up shakily, easing Buck upright and guiding him to the armchair where he settled him, perched on the edge of the seat. He leaned down to kiss his lover, then knelt between his spread thighs. Angel came to sit on the arm of the chair, stroking back Buck's hair, tipping his head up for a kiss of his own. Then he dropped his eyes once again as Chris let his tongue lap gently around the head of his lover's cock. A tremor shook the big body and Buck began to moan. His shaft was hot and hard as Chris slid his mouth down on it. He knew he could make this last if he wanted, but his lover was so much in need, seemed so painfully aroused, that he decided not to prolong Buck's agony.

Sucking hard, pulling his lover deeply into his mouth, he swallowed once, twice, then raised his head again to look deeply into his lover's eyes.

"You can come now," he whispered.

And Buck reached frantically, clasped desperate hands to his head and pulled him down sharply as a thick spurt of semen shot into the back of Chris' throat. Buck's cock continued to pulse and he greedily swallowed everything his lover gave him, rolling the cock around his mouth long after Buck had finished coming. He continued to suck on it gently, watching keenly as Angel slipped a hand up under his toga, his own erection obvious. Reluctantly letting his lover's cock slip from his mouth, he leaned up to whisper into Buck's ear and was rewarded with a brilliant smile.

Buck slid his own hand up to cover Angel's cock, startling the boy who had closed his eyes. Without a word, Buck stood and pulled Angel towards the bench seat, where Chris had already settled himself. Pushing Angel to sit between Chris' legs, he then knelt and nuzzled his face into the kid's groin. Angel froze, his head turning sharply to seek out Chris' eyes.

"Relax," Chris whispered. Then he grinned. "He's pretty good at this."

"Don't I know it," Angel groaned and Chris couldn't help the slight pang of jealousy, still so strong in him. He looked down to see that Buck had stopped what he was doing and was eyeing him, a little warily. Leaning over, he scooped Buck up and pulled him into a fierce kiss, then, slowly and deliberately, he pushed his lover's head back down until his mouth covered Angel's cock. And while his lover serviced their friend, his talented mouth working him relentlessly, he kissed and nipped up the boy's neck and over his back, and soon the two of them had the kid trembling between them, before he shuddered violently and spilled into Buck's mouth.

Chris caught him up as he relaxed back, boneless and pliant, a sated grin on his face. Buck smiled up at them both but remained kneeling.

"Good?" he asked, stroking a hand up the kid's thigh.

"Fucking incredible," Angel sighed then turned slightly in Chris' arms. "You're a bloody lucky bastard, mate," he announced and Chris couldn't have agreed more.

Angel groaned as he stood up in a swirl of white silk and twitched his costume back into place. He stepped past Buck, who climbed off his knees and onto the bench seat, lying across it with his head in Chris' lap. Chris automatically reached down to stroke a hand gently, repeatedly through his lover's hair, his other hand resting lightly on Buck's hip.

"I've got a room at the hotel. Why don't you join us?" Chris offered, and he more or less meant it. Buck was his, he could afford to be generous tonight.

Angel shook his head. "God, I wish I could," he said ruefully. "But I've agreed to suck-off some rich old geezer tonight for a bloody stupid amount of money. He's waiting for me upstairs."

Buck struggled into a sitting position. "You'll take care of him in five minutes, Angel," he said. "Come to our room later. We'll wait up for you."

Angel smiled and reached out a hand to cup Buck's cheek. "This isn't just a leg-over, love. I think this might be my next shack-up. I have to suss him out, figure out his bad habits, see if he snores. But thanks. Thanks both of you." He smiled sweetly then shrugged. "Duty calls. You two enjoy each other. I'll see you at the next party." He leaned over towards Buck and began to kiss him deeply, and Chris noted how his hand strayed up Buck's thigh to fondle his lover's limp cock, which tried to respond even though it was obviously spent and exhausted. Chris tipped his head back against the bench seat and closed his eyes, resisting the urge to swat Angel's hand away and cover Buck's groin protectively with his own hand, guarding what he thought of as his territory.

Angel lifted his mouth off Buck. "You're a damned lucky bastard, too," he murmured, unable to keep a wistful note out of his voice.

He straightened for a moment, then bent down to Chris, who lifted his mouth towards the kid, enjoying the taste and warmth, feeling a thrill run through him when the studs on the boy's tongue swiped at the roof of his mouth. He shifted a little and Buck, who had dropped his head back down into Chris' lap and could obviously feel the swell of interest, chuckled quietly and turned his head to place a kiss on his awakening cock.

Angel pulled back slightly. "And you, keep this one close. You loosen your hold on him and I'll be in like a shot to carry him off, you hear?"

Chris smiled. "I won't be giving you that chance," he said, his hand clenching automatically at his lover's hip.

"Well, give him one from me then," Angel said, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "Ciao, babes."

He turned and walked off and Chris watched as he smartly dodged a dozen groping hands on his way out.

Buck turned and tucked himself into Chris' arms, his face nuzzling into the juncture of his neck. "Maybe I should get my tongue pierced," he mused. "You seemed to like it well enough."

"You're perfect just the way you are," Chris said lovingly and Buck looked a little startled at the compliment. He threw his arms around Chris and hugged him closer. "I am a damned lucky bastard," he sighed, and Chris smiled. He was the lucky one and he knew it.

"I'm guessing you sent Mike home already," Chris murmured.

Buck grinned at him, a little sheepishly.

"You're a soft touch, Wilmington," he chided gently. "Good thing they've given me a room for the night. Otherwise I'd make you walk home."

Buck just snorted.

"Ready to go upstairs then?" Chris asked, taking Buck's hand and placing it over his own cock, which was now fully awake and raring to go.

Buck grinned up at him. "Ready when you are, stud."

Buck rose and gathered up his clothing, although he made no move to dress. Chris pulled on his pants and shirt and quirked an eyebrow at his lover. "Cover yourself," he ordered mildly.

"We're only going upstairs," Buck protested. "You know the whole hotel is booked to this party. Nobody will give a damn."

"I give a damn," Chris said firmly. "I'm not having half the hotel ogling you and pawing at you. Get dressed."

Buck sighed. "You're a real prude, Larabee," he groused, but he complied, pulling on his pants and shirt.

"Quit bitching," Chris said amiably, then leaned in to whisper, "You don't want me to have to gag that sweet mouth of yours do you?" He felt a shiver run through his lover's body and smiled, although the smile faltered when Buck moved suddenly to spin him around and grab his wrists, holding them firmly behind his back. He felt a tiny jab at his neck and realized that Buck was holding the dagger to his throat, trailing it up and down lightly.

"Don't forget, you're not the client anymore, darlin'," Buck growled into his ear. "Might be that you have to surrender to me."

Chris drew in a deep, steadying breath. "Make me," he challenged as his cock twitched with arousal. Buck chuckled, low and dirty, then let him go and stepped around to face him, the dagger still pointing vaguely at him.

"If you don't behave I'll make you walk the plank," he warned.

Chris shook his head. "That's it, boy. Next year I'm choosing your costume."

Buck slung an arm over his shoulder and began to steer him towards the doors. "I was thinking something along the lines of a Roman," he murmured, licking at Chris' ear. "And you could be my slave, in chains, on your knees to me."

"Not a fucking hope in hell," Chris said firmly, although in truth the thought of playing slave to Buck's master was extremely enticing. "More likely something I can put a leash on, make you come to heel for a change."

"That could work too, darlin'," Buck breathed, and Chris wondered how it was that everything that tumbled out of his lover's mouth seemed so sexually charged. He wasn't complaining. Angel was right. He was a damned lucky bastard, and he fully intended to keep it that way.

The End