Chapter Text
Ronan wasn’t going to open the app.
Noah was next to him, tapping his foot as mechanically as always, one headphone in his right ear and the other swinging happily in time with the bobbing of his head. “What time is Matt done today? Five?”
“Five-thirty,” Ronan corrected absently. His screen was still backlit, because he hadn’t locked it again since he’d gotten the notification. But he wasn’t opening the app. “Are you staying tonight?”
“Yeah, I figured I would if that’s cool.”
Taking one last, long look, Ronan tucked his phone back into his jeans. “Nah, fuck you.”
Noah grinned. “Bet.”
It was their turn at the counter, so Noah stepped ahead to order for them both, as was their general order of operations. “Hi, gorgeous!” he said to the girl at the register, who Ronan could tell was smiling behind her mask. Then, to really drive home that he was a queer and not a creep, “I love the purple in your hair. How come I’m blond and colors never come out that bright for me?”
The girl giggled and thanked him, offering up the brand name of the product (Arctic Fox) as well as her salon (Bombshells) and her stylist (Catalina). “Tell her Haruka sent you,” she said. “She’ll take good care of you. Now, what can I get you boys?”
“Can we do a jasmine matcha milk tea with strawberry jellies and then just a classic with tapioca pearls and extra brown sugar? Both large, please.”
Wordlessly, Ronan handed Noah his card, which Noah then handed to the girl (Haruka, apparently) when she gave him the total. “I’ll have those right out to you.”
“Thanks!” Noah breezed, blowing her a kiss and taking the liberty of extracting Ronan’s wallet from his pocket again to return the card to its rightful home. Then, to Ronan, “We’re going to the movies tonight. Wanna come?”
Ronan’s expression soured. “And watch you suck face with my brother in the back row? Pass.”
Noah gasped. It was meant to be dramatic, but he inhaled saliva and it ended in a choked coughing fit. “I would never suck face with your brother,” he said, once he could speak again.
Ronan gave him a look.
“In public.”
Ronan gave him a stronger look.
“While you were right next to us.”
“Change the subject. I’m getting nauseous.”
Luckily, before Noah could take the conversation down a further unwanted alley, Haruka called out their order, sliding their drinks across the counter.
“Come on, hoss.” Ronan thanked her, picked up their drinks, and trailed Noah outside to the car.
Matthew was only home for around an hour before he and Noah had to head out, and as soon as the door closed behind them, Ronan started pacing.
He wasn’t looking at his phone. Didn’t even have it in his hand. But he knew he would.
The problem was that, when he was alone, he had no self control. It was the only reason he’d downloaded the damned app in the first place. He’d been in his bedroom, by himself, horny, with too much money and self-deprecation.
Gansey was always telling him to just get out there and meet someone, Ronan, honestly, you’re plenty attractive, but the problem wasn’t the inability to meet someone. It was the getting out there . Ronan didn’t want to get out there. He didn’t want to pack himself into an already overcrowded club like a canned sardine and scream over the too-loud music into someone’s ear to ask if they’d like to get the fuck out of there right now, please. He didn’t want to sit down at a bar and lose time and end up eight drinks in before he realized what had hit him and go home with the first person who smiled in his direction only to inevitably regret it later.
This way just felt so…controlled.
And there was no mess. That was the best thing. Utilizing a professional service guaranteed that there would be no strings attached. He would show up, they would fuck, he would leave. End of story.
Fucking fine. Fuck. He was opening the app.
Hello, greywaren! it greeted him cheerily. He rolled his eyes. You have 1 new match(es)!
He steeled himself. Took a breath. Clicked on the notification bell.
ProLuxe strives to match our clientele with the professional partner(s) we believe will be the best fit for you! Please review 1 profile(s) below. If you are interested, select ‘yes’. This will notify your match(es) that you’re ready to talk! If you aren’t sure the professional partner we’ve suggested is for you, select ‘next’ and we’ll get to work on generating a new match right away.
He’d come this far. What did he have to lose?
He hit view profile.
The name glowing back at him from the top of the screen was Finn. Just below, a list of qualifications sidled up next to green check marks. This, Ronan deduced, meant they complied with his preferences. Apparently, this guy was 27 (Ronan had set his preferred age range from 25 to 35). A switch (He’d requested no one strictly submissive—he was too nervous about the situation as a whole; he couldn’t imagine trying to throw bossing someone around into the mix). Beginner friendly (He hadn’t been sure if this meant virgin friendly or first-time-with-an-escort friendly, but just in case it was the latter, he’d selected it). Lastly (and most importantly, in Ronan’s opinion), the meeting space would be provided. This was 100% non-negotiable, given that his shithead younger brother slept just down the hall. No rendezvous at the Barns. Ever.
Next, there was a bulleted list. These points seemed to refer to traits that Ronan had opted to set no preference for. Caucasian. 6’. Certified in shibari, whatever the hell that was. List of hard and soft limits available upon request. Okay.
The only text left on the screen before the options to confirm or deny the match read photos.
Thank fucking Christ no one was around to see how fast he tapped.
All he registered, at first, was flesh. Then he realized was viewing only square, zoomed, subsections of each image, awash in slightly varying shades of smooth, lightly tanned skin.
Tentatively, he opened the first one.
There wasn’t anything above the neck in the shot. But the body, clad in nothing but a pair of white boxer-briefs…well. Ronan had to admit, it wasn’t hard on the eyes. Lean, but neither rail thin nor overly muscular. Shoulders dusted with a smattering of freckles. A faint, opalescent scar across the left collarbone. Well-toned thighs.
Certainly not lacking in the hardware department.
Ronan swallowed, swiping to the next picture.
It was similar to the first, just at a slightly different angle and in different colored underwear—a deep teal this time.
He continued scrolling, already embarrassingly mesmerized without even having actually seen what this man looked like. The majority of the photos were essentially the same, but he didn’t spend less time with any one than the last. In each shot, he sought out any minute detail that hadn’t been clear before.
Good hands. That was a clear and easy conclusion to come to. Especially defined when there was a watch on the left wrist. Probably, Ronan thought, he was a piano player or some such bullshit with those fingers.
Before he could put too much stock into that thought, however, his brain was rapidly shifting focus.
The next photo was of the man’s face.
His eyes were a storm, bordered by delicate, fair brows and lashes. On his left temple, there was a scar to match the one on his collarbone. Freckles mirroring those on his shoulders cascaded across his nose and cheeks, much lighter in pigment here than on his body. His hair was a darker, dirtier shade of blond than Noah’s, and it settled in cropped, messy waves atop his scalp. The slightest crook in his nose, like perhaps it had been broken before. High cheekbones. Not a harsh jaw, but a strong one. Lips the color of a breathless flush, tipped slightly upward at one corner. Not too full, not too thin. Just right.
“Jesus Mary,” Ronan said. His hands shook. He selected yes.
With near immediacy, he felt a clipped vibration, and a banner appeared at the top of the screen. He pulled it down.
Hi, it read, I’m Finn. This is an automated message I’ve set up to tell you a little more about me. I enjoy working with individuals of all genders, walks of life, and sexual preferences, so if you’re worried we may not have enough in common, don’t be. I’m sure we’ll make a great connection. Some of my special focuses include bondage, role play, and, for an additional monthly exclusivity fee, lifestyle domination/submission. However, we can include any or none of these in our encounters. Everything we do is tailored to you. If you choose to respond to this message and give me the opportunity to get to know you, access will open for me to view your profile and continue our conversation. If not, simply delete this message from your inbox and I’ll be alerted that you’ve chosen not to respond.
Ronan’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard.
He closed the app. Poured himself a drink. Downed it. Poured himself another. Opened the app again.
More thumb hovering. More hesitating.
Then, finally, hey.
He downed the second drink.
As he was about to pour a third, his phone buzzed.
Hi there. How’s it going?
Ronan blinked back at his screen. He hadn’t expected a response to come so quickly. Now what the fuck was he supposed to say?
He thought about it for a far lengthier moment than necessary and sent, fine. u?
Not a moment later, I’m good, thanks. followed quickly by, Is this your first time with us?
yes
Awesome. Just wanted to get a baseline established. I’m Finn, which I guess you already know, lol. What can I call you?
This one, Ronan genuinely had to consider. Should he use his name? His actual one? He contemplated sending his middle name, but then imagined hearing it—his father’s name—in bed and bodily cringed. He wasn’t clever enough to come up with something else on his feet, though, and it wasn’t like he had to send his last name, too, right?
ronan
Nice to meet you, Ronan. Then, Speaking of meeting you, do you know whether you’d like to schedule a meeting, or are you just feeling things out for now?
Ronan scrubbed a hand over his face.
idk yet
Totally fine. We can talk as long as you’d like.
ok
Can I ask what you’re looking for?
Ronan typed, a fuck buddy , and then erased it, and then typed, something casual i guess , and sent that one.
We can definitely do casual , Finn responded. I’ll only know what you choose to tell me and I’ll only tell you what you want to know. Sound good?
yeah, sounds good
Good. If you’re comfortable sharing, is there anything specific that you’re into or that you’re interested in experimenting with?
Ronan hesitated. He was going to need several more drinks. He poured another, polishing off half the tumbler in one swig.
i’ve never really done anything except normal sex stuff
That’s no problem. Do you think you might want to?
idk
Okay. We can come back to that later if you want. What’s your favorite part of normal sex stuff?
Ronan’s brow furrowed. He sipped his drink.
wdym
I see on your profile that you’re a vers. Do you have a preference for topping or bottoming? Do you like a certain type of foreplay? Talking?
i usually bottom more. He finished his third glass. but i like fingering. doing it and having it done to me. i kind of like touching in general i guess.
Cool , Finn said. Noted. Do you want to keep everything explicitly sexual in nature reserved for if you decide you’d like to meet up, or are you into virtual interactions? Text, voice call, and video chat are all offered services included for your first month in the flat fee you paid when you created your account, although only text is unlimited. You have one voice call and one video chat per week.
Ronan’s heart rate was perfectly even, thanks.
text is ok
Great. There is a one-per-day cap on free media messages (meaning photos or videos under one minute long), so I’ll never send any unless you ask. And you’ll always be the one to initiate contact.
seems fair
Is there anything you’d like to ask me? Anything you want to talk about?
Ronan watched the text bar blink steadily in and out on his screen. what do u like
There was a pause. A longer one than there’d been since the conversation started.
I’m open to just about everything. Whatever you want, I’m sure we can make it happen.
Ronan set his glass in the sink. i’m not asking bc i want anything specific, just curious. what’s ur favorite thing
The pause was long enough this time for Ronan to make his way upstairs, undress without ceremony, and slip into bed.
I’m not sure if I have a solid answer. No one ever asks me that.
Three drinks was not enough to feel it. But he was alone, and under the covers, and in the dark, so he said, it’s not a quiz man, i just wanna know what makes u feel good.
I like taking care of people. Praising them. Gentle instruction.
Ronan shivered. cool. i like being told what to do.
Is that what you want right now?
Fuck.
Ronan locked his phone and turned over, burying his face in his pillow.
Was that what he wanted?
Yes, inevitably. But was it what he wanted now? When the what to do didn’t include laying his hands on someone else?
On Finn?
He took a deep breath, unlocked his phone, and opened the app again.
i wanna meet up