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It was one of the worst nights of Alex Casey’s life and of course he would spend it in some random bar, he already forgot the name of. It wasn’t even his regular bar, he couldn’t stand seeing any familiar faces this night.
It was already past 3am, the whole place was empty, not even the usual alcoholics sleeping on their seats in peaceful drunken slumber.
The FBI agent was beyond hammered, probably worse than he had ever been in the last 10 years of his marriage. He would have never married that woman, if he knew he would end up on the streets on a random day in April.
He should have known it would end up like this. Casey reached for the whisky glass in front of him, needing three solid attempts until he was able to actually grab it and drink from it. He had lost his suit jacket somewhere in the rain outside. The detective had started drinking right after his wife threw him out of their shared apartment, Casey didn’t even know what time that was. He had been drinking for weeks for what he knew.
“Excuse me, Sir.”
Casey suddenly heard a voice beside him and he turned his head to see who had started talking to him just now.
The older detective looked into the eyes of a pretty young man, probably in his twenties. Too young to be visiting this bar, that was practically designed for old alcoholics who needed a night of self destruction.
“What?” Casey slurred, opening a few buttons of his shirt below the tie that was barely holding on to his neck anymore.
“How about you share that ashtray?”
The young man pointed to the ashtray Casey had filled to the brim with cigarette buds over the course of several hours of drinking, smoking and self loathing.
“Sorry, Kid.” Casey just mumbled, pushing the ashtray across the bar counter, now resting between them two.
The younger man thanked Casey, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. A fresh pack of cigarettes.
“You mind if I bum one?” The detective immediately asked, earning a heartfelt chuckle from the other.
“Of course, I already thought you might want one, the way you looked at them. I’m Y/N by the way.”
Casey’s new found friend handed the older man a cigarette, then picking another one out of the pack and placing it between his lips.
The freshly divorced FBI agent couldn’t help but stare at the younger man. There was something about the way he carried himself, that made Casey curious about his attitude immediately. Maybe it was because of the loneliness he felt, drinking here for hours without a word.
Casey was pulled out of his thoughts, as the cigarette loosely hanging from his mouth was lit by the other man, who tapped the FBI agent’s forehead with his finger afterwards to catch his attention.
“Did you even hear me?”
“Yes I did! Fucking hell kid, let an old man think for a second….Name’s Alex Casey.”
The young stranger laughed again, taking a drag from his cigarette.
“Didn’t have to tell me your full legal name, you know?”
Casey tried to keep a poker face, but he was far too drunk and far too tired for that, so he chuckled a little too, taking another sip of his glass.
“What are you doing here, boy? This isn’t a place for kids.”
Casey rasped, inhaling the cigarette smoke deeply. His head and neck were already a little red from all the alcohol stirring inside of him.
“I’m old enough to be at a bar, Mister Casey. Don’t you worry. I was just feeling a little…I don’t know…lonely I guess.”
“Lonely, huh?”
Casey placed the cigarette back between his lips, pulling up one of the arms of his dress shirt to reveal his wrist watch.
“Guess 4am is a reasonable time to feel lonely then.”
The cigarette was bouncing up and down as the detective spoke.
“How about we change that, Mister Casey?”
The young man downed the remainder of his drink, wandering off into the bathroom without another word.
Casey didn’t know why he ended up following. Not really, actually he knew exactly why. He just didn’t want it to be true. The FBI detective often came back to thoughts about other men, especially when he was so drunk his indoctrinated toxic masculinity that haunted his head was turned off completely. He wasn’t homophobic by any means, but a little voice in his brain still always preached to him that he is a straight man, a woman’s man. This voice fell silent right now.
The bathroom was empty and small, cold but surprisingly clean for a bar like this. As the bathroom door closed with a thud behind Casey, the young stranger leaned against the wall, watching Casey drunkenly work his way towards him, cigarette still hanging from his mouth.
When Casey finally reached him, he slumped forwards, stabilizing himself by placing his hands on the wall behind each side of the other man’s head.
The stranger was a little shorter than Casey but not by much, looking up into blue eyes clouded with desire and empty from the endless amount of whisky.
If Casey could describe the dream guy he wanted to fuck, it would probably be the person staring at him right now. He looked very soft, but had an attitude that Casey liked. The younger man was beautiful in any way, it made Casey’s stomach sink, that he was probably going to ruin him somehow.
The stranger took the cigarette from Casey’s lips, taking one last drag and flicking it into one of the sinks, suddenly wrapping his arms around the older man and pulling him into a kiss.
While Casey tasted like alcohol and smoke, the younger man had a sweetness hiding behind the taste of the cigarette he previously smoked. It was maddening to the detective, tasting someone even sweeter than his ex wife, a younger man above all.
Their tongues intertwined and Casey began running a hand down the sides of the other man, stopping at his hips and pulling him close to him. The other man’s breath hitched, when he felt Casey’s obvious bulge grind against him with a deep thrust of want.
As Casey pulled out of the kiss, he let his hands crawl under the other man’s shirt, continuing to caress his sides.
“I wanna fuck ya.” The detective murmured into the other man’s ear, the latter getting goosebumps, because of the overwhelming feeling of the older man’s touch.
“Let’s take this into the stall.”
Both men quickly cramped themselves into one of the stalls, the young stranger not wasting any time, taking off the older man’s tie and throwing it onto the ground carelessly.
“There’s just one thing I gotta tell you, before we do this.” The younger man said lowly, while starting to unbutton the detective.
“And that is?” Casey slurred, following the other man’s elegant fingers with his eyes.
“I’m Trans.” The other man stated, stopping at Casey’s belt and looking up to him, awaiting an answer. He could see the gears turning inside Casey’s brain.
Trans? What did that mean?
Casey tried rubbing his last remaining brain cells together, thankfully remembering Anderson had talked with him about this before.
They had a case not long ago involving a trans victim and he had been embarrassed that he didn’t know what that meant. Anderson had given him the whole run down over lunch. He wouldn’t be a good detective without her if he was being honest. She was just so much smarter than him. After this long string of thoughts, he came to his decision.
“I don’t care about that.” Casey exclaimed drunkenly, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.
The younger man chuckled. It was a weird way to say that the older man was fine with it, but charming nevertheless.
The stranger’s lips left a trail across Casey’s upper body, kissing down the grey hair that curled on his chest ending right where his pubes became slightly visible above his belt.
Said belt was unbuckled in no time, the zipper of Casey’s trousers followed shortly, until the young man was on his knees in front of the detective, pumping his hard cock with a spit slicked hand.
“Like whatcha seeing?” Casey’s gravely voice asked from above, but the young stranger didn’t even answer and took the older man into his mouth.
“Fuck~…” Casey groaned, the alcohol making him even more sensitive and horny than he already would have been after this god awful day.
The detective wasn’t sure if grabbing the other’s hair was allowed, so he just tangled his fingers into it, that twitched with every wave of pleasure he received from the other’s mouth.
Because of the younger man taking him down his throat now, Casey tipped his head back, grunting and bucking his hips forward a little.
“That’s a-…ah…a good boy right there.” Casey panted, rolling his hips into the other’s mouth.
The man below moaned, moving a hand down between his own legs and rubbing himself through his pants.
Casey noticed that, patting the other’s head in a sign to stop.
“I wanna fuck ya, remember?”
Still out of breath, Casey helped the younger man up and instantly pushed him against the wall to melt their lips together again.
He could taste himself, the pre-cum that already had covered the other’s tongue.
“You got a condom?” Casey mumbled between hasty kisses and the younger man nodded eagerly, fidgeting one out of his jacket.
“What a naughty boy, huh? Did you wanna get fucked by an old man like me?” Casey laughed huskily, turning the other around and kissing the back of his neck.
“I….Considered it. Probably was just my lucky day, Mister Casey.”
The detective’s hand moved past the younger man’s waistband, he didn’t wear a belt so Casey could easily slide into his underwear and cup his wet pussy.
“Already so wet for me, good boy.”
One of Casey’s calloused fingers ran down the other’s slit, dipping in where his clit was and gently rubbing it, while he rolled the condom over his own erection.
The younger man moaned at his experienced fingers, grinding himself against them with need.
“Your voice is beautiful when you moan.” Casey whispered into the other’s ear, slowly stopping the circular motion of his finger and slipping out of the other man’s pants again.
The latter sighed at the sudden loss of stimulation and looked over his shoulder, just to see the older man licking the finger clean that had just pleasured him.
“And you taste even better…Come on, boy. Bend over for me.”
He did as he was told, bending over a little and breaching his hands against the cold tiles of the bathroom stall.
The young stranger took a shaky breath, feeling the detectives cold and solid hands pulling down the other‘s pants and boxers.
A yelp escaped Casey‘s acquaintance’s mouth, because of the older man’s hand squeezing the other’s butt.
“Look at that….”
The younger man felt Casey’s cock hot against his entrance, pushing in carefully while letting out little huffs of pleasure.
“Fucking tight too….god…You alright there?” The freshly divorced detective asked out of breath, resting his hands on the other’s hips.
“Feels good, Mister Casey. Please fuck me.”
Casey couldn’t keep the groan down that rumbled in his chest at his words, now carefully pumping his dick in and out earning some choked groans from the man at the receiving end.
He was so wet and tight it drove Casey insane. It was hard to hold himself back from pistoning into him like a mad man.
“Harder, please, Mister Casey!”
The handsome young man moaned, moving his hips against Casey’s thrusts to encourage him further.
He didn’t have to tell him twice. The detective buried his face in the crook of the other’s neck, kissing and nibbling there. His grey stubbles rubbing along the soft skin and leaving goosebumps as he was picking up speed.
The wet clapping sound, accompanied by low moans and grunts echoed through the bathroom, along with Casey praising how good the other man felt around his cock over and over again.
The FBI agents finger found its way back at the younger man’s front, skillfully rubbing it over his clit in the same rhythm he fucked him in.
“Casey! Fuck I’m gonna-hngh!”
The sentence was cut off, because the young man clenched down onto Casey, sucking him in even deeper with a deep groan. Shaking in the older man’s grip.
The detective wasn’t far behind feeling his orgasm crashing down onto him in waves, making him fill up the condom, twitching inside the other man and biting down onto is neck.
Casey couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at peace with him himself, even though he probably would feel miserable for what he’s done, overthinking it and assuming he only used the other man. Even though this wasn’t true. At least he felt good, embracing the other person in his arms a little longer.