Taking care of Business.

By Alia

Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made.

Summary: Al goes back for more.

Rating: NC17.

Thanks: To PJ for betaing.

Author's notes: This story is the sequel to "Looking for love" It should also be noted that where "Looking for Love" had no sex, this one gives a far grittier view of Al's search for love in Sam's absence. Australian spelling.

Comments: Are welcome and can be sent to aliajones1999@yahoo.com

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As per our agreement I follow my target down the narrow passageway, alternating my gaze between the trash strewn along the way, and admiring the denim clad rear that throughout our short journey has only been a step or two in front of me.

A caged fluorescent globe flickers at the end of the hall, and we stop at the door beneath it. He, the boy, absently waves away the moths and other flying insects attracted by the solitary light source and a key is produced, but it is not fast enough for me. I feel very uncomfortable about standing around in a strange building, which under normal circumstances I wouldn't be caught dead in with someone, who although we have met before, is still very much a stranger to me.

I glance back the way we've come while he keys the lock, just scanning the general vicinity for anyone who might have been following us and then look back again as he finally pushes the door open. He waves me through and I step across the threshold, glad to be inside. He seems pretty happy to see me again, but I guess he's seen enough of life to know a sure thing when it comes along so I return his smile, pleased that at least one of us is happy about this.

Even without the interior light, I know this is the same room we used before. It's small and barely habitable by my estimation. Still, I don't have to stay here and I'm not about to start telling anyone, how or where they should be living their life. I got my own problems. Issues, Beeks calls them. Yeah, right. That explains everything. It says squat if you ask me, but then again, no one, with perhaps the exception of Beeks has asked me what it's like to see the man you love everyday and not have him remember what we were to one another. To see, but not be able to touch. It does things to a man, I'll tell you that much. What exactly? Well, I'm back here again, so I guess that means I'm in need of a little trip down memory lane.

I know it's not the same. Sam and I never spent anytime in a place like this. It's out of the weather though and away from anyone who could see, or identify me, and that's all I'm interested in - that and the fact that this kid knows exactly what I want and I don't have to keep explaining myself.

The light is turned on and I wander a little further into the room, trying to make myself relax. Itís better this way, I remind myself as I look around, easier to keep up the facade that I am dealing with my life without Sam - without my lover, if I can take a little time out once in a while. There are no strings here. Everyone gets what they want, and no one gets hurt. If everything goes to plan I can be in and out in under an hour, add another hour to get back to the Project and no one is any the wiser. Sam gets an attentive observer and I get some relief, albeit temporary, from the constant loneliness I feel in his absence.

I hear the door close behind me, and my stomach churns. I wish Iíd taken the time to eat something after I left Sam but itís a little late to do anything about it now so I make a final attempt to shake off the images of his trusting face and turn around.

Reaching for my wallet I pull out the agreed amount and hold it out to the kid as he comes toward me. He puts on his usual act, running one hand over his chest and taking a firm hold on the bulge in the front of his jeans with the other, stroking it for all heís worth as he moves. It's pretty difficult to ignore. My dick sure as hell is paying attention but as I want to get things under way as soon as possible I do my best to keep my eyes fixed on his.

I know that if Sam doesn't remember us then what I am doing here couldnít technically be considered cheating on him. I am just taking care of business after all. Itís what I get paid for, whatís expected of me, but I know from experience that giving myself too much time to really think about it isnít helpful either. I just need to do it, and get it over with.

The routine is pretty much the same wherever, or whoever you go to, and as the kid obviously knows the score I just do what I did last time I was here, and wait while he counts the notes I give him. He nods and pockets the money as soon as he's happy it's what we agreed on, and I take my cue to start getting undressed.

Okay, so this part is far from easy.

Taking a deep, and what I hope will be a liberating breath I turn away again. Slipping out of my jacket first, I drop the non-descript garment on the small chest by the bed and then start on the buttons on my shirt. My hands falter and I curse the fact that they do. I know I should be able to do this and not act like an old fool, but that pretty much sums up how I feel. Iíve got no delusions about myself. Shit, Iím almost seventy years old and I ainít getting any younger.

I finish with my shirt, and manage the rest of my clothes with the minimum of fuss. The kid disappears while I undress but reappears just as I am leaning down to deposit my socks inside my already discarded shoes, startling me more than I am willing to admit to him, or maybe even myself. Itís just that he is completely naked now and his cut cock bobs just a few inches away from my face when I sit back up again. For a moment I just stare, completely mesmerized by the colour, girth and length of the already hardened flesh that is so close to my lips that I can almost taste the translucent tear weeping from itís tip. It's been a while, five long years, and my mouth waters from the memory.

"You wanna start with that?" he asks, reaching down to stroke himself with one hand and my thinning hair with the other.

It is the first time anyone has touched me in weeks, though with everything else that is going on the fact that it is doesnít register straight away.

I havenít taken my eyes off the show in front of me but I can hear the smirk in his voice as clearly as if I could see it. It makes me feel like a dirty old man and you guessed it, the blood from my dick slowly rises to my face.

No matter how foolish I feel there is no point denying itís what I want, why Iím here and nodding my head just confirms what we both already know.

"Thought so."

The hand on my head is withdrawn and he steps away, giving his cock a final stroke before he lets it go also. The underlying smirk in his voice is still there, not that I expected it to just go away but it sounds less accusing now, more understanding, and as he moves out of view I take a deep breath, reminding myself that this is nothing more than a business transaction to him, and teasing is a big part of what he does.

He disappears again. This time to retrieve a sheet of condoms and a tube of lube which, he tosses on the bed beside me when he returns.

"Names David," he announces. "But." He adds, slipping in to stand between my knees, " I can be whoever you like."

My dick twitches at the possibilities, and despite my guilt starts to pay attention again as his leg slides along the inside of my own and comes to rest inches from my groin. I donít remember him telling me his name the last time I was here though and when my brain kicks back into gear again I start feeling a little suspicious that he is now.

I ease myself back on the bed and look up. Heís fucking amazing. Tall, lean, cut. Just like... No, I donít want to compare him to Sam - there is no contest. Even though Sam doesnít remember us, he is still my lover. The only one I want. This kidís just a means to an end.

Maybe Beeks is right and my trust issues are making me paranoid, or maybe the kidís just trying to be friendly, either way if he thinks that giving me his name is going to make me give him mine he is going to be very disappointed.

"David is fine." I assure him, trying to sound casual and like I donít have anything to hide.

Itís a fucking lie of course, but it seems to have the desired effect because he steps back again and smiles down at me. I never noticed it before, or maybe I did and I just didnít want to admit to all the reasons why I chose him over the others - why I came looking for him again tonight. Heís got green eyes, eyes that still light up when he smiles in spite of all he must have seen in his life.

He, David, looks away after a moment, his smile fading into something less friendly, less recognizable as his eyes travel down my body to where my hard on is demanding attention between my splayed legs. He licks his lips and my dick throbs painfully.

Okay, so it is definitely time to get this show on the road.

I sit up and tear a couple of condoms from the sheet. I sheath myself first and roll another on to the cock he thrusts into my face and then, without any more invitation than that, I take him in my mouth.

Reviving doesnít quite describe how it feels, or what the combination of male musk and the strong hands he uses to hold my head in place while I suck him do to me. I close my eyes and think about Sam. Iíve always tried not to in the past but itís pointless to pretend that itís not him Iím thinking about every minute of every day. Itís his hands I want to be holding me now, his cock I want in my mouth and no amount of denying it will change it.

Iím just taking care of business I tell myself, doing what I need to get by. Doing what I have to until he comes home.

The end.

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