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Ransom knew he was spoiled, raised by rich parents and surrounded by equally rich friends, he was seldom denied what he wanted, and ohhh how he wanted the intriguing Detective Benoit Blanc; even his name caressed the tongue. Between the body hinted at under the suits and that rich southern accent that slid over him like velvet, the nimble fingers so often playing with a shiny quarter (the better to distract the person he was observing Ransom guessed) and those crystal blue eyes that seemed to see everything...well, Ransom was hooked. Of course he had no idea if the man would be...amenable to his advances, he was old South after all, which isn't exactly the bastion of open mindedness, but he could swear he felt those eyes linger on him when he wasn't looking. Then again, the man did consider him a suspect. Oh well, only one way to find out, and at least the man seemed the type to politely rebuff unwanted attention instead of violently.
Ransom slipped through the guest bedroom door, opened just wide enough to fit his broad frame through, before silently closing the door behind him. He could hear water running in the small attached bathroom and couldn't keep a satisfied smile from tilting his lips. Spotting the leather club chair in the corner, just as he remembered, he made his way quietly through the room, gaze darting around the room curiously, noticing files and a notebook on the nightstand, perfectly pressed suits hanging in the open closet and the detective's suit jacket tossed carelessly across the end of the king sized bed. Settling himself in the chair, his gaze was drawn to the closed bathroom door, wondering if the detective would exit wearing the rest of his suit or wrapped in a towel or, even better, completely naked. Ever since he'd seen him sans suit jacket, shirt sleeves rolled up showing off tanned, muscled arms, suspenders stretched tight over a broad chest, he couldn't get fantasies about stripping away the man's oh-so-proper clothes to discover the body underneath out of his head. Shifting slightly as his pants grew tighter with his wandering thoughts, he sucked in a silent breath as the water cut off and the door opened, tongue darting out nervously over lips. Oh, please let him be right.
~~~
Benoit Blanc was a man who was regularly both used to and surrounded by chaos and lies, which is why he tried not to lie to himself. As he splashed cold water over his face, his thoughts darted once more through the various suspects for his latest case though they once more, unfortunately, stalled again on the Adonis-like grandson, Ransom. Blonde and muscled, like some action movie hero come to life, with a cutting tongue and permanent smirk, he was the epitome of entitled, wealthy youth. He was a suspect in the murder of his grandfather, and yet... Well, that was the problem, wasn't it. Even though he was a suspect, a possible murderer, Benoit still found his gaze slipping to the young man over and over again, amused against his better judgement at the way he seemed to so easily needle his relatives into unthinking anger. He actually owed the young man some thanks as his relatives wound up spilling more and more secrets every time he egged them on with a smirk and a laugh.
Growling to himself, he splashed some more water on his face as he called himself all manner of idiot for being intrigued by a murder suspect, and grabbed the towel off the rack, scrubbing his face angrily as he opened the door. Hearing movement, Benoit froze, hands dropping, towel falling forgotten to the floor, as he readied himself for a potential attack. Instead of a physical attack, he was assaulted by the vision of the young man he was just trying to drive from his thoughts sprawled on the chair in the corner, one of his damnable sweaters stretched tight across his muscled chest and arms, tight denim encasing a tantalizing bulge and strong legs that were splayed wide. He looked the picture of casual entitlement, very much in control of the world around him. Except for that dart of a pink tongue over plush lips and a deep breath that seemed to stutter out of him. Well, then.
Feigning indifference, Benoit walked slowly across the room, fingers slipping loose the last remaining buttons of his shirt, letting it fall open as he stopped several feet away from the young man. "Mr. Drysdale, I do believe you have found yourself in the wrong room."
Ransom swallowed hard as he watched the older man stalk across the room, those agile fingers of his unbuttoning the last few buttons of his shirt, the fabric falling open revealing only another layer of fabric beneath. He felt like whimpering, pinned beneath that icy blue gaze, accented words rolling over him like a physical caress. Trying to gather the cool indifference he was famous for among his friends, he looked up at the detective. "Actually, Detective, I find myself being exactly where I wanted to be. Well, almost exactly." Tongue darting nervously over his lips once more, he couldn't help glancing over at the bed that was so very close as he pushed himself to his feet.
Benoit absently took note of all those little microexpressions that said so much about a person's actual thoughts - the nervous licking of lips, darting gaze, and hands flittering around aimlessly, alternately rubbing over pants or trying to slide into pockets much too tight to fit them. He was temptation personified and Benoit swore to himself at the cruelty of the universe. "Do you have some additional information for me, then? Come to confess? You are a suspect after all."
Ransom shook his head and took a step closer to the other man. "No, no confessions and no information. Not about any murders anyway."
"Then there is somethin' you wish to confess...somethin' you wish to tell me?" Benoit felt his body tensing in readiness as the gorgeous young man drew closer, though for what result he wasn't sure - to flee? to fight? to...?
Ransom swallowed hard, gathering up his courage that had gotten him that far already, and took a step closer, just within arm's reach of the detective. "I can't quit thinking about you. You're like a magnet; every time you're in the room, I can't help staring." Taking a deep breath, he met the other man's gaze head on. "And I don't think I'm the only one feeling this way."
Benoit cursed to himself as Ransom admitted to exactly what he himself had been feeling. Looking at the nervous young man, he tried to steel himself. "You are a suspect in a murder I am investigatin'."
Ransom took a small step forward at the detective's words, sounding as if he was trying to scare him away and yet he didn't tell Ransom to stop and he didn't back away.
"I am old enough to be your father."
Ransom smirked and took a last step forward, their bodies close enough to feel the heat from the other. "But you're not, and much better looking than my own, luckily for me." Leaning forward, settling a hand on that strong chest he had yet to see, he whispered next to his ear. "Though I can call you Daddy if you want me too."
"Lord have mercy." Benoit shuddered under the light touch. "Mr. Drysdale...Ransom, you have to know what a bad idea this is. If you are guilty..."
"If I am, then you'll have me arrested. But that's later and this is now, and it's been days watching you, fantasizing about all the things I want you to do to me. Can't we just have this right now, tonight, and tomorrow we can go back to how it was. We can get this out of our systems." Ransom knew he had to sound desperate, but damn it, he was desperate.
Benoit listened to the answers, the reasons and excuses to do what he knew he should not do for any reason at all. Groaning, he slipped an arm around Ransom's trim waist and cupped his head, tugging him close as he claimed those plush lips in a devouring kiss. He realized neither of them mentioned what happened if they couldn't get it out of their systems.
Ransom clung to the older man, moaning into the kiss. If he could think straight, he'd think it was the best kiss he'd ever had, the detective's teeth nipping and tugging at his bottom lip, tongue soothing over abused flesh before dancing once more with his own. He was every bit as relentless in this as he was with his work, and, just like with his work, Ransom was pretty sure the man would find every secret desire he held.
They finally had to pull away to catch their breath, hands tugging anxiously at each other's clothes, Ransom easily twisting and ducking out of his sweater as Benoit tugged it over his head even as his own hands slipped under the open flaps of the detective's shirt, pushing the fabric and the suspenders up and over broad shoulders and down strong arms. Getting distracted by another hungry kiss, he grumbled as his hands were still met by cloth, as little as the thin undershirt left to the imagination. "Why do you have on so many clothes?!"
Letting the younger man tug his undershirt up over his head, Benoit's hands ran over defined abs stopping at the waistband of his jeans to tug open the button, freezing as his fingers met no further fabric as they tucked under the denim. Groaning, he pulled the other man closer by his waistband, ducking his head to nip and suck a path down his neck. "And why are you wearin' so few?"
Ransom was panting, his dick straining painfully against the zipper of his jeans, tilting his head to the side to give the detective more room to work as his mouth seemed to find every single sensitive spot on his neck and shoulder. "Because I was coming here and I...I was really hoping I wouldn't...I wouldn't...Oh god, yes, right there! Wouldn't need them." Ransom keened as one of the detective's hands slipped carefully inside his pants, cupping his throbbing dick as the other tugged his zipper down, careful not to catch any sensitive bits. "Oh god, please, Detective!"
"Benoit. Or Blanc if you must. Sir if you need to." He really didn't care what the other called him, but he didn't need the reminder of their circumstances if he was going to be able to continue what they'd started.
Ransom shuddered as the command was spoken against his skin, his hips bucking. Fuck, he never knew he had a thing for accents, but he was pretty sure the older man could probably talk him into an orgasm if he tried. And he'd been joking about the Daddy thing, but feeling how capable and strong Blanc was, how easily he was able to control him, he realized something else about himself. "Sir, please!"
Benoit's cock jumped at Ransom's words, tugging him back into a hungry kiss before pushing him back. "Strip. On the bed, face down." He didn't wait for the younger man to move before he was unfastening his own pants, shoving them and his underwear down in one sharp movement."
"Oh, fuck. Yes, Sir." Ransom shoved his pants down over his hips, hopping as he kicked out of the clinging denim. He wasted no time in scurrying onto the bed, pausing only to take a good look at the body he'd been dreaming about all week. Blanc was tanned almost all over, only the smallest of tanlines indicating he at least wore a speedo while in the sun, his muscle definition was amazing considering he was at least twice Ransom's age and he knew what his dad looked like shirtless. But unlike Ransom's hard muscle, Blanc had a subtle softness to his chest, whether age or just a lack of desire to maintain the hard edged muscle he couldn't tell.
Benoit paused at the edge of the bed, looking his fill at the golden young man sprawled out on the bed, staring hungrily at him. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so completely desirable as he did in that moment. He knew his age and his career were catching up with him though he still tried to maintain the physique he'd worked for most of his life, but the way the beautiful young man looked at him, like he was still in his 20's himself, how did he find himself so lucky...or potentially unlucky. But, no, those thoughts were for the morning. For now, he had a desirable young man begging for his attention. "Fuck. Did you happen to bring supplies in those ridiculously tight pants of yours? Because I certainly did not."
"Huh? Oh! Oh, yeah, in my pockets." Ransom happily ogled Blanc as he bent over to pick up his discarded jeans, digging out a couple condoms and a couple single use lube packs. Laughing at the raised eyebrow the man gave him, he shrugged unapologetically. "I told you I was hoping."
"So I see." Stalking back to the bed, he mock-glared at his soon to be lover. "And I do believe I said I wanted you on your hands and knees."
"Yes, Sir! Sorry, Sir." Ransom shuddered at the heated look in those icy eyes and nodded, quickly rolling over onto his stomach and pulling his knees up under him as he hugged a pillow, arching his back. Ass up in the air and legs spread, he felt completely exposed as he turned his head to watch as Blanc climbed up on the bed behind him.
"Look at you. So absolutely gorgeous, like some old god come to life." Benoit reached out, hands sliding up over taut thighs, squeezing and caressing the surprisingly round ass the younger man had considering how muscled he was everywhere else. He sat back on his heels, looking at the scene in front of him, body trembling in desire, hard cock hanging down heavily, pre-cum dripping steadily onto the blankets below him. Stroking his own cock once just to take the edge off, he grasped those magnificent ass cheeks again, spreading them to reveal his glistening hole. Chuckling, he lightly traced a fingertip over the slick flesh, drawing a keening cry and bucking hips from his lover. "You really were hopeful, weren't you? Did you finger yourself imaginin' this? Did you imagine they were my fingers fillin' you? Teasin' you? Tell me, Ransom, did you make yourself cum gettin' yourself ready for me?"
Ransom was losing his mind. He was right, Blanc would probably be able to talk him into an orgasm, his rich, cultured, Southern accent caressing his name, making the relatively tame words sound absolutely filthy somehow. That one calloused finger was slowly circling his rim over and over, barely touching, not hard enough or fast enough to provide any kind of relief. "Yes! Yes, Sir. All of it, just like you said." He heard one of the packs being torn open and then whined as that teasing touch pulled away, the lack of touch worse than the teasing had been.
Benoit spread some of the lube on his fingers, watching Ransom buck and squirm in need. Fingers slick, he returned to circling the furled skin, this time just barely pressing against the winking opening that seemed to try to draw his digit in on its own. "Did you? Tell me, Ransom. Tell me how you touched yourself, what you were imaginin'. Was I gentle with you?" He slowly pressed forward with his finger, sliding oh so slowly and gently into the grasping channel, biting his lip as he watched his boy's body arch, face buried in the pillow as he sobbed in need. Withdrawing the finger almost completely just as slowly, his other hand holding one trembling hip steady, he paused. "Or was I rough with you?" He quickly thrust his finger back inside, the pad of his finger dragging along the sensitive tissue and causing his boy to scream into the pillow as his body bucked.
Ransom's hands were clawing at the pillow and the bed as he forced himself to bury his face in the pillow in order to hide the noises coming from him before he alerted the whole house with his screaming. He'd fucked and been fucked he didn't know how many times before, and yet simply being fingered by this man, not even properly fingered, had him damn near ready to bust like a fucking virgin. He couldn't even gather his thoughts to answer the questions he was being asked, merely whimpering into the pillow carrying the scent of the man torturing him by leaving his finger hovering unmoving just inside his twitching hole. "Please... pleasepleaseplease, Sir."
Benoit wondered if his boy was normally this responsive or if it was the situation they were in. Regardless, he wasn't taking the situation for granted. Thrusting his finger into him hard and fast two more times, dragging even more sobbing moans from him, he paused once more, his free hand reaching to squeeze his own cock; his boy wasn't the only one suffering from the prolonged teasing. "Tell me, Ransom. Don't you want to be a good boy for your Sir?" That got him a full bodied shudder and his hole clenching tight around his fingertip. Running his free hand soothingly up and down his spine, he leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to his spine. "Look at you, my beautiful boy, so responsive to the slightest thing. Just think of what will happen when you tell me what I want to know. I can give you just what you need."
Ransom pushed his upper body up, head hanging as he panted with the overwhelming feelings rushing through him. He felt a strong arm wrap around his chest and pull him upwards, a flash of panic rushing through him as he felt that tortuous finger slip from him. "No! No, please, Sir!"
"Shhh, my darlin' boy, I am by no means done with you yet. Relax, tell me what you thought of before you came to me tonight. What did you dream of?" Benoit shifted so his boy straddled his thighs, leaving his hole easily accessible while allowing him to lean back against Benoit's chest. After applying some more lube to his fingers, he wrapped his arm around the trembling body resting against him, hand brushing soothingly over his stomach.
Collapsing against the strong, protective body behind him, Ransom sucked in a startled breath as two fingers suddenly slipped inside him, teasingly pressing in and out without filling him. Trying to gather his thoughts, desperate for relief, he started speaking. "We were in the writing room...with that...that ring of knives. The others had left, it was just us left. You were looking...looking at the framework the knives are mounted to." His voice stuttered to a stop as the fingers steadily pressed deeper inside him before retreating once more. But then they were pressing forward again, inch by slow inch, pressing forward and retreating. He was going to lose his mind. "You asked me to look at something, but...but when I got close, you tugged me off...off balance and then I was handcuffed to the back of the frame. You...you started frisking me, hands touching me everywhere...squeezing my ass...grabbing my...grabbing my cock." Oh god! The fingers were buried fully inside him, not thrusting, simply rocking, his knuckles pressing rhythmically into the sensitive skin around his hole, just barely teasing along the edge of his prostate with every movement. "Please! Please, Sir...I can't..."
"You're doing so well for me, darlin', just a little more, I promise." Benoit slowly withdrew his fingers before driving them back as deep as he could once more. "Tell me what happened after I had you at my mercy."
Ransom tried to buck his hips, tried to make those fingers move, but the position he was in limited his movement and then Blanc shifted his hand just enough that it started to brush against the head of his dick with every movement he made. "Please, Sir...Okay...okay...Then...then you tugged my pants down, leaving me exposed...the curtains wide open...just you to block anyone seeing. You in your suit and glasses. Then...then your fingers were just there, wet somehow...pushing in, three at once...forcing me open...making me take thEM!" His voice broke as Blanc did just as he said, three calloused fingers suddenly thrusting into his loosened hole hard and fast, over and over, bringing him right to the edge, before just as suddenly slowing to a crawl, barely moving. He broke, a few tears flowing in frustrated pleasure.
Benoit reached up, turning his boy's head towards him to kiss away the tears staining his cheeks. How was he supposed to ever let this go in the morning? "You're so beautiful, darlin', such a good boy for me. You're doin' so well. Finish your story for me now."
Trembling against his Sir - and how the fuck have they gotten here?! it was just supposed to be sex!- he nods, thinking back to his fantasy earlier. "You didn't finger me long...just enough to open me up and then...then I heard you unzip your pants and then your dick...you didn't even get undressed, just...just pulled your dick out... and then you were fucking me...hard and steady...relentless, making me just take it." His body arched as those fingers once more started thrusting inside him, exactly as he described, hard and steady and relentless, driving his already on edge body rapidly to the tipping point. "And then...then...oh, Sir! ohhh, close...then you were...you were coming...coming inside me and I was coming too and...and...Ohhh, Sir!"
"Come, darlin'. Come for me now." Benoit didn't even have to touch his boy's cock, reaching up instead to cover his mouth as his body bucked and writhed in his arms as Ransom started to come, yells muffled by his hand as he continued fucking his fingers into the spasming channel until his young lover started to whine in overstimulation. Gently slipping his fingers free, he tugged his boy more fully into his lap, ignoring his own throbbing cock as he comforted the young man sobbing and twitching in his arms. "Oh, darlin', you were so good for me, absolutely beautiful." He pressed gentle kisses against Ransom's hair and cheeks, hugging him close as he came down. He was pretty sure this was the biggest mistake he'd ever made. How were they supposed to just walk away?
~~~
Ransom felt like he was floating for a bit, pleasure like he never felt before had driven him over a cliff and all he knew was the strength of the man behind him, holding him, whispering to him, kissing him. He didn't know how much time had passed -minutes? hours? days?- but suddenly he shifted and felt a telltale hardness pressed against his back. All of that and...and Blanc hadn't even cum? Hadn't even fucked him? The best sex Ransom had ever had and they hadn't even had sex?! Shifting, he looked up at the older man who had completely wrecked him. "You didn't..." he coughed slightly, apparently his voice was a little worse for wear after all that. "You didn't cum? You didn't, um, you know, fuck me." A sudden bout of self consciousness came over him. "Was it something I did?"
Benoit was quick to shift the two of them, laying his boy back on his cum splattered sheets, hovering over him. "No! No, not at all, Ransom. You were everything I could have hoped for, absolutely perfect." He dipped forward, pressing a gentle kiss to red, swollen lips, "But I didn't want to take you when you weren't fully aware. You did so well for me, let me drive you as far as I could. After that, I didn't mind waitin'."
"But...but what if I changed my mind after?" Ransom could not believe this man, his lover- his Sir? -was real.
Benoit smiled softly and shook his head. "Then I would help clean you up if you wanted, send you on your way, and go take a long shower. I enjoyed everything that happened; I could have easily gotten off at any time. I chose to wait."
Ransom looked up at Blanc as he hovered over him and smiled, wrapping his legs around his hips, drawing him down against him, a shudder going through him as the slick head of the man's cock rubbed against his hip. "I don't think you should have to wait any longer...Sir."
Benoit looked down at the cocky smile that seemed to come as easily as breathing to the young man beneath him and smiled, rocking his hips down against him and bringing a moan to both their mouths. Sitting up quickly, he snagged one of the condom packs from where he'd tossed them and the other lube pack. Slipping the condom on and coating his throbbing cock with some lube, he fell forward once more, waiting until strong legs wrapped around him once more before positioning himself at the puffy entrance. "Are you sure, darlin'?"
"I don't think I have been surer of anything else in my life." Lifting his hips, feeling the thick head start to breach his stretched hole, he looked into those beautiful blue eyes. "Fuck me, Sir."
Benoit hesitated for only a moment, staring back into Ransom's beautiful sea blue eyes, and then he was pressing forward, sheathing himself in one long, slow push until he was finally buried balls deep in the clenching channel. Head dropping he buried his face against his boy's neck, trying to find his control once more. This really wasn't going to last long.
"Oh god, oh my god...Benoit...Sir...feels so good."
"I know, darlin'. Too good. Just give me a second."
Ransom gave a strained chuckle, he felt so full and with Blanc over him and in him and his scent from the pillows under him, he felt completely surrounded and enveloped in a way he never had before. A choked sob slipped from him. "Oh my god, how are we going to go back?"
"Shhh, darlin', not now. Tonight's ours." Lifting himself back up, he shifted his position and drew his hips back, cock sliding slowly out before he thrust back in once more. He couldn't think about the morning, not now. It took only two more slow, careful thrusts before they both lost their patience, and then he was pounding into the eager body under him, Ransom bucking his hips up to meet every thrust. He couldn't care less about the noises they were making, the headboard banging against the wall, all that mattered was the two of them right then and the pleasure they were dragging from each other. After all the build up from earlier, he didn't manage to last too much longer, and then he was growling into his boy's ear, "Come for me, Ransom!" And then cum was streaking between their chests, his cock being squeezed in a vice like, spasming grip and he was falling over the edge right after Ransom, his lover, his boy.
~~~
It was only a few minutes later and Benoit was slipping his cock from Ransom's glistening, puffy hole and he had to force himself to leave the younger man's body before he started things all over again. Padding naked to the bathroom, he discarded the condom and wet a rag to clean himself up. Wetting another rag, he returned to the cum and lube stained bed and the flushed and sweaty young man lying bonelessly on top. Smiling softly, he cleaned the dozing form carefully. Even now, sleeping as he was, the younger man turned towards him, arching into his touch, so incredibly responsive. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he tossed the used rag towards the bathroom and scrubbed at his face with his hands. He had to think of the past few hours as some kind of dream; he couldn't let his emotions taint his investigation. He couldn't let himself excuse a suspect's actions because he might have feelings for him. He couldn't...he couldn't... Two strong arms slipped around his waist and a solid body leaned against his back, a face nestling against his neck as lips pressed gentle kisses against his skin.
"Come to bed, Detective. Tonight's ours, you said. There's only a few more hours before I'll have to slip back to my room and we'll have to..." Ransom sighed, arms squeezing the detective tightly, feeling calloused hands reach up to squeeze his own. Swallowing hard, he forced the words out. "And in the morning, we'll pretend like none of this ever happened. Just one giant wet dream. And you'll go back to being your amazing, suspicious, detective self, and I'll go back to my charming, amusing, suspect self."
"As old as I am for a wet dream, that is how it will have to be, Mr. Drysdale. Our thoughts seem to be runnin' along the same lines." Benoit sighed, leaning into the strong body behind him. "As you said, we don't have much time left. I'll set the alarm." Shifting back the stained sheets, he gave an embarrassed laugh. "And perhaps consider an apology gift for the maid."
Ransom looked at the sheets and grinned broadly at the evidence of the best night of his life. "Yeah, that might be a good idea." As the detective settled down next to him, he turned to curl into the other man's arms, wanting whatever closeness he could get while he could. "Goodnight, Detective."
"Goodnight, Mr. Drysdale." Benoit pressed a gentle kiss the young man's temple, hugging him close as sleep claimed him.
~~~
Ransom stood in front of the door, dressed in his clothes from the night before, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Sooo, after the investigation is over..."
Benoit sat on the edge of the bed, a bathrobe hiding his body as he looked at the young man at the door. "After the investigation is over, if you are innocent..."
Ransom rolled his eyes and grinned broadly "If I'm innocent, would you maybe want to go on a date with me?"
Benoit shook his head looking at that same cocky grin he'd seen egging people on all week. "If you are innocent, I think we could definitely discuss it. There's a very nice hotel in town that has a wonderful restaurant...and simply luxuriant suites."
Ransom's breath caught and he closed his eyes, swallowing hard. He couldn't stay, they couldn't do anything until after the Detective found his grandfather's murderer. Not looking up, he nodded and turned towards the door, hesitating only a moment before slipping out as quietly as he'd entered the night before.
Benoit felt like the room grew darker as the young man slipped out and scrubbed his face with his hands. Enough of this. It was rather early, but he had a lot to do. He'd get properly cleaned up and have an early breakfast. He had a murderer to catch after all.
And hopefully, at the end of it all, a date to make.