Author's Note: This started as a straight up smut one shot. If that's all you want, stop reading at the end of chapter one. However, I had several requests to continue the story, so I have decided to do so. Smut will come back, but the boys need a few chapters to work some stuff out.

I have plans to put up several chapters and get them to an HFN (or else-it's not really a romance, yeah?) and from there I may add slices of life and one shots as I have time between other projects that need getting done. I think these boys have some pretty great stories to tell.

Show me you're enjoying it with comments, favs, and follows, and I'll be more likely to remember to keep working on this. No, not trying to bribe you, but I get emails when I get stuff, and that reminds me to keep working on it. XD

Chapter One:

I don't know what the fuck I was doing. I agreed to go to Crave with Amanda, because it was her birthday, she was shitfaced, and she had the best pouty face I've ever seen. I swear if she turned it on you, you'd be willing to castrate yourself with a sharp toothpick if only she'd stop looking at you like that. Manda announced that watching the guys dance together made her hot, made her wet, and okay, maybe I was hoping that taking her there might lead to something more than being 'just friends.' But not long after we got there, she ended up a little too drunk and I put her in a cab and sent her home.

Yes, I should have gone with her. Made sure she made it home okay. But she wasn't that bad off. I knew she'd get home fine and I called her roommate to let her know she was on her way. I should have caught my own cab, I suppose. Probably would have, too. If I hadn't seen him.

I can't tell you what it was about him, but I made my way back into the popular gay club as if pulled by some magnetic force. I had spent the entire hour Manda and I were there trying to give her the attention she deserved, but my eyes had been drawn repeatedly to this man. I found a seat with a good view of the dance floor and continued shamelessly watching him. He danced as if he had been born to make the rest of us look like clumsy idiots. He was all fluid grace and startling beauty as his body flowed with the music, just oozing sex. His cheekbones belonged on a roman coin, his physique the textbook of a swimmers build; broad shoulders perfect for holding onto, long, muscled torso tapering to a narrow waist. Even with the descriptions bouncing around in my head I knew I sounded like a fucking poet, but it was nothing but truth. His smooth, muscled chest was bare, the corner of his shirt tucked into his back pocket, swaying with his movements. His hair was short, black, silky looking, the cut expensive and flattering, of course. And just the right length for tangling my hands in as I pushed his head down to my cock. And where the hell had that thought come from?

I wasn't a bad looking guy myself. Spent loads of time at the gym. What else to do with all that extra time outside of work? I had a good job, good clothes. I'd been blessed with eyelashes so dark and thick that I'd been accused of wearing mascara before, and that did a lot to bring some pop to otherwise bland hazel eyes. Kept my hair short on the sides, a little longer on top. Knew I looked good enough to never have a problem picking up a chick when I needed one, but aside from one cute little chubby imp of a thing whom I'd fallen for several years ago after one witty conversation, and who broke my heart (and maybe my pride) when she left me for someone else, none of them ever lasted more than a week or two. But this man. Just sex on a stick. Pure. Fucking. Sex.

Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with me? I scrubbed my hand through my hair and down my face, hardly noticing when another drink was set in front of me to replace the empty. I was straight as a ruler, but there I was imagining what it would feel like to take this beautiful creature that bumped and thumped and gyrated with a cheerful abandon in front of me and shove my cock up his hot ass.

I adjusted myself as I watched him. His gaze met mine several times throughout the evening, though I tried hard not to look too interested. I wasn't. Interested, I mean. I'm straight for fuck's sake, I kept telling myself. I to watch beautiful dancing.



Closing time rolled around, and I paid my tab, vaguely surprised when I had to squint one eye closed to make the numbers stop swimming on the receipt as I wrote in a random number for the tip before getting up to leave. The room lurched around me as I stood, shifting suddenly sideways. I was about to hit the floor when a pair of strong arms caught me, lifting me up and holding me in place as the world around me settled into some semblance of normality. I clutched desperately at sweat slicked, bare skin as I tried to make sense of my suddenly spinning world. A deep, velvet voice chuckled in my ear, his cheek sliding against mine, our stubble rasping. "Easy there. Let's find a cab and get you home, shall we?" My breathing picked up and my heart raced. Because I had almost fallen on the floor. Sure. I shivered for some reason as he spoke, his voice just travelling through my body, hitting every nerve ending with the fizzle and pop of a good champagne. Taking a closer look at my rescuer, I realized that he was the one I'd been unable to keep my eyes off of. Swaying against him, putting my hand on that broad chest, I convinced myself I was just trying to maintain my balance. Didn't want to feel the springy, soft hairs under my hand. Nope. Not at all. And his smell. Holy fuck. Like the woods and summer and darkness and sinful things, all wrapped up together. My cock certainly liked it; stood up and begged for attention.

"Where do you live?" He asked in that sinful voice as he guided me to one of the cabs in the line. When had we gotten outside?

"Uh, I..." I trailed off, confused. Couldn't figure out what I needed to say. The world was still spinning like a carnival ride. I'm not sure how I'd lost track of how much I was drinking, but I was well past drunk and heavily into hammered territory. Thinking was difficult. "I..." I tried again.

"Yes?" Mr. Tall, dark, and smells good said, a friendly smile on that wicked mouth. Fuckable, suckable mouth. I blinked. Where were these thoughts coming from?

"Yer place?" I slurred out. Wait. What? No, not what I meant! Not at all! But he was already grinning, half dragging me out to a waiting cab, giving me no chance to change my mind. I didn't want this! I wasn't into men. Not at all. But those big hands settled around my hips, guiding me into the back seat easily despite the jerky little motions my confused brain was sending down my limbs, and when he sat beside me, his scent and closeness went straight to my cock, knocking my shaky train of thought off track. Over the rails. Plunging into the river.

What was it about this man? I couldn't focus as he gave the cab driver directions. Instead, I split my attention between the rapidly tilting front seat that contained a, two, just one. I closed one eye. Ah, only one. The other half of my attention firmly on Mr. Dancer. I tried to school my tongue. Will it to shrink to normal size and do what I told it to. I had something very important to ask him, and it was imperative I not come off drunk. He would never notice, if I hid it well enough. "Whuz yer name?" I asked, proud of myself. Perfect diction.

He smiled at me, more perfect, straight white teeth than any man should be allowed. "Sebastien." he answered, simply. "Yours?"

I tried it out once, and then again, but for some reason my lips and tongue were being stubborn, and I couldn't quite manage to say his name back to him. Instead, I just gave him a happy smile, showing him how much I appreciated his honest answer. "I'm Jash...Jay...Jason." Only three tries to give him my name. Surely that wasn't too bad?

A short cab ride later, we pulled up at a neat little building. I couldn't quite manage got out of the car, so Mr. Name I couldn't manage paid the cabby, and reached in to help me out. Damn curbs, so far down. I appreciated his help finding the right curb. The extra one that was swirling around was quite annoying. Somehow I managed to go from curb to a bedroom. I'm not sure what happened during the in between, but I was positive that Mr. Name managed some kind of weird magic, as I didn't remember anything between stepping out of the car and crashing down on a soft and comfortable bed.

I really would have been quite happy to just go to sleep, but something was happening that made it impossible to rest. It took me a few moments to realize what it was; someone was undressing me. Kissing a slow trail over exposed skin. Fuck. Felt so good. Slowly the sensations started to overtake the spinning room, and I found myself fisting my hands in soft, silky hair. Just like I'd pictured doing at the bar. Big hands finished unbuttoning my shirt. Rough stubble rubbing against my belly as it was exposed, hot tongue licking a long, wet line along the edge of my jeans, making my stomach muscles bunch.

Holy shit, felt so good. Amazing. Vaguely, I felt as if something wasn't quite right, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it, and I just didn't care. Slowly my clothes were stripped off. That incredible dancer's body moving slowly and erotically against mine as he kept working to remove the clothing that made barriers between us, those rough hands touching and sliding over my skin as he did.

Wait. Was that beard stubble rubbing so roughly against my stomach? My body panicked as my clouded brain started to make the connections, but he was smart. Oh, Mr. Name I couldn't manage was so smart. When I opened my mouth to say no more, I found his long fingers in my mouth, and my lips closed around then automatically, sucking as he thrust them lightly in and out and stretched the other hand down to unsnap the top button of my jeans and push down the zipper. The fingers left my mouth as he jerked the pants down and then his mouth was wrapped around my cock, derailing any complaints that were trying make themselves known.

Lightening went through me. Pure. Fucking. Lightening. My back arched up and my hips thrust unintentionally, forcing my cock deeper into that warm velvet heat. I made a sound at the back of my throat and he echoed it as he moved, head bobbing over my shaft. He was naked now too, though I'd missed when he undressed. His cock slid along my leg as he thrust lightly, slicking a line of hot, wet precome against me. I knew something was wrong. I should be upset. This should bother me. But the alcohol still sparked through my system, and for now, it felt too damn good. Nothing wrong with taking a little pleasure, giving a little pleasure.

Once he sensed that I'd settled, he started taking his time, moving up and down my body, kissing, licking, sucking, setting me on fire everywhere he touched. I squirmed and gave up moans like a cheap whore as he sucked up red marks all the way from my mouth to my dick. All I could manage was to move and writhe under that talented mouth, under the big, rough hands that pinched at my nipples, glided over my skin, touching me everywhere. Fucking awesome. Every nerve ending on fire.

Finally he reached the place I needed him. And that fucker, he skipped right around it, kissing the insides of my shaking thighs. Tugging at the light fuzz of hair on my lower abdomen. Rubbing at that velvet, sensitive skin behind my balls. Never quite touching my cock. God dammit. He was torturing me. I needed friction. I needed... something. I fucking needed something more.

That evil, wonderful, hateful, lovely hand slid down the crack of my ass. Spreading some kind of liquid, cool slickness. I gasped as something circled my asshole. Jumped. Holy fuck. A jolt of pleasure ran through me at the unexpected touch. The few remaining brain cells in my head got together for a drunken attempt at yelling "No!" But I didn't even get my mouth open before his mouth closed over my dick again, tongue thrusting into my slit, and the protest disappeared into the swirly haze that had nothing at all to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the fact that he was attempting to suck my brains out through the tip of my cock. My hips pushed forward as he sucked me deep. Those fingers circling my asshole started moving in a steady in and out, in and out, just pushing against the barrier, never quite entering.

As I fucked his mouth, his fingers fucked my asshole. After a moment, I felt the breach of the first finger. One last time my booze addled brain tried to put up a fight, but the alcohol laden cells went fizzle, pop, and bang as Sebastien sucked a little harder, hollowing his cheeks over my dick and his fingers hit...fuck. Something. Something that sent little electric zings throughout my body, arched my back, made my feet scrabble at the sheets. I gasped and lost any interest in complaining about anything, instead thrusting down hard on those fingers, looking for more of that bizarre electric feeling, the slow burn as he slid in another finger just adding one more sensation to those already swirling through me.

Mr. Sex on a Stick himself gave a sensual, knowing chuckle that ran down my backbone, and slid through my dick, making me shudder and seek more. More friction, more contact, more electric tingles, just. More. God, I needed. So bad. "Gonna make you feel good, babe. Fuck that tight virgin ass, make you come so hard you see stars." He said softly, that wicked, deep voice a caress of its own.

He lifted off of me, going to his drawer for something. I saw him wipe his hand on a towel and tear open a little foil pack, and then he was back, sliding over my body, capturing my mouth in a kiss that made me fucking crazy. His tongue fucked my mouth hard and fast, in and out, in and out, giving the occasional little swirl, making my cock twitch and leak. Could you come just from kissing?

The spinning sensation from the alcohol was being swamped by the adrenaline and the sheer overload of sensations from the kissing, and the petting, and from those fingers once again moving in and out of my hole.

"Oh, Jesus, fuck, please, I need more" I managed to get out, breathlessly, nary a slur in sight. "Please." I groaned, thrusting my ass back at the man.

"Alright, babe, let me take care of you" he said with a sinful smile as he arranged me on my back, pushing my knees up to my chest and spreading my butt cheeks with his hands, presenting my hole for his pleasure. My brain made a sloppy, half hearted attempt at convincing me that something here was very wrong, but my body was having none of it, and I moaned and groaned and whimpered and babbled unintelligible words as he drizzled more lube across his cock and my asshole and the hard, thick, blunt, condom covered head of his cock pushed slowly, incessantly at my entrance. Pushing, spreading, widening until it popped past the tight ring of muscle. And oh, holy fucking god. It burned, so hard.

The pain, the burn, got all tangled up with the pleasure, confusing me as pure sensation flooded through my body. I tensed, everything going tight, arching, pushing at his shoulders, legs jerking, trying to resist the intrusion, but Sebastien just smiled that overconfident toothy grin again, holding me down with one big hand, twisting his torso about around to rub a finger from his free hand, oh so gently around my asshole where his dick was sunk inside of me, and slowly, slowly, the invasion began to hurt less. Sebastien rocked, pushing in a little further, gave a little shift and twist of his hips and hit that spot that made little licks of light dance across my vision, and I realized that this felt really. Fucking. Amazing. "There it is." His voice was tight, hoarse with tension. "Better now, just relax" It seemed as though the wavy haze of the alcohol burned off the rest of the way as he leaned into me, pushing, pushing, and I pushed right back, taking every inch of his thick cock.

When he was fully seated, his sac brushing the back of my ass, I was delighted to see that Mr. Calm, Cool and Collected was suddenly the one struggling. Perspiration broke out across his skin as his head went loose on his neck and he was panting, clearly working hard to hold still and give me a chance to adjust. The realization dawned that for the first time in this whole fucked up experience, I had the upper hand. Experimentally I squeezed my interior muscles a bit, enjoying the hell out of the jerk and soft cuss that drew out of him.

Using the little leverage I had, I started moving against him, using my hands to pinch at his nipples, explore the hardness of his body, watching his face go slack and his muscles tense. God. did I have that much control over him? His face reflected sheer pleasure as he started moving with me, bodies falling into that sinuous dance of give and take that was so primal, instinctual. He groaned as we moved together "I wanted to take this slow but you're driving me fucking crazy" he panted, words coming out between the little moans he was making in the back of his throat. Moans I was pulling from him. So fucking hot.

I kept up with the petting and touching, remembered the things he had done to make me crazy, doing them to him. Tugging at the light dusting of dark hair over his chest, pinching and pulling at his nipples, reaching up and fisting a hand in his hair, all while he continued that slow, rocking, in and out assault on my body. The head of his cock rubbing against that electric spot buried deep inside me every time he thrust forward, sending little flash fires of pleasure through me, making me gasp and arch against him.

Abandoning my exploration of his body, I reached down and grabbed at whatever I could reach of him, hips, lower back, shoulder, trying to get him to pick up his pace. "Harder. Faster." I panted. "Fuck. Fuck me. Please. Harder." Each word punctuated with a little groan.

"Dammit, Jason." I felt a thrill go through me as he spoke my name for the first time. Sounded so good coming from his lips. "You're making me crazy here." His hands grabbed at my legs, pulling them around until he had them up, over his shoulders, and he slid a pillow under my ass, tilting it up for a better angle. Glad I'm pretty damn flexible. And then he went. To fucking. Town. Pounding in and out, breath panting out in a harsh staccato as he moved so hard and so fast I couldn't do anything but hold on for dear life, hips slapping against my ass, his hands tightening hard on my knee and ankle that he held for balance. That familiar tingling burn started, rapidly making itself known at the base of my back and in my balls.

"Getting..." my breath hitched "Getting close." He made a deep noise in his throat, grabbing at my hips and changing his position just a bit, doing his best to pound me through the mattress. Whatever he'd done when he shifted us, every slide in and out now sent ripples of bliss through me, the burn turning into a fire as I trembled at the thin edge of ecstasy. Then that big hand wrapped around my cock and tugged, once, twice, and I went over the edge, stars sparkling across the back of my eyelids as I jerked and shuddered and sprayed rope after rope of come all over my chest and stomach, wave after wave crashing over me. He groaned, stiffened, and I could feel his dick pulsing inside of me as he filled his condom. I tried to open my eyes to watch his face, but no part of my body was under my control as the orgasm ripped through me.

Pushing my legs to the side, he collapsed onto me, making us both wet and sticky with my come and driving what little breath I had left from my lungs. "Gerroff" I managed to grunt under his bulk, pushing at him with trembling, uncoordinated limbs. He looked slimmer and less muscled than I was, but God, he was heavy.

He slumped to the side, holding the base of the condom and pulling out, drawing a final grunt from me as he lay next to me. "Fucking holy God damn hell." He breathed out.

Yeap. My sentiments exactly, I thought. Just before I passed out.