Chapter Text
James had always felt like he was born into the wrong tax bracket. A billionaire heir to a major cosmetics empire with the heart of an impoverished pauper. So it seemed only fitting that he had positioned himself as a vagrant within his own community of riches. Deciding to step down from his position at the company in order to focus on becoming a professional beggar for his non-profit. Their mission was to provide healthcare and resources to homeless youth and over the past five years, they had grown to their own offices, staff, and healthcare facility, becoming the largest non-profit on the West Coast. While a large chunk of that was made possible by James’ fortune, maintaining their thriving donor base had always been at the forefront of his attention.
The annual gala was hugely important for that. In a hotel ballroom, a dense variety of donors and stakeholders congregated in their best black tie for the largest fundraiser of the year. James had a love-hate relationship with the gala. While it was incredibly important for continuing the organization’s work, it was also the most socially exhausting night of the year, preying on his finite amount of charisma as he circled the room to offer himself up to whoever he could smooze with.
James was making small talk with the CEO of a local startup, reiterating the impacts the organization had within the past year. The statistics his team had drilled into his head for these very moments. Rich people were a difficult crowd. Not moved by much, not impressed by anything. James had learned through the years that he wasn’t like the wealthy people he’d been raised around. He had always felt a moral obligation to give back, to help the less fortunate. Folks like these were often so high above the reality of the average person’s daily life that they couldn’t possibly find empathy for those in need. James had learned that they needed to be caught in the most brief of moments, they needed to be force fed the right facts to make their wallets bend to his will.
“Over a third of the homeless population in this country is under the age of 24. And this makes them over twenty times more likely to experience sexual assault, struggle with mental health, and develop drug dependencies,” he stated passionately, his stare almost intimidatingly direct like just the right amount of pressure. “Our services have been able to reach over 40,000 youths in the past year alone. 10,000 of those we were able to settle in homes and jobs. This work continues to have relevance. Now more than ever, these youths need our help.”
“Yes, well,” the CEO widened her eyes. “I think you and this event have made that vividly clear tonight. I’m going to talk with our giving team about how we can best support your mission.”
James felt the stretch of a charismatic smile across his face. “Thank you so much,” he nodded his head, extending a hand as if to shake on her promise. “It was lovely talking to you.”
When she had walked off, James was left alone for only a moment, before Marlene was bombarding him with papers in hand.
“James,” his assistant heaved like she was rushing. “I have that final script for you. I got the last of the board to approve of those edits you made. Oh, and I think I just spotted the LeStrange’s, that wacky family that is big in the art sector. I have a docket for them.” She started flipping furiously through her folder.
He put a hand to her shoulder. “Hey,” he breathed, under the chatter of the crowd. “Relax. I haven’t even given my speech yet and we already surpassed our goal.” He inclined his head to the screen at the front of the ballroom that was going up in real time with donations. “So I’m going to take this,” he eased the script from her hands, eyeing a passing server with a tray full of drinks. He took a glass of champagne, offering it towards her, “And you are going to take this.”
Her shoulders fell, “I swear to God, James, how do you keep such a level head with this stuff? I feel like a chicken with my head cut off most of the time.”
“You need to break up that corporate mindset of yours, Marlene,” he smiled, eyeing the script. “We are trying to improve the lives of kids across the country. Therefore, we aren’t in competition with anyone but ourselves.” He looked over, noticing half the champagne was already missing. “I’m going to go take this to the balcony,” he said, lifting the paper in his hand. “Could you come grab me when it is time to speak?”
“Mhm,” she said, the glass obstructing her voice as she took another generous chug.
James stood on the balcony, reading over the script under his breath to try and commit to memory the proper pauses, the unfamiliar names. He lifted his eyes to the skyline that stretched out in front of him. The skyscrapers of downtown in the foreground, but just beyond them lay slivers of the Sound. It’s denim blue water tinted greener in the golden light of sunset that was cast just over the silhouette of the snow tipped mountains. James had only lived in Seattle for the past five years, after his friends and him graduated from school and decided to follow each other across the country. But even after years, the views still took his breath away.
He heard a soft little sound that pulled his attention away. Made his ears perk like a rabbit in the forest as he stilled, turning his head slowly towards it. He heard it again, getting nearly lost in the wind. A moan. He crossed the balcony, looking over the left edge, down the length of the hotel building's many floors, its protruding balconies.
His eyes scanned them, before hearing it again, louder. His gaze fell on a balcony that was diagonal from him. Just close enough that he didn’t have to squint to see its occupants. The plane of fair skin that glimmered in the dying light, stretched out as a man stood with his hands against the banister. He had dark curls that he was messily combing to the side with his fingers as he looked over his shoulder. Behind him stood a muscular man, his hands on the man’s hips as he thrusted deep into him, pulling another sweet whine from the curly haired man.
James felt his cheeks go warm at the sight, horrified by his own voyeurism as he struggled to look away. His own hands went tight on the banister as he kept watching. The thrusts of the man getting more intent, quicker, but James’ eyes wouldn’t leave the fair-skinned one. His lithe frame, ribs taught against his skin as he threw his head back. He couldn’t make out his face from a distance, but there was enough there to suggest how good-looking he was. A certain set in his narrow shoulders that felt refined, regal.
He heard the sounds in the man’s throat going weaker, higher like he was close to the edge. James leaned closer, feeling the thrum of his pulse run excited by the thought.
“James,” someone called from behind him.
He spun in a flash, that heat in his face doubling as he stared wide eyed at Marlene in the doorway.
“It’s time,” she told him, but her gaze went concerned, traveling down his face. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, smoothing down his hair. He fidgeted with the script in his hand as he followed her in, trying to scrub the memory of what he’d seen from his head. They went up to the stage at the front of the room, a podium standing solitarily. Waiting for him. He felt the nerves of the speech mix with his shamefulness, conjuring an unsettling emotion in him that was too difficult to place.
“Good evening,” he said at the start of the speech, watching the room settle and come closer towards him. He got started, introducing himself, the event. Starting to discuss the past year in retrospect. He felt the engagement of the attendees, making it easier to go on. Eyes skimming down his script as he read.
But when he raised his eyes, he couldn’t help but attach onto a face in the crowd. Freckles across a nose bridge, bright green eyes, a mane of gorgeous vibrant red curls. Even from a distance, James felt like he could smell her. Honeysuckle and jasmine. So sweet and fresh like she had always been. Even when screaming at him, sobbing against his chest, even when signing divorce papers. A visible shake in her hand.
He felt warmer under the collar of his suit, trying his hardest to keep his voice steady on the words at the end of the script. He finished the speech to energetic applause, before stepping down, handing off his script to Marlene, and cutting through the crowd. His objective was set, needing to be close to her if only to indulge his compulsive need to know things were okay between them, especially after parting on such bad terms. Even if something inside of him screamed for him to stop, knowing these chance encounters always seemed to knock him back months in progress.
He quieted those concerns as he came up alongside her. She was wearing a gorgeous emerald silk dress that hugged the shapely contours of her petite frame. He tapped her shoulder, watching her turn to meet his eyes. Her beaming smile filled her whole face.
“James,” she gasped, throwing herself into his arms to embrace him tightly.
“Hey, you,” he laughed, leaning into the cushion of her hair and deeply inhaling. There it was. That scent just the same, down to the way it calmed every frayed nerve.
She pulled back, smiling up into his face, “Lovely speech you gave. Lovely event this year. Truly.”
“Thank you,” he nodded. “Though I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Then, maybe you forgot that my hospital is still one of your top donors,” she smirked.
He bit his tongue, punishing his own forgetfulness. “Of course,” he nodded. “Of which we are incredibly grateful for.”
“It’s an amazing cause. We are happy to do what we can to support it.”
James felt the sincerity of her words, letting them sink beneath the cover of his guardedness. Forgetting just how good her praise felt. How she had that air about her that could fill a room with love. He had always admired that, tried to mimic it with irregular success.
“Actually, while you’re here,” her eyes brightened. “I wanted you to meet Mary.” She pulled a woman to her side. “Mary, this is James.”
His eyes skated over her. She was beautiful, nearly as tall as him with dark skin that reflected the light at the high points of her sculpted cheekbones. She was wearing a lovely shade of magenta in her elegantly tailored suit that complimented Lily perfectly. James had heard of her before. Whisperings from mutual friends that Lily was seeing someone else. He could barely remember how long ago that started. Had it been two years already? How had time escaped him?
Mary’s smile stretched wide, but there was something hidden behind it. Something less than genuine. “Pleasure,” she murmured, passively.
“Can I run to the bar for you, honey?” Lily asked her.
“Sure,” the woman nodded. She leaned in, planting a slow kiss on her cheek and murmuring in her ear. “You know what I like.”
James felt a tint of jealousy that he no longer had the luxury of harboring. Afterall, Lily hadn’t been his for years. And most days, he was at peace with that. This wasn’t most days.
Lily smiled dreamily like a lovestruck teenager. James would know, he’d been on the receiving end of that same look when they were nothing but lovestruck teenagers. She took off, weaving her way through the crowd and leaving James and Mary in an awkward silence. The babble of the folks around them falling quieter as if the two of them were in their own little bubble. Waiting to see who would pop it.
“So, you’re the ex husband?” Mary said, sizing him up with an intimidating sweep of her dark eyes. “The dirtbag sex addict.”
James’ face contorted, taken aback by her forwardness. “Oh. Is that how she painted me?” he murmured, hiding the words behind the drink in his hand. Trying not to let himself sound wounded, though he was.
“She’s far too kind to use those words,” Mary said, smugly. “I’m not.”
“Well, whatever she told you, it wasn’t like that.”
“You told her she couldn’t satisfy you. That she never had and she never would,” Mary crossed her arms over her chest, tone growing sharper with each word. “Can you even begin to understand the impact of what you did to her? Of how you treated her?”
James felt the reminder of his words like a stab in the chest, bleeding empathy that wouldn’t clot no matter how much time had passed. Regrets that had laid low suddenly roared back to life, filling his head with hopelessness. “I told her a lot of things I didn’t mean,” he said earnestly. “I’ve apologized. She’s forgiven me.”
“Well, I haven’t,” Mary gritted between her teeth.
James took her in with a long glance, feeling exasperated by the whole conversation. It wore on his nerves, preyed on his memories. Conjured feelings he had been pushing down for over three years. With intentional effort, he pushed them down again. “I’m not your enemy, Mary,” he told her with a slight shake of his head. “And I think it’s a mistake to reduce what was a complicated situation down between two adults to…to simply-”
“Simply what?” she baited him.
“Sex!” he forced out, a little too loudly. Noticing the turn of a few heads just beyond Mary’s shoulders. He sighed, flustered and embarrassed as he cursed under his own breath.
The woman’s eyebrow tilted upward, a smug little grin on her face like it somehow proved her point.
Lily slipped back between them, two glasses in her hand and a smile on her face. “What are you two on about?”
“Nothing,” James breathed, downing the rest of his glass.
“James was just telling me about the organization,” Mary offered, accepting the drink from Lily’s hand.
“Of course,” she nodded, reaching forward to put a hand to James’ shoulder. “Brilliant work on the event, James. Truly. Every year this gala keeps getting bigger. A massive accomplishment. Worth celebrating.”
James’ eyes flicked to Mary, seeing the slight bristle of her shoulders at the contact between them. “Thank you, Lily. Your support means the world,” he leaned in, tilting a kiss to her cheek like it was the most familiar thing in the world. Because perhaps after years of being divorced, it was still easy to slip into old habits. For better or for worse and all that. “I’m going to keep making the rounds, but it was a pleasure meeting you, Mary,” he forced a fake show of teeth towards her, before looking down to point a more sincere smile to his ex-wife. “And good to see you, honey.”
He could only take so much delight in Mary’s scowl as he walked away.
—
He didn’t last much longer at the party. Trying to engage with the donors and members, but feeling his own charisma slipping away from him as his mind kept going to darker places. He kept his eye on Lily and Mary across the room, but their presence was springing forward thoughts of screaming arguments in the middle of the night, drunken stutters and broken glass, a box full of her things, a lawyer on his doorstep. Reliving them like nightmares as he tried to stay present, but it was an impossible task.
He said his quick goodbyes to the staff, shying away from Marlene’s concerned expression before calling his driver to bring him home. He’d known Peter for years, ever since he moved to Seattle and found himself too busy to make the short commute between downtown and his home. Since then, Peter had become more than just a driver, but a friend.
“Rough night, Jim?” he asked, tilting his gaze up in the rearview mirror.
James became conscious of his expression. The downturn of his mouth, the absent look he had as he watched the skyscrapers of downtown melt into the smaller buildings of the other neighborhoods. “Is it obvious?”
Peter shrugged noncommittally, making a turn. “Sounds like the event was well received,” he offered optimistically. “You made all your goals and then some!”
“Mm,” James hummed looking out the window. The event was the farthest thing from his mind now.
Peter’s gaze stayed on him for a moment longer, reading the air as he had become quite good at doing. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts, Jim,” he said, not speaking again for the duration of the trip.
—
When James came in the door, disabling the security system, he shucked off his shoes with heavy feet, his jacket with rolled shoulders. Casting off his tie and undoing the top buttons of his shirt as he tossed his effects to the tray by the door. He didn’t turn the lights on in his home, following the view of the panoramic windows in his living room. He could see downtown illuminated in the background, past the view of expansive Lake Union that was reflecting the night sky, glimmering like black ink. The view is what had sold Lily on the house. The plethora of wealthy neighbors in the vicinity sold James, wanting to leverage their pocketbooks for the organization.
He went straight to his room, removing the rest of his clothes until he was in nothing but his underwear. He knew he should have showered, but he didn’t have it in him. Instead, he crawled up into his large bed, feeling just how cold the sheets were with no one to warm them. He lay there in the dark for a long time, replaying Mary’s words. They shot through him like arrows he couldn’t pull out.
Dirtbag sex addict, he recalled with a sigh. Knowing that it had been an exaggeration of the truth. Sure, sex had played a part in the split, but it was hardly the foremost conflict. A symptom, not an illness. But at the time, it had been the easiest thing to blame. And James regretted that deeply, it filled him with shame that wouldn’t wash away.
Lingering on a spectrum between self-deprecating and self-destructive, he reached for his phone in the sheets, letting it illuminate his face in the dark as he pulled up his most frequented hook-up app. He started to scroll through the images, noting the distance they were from him. He recognized a few of them, past hook-ups that he had needed to passively bury himself into because he had no one else there to accept him. People who had no intention of asking for more than just sex, which was what he needed. He had proved his inability to properly care for another person with Lily, his heart wasn’t a safe place to be. He wouldn’t be cruel enough to do that to anyone else again.
He pulled himself from those thoughts as his eyes fell to a square on his screen. He clicked it, opening up the profile. The photo that caught his eye magnified. A smooth plain of perfectly silky fair skin, a dark head of curls, the muscle and bone articulated under the surface. His face turned away, though not unimportant as the faint trace of his profile looked nothing short of lovely. James’ mind flashed back to the balcony of the hotel. To that lithe boy getting his back blown out. Thinking absentmindedly that he would have liked to stay and watch a little longer. Would have liked to imagine himself gripping those tight hips, staring at the crinkle of two sharp shoulder blades as he fell apart.
He knew there was no way that the man from the balcony could possibly be the same one he was looking at now. Afterall, there was hardly enough evidence. His features weren’t unique enough to prove damning. But still, James scrolled down the profile, curiosity piquing.
Seeker. 28. NYC based.
Send me something nice and maybe I’ll reply.
Below that was simply a username for a money transfer service, implying that ‘something nice’ wasn’t exactly just a compliment. James’ eyebrow raised, knowing it was stupid. Likely some catfishing scam. But in the pits of his own despair, he just needed to busy his mind. And this was just the right amount of absurd to do the trick.
He swiped to the app, plugging in $50 and a memo. Enough to pique your interest? he offered, leaving his username as well. He sent it off, swiping back to stare at that picture again. Admiring the sculpted definition of his back, the dimples that sat imprinted just above his bare ass that was just out of shot. He felt desire stir low in his stomach.
His chat inbox flashed with a new notification, causing James to sit up quickly in bed. He hadn’t expected something so instantaneous. He clicked over to it, wondering why he suddenly felt nervous.
$50? I don’t get out of bed for less than $300.
James felt one side of his smile pull up, huffing just under his breath as he typed.
You wouldn’t have to get out of bed for me.
He could see the ellipses hover for a moment.
Nice try. Pay up or get blocked.
James scoffed at the man’s insolence, fingers animatedly moving across the keys.
Are you serious?
Deadly. Come on, boss. Show me how much you want me.
James shouldn’t have felt the words course through his whole body, after all they were just empty, faceless words. But he couldn’t help but hear them in his ears, sharp and witty and petty in a way that should have been off putting but it wasn’t. Only more enticing.
It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money.
He swiped back to the payment app, loading in $500 dollars before sending it off with no memo needed. He only had to wait another moment for a reply.
Hm. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot.
James smirked, biting down on it as he typed.
I can be persuasive.
I can see that. What’s your name?
James.
Hello, James. You can call me Seeker.
What are you seeking?
I don't know. What are you Jamesing?
James gave a snort. Alright, Seeker it is.
Tell me, James. Why did I catch your eye tonight?
He momentarily wondered if he should lie. Say it was solely the man’s photo that caught him, but that wasn’t necessarily true. And the situation was ridiculous enough that he didn’t feel the need to politely withhold.
I saw someone who looked like you. He was getting his brains fucked out on a hotel balcony in downtown Seattle. Any chance it was you?
Mmmm. Sadly no, though that sounds delightful. Creepy old man, did you watch?
A little, he confessed, feeling lewd for even admitting to it. It was hotter than it should have been. And I’m not even old. I’m only 30.
So am I supposed to believe the jacked, tanned man in your photos is you? I’m not an ameteur, James.
The thing was, it was James in his photos. Sure, his face had been cropped to preserve his privacy. He was rather high profile after all, sole heir to a major cosmetics empire and all that. But then again, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew that half the people on this god forsaken app used whatever muscled photo they could steal off the internet.
I could send you a pic of me now and you’ll see I’m not lying.
To be honest, what you look like is hardly relevant. You were the one who reached out to me. Meaning you have some sort of desire you’d like me to sate, right?
James felt heat crawl up into his face, up his ears and neck. The nerves rushing back in as he started to type. Deleting what he wrote about five times before settling.
I can’t sleep. Can’t turn my brain off.
Is that all? Someone needs a lullaby?
The next message wasn’t text, it was an audio clip. James hesitantly clicked play. The phone emanated with the sound of hushed, tender whimpers. James could imagine them through gritted teeth, the sound of the crumpling sheets, the faint vibration of some toy in the background. It made every muscle in his body pull taut.
He reached down beneath the sheets, sliding a hand into his boxers as he felt his cock twitch awake. Blood rushing away from his head and carrying with it all his stupid, guilt-ridden thoughts. He started stroking himself, listening to the audio play out. Seeker’s whimpers blossoming into soft moans, gaining more weight and volume as they went on.
James closed his eyes, thinking about Seeker’s photo. His sculpted body and how badly he wanted to see it crumble. How good it would look painted with his seed. He let those thoughts carry him down a rushing river of euphoria, rapids of pleasure cascading over him. And as Seeker’s moans went howlingly loud, desperate and needy and on the edge, they pushed both of them over the waterfall.
James’ climax hit him harder than any from the recent past, feet cramping and pulse thrumming as his chest rose and fell. Watching the glistening come slip across his tawny brown skin. His mind reeled, nearly dizzy. Dazed and dull in the aftermath.
Nearly like clockwork, his phone illuminated with another notification.
How’s that for a lullaby?
James smiled, a laugh pulled from his chest. He wiped his hand clean, reaching for the phone.
You’ve done it. You made me jerk myself into a drunken stupor.
Excellent. Get some rest. Good night, James.
He could feel the stupid smile on his face. He hurried to text back.
Wait. Can I message you tomorrow?
The ellipses flashed for only a moment.
After you pay me.
James felt that same bubbling curiosity in the low of his stomach.
I can do that.