by Kara Greenan
London shakes his head. “Nah, that’s boring. You’ll have to ask me something different.”
Sebastian pouts while crossing his leg, his foot accidentally touching London’s calf and even in the dim light, he can see that it elicits a slight flush on London’s face. Before he can explore that any further, the waiter interrupts. He’s professional about it, and polite. But his eyes keep travelling to London’s face, angled as he studies the menu. And then he’s just a tad too friendly, too flustered, when London orders. Hell, he doesn’t even glance at Sebastian for more than a second when he goes for a glass of the house wine and some sparkling water.
“That’s just rude,” he says after the guy is gone with another backwards glance to London and a promise to be extra swift.
London is still absorbed in the menu, apparently enamored with the pasta. “What is?”
Sebastian tries to reign in this rather sudden and somewhat new feeling. He takes a deep breath, tries to sound detached but mostly fails. “The waiter was totally flirting with you. I mean it’s pretty clear we’re here on a date and he actually flirted with you.”
London does look up from the menu then. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, his face oddly shuttered.
“Is this a ploy?” He doesn’t sound angry, only oddly intrigued. “Make me feel secure in your interest? Or are you genuinely jealous?”
“I’m not jealous!” It comes out much too fast, more telling than his current introspection. He clears his throat. “I don’t do jealousy.”
“Right.”
When their waiter returns – a pretty enough guy in his twenties – London gives him a friendly smile.
“Thank you so much,” he all but simpers at him, getting a bright smile in return.
Sebastian can feel his shoulders tighten and a scowl forming on his face. London looks delighted, before returning his attention to the waiter.
“About the food,” London says, voice low so that the guy has to lean in. “What would you recommend?”
Sebastian opens his mouth to intervene – but London kicks him in the shin, hard enough for his mouth to snap shut. While the waiter launches into their specials, London shifts a couple of times.
“Oh,” he says breathily, holding out his menu. “Which one is that, can you show me? It sounds delicious.”
Just as the waiter leans in to point out the dish, Sebastian opens his mouth again, brow set in a confused line.
“You know –” he starts but breaks off the moment he feels London's foot, no shoe and probably no sock, against his calf, toes stroking up the side of his leg.
London gently places his hand on the waiter’s arm, looking at him with innocent eyes. “What else would you recommend?”
He moves his foot, plants it right in the middle of Sebastian’s thighs. Sebastian grunts and shifts, legs falling open easily for London's foot to slip between, nestling in nice and tight against Sebastian’s crotch.
Yes, definitely no sock.
The waiter is still talking, London looking at him with interest while he slides the sole of his foot along Sebastian’s zip. Sebastian shifts, makes a noise in the back of his throat he can’t stop from spilling out. The side of London’s mouth twitches, before he nods vigorously at something the waiter just said. London twists his ankle, rolls his foot across Sebastian’s quickly hardening cock, digging his toes into the tight denim.
Sebastian has to concentrate on not being obvious. This jealousy thing is definitely new to him and the fact that London is now coupling it with an erection in a public place probably spells disaster for their future outings. He wraps his fingers around London's ankle, feeling his soft skin after sliding his fingers underneath his trousers. He’s not pulling him off, the touch more warning than anything.
London just grins, directs it at the waiter though and slides his foot forward again.
“I’ll have the calamari salad, then. That sounds delicious.”
“Very good, sir,” says their waiter, turning to Sebastian now. “And what will it be for you, sir?”
It’s sort of rude how Sebastian doesn’t look away from London, trying to figure out what he’s playing at as he digs his toes in one at a time.
“I’m having what he’s having.” He squeezes London's ankle, making London grin wider.
“You look bothered,” London says when they’re alone.
“What are you doing?”
London drags his foot up Sebastian’s length again before pulling his leg out of Sebastian’s grasp and settling his foot on the ground. “Ordering food.”
“You shouldn’t tease people.”
“Oh?” London says on a laugh. “You sure know a lot about that.”
Sebastian has long legs and he uses them to swipe out under the table, drawing London's leg back in. Next thing, he grabs London's ankle softly again, his thumb rubbing over the fine bones there.
“If I recall correctly,” Sebastian murmurs, both hands stroking up London's leg now. “I didn’t leave you wanting.”
“Oh is that what this is about? We’re keeping score now?”
Sebastian just looks at him, hands still gentling over his leg, the silence stretches almost to the breaking point. “How old were you for your first job?”
It’s London’s turn to stare. For a moment, he’s sure London will refuse to answer. Instead of coaxing, he just keeps up gently stroking his thumb over his soft skin.
“Solo mission?” London asks eventually.
“Yeah.”
“Thirteen.”
“Oh shit – I mean, wow. That’s young.”
“It’s different,” London says with a shrug. “We aren’t supposed to be seen. When you grift, all the focus is literally on you, that’s the whole con. Tough to con someone when you’re thirteen.”
Sebastian nods, thinking back to something he was taught a long time ago. “No one watches you put the rabbit in the hat when you’ve got their attention somewhere else.”
“Exactly. You’re meant to distract in plain sight.”
Sebastian grips London's calf with both hands and pulls him closer, chair and all. He leans over the table to whisper, “Am I distracting you?”
London doesn’t answer that one, deflects instead. “How long have you stayed here? At this hotel I mean?”
Sebastian rolls with it, even if London’s distance is bothering him. “Since the beginning.”
“Six weeks?”
He nods and they fall silent, looking at each other intently. He wonders if London is always like this, intense yet slightly distant. Maybe he’s just had bad experiences with grifters and that’s why he’s making it so hard for Sebastian to get close. He’s not opposed to it, that much is clear, but there’s a reluctance that he wants to poke at, get to the bottom of.
“I’ve already made my decision, you know that. About us, I mean,” London says, again with this weird bluntness that has its own charm. “So what exactly are we doing here?”
“Eating,” he says easily, watching the waiter make his way across the rooftop sitting area with their plates in hand. “And getting to know each other. Isn’t that what it’s all about?”
Their food is served and they eat with a level of distractedness it really doesn’t deserve. Sebastian has placed London’s foot between his thighs again, sole curving gently over his bulge. Every time London wants to pull it back down, he makes this whiny sound at the back of his throat, fingers encircling almost all the way around his ankle. And each time London leaves it there, frowning like he isn’t at all sure why.
Sebastian can’t help it, he’s curious. He wants to ask so many questions, wants to know what exactly makes London such a big name, why he’s supposedly the best. He’s studied several of his heists out of professional curiosity but the finer details are, if present at all, mostly vague. He wants to know why London got into this and why he’s stayed this long. He wants to know if today was a close call for him or just business as usual. Why he doesn’t make more
use of his fame, why it’s so goddam hard to even find a picture of him anywhere. He’s a legend and yet he behaves like a ghost and Sebastian needs to know why.
“Where do you live? When you’re not on the job, I mean.”
“London,” London says. He’s looking at him askance and Sebastian hasn’t felt this young in years.
“Is it weird, being named after the city you live in?”
London lays his fork down on the plate and gives it a tiny push.
“It’s the city my mother moved to when she was really young and pregnant with me. She saw it as her big chance, her new life. Enough that she decided to name me after it.” He pauses, his gaze travelling up to the rooftop. “How can I dislike it, when she had all her hopes set on it?”
He sounds further away than he had before, and that was definitely not Sebastian’s at all, quite the opposite. He tries to backtrack instead, to inflect his voice with a cheery note. “Does she still live there?”
“No.”
There’s finality in the word, and Sebastian doesn’t push after that. His parents could have been around more than his nanny, but at least he’d always been sure of their love even if it ended with him being spoiled rotten as a way for them to buy themselves a clean conscience. After his teens, his most rebellious years by far, he’d made his peace with it, and now he visits them regularly, making sure to schedule his departure to whenever they come around to talking about his responsibilities.
They fall quiet for a while, neither desperate to fill the silence until he places some money on the table and rises.
“Come on.” He holds out his hand to London. For a moment, they stare, sizing each other up. The darkness in London’s eyes can’t be attributed to the time of night and Sebastian regrets nosing into his past.
But London gets up, taking his hand. He’s the one that drags Sebastian past the empty tables, who nods at the waiter and lets him know they’ve left the money on the table. They make it to the lift without meeting anyone. The moment the doors close, London jumps into Sebastian’s arms, his legs wrapping themselves around his hips. Sebastian’s hands grip under his thighs while London pulls himself closer with his arms around Sebastian’s neck.
“Enough talking,” London says roughly. Sebastian just nods.
Their lips are already setting a bruising rhythm by the time Sebastian presses him back against the wall. Still, the ride is far too short and the doors ding open in no time. Neither moves besides pulling the other closer. When the doors close again Sebastian rests his forehead against London’s, slides his hands over his bum and up his sides, distractedly chewing on his bottom lip.
London runs his thumb over it, watches it pop free from between Sebastian’s teeth. He presses down on it instead.
“You have a gorgeous mouth,” he whispers, like it’s some sort of secret, like Sebastian doesn’t use that very fact to his advantage regularly. It’s different this time; it’s something he hadn’t even been considering while holding London up, while getting lost in their kiss.
And that’s new for him, and he’s thankful when the next sentence comes to him like muscle memory, familiar and comforting.
“Yeah? You thinking of anything specific?”
London sighs, not out of irritation, but like it’s something that’s truly been on his mind. “Many, many things.”
He grins and kisses London softly. “Like what?”
London wraps his hand in the back of Sebastian’s hair, tightly wrapping the shorter strands around his fingers. Then, he pulls.
Sebastian’s neck arches, his eyes slipping to half-mast as he tries to hold in a moan. His lips part and it escapes him anyway, and London just holds him and stares. He leans in until their lips touch, like he wants Sebastian to feel the words as much as hear them. “Want you to suck me.”
“Yeah.” Sebastian swallows hard, miraculously pressing them tighter together still. “I want that, too.”
London squirms, pushes against Sebastian’s chest until he has to set him down. He hits their floor button and once again, drags Sebastian behind him, doesn’t stop until they’re at his door. He fumbles and nearly drops his room key, his hands shaky in anticipation.
The moment they’re locked inside, London lets go, crouches down to retrieve Sebastian’s mask. Before he can even right himself properly, Sebastian grabs his hips, pushes his front against the wall as he grinds into him. London gasps, immediately rotating his hips backwards and chuckling at the way Sebastian’s breath comes out a broken mess.
“Get naked,” London says while squirming away again and he feels rushed to comply, even though they shouldn’t have to. They have all the time in the world now.
London watches him undress, but he’s too hurried to truly appreciate it. Instead there’s London’s gaze as it burns a line down his torso, causing the hairs on his arms to stand on end. He pushes down his trousers and pants, steps out of them to leave him completely naked.
He stands proud, watching London’s gaze drop lower.
“Fuck.” He steps closer, wrapping his fingers around Sebastian’s cock. “Now I want to suck you.” He looks up at Sebastian, his pupils blown. “See if I can manage it all.”
And fuck was right, because he wants to see London try too, wants him on his knees, mouth stretched wide and –
London twists his wrist and electricity shoots up Sebastian’s spine.
“London,” Sebastian whines, pawing at London's jumper and getting absolutely nowhere. “London, come on.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles, pressing Sebastian’s mask into his hands and pulling his sweater over his head. Sebastian drops the mask immediately and steps closer, hands roaming over London's chest, soft skin stretched over subtle muscle. He brings his hand lower, feeling frantic, trying to shove it down the front of London’s pants, which are clearly too tight for such an endeavor.
London shakes his head laughing, his voice far more steady than he has any right to.
“No, love. I gave you that mask to put on.”
Sebastian blinks at him; hands clasped before his chest after London bats them away.
“Go on then,” he says after stepping out of his clothes. Sebastian feels lost, takes a step towards him and London laughs again, sidesteps and swipes the mask off the floor.
Harsh breaths fill the air when London gently ties the mask to Sebastian’s face, mindful to not have his hair caught in anything. “You okay?”
Sebastian nods immediately but isn’t sure if that’s true at all. He feels like he’s spiralling, like he has no control of the situation. While that’s not a state he minds all that much, he hasn’t felt it in a long time, and that fact amplifies everything, it has him gasping in desperate breaths while every touch to his skin feels like an electric shock.
“London,” he says, desperately, his hands reaching out. But London dances out of reach, stands in the middle of the decadently furnished sitting room of Sebastian’s expensive hotel suite and plants his feet securely.
“Still want to suck me?”
There’s no answer because Sebastian is too busy falling to his knees in front of him. The mask feels alien on his skin, especially with being otherwise completely naked. But he loves it, revels in the feeling; he doesn’t even try to hide the wild look he knows is in his eyes. Instead he wraps his lips around the head of London’s cock and closes his eyes at the bitter-salty taste invading his senses. He loves this, the feel of London’s hard cock on his tongue, the way he’s already gasping just from his lips.
“You look like a dream.”
His eyes flash open and he tightens his lips, taking him deeper while holding London’s gaze. He can see the mask in his peripheral vision; he has an idea of how he must look. Kneeling naked on the plush carpet, hair loose and the mask accentuating his eyes and cheekbones, his mouth.
“So gorgeous,” London gasps as he drags his thumb over his lips and along the seam where they’re stretched around his cock. Sebastian hums in contentment, pride s
preading through him at the knowledge of how much pleasure London derives just from the way he looks.
His hands in Sebastian’s hair are gentle but guiding and Sebastian moans and complies, closing his eyes for a moment when he takes him deep before trapping London in his gaze again, needing it almost as much as the hitches in his breathing and the wonder in his eyes. He feels overwhelmed by it all, in the best possible way, by London’s hands, his eyes, the entire fucking night. Fingertips drag over his cheek, just under the edge of the mask while he pushes forward enough for London's cock to hit the back of his throat. He doesn’t take him deeper, pulling back each time.
“Ever had someone fuck your throat?”
Sebastian moans around him, eyes pressing shut. Loud gasps fill the quiet room when he pulls back, rubs his hands up and down his thighs. He’s making those noises, because he’s both incredibly turned and also saddened by the fact that he can’t, never could.
“No.” he rasps looking down.
He doesn’t even know where the feeling comes from, only that he wants to give this to London, wants to give him anything he asks because he’s making him feel like this; tingly and electric. He’s already giving him all he’s dreamed of and they haven’t even started yet.
“That’s okay,” London tells him, tracing his mouth again. “I can show you, if you want.”
Sebastian’s reaction is immediate, his large hand wrapping around his hard cock, groaning deeply as he gives himself several rough pulls, his gaze desperate from beneath the mask.
“Come on,” London says urgently, pulling Sebastian to his feet and dragging him to the bedroom. “Don’t want you to come yet.”
“Why not?” He feels drugged; limbs slow but every nerve end firing. He stumbles in London’s wake, eager to see what he’ll offer next.
London just shoves him onto the bed and goes to rummage through the bedside drawer, finds only lube there.
“Where’re your condoms?”
He shifts, palms himself again. “Bathroom.”
London swats his hand away.
“None of that,” he says while he goes to retrieve them, leaving him panting and desperate.