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Where Are You Going and Where Have You Been; for lucier <3
Topic Started: Apr 5 2010, 11:39 PM (1,233 Views)
passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
The First Son tightened up profusely as Jason so blatantly put it out there that Sawyer wished he could sleep with men. His hand gripped to the glass, and his throat tightened. "No. That's not what I meant at all," he lied, calmly. "I'm envious you can just sleep with who you want, willy nilly. Only repercussions you might feel are a bunch of bastard children and STDs if you're not careful. Me on the other hand... besides those things of course, more than my own life is on the line," he mumbled. Every action he took reflected not just on himself, but on his father and the party. And as a 'good boy' he couldn't very well go rebelling at the age of 25. He'd already missed his chance to be a rebellious teen. And well, those years had been pretty hard as they were.

"... I'd rather not get married. Not right now anyways. If I ever do ... I would prefer it to be of my own choice," he sighed a bit. And he had had plenty of interested women. After all, who wouldn't want to be married to the Presiden't son? Money, fame, security, popularity... Sickening really. He was only famous because of his father.

Though as Jason went on to suggest he might like sleeping with men, his brows furrowed a bit. He looked down to his glass. "... Keep your day job. You make a lousy comedian," he mused quietly as he sucked down some more of his drink. The buzz within him was growing. Yet he was still doing well at keeping himself in check. As best he could anyway. Though he'd likely have to make this his last drink, for fear he start... blurting out stuff that no one but himself should know.

"... Not trying to knock down what you do, by the way. Just..." his voice drifted. "It's not for me..." he shrugged softly as he tried his best to pretend he was the good little straight boy he always was portrayed as.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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lucier
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si vis pacem, para bellum
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"The only repercussions?" Jason raised an eyebrow. Well, in a way, he supposed that was true. Except bastard children and STDs were the two things he dreaded most in the world. He had one marriage behind him to avoid the first...and he had plenty of scared run-ins with the second, but nothing serious enough to change his mind yet. "You forget testicular cancer." Except that wasn't funny, that was only sarcasm talking. He sounded perfectly serious.

Then again, Sawyer had a point, and Jason had to give him props for thinking so much of his old man -- not that he really had a choice, his old man was the President of the United States...Jason's old man just ran an investment firm down in Florida. It was much easier to ignore everything he had to say. So yeah, he supposed he was better off.

"Wasn't trying to be funny," he said. "Why the hell does everyone think I try to be funny? I go out of my way to not be funny."

It might not be for Sawyer, but Jason thought Sawyer would be a happier person for it, if he loosened up once in a while. "No offense taken, just saying. And like I said, I did mean it when I said it was admirable."

Here, his cell phone rang and it just had had to be Richard, "What?"

"What kind of smoke break takes two hours?"

The kind that included trying to prying top secrets from Sawyer McKinely, Jason thought, flicking his eyes briefly towards the young man in question, "Ah...has it really been two hours?"

"Lansky, you fucker. You're the one with all the paperwork."

"Paperwork on what?"

"Jesus, what are you, drunk or something? The one for the press conference tonight! The one announcing President McKinely's intention to run for reelection?"

"I'm just slightly buzzed...wishing I was high, that's besides the point," Jason sighed. "I'll be back in a half hour, yeah? So please don't self-destruct before i get there." Before Richard could babble on further, Jason slammed his phone down with a click. He shook his head, and spoke mostly to himself, "You just had to remind me...I hate my day job."
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sawyer quirked a brow. So he'd been serious about the go fuck a man or two comment? He just shook his head. He wouldn't touch that topic anymore. He'd probably already said too much. Nothing more to incriminate himself would be said if he could help it. "... Thanks," he added finally, when Jason reiterated it was admirable that he was 'waiting'. Funny that he actually wasn't doing that at all. More like he was forced to wait long periods between his bouts of sex, thanks to where he'd been born in life.

He watched as Jason took the call. He smirked a bit as the other had his strange chat with his co-worker on the phone. "... They want your ass back at the office now huh?" He murmured. He downed the last of his drink, and then pushed off the stool and got to his feet. "Let's get you back then. Kind of ironic if I got your ass fired when I 'saved' you earlier," he shrugged. He waited for Jason to pay the tab before he headed back to the car. His body was still tingling with the warmth of the alcohol now running through his veins. He paused as he looked at his car, then glanced at Jason.

"... Which of us is less buzzed?" he mused quietly. Sawyer had had more drinks, but his had been dispersed with coke. Jason had had fewer drinks, but had had his scotch by itself and on the rocks. He yanked his keys out of his pocket. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gone driving buzzed.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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lucier
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si vis pacem, para bellum
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Could I be any less obvious? I live for irony." Jason sluggishly reached for his wallet and took out a couple of fives. He handed it over with a postscript to the bartender, "Keep the change, and we were never here." Even though the barman still didn't seem to recognize Sawyer, he nodded anyway. Jason thought it was better to be safe and sorry.

Well, whatever the case, Richard was still going to be able to tell that he was buzzed when he got back, but he hoped that he'd be able to downplay it. Jason was able to function buzzed, but he always looked buzzed when he was. One lie he couldn't tell.

Which left a very good question -- which one of them was less buzzed? Jason studied Sawyer a long moment, if they got pulled over, it would be Sawyer's face plastered all over, the only person to recognize jason would be Ross if he read the right papers, however, if Jason showed up to the White House driving Sawyer McKinely's Porsche...well, he loved rumors, but not when the rumors circulated around him.

"You drive, it's your car...and I think if the security people saw me driving your car, they'd absolutely flip..." and here, he had the propriety to look a little ashamed, "I got in a little altercation with them this morning, I'm not their favorite person. And I'm sure between the two of us...we'll manage somehow, yeah?"
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Looking up to Jason, he gave a nod. "Fair enough," he agreed to his reasoning. His car. He drives. He slid into the driver's seat and he pulled the door closed. Once Jason was inside, he pulled out of the space, slowly, and soon pulled out onto the street.

He kept under the speed limit, and surprisingly kept the car pretty steady. Luckily the White House wasn't far. His fingers played along the wheel of his car, as he'd gone quiet during the ride back. They passed through security, once Jason pulled out his ID that he was an aide. Sawyer on the other hand didn't need anything. Everyone knew who he was around here.

The guard snatched Jason's ID from his hand, and he glanced at him. "... This hardly looks like you. But you are with Mr. McKinely," he mumbled as he flicked the card back at him. They pulled away, and Sawyer actually let out a snicker.

"You were right, they really hate your guts. The hell did you do to get them to hate you?" he chuckled softly. They parked shortly, and he turned off the car. His buzz had died down already. He closed the door of the car. He paused as he looked at the other man.

"... Thanks again for the drink. And the name. Um.... guess I'll see you around? ..." he looked up at him. He then extended his hand, to shake. Once that was through, he headed on inside... and back up to the resident floor. If his father was around, he didn't see him. He made a beeline for his room, and he closed the door behind him. He yanked open his shirt a bit, and sunk down into the bed. His laptop was soon in his lap again.

He needed to get... away for a while. Even if that away was hardly real.

He pulled up a familiar IM client, and soon typed in the name c4ptnm0rg4n, a long with the proper password. A slow smile came to his face as he was immediately attacked with a few IMs. Friends... even if they were only online. And even if they didn't know who he really was... They helped him escape.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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lucier
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si vis pacem, para bellum
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"This hardly looks like me my fucking ass," Jason muttered darkly once they'd passed through. "How can you fucking not remember me? You fuck--you frisked me this morning and I threatened the sue and..." Drunk Jason could be a bit volatile. But it wasn't as if he could help it. "I didn't really do...anything. Except maybe insult them...but they deserved it. Anyway, you got me in, so." Jason quickly got out of the car and he stared at the young man's proffered hand and took it. Actually, 'insult' was putting it lightly. But Sawyer did not need to know that.

"Thanks for saving my ass, it was the least I could do...see you around, no?"

If Jason had anything to say about it, they were certainly going to see plenty of each other. But before he went in to face the wrath that was Senior aide Richard Sears, he paused to leave a message for Ross to call him back ASAP after eleven that night. It was hardly office hours, but Jason was a strong believer in keeping non office stuff out of the office. How else was he supposed to get away with so much for so long?

And then he went in to face the wrath that was Richard Sears, his tie was crooked, his hair mussed, and Jason wondered where all the copies had gone. If he hadn't known any better, he would have said that Richard came straight to work when someone hadn't quite finished blowing him. Of corse he was going to keep that for himself.

"There you are! Where the hell have you been?"

Jason remembered that this was the White House and that he was hardly allowed to smoke and ceased reaching for a cigarette, "What's all this? The printers all broke all at once or something? Why am I the only one with all the papers?"

"Don't get smart with me --"

If Jason really wanted to get smart, he'd have gotten the hell out of here a long time ago. Shame things had just started to get interesting. "Yeah, all right, all right. Don't breathe down my neck for God's sake."

It was a little more than an hour later that a handful of aides and a television crew trooped up to the Oval Office, unfortunately, they didn't get to pass by the staircase that Jason had hid in earlier. The Adam McKinely that America would see on the five o' clock evening news was clean cut and All American.

If they only knew. At this, Jason hid a smirk to himself.
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Marianne, where the hell is Sawyer!?" came the bark of his father from down the hall. Sawyer tensed. Right... the press conference. Well shit. He soon heard the tell tale knocking on his door.

"Sawyer, it's almost time for the press conference, are you ready?" came the call of his mother.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute," he spoke back. His eyes flicked back to the computer then, and his fingers flew over the keys.

'gtg ttyl'

He closed out the IM application, then flipped his laptop closed... then zipped up his slacks. He let out a soft sigh as his head leaned back. A few drinks and a session of masturbation and he felt at least physically better about the whole situation. Though the little high wouldn't last too long. He slid out of bed, and straightened himself out, buttoned up his shirt, and yanked out a tie which matched his eyes. He then finger combed his hair back. Thankfully it didn't take much for Sawyer to clean up for the public, unlike his father and mother who had to be caked on with make up to hide their wrinkles and unsightly natural aging.

He stepped out of his room, and soon was being ushered down to the Oval Office with his mother. Although the two of them wouldn't be saying much, they had to make for important Republican props in the background. After all... family was an important conservative value.

Sawyer let out a sigh as they headed down the stairs. His father was already in the office, and had since banished the jackass of a man he could be when in the privacy of their resident floor. He had on a warm smile as he sat at his desk. Marianne lead her son through the doors, and they had a seat in two chairs off to the side. She looked to her son, and tapped the corner of her lips. An old sign he'd known since a child. 'Remember to smile'

And so he did, summing up that fake mask like smile he'd mastered since childhood...

When given the sign that he could start, President McKinely looked into the cameras and to the many reporters and other staff who had been summoned for the conference.

"Thank you all for coming to this important gathering," he began. "I would like you thank you all again for the wonderful support you have offered me while I have been here for the past four years. And after much discussion with my fellow party members, it has come to our decision that I, Adam W. McKinely, will be running for the upcoming election." he spoke proudly and brightly.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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lucier
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si vis pacem, para bellum
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thank goodness the Oval Office was huge, otherwise, Jason would have died from claustrophobia a long time ago. He stood off to the side, right next to Richard, who obviously had to make nice to the First Family when they came in. After all, he was a Senior aide and wasn't that loads more important than being the chief of staff? Yeah, of course. And all jason had to do was stand there and not look miserable while holding a stack of papers.

He considered catching Sawyer's eye when he came in, but he doubted that it'd be wise. Sawyer was grateful, but still wary, and Jason was not stupid.

As he had to stand there and watch as the President thank his supporters so on and so forth, he was running for reelection and so on and so forth, his eyes trailed to Sawyer again. He'd changed since their drink, and put on a tie that brought out the color of his eyes. Although Jason wasn't much for commitment, he was all for admiring a looker when he saw one -- even if the said looker was on national television and probably looking miserable.

Anyway.

The conference dragged on, of course with the President outlining all that he wanted to accomplish during his campaign and the second term if he was allowed the honor. Or some shit. Jason was growing to be very jealous of Sawyer, for no other reason because he had a chair to sit on throughout the whole thing.

At last the cameras were turned off and Jason heaved a sigh. Since the papers weren't anything important, he passed them on to the next available aid and tugged his tie loose. All in a day's work, until he found Richard glaring at him again.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, Lansky?"

"Back to my hotel, to sleep."

Richard's eyes flickered, it unsettled him that Jason lived in a hotel suite, but all that money from the house in Malibu had to go somewhere. "No you don't, you and Chestwick get to copy edit the publications going out tomorrow. You're going to be here a while."

The dreaded nightshift, and with Chestwick, who didn't do shit. Jason crossed his arms, "I suppose that makes you feel important doesn't it? Imposing your will on me in the Oval Office --" He made a mock gesture at one of the cameras, "Might even go on national television. You're a very frightening senior aide, remind me to buy you twenty seconds of primetime airtime to advertise that?"

"Anyway, apparently, I've got copyediting to do...so...I'll get out of your hair...bye, Ricky." Perhaps jason would be a slightly more successful person if he learned how to pick his battles. But for this one, he'd already lost.
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
After the press conference Sawyer let out a less than content sigh. At least that was over with. And if he got lucky America would decide it was time for a democrat in office again. Time to swing the pendulum of politics in the other direction, and free him from having to be so media watched. He went about loosening his own tie as he got up. He noticed Jason nearby, speaking with one of the other aides, but then he looked away. They weren't really friends or anything so... no reason to hang around and chat. He made his leave and headed back to the resident floor. On his way back to his room, he felt his cellphone ring at his hip. He pulled it out, and a faint smile came to his lips as he saw it was his sister, Dorothy... He flipped the phone open and brought it to his ear.

"Hey, Sis... how's life?" he asked her, surprisingly nonchalant. Of all the members of his family, his sister was the most tolerable. In fact he cared for her, as a brother was suppose to for his sister. It had about broken his heart when she managed to escape their family by marrying into the Conner line. Maybe in some ways she was happier like that.

"Hi Seesaw," he mused, using his old childhood nickname she'd given him long ago. He smirked a bit, and sat down on his bed, keeping her phone to his ear.

"Did you see the conference on TV?" Sawyer asked.

"Indeed I did. Good job sitting there like the perfect statue," she teased. Sawyer smirked. "Glad to hear it," he sighed as he laid back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling.

"How's life been treating you? I haven't heard from you in a while," Dorothy asked. Sawyer let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed it a bit between his fingertips.

"... I got fired from the Post today. You can guess how pop reacted to that," he mumbled. He heard his sister make a faint hissing sound, the sound that came with inhaling air through your teeth with a sense of unease.

"Ouch," was all she could say.

"No shit,' he mumbled as his eyes closed. "Went to get a drink though, that helped a bit," he smirked quietly. "Now just gotta find another job that will take me..."

"You went drinking alone again?" his sister sighed. It was pretty typical for Sawyer to go alone. What could he say, he had a lack of actual chummy friends in reality. Everyone who was around him was either family or employed in the party.

"No... actually went with one of the aides." he murmured. "... guy named Jason. Bought me a drink and all." he informed, trying to play it down. It really wasn't a big deal, though he winced as his sister let out a pleased little laugh.

"Better than nothing! I expect you to take two more aides out the next tiem you go drinking. You'll have a social circle in no time," she insisted. Sawyer scowled.

"And plenty of nasty stories being printed about me in the press. No thanks," he huffed.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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lucier
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si vis pacem, para bellum
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
And perhaps it would have been very weird for Jason to stop Sawyer McKinely to chat him up. Again, the fact that they'd went for drinks was still against protocol. He was all for against protocol, but he was definitely against having information leaked early. And if anyone was going to leak the story, it was going to be Jason Lansky and no one else. He had already made important headway today.

Ross called him at eleven, he was usually on the dot about these kinds of things, "You wanted something, Lansky?"

"I'm beginning to really hate my last name...yeah, I wanted something. I wanted to know why you fired Sawyer McKinely." Chestwick was out of the room and probably would be for a long time. Which was just as well, he stank at copyediting.

"What are you, the president's son's bitch, now?" He could hear Ross rolling his eyes, "We fired him because he wasn't doing anything. Always showing up late, his assignments weren't getting done. He was asking for it."

"And are you going to report it?"

"It's going to be circulated to the right people, obviously," Ross said, sounding smug.

"I'm calling in on that favor you owe me, don't touch him." Jason punched enter twice on the keyboard and leaned back again, "I already called Huron over at the New Yorker and she said she'd take him...there's something about this kid. And if I'm stuck licking his boots to get to it, I will. And if you fuck it up for me, I'll give the story to the Columbian Sun. Night, Ross."

.

A week passed without much of anything else, Jason kept a close eye on the Democratic prelims and went on to piss off the security guys at the White House, nothing had changed. Friday night rolled around and he was at the downstairs bar enjoying a nice Irish coffee while he read the paper -- the Washington Post, incidentally.

"Mr. Lansky? I was wondering if you were available tonight?" Sometimes, the bell boys were shy, but other times they were bold. Mark was always bold, because he was a whore for tips, and definitely not a whore for hire.

"I do tonight from ten-thirty onwards," Jason turned the page of his paper without looking up. "Will I be expecting you?"

"Yes, sir."

Jason watched as Mark walked off. Politics had already ruined him, he was even used to people calling him Mr. Lansky, and he had to actually dig deep into his closet for a pair of casual wear, Gave up, which was why he was here in a nice pressed dressed shirt. Always dressed for success.
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Come, the bar's this way," came the croon of a tall, model-esque fellow who was dressed to the nines in a swanky suit with his shirt buttons half undone to expose a hefty portion of his tanned chest. Dark hair and chiseled features. His arm was wrapped about the slender waist... of the First Son.

He'd about gotten his client into the door of the bar, when the struggling Sawyer yanked out of his grip and gave him a shove. "I told you I want to go to the room. We'll drink there for God's sake. If your damned ad had told me you were fucking deaf I never would have hired you," he seethed angrily. He didn't need crap like this when he was bloody paying for sex. The escort quirked a brow, but surprisingly kept back the need to tongue lash his shorter client. Yes, he was being paid for this, so he'd endure. But god damn what a pushy bitch.

Sawyer glared up at him. "I know you find me a pain already. I don't care. Just hurry up and let's go to the elevator," he huffed as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the hallway. The escort followed him silently. And of course neither man was aware of a familiar White House aide who'd been settled at the bar across the room. Sawyer stood outside the swanky elevator of the nice hotel.

"... What floor is it in?" he mumbled.

"The 17th," the escort informed. Sawyer nodded as he pushed the button for the 17th floor. And then they waited. His hands slid into his pockets as he stared straight ahead, looking at his reflection in the golden polished doors of the closed elevator.

"... Have to ask, who shoved that stick up your ass?" the escort mused as they waited. Sawyer frowned.

"I'm paying you extra to keep this low key. You don't need to know anything more than that." he murmured. The escort shrugged.

"Whatever works for you, John," he informed. The good ol' generic man name, used whenever a person did not want someone knowing he'd been doing naughty things...
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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lucier
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Come, the bar's this way,"

And hey, a sexy voice got everyone's attention. Jason included. But when he looked up, he got more than an eyeful. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him about...the man he was with looked a lot like Sawyer McKinely. Sounded a lot like him too, in fact, Interesting. Something he should go check out. He knocked back the rest of his irish coffee in a hurry and hurried out to the elevators, but when he got there, the two were already gone.

Damn, that would have made a good story, maybe when they came back out, Jason would be able to catch them...because why else would Sawyer McKinely bring a good-looking man into Hilton if not to...Jason clicked his tongue, "Oh, Sawyer you devil." He didn't even have to get proof, all he had to do was bring this up the next time he and Sawyer met up and watch the kid squirm. Why choose the Hilton? Why not somewhere seedier? Those people weren't into politics.

The seventeenth floor was the exec floor, Jason rented a suite there after lengthly negotiations, his room was right at the end of the hall, where it was private. But he thought he could hear voices coming from the other end. The carpet wasn't near as soundproof as the marketers would have you believe.

"Mr. Lansky! I know you said ten-thirty, but --"

Jason quickly clapped a hand over Mark's mouth. If Sawyer had heard his last name, the game was up. Hopefully he was too into his attractive 'friend' to notice. He pushed his card key into the bell boy's hand, "...Go in there, wait for me." And with that done, Jason proceeded to creep down the hall, pressed quietly against the wall. This was just too much of a coincidence.
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]


The elevator ride up was a bit awkward. But every time Sawyer had embarked on one of these sexual escapades it was always a bit awkward. At least until they got into it. But still, he tended to avoid doing this, not only to keep the times sparse and less detectable, but because at times it wasn't all that pleasant to get the ball rolling.

The elevator dinged at the 17th floor, and Sawyer stepped out. He followed his escort to suite number 1703. They slid the key card, and before long the disappeared into the room. A hit from the mini bar, and some warm physical caressing of his shoulders and neck, and the uptight politician's son had relaxed profusely. His eyes were hazy as he soon felt himself being pressed down into the bed, and the attractive man he'd hired for the night crushed his mouth over his. Yup... the ball was rolling now.

Sawyer honestly didn't quite know how many hours he'd spent there. He'd bought the other man for the night, so the time hardly mattered, as long as they finished by dawn. Around 2 in the morning, the brunet opened up the door to the suit. His button down shirt had been tugged on hastily, surprisingly untucked for once, over his slacks and dress shoes. His hair was ruffled, and he smelled like cigarette smoke and another man's cologne. And the best part was he had a rather pleased little grin on his face as he headed for the elevator. His hands slid into his pockets as he watched the lights light up at the top of the elevator doors, denoting that the elevator car was coming up. It took it a while... with so many floors to go through.

Idly, Sawyer raked his hand back through his hair and let out a soft content sigh.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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lucier
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
He didn't exactly hear anymore voices, but Jason got there just in time to hear the door close. He peeked over and made a note of the number. 1703. There was no good interrupting their little tryst, except Jason now had to wonder. He retired to his own suite, and Mark was sprawled out on his couch, "What was that all about?"

"I have no idea, I'm going to find out." Jason picked up his phone and dialed the front desk, where he was informed that the guest in 1703 had only rented his room for one night and had paid extra to keep his name confidential. Jason told her thank you, in the most courteous way he could manage and said good bye. Who would have thought. Really, who would have thought. Perhaps there was some hope for the McKinely golden boy after all.

"Mr. Lansky?"

"Nothing, it wasn't anything." Jason lowered himself down on the couch and nipped at Mark's throat. "But you should really stop calling me Mr. Lansky while we have sex. It makes everything awkward."

.

And now he was faced with a dilemma. On the one hand, Jason wanted to keep it to himself. After all, it wasn't like Sawyer was Britney Spears and constantly asked for his lot in life. On the other hand...this tidbit was too good to keep hidden. Jason was a journalist by heart. It was in his blood to claw secrets out of people.

Right now, he was sprawled on the ground with his pants unzipped and his shirt half off. The clock ticked on until two. He immediately sat up, upsetting Mark, who was naked and curled up with his stomach as a pillow.

"The fuck?"

Jason reached over for a scrap piece of paper, it couldn't be a post it. And he took care to slant his handwriting the other way. It said: Come again, Hareton Hilton, #1738. Monday, Here, he paused, He didn't know how long bastard Richard was going to keep him on Monday. Playing it safe, he scrawed 10:00 If it really was Sawyer, he'd freak out and run here with his tail stuck between his legs...and then Jason could have a good laugh. And then again, it might not have been.

"Take this down, and give it to a guy who looks like he'd just had expensive sex. I trust you to be discreet."

"But --"

"I"ll let you sleep here."

Which was how Mark, who looked similarly disheveled accosted the person matching Jason's description when he stepped out of the elevator. He almost looked familiar. But Mark did not think much of it, Jason Lansky was very very strange.

"Sir? Someone left this for you. I was told to deliver it."
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sawyer had been blissfully unaware that anyone had seen him. Anyone of consequence anyway. He never went to the same hotel twice. Never with the same escort. Always under a fake name. And the escort always had to buy the room. And of course to say that whatever occurred during their night never happened, all to the tune of a few extra hundreds. Needless to say, if Sawyer didn't have a well to do family he'd be fucked when it came to any sort of sex life what so ever. Or... maybe not fucked, to be literal.

He was about to step onto the elevator when a man he did not know came up to him with a slip of paper. He stared as he handed it to him. "... Um what? I think you have a mistake. I don't know anyone here," he frowned. None the less he hesitantly took the slip of paper, and once he unfolded his, his eyed widened. What the hell? ...

He drew in a slow breath and let it out. Okay... okay calm down. It was possible this wasn't even meant for him. Or... Or maybe it was another escort who'd seen him and hoped to get a night with him. Or in the worst of all cases... it was someone who had seen him and was going to black mail him for cash to keep the secret under wraps. Once Mark had left, Sawyer flinched, and smacked his forehead on the nearby wall.

"Fuck... fuck, fuck, fuck!" he hissed to himself. He had no choice but to show up. If he let this go, it could turn ugly. At least if he faced the issue, he could maybe... prevent it from spreading like wild fire. Just maybe.

Sawyer spent the weekend kicking himself, rolling around in his bed, and venting to Boots, about his stupidity and the fact he seemed to certain no one would ever find out. How dumb was he to think that? His forehead pounded against many things in those two days, from pillows to walls to doors. Some softer than others of course.

When Monday rolled around, Sawyer was a nervous wreck. He dressed in business casual, which was about as casual as he went when it came to going out anywhere but his room. A black button down shirt with dark slacks and a nice pair of shoes. He scowled at himself in the mirror. 'You brought this upon yourself' his reflection seemed to snark at him.

He soon enough pulled into the Hilton parkinglot. He looked up at the tall building, as he swore his stomach had folded over and was in the midst of eating itself. He drew in a shaky breath, let it out, then stepped out of the car and made his way inside. The elevator dinged at the 17th floor, and soon enough he was walking out into the hallway. 1732, 1734, 1736... He paused when he was outside the appropriate door. He swallowed about the nervous lump that had formed in his throat. And silently he knocked three times, then let his hand rest at his side...
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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