TW: Micah's age gap hookup returns (Lennon). Skip to the next checkered border, summary at the end.

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Micah thought acquiring a sugar daddy would have been more difficult and less egotistically debilitating. It was one thing to have the mortgage covered by Benny, but another to have four nights at a luxury hotel covered by Eugene Lennon.

"Seriously, I'm so grateful," Micah said, uncomfortably, "but please don't pay for dinner, too. I can cover us."

"Don't worry about it," Lennon said. "And I can't say it's not entirely for selfish reasons. I haven't known how to call you back."

Dear God, Micah thought, mortified. They were at the rooftop bar of the hotel with a distant view of Central Park nestled in the sandbox of skyscrapers. All the trees had lost their leaves by then and were cool with fresh frost.

"Don't worry," Lennon said, reassuringly. "I'm not ready for commitment, and I get the impression you aren't either."

Micah's shoulders relaxed. "It's honestly a bad habit of mine I'll probably never break."

"I'm not looking to break it." There was an almost amused smile on his lips that reminded Micah of his own age. To Lennon, he was probably young, confused, and unnecessarily fickle. "And feel free to say no. I won't bother you. But if you're interested in a bottle of cab in your room later this week before you go, give me a call."

Micah was answering before he knew how to stop. "Tomorrow works best, actually. I work late Thursday-Friday-Saturday."

"Tomorrow then." Lennon's smile was softer then, precious with excitement.

On a whim, Micah reached his hand out to his wrist. Lennon's skin was warm. "I don't work tonight, either," he said.

Micah accompanied Lennon to the liquor store down the street where the man buffed his knowledge on Italian reds.

"If my place was in a better state, I'd open a dozen of these bottles for you to test," Lennon said with a sweep of his arm. "I have this device that re-seals them so they don't go bad. They can last up to five years, if you can believe it."

"Cool. I've never been much of a wine drinker."

Lennon swept a bottle under his arm and took it with him to the cashier's, but not without a faint smile for only Micah to see, and a whisper for only Micah to hear. "Let's change that."

Wine-tipsy, Micah realized, was softer on his head. It felt like a pillow, swathing him at a slumber party while getting slap-happy on low-brow humor. But, like always, sex was made clumsy and silly. They had a good time nonetheless until Micah's orgasm collapsed him to the side, dizzy with endorphins.

"Holy shit," he breathed. The mattress felt like heaven. It felt like Alistair's mattress.

If he were sober, he might have chastised himself for thinking about Alistair in a moment like this, with the naked silver fox at his side.

Lennon rolled onto his back, testing his shoulders. "Are all kids your age good at sex now? I was hopeless at your age."

"I don't know," Micah said, when what he really wanted to say was, "Most people aren't good at it. I just love sex too much to care."

"Am I a terrible lay, in your esteemed opinion?"

Micah gave him a weird side-eye. "No, you're really good."

"You didn't come this time, though."

"Coming isn't part of why I have sex."

Now, there was amusement. "Isn't that the point, though?"

Micah rolled his eyes. "Must be a generational thing."

Lennon scoffed. They stared at the ceiling together as Micah replayed their conversation in his head. He wasn't sure if it'd work, but he tried to ease Lennon's concerns anyway.

"Honestly, I upped my dating age because of you."

Lennon shifted to stare at him in mild alarm. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"And have you slept with anyone else in their forties?"

"I'm working on it."

"What, is this a mission of yours?"

Micah's grin turned downright villainous. "It is now." He twisted, prowling on top of Lennon. Lennon's hands found their way to Micah's hips as they kissed. Micah's eyes lingered on Lennon's reddened lips and faint, five o' clock shadow. "Can we go again?"

"Now?" Lennon said, alarmed. Micah had felt him coming back to life against his thigh. "I, um, I suppose—mm!"

Micah smothered Lennon's answer with an open-mouthed kiss as he rocked his hips against Lennon's, using his cock to rub Lennon's back to full hardness.

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After exams the following day, Micah's night was involved much of the same carnal activity, only that time it was followed by Micah's new favorite activity: room service.

He wheeled the cart in himself, donning nothing but an open robe, and arrived at the bed where Lennon had monopolized the left side. He'd been napping the past half hour while Micah was stuck studying.

Micah considered letting the man sleep. Lennon always looked a bit tired, and so Micah took his own food to the table along with his textbook. A message from James alerted Micah to the fact that he'd promised the guy flashcards.

"Shit," Micah whispered under his breath. He bit into his chicken wing, wiped off his hands, and typed his response. Flashcards found, Micah resumed studying and assessing the likelihood that Lennon would still be asleep when James dropped by.

James' arrival was announced via a text that read, "Wow, this place is really nice". Micah was decent by then, hair damp from a shower, and skin soft as a baby's ass from whatever holy moisturizer the staff kept by the sink.

Micah jogged down the hall and to the lobby where James sat next to a fake Christmas present the size of a toilet. The Christmas tree was in full swing—fake icicles dripping light, red ribbons swathed in mistletoe and poinsettias.

Micah could see with perfect clarity why Benny had formed a crush on the guy. Dressed in a white, cable-knit turtleneck, James looked like a Hallmark, besotted love interest.

"What're you doing here?" James asked.

Micah shushed him. The last thing he needed was the hotel staff thinking he was a sex worker or something actually horrible, like an affair partner.

"No comment," Micah said.

"No—!"

Micah held the flashcards out and said, "Here you go. Did you want me to quiz you for a bit?"

James was staring at him with such intrigue Micah squirmed.

"James."

"What?"

Micah flicked the flashcards. "These. Do you want me to quiz you or not?"

"Oh! Um, here? Sure! Yeah, totally."

They found a quiet corner in the lobby to quiz one another with the flashcards. Micah stopped himself more than once from wondering if James' staring was intentional and what the nature of it was.

At the end of the hour, they'd passed through half the deck in between double-checking answer explanations on their phones. Micah's concerns about their exam in the morning dissipated as James got up to leave.

"Thanks for studying with me," Micah said.

"No problem." And then, that stare again. Micah rose an eyebrow at him as James blushed. He stepped close to admit in a whisper, "I'm not gonna lie, when you gave me the address of a hotel, I thought you wanted to sleep with me."

The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. The look of utter embarrassment on Micah's face was enough to make James laugh with relief.

Micah slapped a hand to his forehead, face screwed up in a wince. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I'm not—I mean, you're a great guy and all, but—"

"It's fine. I was gonna turn you down anyway, no offense," James confessed. "Why are you here, though? Do you have family in town or something?"

"Yeah." Let's just go with that.

"Oh. Well, tell them I say hi. If they know who I am."

Micah smiled. They said their goodbyes and he saw James off at the revolving door. The sidewalk outside was blustery with snow as James wound his scarf tighter and walked off with a wave through the window.

In the room, Micah found Lennon awake and getting dressed.

"Hey, sorry, I had to step out for a minute," Micah said.

Truthfully, he regretted he hadn't taken Lennon's initial offer up. He could go for an entire extra week here, and getting free, no-strings-attached sex from Lennon would have been a definite bonus over Christmas. From what he understood, Lennon had no living relatives and would be attending Christmas dinner with friends.

Micah wound his arms around Lennon as the man was adjusting his jacket collar. Purely on impulse, Micah squeezed his ass.

Lennon scoffed a little. "Like you, I have work tomorrow."

"Then spend the night and let me take care of you."

Lennon peered down at him. Micah delighted in having found a silver fox taller than him. When they kissed, Micah pulled him down deeper, fingers sinking under Lennon's waistband with the full intent of keeping him there.

Lennon leaned his hips away. Micah's hands chased after him. Their lips were suctioned together and parted with a pop. "I have to go," Lennon said. He landed one last kiss to Micah's lips. "Do well on your exams, and have fun at work."

"Fine," Micah said. "Have fun at work."

He watched Lennon go and only stood long enough to start thinking of Benny, which didn't take long at all.

He studied until he couldn't keep his eyes open. Under nothing but the dim reading light beside the bed, Micah yawned, set his textbook aside, and settled in to sleep. Sleep, however, evaded him in favor of tears springing to life from behind his eyes. They shocked him with their scalding heat as he squeezed his eyes shut, tucked his knees in, and chanted, Don't think about it. Stop thinking about it. Why are you thinking about it?!

He choked on a sob as he turned into the pillow to suffocate himself to sleep.

______

A part of Micah worried that Benny would show up at his place of work and demand an audience. He did no such thing, and only then did Micah realize what he was feeling was disappointment.

Of course Benny wouldn't fight for our friendship like that, Micah reasoned, he wouldn't fight at all. You knew this would happen. You knew it—!

For breakfast on Friday, Micah finished what was left of Lennon's bottle of cabernet that had gone chalky and bitter overnight. His exam went smoothly, if not tipsy, and Presley texted during it asking what time he'd be there.

Checkout was at noon.

"Ten if that's all right. I work in the evening." Presley replied back with the salute emoji.

He shut off his phone and looked up. It was like a car had side-swiped him.

Hunter was across the hall filling up a water bottle.

Micah had been too engrossed in his phone to have an answer to all his questions. Had Hunter seen him and thus was now acting like he hadn't? Was Hunter ignoring him?

There was no control in Micah's body. He was well and truly stuck there, staring, even as Hunter screwed on the cap to his water bottle and turned. Micah was graced with no more than a vague glance as the man turned to leave.

Micah's jaw dropped. He thinks he can ignore me, he thought, followed by, He thinks he's better than me, prick!

In Micah's fantasies, he'd charge over to Hunter, grab him by the collar, and show him a piece of his mind (his fist, meet Hunter's face). Reality, however, meant that Micah succumbed to his cowardice with a slap of his hand to his forehead.

Idiot, he thought, and left. Not only had Hunter just waltzed off without a word, but whatever glance Hunter had spared him had been of Micah looking like a deer in headlights.

Without exams to keep his overactive imagination company, Micah threw everything into the bar. He exhausted himself at work by performing tricks he had his co-bartender would practice during lull periods, and in the conclusion of one such toss of the mixer, he caught it and made eye contact.

With Alistair.

Micah was grateful he'd waited to be noticed until after Micah's drinks were out of the air. The tourists he'd been showing off to clapped, amazed. Micah spent the rest of the time doctoring the beverage while stealing glances at Alistair down the bar.

There wasn't any space for him at Micah's end of the bar. The place was packed, though rush hour was calming down. He wondered what Alistair was doing out this late at night, and at Micah's place of work, no less.

Before he could even manage to swap spots with his co-bartender, Alistair had gotten up and transferred his drink to a coaster at a freshly-open seat. Directly in front of Micah.

"What're you doing here," Micah said.

"Are you homeless or something?"

Micah blinked, and had the wherewithal to be made uncomfortable by the comment. Cheeks hot, he glanced at the other patrons who hadn't overheard, but were there nonetheless.

"I don't want to talk about it," Micah said. He braced his hands on the bar between them and said, "What're you having?"

"Old fashioned."

"Unoriginal."

"Fair, but I think you can make it better than most bartenders in this city."

"Yeah, right. Bourbon or whiskey?"

"Bourbon."

As Micah acquired the fixings, he returned to Alistair's seat with a glass of ice. "Where did you hear about me not living with Benny anymore?" Micah asked.

"He asked me if you were living with me," he said, and Micah barked out a laugh. "My thoughts exactly. He didn't believe me and showed up in person to confirm it."

Micah bristled at the idea of Benny hunting him down all across Mahattan. He hadn't thought to check over his shoulder before going to and from the hotel and work.

"He also said you aren't answering Kennedy's calls anymore."

It was true. After the first call had nothing to do with Presley and Micah's Christmas plans, Micah had stopped answering. He hadn't blocked her, though, which meant he still got texts. "Meeting at X restaurant at 8." "X club tonight." "Brunch?"

Micah used this paper-trail to know what parts of the city to avoid, though he'd only been leaving the hotel for exams and work.

"Are you Tinder couch surfing?"

"No."

There was sharp aggravation in Alistair's sigh. He didn't believe Micah, and Micah didn't blame him. He watched as Alistair drummed his hands on the counter and looked away.

It didn't take a genius to puzzle out how concerned Benny was with Micah's living situation. He hadn't bothered to apartment hunt because he knew he couldn't afford it. The deposit would clear out his savings entirely and leave nothing for rent.

"I'm not," Micah reassured.

"Okay. Then what do I tell Benny?"

"What?" Micah paused to assess a newcomer arriving at his side of the bar. He held a finger up for Alistair to hold that thought. When he returned, he was more livid than when he'd left. "You aren't going to tell Benny anything. I don't want him knowing where I am."

"Deadass?"

"Never say, 'deadass,' to me again. What are you, in high school?"

Alistair waved his hand about as if scenting the aroma of Micah's choice bourbon. "I just like how it feels in my mouth. Deadass. Deadass."

"I'm walking away."

"He's your best friend," Alistair insisted, "and he's worried. At least ease your friends' concerns. I won't tell them where you are."

Micah rolled his eyes and proceeded to ignore Alistair for the rest of his shift, which was saying something. He worked until one in the morning, and after his coworkers had determined Alistair wasn't a stranger, they hadn't even kicked him out as they cleaned up.

Micah swiped Alistair's last empty glass to finish his load of dishes. In the now even dimmer light of the bar, Alistair toiled away on his phone.

Micah debated leaving through the back and not telling Alistair. He didn't want the guy following him to his hotel, but he also didn't want to speak again. It was a long, awkward, exhausting workday.

Micah and his coworker counted their tips. He folded his stack and tucked it into an envelope to store in his back pocket. Before leaving, he stalled at the bar, fidgeted, and stomped over to Alistair.

"Come with me," he muttered, and walked off to the back. Alistair followed him through the narrow hall to the door out into the alley.

"So where are you staying?" Alistair said, already clicking his lighter. He bent into the flame to light his cigarette.

Micah crossed his arms. "A hotel."

Alistair blinked. It was even more unrealistic than an apartment. Not only were hotels expensive, it was the holidays. Everyone and their goddamn grandmother wanted to see the Christmas lights and Rockefeller.

"Yeah, right."

"I'm serious."

Whatever sincerity Alistair assessed on Micah's face led him to pluck his cigarette out of his mouth and say, "Who's paying for it?"

"It's just until tomorrow," Micah said. "Checkout's at noon."

"And then what."

"None of your business," Micah said. "Just tell Benny I'm safe."

"I don't believe you."

"What?"

"Who just pays for a hotel and isn't having an affair. I don't believe that you're paying for it yourself."

Micah bristled. "It's none of your business who I sleep with anyway."

"Have you gotten tested?"

"What? Yes."

"And?"

"I've had sex since the test. It doesn't matter anymore."

Alistair groaned, pacing away. Micah took his brief absence as a means to escape, hurrying out of the alley and around the corner. Alistair chased after him, cursing.

"So you're having affairs now? With married men. Great."

"How else can I say, 'It's none of your business'? Shall I try in French? Ça te regarde pas, vu?"

Alistair sputtered. He was fully in step with Micah now. "You know French? Why haven't you spoken it in bed before?"

"Because I only took a year of it with Kennedy."

"What else do you know?"

Micah toyed with the few phrases he remembered. "Où se trouvent les toilettes."

Alistair burst into laughter. Micah shoved him, nearly into oncoming traffic. One of Alistair's feet skidded off the curb on a patch of slush. He staggered to regain balance, cigarette pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

"I took it because I thought I could hook up with a French guy," Micah said. "But French guys fucking hate Americans, so."

"Oh, woe is you," Alistair teased, all smiles. "Take me to your hotel?"

Micah squinted at him. "I'm sleeping with someone else. What part of 'the test is out of date' don't you get?"

"How many?"

"One."

"And since you two had sex... I take it he's also clean?"

Micah saw where this was going and didn't understand. "I thought you weren't okay with that."

"I'm not, but I have condoms on me."

Micah sucked in a sharp breath. He hesitated at the intersection. They needed to get to the subway, which meant turning left. He glanced behind them where they'd already passed the entrance to Benny's flat.

He spared Alistair a scowl. "Follow me," he muttered, and led the way to the subway.

A/N: Summary for those who skipped Lennon's scene. Micah admits that he upped his dating range on Tinder/Grindr because of Lennon LOL Lennon isn't ready for commitment and neither is Micah.