Chapter Text
Luke thinks he should’ve just thrown away the piece of paper.
To be honest, for about a week, he completely forgot that it existed. It was just something his friend slipped into his hands one day, when he was stressing over the ever increasing pile of work he had to deal with at his job, whispering him quietly that it usually helped him blow off some steam. Luke stared at the number and joked about whether Biggs was trying to get him to sign up to a gym or something.
Biggs just stared at him, brow arched, eyes traveling down to Luke’s crotch. “This is a…different kind of steam,” he said with a grin and a wink before he returned to work, silent chuckle on his lips.
Luke spent the rest of the day red all over, the number hot and heavy in his pocket. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Biggs’s idea of blowing off some steam was getting himself off, not even in the shower or in bed, alone, like most people, but by calling a phone service for exactly this purpose.
Even the name of the company made Luke blush head to toe. Rapid Release. What kind of a name was that?
A part of Luke thinks that he should’ve ripped the piece of paper immediately, not even bothered with it. Except that day he came home and instead of throwing it away, he tucked the number in his nightstand and proceeded to forget about it.
Until today. Until the stress at work got too much that Luke wanted to rip his hair off or cry, tense and jittery all over, nibbling on his lower lip so constantly that he made it bleed twice now. That’s how Luke ends up with the piece of paper in his hand, the numbers blurring together with his anxiety, legs crossed and shoulders straight.
He should throw away the number. Not think about it again. Instead, he punches it into his phone, putting it on speaker, and shuts his eyes tightly.
The phone rings twice before a sultry female voice answers, words deep and slow. “Thank you for calling Rapid Release,” the woman says, and Luke tries not to snort again. He shifts on the bed, extending his legs before he crosses them again, wondering which position will be more comfortable. Better for…getting himself off.
Talking to someone.
Luke is so distracted that he jumps in place when the woman stops talking, presumably done with her “terms of service” or whatever, and the voice switches. Luke stares at the phone and after a moment of hesitation, he presses on 1.
Ten minutes. Luke doesn’t think he can take more of…this, even if he doesn’t get off at the end. The phone starts ringing again, connecting him to his…escort? That feels wrong. Operator sounds too much like a robot, and Luke doesn’t think the person would enjoy being called a hooker. He nibbles on his lower lip again, fingers fidgety on his lap, and shuts his eyes.
He shouldn’t have done this. It’s a mistake. He should just end the call right now—
“Hello.” Luke jumps when a quiet, low voice interrupts his thought process. His eyes snap open and he stares at the phone.
The voice is much lower than Luke imagined. And for the first time that night, Luke feels something like heat and excitement curl in his stomach. He shifts on the bed, extending his legs, and presses the phones on the pillow next to him. His voice is entirely too thin for his liking once he finally finds it.
“Hi,” he blurts out, “what’s up?” and immediately, he wants to slam his hand against his forehead. What’s up? He really just said what’s up to the sexy voice on the other side of the line. What a hot start for a ten minute phone sex.
A breathy laugh comes from the phone. “I’m doing good,” the man—at least, Luke assumes it’s a man. The voice is entirely too deep for a woman—says, too smooth compared to Luke, and presumably way more experienced at this than Luke. Shame curls in Luke’s gut and he thinks he definitely made a mistake. This is ridiculous. This isn’t going to work. He’s entirely too stressed out for—
“You know, no one’s ever asked me that before.”
Luke’s eyes flicker open. He stares at the phone, suddenly scared. He should’ve read the terms of service, shouldn’t he?
“Am I not allowed to? I’m sorry, I just… I wasn’t trying to…”
“Hey,” the man interrupts, amusement audible in his voice. “I appreciate the sentiment. I hope your evening is going wonderfully, too.” The man drops his voice at the last two words, turning it into something sultry that hits Luke right in the gut, and he feels heat pool in his crotch. For the first time that night, the jeans feel too tight around his hips.
“It’s…going,” he says, hating how thin he sounds compared to the man. God, he must think Luke is an idiot. “I’m sorry if I sound like an idiot, I just…”
The man laughs again. “It’s okay. We have time.” Luke wants to point out that they have less than ten minutes, but he keeps his mouth shut. The man talking means he doesn’t have to, and that’s all the better to him. It does help that he seems to have the voice of a God—or the devil, depending on what you believe.
“What do you want me to call you?” the voice asks, and Luke turns to the phone. He thinks of at least ten fake names, nicknames, stuff that doesn’t even make sense, stuff that probably only sounds hot in his head. At the end, he goes with the simplest answer.
“Luke.” He gulps, staring at the ceiling. “What about you? If you… If you want to tell me.” He vaguely remembers that…escorts aren’t allowed to give out their names.
“You can call me Mando,” the man says. A pseudonym. Still, warmth curls in Luke’s stomach and he rolls the name around his tongue, trying to relax his shoulders. Mando, he thinks. He’s talking to a person, this isn’t some weird robot, and people do this all the time. This isn’t weird. “Tell me, Luke,” Mando continues, voice lower low, and Luke can almost imagine him in his chair, holding the phone. His mind supplies the image of a man with dark beautiful eyes and a mustache, and he wonders how close he is. “What would you like from me?”
Luke’s fingers curl around his t-shirt. He looks down at himself, at his jeans that are tight around his hips, the small tent slowly forming over his crotch. He thinks of what makes him feel good, heat rising to his cheeks. He likes to…touch himself? That sounds so lame that he wants to groan, and not in a good way. He likes to be fucked? He flushes to the tips of his ears. He’s definitely not telling that to someone on the phone.
The words that slip his mouth is way less sexy than anything he imagined. “I don’t know,” he blurts out, eyes firmly closed, fingers curled around his stomach. “I’ve never… This is kind of, uh…” He bites down on his lower lip. “This is my first time doing something like this.”
He doesn’t know why he expects Mando to judge. He’s getting paid for this, he tries to remind himself—it wouldn’t be good for business if Mando insulted him. His answer is quick anyway. “That’s okay,” Mando murmurs, his voice softer now. “You can tell me what feels good and we go from there? Can you do that for me, Luke?”
A shiver runs down Luke’s spine at the sound of his name, at the tone of Mando’s voice, so understanding yet sultry at the same time. Luke tries to think of an answer to his question, even bringing one hand to his waistband and teasing himself through the fabric as if it’ll give him the words he needs, and yet nothing comes. He gulps and hooks his thumb around his waistband.
“I don’t really… I don’t know what…” he stumbles, throwing his head back onto the pillow. “What do you do during these?” he finally blurts out, cheeks red as a tomato. The line is silent for a moment, and Luke thinks he overstepped his bounds. “I meant that… It’s okay if you don’t tell me. I just… I don’t really know what I’m doing and I thought you could help me… Maybe tell me… Tell me how you usually do it.” He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering to the clock. Four minutes already wasted, and he isn’t even hard. Great.
Mando answers only a few seconds later. “Okay,” he says, and Luke thinks he must’ve imagined it, but his voice sounds a bit hoarser now. A bit…less sure. “Let me know if anything makes you uncomfortable.”
Luke presses his lips together and nods. “Okay.” That eases at least some of the worry in his gut. Mando chuckles at his thin voice and continues, voice lower and slower.
“Close your eyes now for me, Luke. Can you do that?” Luke takes a deep breath and lets his eyelids flutter shut. “Where are you right now? In your bed?”
Luke feels the sheets around him. “Yes.”
“That’s good. Now, tell me, where do you want me? Picture your room. Don’t open your eyes.”
Luke imagines someone with a blurry face standing in front of the bed. “I don’t even know how you look like,” he blurts out, and he’s just about ready to take it back when Mando chuckles. God, even his chuckle is hot and warmth curls in Luke’s gut.
“I have brown eyes,” Mando simply offers. Warm, dark chocolate brown swims in front of Luke’s vision and he places them over Din’s face, still a bit blurry. Luke places the other features, adding a stubble and curly hair, strong shoulders and a black t-shirt, when Mando doesn’t continue. He shifts in the bed, pants suddenly tighter. He’s definitely growing hard now.
“You’re by the foot of the bed,” he whispers, still a bit unsure. “In… In black t-shirt and pants. Jeans. They’re…” Luke bites down on his lips, slipping his hand lower, and cups his crotch. He bites back a hiss when his palm covers his hardening cock. “They’re tight.”
“I like it,” Mando says with a chuckle, and Luke releases the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. He thinks that Mando sounds slightly breathless now, and it’s even prettier than before. “Are you in the middle of the bed?”
Luke shuffles slightly, moving there. “I am now.” His voice is lower, too. Quieter.
“Close to the end?”
“Yes.”
“Close enough that I can reach your legs?”
Luke thinks he stops breathing. He wriggles down, feet dangling off the bed. “Yeah.”
Mando is silent for a few moments. “Can I?” A shiver runs down Luke’s spine, all the way to his legs. He gulps and squeezes his eyes, balling the blanket around his empty hand.
“Please,” he chokes out, body trembling with need. It’s quiet, but Luke thinks he hears Mando swear under his breath through the phone. His fingers tighten around his cock, thumb brushing the tip of the tent. Luke is sure he’s leaking now.
“I move my hands to your legs,” Mando continues hoarsely. “Inner legs. Trailing up slowly, parting your legs as I go, bending them at the knee. Can you see me, Luke?”
Luke’s breath hitches in his throat. He parts his legs, lifting his hips to press his crotch against his palm. “Fuck, yes,” he breathes, aching to slip his fingers inside his jeans and grab his cock.
“Good. Part your legs for me, love.” Luke shivers at the pet name, parting his legs even more, feeling exposed even though he knows no one’s technically there. “Make me space between them.”
“Yes,” Luke breathes, wriggling his hips, widening his legs as far apart as they go.
“Let me settle between them. Is that okay?” Luke can only answer with a strangled moan, arching his back to press his cock into his palm again. He imagines Mando between his legs, kneeling down, his fingers torturously moving in his inner thighs. “What are you wearing?”
Luke’s hand stills around his cock. “Jeans,” he whispers, wishing that they were sweatpants. How easy it would be to just slip his fingers inside in that case…
“Do you want me to unbutton them?”
“Yes.” Luke’s voice come more like a whine than anything. He moves his hand off of his crotch and to his waistband. He shakily unbuttons his jeans, imagining Mando’s fingers on there instead of his, imagining it’s him teasing his zipper. “Mando? Can you…” he starts, but his voice trails off.
“It’s okay, love,” Mando interrupts, voice somehow soft and hot at the same time. “I got you. Tell me what you want.”
“Can you touch me?” Luke whispers, voice thin and shaky. “If you… If you want that?” Luke keeps his fingers on his waistband, not moving them down, waiting for Mando. After a few torturous seconds, he hears Mando let out a rough breath.
“Anything for you, Luke,” he murmurs, and this time, Mando’s voice is so low that Luke can’t help a moan. “Can you unzip your pants for me? Let me slip my fingers inside?”
Luke’s breaths turn shallow. Slowly, he brings down the zipper, loud enough that he’s sure Mando hears. He imagines Mando’s hands on his hips. “I’m wearing red underwear,” he blurts out, flushed red, thinking of Mando’s expert fingers splayed on it. This time, he clearly hears Mando swear under his breath.
“Fuck, Luke,” he whispers, voice rough. “So beautiful.”
Luke lets out a quiet chuckle. “You don’t even know what I look like.”
“I don’t need to.” Luke shivers with the arousal in Din’s voice, rough around the edges and clipped. “Let me slip down your underwear, love. Let me see you.”
“Mando,” Luke chokes out, voice tinted with desperation. He hooks his fingers around his underwear and pulls down, freeing his aching cock, hissing at the cold air that hits it. “Mando, please,” he pleads, fingers lingering right next to it, waiting for Mando. Brown eyes pierce his, Mando’s fingers replacing his in his imagination. Slowly, Mando moves them closer to his cock.
“So hard for me, Luke” Mando whispers, and Luke doesn’t even have it in him to ask how he knows. “I move my fingers closer to you, love. Can you feel me? I wrap them around the base.”
Fingers touch the base of Luke’s cock and it twitches desperately. Luke whines at the ghostly touch. “Mando, I’m leaking,” he chokes out, tightening his fingers. Mando takes in a sharp breath.
“So good,” Mando breathes, “you’re doing so good.” The praise makes Luke shiver, another moan escaping his lips. The sounds seem to only egg Mando on. “I move my fingers up. Smear the precum. I want to see your cock glisten for me. Just for me.”
“Please,” Luke whimpers, pumping his cock. He squeezes at the tip, already so wet that his hand easily slips down. His cock twitches even at the littlest touch, steadily approaching climax
“Move faster, love,” Mando whispers, and Luke whines. “Thrust your hips. Fuck my hand.”
“Fuck,” Luke chokes, moving his hips up to meet his hand. His rhythm is jerky, fingers slippery on his cock, desperate and fast, but he doesn’t care. He twists his wrist at the base, trying to get more friction, and moans. “Please, Mando, don’t stop—"
“I’m not stopping.” Mando’s voice fills Luke’s ears and he moans, squeezing his cock, desperately close to his climax.
“I’m close.”
“It’s okay, love. I got you.”
“Mando—” Luke moans, feeling his cock twitch. He pumps without rhythm, hips jerky, legs strained and trembling with the effort of holding back. “Please, Mando—"
“Let go, Luke,” Mando whispers breathlessly. “It’s okay. Let go.”
“Mando!” A loud moan escapes Luke’s lips as he pumps one last time, Mando’s words pushing him over the edge and he comes, spilling over his stomach and hand, thrusting his hips until he’s completely spent. Soft moans and whines escape his lips and he thinks he might’ve imagined it, but he thinks he hears Mando swear under his breath, voice hoarse and breaths labored, just listening to Luke.
When he’s done, Luke slumps onto the bed, completely limp. He keeps his eyes closed and legs parted, imagining Mando between them, cum spilled over his hand, grinning.
“Luke?” he hears Mando whispers. Luke hums, tilting his head. “Are you with me?”
The answer is no, but Luke keeps it to himself. He blinks his eyes open and for once, he stares at the phone. He nibbles on his lower lip.
“Mando?” he whispers, wriggling in bed so he can sit up. He tries to ignore the cum spilled all over his t-shirt, biting down his embarrassment. “Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
Luke stares at the call screen for a few seconds. “Is it always like this?” he blurts out, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “When people… When people call?” He doesn’t really know what he expects as an answer. He imagines Mando does this with tens of people, if not hundreds, presumably making all of them feel as special as Luke feels right now. Luke opens his mouth to take back the question, eyes closed, when Mando answers.
“No.” Luke blinks his eyes open and arches a brow. Mando’s voice is so hoarse that he thinks he’s genuine. That he’s not…playing it up for Luke. “Never.”
By the time Mando ends the call, Luke is still reeling from the answer.