One of my favorite AUs: Booker finding other ways of repaying his debts.
The house was dark, but Booker knocked on the front door. It wasn't uncommon for his clients to desire complete secrecy, at times to a degree that made him have to hide a smile. The door swung open and a hand beckoned him in.
"I'm paying you both for your services and for your silence, Mr. Jones."
"Call me—"
"I'll call you Mr. Jones."
Booker kept his response businesslike. "Call me whatever you want. I'm sure the man from the agency told you that my payment was in advance, in cash."
A heavy envelope slapped down onto the table. Booker picked it up and counted it. It was all there, in small bills as requested. This would clear him with two of the bookies, he thought.
The man came out of the shadows and took him into his arms, his soft lips urgent against Booker's. His already hard cock, visible through his pants in the moonlight, pressed into Booker's thigh.
Booker stepped back and turned on a small light on the table. The man was tall, slender, with flaming red hair and bright blue eyes. He didn't recognize him, but he felt like he should.
"What can I do for you, Mr…"
"Call me Mr. Smith."
"What can I do for you, Mr. Smith?"
"I want to…" He looked down, murmuring to himself.
"Speak up?"
"We can't take long at this. She could come home at any time…"
"Don't worry, I understand. What do you want?"
The red-haired man stepped in and whispered in Booker's ear. "I want you to suck my dick, and then fuck me in the ass."
Booker pointed to the couch. "Take off your pants, then. Sit down there."
The man unbuttons his pants, and his dripping member bounces out. Booker kneels between his legs and starts running his tongue up and down the man's shaft. Uncut, Booker thinks idly as he sucks delicately on the tip and tongues his slit. The man has his head thrown back and his eyes closed, and Booker listens for the telltale signs of an approaching orgasm.
The man's freckled hand is on the back of his neck, and he is pushing Booker's head down so that his cock goes into his throat. After a few thrusts, the man explodes hot cum into him and he milks it with his hand and mouth, making sure that he is done before disengaging.
The man is sweating, and his eyes have taken on a faraway glint to them. "You ready for this next part?" He nods, and pulls his pants down the rest of the way.
Booker undoes his pants, and the man's eyes widen at what he has to offer. "You'll go slowly with that thing, won't you?"
He sits down on the couch. "Come here and give me a little encouragement, won't you?" The man obligingly drops onto his knees and sucks Booker's cock until he was hard enough, then takes out a small jar of medical lubricant from a desk drawer to finish the job.
The man straddles Booker and slowly lowers himself onto the tip, then groans. "Oh, God, you're fucking huge." Inch by inch, he takes the entire length into him, and pulses up and down, Booker closing his eyes to try to last long enough that the client is satisfied.
The man's ass is tight, though, and after a few minutes Booker cums into the man's ass with a long, deep groan. He opens his eyes to find that his client has also finished again into his hand, and is gingerly raising himself up off of Booker.
Booker takes the handkerchief out of his pocket that he carries for these occasions and wipes himself off, then buttons up his pants. The man looks disheveled and thoroughly fucked, and goes over to his wallet, extending an additional amount at him at arm's length.
"Here. A tip. You can take tips, right?"
Booker's eyes gleam at the amount. "Yeah. You know, you seem like a man who's got needs. Just let the agency know if you want another go-around."