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Emergency Contact	By : RueRambunctious Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 1533 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any related adaptations (inc. Professor Moriarty) and make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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After a disgrace with a tiger and a number of other perceived crimes, the errant son of Sir Augustus Moran has been discharged; dishonorably, although family money has at least managed to keep that part private, outside of the overgrown brat's inner circle.

This inner circle have been gambling and drinking well into the day, and night, in commiseration of Sebastian Moran's disgrace. Sebastian is a waste of the education received at Eton and Oxford, and the stinger is that he could have been Colonel material had he only managed to keep his distaste for authority in check.

Sebastian seems in no way contrite about any of that and instead seems to be following the example of his peers in the pursuit of inebriation.

They have been caught cheating and have been kicked out of an establishment barely scathed only due to Sebastian's less palatable connections. His friends treat it as a lark, perhaps not recognising the danger in their far from sober state.

Someone has suggested food, and that seems to be considered a favorable option by the majority, but the group do not seem to have much of a sense of direction, and get distracted by the emerging night life.

Sebastian notes a scruffy and slightly debauched looking teenager in a rumpled tracksuit eying their group speculatively.

“We should get Basher a whore!” someone exclaims, slurring and loud at what is technically still an early hour. Not even closing time yet.

The evident inebriation in the off-duty soldier's voice does not appear to be off-putting to the others. An amused, raucous chorus of agreement meets the ears of likely everyone in the vicinity. Before a sluggish Sebastian can protest, his friends are slapping together a bundle of notes, pushing them into his hand, and shoving him out of their straggling herd.

Sebastian manages not to stumble and turns back around to face his friends, protesting the unnecessary nature of their plan.

“Don't be shy Moran, you can choose ass over tits tonight if that's what you're after!” someone replies with more volume than Sebastian appreciates.

“Plough him, Basher!” someone else agrees.

Sebastian sighs and pivots, not needing to scan the nearby faces to know the frosty-looking little chav is the one he desires on this occasion.

The soldiers continue their silly, loud encouragements. Sebastian does his best to tune them out and pushes the money into his pocket. He approaches the young rent boy.

The boy is leaning against a wall, hands in the pockets of his thin jacket, and one foot tucked underneath himself. He looks cold physically and emotionally, but straightens up and takes his hands out of his pockets as Sebastian appears.

“How much?” 'Basher' asks without preamble.

The whore's eyes glitter calculatingly. “Just for you?” he asks in a surprising Irish lilt.

Sebastian agrees. A list of basic prices rattles off of the chav's tongue.

Sebastian's pocket is filled with significantly more than required. “And what about for the whole night?” he asks.

The younger man gives Sebastian an assessing look, but presumably accepts the idea of a night out of the cold, and voices a higher figure.

“My hotel's not far from here,” Sebastian announces in lieu of acceptance.

“Grand,” his future bed partner says dismissively. He stamps his feet lightly against the cold and follows Sebastian's lead.

“Do you need to tell anyone where you're going?” Sebastian asks.

The dark-haired boy gives him a sidelong look. “Your friends drew enough attention that the entire street will be watching where I go,” he replies.

Something in the boy's voice makes Sebastian think that the whore does not have a pimp, but it would hardly have been sensible to admit thus, so Sebastian does not press the matter.

The young man follows Sebastian into the hotel at a respectable distance, not highlighting their intentions.

Sebastian leads him to his sparse room and allows the brunette to close the door behind them, giving the youth a semblance of control over the situation.

The boy then steps inside and waits for directions. His cheeks are bitten by the harsh wind outside and he cannot quite repress the quivering of his body from his obvious coldness.

“Come here,” Sebastian says gruffly. The boy takes a step forwards, and stiffens when Sebastian pulls him close against Sebastian's own chest and wraps the whore in Sebastian's long jacket.

Sebastian flinches a bit at the chill of the rent boy's body.

“What are you doing?” the brunette asks.

“You're freezing,” Sebastian says bluntly. “I'm not.”

“I'll heat up when I get to work,” comes an Irish drawl from somewhere within Sebastian's coat.

“Humour me,” Sebastian responds, not pulling away until the rent boy feels almost room temperature. Breathing into cupped hands to warm them, Sebastian holds them against the other man's cheeks for a few moments.

He pulls away. “Better?” he asks.

The whore looks healthier, but not especially amused. “Now should I undress?” he asks.

Sebastian slips off his coat, placing it over the back of a chair. “Don't you have rules to tell me?” he asks.

The whore shrugs. “No mouth kissing, no marking my neck, no chopping me into little pieces.”

Sebastian chuckles. “Alright; I promise.”

The younger brunette seems tempted to roll his eyes but instead unzips his tracksuit jacket, dumping it on the floor quickly before pulling off his plain teeshirt.

Although thin, his body is not unattractive. Sebastian smirks at the boy and unbuttons his own shirt. The look the boy returns says less about relief at not being with an overweight old man and more unease at Sebastian's obvious strength.

“Top or bottom?” Sebastian asks.

The young man blinks at him, unused to the question. His hands freeze on his waistband and he asks, “What?”

That accent is rather pretty, and Sebastian wonders whether the reserved young man can become a talker if suitably stimulated. “Do you want to be on top or the bottom first?” Sebastian expands.

The brunette shrugs. “You're paying; you tell me.”

“We've got all night, so I thought I'd offer to start off as a gentleman,” Sebastian explains comfortably.

The boy kicks off his trainers and socks and pushes down his tracksuit bottoms. “How gracious,” he says a little mockingly.

Sebastian wonders how often the boy's biting tongue fetches his pert rear a good slap. He imagines the boy's yelps likely to be quite seductive, and Sebastian smirks as he reaches into his pocket and pulls a strip of condoms from his wallet.

Sebastian tosses them onto the bed and notes that the boy's gait sags a little in relief. Presumably not all of his clients are as easy on safe sex.

Sebastian finishes undressing and joins the teen, nudging him towards the bed lightly. “Get on all fours and I'll get you started,” Sebastian suggests.

The whore barely looks at him, but obeys with a haughty expression.

Sebastian smirks and settles behind him, spreading the boy's cheeks quickly and giving a broad lick just to hear the brunette gasp.

Sebastian chuckles softly and presses kisses into the back of the nearby thighs. “Gotta have you relaxed before I prepare you,” he teases.

The brunette squirms as Sebastian's hot breath approaches his passage again. “I can prepare myself,” he offers.

Sebastian gives him another lick, then blows cool breath on the wet skin. The fine hairs on the rent boy's body rise at the sensation. “I think you'll find this better,” Sebastian teases. The young man feels him smile against his vulnerable skin.

Sebastian alternates moments of kissing the quivering thighs surrounding him with licking and sucking at the whore's entrance. The brunette wriggles and huffs, but does not bother to protest again.

Sebastian can hear the boy's breathing changing, becoming more ragged, and as much as Sebastian would like to have the reserved young man mewling and pleading, this will certainly do as a start.

The brunette's hips are starting to buck under Sebastian's ministrations, and his toes wriggle.

“Are you still sure you'd rather prepare yourself?” Sebastian teases, his breath tickling the brunette's wet skin.

“Yes,” the boy retorts, and gasps as Sebastian lightly bites his thigh.

Sebastian tuts. “What a little liar.”

He flips the young man over, exposing the boy's obvious pleasure, and licks a long string of precum from the whore's leaking cock.

The boy's cheeks are flushed, but he has the audacity to roll his eyes.

“I should leave you hard and aching,” Sebastian scolds, but he dips his head and sucks on the whore lightly, swirling his tongue around the tip.

The brunette squirms and pants, but gives Sebastian a mistrustful look.

Sebastian lets go with a pop of his reddened lips. He leans up, licking the boy's chest teasingly, and pulls open the beside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lubricant with foreign writing. He hasn't been back in the UK long and Sebastian had been in little doubt that he would be taking <i>someone</i> home.

The brunette catches his breath as Sebastian rips open the plastic, and a vaguely exotic smell meets their nostrils as Sebastian squirts some lube into his large hand.

The brunette waits, not quite meeting Sebastian's amused gaze as the older young man rubs the goo between both hands to warm it.

“Ready?” Sebastian asks softly.

The brunette huffs and looks away a bit, but slides his hips closer.

Sebastian chuckles. “Still not very friendly, are you?” he mocks. He reaches down and gently strokes the swirl of the rent boy's passage, thrilling at how the boy gasps at the chill and the presence.

Sebastian continues to stroke, adding more gloop until the whore is slippery and relaxed. The legs against Sebastian's shoulders finally feel warm.

Sebastian scoots closer and licks the length of the brunette's member, catching the end carefully in his mouth and starting to suckle reassuringly as he slowly begins to slide one finger inside the brunette's coiled heat.

The brunette gasps, looking flushed and alive, and Sebastian isn't entirely sure which action caused the utterance. Sebastian continues both ministrations to be sure, then carefully adds more lube, leaning uncomfortably on one elbow.

The brunette licks his lips and quietly asks for more.

Sebastian pulls back his head. “Are you sure?” he asks, his lips shining and red.

The brunette makes a noise that suggests he is not quite above keening but is trying his best not to.

“Fine, fine,” Sebastian answers, giving the boy's leaking tip a kiss then pulling back to carefully lube up and add a second finger.

The boy makes a swift intake of breath, and breathes shallowly as Sebastian slowly scissors his fingers within.

“Better?” Sebastian asks.

The young man gives the tiniest of nods, and Sebastian gives him a smile before returning his head to the brunette's genitals.

The reward is a string of breathy noises. The brunette bucks his hips pointedly when he desires the next finger, and Sebastian obeys in a similar manner.

“I'm ready,” the brunette says at last.

“You are not,” Sebastian retorts, lifting his head and frowning. “If I start you sore you're going to really be feeling it by the end of the night.”

The young man's gaze flickers as though he knows Sebastian is right, but mutters, “I can take it.”

“You will take what you're damn well told,” Sebastian retorts. He pulls back yet again and adds more lube to his hand, easing in four fingers.

The brunette shivers at the cold and squirms at the uncomfortable tightness, doing his best to adjust quickly.

“See, I told you that you weren't ready,” Sebastian lectures, rocking his hand slowly in the tight heat to brush the brat's prostate.

The young man very almost keens then, and Sebastian grins. He continues stroking for a while then reaches for more lube and coats his thumb.

The brunette gives him a confused look. “What..?”

“If I know you can take my hand then I know you'll be fine to take my cock,” Sebastian explains.

“I don't need that; I'm ready,” the brunette states calmly.

Sebastian eases inside gently. “No need to rush, is there?”

The brunette rolls his hips gently. “No,” he agrees.

Sebastian plays with the boy for a bit longer then eventually gives him a smirk. “Now I think you might be ready,” he purrs.

The whore rolls his blue eyes and bucks his hips encouragingly.

Sebastian reaches back for a condom, ripping the foil open with his teeth and sliding it on. He eases his other, more occupied, hand out slowly and liberally coats his dick. He also coats the brunette's ring again and the young man rolls his eyes, glad that it's a new, full bottle as his client seems to think the whole thing is only meant to last one night.

“I saw that,” Sebastian growls teasingly, catching the brunette's gaze for a moment before glancing down to line himself up carefully.

“And?” the whore asks petulantly, the question softened by the blush of his cheeks and the way his dark lashes flutter.

Sebastian glances back up again, trailing his gaze from the young man's face to the rise and fall of the pale chest, to lower still. Pushing up against the warm ring of muscle, Sebastian does not feel he needs a verbal response.

The brunette hisses, tensing then consciously untensing. Sebastian kisses along the nearest expanse of white flesh soothingly.

The whore makes a noise that might have been a whimper had it been loud enough to tell. Sebastian stays very still. “Tell me when to move,” he says kindly.

The brunette gives him a glance from under half-lidded eyes that might have been gratitude if his features didn't stray so naturally to distrust.

Sebastian waits, the rise and fall of chest reminding the teen just how broad and physically powerful the slightly older man inside him is.

The whore tenses further, but slowly forces himself to ease closer, hoping 'Basher' will stay still.

Surprisingly, he does. The young man wriggles up and down experimentally, and although Sebastian groans, he diligently remains still.

“You… you can move,” the young rent boy says charitably.

Sebastian lets out a moan of relief over the brunette's slightly scarred shoulder and does so, moving slowly and deeply.

The brunette curls his fingers into the sheets and leans further into the contact.

“Yes?” Sebastian asks.

“Yes,” the young man clarifies.

Sebastian picks up the pace a little, and the brunette can tell from the careful touches along his body that 'Basher' could be a lot more forceful if he liked. He is unsure whether to be relieved or not.

Sebastian licks along the back of the smaller man's ear playfully. “Rolling your eyes again?” he asks a beat later.

The brunette's lips curl a little and it shows in his voice as he mutters, “Perhaps.”

Sebastian lets out a small laugh, heating the exposed skin before him. The brunette does not recoil, rolling his hips steadily.

Sebastian slides both his hands around to the brunette's angular hips. “Can I..?” he asks.

“Stop asking, start doing,” the brunette huffs. Unperturbed by being pulled closer and the increased violence of the thrusts, the whore continues, “No wonder you need to pay for it if you ask questions all the time.”

Sebastian laughs aloud, amused. “You talk to all your customers like that?” he asks, giving a hard enough snap of his hips to make the brunette's voice catch.

“Only the hopeless ones,” the boy responds tartly.

Sebastian snorts and lightly slaps the whore's delectable rear, which the young man doesn't seem to mind much. “Get much repeat custom?” he asks.

“Do you get many complaints for 'not as described', Basher?” the brunette counters.

Sebastian laughs so hard he actually stops thrusting. The rent boy starts to look around, but does not quite meet the other man's eyes.

“I'm fairly drunk and want to make sure I don't hurt you,” Sebastian explains candidly. He raises his rough hand from a bony hip to the brunette's short, dark hair. Pulling it with moderate harshness, Sebastian asks, “You like it a bit rougher do you?”

A hiss comes in response.

Sebastian bites lightly on the chords of the boy's neck, careful of leaving bruising, and yanks the brunette so close he cries out.

“Don't blame me when you're sore tomorrow,” Sebastian warns in a low, seductive voice that sends chills down the young man.

Sebastian pulls out and quickly flips the brunette over, impaling him again before he can draw breath.

The rent boy gives him a wide eyed look, but Sebastian simply puts his large hands on those hips again and says softly, “Put your arms around my neck.”

The young man gives a mildly questioning look but obeys, feeling a little disconcerted by the more intimate proximity.

Sebastian stands, taking the brunette's weight, but letting it drop enough that all the younger man can feel is full.

“Good?” Sebastian asks.

The young whore blinks and nods.

Sebastian starts to snap his hips heavily, raising and dropping the brunette onto his dick with force, his thumbnails turning visibly white from his grip.

The brunette thinks he might just develop bruises on his hips but cannot bring himself to mind. Besides, he doesn't bruise easily there. Leaning back as though on a swing, the young man feels a strange mixture of free and contained.

And Sebastian is fucking him at such force that he might just scream, without the older guy even seeming to find the exertion taxing.

“Basher indeed,” the rent boy says breathlessly.

Sebastian laughs again, and increases his pace to breakneck speed just to show off.

The brunette cannot catch his breath, and his prostate has never been so ravaged in his life. He starts to exclaim in a strangled sort of scream, and then he's cumming, and he can't tell the actions apart, and this Basher person keeps on going like a piece of strong machinery.

Sebastian is delighted, but cannot spend much time feeling smug. The increased speed is making it hard to hold back and the brat is tight to begin with, clenching harder as he spasms, and it's not long before the brunette is filled with a sensation of warm, wet heat.

Sebastian steps quickly towards the bed, knowing his legs won't stay reliable for long. He drops them both down, not pulling away from the brunette immediately as the boy's arms are still around his neck.

The rent boy seems to notice and lets go, lying down and blinking up at the ceiling. Sebastian lies for a moment, finally panting and showing that he is not superhuman, then turns and asks, “How long do you need?”

The whore blinks again and stretches out reluctantly, preferring to rest. “I can take another pounding now if you like.”

Sebastian chuckles a little incredulously. “That wasn't enough of a bashing for you?”

The brunette wriggles his hips, considering. “I'll live,” he surmises.

“I should hope so,” Sebastian comments. He removes the used condom, ties the end, and lobs it with skill into the bin. “I'm not done with you yet.”

The young man sits up, urging away his tiredness. “Have at it.”

Sebastian's lips quirk. “I think it's your turn, Sasslips.”

The brunette rolls his eyes yet again. “Give me a moment,” he says, waiting before reaching for the slippery bottle of lube.

“No rush,” Sebastian says in almost a singsong voice, “we've got all night.”

“You don't sleep?” the young man teases, squirting out a handful of cold goo.

Sebastian eyes him suspiciously, “If that's a wisecrack about my age, brat, you're not too old for a spanking.”

“Like I'm frightened,” the brat drawls. “Spread 'em.”

Sebastian obeys easily, moving his strong legs apart.

The brunette prepares Sebastian swiftly and efficiently, but with less gentleness. The whore knows he could drag out the process to give himself more recovery time, but he finds himself slightly eager.

If Sebastian notices, he wisely doesn't comment. Instead he winces a little, squirming at the brunette's touch.

“I can't stick my fingers in your arse if you move it away,” the whore scolds.

“It's been a while,” Sebastian retorts. “Take it easy.”

Sebastian wonders if the boy gets dizzy from all the eye rolling, but relaxes a little as the rent boy eases up with his ministrations.

The brunette reaches for another foil square, unwrapping it carefully. Rolling on the protection, he gazes over Basher's body, at the military tattoos, the inked scope, cards and Indian tiger. The tiger looks expensive and well done, but unlike most men Basher hasn't bragged about any of his artwork.

“Move your legs up,” the whore intones.

Sebastian obeys, feeling a bit stupid and exposed, but shortly the other man is pressing against him and that is all Sebastian can think about.

It burns. It hurts worse than Sebastian remembers, as it always does, and then eventually the feeling shifts and he feels less like he wants to cry. The brunette waits, and Sebastian pushes further against his dick stubbornly, wincing.

“Can't take a bashing?” the rent boy teases.

Sebastian looks him coolly in the eye and Sebastian might have hit the brat if there wasn't a throbbing cock joining them intimately.

The young man knows it, smirking, and rolls his hips rhythmically.

Sebastian considers forgiveness, despite that look that needs smacked off the brat's face, and leans into the contact approvingly.

The whore frowns a little as he thrusts, as though pursuing his own pleasure takes concentration. Without a word he puts a hand under Sebastian's leg and moves it to his shoulder. Sebastian moves his other leg up against the side of the brunette's neck too, and mewls, lips quivering, as the whore reaches further within him.

The brunette's lips twist mockingly at the noise, but Sebastian does not care, because this was certainly a good idea.

The brunette's hands move to Sebastian's shoulders and he fucks with far more force than Sebastian would have expected from that meagre, wiry frame.

“More,” Sebastian rasps.

The brunette gives him a mildly surprised look, but moves one hand to Sebastian's throat, using a careful pressure, and pushes Sebastian flat onto his back. Sebastian reaches up, pulling the young man closer. The air between them is warm and their skin is misted in sweat and the frosty brat's breath is hot enough on Sebastian's skin to almost burn.

Sebastian curls his legs tighter around the whore encouragingly and the brunette might just pound Sebastian's pelvis to dust if he keeps up with that punishing speed. Sebastian can feel a burning in his stomach and legs and wonders whether he will be able to unpretzel himself afterwards.

The brunette seems like he might just have noticed the discomfort, because he eases off for just a second to place a mild bite into the muscle of Sebastian's leg. Sebastian has never thought of biting as reassuring before, but this is, and he pulls the rent boy so close they might just meld together.

The brunette's breathing suggests he could quite easily go all night, but he can tell that Sebastian is sore and reaches down into the narrow heat between them to locate Sebastian's weeping cock.

Sebastian's hips jerk in surprise, but he moans enthusiastically and cannot quite understand how the brunette's hips can keep up their punishing pace whilst his arm is racing fast enough between them that Sebastian might never find satisfaction in his own grip ever again.

The brunette gives Sebastian a knowing look and mutters something teasing into Sebastian's ear. Sebastian tries to twist his open mouth to shape words in reply, but the brunette shifts his angle and suddenly the middle of Sebastian's vision is white and his grip flounders and the brunette does it again and <i>fuck</i>!

The whore chuckles breathily as a burning liquid coats his chest, dripping and smearing between them as he continues to thrust, dropping his hand and smearing it on the sheets so he can use both for extra leverage. Sebastian feels the brunette start to race for completion and thinks he might just die.

The brunette finishes, and Sebastian has never felt anything so right in his life and is perfectly certain that he is painted in bruises.

Gasping, the brunette removes himself and rolls off of Sebastian.

“Good job,” says Sebastian from somewhere that might not even be his mouth. His voice sounds rather far away.

The young whore sniggers lightly in response and lies flat on the mattress, sweat making the sheets unpleasantly sticky, but feeling too drained to care.

Sebastian breathes heavily and listens to his hammering heart slowly return to calm.

The brunette's stomach protests loudly as they lie together in their a blissful haze. The brunette shifts slightly, giving his body a disparaging look.

Sebastian could quite do with food himself actually.

“Time for a munch then?” Sebastian announces, pulling himself up and reaching for the room service menu.

The whore makes a noise that might be agreement.

“Would you rather go down to the restaurant?” Sebastian asks. “It's open all night.”

The brunette makes a disparaging face, which relieves Sebastian as he doesn't want to get up, dress, or be near people either.

“Pick something substantial,” Sebastian declares, handing over the menu. “You've had a fair workout and you don't have the fat to spare.”

Sebastian flicks the boy lightly in the forehead when those eyes roll.

The whore points coolly to a meal and Sebastian nods, picking up the phone and calling it in.

“What do you want to drink?” Sebastian asks.

The rent boy considers quickly. “Orange,” he answers.

Sebastian nods and repeats this into the mouthpiece.

He puts down the phone and lies on his stomach, eying the young man beside him speculatively.

“What name do you go by?” Sebastian asks.

The brunette is silent for a minute. “Arty,” he says at last.

“Like Articus?” Sebastian asks dubiously, thinking the name more than a mouthful for a council estate.

“Like Banksy,” Arty response with a sniff. He sits up and removes the condom, standing and carrying it to the bin. Sebastian gathers up the bits of foil, folds them together to make them more aerodynamic, and lobs them into the bin after it.

The lube coating his ass is gluing the sheets to him and it is bloody uncomfortable. Sebastian peels himself away and walks stiffly to the bathroom, his legs feeling like lead and jelly all at once. He grabs a small towel and wipes himself off.

Sebastian pads back through to the bedroom and holds the towel aloft. “You want to clean yourself up?” he asks.

The brunette's lips curl and he indicates the smeared white spatters making his chest shine in the light. “I think we both need a shower,” he responds.

Sebastian laughs, “Yeah, but I can wait until I've had food.”

Arty nods, appearing less haughty than usual. “Yes.”

Sebastian lumbers through and uses the towel to give the rent boy a quick wipe down anyway. The brunette squirms but does not bother to move away, and Sebastian teasingly makes a kissing sound before dumping the towel away.

There is a knock on the door. They look at each other in surprise.

“I didn't realise that much time had passed,” Sebastian admits.

Arty stretches a little and makes the barest effort to cover himself with a cornet of the ravished sheets. “The kitchen's probably quiet just now so there's less of a wait,” he surmises. “Respectable people are asleep.”

Sebastian makes a disparaging noise, obtaining his boxers and pulling them on awkwardly before answering the door.

A young woman waits in the hall with a trolley. She's pretty, with a wavy blonde ponytail and slightly amused lips.

She carries in the food and waits for Sebastian to check the order is correct. Her eyes linger on them both as Sebastian tips and dismisses her.

“I think she'd have liked to watch,” Arty comments dryly as Sebastian brings their food over.

“I'm too old for a threesome,” Sebastian grumbles, looking far more interested in the food.

“You're not even thirty,” Arty comments, unfolding the napkin from around his cutlery.

“I am very much less than thirty, thank you,” Sebastian retorts.

The brunette smirks mockingly and pulls his warm plate towards himself. “It would have cost you extra anyway.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, and makes an amused noise at the disparaging look Arty gives him.

Arty looks away and ignores him, devouring his meal before it has much chance to cool.

Sebastian feels like he has sobered up considerably, but the idea of wolfing his food does not appeal to him. He eats slowly, chewing thoughtfully as he watches Arty.

“My arse is killing me,” Sebastian comments blithely, not bothering to move from a sitting position as he eats.

“Poor Basher,” Arty responds with clearly false sympathy.

Sebastian chuckles at his brattiness and takes another mouthful. They eat in companionable silence for a while, them Arty places his plate on the trolley.

“Is it alright if I go shower?” he asks.

“Knock yourself out,” Sebastian agrees cheerfully. “I'm too full to offer to join you.”

Arty laughs, sounding unusually sincere, but maybe that's just the full belly, and disappears into the bathroom.

Sebastian puts away his plate and flops down onto the disgusting bed. He aches and feels rather pleased with himself. His stomach gurgles merrily as it processes food.

Sebastian strokes his stomach and half dozes in his sated state. He looks up mildly as Arty pads back through to the room, his short, dark hair sticking up in wet spikes.

“You look clean,” Sebastian comments lazily.

“You sound stupid,” Arty responds lightly.

“I don't care; I have had a very good night,” Sebastian says contentedly. He stretches out like a big cat on the bed. He asks, “Are you staying?”

“What?” the brunette asks.

Sebastian points sluggishly at the window, indicating the rain outside. “Your money's in my trouser pocket whenever you want to go, but you're welcome to sleep here if you don't want to go out in that.”

Arty considers, then drops his towel and strides towards the bed. “I don't cuddle,” he assets sternly.

“I make no promises,” Sebastian replies smugly, but moves over to give the other boy room.

The brunette notes that Basher has silently volunteered to sleep in the majority of the wet patches, and climbs in slowly.

Sebastian reaches for the duvet, which is slightly on the bottom of the bed and mostly on the floor. He shakes it a little then pulls it up over himself and Arty. As Sebastian fusses he connects with the brunette's icy feet, which Arty pulls away quickly.

“How are you so cold?” Sebastian exclaims. “You've just showered.”

Arty shrugs. “I never retain heat.”

“Well unlike you, you snake, I'm a radiator, so you might as well put your feet on me,” Sebastian offers.

Arty gives Sebastian a skeptical look, not much inclined to take up the offer, but he is cold and he could do with a good night's sleep. “Fine,” he mutters.

Sebastian flinches a little at the cold touch, but scoots over more so more of his body heat radiates the whore's way.

“G'night, Arty,” Sebastian says mildly, settling down to sleep.

“Goodnight Basher,” the brunette responds.

“Sebastian,” the other man murmurs, sounding half asleep already.

Arty gazes at him quietly, a strange expression on his face, then rolls over and closes his eyes.
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Emergency Contact