The Gazebo
Author: wanderingsmith & Jolien
Started jul 2020
Summary: Goodnight has a gazebo that needs fixing. Billy is a
professional™.
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to
pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I
play with 'em..
AN: One more rises from the depths of our co-authored
fanfiction folder. Written 2017.
-s-e-x-s-e-x-s-e-x-s-e-x-
WARNING -s-e-x-s-e-x-s-e-x-s-e-x-
Goodnight made his way across the green with his heart beating hard and his
palms sweaty in the pockets of his sweatpants. They felt slicker with every
step he took towards the trees that lined his late uncle’s giant – and,
considering the local climate, outrageously green – property. Because here,
in the shade, stood a small gazebo which had once been his great-great-aunts
pride and joy.
Once upon a time, the delicately carved structure had been the jewel of the
garden, until it had fallen into disrepair under the lackadaisical care of
her sons and grandsons. Now it had passed into new hands. Along with the
mansion behind and the woods before him, both of which called a rush of
childhood memories to the surface he’d much rather forget.
Selling was the logical thing to do. The past dwelt on him enough for
several lifetimes of men, he didn’t want to dwell on it in return any more
than necessary. The moment the ownership papers had passed into his hand,
he’d put the property up for sale.
To his mother’s horror, there was already a buyer making a generous offer:
an eccentric young lawyer lady from New Orleans. Provided that the gazebo
she’d heard so much about from her own relatives in the area was fixed up,
she was ready to sign the contract at the end of the week.
Goodnight had secured the services of a specialist on restoration work –
only the second best in the area, but available immediately – who just
happened to be a well-muscled Korean guy with sinfully dark eyes. For two
days, the man had been at work in his backyard; Goodnight had been able to
keep himself from watching him through the window for exactly half an hour.
The sight that greeted him now would make the most firmly convinced owner
re-consider any plans of giving this up.
The man – Billy – spotted him immediately, face lighting up subtly; or so
Goodnight chose to see. He set down the beam he’d been lifting with such
delightful muscle-shifts, wiped his brow and stepped over his dark blue
toolbox. He was clad in a dirty wife-beater, sweaty and covered in sawdust,
with strong legs covered in tight-fitting ripped jeans that flirted with the
tops of his scuffed combat boots.
The very definition of eye-candy, in Goodnight’s books, and even knowing he
was about to speak bad news, his knees went a little weak.
“Hey,” said Billy.
Goodnight cleared his throat. “Uh. Hey.”
“Everything okay?”
“That, uh. Well, that would rather depend upon the definition of it.”
Goodnight took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “As it happens,
that is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about, Mr. Rocks.”
The man’s eyes narrowed.
Alright, Goodnight thought. Here goes nothing. “To keep things simple... uh.
You might know I haven’t been in the city for long, with my uncle’s death
hitting us so suddenly, and this inheritance -,” he pointed a thumb at the
mansion behind him, “– coming somewhat unexpected. I, uh. I haven’t exactly
had a chance to look around town yet. Or go to the bank... yet. I wasn’t
aware it’s closed today.”
Confusion flickered across the other’s face, as if he wasn’t quite clear on
what that had to do with him.
“I’m very sorry,” Goodnight stammered, feeling his cheeks heat. “I can’t pay
you tonight.”
Billy’s eyes darkened in understanding. His eyebrows drew together.
Goodnight shifted uncomfortably, not quite knowing what to do with his
hands. As soon as the man in front of him opened his mouth to reply, he
blurted out: “I’m going to pay you, of course. First thing tomorrow, as soon
as the tellers open. And in the meantime –”
He swallowed hard. “In the meantime I’ll be happy to offer you anything I
possibly can as compensation for the wait.”
With baited breath, he waited for that twitch in Billy’s face, that little
tug of amusement at the corner of his mouth. Once he saw it, Goodnight
sidled carefully closer, batting his eyelashes. “Anything at all, Mr.
Rocks.”
Billy’s face shifted from stoic to considering. “Well,” he began, giving
Goodnight a slow once-over. “You’ll still need to pay me, of course. But
right now,” he slowly wiped his hands on his wife-beater, and then, with a
quick movement, pulled it over his head. “Right now I just happen to be
wound so tight any kind of relief would be greatly appreciated.”
Goodnight snorted softly, affable grin firmly in place as he tried to keep
from drooling at the perfect chest – smooth, chiselled, glistening warmly in
the afternoon sun – revealed before him, within reach of his touch. “Oh,
please. No need to overwhelm me with your appreciation or faith.”
“Not planning to do either,” Billy purred. He hooked his thumbs into his
belt loops, far more musculature flexing than the action seemed to strictly
call for, not that Goodnight was complaining. “Now, Mr. Robicheaux, you
offered some compensation for not being able to pay me right away?”
Goodnight shivered under the heat of his gaze. He nodded enthusiastically,
taking the pose and words as an invitation to get up close into the
carpenter’s personal space. “Certainly. Whatever your interest, I’ll gladly
cover it.”
“Whatever?”, Billy drawled, eyes glinting curiously. “Right here in the
open, where everyone could see?”
A shudder trickled down Goodnight’s spine. “What ‘everyone’ do you see,
exactly?”
He glanced around the property. His gaze was drawn to the freshly carved
logs so recently hammered into place to form a rustically-railed hexagon.
Each corner was backed by a small, trunk-sized log, with pointed-up
roof-beams just waiting for thatch. Nicely rounded railings connected the
structure, downright comfortable-looking... Goodnight turned a teasingly
doubtful look on the other, barely catching the glimmer of pride in Billy’s
eyes as he beheld the construction. “Are you sure it’s solid? Shouldn’t this
be given a few structural tests?”
Billy was on him before he could finish his rather transparent invitation.
He pushed Goodnight back against a roof beam, using his superior body-weight
to pin him there, and caged him with a thigh between his knees and his
fingers on the railings.
“This gazebo will outlast you, unless a nuclear strike gets it first,” he
growled.
Goodnight’s eyes widened at the sound, eyes going wide. His parted lips felt
dry, all of a sudden, breath going quicker with surprise. Even though he’d
practically been throwing himself at the man mere moments before, he hadn’t
quite expected such a swift reaction. Had Billy been feeling the same
toe-curling attraction that had Goodnight’s heart hammering in his throat?
There were pleasant surprises – and then there were walking wet dreams.
Getting backed into a corner by a wall of already-heated, sweat-slick
muscles? Next level. Definitely.
Goodnight tried to shift without making too obvious what the developments
had done to his lower half. He could feel Billy’s calluses on his wrists,
trapping him against the well-sanded wood. He raised a leg and crooked it up
behind his so-skilled carpenter’s thighs to jerk him forward until the last
inches between them melted away in the summer heat.
Billy was hard in his pants. Goodnight could feel the heat and fullness of
his chub through both of their jeans.
“You’re not the first one to want to... ascertain they got their money’s
worth before paying me,” Billy rumbled, inching closer until his naked chest
touched Goodnight’s shirt, hard nipples brushing up against the fabric. “So
if you’re not concerned about any surprise visitors out here, be my guest.
Test away until you’re thoroughly satisfied.”
Breath catching as the welcome pressure had his cock swelling up even more,
Goodnight tugged a little harder with his leg, leaning his head forward to
lick, teasing, at the fine line of hairs over the man’s lip. “Well, you
certainly offer good lip service. And your materials look to be of the
highest quality.”
Amusement shone in Billy’s eyes. He might have said more, but with their
lips so close there was really only one thing to do: give in to temptation
and tilt his head. Goodnight met him halfway, tightening his grip on the man
as he kissed him. It was close-mouthed, soft warm lips sliding against each
other surprisingly gently, feeling out the shape of what was growing between
them in that moment – testing, inching towards something more heated.
Goodnight opened his lips, but to his frustration, Billy drew back.
Mirth curled his lips. “Our company stands for outstanding work from the
beginning to the very end,” he said. His hand slid further to grip
Goodnight’s ass, giving it a firm squeeze that drew him down onto Billy’s
thigh at the same time. “We like to pay special attention to each client,
because fulfilling their every need is our pleasure.”
Somewhere between that growly purr sending shivers down his spine and the
raspy promise of that smoothly-delivered line, Goodnight’s mouth dropped
open. He could usually hold his own at seduction, but as he took the
invitation to ground down on that rough, jean-covered limb and watched the
carpenter’s eyes narrow with arousal on his obviously-tented,
paint-spattered sweatpants, he had the distinct feeling of being out of his
league. It was... a thrilling discovery.
Goodnight tightened his grip on the railing and shimmied his ass down a
little, not missing the impressive flex of muscle as the fellow shifted
under him. A slow grin quirked his lips, trailing his eyes happily down that
fucking amazing chest, sawdust stuck to it and all. He stopped on the very
nice shape filling out those heavy-duty workman’s pants. “You’re doing a
bang-up job, up to now, Mr. Rocks,” he assured, somewhat out of breath, his
hips starting to shift, shamelessly rubbing his crotch into his hard perch.
“I still owe you a deposit on what you’ve earned, regardless of... the
longevity of this... perfectly-assembled wood.”
Billy chuckled, apparently willing to concede that, yeah, that was a good
one. He shifted a little to support the slightly awkward but very satisfying
position they were in, eyes slipping shut as it brought Goodnight snug
against him, both fumbling a bit until they found comparable rhythms. “Don’t
worry about that. I’m sure you will make the arrangements to our mutual
satisfaction, Mr. Robicheaux.”
The summer breeze swirled around them, carrying with it the smell of the
blooming garden, but it couldn’t dispel the carpenter’s own scent, rising
from his heated skin: old wood and resin, steel tools and a hard day’s work;
all of it far more alluring than any flowers.
Goodnight bit down on a groan. The fact that this gorgeous man seemed
perfectly happy to have Goodnight rub off against his thigh was enough to
take his breath away.
They were panting harshly against each other’s mouths now, grinding into one
another. Billy snaked a hand down between them to slip it into Goodnight’s
pants without moving away. It was a tight fit. Goodnight’s soft underwear
was embarrassingly damp already. Billy had to be able to feel it as he
rubbed it, chasing the touch of hot flesh.
“Now tell me,” he murmured, a hair’s width away from sealing his lips to
Goodnight’s again, “Does my work pass your inspection?”
This time, the teasing ‘Mr. Rocks’ didn’t withhold access to his mouth when
Goodnight dove for him, leaning in to lick and forgetting himself and
closing his teeth on his bottom lip as the man’s hand closed around his cock
through his underwear and squeezed too damn lightly. Just as well, the man’s
‘work’ was indeed skilled: Goodnight’s fingers were going to lose their grip
on their very solid railing pretty soon.
But he’d been hoping for more than just a hand job, if he were honest.
Billy’s mouth trailed down to suck on his neck. “Have I rendered you
speechless?”, he inquired playfully, giving the cock a firmer squeeze. “Or
do you require firmer assertion?”
Goodnight really just wanted to tilt his neck back, invite more of that
sucking. Those teeth. Those words. He wanted to ride those fingers and to
hell with everything. But damned if any Robicheaux was going to just lay
back without giving as good as they took.
He hitched his leg higher on the man’s waist, pushing onto the railing to
sit himself up firmly. He got his hands on Billy’s shoulders – those
sinfully round, strong shoulders – to hold himself in place, glad for his
looser sweats adjusting to the new angle of Rocks’ hand. Grinning and warmed
by the soft humour the man had worn up to now, he drawled: “Just making sure
I gave full consideration to the results. And I’m thinking any good
structure has to be flexible enough to bend under severe conditions.”
He could see Billy’s mouth twitch at that, trying to hold back a laugh. “I
see you’re not only an expert in the arts but business as well. Fair enough.
I’ll be happy to lend a hand wherever I can. Or am I already?”
He gave his cock a squeeze and Goodnight could, off the top of his head,
think of at least seven different things he wanted Rocks to test his
flexibility over.
“Now, Mr. Robicheaux. Shall we begin?”
Goodnight snorted at the formality. “Goodnight, please.”
He leaned forward and pushed his tongue into Billy’s mouth, fingers tangling
in his beautiful dark hair. It was damp with sweat, perfect to hold onto
with one hand while the other dove between them to carefully unsnap those
lovely tight working jeans before lowering the zipper. It was a struggle to
fit in between the cloth and – goddamn, he was a lucky bastard – a hell of a
lot of swollen flesh.
Billy sighed softly, flexing his cock against the teasing touch. He let go
of Goodnight’s dick and slid his hand around to stroke two fingers down the
crack of his ass. The move brought them even closer together, trapping
Goodnight’s hand between them.
Licking down the side of Goodnight’s neck and lower between his collarbones,
Billy dipped his tongue into the ‘V’ of Goodnight’s shirt. “Hmm,” he hummed,
scratching lightly at Goodnight’s tailbone. “In my expert’s opinion, this
setup might benefit from a slight repositioning.”
He exerted a little bit of pressure against the pucker, chuckling when he
felt it tense.
Goodnight groaned, nails digging into skin. “Fuck this,” he hissed. “You
know where the bedroom is. Just, just... ah, fuck.”
Billy laughed, all white teeth and victory. “As you wish, Mr. Robicheaux.”
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