Title: Still Life with Hot Tub

Author: Loganlover

Rating: NC-17 Slash (of course), Darien/Bobby

Fandom: The Invisible Man

Spoilers: None

Archive: of course

Feedback: Yes, please, always….I'm a feedback slut. Will write for feedback.

The Players: Darien Fawkes, a former thief now blackmailed into working for a clandestine government intelligence agency and Bobby Hobbes, a very experienced special agent and former Marine who is

Darien's assigned senior partner at "The Agency."

The Set Up: This is an added scene to the episode "Money For Nothing." The Agency has just used Darien's invisibility to help them rip off a casino owned by the terrorist, Arnaud de Thiel. Darien is feeling depressed because he is trapped working for this government intelligence agency by the invisibility gland in his brain which they can't remove and which requires shots of `counteragent' every six days to preserve his sanity. The counteragent supply with which Darien is blackmailed into government service, is tightly

controlled by his "Keeper," Claire, who also functions as his doctor. The head of the Agency is a mysterious government operative known as "The Official." A former thief, Darien is especially frustrated by the Agency's casino heist – especially since all of the money is going to the Agency itself. To add insult to injury and in order to keep their secret weapon (Darien) out of sight, the Agency put him up in a cheap hotel room apart from the other agents, who were posing as `high rollers' and given luxurious rooms. After his Agency bosses finish celebrating their victory at the casino, Darien returned to his hotel room.

Story summary: Bobby, Darien and a hot tub make an interesting combination.

Still Life with Hot Tub

by Loganlover

Bzzzzzt....

Bzzzzzt....

What the heck?

Bzzzzzzt....

Oh. Crappy telephone. Great, it matches the crappy room. And my generally crappy life. I have to get out of this rut. The Keeper's right, I'm depressed.

Bzzzzzzt....

Better get the damn thing.

"Yeah?"

"Fawkes?"

"Hobbes? What's up?" I only left these guys a couple minutes ago. What the heck could have happened in that time?

"Hey, Fawkes. How's it going?"

Odd question. "Um…Hobbes, I was just over there. Nothing's up."

"Well…yeah, I know. You sure you don't want to head back down to the casino and play a few games? You know, legit. Straight up? See if we can't win a few extra bucks for ourselves while we're here?"

I have to admit it's tempting. I love spending time with my partner. He's been the best thing to happen to me in this whole past year. Stuck with the Agency, the gland and the constant threat of going violently insane, the one bright spot in my life has been a bipolar James Bond known as Bobby Hobbes. Life's just weird that way. But I haven't even climbed out of this monkey suit they made me wear, and the collar's itching. Don't know why they made me wear a tuxedo. I had to stay invisible the whole time we were ripping off the casino.

"Nah, Hobbes. I'm just not a gambler. A buddy of mine once said, `Only fools buck the Tiger's odds, they're all on the house.' He was right, too. Now, if you were offering to sell me part *ownership* in a casino...then I'd be interested."

He makes a rather derisive snort before answering. "Yeah, and where would I land a deal like that?"

Poor guy, he sounds discouraged. "I see your point. Agency paychecks wouldn't exactly cover it. Not like they're laying out any bucks on my accommodations over here at fleabag central either. How come you three got the nice rooms?"

"Part of the cover, my friend. We had to look like high-rollers."

"Yeah, well, since I was doing all the work, I could at least have gotten a decent room out of it."

I knew The Official wanted me out of sight, but I wasn't happy. My room sucked and my partner was the only one I could bitch to at the moment.

"Look, Fawkes, the boss still has to do cost-cutting where he can. Just because your room isn't fancy, doesn't mean we're not thinking of you. So come on back over. I can at least share some of the amenities over here."

I look around at my nasty hotel room. Cracked yellowed paint, fake plastic wood-look TV set that doesn't work, cigarette burns on the carpet and a chewed-up shelf where a dresser ought to be.

"Hey buddy, `ain't fancy' doesn't begin to describe it. And you know the Agency only treats me to first class all the way. I was just about to wander down the hall to my communal shower. Just like old times. Brings back fond memories of being in the joint." My voice isn't just dripping sarcasm, I think I've managed a full-fledged gusher here. Or maybe I just sound bitter and pathetic. It's hard to tell.

"All the more reason to get your ass over here and enjoy yourself for a little bit." Hobbes sounds friendly enough, but there's something else in his voice. I can't quite place it. "The Keep's gone and left me alone. It s a big room and a big hot tub. Come on back and join me."

Ah, that's it...needing company. He's been making passes at the Keeper for weeks now...guess he struck out again. I look at the clock, it's two a.m. Funny, I don't feel as tired as I ought to at this hour. Then again, I used to work nights.

"Okay, Hobbes. See you in a few."

****

When I walk in the room, he's there. Right where he was before, in the hot tub. Only he's taken off the silly straw hat and that damn tank top he was wearing earlier. Oh, jeez...he looks good. Broad, muscular shoulders, great muscle development on his chest too, light covering of hair, and those nipples…oh, man. Bobby Hobbes in a hot tub, just what I need. My hormones just went into overdrive and I think my brain froze there for a minute. I'd better think of something to say before he notices. "So, you gonna offer me a

drink?"

"Help yourself."

I smirk at him and toss my tuxeo jacket onto the couch. "Now, that's hospitality for you."

He puffs on his cigar then waves it, gesturing at me. "Hey, you want service? Get a room."

"Tried that man. Didn't work." I rummage through the fridge next to the mini-bar and find a beer. While I'm fussing with the bottles I'm trying to get a handle on how I feel about all this. Hobbes is a straight-up kinda guy, as far as I can tell. He's always making passes at the Keeper although I can't tell how serious he is. But

then again, I've seduced straight guys before. Hell, I've had several of them purring like kittens before I was done with them. Of course, that was in prison, where their dating choices were somewhat limited. I wonder how much headway I could make with Bobby? I wonder if I should try? I wonder if I should get my head the heck out of this fridge before he notices I'm taking too damn long getting a beer.

I turn and walk over to where he's lounging. I can't get over the picture of him in that damn hot tub. He's driving me nuts. He's got a cigar in one hand, an amber drink in a cut crystal glass in the other hand – looks like brandy, and he's resting back on his elbows looking like he's in charge of the universe, Master of all he

surveys. He has no idea how true that is right now. He's master of me anyway. My dick hasn't stopped paying tribute to him since I walked in.

"You coming?"

"Huh?" He's just knocked me out of my thoughts. For a half-second there, I thought he was psychic.

"You gonna join me, or just stand there all night?"

Oh! Do I want to get in the hot tub with him? That's what he meant. I walk over to the sofa that's opposite the hot tub and drop down onto the thick cushions. "Um…I didn't exactly bring my bathing suit, Bobby."

"So? You think I'm wearing a Speedo in here?" He gestures, indicating those ridiculous blue and white striped boxers he's wearing.

I must be looking uncomfortable because he gives me this weird look, then smiles like he's found something to rag on me about. "Come on, the world's waiting for the answer."

"What answer? Answer to what?"

"Yeah, for the answer to the great mystery question." He takes the cigar out of his mouth, blows a puff of smoke into the air and waves it in the direction of my slacks. "Boxers or briefs?"

Ah, shit. Because right now I could be wearing grandma's goddamn bloomers and my hard-on would still be obvious. Ah, hell. Well, If I want to seduce him, I might as well start by showing him the goods. I stand, unbutton my white shirt and slide it off, tossing it on the couch by my jacket. I toe off the shoes and slip the socks off. I'm trying to keep this light. Make it look causal. But it feels like I'm doing a striptease. Then I start unbuttoning theslacks. I smile. I know it's charming because of the reaction I get from Bobby. "Well, actually...I've gotten rather partial to thongs."

I slide my slacks slide down over my hips, showing him lots of skin… and a great view of my butt, from hip to thigh. His jaw drops open, right when my slacks slide down over my ass. He wasn't prepared for that, and I've just caught him flat-footed. I'm just lucky the black thong I'm wearing is tighter than most of my other ones and gives me a little support. That, plus my erections tend to be kind of vertical anyway, so I'm not getting the ridiculous full-tent effect I might otherwise. I think Bobby's mouth has gone dry. It should have, since his jaw is hanging open like he's having a hard time thinking of a wise-ass come back.

I smirk at him and slide into the tub, not giving him too much time to check out my crotch. Not that he hasn't already. He's gotten a pretty damn good view of my assets and I think his brain has stripped a couple of gears trying to catch up. The water's deliciously hot and smells just faintly of chlorine. The bubbles from the jacuzzi jets tickle along my legs and back, and between my legs...in all the right places. I take advantage of the silence and close my eyes, relaxing into this glorious pleasured sensation. But I'm still thinking about Bobby.

Maybe he's not as straight as I thought. But then, I've never seen him so much as look at a guy, and he's definitely in to women. Heck, he's a regular babe-magnet, and I'm dying to find out his secret so I can try it out for myself. But, still...there are times when he looks at me, that I can almost convince myself there's more going on behind those chestnut brown eyes than he's letting on. Like when he caught me sneaking through the Agency archives. When he got between me and the door, to block me from leaving, the moves we were making felt more like a tango than anything. And he wouldn't let me get away with any lame excuses, either. He just looked me in the eyes and made me confess. The look he gave me made my knees turn to jello. I felt like I was drowning in those crystal brown eyes of his. I just lost it. I confessed. Heck, I'd give it up for him anytime.

"Whew, it's hot in here." Bobby hops out of the water and sits on the floor along side the hot tub. He lets his feet dangle into the water, but he throws a towel over his shoulders. His chest is lightly covered with dark brown hair that gradually narrows into a vee as it grows down his abdomen and disappears behind the waistband of his boxers. The water's shining on his chest, running in trickles down those spectacular abs of his. Damn, I wish he were wearing a Speedo…or nothing at all. Those boxers cover up too damn much

scenery.

"Y'know, Bobby. You should try wearing thongs. I bet you'd look great in them."

"Ha," he laughs. "You kidding? It'd be like putting a bowling ball into a marble bag."

I laugh back, shaking my head, "Bragging...Bragging…."

He looks like he wants to ask a question, and hesitates. I watch his hands as he reaches down for that glass of brandy and tips amber liquid into his mouth. Gorgeous hands. Fabulous throat. I'm fascinated watching the light bounce off the crystal glass and the shimmer of water on his throat as he swallows.

He looks at me curiously, and gestures toward me and my thong. "So, do the women like those things?" Well, If I'm going to get anywhere tonight, I had better go for it now. "Actually, I've never cared that much about gender. Men…women, I like them both, they're just...different." I shrug, trying to be interested yet cool about this. It's a delicate dance, because my hard on is driving me nuts. It's partly hidden under the foam and bubbles from the Jacuzzi jets. Which is a good thing at the moment. I don't want to alarm him and have him get all defensive on me. Not yet. I need to work on warming him up, not cooling him down. But I can't think about anything except how much I want this guy and how damn sexy he is. He dabs some of the water off his chest with his towel. I wish it were my tongue doing that.

"That probably came in handy...y'know…?" He sounds a bit uncomfortable and I know he's referring to my time in prison. Come to think of it, he's almost never referred to the times I've been in prison. He's ragged me plenty about being a thief and about getting caught and getting arrested and all that. But he's never wanted to talk about the prison time.

"Yeah, it did, Bobby. But I haven't seen much action since then, y'know?"

"Well, my friend. We should just go down to the casino and see if we can pick up some action while the night's still young."

"I think the night's way past young, Bobby." Okay, Darien, deep breath. Here's where we make our move. Besides," I slide over to his side of the tub, then hop up next to him, "I had something else in mind." I lean forward and lick him along his jaw line, up his neck to his ear and nibble on the earlobe.

"Uhh…Fawkes." He sounds like he's going to choke. Trapped and he doesn't know what to do. Ah well, let's see if I can break through that straight-guy stiffness.

I run my tongue down his jaw line again and when I get back up to his ear, I adopt my sexiest voice and whisper, "I want you."

He tenses, like he's going to balk. I can feel the muscles in his shoulders and biceps, bunch up and tighten. "Umm...Fawkes, Darien, we can't. I...."

Hmm, I'd better switch gears here. Something a bit more submissive, but still insistent. I'm going to have to be the one making the moves, but I don't want to scare him off. Another lick, another earlobe nibble. "I just want to suck you." I'm sucking on his earlobe to give him the general idea, though both of us know its not

his ear I'm thinking of. I reach down and stroke the inside of his thigh. The muscles tighten and my fingers trace gloriously defined hills and valleys. Hard muscles under soft skin. I slide my hand northward while I plant another kiss under his ear and lick his neck. "Come on Bobby, I just want to make you feel good. Just lie back and enjoy this. I haven't had the chance to do anything like this in a long time. I'm missing it."

Without letting him have too much time to think or protest, I spread a towel along side the tub and take the brandy glass out of his right hand, the cigar out of his left, and put them aside. I put my arms on his shoulders and gently push him down, so his back is flat against the floor. He's breathing heavy and he's still kind of tense, but so far, he's cooperating.

I roll a towel under his head for support and I start licking him again, only this time I don't stop at his neck. I let my tongue follow the curve of his throat down to the notch at the base. I can feel his pulse under my lips, a little fast. Nice. Then I plant kisses across the muscular rise of his pecs, until I've got one of his dark brown nipples firmly planted between my lips. I suck him in hard and flick his nipple with my tongue. He sighs, like its okay, but he's not as thrilled as I'd be in his position. Any nipple action always goes straight to my cock. Licking Bobby is going straight to my cock. Hell, just having him lying here with me is going straight to my…I'm having a hard time focusing here.

Time to move on, go for the brass ring. I slide my hands down his waist, and get his boxers off his butt. He lifts his hips and lets me slide his boxers down and off, I toss them into the hot tub. They float off across the surface of the foam—at least they'll stay warm that way.

Oh, god, he's beautiful! I dive back in, picking up where I left off, by tracing my tongue down his abs. He's got a six-pack under a thin layer of body fat. Not body-builder thin, just solid and a little soft on the surface, with rock solid muscle right underneath. Lots of it. Oh, man, he's perfect.

I stroke the inside of his thighs with my right hand, using elongated circles, growing closer and closer to his balls. He's trimmed his pubic hair really short and I'm getting a great view of those balls. Nice. They nestle tight between his legs and they're even. Lots of guys have one lower than the other, but not Bobby. Very nice. I've tried to get him warmed up and relaxed under my hands, but when I go for the gold, bend over him and slip my lips over the tip of his cock, he jumps anyway, a little surprised at the first touch. His cock is gorgeous. About six and a half inches or so, totally average size. Not too big, not too small and it fits in

my mouth perfectly. I know I can be a real size queen when it comes to being penetrated, the more the better. But when it comes to sucking dick, Bobby's size is perfect. There's only so much I can do with a really big dick, and my jaw gets tired and sore too damn fast. So I always end up compromising and giving a semi-hand job to the base with the oral stuff at the tip. But Bobby's perfect. I can deep-throat this one and swallow it all the way down until my nose is pushed up against his abdomen. I can run my tongue around it in spirals, up and down the whole length. I can do wonders with this dick.

He's relaxed enough to make a little noise now. Bobby's groaning and sighing—applauding my efforts. He's finally relaxed enough to touch me, too. His fingers are running through my hair, giving me a great scalp massage. I wonder if I should tell him my scalp is an erogenous zone? I could lie around for hours if someone would just run fingers through my hair.

I slide my whole mouth over him and take him in so that my nose is pressed up against his silky black pubic hair. His skin is so soft on his cock, and the tip is firm and beautiful. And there's steel under that soft skin. I cushion the underside of his cock with my tongue, running it along his length like a lollipop...Oh yeah, an all-day sucker. Okay, I need to stop telling myself jokes. I'm grinning and it's getting in the way of the action. I apply a little suction as I draw my mouth down his length away from him and put more pressure on my lips on the way in. He groans his appreciation and his hips are starting to move into a rhythm with me.

I've got enough control over him with just my mouth that I can wrap both my hands around him and grab his ass. I've taken complete possession of his hip region, from dick to butt he's in my arms and under my control and he's feeling it. He must be liking this, he's already groaning like he's gonna blow.

It's too soon though. I release the pressure a bit and slide up to the head. His cock-head is gorgeous. Its smooth and well-defined. Its bigger than the shaft and its got a beautiful flared ridge with no visible scar. He must have had an artist do the circumcision. I wonder if they have specially trained people to handle that aspect of a bris? I wonder if I'll ever get up the nerve to show off my ignorance and actually ask him? Hmm, not a first-date question, though.

He's moaning like he's gonna come and his balls are tightening right up to his body. "Oh, shit. Oh, crap. Darien…Oh, man...yeah. So good."

Oh yeah, he's enjoying this. I'm so glad I talked him into it. His grip on my hair is tighter now, too. Like he's trying to take control of the blow-job. He's about to lose it. Hell, I'm almost ready to lose it. Giving head is nearly as hot as getting it, especially when my chosen victim is as gorgeous as Bobby. My cock is leaking like crazy and I'm having a hard time keeping my hands on Bobby and off my own dick.

"Oh, kid. I'm gonna, ahhh...." Bobby groans and my mouth is filled with his thick creamy jis. A lot salty and a little sweet. There's a trace of bitter somewhere in the background too, but not bad, barely noticeable. And thick. He's not come in a while. Maybe he was needing this even more than I thought. No wonder he was such a pushover.

And now I'm the one needing it. I'm hard and hot and I can't just let this go. He's straight, or as least he thinks he is, as far as I can tell, so he's not likely to take care of me. S'okay...lots of guys in the joint like to get but not give. Somehow they think they can hold onto the illusion of being totally straight as long as

they only receive, but don't participate actively, or as long as they pitch but don't catch. It's silly, but there it is. I don't know how Bobby's going to react yet, but maybe he'd like to watch me though.

"Glad you liked it." I stroke myself, laying back on my towel along side the hot tub. I run my fingers up and down my cock. It's hard enough to pound nails and it's not going to take much to make me lose it. Bobby's recovering from his orgasm and turns on his side to look at me when I spoke. His gaze locks onto my hand as I run it up and down my cock. "You want to watch?" I smile and keep stroking. I think he's a bit embarrassed and confused and fascinated all at the same time. So, I make it easy on him and roll my head back so that I'm looking toward the ceiling. Gives him more room that way. More privacy to watch me, without me watching him watching me. Or something like that.

But I figure I'll talk to him anyway, and close my eyes while I do it. "Ah, Bobby, I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that. I just thought you wouldn't be open to it." I can see him in my mind's eye. Those broad muscular shoulders, that fabulous chest. And I'm remembering what his cock felt like in my mouth. "You're so hot, y'know? You're just so fucking perfect." I'm talking between breaths but my voice has dropped about half an octave and it's getting more difficult to speak. "...and sucking you just made me so damn hot." I'm leaking so much I don't need any lube and my hand is firm and warm sliding up and down my cock.

I hear rustling, but keep my eyes shut. He's moving but…oh, okay. I feel the heat of his body as he lies down along side of me. Okay, he wants to watch up close, great. I'm tight and getting ready to shoot. His body heat is a wonderful distraction. I open my eyes and look up into his. He's spellbound…captivated. His eyes are watching my hand and my cock like he's never seen anything so fascinating in his life. His pupils are so large his eyes look almost black. He wants it...he wants me. But he doesn't know how to ask. I'll help, "Bobby?" He looks at me, at my eyes. "Touch me."

He raises his hand and hesitates. His fingers stroke my abs and chest lightly. Then he goes straight for the money and takes over the stroking that my hand was doing. I adjust myself a bit, shifting my hips and warm to his grip. Oh, man…oh that's...that's just.... I have to make sure he knows how much this means. How great this is. "Oh Bobby, yes... Please, please...yes. Oh, god...Oh, yeah." I'm singing his praises and he's relaxing and getting into it. I spread my legs wider, inviting him in...as much as he wants. My gaze is locked onto the amazing sight of his hand around my dick. Stroking it up and down. I think he's afraid of hurting me, because his touch is lighter than my own was. "Harder, `s'okay. Harder's good." He roughs it up a bit, getting more confident and man, now I'm seeing stars and my hips keep wanting to leave the floor. "Oh yeah that's it, that's it. Oh, Bobby, damn. Just, ahh...damn...." I reach up and stroke his back lightly.

My breathing is getting ragged and I close my eyes so I can concentrate on the sensation. His warm hand and strong fingers are wrapped around me, and I can feel the heat from his body as he bends over me. Taking control…taking over and I'm gone. I relax into his arms and give it up. Just lose it completely. I figure I'd better warn him. "Ah, Bobby, that's great…that's… perfect...just a little...just a...just...ah...I'm gonna...gonna." Shit, I can't even talk now. But I think he gets the hint.

I reach up and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I want to hold him for this. I want to be in his arms when this hits. And it does. Full force and I'm not sure whether I'm groaning of full-out screaming with the rhythm of coming. My muscles tense up and my hips clear the floor. I clench him tight to me, ducking my head against his chest and curling into his arms like a kid. White cream surges out of my cock and lands on my chest, on my neck, my face. Not like I care. I'm way beyond caring right now. Beyond thought, even.

There's a long deep moment when everything is quiet. I force my muscles to let go. Relax and uncurl back onto the floor. The carpet is soft and the only sound is the bubbling jets of the hot tub. I lay there, panting, catching my breath. Then suddenly, I can't help grinning. I start giggling…laughing and can't stop. Bobby looks at me, confused for a second. But I think he sees the humor in my eyes. Nothing harsh or critical of him. I think he sees that I'm just feeling good. And then he gets this mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, you think that's funny?"

I grin at him like an idiot, still laughing, still covered in my own spunk, feeling ridiculous and happy.

"Here, let me help you clean up," he says. And he rolls me into the hot tub with a splash.

FINIS

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