Chapter Text
James had only been awake for a half-hour before he was dropping another large sum into Seeker’s account like it had become his new god damn morning routine. Hating the overwhelming stress that told him everything in his world was fucked and the only peace he was capable of knowing was the sound of the man’s voice coaxing him to another climax. But if this was the price of momentary happiness, then James was more than okay with paying it.
“That might be a new record,” Seeker purred into his ear as soon as he answered the phone. “What has it been? Twelve hours since you last came from just my voice in your ear.”
“Fourteen technically,” James said, picking up his house compulsively. “But who’s counting?”
Seeker huffed under his breath. “What do you want, James?”
“I was just… thinking about you is all,” he tossed his clothes from last night into the hamper.
“Popped another Viagra with your morning latte and you’re ready for another round?”
James felt the silly little heat in his face, “As if I need Viagra.”
“Guilty till proven innocent,” he sighed. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know,” he suddenly felt shy, embarrassed that he even called at all. “Just wish you were here. Wish I was waking up to you.”
“You’re so soft, James,” he laughed. “To think you’ll be coming in three minutes.”
He felt that heat in his face go everywhere, coursing down his body like a prophecy awakened. “Should I set a timer?”
“Let me see you,” Seeker said, softer in his ear like he was close. James briefly imagined his lean weight close, tilting into him. It was so pleasant. “Take it off for me.”
James was standing in the middle of his bedroom, feeling that unaccustomed sensation of being watched. Like the receiving end of voyeurism. It made every nerve in his body splay wide like they were anticipating something. He hadn’t slept in a t-shirt, but he still had his sweatpants on. Becoming overly conscious of the way they felt as the hairs on his legs stood on end. He slowly reached for them, pushing and kicking them off his legs with his boxers still in them. Feeling the air of his bedroom touch every inch of him, a chill sweeping down his spine. “There,” he announced.
“Mm,” Seeker hummed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do look good.”
His mouth pulled up lopsided from the praise, standing a little taller.
“But I think you’d look better on the floor, don’t you?” Seeker offered. “Hands and knees?”
James’ breath folded in his chest. He carefully knelt down to the wood floors, bracing onto one hand. “Like this?”
“Ass higher, darling,” he said with a clap.
And in the moment, James could almost feel it. A hand against his ass cheek. He preened, arching. “There,” he groaned.
“Perfect,” Seeker giggled. “That’s perfect. Can you put me on speaker?”
James could feel a blush in his cheeks like some dumb subconscious worry that someone would hear, even though he knew he was the only one there. He put the phone to the ground, put it on speaker. Letting both hands brace against the floor, only then noticing just how heavy his cock was hanging between his legs. How hard he had gotten. And from what? Being told to get on the floor? Since when was he as sensitive as a teenager?
“That’s it,” Seeker soothed. “I can see that flush blooming across your chest, your back. You’re aching to be touched, aren’t you?”
James’ insides pulled like taffy in the low of his stomach. Wondering how he knew, how he could feel it through the phone. “Yes,” he said like a gasp caught in his throat. Closing his eyes just to try and ground himself, but all he had to cling to was Seeker’s voice.
“I’m going to sit in front of you and watch you do it yourself.”
James’ fingers curled into the wood floors. And no, he wanted it to be him, be Seeker touching him. But he wasn’t in control. And he could be good. He could listen. He reached for himself, letting his hand enclose his cock. His breath quivered in his weak chest.
“Just like that,” Seeker said, snarky smile in his voice. “Don’t stop.”
James’ other hand on the floor shook under his weight, feeling suddenly frail. His eyes clenching alongside his jaw as he tried to not crumble.
“Say my name.”
“Seeker,” he whimpered, hand on his cock gripping harder, picking up speed because he couldn’t help himself.
“Louder.”
“Seeker,” he hissed through his teeth, toes curling as he tried to hold on.
“Your three minutes is almost up, darling,” he noted. “Are you close?”
“Mhmm,” he choked out, arm shaking so hard, he had to sink down to his elbow to keep himself up.
“You have to want it, James.”
“I do,” he pleaded. “I swear I do.”
“I’m not convinced,” he said with a smirk in his voice as he promptly ended the call.
James’ eyes shot open, looking at the phone screen. “What?” he gasped. “No, no, no, NO.” He reached for it, slipping through his fingers briefly before he could go to his call history. He rang Seeker’s number. Because this wasn’t over. He couldn’t just leave like that. “Pick the fuck up, you brat,” he muttered under his breath, cock pulsing untouched between his legs.
Seeker’s phone went straight to voicemail. “Fuck!” James shouted, dialing him again. Getting another voicemail box. “Don’t you fucking-” he dialed him once more.
“Yes?” the man answered, tone so apathetically aloof.
“Seeker, what the fuck,” James hissed. “How could you-”
“Actions speak louder than words, James,” he said simply before hanging up again.
“Shit,” James felt like weeping. He sank down to the floor, swiping back to that transfer app and queuing up another $2,000. Please. read the memo as he sent it off.
The call came through just a moment later. “See how simple that was?”
“You said I’d be coming in three minutes,” James panted.
“And I think we proved you could have,” Seeker sassed. “But I can’t let you think I’ve become predictable now, can I?”
“Just please,” James swallowed, raising up on his knees again. “I’ll do anything. Just let me finish. Please.”
“Touch yourself then, you desperate little thing. Like I’m watching. Like I’m there.”
James let his eyes close again, imagining Seeker sitting on the edge of his bed. Doing something so stupidly passive like painting his nails as he lazily instructed James to fall apart for him. Like it was the easiest thing in the world. And James wanted to give him that, give him more. Anything. He’d do anything.
“Let me hear you, darling,” he encouraged with a soft giggle. “Let me hear you fall apart.”
James moaned, low and breathless as he thought of Seeker’s pointed canines showing through in a ruthless smile. He was so impossibly enticing without even trying. “Fuck,” he gasped as his body went tight, breaths seizing in his chest as he went weightless. The floor underneath him disappeared and he was in freefall for a moment that felt like forever before it all came crashing down. Before he was moaning wild and rampant and slick between his own fingers, dripping on the floor crudely and leaning his forehead against the wood.
“You sound so good, James,” Seeker told him. “Making a mess of yourself for me. Just for me, right?”
“Just for you,” James panted, crawling to the bed and sitting up against it. His muscles were screaming, aching. And in the next few moments, as he desperately tried to catch his breath, he expected Seeker to leave him again. To drop a witty one liner and be gone. But he didn’t do that. He lingered in uncharacteristic quiet, piquing James’ curiosity.
“Can I ask you something?” he finally asked, breaths almost righted.
“Probably not,” Seeker quipped.
James went on anyway, “You’ve never seen me.”
“Astute observation,” the man noted dryly.
James worked a hand into his hair, feeling the small layer of sweat on the back of his neck. “You’re not at all curious who you are talking to? Who is jacking off to half your face every night.”
“Not half my ass?”
“Both,” James smiled. “And everything in between. Answer the question.”
Seeker marinated in it for a moment before sighing. “It’s not relevant what you look like. In fact, it is better if I don’t know.”
“Why?”
“Because then I can imagine you as whoever I like.”
James tried to contain his smirk, pulling his knees up into his bare chest. “But what if I’m better than you can imagine?”
“Wow,” Seeker choked through a laugh. “That’s some confidence. But if my other clients are any indicator, I doubt it.”
James blinked, trying to keep up. “You’ve seen other clients?”
Seeker scoffed through his teeth, “Do you understand what I do for a living?”
“Maybe I don’t,” he blinked. “I thought it was just photos, videos, texting, phone calls.”
“For most. But not all.”
James’ stare went blank on his bedroom floor, his mind firing in a million different directions. Feeling as if this changed everything, but he wasn’t quite sure why. “When was the last time you saw a client?”
“I’m packing right now.”
“For what?” James glared.
“I’m flying out to see someone,” he said simply like it was the most normal thing in the world.
James gawked, “You do that?”
“Not for everyone,” he reiterated.
James felt his thoughts run wild without him. Perhaps cause Seeker had been this nameless, anonymous, faceless entity, but to know that there were people who got to see him, hold him, fuck him. It was a wicked mix of jealousy for those people and hope for himself. “How does one, I don’t know-“
“You’re not there yet,” Seeker was quick to level him flatly.
James’ lips thinned into a flat line. “How much?” he questioned.
The man sighed into the phone, seemingly readying a smart remark, before perhaps deciding on something more candid. “It’s not a money thing. It’s a time thing. It’s a trust thing.”
“You can trust me.”
“I trust that you’re a pain in my ass.”
“Well actually, that’s exactly what I want to be,” he said, sarcasm dripping.
“Good God, James,” Seeker huffed, a nearly audible roll of his eyes. “You’re something else.”
James felt the unwilling smile in Seeker’s voice, mirroring it himself. Something twisting up tight in his stomach that wasn’t nerves, wasn’t temptation. Something more ambiguous, nearly foreboding.
“I really should be going. I have a flight to catch,” Seeker told him. “Maybe I can talk to you sometime next week.”
His eyes went suddenly wide, “Wait a minute. Next week?”
“Yeah, James,” the man said, like it was obvious. “I’ll be with someone else.”
“No, that’s not-” James felt himself rush with the need to keep talking, to keep Seeker his, not anyone else’s. “I’ll pay for you to stay in New York. I’ll-”
“James,” Seeker’s tone was firm. Setting a boundary. “I’ll talk to you later.”
And before he could protest again, the line had gone dead. James’ eyes going to the view in front of him. His desecrated bedroom floor. But it felt different now. Where he could see gratification in it before, now it felt empty, lonesome. As if he’d been left unfinished, unsated. James steeped in the deafening quiet until it was too much. Until he had to rouse himself to his feet and go take a shower.
—
The next few days went by unbearably slow, unbearably quiet. Sure, James still had pictures, voice memos, and a video to remember Seeker by, but it wasn’t the same as hearing his voice in real time. Knowing he was thinking of him too. And maybe that was delusional, to think of himself anything more than a piggy bank, but James had settled on not caring what he was to Seeker. He just wanted him however he could have him. And the intolerable silence was the very antithesis of that.
He was at the offices on Tuesday, sitting in a meeting with a mix of their staff and that of another organization. They were discussing a mutually beneficial project they were planning, going into the details of the different phases, delegating roles across the staff. James was trying his hardest to pay attention, but after two hours of going back and forth, he was getting restless. His thoughts drifting further from the room.
As someone else was presenting, he pulled his phone out, passively checking Seeker’s profile. His eyes getting caught on something different and not even recognizing what it was at first. Seeker had changed his profile picture. And when James clicked on it now, he saw the man shot from behind again. He was leaning halfway out of a balcony pool that overlooked a stunning turquoise ocean. He was fully naked, the water reaching just below those back dimples and obscuring the view below. All James could see was skin and it made him burn hot from a mix of attraction and jealousy.
“And that puts our prospective deadline for the end of December.”
James lifted his head to who was presenting. Playing the words back in his mind. “Wait a minute,” he slid his phone back into his pocket. “What about fall? I thought that was what we agreed to this year.”
The man at the front of the room went hesitant, “I don’t think that is realistic. The soonest we can do is December.”
James was already running too hot from the picture. Bitter poison lined his foaming mouth. “Well, quite frankly, that’s not going to cut it,” he said flatly. “We’ve been marketing this to donors for the fall. We can’t go back on that now.”
The guests shared a distressed look between themselves. The man struggling through his words, “Mr. Potter. We don’t have the resources right now to rush it.”
James was done, unwilling to hear more. Sick of staring at the same four walls when Seeker was on a beach somewhere without him. It wasn’t fair, just wasn’t fair. “You have till October,” he said, before closing his file with a loud thud. “Make it happen.” He stood from his chair and walked back to his office where he was fully planning on looking through Seeker’s photos like some war widow. But he was only sat at his desk for a second before Marlene came bursting in.
“McKinnon,” he sighed, dropping his phone onto his desk in a clatter. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
Her hands were fisted, her face a pale cast of fury. “With the utmost respect, James,” she started, articulating every word. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
James stared wide-eyed at her. Never having seen her so mad.
She pointed towards the closed office door. “I don’t know if you forgot, but those people you just so rudely blew off are a massive community partner of ours. We’ve collaborated for the past five years on this project and they have always come through. So why are you suddenly acting like such a fucking asshole?”
James’ shoulders softened, knowing she was right. “I’ll call them this afternoon,” he waved dismissively. “I’ll apologize. Tell them December is fine”
“I don’t get it,” Marlene kept going, still worked up. “You’ve been acting like a crazy person all week. You’ve been barking orders and skipping meetings and not eating. You don’t do that, James. You aren’t like that.”
He looked away, feeling embarrassed for drawing attention to himself. For bearing this stupid abscense of Seeker so loudly that everyone could see it. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Seriously,” she came forward, leaning both hands onto his desk. “What’s the thorn in your ass?”
“It’s-” he almost said it. Seeker’s name right behind his lips where he wished he could keep it forever. “It’s nothing.”
She sighed, roughly. Reaching up to tie her blonde hair into a bun, “You are taking the rest of the week off.”
“No,” he clipped, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. That’s the last thing I need.”
“Is it?” she scoffed.
He pushed his glasses up his nose, tinkering with them. “I don’t want to be alone right now,” he admitted weakly. “I do stupid shit when I’m alone.”
Marlene shook her head, “Stupid shit is forcing everyone around you into whatever the hell you are going through.
“I get that but-”
“Don’t you have some friends you can call? Sirius and Remus?”
He went quiet again, full of shame. “Not on the best of terms right now.”
“What happened?”
“Long story,” he sighed. “Not very interesting.”
She looked at him for one long moment, searching his face for something. If she had found it, she didn’t say, instead reaching into her back pocket and pulling out her phone. She started typing into it. “There,” she finally said. “I just changed your company password. You’re locked out of all files until Monday.”
“Are you kidding me?” James sat forward. “Can you do that?”
“Go home,” Marlene urged. “Rest. Relax. You deserve a break, boss. Alone or not.”
“McKinnon,” he warned. “Don’t do this.”
“Go,” she said, taking one last look at him before leaving.
—
James dragged himself back home, passing out in his bed as soon as he arrived. So emotionally and mentally drained from even his meager half day. Wondering how he was going to get through the rest of his week with absolutely nothing to busy his mind. When he did wake up, it was dark outside his windows and his doorbell was ringing. He pulled himself from the bed to answer it, stunned when it was Peter was standing on his doorstep.
“Good evening, Jim,” the man smiled warmly.
“Fuck,” he cursed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “McKinnon sent you, didn’t she?”
“She said you could use a night out,” he rocked back and forth on his toes. “So I’m here to be your wingman.”
“No, I don’t want to go out, Pete,” he shook his head. “I was just going to stay in. Order something. Watch a movie. Get wasted.”
“Well, go get something nice on and we’ll go out and get wasted together. Drinks on me.”
James looked at him, at his soft smile. Earnest and encouraging. He couldn’t deny him. “You’re not paying.”
“Deal,” Peter beamed.
An hour later, they were sitting in some loud, dark bar in Capitol Hill, people watching as they sipped their drinks. James was well into his Jack and Coke, feeling it warm his empty belly. It made the thoughts of Seeker feel ever so slightly more distant, dulling their sharp edges just enough to be palatable.
“Hey,” Peter slapped his arm, pointing across the room. “That one over there.”
“Don’t point. You look obvious,” James chastised, but followed the line of his arm.
He saw a blonde man sitting at the bar. He was muscular, fair-haired and eyed, stockier than James’ usual type but undeniably handsome.
“He’s been watching you for awhile now,” Peter said in his ear. “You should go talk to him.”
James felt out of his depth for a long moment, having to remind himself that he used to do this. Before Seeker, he would go to bars, pick up people for a night. He hadn’t always been a bottomless pit for someone. He could do charm, he could do fleeting.
“How do I look?” he asked Peter, smoothing his hands down his black jacket, his button-down and jeans.
“Like a million bucks,” his friend gave him a double thumbs up.
“Not a billion?” he tilted his head.
Peter rolled his eyes. “Just go,” he said, pushing him up to his feet and towards the man.
James squared his shoulders, feeling just the right amount of liquid confidence dripping through his veins to numb his anxieties. He made his way across the room, leaning close into the man’s shoulder to be heard over the roar of the bar. “Hey,” he smiled. “Is this seat taken?” He pointed to the barstool at the man’s side.
The blonde smirked, beckoning towards it, “All yours if you tell me your name.”
“James,” he smiled, sitting across from him. So close that their knees were brushing. “You?”
“Evan.”
James eyed him from a closer distance, his handsome, chiseled cheekbones. His firm arms and chest beneath his shirt. He smirked, “Your hands look awfully empty.”
Evan raised a brow, “What do you suggest I put in them?”
“Maybe a drink to start?” he shrugged.
“And then?” the man’s voice dripped with suggestion.
James fought the smile on his face. “We’ll see. Come on.” He caught the bartender's attention, ordering them two more drinks for the both of them. Sucking down half of his almost immediately as just a means for busying his hands. “So, Evan,” he smacked his lips together, tasting the flavor of the whiskey on them. “What do you do?”
“I own a five star restaurant in Ballard,” he offered. “You?”
“I run a non-profit.”
Evan’s light eyes narrowed, tilting his head. “Wait, I’ve seen you before,” he noted. “Did you do that half-marathon last fall through Seattle Center? The one for homeless youth?”
James smiled, “Yeah, I did. That’s my organization.”
“No way,” he laughed, a deep reverberating sound in his broad chest. “You looked just as fit then. I wanted to talk to you, but you…” he smirked behind his drink.
The curiosity ate away at him. “But I what?”
“Well, you ran off,” he shrugged. “Left me in the dust.”
He choked around his laugh, “Sorry about that. I get a bit competitive during those kinds of things.”
“It’s fine,” Evan assured him. “I think I won actually. Having that view of you from behind.”
James burst out into giggles, head spinning. Thinking that maybe flirting was like riding a bike. And just because he had only been doing it through a phone as of late didn’t mean he'd forgotten it. The two of them continued to chat, ordering two more drinks in the process. James was feeling it more now. A slow drip that soaked through all of him, tongue marinated in it like he’d never taste anything else again. His laugh was louder now, nearly snorting, and somehow Evan’s hand had found its way to his knee. It was warm. He liked it.
“Are you seeing anyone?” Evan asked, face close. His breath was just as alcohol soaked. Smelling like the cherry and orange in his Old Fashioneds.
James looked up into his eyes. His smile must have faltered for the way that Evan’s eyes immediately went to it.
“You are?” the man’s brow arched.
“No,” James shook his head. “No, not really.”
“Not really?”
“It’s…” he tried to find the words, but with his head so fuzzy.
“Complicated?” Evan scoffed at the cliche.
James felt himself flush pink with embarrassment. “It’s not really complicated,” he admitted. “It’s really quite simple. He’s seeing other people.”
Evan’s eyes painted down his face, landing on his mouth. “So, you can too?”
James swallowed, stomach twisting up into knots. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I can.”
Evan smiled as he leaned in, putting his hand against James’ thigh and squeezing as he met his lips. Lingering there so long that James felt that lightheadedness spin his head like a plate.
James leaned further in, chasing the man’s mouth and his taste without thought. Taking the slight part of his mouth as the invitation to lick behind his dashing smile.
James had forgotten how good kissing could feel, wondering absentmindedly why Seeker wouldn’t even want to imagine them doing this. He’d probably be so good at it. Probably vicious and biting like the brat he was. James’ mind went still for a moment, realizing too late that he had a handsome man’s tongue in his mouth and his thoughts were still preoccupied with Seeker.
He felt his shoulders go soft as his awareness went to that phone in his jean pocket. It felt heavier now, weighing him down like an anchor. The feeling was familiar in a way he couldn’t place at first. Just beyond the edge of his consciousness. And while he should have forced himself to stay present as Evan’s hand went further up his thigh, he instead reached out for that familiarity. Feeling around blindly for it until he realized where he had felt it before.
That anchor in his pocket suddenly feeling identical to the one he used to carry around his ring finger. The solid gold band and all it meant when Lily had slid it onto his finger with all their family and friends watching. How it felt against that strange man’s skin when he didn’t take it off. When he caught its gleam in the darkness and realized exactly what he was doing, who he was betraying.
James suddenly pulled away, looking back into Evan’s face as seeing the contained concern there.
“What’s wrong?” the blonde asked, the squeeze of his hand easing against his leg.
“I’m sorry,” James shook his head. “It’s not you. It’s just…” he couldn’t describe it.
Evan’s mouth pulled into a flat smile, searching James’ face. “So, it is complicated.”
James tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm himself down but it wasn’t happening. “Keep my tab open for yourself, okay?” he offered. “Anything else you want is on me.”
Evan nodded, polite and quiet as he sat back in his seat, “It was nice to meet you, James.”
He couldn’t even get out a reply as he staggered up from the barstool, legs weaker than when he had sat down. Mind racing as his body felt distantly floundering underneath him, trying to steer himself toward the exit. He went out onto the street, steps unsteady as his heart thrummed in his ears. The crushing weight of self-hatred on his chest. Of ambiguous hopelessness that he couldn’t pin on anything.
He careened down an alleyway, feeling for the brick wall as he slid down onto his haunches. His lungs quivering as if he was sobbing, nearly hyperventilating. He went for his phone, that weight in his pocket, dialing Seeker’s phone number.
“Seeker, please. Please,” he murmured under his breath. “Pick up. Please.”
After two rings, it went to voicemail. Screened.
“Fuck,” James shook, listening to the robotic woman’s voice tell him to leave his message after the beep. “S-Seeker,” he stuttered out. “I was just calling to let you know…” What did he want him to know? Fuck, what was he doing?
He swallowed, trying to find his voice again. “That I want to put my hands all over you. Leave handprints that your other stupid clients can see.” He held his hand over his eyes, askewing his glasses on his face. “And maybe that is dumb and possessive. But when it comes to you, I’m obviously very dumb and very possesive. And easy, so goddamn easy since it’s been little more than a week and I’m eating from your palm. Like I haven’t even seen all of you, but I already know that I would do anything for you and-” he groaned, frustrated, through his teeth. “If you’re even listening to this, you’re probably having the time of your life mocking me. And mock me all you want, Seeker, but there’s no one in your rotation that wants you as bad as I do. I’m fucking positive of that.” He forcefully ended the call.
He sat there in that alley, near tears for a while. Not sure what it all meant. The remorse, the remembering mixing with the compulsion, the delusion. Drenched in alcohol and loneliness and none of it was mixing well. It took him too long to calm down, to get his breathing right, to push himself up and go back into the bar.
He tried to look for Peter, searching the corners and booths, but the crowd of people, the loud music, the chattering voices was just overwhelming now. He was overstimulated, unable to find his friend. He gave up, going back out towards the street as he called him.
“Hello?” Peter’s voice came through loud and clear. No background noise behind him.
“Where did you run off to?” James asked, head still swiveling around looking for him outside. “I can’t find you.”
“I left,” he explained. “I saw you making out with that blonde dude in the corner. I assumed you wouldn’t need a ride home.”
James’ shoulders fell. “I see.”
“Do you need a ride?” Peter asked. “I can double back for you.”
“No, no,” James shook his head. “You go home, Pete. I’ll see you later.”
“Get home safe,” he called cheerfully before hanging up.
James stared at his phone screen, feeling the wavering of his gravity like a strong breeze. The words in his phone going blurry as he managed to use the last of his comprehension to get himself a ride.
—
Upon arriving home, James rummaged through his liquor cabinet, trying to find that whiskey towards the back that he rarely touched. When he did find it, he poured himself what looked like a double on ice, taking it to his living room. He had left the lights off, they were hurting his eyes anyway. The glow of the city lights in the distance, their reflection across the lake, was just enough to navigate him to the couch where he collapsed onto his back, feet resting on the opposite end. He sipped his drink, unbuttoned his shirt, and scrolled through his call history. Counting nine outgoing calls he made to Seeker in the back of his ride home.
“Maybe just one more,” he murmured to himself. “If he doesn’t answer this time…” He’d drown himself in whiskey? Throw himself off his roof? He didn’t finish his thought. Instead, dialing the man’s number and holding the phone to his ear as he nursed another sip. There was one ring, two, three, four. So many that James’ rattled brain lost count and deemed it hopeless. He went to end the call.
But just as his finger hovered over the button, the receiver clicked. “James,” it said, the words rushed. “Are you okay?”
“What? Yeah,” he said, rushing to put it to his ear again. Tone too cheerful before the drink sludged through his veins again. His stomach growled with nausea. “Well, actually no. I’m not okay. I’m a bit… Well, I’m… did you get my voicemail?”
“I don’t listen to voicemail.”
“Oh. Of course you don’t,” James’ eyes fell closed, cursing himself. “For the best, probably. Because, you know?”
“I don’t know.”
James’ head spun. He felt like an idiot. He was an idiot. What was he doing? “I’m sorry. I’m not my most coherent right now.”
“You’re drunk,” Seeker surmised. He sighed hard. “Glad I picked up. Goodnight, James.”
“Wait, please,” he begged. “Please, talk to me. I need you.”
“Need me to what?” Seeker snapped. “Make you come? I’m sure you are more than capable of doing that on your own.”
“No,” he shook his head. “Just need you. Need to hear your voice. Make sure you’re okay.”
Seeker went uncharacteristically quiet. No smart remark at the ready. What spoke for him instead was the distant sound of crashing waves emanating from the background.
James didn’t know how to take it. Swallowing down whatever was left of his pride. “Where are you?”
He scoffed, “Hardly your business.”
“I know it’s not,” his shoulders sank. “It’s just that I can hear waves.”
“I’m on the beach.”
“And your client?” he managed to ask without bristling.
Seeker’s beat of silence felt judgmental. “Back up at the house. Asleep.”
James dared to picture it all. Seeker having been wrapped up in bed with some stranger, seeing James’ name on his phone screen. How he would have to unlace himself from the man’s side, pad quietly away to the beach to take the call. The imagery filled James with such a turbulent mix of emotions, not far off from the ocean that echoed in his ear. “Are you okay?” he asked barely above a whisper, hoping it was enough to express the depth of meaning.
“I’m fine, James,” Seeker sighed, frustrated. “This is my job.”
“I know it is, but still-”
“Still what?”
James bit down on his tongue, hating all the venom in Seeker’s voice. “I worry.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Yeah,” James breathed, working a hand through his dark hair, across his tired face where his stubble was growing in. He could feel the conversation sobering him. Stupid, entitled possessiveness quieting down to something weaker, needier. “Can you tell me something about yourself?”
“Like what?”
“Anything,” he shook his head. “What is…” he tried to think, but he could feel a headache coming on. He clenched his eyes tight, fighting through it. “What is something you loved as a child?”
“I should really let you go.”
“Please,” he begged, too exhausted to keep the desperation from bleeding through. “Please.”
Seeker held a pensive silence, the waves crashing behind him. “Ballet.”
“Ballet?” James blinked his eyes open. “Really?”
“I danced all throughout my childhood. Was in a company until my early twenties.”
James tried to picture it. That lithe frame making so much more sense. The refined set of his shoulders, the graceful curve of his neck. Of course, it made so much sense. “And you enjoyed it?”
“Yeah,” Seeker admitted with some difficulty. “Yeah, I did.”
James tried to memorize the vulnerability in his voice, wanting to drown in it. Never having thought he’d like it better than his cutting wit, but he did. “Why did you stop?”
“Complicated.”
“I can follow.”
“You can’t.”
James worked a piece of his hair between his fingers, staring up at the gray of his dark ceiling. “Was it about money?” he asked, voice going softer. “Because maybe I could find you a studio in the city. Pay for you to take some classes.”
Seeker’s words bit out, “So you can get some pics of me in tights?”
“No,” James shook his head. “You don’t have to send me anything. I just want you to do something that makes you happy.”
The bite in the man’s voice died down and when he spoke again, he sounded like something had exhausted in him too. “It’s not about money, James,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry,” he clenched with regret, embarrassment. “I just thought maybe-”
“It’s fine. No need to apologize.”
James half-expected to be hurried off the phone, surprised when he wasn’t. When the sound of those crashing waves sustained through Seeker’s quiet. He licked at the residual whiskey on his lips. “How is it there?” he asked. “Are you having… fun?”
Seeker sighed, “You ever been fucked on a yacht before?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“You’re missing out,” he said, but his tone was flat, inflectionless. As if his thoughts were somewhere distant.
They went quiet again. James closed his eyes, listening to the waves in the background. Trying to picture them, but they felt obscure. Ambiguous. “Can you tell me what it’s like?” he whispered.
“The sex?”
“No, the beach. Right now. Can you describe it for me? I want to picture it like I’m there.”
It felt like Seeker might take the opportunity to turn him down again, until he started to speak. “The night sky looks like one big canvas painted oil spill black, pin pricked with holes to let the stars shine through. If I stayed out here long enough, I could tell you which constellations are which. Point out my favorites.”
“Mm,” James hummed, imagining a glint in his eyes when he’d get excited about something. He wondered what color they were. Warm brown or eccentric green. Perhaps a pure blue. Like the ocean. Yeah, blue. That would suit him. “I’d like that.”
“The tide is high, sand foamy where the waves crash and meet my feet. But the water is warmer than you’d think. It’s tempting, even if the horizon looks a black hole that could swallow me if I swim out too far.”
“Don’t do it,” James whimpered. “Don’t get swept away.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“With great difficulty?”
“Yes,” he breathed.
James felt himself go warm as if the water was at his feet, as if he was swimming through it. Feeling it everywhere. “Me too. But I don’t care anymore.”
Another sustained quiet. More crashing waves. Twice as long now as it seemed that Seeker had nothing left to say.
James ran a hand through his hair again, nails roughly scraping against his scalp. “I just like you so much, Seeker,” he whispered.
“Regulus,” the man corrected, voice lacking that brash confidence he typically made sound easy. “You can call me Regulus.”
“Wait,” James sat up as fast as he could from the couch like he’d been doused in cold water. “Hold on. Is that your real name?” His head spun, feeling like he was granted something special and not knowing what to do with it.
The man went quiet again like it was a force of habit by now, but James could have sworn that he felt anxiety buzzing through the phone.
“Who calls you Regulus?” he asked.
“What do you mean? My friends? Or-”
“I mean of your clients,” he clarified. “Which of them get to call you by your real name?”
There was a weak sound in the high of the man’s throat. “A few,” he croaked.
James’ smile stretched wide across his face, his cheeks aching as he felt the laugh bubble up from his chest. “You’re an awful liar, Regulus.”
He went quiet again, not laughing. Not confirming. Not denying. He sighed. “I should let you go.”
“Wait-”
“Have a good night, James,” he said, firmly before the line went dead. No more crashing waves, no more anxious silences, no more Seeker.