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How Are We Going To Pay This Month's Rent?

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Sean's short on rent again. It happens. There are dry spells, times when he doesn't do as well at the bars as he normally does, times when a trick takes a swing at him rather than just paying for the blowjob. He's been ripped off more than once. It's not an easy job, but it's better than being in school or getting stuck in a forty-hour-a-week job.

The good news is, his landlord's pretty easygoing about rent. It's odd thinking of Jason as his landlord, but he's the one with his name on the lease, and he could pay rent by himself if he wanted to. Sean thinks sometimes that Jason advertised for roommates because he wanted people nearby to fuck if the mood took him--that explains how he and Christian got the rooms.

It's early evening and Sean really ought to be getting out of here, but the rent's due tomorrow and he knows he isn't going to have it. He wanders down the hall to Jason's room and knocks at the door, even though it's open. Jason's at his desk, in front of his laptop, clearly staying in for the night--he's got a soft grey t-shirt and some loose pajama bottoms on, along with his glasses. He looks up at Sean's knock. "Heading out?"

Sean shakes his head. "No, I needed to talk to you first."

Jason half-turns, leans back in his chair. "All right." He looks Sean over; they've done this enough times, he knows what day it is. Sean's doing the debauched schoolboy look tonight; it generally brings in more expensive customers. Button-down shirt. Tie, a little loose. Black trousers. The relatively nice pair of wingtips he found at the thrift store. The belt's even shiny.

This is a look Jason likes on him. Sean's not above playing dirty.

"I'm short this month."

"How much?"

"I've got half."

"Mmm." Jason nods. "All right." He gets out of his chair and walks over, inclining his head to gesture Sean away from the door. The only one who could walk in is Christian, and it's not like Christian's never seen Jason taking rent out of Sean's ass--not like Christian's never bent over in exchange for rent himself--but usually Jason prefers a bit of privacy, and so Sean isn't surprised when Jason closes the door and locks it.

He backs Sean into the wall, and Sean spreads his legs a bit and puts his hands against the wall for good measure, down at his sides. Jason reaches out with one hand and pins Sean's hip against the wall, then trails the fingertips of his other hand over Sean's cheek. Sean closes his eyes. Fucking the landlord's not much of a hardship.

Jason brushes the backs of his fingers down Sean's cheek, then slides his fingertips across the front of Sean's throat. Sean tenses up, eyes sliding shut--the last thing he sees is Jason smiling at him.

Then Jason's got Sean's tie wrapped around his fist, and he's bending in close to kiss Sean hard. Sean groans out loud, and Jason backs off.

"No," he murmurs. "Quiet."

Sean blinks his eyes open and looks at Jason. Jason takes his hand off Sean's hip long enough to put a finger to his lips, a finger that he then rests against Sean's. "Quiet," he repeats. He rubs his fingertip against Sean's lower lip, and Sean licks at it; Jason slips his fingertip into Sean's mouth so Sean can suck on it.

Jason takes his hand away and grips Sean's chin, turning his face to the side. He closes the space between them again, thighs against Sean's thighs, the hand that doesn't have a grip on Sean's tie moving down to grab Sean's wrist. He presses his mouth against Sean's ear, licking around the curve of it.

"Be honest," Jason breathes. "You've got the rent. You just want me to fuck you."

Sean shakes his head slightly, but Jason asked for quiet, and Sean knows he means it. Jason rubs his hips against Sean's, and Sean jerks, but he's pinned. Jason breathes out hot against Sean's ear, which makes Sean shiver. Another rub-press, hips to hips, cock against cock, and Sean knows Jason can feel his hard-on. He can feel Jason's, too, angled down against Jason's left thigh. It amazes Sean that Jason never seems to have boyfriends; it seems as though he's always ready to fuck, loves to fuck. But for all he and Christian can tell, he doesn't fuck anyone but them. Maybe he just can't be bothered to date, and he doesn't care to pay. Sean's run into people with stranger tendencies.

"You're dying for it. I can tell," Jason murmurs. "You're such a good little whore. You don't do it for the money, you do it because you love being used." He gives Sean's necktie another twist. It'll be wrinkled when Jason's done, but that shouldn't hurt Sean's chances tonight. "Who do you know that uses you like I do? Hmm? You could come to me if you need it, you know. Crawl down the hall to me and kneel at my feet. Beg me. Don't think I wouldn't take you up on it."

"I kn--"

"Shhh." Jason nudges Sean's chin with his nose, turning Sean back to face him, and he bites at Sean's lower lip. Not too hard. "I told you to be quiet."

Sean nods, and Jason lets his necktie go. Sean swallows a couple of times, takes a few full breaths. Jason switches his grip so he's got both of Sean's wrists in his hands, then draws them up over Sean's head and pins them there, crossed over so he can keep them pinned with one hand. The other hand unbuckles Sean's belt and unfastens his fly, and he reaches in, cupping Sean's balls in his hand and rolling them a bit. Sean gasps, head slamming back against the wall, but he doesn't make a sound. Jason looks up at him and smiles. "Good slut," he murmurs. Sean swallows again; it never much bothers him what his tricks say, but with Jason, he finds himself wanting to blush or look away or at the damned least keep his eyes closed.

Jason grips Sean's cock, quick and tight enough to make Sean gasp, and Jason growls as he kisses Sean, tongue fucking hard into Sean's mouth. Sean can't do anything but take it, wrists pinned, cock jerking in Jason's hand, tongue sliding against Jason's as if he's trying to beg in a brand-new language. He rocks his hips up against the rhythm of Jason's strokes, and Jason tightens his grip in response. It's tight enough it almost hurts now--the friction isn't helping--but Jason's also hard as steel against Sean's thigh, so he can't hold back much longer, Sean thinks.

And he's right. Jason backs away a little, panting as his mouth leaves Sean's. He takes his hand out of Sean's trousers and finally steps back, looking Sean over.

"Get undressed," he snaps. Sean's fast with his buttons, gets out of his clothes quick enough to leave his hair rumpled from pulling his tie over his head and his clothes in a messy pile beside him. When he's naked, Jason grabs him by the arm and pushes him over to the bed, pulling back the blankets before pushing Sean down on his forearms.

He doesn't say anything else; Sean hears the drawer open, hears the soft latex snap of the condom and the rattle through the drawer's contents as Jason finds the lube. In another instant, Jason's on him, cock pressing in already--the lube's on Jason, not Sean, and it hurts to take it that way, but he can do it, Jason knows it--and Sean clenches his hands into fists so he won't make a sound. Jason pulls out and kicks Sean's feet apart wider, and then he's back, driving in hard, both hands on Sean's hips as he fucks him with fast, sloppy thrusts.

Sean knows better than to shift his position, knows better than to put a hand on his cock so he can come, too. Jason doesn't want anything to change at times like this; he'd be pissed off if Sean broke his concentration. What he's concentrating on, Sean doesn't know. Maybe he spends the time pretending he's with someone else. Maybe he's imagining this as an anonymous fuck somewhere. Maybe he's thinking of Sean as his, the body he can use whenever he goddamn well pleases. That's not too far from the truth.

Sean's got enough practice at this to know when Jason's getting close. Jason's panting becomes audible, and his fingertips get tight, tight enough to leave tiny pinpoint bruises on Sean's hips. He drives in once, twice, again, and then he shoves in hard and solid and Sean can feel his cock pulsing with the streaks of come he'd never spill inside Sean, never without a condom. He's much too careful for that.

He pulls out, finished, and Sean grunts at the pain--Jason always pulls out too fucking fast--but that gets him something he wasn't expecting, Jason's hand in his hair, flattening him onto the bed.

"You can't even follow a simple fucking instruction," Jason growls, his other hand between them, three fingers working fast and rough into Sean's ass. "All I asked for was quiet. And you can't even do that. Can you do anything? Can you take my fingers after you've been fucked and opened up for me? Or are you such a tight little slut you can't even take that much?"

Three fingers is easy after he's been fucked, but it isn't where Jason stops. He presses in a fourth, four is fine, but when he doesn't stop there, either--he goes past where his fingers are all folded on top of each other and starts pushing the front of his hand in--Sean buries his face in the bed and tries not to yell. There isn't anywhere near enough lube to get fisted with, nowhere close, but he can never tell what Jason's going to do, and right now Jason's pressing his hand in hard and angry and relentless.

He yanks at Sean's hair to get his face off the bed. "Bitch," Jason spits. "You'd like my hand, wouldn't you? You need more than just cock to fill that greedy little hole of yours. You'd love it if I got my arm into you, up to the elbow, up past the elbow. You'd come like a fucking firehose. Admit it, bitch. That's what you want, isn't it? Every last fucking inch you can get up your ass?"

Oh, there's no right answer to that. Sean can't speak, can't move his head to shake it or nod, can't go anywhere. Jason drops his head--thank God they're on the bed and not the desk, because he drops it hard--and fumbles over at the nightstand for more lube. It pours over Sean's ass, wet and messy and slick, and Jason rocks his hand in deeper. Every half an inch feels like a mile. Sean can feel where Jason's tucked his thumb in against his palm. He's trying not to panic, not to fight, but his thighs are burning and he's not ready, just not ready.

"You can stop this any time," Jason whispers. "Just come. I'll stop when you come. When you prove you're just a slut who needs to be filled with whatever you can get. Prove it for me. Come on. Come, bitch."

He means it. Sean knows that much. Jason never makes promises he doesn't mean, even in the heat of sex, even when he sounds angry and out-of-control. Sean doesn't know if he's going to be able to come before Jason gets his hand inside him--Christ if it isn't going to be close--but he breathes hard into the mattress and focuses on his cock, thinks about how much he does want to come. About how he knew this kind of roughness was going to happen, how Jason's never easy on him, about the first time Jason fucked him--before he and Christian even moved in--and how fast Jason figured out that Sean likes being choked. It was his cock first, it's almost always someone's cock first, but then the next time it was Sean over the kitchen table, wrists tied behind his back, Jason's hand on Sean's throat as he fucked him and called him a slut for danger, a slut who was going to get himself hurt someday, a slut Jason wanted to hurt.

That first time, Sean came screaming, and this time he comes in silence, breath held, shaking all over, cock jerking again and again as he makes a stained, sticky mess all over Jason's bed.

When it's over, Jason works his hand out of Sean's ass and bends over to drop a light kiss on the back of Sean's neck. He grabs a towel from the nightstand and cleans his hand off first, then Sean, and he keeps a hand on the small of Sean's back while Sean catches his breath. When Sean straightens his arms and stretches, Jason backs off and collects his clothes, pulling his pajama bottoms and t-shirt back on. He takes his glasses off and cleans them on his shirt, then looks at Sean, as if nothing just happened.

"Still going out tonight?" he asks.

Sean nods as he gets himself back into his clothes. "Might as well," he says softly. Jason's back at his desk, clicking himself back into Wikipedia. "Don't want to get behind on next month's rent, too."

"I wouldn't worry about it if you are," Jason murmurs.

Sean swallows again, swallows hard, and nods--he figures Jason's watching out of the corner of his eye, he'll see it--and says a quick, "Thanks," before ducking out of Jason's room and heading back down the hall.