Chapter Text
“You got a shot, Frank.” Curtis elbows Frank in the arm and nods his head in the direction of the group of women sitting at the other side of the bar, one of them openly staring at Frank with a coy smile.
Frank glances up from his beer glass to look towards where Curtis indicated, only to stare into his drink again and shrug.
“‘m good,” he mumbles loud enough for Curtis to hear him over the many voices, and takes a few long pulls of his beer.
It’s Saturday evening, and Frank and Curtis are sitting at their favorite bar, watching a football game with a large crowd around them that has been cheering or booing depending on what’s happening on the large TV screen.
Curtis breathes out a long sigh but doesn’t say anything. They’ve had that talk often enough by now that Curtis knows that Frank won’t budge.
“It’s been over a year, man,” Curtis finally does say, but claps Frank on the shoulder kindly.
Frank only nods a few times to say that he’s aware of it and that he knows that Curtis only means well.
“Maybe you should call one of those phone sex numbers. Get the edge off at least,” Curtis chuckles at his own joke and grins as Frank snorts in amusement and shakes his head.
Later that night, Frank is lying in bed and staring at the ceiling as his mind returns to his conversation with Curtis. It’s been over a year since his divorce, and even longer since he’s been intimate with someone. But the thing is, despite feeling lonely some days, he doesn’t feel like going through the whole dating process again. He also isn’t interested in meaningless sex, either. Which makes all of it more complicated. He wants the intimacy of a relationship, but doesn’t want to start something only to realize that nothing will come of it. Frank guesses that after having been married for so long, being used to one person, he doesn’t know how to start all over again. He already feels tired just thinking about it. He turns on his side with a grunt and closes his eyes, until he remembers what Curtis had said as a joke. Frank snorts like earlier, imagining calling one of those phone sex numbers. That would definitely be meaningless sex. He laughs again at the idea of the person on the other side of the line moaning exaggeratedly. One of his friends had called a line when they were in their early twenties, and it had been exactly like that, too much moaning and other weird sounds.
The following Thursday, Frank is kneeling behind the fridge of a customer, parts lying all around him as he fixes the appliance in the owner's kitchen. He’s been at it for two hours now, but he’s finally found the problem and begins putting everything back together. Once he’s done, he plugs the fridge back in and walks around it. Frank hums in satisfaction as he opens the door and the light greets him with the sound of the cooling fans.
“You did it,” the owner says with heartfelt relief. “I really don’t have the money to buy a new one right now.”
Frank smiles faintly in acknowledgement as he walks to the sink to clean his hands, not wanting to dirty up the fridge when he pushes it back into its designated spot.
After he’s put away his tools and cleaned the surface he’d worked on, Frank reaches into his large tool bag and pulls out a tablet that the company he works for gives their employees to access the customer’s profile. He checks on the agreed on rate, while the client leads him to the living room. Frank holds out the tablet to the man, asking for his signature and how he’d like to pay. The man excuses himself for a moment to retrieve his wallet, leaving Frank to wait in the living room. Frank absently looks around him and glimpses a small square of glossy paper halfway hidden under a stack of newspapers on the coffee table. He can only see the top of what he assumes to be a flyer, the bold digits of a phone number and the name catching his eye. One-On-One, it reads over the lower half of a woman’s face, with a red phone receiver pressed to the side of her equally red painted mouth. The hidden part seems to be the face of a man in the same position, but before Frank can investigate further, the customer comes back and holds out the money to Frank. He focuses on counting the cash and stowing it away, while the man signs on the tablet and confirms his email address for Frank's boss to send the invoice.
By the time he’s done and checking on his next appointment, the flyer has left his mind entirely.
It’s several hours later, after he’s returned home, that Frank remembers the flyer and laughs at the coincidence of seeing this when he’d jokingly thought about calling that sort of number only two days ago. He can’t even remember ever seeing phone sex ads as flyers. Usually, it's in dirty magazines or late night TV.
He’s sitting with a book in an armchair and lifts his eyes to the laptop sitting on the living room table in front of him. What was it called again? One-One-One? The Os had been highlighted, that he remembers. Curiosity getting the best of him, Frank gets up from the armchair with a huff and grabs the laptop to open it on his lap. Once it’s booted up, Frank goes to the search engine and finds what he’s looking for on his second try. Clicking on the link, he’s surprised that he doesn’t end on a garish looking site, with too many popups to fight off or overly explicit pictures. Instead, the site has more of a minimalist vibe, the phone number being the only element blinking at him in the same bold characters as on the flyer, the rates underneath it in a much smaller font. There even are reviews, which are for the most part very positive, with some being more detailed than others. There's also a page that lists and explains the different types of calls – as in different kinks – that they take. It’s rather straightforward, and that’s probably why Frank is reaching for his phone before he realizes that he’s doing it. He bites the inside of a cheek and scratches the side of his nose as his thumb hovers over the digits on the phone. What’s the worst that could happen? He can hang up whenever he wants, and the rates aren’t crazy.
Frank places the laptop back on the coffee table and gives in the number. He hits the call button before he can change his mind. He’s immediately connected to a disc, some bass-y music playing as a sultry female voice introduces the service and the rates. After typing in his credit card information, Frank is positively surprised by the few options he's led through to find the right person for him. He goes through them easily, since he's looking for something uncomplicated; mostly meaning no particular kink for now. It’s only after the voice asks him if he wishes for a female or male partner that Frank stalls. He hadn’t really thought about it, automatically thinking that he’d be dealing with a woman. It’s been ages since he’s been with a man, and… Frank hits the number two. The recorded voice thanks him for his choice and reminds him of the rates, before it announces that someone would be taking his call in a brief moment. Frank bounces his leg as he waits, already feeling stupid for even trying the number, when the music stops and a click indicates that he’s been connected.
“Good evening. My name is Matthew. Welcome to One On One.”
Frank’s mouth goes slack at the unexpectedly deep voice and the way the man speaks every single word with flawless diction, the hint of a smile – no, smirk – audible as well.
“Uhm…” Frank shifts on the armchair and licks his lips, still slightly in shock from the man's voice and losing his track of thoughts.
There’s a light chuckle coming from the other side of the line, like this Matthew is used to getting his customers tongue-tied. Which he probably is, Frank thinks.
“What would you like me to call you tonight?” Matthew continues, seductively lowering his voice further.
“Frank… Just Frank’s fine,” he finally manages, the words coming out in a rumbling mumble.
There’s a low, happy sound over the phone. “Well, Frank, you could give me a run for my money with your voice.”
“Uh… thanks, I guess?” Frank rubs the back of his head self-consciously.
There’s that chuckle again.
“I mean it. You have a very pleasant voice. I’m looking forward to hearing more of it.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one sayin’ that?”
This time, Matthew actually laughs. A real, genuine laugh, and something loosens inside Frank at the sound.
“I suppose you’re right.” There’s a small pause. “Would I be right by saying that this is the first time you’re calling a phone sex number?”
“That obvious, huh?” Frank laughs under his breath, Matthew's question sounding honestly curious.
“It’s not a bad thing, trust me. We get new callers all the time, but they have more specific questions… They’re more eager, let’s say.”
“I don’t sound eager?” Frank laughs lightly, the awkwardness slowly receding as he finds that Matthew makes it easy to talk to him.
“Not yet, but I’ll make sure you soon do,” Matthew replies, his voice lowering again, and Frank definitely likes the promise he hears in it.
“With your voice? No doubt about that,” Frank finds himself saying, surprised by the light banter that seems to settle naturally between them.
Matthew hums, pleased.
“Now tell me, Frank. What do you like? What would you like me to do?” There’s a deep chuckle. “Or what would you like to do to me?”
Frank has to sit up straighter and clear his throat, his sweatpants suddenly feeling that bit tighter. He’s good at doing what he's asked to do, but he can do the opposite just as well.
“Oh? Is this what you like? Would you like to tell me what to do, or should I go ahead and say what I think you might enjoy?” Matthew is positively purring by now, and Frank has no doubt about Matthew being excellent at what he does.
He licks his dry lips and moves around some more, his free hand slowly getting closer to his crotch as his eyelids lower, and he leans his head back.
“Tell me,” Frank rumbles, his skin warming with the prospect of release. He'd called out of curiosity more than anything, but now, feeling more comfortable and with Matthew's low voice in his ear, Frank decides to just go with it.
Matthew hums pleasantly. “How about you have me on my knees between your legs tonight?”
“Yeah, okay. Yeah,“ Frank breathes roughly, and tugs the elastic of the sweatpants down until it rests underneath his balls, imagining Matthew doing it for him and waiting at his feet.
There’s another pleased hum from Matthew, and Frank realizes that he made a relieved noise when he freed his hardening cock.
“Now… May I touch you, or would you like for me to sit there and wait for you to feed me your dick?”
“Oh Christ.” Frank finally wraps his fingers around his hard length at the image Matthew is painting. His other hand tightens over the phone.
“Please?” Matthew changes his tone from teasing to sweetly begging with that sinful voice, and Frank gets hit with an intense wave of pure want.
Frank slowly strokes himself and stills right under the head. “Open up wide.” His voice is deep and almost breaks at the end as he visualizes someone opening their mouth expectantly. He can’t remember the last time he’s been this turned on.
Matthew moans and a second later, Frank hears wet sucking. His hand clenches around the head as he groans at the absolutely filthy sounds coming from Matthew, Frank’s cock leaking from the auditory stimulation which eases the slide of his hand.
“You feel so good on my tongue. So big,” Matthew speaks after a while between two sucking noises, panting like he’s out of breath and sounding unbelievably hot. “Gimme more? Deeper?”
“Fuck, yes… Yeah.” Frank’s hand moves faster, his fist twisting over the head as he slams his head back against the armchair. “Oh shit… Please, I…” How did he end up being the one to beg?
Matthew moans again, and the wet noises get faster, sounding more desperate. Frank is too far gone, however, to be able to really wonder how Matthew is doing them and instead just focuses on Matthew’s lustful voice. This was going to be embarrassingly quick.
“Come on, Frank. I know you’re close.” The words come out raspy, like Matthew had actually had Frank’s cock deep in his throat, and yes, Frank definitely is close now. “Where do you wanna come?
“Mouth,” Frank gasps without hesitation because he knows that he’ll be replaying that voice in his head for a while.
Matthew groans and starts sucking again, the sounds interspersed with soft encouragements and praise that Frank can’t resist for long. He hisses and curses under his breath as he comes with his whole body going taut. Only reflex keeps the phone up as he streaks his still t-shirt covered stomach with white, and he emits rough, panting breaths.
Frank slowly opens his eyes, feeling dazed but utterly relaxed.
“Are you still with me?” Matthew asks after a long minute of silence, but the smile in his voice indicates that he’s been listening to Frank’s deep breathing as he basks in the pleasure of release.
“Ask me in another minute,” Frank laughs lightly as he absently stares up. He knows he’s on the clock, but he doesn’t care.
Matthew laughs in the same genuine way he did at Frank’s earlier quip, which only broadens Frank’s grin.
“I take it you enjoyed yourself.”
Matthew’s so cocky that he doesn’t make it a question, but a statement. Considering that Frank just came like he hadn’t in a long time, Frank can’t fault him for being smug.
“You sure stood by your word.”
“And I definitely enjoyed listening to you as much as I expected.” Matthew flirts casually, and he probably says that a lot, but he sounds honest enough that Frank’s face flushes faintly at the praise.
Frank closes his eyes again. “Thank you for this. I didn’t… I didn’t plan on going through with it when I called. It was… I dunno… It started as a joke with a friend and…” Frank stops himself from sharing more. It’s not like Matthew cares. “Yeah, thanks.”
Frank expects a laugh and a flirty line, but Matthew is quiet for a second before he speaks.
“I’m glad… you had fun.”
Frank has the distinct feeling that Matthew meant to say I’m glad I could help. His tone isn’t playful, just open, and Frank knows he means it.
G’night, Matthew.” Because what else was there to say?
“Thank you for calling One On One, Frank… Good night,“ Matthew says softly.
The line disconnects and Frank lets his phone fall from his hand, to land between his thigh and the side of the armchair. He stays in his slouched position for a while as he just breathes, feeling good but also completely drained. He only moves when he scratches at his stomach and encounters the drying come on his t-shirt that he had forgotten about. Frank straightens his sweatpants and stands, removing his t-shirt in one motion.
As he puts it in the washer and pulls on a Henley, Frank thinks about telling Curtis that he did end up calling a phone sex line. He finally decides against it because Curtis would never let him live that down. That’s the reason that Frank tells himself, anyway.