John straightened out his jacket and plastered a friendly smile on his face before ringing the bell. The disarming expression, which he had mastered very early on, was a great advantage in his profession.

"Hello," he said as the door was opened by an imperious looking, blonde woman who towered over him by at least three inches, "I'm John, the agency sent me."

The woman looked him up and down and then glanced past him into the street.

"Just one?" she asked, apparently annoyed. "There are three of us."

John allowed his smile to grow just a little and pulled up his sleeve.

"I'm experienced for three," he said, displaying the three decorative lines around his wrist.

Each was different, but they were all Celtic scroll work and they marked him for exactly what he was. His client appeared surprised.

"Well in that case," she said, obviously considering him in a new light, given her change in tone, "come on in. Michael is going to love you."

He followed her into the house, closing the door behind him carefully and watching as the woman disappeared into the room at the end of the hall. The hallway was sparsely furnished, one bookcase and a very expensive painting on the wall, but nothing that really spoke of the owners of the house. He had heard rumours about them of course, working as he did he made sure he knew all the gossip about potential clients, but he had nothing concrete. They were new to London, at least this time around, and everyone was speculating why they had moved over from Dublin.

Plastering false confidence on his face and in his body language, he walked towards the open door and stepped into the room.

"This is John," the woman introduced him, smiling a predatory smile from where she was sitting next to a man with very dark hair and eyes.

He gave the couple his best innocent look and nodded his head. Only when there was movement from his left did he notice the other man in the room. John guessed the guy was about six foot, hence much taller than him, and there was something about this third client which held his eye. The stubble and messy hair were interesting and there were rock hard abs showing under the half open white shirt, but it wasn't just that. It was a little disconcerting.

"What would you like me to call you?" John asked, putting himself back on track and directing his question to the woman, since she was the only one who had spoken to him.

"I'm Lisa, my beautiful Russian here is Nikolai and the tall brooding one is Michael," the woman said, looking him over a second time. "You're a pretty one, aren't you?"

It wasn't an unusual comment and he smiled again.

"I do my best."

"How do you feel about sex?"

The question came from Michael and interrupted his usual rehearsed speech. His appointments most often had a certain order to them, but it seemed not tonight.

"I'm at your service," he said, surprised by the question, but trying not to show it.

Some of his clients wanted sex as well, others didn't, it was all part of the job.

"That wasn't what I asked," Michael said, stepping towards him and giving him a very obvious once over. "Do you like sex or would you rather avoid it?"

Lisa laughed at the question, more of the normal reaction he would have expected from his clients. He had been hired, he was there to do whatever they wanted, which made the question quite an odd one. Not sure why he had been asked meant he didn't really know how to answer it either. It could have been the build up to some sort of game.

"I like sex," he replied eventually, because he could already feel his body's instinctive reaction to the other man and being honest seemed like the best course of action.

Surprisingly, he saw some of the tension leave Michael's stance and Lisa laughed again.

"I told you Michael was going to love you," Lisa said as if she found the whole situation utterly amusing. "He's such a gentleman."

Michael scowled at Lisa, making her laugh more; the whole dynamic was confusing. John had serviced triads before, but this one was very bizarre.

"Well," he said, deciding to put the evening back on track, "if I might use your shower, I'll get ready."

"You came unprepared?" Nikolai immediately jumped on that as if very unimpressed.

John could not help stiffening just a little; he did not like the other man's tone. Of course it was not his place to criticise the clients.

"I am always prepared," he replied, keeping his tone light, "but I came by Tube. I'm sure we would all prefer if I did not stink of rush hour."

"I'll show you the way," Michael said before Nikolai could comment a second time.

Holding his bag a little more tightly than he needed to, John followed the taller man out of the room and up the stairs. He observed everything as they walked, but there wasn't much to see. The whole house was done in white and magnolia and it did not really feel lived in.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, deciding that small talk might break some of the tension.

"We moved in two weeks ago," Michael replied, looking a little surprised by the enquiry, "but we've been in London nearly three months now. Lisa took a long time decorating this place before she would finally let us move in. She had a vision."

John was not impressed with 'the vision', but of course he did not say so.

"It's a nice house," he replied instead, since he was impressed with the architecture, if not the interior design.

Michael favoured him with a smile for that and he had the feeling he had given away a little more than he intended.

"It's white," Michael replied and grinned; "but it's always better to let Lisa have her way for a while. I have a huge green sofa and a widescreen TV on order for next month."

To his surprise, John found himself smiling back without having to think about it. Again it was unsettling, most of his job was about acting and Michael was drawing real reactions out of him.

"What do you like to watch?" he asked.

"Well when I can sneak it past Lisa I do enjoy the footie," Michael told him in a mock whisper. "She still calls me an uncivilised heathen."

The conversation was brought to a pause as Michael opened a door and revealed a huge bathroom. In one corner was a sunken bath that was easily big enough for three, if not four and there was a glass-walled shower in the other.

"Wow," John said, honestly impressed, "that is one hell of a bathroom."

"We have three all the same. Just turn the middle knob on the shower for hot water," Michael said with a smile; "if you touch any of the others you are on your own. Damn thing needs an instruction manual."

"I'll take that under advisement," he said and grinned back, walking fully into the room. "Where would you like me once I'm done?"

The smile on Michael's face slipped a little at the question, almost as if his client was not used to doing this regularly, which had to be untrue.

"The master bedroom is through there," Michael pointed at a door in the side wall; "it'll be the most comfortable."

John nodded and then turned back to the shower; he did not dwell on what was to come, it was a waste of energy.

Michael left him alone and he efficiently stripped off, folding his clothes and putting them in his bag as he pulled out his other supplies. He had prepared for all eventualities before leaving home, but it was part of his role to be completely spotless and London travel did not allow for that. Sliding back the door of the shower, he turned on the water and then went back to his things to pick up what he needed as the water warmed up. When he stepped under the spray it was beautifully hot, just what he had been hoping for. He stood there for a while just enjoying the jets of water on his body, allowing them to loosen any muscles that had tightened thanks to his journey.

When the shower door opened again it pushed him out of his reverie, but he did not stiffen or turn.

"Hello," he said, slipping straight back into character.

"Do you mind?" It wasn't much of a surprise to hear Michael's voice. "I came back to bring you a towel and I couldn't resist."

Only now did he look over his shoulder.

"Of course not," he said with a smile.

He did not bother to point out if Michael wanted him dancing the tango naked in the hallway it was all part of the service.

Usually his clients were much more demanding.

Taking his reply as an invitation, Michael stepped all the way into the shower and John moved forward a little to make room.

"May I help?" his companion asked.

John just handed the other man the shower gel and let his tongue dance over his lips as he watched to see what Michael would do. It wasn't the first time he had taken a shower with a client, but Michael's hands were surprisingly gently when they came into contact with his body. Long fingers slicked with suds ran over his skin and made goose bumps rise over his flesh. The way Michael began to wash him was so nice, in fact, that for a little while he almost forgot why he was there.

"How old are you?"

The question just popped out of his mouth as Michael's arms wound round him, spreading lather up his chest. Of course he realised his mistake instantly, rule number one, never ask a client personal questions, but Michael laughed and didn't seem to mind.

"Am I that obvious?" Michael asked, pressing in close behind him and giving him firsthand knowledge of why Michael had mentioned sex.

"Depends what you mean by obvious," he replied as Michael's erection slid against his arse.

"Lisa keeps telling me I need to mature, not that I'm sure what she means. I'm seventy four, but she looks at me as if I'm twenty most of the time."

John didn't voice his surprise, but he would have guessed Michael was younger than that. Michael didn't act seventy four and of course Michael would never appear his age.

"You don't look a day over thirty," John joked back rather than commenting.

"It's all in the blood," Michael replied and wrapped a hand around John's cock, making him gasp.

It was a little bit of a shock to discover that he was already hard as nimble fingers took hold of him. He was quite capable of making himself aroused when the need came up, but it seemed his body was already reacting to Michael. It was yet another moment to add to the growing catalogue of the unusual about this job.