Archive of Our Own ^beta

Monty was meeting an informant, playing it out like they were chatting each other up at the bar. Lots of smiles, Monty even bought him a drink. Not that the fucker deserved it.

The bartender wasn't fooled, but he knew to keep his mouth shut. He didn't know exactly what Monty did, but he knew it was shady. When Monty told him to get the man whatever he wanted, there were no smiles, no chatting. The drink appeared, and the bartender moved on.

'The Haunt' (Monty had picked it since he was a Spook, he had to have Some fun) wasn't overly busy. Enough people that their meeting didn't stand out, not so many they couldn't have a private conversation.

Unfortunately, behind Monty's smiles were gritted teeth; he was not liking what he was hearing, not at all. He leaned over and spoke into the other man's ear, like he was sharing something intimate. In truth, he was threatening him, what Monty would do if he didn't get his ass in gear and get the goods.

He pulled away and concluded softly, "You know what I have on you," the man's eyes grew bigger and he glanced around, "Everyone else will too, unless you get me what I want."

Nodding, the informant jumped off his stool and beat a hasty retreat. Monty turned back to his drink, thoughts black.

He was glaring at the mirror behind the liquor bottles, when he caught sight of something that could definitely improve his mood. Another man, partway down the bar, looking just his type. Tall, well built, dark hair just made for pulling. Monty slid off his stool, making his way down the bar.

The man was sitting alone, and Monty couldn't understand why he didn't already have a crowd of competitors around him. He looked good, really good. More for him then.

Monty slid onto the stool next to him, setting his drink down noisily and facing his prey, "Hey there," he smirked.

Turning to face him, Monty got a smirk and a long up-and-down in return, "Hey there yourself." His voice was deep and went straight to Monty's cock. Not that he hoped to be hearing too much of it, but it was a nice touch.

Brushing his fingers down the man's suit sleeve, Monty smiled, "I'm Monty."

"Phillip," came the response, and Monty was glad to see that there was no last name, and no attempt at a handshake. No business, all pleasure.

"I need to unwind, did you want to give me a hand with that?"

Phillip's eyes widened, but he smiled broadly, "Sure, what can I do to help you out?"

Waving to the bartender again, Monty ordered them both refills, then told Phillip, "You can join me, the back corner is a little more private, and no one will disturb us there." It was true, the sitting area was roped off and the bartender absolutely never went back there, they had an unspoken agreement.

"Sure thing," Phillip said, knocking back his drink and picking up the refill, "I think we might even help each other out."

"Nothing I'd like more," Monty told him and led the way to the back corner, where there was sectional seating. On the way he probed just a little, trying to get a feel for Phillip. He didn't want his life's history, but he liked having the lay of the land. So to speak.

"Are you in town on business?" He asked, settling himself in the corner of the sectional.

"Am I that obvious?" Chuckled Phillip, sitting down closely enough their thighs rubbed together.

Monty shrugged, "I'm just really good at reading people."

"Well yeah, I'm in town to meet our manufacturer. Toys." He sipped his drink, never taking his eyes off Monty. Then he asked, "What about you?"

"I travel a lot for work. I come here so I don't have to think about it," then he crawled onto Phillip's lap and kissed him.

At first, Phillip stiffened in surprise, but he quickly let Monty take the lead. He was at least that smart.

Sliding his hands under his suit jacket, Monty simultaneously checked Phillip for firearms, and felt him up. No gun, but he clearly spent time in the gym. Sliding his hands down and along his back, he made certain there was no back up. If he had an ankle holster Monty had no intention of letting him anywhere near it.

Phillip was a good kisser, Monty appreciated the way he used his tongue. It was a shame he couldn't take him back to the hotel and get to really take advantage of his talents, but he would make due.

A hand slid over his waist and down onto his ass. The tinkling of ice in a glass alerted Monty that Phillip was still holding his drink. Pulling out of the kiss, Monty took the glass from Phillip, drained it, then leaned back over him. He pushed the ice cube from his mouth across Phillip's tongue.

He watched Phillip's lips as he broke up the ice noisily with his teeth, granting him a shit-eating grin while he did it. Monty leaned away, arching back and placing the empty glass on the table behind him. Phillip's eyes traveled down his chest and to his crotch, where his erection was clearly outlined in his thin suit pants.

Before Phillip could say or do anything about that, Monty reached between them and grabbed him through his own clothes. Phillip's eyes fluttered and Monty squeezed a little harder than necessary, "What kind of toys are you manufacturing?"

Phillip laughed darkly, licking his lips, "Not that kind."

"Shame," Monty breathed over those full lips. Shame about a lot of things, like not seeing them wrapped around his cock. Still, "You could model them after this prime specimen. I'd buy a dozen."

Phillip's eyes were blown, and his breath was already starting to stutter. Monty released him and ground against him instead. Phillip moaned and told him with a broken voice, "It's a one of a kind. Get it while you can."

Propping a hand over either shoulder, Monty grabbed the back of the sectional. He lowered his lips to Phillip's ear and said, "Oh, I intend to."

Phillip moaned louder as he twisted his hips against him, then again. Catching his mouth with his, Monty kissed him, mouth wide open for him.

He was just getting a good rhythm going when Phillip separated enough to ask, "Are we really going to do this right here?" He didn't sound upset, just surprised.

"Do you really want me to stop?"

"Fuck no," Phillip punctuated it with an upward thrust of his hips.

Monty exhaled sharply and sped his pace. He wasn't looking to draw it out, they were in a rather conspicuous, public space, and Monty just wanted some quick relief. They hadn't drawn any eyes yet, everyone was too busy trying to get themselves laid to care, but there were definitely time constraints.

Sliding one hand off the upholstery, Monty grabbed a handful of that luscious black hair, tightening it between his fingers. Phillip tensed under him, his own hands gripping Monty's thighs hard. Monty's thoughts wandered to what those hands would look like wrapped around his dick, and his body pulsed.

Moaning, he deepened the kiss, panting into Phillip's mouth. Phillip was thrusting against him, his pace starting to get frantic. Monty could feel his own orgasm building, a dull roar in his ears drowning out the too-loud music of the bar. His skin was starting to tingle, and he knew he was close.

Phillip came first; the feel of him shaking under him, of his hips twitching as he spilled was enough to push Monty over. They clung to one another as the quakes caused them to jerk against each other, mouths open but only to breathe directly down each other's throats.

The first thing Monty was aware of was how tightly he was gripping Phillip's hair. Slowly he unclenched his fingers, sending a ripple and weak moan against him. Phillip shivered and opened his eyes, looking up as Monty sat back on his heels.

They were both gasping like they had just run a mile. Monty gave himself a moment, straightening Phillip's suit, patting his hair back into place. Then he took a deep breath and slid off Phillip's lap, and onto his feet.

"Thanks for that," he told Phillip against his cheek; he looked a little dazed, "Enjoy the rest of your trip." Straightening, Monty made his way out of the bar before Phillip could recover, and before the wet spot on the front of his pants became too visible.

His mood greatly improved, Monty smiled as he heard Phillip mutter behind him, "Fuck."

*** **