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It only takes a month after being thrown off swat for Street to cave and go back to what he knows best, to what he’s known far before being a cop. The moneys nice and going down on random people isn’t so bad anyways, the full on sex people always leave a nice tip, complimenting Streets “techniques” and loving how he can go from submissive to dominant in a second.
Besides, it’s not like he fully quit being a cop, he still works patrol in the daytime hours, still helps people and catches bad guys or whatever. The other work is just for extra money and some adrenaline rush.
Maybe he should’ve done that back when he was on swat? It could’ve helped him calm down or— Street shoves those thoughts far, far down, he refuses to think about swat or about the team, he’s never going to get his job back and he has to be at peace with it. Even if he’s still a little pissed off about it. Working the streets isn’t even that bad anymore, he makes a good amount of money, he can defend himself if need be, and doesn’t have to worry about heading back to his apartment since he’s in a random hotel each night.
The apartment he pays rent on isn’t even really his anymore. It’s Karen’s, has been for a while now, he had started to go out at night in a ways to get away from the building but now he’s told Karen straight up that he isn’t coming back, that he’ll pay the rent but it’s hers, that he can’t live with her again. No surprise there.
Half of Street knew how bad of an idea it was to let Karen live with him after she got out of jail, Hondo was right no matter how much Street doesn’t want to admit it, but that’s over and done with for as far as James is concerned. He likes staying in the motels, it reminds of his teenage days in the system, and gives him an odd sense of nostalgia.
Though Street can’t say he was expecting to be stuck in this situation.
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It had started as a normal night, he hadn’t found anyone he particularly liked or wanted to put his mouth anywhere near so he passed on a few guys, and one girl, but that’s just how it goes. For him at least, other people, more desperate for money, will take whoever and whatever they can get. Street tells himself he has standards but that might be a lie, he just looks for people that seem like fun.
As the sky grew darker and city lights lit up the small parking lot he’s sat in— empty aside from a few other workers and right behind a little pizza shop that is fine with people camping out by his dumpsters— Street sighed a bit to himself, contemplating getting his own hotel room and not even bothering with anyone tonight, until he gets approached.
He doesn’t look up at first, swiping on his phone and waiting for the mystery man to say something or run off. He’s got nice work boots on, dark blue jeans bunched at his ankles, and if Street glances up just enough he can see how the man fidgets with his gold wedding band on his left hand. Typical. But nervous so maybe not.
When Street does let his eyes travel all the way to the man’s face his whole body pauses a moment. Eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar but quickly closed, the last person he expected to see was Deacon Kay but hey, if he wants to pay Street, he’ll gladly take the money, even if it questions his morals a bit.
“Just gonna stare?” He straightens his back up and puts on a small smile, it seems to soften Deacon, making him breathe a much needed breath.
“Uh- no, no, Ahem.” Street surveys around Kay for a moment or two, there’s no cars parked in the spots he’d expect any of the other twenty squad members to park, Deacon wouldn’t be this genuinely nervous if he had a wire on, nor this red in the face. He’s alone.
“What’re you doing here Deac?” There’s what looks like two crumpled hundred dollar bills in his calloused hand, having been balled up then flattened over and over from what Street can tell. Two hundred is low for practically anyone in this part of town but this is Deacon, Street will cut the rules just a bit.
“Street….” It sounds pathetic. All pitchy and desperate, Deacon's head drops to stare at his feet and fingers spinning his loose wedding band around.
“You just wanna talk or do you wanna get off? I can’t offer both, it’s one or the other.” He stands and basically decides for both of them what they’re gonna be doing tonight.
It’s easy to grab Deacon's hand and start walking him over to the motel across the road, there’s no words of protest or even a resistance in Deacon's hand, he follows idly. It’s honestly not that surprising to Street, Kay being here is of course a big one, but him being a nervous wreck isn’t, he’s not the type that Street would think has done this even once before.
The room Street rented earlier in the night clicks open in a way that definitely isn’t secure, he doesn’t care, that’s part of the thrill. And turning to see Deacon's big eyes tracking Streets every movement makes it all that much more enjoyable, who knew the Catholic Dad had such a taste for twenty five year olds?
“Never done this, have you?” The head shake he gets in response is jerky and tentative, David not moving an inch from where he stands in front of the closed door even as Street sits against the squeaky mattress.
“How much you got there?” It’s almost embarrassing how the older man fumbles with the bills in his hand, stretching his arm to give Street the crumpled three hundred, huh, more than he thought.
“I’m usually more expensive than this Deac, but I’ll make an exception and blow you, k?” Street can’t help but smirk when a choked breath escapes Kays mouth, so easy to fluster, not a complaint though, it makes Streets job all that much easier
“I need some words.”
“Ye-yeah that’s okay, that’s good.” Good, Street smiles at it before he steps off the bed and crowds Deacon to the wall beside the door.
A beat passes before he presses his mouth to the taller man’s, lacing his fingers into the short hairs at the back of Deacon's neck as he swipes his tongue once over Kay’s lips, eagerly exploring when Deacon parts his lips and moans into Streets mouth. He’s already halfway hard, James can feel it through the tight material of Kays jeans when he reaches a hand down to palm at Deacon's length.
Another moan tells Street it’s time to actually get to work. He sinks to his knees quickly, licking his lips once Kay’s boxers and jeans pool at his ankles, leaving his thick cock on full display. He’s at least seven inches, wider than Street is himself, a sheen layer of precum coating his tip before Street even touches his mouth to the straining muscle.
The noise that drops from Deacons mouth once Street wraps around him can only be described as obscene, it even takes Street off guard, has Deac really not been with someone in this long? Whatever, this should go quickly then.
“Street- go-god- Jesus Christ—!” A hand tangles into Streets hair swiftly, tugging him forward til his nose touches Kay’s pelvis and he chokes on the wideness of Deacons cock, pulling off with a cough and drool dripping down his chin. He hasn’t choked like that in forever.
“Sorry- I am sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough, I’m so—!” Street shakes his head and wipes his mouth, stopping Kay’s frantic apologies.
“It’s okay, just took me off guard, you can pull my hair but you gotta warn me a bit before pushing into my throat like that.” There’s still a petrified expression on Deacons face but he nods along.
“Do you want to use my throat like that?” The room goes dead silent for what feels like an eternity after Street asks the quiet question.
“…I don’t want to hurt you.” There’s an undeniable softness to Deacons words, his hand finds Streets jaw tenderly, thumb brushing against Streets spit dried cheek and breathing a little more heavily.
“You can be rough, it’s okay. I can take it, daddy, I promise.” A lust ignites in Deacons eyes at Streets whisper, he nudges James forward til he wraps around Deacons cock again, a groan leaving both of their throats at the sensation.
“Fuck, so good. You ready for me to use you?” There’s newfound confidence in Kay’s words, a smile small on his face when Street nods as much as he can.
Everything after that is messy and rough. Deacon is more vocal than Street ever thought he’d be, praising Street like no other, slamming his cock down James’ throat as harshly as he can, holding his head still with a hand gripping into the thickest parts of Streets hair, and shooting all over Streets face when he does finish.
It’s in his hair, dripping off his nose, falling onto his lips where James can lick it off but he’ll need a proper shower to really be clean. Street goes to stand, walk to get a towel maybe, but he can’t when Deacon kneels in front of him, a hand on Streets jaw again.
“Let daddy clean you up darling.” A heat rises up to his cheeks when Deacons tongue flicks out to swipe his cum off Streets cheek, moving all around his face with kitten kisses and gasps escaping Street at just how turned on he really is from this all. He never thought in a million years he’d have his ex-teammate eating his own cum off Streets face, but he’s here, and fuck if it isn’t hot.
“Stay, I don’t care about the money, just— fuck- stay. Please daddy.” It’s all Deacon needs to hear. He moves them both up to the bed in record time, stripping Street out of his too-tight pants and too-short shirt, leaving him clad in boxers while Kay pulls his own shirt off, gold cross necklace dangling on his bare chest and matching ring cold on Streets hip when David wraps a hand around his side.
“You’re so gorgeous baby, always thought you were perfect for me.” Quick presses of kisses cover Streets thighs and abs between Deacons words of praise, his hands smoothing up Streets soft skin.
“Knew you looked at me longer than the others, knew you wanted me.” Street arches up when Deacon flattens his tongue against the bulge in Streets boxers. He really did see Kay looking an extra few seconds in the locker room or after a workout when James was nice and sweaty, it was nothing that Street thought to bring up or report, but it was known to him, and maybe he’d play into it a few times.
“Course I wanted you. You’re mine, like you were made for your daddy.” Whimpers start to fall from Streets mouth when Deacons tongue starts swirling and his head starts bobbing, working Street like he’s done this a thousand times and knows exactly what James likes. Like Street really is made for him.
“Fuck— wanna be yours, so good daddy, so good—!”
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They fall asleep wrapped around one another that night, Deacon holding Street to his chest and rubbing a hand at his back til he falls asleep, a wedding ring indent on Streets hip from where Deacon had held as they fucked, hand shaped bruise matching the band placement, a sweet kiss pressed to Streets hairline before David drifts off himself.
They’ll learn to become accustomed to this, the bruises and scratches, the secrecy, even after Street eventually gets back on the team, they still rent that motel room out and explore each other in the dim yellow lighting, that extra bond nobody else has nor knows about.
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