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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: NC-17. Bondage, d/s.
Pairing: Keanu Reeves/Gavin Rossdale/Djimon Hounsou
Feedback: Good lines, typos, etc.
Disclaimer: Completely fictional. I have no idea what actually happened on Constantine’s set or in these people’s private lives.
Notes: Partially inspired by this interview. I assume that they shot all Rossdale’s scenes around the same time.
Summary: Porn. Porn, porn, porn. It’s a nice word.
***
*Straddled? Like he was on top and you were about to get ridden into next week?* Gwen says. She sounds like she’s bouncing and a shivery wet sound comes over the line, like her mouth is right up against the phone, lips pulling back from her white teeth. Hungry as a wolf.
Gavin checks his watch again. Even for rock stars, it’s pretty damn late for that. “Uh. Yeah. Only he was trying to pulp my face with these blessed knuckledusters, and we aren’t making a porno.”
*Too bad.* Oh, now she’s purring and the little reminder about how good Catholic girls aren’t supposed to think that way has slid right past her. Gwen’s little giggle normally gets to him like that and after today’s workout he’s already having a hard time jazzing down, so he’s starting to get real uncomfortable in his corner.
He shifts around, tugs at the crotch of his jeans and thanks God that Wardrobe’s already reclaimed his outfit because those trousers definitely wouldn’t keep a secret. A quick peek around the corner tells him that most of the crew’s gone, so nobody’s probably going to come wandering down this hallway. “Baby? You’re starting to scare me.”
*No, I’m not. I just miss you.* Her voice dips down, low and sweet with all the tease sucked out of it, and the middle of Gavin’s chest gets a little tight. Then Gwen giggles again, and this time he clearly hears her tongue flicking against the mouthpiece. *And I used to have a little crush on Keanu—did I ever mention that?*
“No.” He’s not jealous. By the time they met up, he and Gwen each already had had a few gos around the boom-bust cycle, and he knows what they’ve got is damn good so he isn’t about to spoil it by nitpicking. He’d worked that out even before he’d bemusedly watched the lesson in relationships Little Black Book had had to offer.
And besides, Keanu’s cool. He’s really nothing like what Gavin had expected: generous and laidback away from the camera, and then intense as a laser beam when he’s on set. He’d actually scared the shit out of Gavin a couple times today, which Gavin hopes his accent is going to cover up in the film. But whatever he’s like when he’s in a character’s headspace, he’d never, ever try to fuck around with anyone in real life.
*Yeah. I did, way back. It had a little bounce, a little resurrection when I saw Matrix. He makes trenchcoats look good. Hey, so how are they dressing him in this one?*
Like a working-class vamp that Gavin really wouldn’t mind…he clears his throat and shifts his eyes around the empty hallway again. Fuck. He really misses Gwen, and what he probably needs to do is get her off the phone, get back to the hotel, and call her back for a more private conversation. “Like an undertaker. Black tie, white shirt, black trousers and coat…”
They’re only connected by a phone line and still she can read him like a book. *Like a sexy undertaker?*
Or at least he can get out of this white corridor that keeps reminding him of the scene in the horror movie where a girl walks down a hall late at night and has the killer jump out at her. Gavin rubs at the back of his neck, then pulls at the bottom of his t-shirt. It’s long and it probably covers most of what’s making his cheeks burn right now. “…maybe.”
*And he was straddling you.* Something about that just keeps bringing Gwen back.
Then again, Gavin can understand what she means. That kind of position is unequivocally commanding and when it’s someone as focused as Keanu in it, there’s no way anyone could look away. Gavin definitely couldn’t. All those damn prosthetics on his face had narrowed his vision down to Keanu, had half-gagged him, and the suit had been damnably hot and restraining beneath all the lights. And then there had been Keanu, knees jabbing into Gavin’s side, snarl on his face, with the corporate background to lend his derisive attitude some weight.
*Gavin?*
“Oh. Yeah! Sorry.” Gavin drops his head into his hand and presses against his eyes. He really, really needs to stop or else he’s going to end up wanking off right here. Movie sets aren’t like rock concerts, or like making music videos; movie sets have this distinct brisk, professional air that lurks even behind the goofing off, and while Gavin likes it he also respects it a hell of a lot. He wouldn’t precisely say he’s intimidated by it. Not that much. He’d just rather not make a fool out of himself right when he’s starting to get roles that aren’t just cameos.
Gwen’s not even saying anything now. She’s just purring.
“Love you, babe. I’ll call when I get back to my room, all right?” And then they were going to have a nice, long talk about her crush.
*Have fun,* she murmurs. *Do what I’d do, okay?*
He laughs as he thumbs off the phone, and he’s still laughing when he steps out to nearly smack into Keanu.
“Whoa!” Keanu raises his hands to act as a buffer, but Gavin’s already stumbling backwards and apologizing. And tripping over his damn feet so Keanu has to grab him anyway.
It’s a small hallway so Gavin bumps into the wall. He winces—he hit the table a little hard during one take—and scoots forward only to stomp Keanu’s toes. Back against the wall, back to flinching. Eventually Keanu just takes him by the arms and pins him in place till Gavin can catch his breath. Regaining his composure isn’t so easy; Gavin is blushing hard and he’s got nowhere to hide it.
“You okay?” Keanu asks.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just…just need to turn in early, I guess.” Gavin gives the other man a deprecating smile and pretends that he is not red as Gwen’s favorite lipstick shade. He puts up his hands and pats at Keanu’s arms, trying to subtly signal that he can stand on his own now. Then he notices Keanu’s still wearing the Constantine suit, though minus the tie and coat. “Are you still filming? I thought—”
Shaking his head, Keanu chuckles. “Nah. I handed over half of it, but then I got into this talk with Francis and by the time I was done, all the Wardrobe people had gone home. It’s no big deal—I think they buy my stuff off the rack. Anyway, it’ll be cool to walk around in John’s clothes. See what his shoes feel like after a long day.”
As always, Gavin has to marvel at Keanu’s dedication. “Jesus. You never stop, do you?”
Keanu laughs again. “God, I hope I do. Otherwise I’d be one of those multiple-personality psychos you hear about. But it’s nice once in a while, you know…”
Suddenly his whole stance changes: his back straightens and the slouch of his shoulders slants from casual to resigned, rounding forward so he looms even though he’s only an inch taller. His eyes go flat and hard, the corners of his lips twist downwards and his hands move aggressively up Gavin’s triceps. He leans in and Gavin’s automatically shrinking back.
“Nice to just borrow somebody’s head for a trip. Most people don’t use theirs anyway,” Keanu mutters. His voice has deepened, roughened so his consonants scrape shivers up Gavin’s back. He splays his fingers around Gavin’s arms and shoves Gavin further against the wall, tilting his head so his whisper snakes up the side of Gavin’s face.
It’s unnervingly convincing. For a moment Gavin can even swear that Keanu had licked him, only Keanu finishes drawing his head up beside Gavin’s and the cool air that isn’t Keanu’s breath hits Gavin’s dry skin. So nope, no tongue. “Keanu?”
Dry chuckle and Keanu moves closer, body angling with an exhausted grace that doesn’t characterize the man at all. The muscles tighten right behind Gavin’s jaw so Gavin almost can’t swallow. “…John? Constantine?”
The other man looks down at Gavin through half-lidded, contemptuous eyes. Then his expression cracks to reveal a mischievous, relaxed face that Gavin thankfully recognized. Snickering like a twelve-year-old, Keanu lets go of Gavin’s arms and takes a step back. “Just fucking with you a little, man. Sorry. But you had this look, back when we were filming the first take in Midnite’s office, and I just wanted to see if I was right about that.”
“What, like I was scared shitless? I was. You’re good,” Gavin shakily says. It’s a joke. Just a joke, and actually it was pretty funny. “Balthazar can stand up to more than I can.”
“Yeah, you think?” Keanu glances at the floor, not for any particular reason, and then he does a double-take on the way back up. His head stays down, but his eyes flick up to inquire what the fuck at Gavin.
Oh, shit. Gavin tries to take a giant step backwards, but he fails since yes, the wall is still there. He opens his mouth to give some bullshit explanation and a bit of hair falls into his eye. It’s still slicked up with the gobs of gel they put in it and it stings, so he lifts his hand to brush it back. “I, ah, was just on the phone with Gwen—”
Only there’s another hand tucking his hair back, and while it’s there, it grabs onto his wrist as well. His hand thumps against the wall and like an idiot he freezes while Keanu smoothly comes forward, catching Gavin’s other wrist and pinning it up against the wall on the other side of Gavin’s head. Keanu’s eyebrow goes up as his leg bumps tentatively at Gavin’s…at that fucking half-erection that’s well on its way to completely turning Gavin’s night upside-down. “I don’t know. I think you’re standing up pretty good.”
“That’s because you’re holding me up,” Gavin blurts out. He winces as soon as the words come out because they’re so stupid. And yet true, because Keanu’s thigh isn’t exactly getting away from Gavin’s prick, and Gavin has to bite back a moan when Keanu presses even closer.
“So…” The word doesn’t come out quite Keanu—at least, not the Keanu that Gavin’s known so far. He sounds much more speculative, something like how John Constantine might be if they really had been making a porno and that ‘finger-lickin’ good’ line had gone a little differently. “Is this Balthazar here? Because I gotta say, I did wonder at some of his lines.”
Gavin really, badly wants to squirm. If he squirms, then his prick can get some friction going between his jeans and Keanu’s thigh. But also if he squirms, then there’s a good chance that Keanu might take that as encouragement. And Gavin is teetering on the edge of doing something spectacularly…shocking, anyway. He wants to. He doesn’t think Gwen would mind, too much, but he’s still hesitating. He doesn’t want to, well, fuck this up. He likes acting, and he wants to do more, but he wants things separate. Not complicating each other. Which this might. “I don’t think Balthazar meant for John to get him on a table and then torch him.”
That was supposed to sound neutral and light. Instead it sounds breathy and a little bit begging, and now Gavin’s staring at Keanu’s dark, dark eyes, which pupils are flaring wide like Keanu’s a hair away from…Keanu shakes himself hard. “Gavin? I’m all for getting into characters’ heads, but I won’t use that as an excuse to hide from real life. Your wife—”
“—might see this movie just for the scene where you’re on top of me.” Once again, Gavin’s mouth has lost control. He goes stiff before the last words have even finished shooting from his lips, bracing himself for the freaked-out reaction.
Instead, Keanu just raises both eyebrows. He’s thinking, but he keeps it well behind an unreadable deadpan. “Oh,” he says. “That’s supportive.”
“Thanks,” Gavin distractedly replies. He’s about to say something else, something stupid, but before that happens he’s being kissed like Keanu wants him to break his damn knees.
Good thing Keanu’s supportive, for that matter, because Gavin’s lower body is more or less a lost cause. He slumps against the wall and tries to keep up because damn it, it’s been a long, long time since he was a virgin, but Keanu is too far ahead. When Gavin opens his mouth Keanu’s already lewdly wriggling his tongue in it; Gavin licks hard across the top of Keanu’s mouth and Keanu is sucking a bruise to life in Gavin’s lower lip. He pushes hard, forcing Gavin’s head back against the wall, and fucks Gavin’s mouth. His tongue isn’t nearly wide enough to fill up Gavin’s mouth but somehow it feels as if that’s what Keanu is doing. Hard, fast, promising a hell of a lot.
By the time Keanu finally lets up, Gavin’s hanging from his pinned wrists. He twists and shoves against Keanu’s leg, damn near humping it, but he can’t get the right angle, the right pressure, the right whatever the hell. And Keanu’s laughing, licking hot down the side of Gavin’s face. “Oh, fuck, this is going to be good.”
“Not if you don’t let me—” Gavin yanks at his wrists, tries to throw himself forward “—move so—”
Smooth as butter, Keanu’s right back in his face. Nips Gavin’s chin to force it back as his whole body slides up and down in a brutal tease. “Do you really want me to do that?”
Stomach, thigh, bulging erection…Gavin’s jeans might as well not be there for all the good they do. They keep his prick down and trapped while not doing anything to hide what grinds over it. “Fuck…”
Teeth in his ear when he moves. He swears and they score his throat, chew up and down like a cat tormenting a terrified mouse. He groans and they suck hard so he can feel his pulse surge to meet Keanu’s mouth. Goes limp and Keanu purrs just like Gwen. “Good. And damn. I wish I’d hung on to my tie.”
Gavin’s not exactly uninformed. His mouth goes dry. His prick makes an aborted leap against his jeans; he can feel a tiny bit of stickiness already leaking from the tip.
“Tie? Why do you need a—oh. I see.” Fingers are amusedly steepling in that voice. “Keanu. This is a public hallway.”
Though Djimon must be channeling more than a little of Midnite, because he’s smiling like he sees this all the time. Keanu doesn’t even stop, just keeps swirling his tongue lower and lower till he’s mouthing along Gavin’s collar, sticking the cotton to Gavin’s flushed, prickling skin with his spit. If Gavin’s blushing, then it’s hidden behind all the color that’s come up due to Keanu’s cock-teasing. “Jesus. Do you actors just wander around after hours waiting to—to—oh, Christ.”
Little patch of skin under Gavin’s jaw, just where it joins his throat. Gwen’s favorite weak spot, and now Keanu’s after Gavin starts shuddering. “Yeah, we get to seduce British rock stars all the time,” he rasps, roughly mouthing that spot. His canine catches on the edge of Gavin’s jaw, rakes hard over and down, and Gavin produces this desperate whiny sound he doesn’t think he’s made since he saw his first guitar. “Bet Midnite’s got cameras in his alleys. Could make a nice buck off those tapes.”
“Midnite, at least, is prepared,” Djimon coolly retorts. “Someone in Props filled up a glass jar with lube and stuck it in with the rest of the conjure items.”
Keanu snorts. Then he drops his head onto Gavin’s shoulder and has himself a good, long laugh that makes him vibrate not nearly enough against Gavin. He’s banging against Gavin’s prick and God, it’s so hard that it should be able to just bust out of the damn denim. But it can’t, and Gavin’s hips are mindlessly jerking around now, moving towards the slightest touch in hopes that he can get off. He wrenches his head around and bites at Keanu’s neck, trying to get the other man up and back to business.
Instead he gets two hands pinioning his hips. His cock is screaming and the frustration is knotting Gavin into insensibility, but he can’t move.
Can’t move. Two hands on his wrists. Two…he blearily looks up to see Djimon talking to Keanu. “You can’t do it here.”
“And Midnite’s got that big, nice desk. Think it’s dark enough to hide the stains?” Keanu says. He glances at Gavin, then looks longer. Gives Gavin a long, soft kiss that leaves Gavin limp against the wall. “You game?”
“What?” Djimon, Gavin belatedly remembers. “Oh. Uh.”
Keanu dips to slurp sweat from Gavin’s jaw, ending up in another deep, bone-melting kiss. He chuckles into Gavin’s mouth as Gavin groans, tries to move and can’t. “Oh, good. Djimon’s fun. It’s too bad you guys only had that one scene together.”
“And you’re greedy,” Djimon says, rolling his eyes. He steps back and Gavin’s hips instantly jerk forward.
But Keanu’s also stepped backward so all Gavin bucks into is thin air, and while Gavin’s mind is struggling with that puzzle, Keanu is dragging him by his wrists. He’s off-balance from the first step and never regains it, not even when they reach the dim set that is Midnite’s office and Keanu off-handedly pushes him towards Djimon. “Hang on a moment. I’m gonna find the lights.”
Gavin is dazed, but Djimon is cool and controlled as the character he plays. He twines his arms around Gavin’s, and in a second Gavin’s arms are neatly twisted up behind his back. Djimon leans against the desk, making something fall over as he does, and easily pulls Gavin up so his elbows and shoulders complain violently. He slides up Djimon so Djimon’s knees smoothly move between Gavin’s legs and Gavin is forced onto tip-toe, swaying precariously on spread legs. “Christ.”
“No, God. And the first day of creation,” floats Keanu’s voice from somewhere. Some of the lights flick on and Keanu comes walking around a corner, only to stop. He’s staring at Gavin and Djimon, slack-jawed like they’re wearing geisha gear. Then he shakes himself and makes a beeline for them. “Damn. And you’re not even undressed.”
“Right. About that. Can we fix that?” Gavin gasps. Keanu’s hands are the first to touch him, knuckles sliding along the outside seam of Gavin’s jeans. They go up, circle around his waistband, then drag down to outline his throbbing prick. “Fuck.”
Hot mouth grazing at the hollow between his collarbones. “Try again.”
“What? What the—oh, God. God. Please. God.” Gavin struggles feebly in Djimon’s grip, but all he does is get a better feel for the hard-on nestling against his ass. And Keanu keeps sucking at his nipple, rubbing the cotton of Gavin’s t-shirt over the hardening bit of flesh. By the time he’s done teasing it to a peak, he can just blow air at it and Gavin will moan. “Please.”
He can hear his fly going down, but Keanu slips in a hand immediately to keep Gavin’s prick pressed down till he’s slowly peeled Gavin’s jeans down to his knees. Now Gavin’s alternating his pleas with every single curse-word he can remember.
“Yeah, we can probably do that,” Keanu says.
And Gavin has no idea what he’s just suggested, he didn’t even realize he’s suggested something, and given what Keanu’s managed to do so far, Gavin is pretty near terrified. He doesn’t even notice what Djimon’s doing until Djimon’s letting go of his arms and Gavin comes within a hair of just puddling on the floor because something’s around his wrists and he can’t stop himself.
Keanu catches him, holds him up and savages the hell out of his mouth while Djimon moves out from behind him. Then they’ve got Gavin spun around and black cotton is muffling his head because Keanu’s pulled up his shirt, only to get distracted halfway and Christ. Apparently there’s a direct line from Gavin’s left nipple to his cock, because Keanu nibbles and Gavin’s prick jumps, not caring that it’s snagged a bit on his fly. He’s going to suffocate and he’s having a really hard time caring because hands are rubbing up his thighs, kneading closer and closer to his prick and he thinks, he thinks, he prays…
…but no, at the last moment Keanu does a run-around and Gavin can only whimper in disappointment. His shirt is suddenly whipped over his head and gets bunched down around his wrists, over whatever Djimon’s snagged to tie those together, and he gets a good look at Keanu’s wide smile.
“Hang on a moment,” Keanu says.
Gavin’s lip is swollen and hurting by now, but he chews on it anyway. “Fuck you.”
“Smartass.” Keanu drops to his knees and takes Gavin’s prick between his index and middle finger. He cocks his head and gives it a look that sends blood pooling down there so Gavin’s head floats up, up and away. “You really want me to put this in my mouth, right?”
“Please?” Gavin whines, suddenly out of breath again. His knees are shaking and he does not, goddamn it, want to move away from Keanu, but he needs to find the table edge. He bends as little as possible in order to get a grip on it and stay up. “You fucking pissant of a tease, would you just—”
And Keanu leans forward, and he gives the tip of Gavin’s prick the kind of smacking kiss you would your dear auntie. Only it’s like running an electric shock through Gavin’s body. His knees buckle and dear God, Keanu just uses that to let Gavin’s prick slide all the way into his mouth. It’s burning and wet so there should be fucking steam coming from somewhere, only Keanu’s still so composed he can hum. Gavin bangs his forearms on the table-edge, his feet shuffling madly for balance and only getting more tangled up in his jeans.
“Found it,” Djimon says. God knew where he’d been, but he’s dangling a jar of something that looks like dyed Vaseline, and Keanu’s eyes are sparkling madly over Gavin’s cock.
“Please,” Gavin hisses.
But Keanu eases off of Gavin’s prick, idly swirling his fingertip in the spit he leaves behind so Gavin swears and whimpers, and he slams back Gavin’s hips when Gavin tries to buck. He stands up, puts his hands on Gavin’s shoulders, and seriously asks, “Hey, have you ever gone down on someone before?”
Gavin just stares at him. Djimon’s really a sensible man; if he hadn’t tied Gavin’s wrists together, Gavin definitely would have killed Keanu by now. Suddenly Balthazar’s needling makes a lot more sense.
Keanu pulls back his lips as he smiles, feral the same way Gwen is when she’s feeling pouncy. He suddenly spins Gavin around and tips him onto the table; Djimon’s moved around to catch Gavin’s head and keep him from breaking his jaw.
And then they don’t do anything. The desk is just wide enough so Gavin’s balls and prick are crushed into one side, and his chin rests awkwardly on the edge of the other. He’s close to eye-level with the considerable bulge in Djimon’s trousers, and cool air is blowing over his sweaty arse. His arms are locked up from wrist to elbow, his ankles are wrapped up in unforgiving denim. All in all, he feels like a trussed-up pig. He can’t help shuddering.
He twists around to see what Keanu’s doing: pulling his shirt-tails free of his trousers and undoing his fly. Gavin shivers again and Keanu lightly smacks his arse, sending Gavin jerking up like he’s been shocked. Then Keanu leans over and licks over the spot, which puts Gavin right back into moaning limpness.
“Well, whatever you’re up to doing. Djimon gets off just by watching, too,” Keanu says, just before he drops down again and oh, no, he’s not—he is. His tongue swerved up and around the twitching rim of the hole, and now it’s fucking Gavin’s arse like it’d fucked Gavin’s mouth earlier.
And Gavin has to drag his head around, lie it flat because he’s shaking hard enough to break his own neck if he doesn’t watch out. His eyes go back to Djimon, who’s casually undoing his trousers and pulling out his prick, hands deftly moving over it. Gavin’s eyes get stuck there and he has the weirdest feeling that those hands are actually moving over his own sorely-neglected cock.
“Keanu, someday someone is going to shut you up hard for what you say,” Djimon sighs. He’s just in range, thinks the crazy part of Gavin’s brain that’s been mooning over Keanu ever since Gavin walked onto the set, that’s saying to hell with processing all this shit that Gavin’s never, ever actually done before though he’d heard about it. That wants him to spend his weekend off recovering in bed with icepacks at both ends, apparently.
“Already happened. It was fun. Couldn’t ride my bike for a week afterward, though.” A last lick, and then something longer, blunter, less yielding is probing at Gavin’s arse. Keanu presses himself along Gavin’s back, softly mouthing along Gavin’s shoulderblades. He nibbles at Gavin’s nape whenever his fingers start to pinch and hurt, soothing till Gavin’s relaxed enough for a little more. “Speaking of, I’ll stop by with breakfast tomorrow if you don’t want to deal with the room service.”
And in the middle of all this sensory overload, that somehow gets through to touch Gavin. He licks at his lips, has to stop and gasp as Keanu pokes something that makes stars, and then says, “Yeah. Sounds good. God, good thing I’m not in a trailer—”
Then he’s scooting back and Gavin instinctively—funny, because he didn’t think this kind of experience would be hardwired into people—is arching up into what’s coming. He’s still staring at Djimon, who’s finally beginning to look a little unhinged, and he thinks what the hell and awkwardly levers himself up to take Djimon’s cock in his mouth. Same time Keanu slams his prick into Gavin, and that’s a lot wider and longer and Jesus Christ. Gavin accidentally takes in more of Djimon’s prick than he’d planned on, and than he can really handle.
He starts to choke, but Djimon’s already got him by the chin and lifting so he can ease off, just suck on maybe a third of it. Gwen once told him, giggling through the whole bit, how girls learn to deep-throat and Gavin attempts to take her advice, but he’s really not all that focused because Keanu is fucking his brains out. He keeps sliding forward and back, knees jerking because goddamn it, deeper in that case is unequivocally better but his goddamn jeans won’t let him splay far enough.
Finally Djimon grabs him hard by the jaw, just doing it for Gavin, and that works. He hopes. He’s not exactly expert at this, and he still can’t take more than half, but Djimon’s hand has the rest covered and Djimon’s groaning doesn’t sound disappointed. Anyway, Gavin can’t think too much on that. He can’t think too much, period, because Keanu has gotten his hands beneath Gavin’s hips and has lifted them and that, that is the Angle. That lets Keanu fuck deep and fuck hard, and that spins Gavin’s mind out of control.
He’s rocking between them now, barely able to breathe because when Keanu’s not forcing little cries out of him, Djimon is crushing them back into his mouth, and it should be damned uncomfortable. Actually, it is uncomfortable: Gavin can feel the strain in his shoulders and back, can already feel the ache developing in his hips. But all that somehow merges into the sheer perfect grind and slide, clench and relax of it. It’s like that sweet groove when everything comes, and Gavin can just lose himself in it till suddenly his mouth is empty and his cheek is getting splattered, his body is shaking from arse up to head, and he’s coming on the wood. He’s getting fucked through his climax so his teeth rattle, and then through the aftershocks till he’s keening and twisting, squeezing his muscles till finally Keanu comes as well and lets Gavin settle into a nice collapse.
Djimon’s leaning against the wall, wheezing for breath. Keanu lies on top of Gavin for a few minutes before dragging himself off. The sensation of his prick sliding out of Gavin is a strange, almost painful sucking pull; Gavin whines in protest and Keanu laughs. “God.” He nudges Gavin further onto the desk so Gavin’s prick isn’t pressing into the edge anymore. “You know, I almost don’t want to clean you up. You look good like this.”
Gavin’s hair has flopped into his face so he has no idea of what he looks like. “Cheeky son of a bitch.”
“Hey. Any more of that and—what?” Some muffled ringing is coming from Gavin’s jeans and Keanu digs in them till he finds…Gavin’s cell.
Gavin lunges, but ends up banging his elbow to hell and back. And Keanu’s pressed a hand over his frantic hissing and is answering the phone. “Hello—oh, Gwen! This is Keanu—yeah, nice to hear from you again. Now to just meet in person…yeah, Gavin’s around. He’s…what? Oh, well, yeah, definitely. Yeah. He’s great. Hang on a moment—he’s right here.”
“Keanu!” snaps Djimon. He’s gone an odd ashy color.
As for Gavin, he’s just frozen.
And Keanu? Keanu shoots them both a look that says Jesus, calm down before you blow an artery. Then he grins at Gavin and holds out the phone so Gavin can hear.
*Hey, baby.* Gwen’s…not upset. Well, not raging—she does sound a little pouty. *I’ll forgive you for lying about going right to your suite if you remember to leave the phone on next time. No fair if you have all the fun.*
Gavin’s first reaction is to slump in relief. His second reaction’s to shake off Keanu’s hand and glare at the silently laughing bastard. ‘Nice to hear from you again’? He really needed to sit Gwen down when he got back and discuss a few things with her, like advance warning. “Sorry. I…it was all kind of spur of the moment. Didn’t mean to leave you out.”
*Just remember to call!* she trills, and then the cell clicks off.
“I should take a belt to you,” Djimon slowly says, staring hard at Keanu.
Keanu tilts his head, grin turning speculative. “Yeah? You know, we really should get Gavin back to his room. Clean this place up, make sure he’s good with his wife…”
“Didn’t you play a male hooker once?” Gavin rasps.
“Yeah. But I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want him,” Keanu says, drawing a finger up Gavin’s thigh.
Gavin shivers and just takes what’s coming to him. Maybe God’s doing crack and tomorrow the world’s going to snap out of it, but for the moment, he’s going to enjoy the ride.
***