Title: "Sweeter Music"
Author: Charlie MC camelotslash-1 at qwest.net
Feedback: Always! I'm not afraid of good or bad. Tell it to
me straight.
Rating: NC-17 for sexual content
Fandom: "Profiler"
Pairing: George Fraley/John Grant
Date: January 8, 2001
Status: new and complete
Archive:
Category: Slash
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, they are only on
loan. I mean no disrespect to either the TV series or anyone
connected with it.
Summary: A quickie in response to the Georgeprofilerslash list at eGroups Mini-Challenge #1: Write a hot sex scene between George and the lover of your choice (anyone!). It must take place somewhere in the VCTF offices (the reason and actual location is up to you.) and -- unknown to them -- someone is watching them (again, who is up to you). I'll place additional summation info at the end, as I don't want to entirely spoil my surprise.
Beta: Always the best there is, my thanks to Mistress Marilyn for her help.
Authors notes: If the date didn't give away how old this is, the challenge would, being at eGroups! eGroups pre-dates One Group, which pre-dates the current Yahoo! Groups, believe it or not... Georgeprofilerslash turned into a "Profiler" slash list (not focused on the character George) after Mistress Marilyn and I took it over, but it's pretty dead now. (sigh)

-----

VCTF Headquarters was full of people moving through the halls as George Fraley made his way from the elevator toward one of the research labs. He wanted to give Grace Alvarez the book of poetry he'd bought for her and ask how the baby was doing...

After talking briefly with Grace, George headed directly toward his computer. He had a backlog of minor research items to check and annotate -- something he was not looking forward to.

An arm reached out and abruptly stopped his progress. "Where ya' going in such a hurry, George?" John Grant asked him.

George looked into John's eyes and their gazes locked. John's blue eyes seemed like a pool George would willingly drown in. George sighed and gave John a tentative smile. He wanted to say, "Take me now."

John's look seemed very knowing, as if he knew exactly what George was thinking. "I really need your help with something, George," John said, his grip tightening on George's arm. George found him looking at John's strong hands -- beautiful manicured fingers -- with growing pleasure. He glanced up again into John's face, simply nodding his consent.

They walked side-by-side down a long hall, and George wondered where, exactly, John was taking him. The area was unfamiliar to George, which struck him as odd. But it didn't matter. He wanted to help John, and that was what was important.

John guided George to enter through a slightly open door, which he closed behind them. The room was nondescript. The main feature was an impressively large, mahogany desk. John moved to the desk and leaned back against it, staring at George.

In the dim light, George was again struck -- as he had been numerous times in the past -- by how classically handsome his fellow agent was. John was smiling at him for a moment, and then the smile was replaced by an enigmatic look. John's mouth hung open just slightly, making his bottom lip protrude even more than usual. George suddenly wished he could go to John and kiss his full, tempting mouth...

"You want to help me, George?" John asked, his tone serious.

Again George nodded, mentally forcing himself to turn his concentration away from his own desires.

George hadn't noticed what John was doing with his hands, but his gaze was drawn to them when John next spoke.

"I need some help with this," John said, lifting his incredibly swollen penis with one hand, while stretching out his other hand toward George.

George felt giddy. He felt a flush of heat. He felt his own penis rising uncomfortably inside his clothing. He took one step forward, and then another.

John's hands were now on his body, groping and helping him to disrobe. George could feel himself trembling with excitement and anticipation, his heart pounding harder and harder in his chest.

Then John was bending him forward over the desktop, and George was reaching out to grip the slippery surface. His hands worked above it -- balling and un-balling -- unable to make purchase against the shiny veneer and heavy wax.

George made no sound as he felt John's now naked body descending, face drifting from neck to back and downward. He shuddered with sensation and need. Then John's tongue was lapping his ass cheeks like a kitten greedy for milk, pressing inward between the mounds of flesh, seeking.

George almost gasped when John's tongue found his hole and began to press insistently to penetrate him, warm and wet. George was amazed that John -- of all people! -- would do this, but he didn't consider questioning his good fortune.

George allowed himself to feel this sensation of total violation, spreading his legs wide and sliding backward on the desk to impale his rectum on John's amazingly thick tongue.

"I think you're ready, George," John said in a husky whisper. George shivered at the void caused by John pulling his tongue and face away.

Suddenly George felt a brief, heated flash of pain, as John replaced his tongue with his engorged penis. The entry should have taken more time, but George could feel John swiftly entering, pressing deeply inside him. He gave vague wonder as to whether or not John had used protection. He decided it didn't matter. George knew John had been a virgin with men before this moment in time. He wasn't sure how he knew it, but he did...

John's voice was panting as his body thrust heavily over George's. "This is sooo good, George," John was saying, and George kept nodding and shoving back.

George was startled when he sensed someone else in the room. Could there be a spectator here, watching John driving inside him?

George could feel John's excitement growing, could feel his own body getting nearer and nearer to orgasm. Any second, any second, any second now...

The room and hall were suddenly filled with the terrible sound of the alert siren. "No!" George's mind screamed! Just one more moment...

The ringing continued, and George sat up in his bed, sweaty and dazed. He banged his hand on the edge of his nightstand, cursing, before finally finding the clock and switching off the alarm.

"How could it possibly have been a dream?" George whispered to no one. He reached down and grabbed his penis tightly in his hand, beginning a rhythmic stroking.

George started at the sound of his phone ringing. He stopped his ministrations and grabbed for the receiver.

"Hello?"

George could hear heavy breathing on the other end of the phone. "Hello?" he said again. Just as he had decided to hang up, a voice finally spoke.

"George?" The voice belonged to John Grant. "Could you... just talk to me for a minute..."

"Sure, John," he managed, letting his hand go back to his own painful erection. "What do you want to talk about, John?"

"Um, I don't know...just talk to me, George, say anything." John's voice paused, and his breathing seemed even more labored to George. Could John really be beating off right now -- now while he was on the phone with George? Well, wasn't that what he was doing?

"John, I think you looked so nice yesterday. I mean..." he, too, had to pause, and draw a deep breath, "I really like to see you in those tight sweaters, John."

"You... do?"

"Mmmm. Especially in black. Or in blue. But that black one yesterday just fits you so well, John. It really sets off your strong shoulders. I could just imagine the way your shoulders would feel under my hands." George kept his voice seductive and spoke slowly. He was enjoying drawing out the experience.

"What else, George? What else?" John's voice seemed even less controlled. George could imagine John lying across his bed, his hand working on himself as he cradled the phone to his ear. Were his lips wet? Was John licking them as he 'did' himself?

"I always feel safe when you're around, John," George crooned, his own hand building speed as it pumped up and down on his shaft.

"Yeah? Oh, yeah."

He could almost feel John's hot breath on his face, listening to John gasping for air. He again pictured John's muscular body stretched out -- legs flung apart -- one hand on his penis, the other barely able to keep the receiver to his ear and mouth.

George knew John's skin would be covered with a dew of sweat, and his penis would be slick with fluid. He could imagine John's shudders of pleasure as he felt his own body gripped with tremors.

George tried to slow his own motions, wanting to last as long as he could manage. He knew the effort was futile. He'd been too excited by the dream to have much willpower left.

"Oh, George! Oh, George! Oh, oh, OH!"

George could hear a loud clunk as John's receiver fell against something solid. He struggled to keep his own phone against his ear, hoping to hear John's moans as he let himself spray into the bedcovers and his parted pajama bottoms.

George groaned with pleasure, letting himself drift. Then he suddenly heard a voice in the receiver.

"Um. Geez, thanks, George. You have no idea-"

He cut John off. "Oh yes. I have every idea. I have lots of 'ideas,' John." He was grinning and he knew his voice must reflect his delight.

John's voice sounded a bit sheepish. "I... I wouldn't usually do this, George."

George laughed softly. "I know. Neither would I."

There was a pause.

"You did, George?" John was obviously surprised, but there was a clear hint of pleasure in his question.

"Sure. You think I'd prefer to just listen to you? It's called 'phone sex,' John. And lots of people do it. It's one of the best forms of safe sex around."

John cleared his throat in obvious embarrassment. "It feels kind of... kinky, I guess. I hope you don't feel like I made you cheat on Rich, George."

"I don't think it counts, John. If it did, then I'd already been cheating on him in my dreams. I was having a pretty realistic one when the phone woke me up."

"Hey! I'm sorry about that, George."

"Don't be, John. It was a dream about you. If any person had a right to interrupt it, you'd be that person." George allowed his amusement to pass through the phone and reassure John.

There was a long pause, and George found he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

"George? You still there?"

George yawned. "Yeah, I'm still here, John."

"Um... you maybe wanna do this again sometime?" John was making an obvious attempt to be casual. George had to struggle not to laugh out loud. Dear, sweet John...

"I don't see why not, John. It's not hurting anyone. And I thought it was loads of fun."

"Me, too," John agreed, yawning loudly into the receiver.

"You'd better get some sleep now, John," George suggested. "I'll see you at work."

John's voice was sleepy. "See ya, George. Thanks."

George grinned widely. "No -- thank you, John. G'night."

There was a click. George reached over and hung up his own phone. Then he switched off the lamp and fell back against his pillows. He'd clean up in the morning. Might be nice to think of it as being John's wetness all over him.

George drifted peacefully to sleep.

-the end-

Additional Author Notes: Those of you who read my story "A Little Night Music" might recognize this as a companion piece to that work. In the original story, we live George's dream, and at the end he gets a phone call from John. I thought for people who like John/George, that this current tale would be 'sweeter' -- hence the title of the story!

Those who complained about the last one should like this at least somewhat better... (And I feel like it's got a little bit of everything, too.)