The Change You Wanted

Notes: Yay! Another story in a teeny little fandom with Kiefer Sutherland that almost no one will ever read. XD I'm such a bitch for small/non-existent fandoms. But Phonesex- er, Phonebooth - was an awesome movie, so it deserved some Epic! slash.
Special thanks to my muses and inspiration. You know who you are.
Enjoy!


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The Change You Wanted - Part 1


They always made it seem so simple in the movies. Former asshole has a change of heart, lives happily ever after. Part and parcel, right? The reward for doing the right thing?

It wasn't so simple for Stu Shepard. He tried. The threat of the man on the phone - the man who had walked up to him while he was in the ambulance, plain as day - held true. So even when things started to fall apart, he stayed decent. Stayed truthful. But more and more he began to realize that the only thing he'd ever been truly good at was lying.

Three months after the incident, he received the first phone call. Just to check up on him, the caller said. To let Stu know he was still keeping tabs on him. Still watching.

Things got worse. He tried harder, and failed more. The beautiful apartment he'd had with Kelly was lost, he couldn't afford it doing the kind of work he was honestly qualified for. He moved, then moved again, finally ending up in a tiny bachelor pad with a leaky roof and noisy neighbours. He hated it.

The man called more often. Just to check up on him of course. Gradually, the calls came closer and closer together, until he could expect them almost once a week. And somehow, somewhere along the line he stopped hating them so much, and found himself anticipating the next one. Trying to guess when he'd call, what he'd say. Talking more, opening up. Like the man was a friend, and not some homicidal psychopathic stalker.

He was drunk the first time the voice told him, low and husky, to touch himself.

Like he always had, he obeyed. He woke up the next morning feeling dirty and used, but somehow more alive than he'd been since he stepped out of the phone booth.

He swore it wouldn't happen again, that he wouldn't give in to the man's demands. What could he do to him now, after all? But he did, time and time again. He wanted it. He started to live for it. So ironic, wasn't it? That the man who had ruined his life was now the only thing he looked forward to?

"I can't do this anymore," he said firmly one night, in a sudden fit of resentment. Who the hell did this man think he was?

There was silence for a moment, and he wondered if he'd finally managed to shock the voice on the phone. But when he spoke again, he sounded just as amused, just as superior as he always did. "Really? Because it seems to me that you rather enjoy it, Stu."

"Yeah well, believe it or not I can't just survive on your phone calls. Did it ever occur to you to consider what our lives would be like after you were done fucking with us?"

"I thought I was still fucking with you. Or at least fucking you." A soft chuckle.

"You know what I mean, dammit!" The words came out angrier than he intended, but perhaps that was a good thing. "Look. This whole living live honestly thing? I really kind of suck at it. In case you actually gave a flying fuck. Not that you'd know anything about living an honest life."

"I know more than you'd think, Stu. Does this mean you're giving up?"

"Would it make you actually show your face instead of hiding behind the damn telephone?" His anger made him bold, bolder than he'd been in a long time. "No, I'm not giving up. I just need to focus on something other than waiting for your damn phone calls."

There was silence for a long time, and for a brief moment he wondered if the man had put down the receiver. Then he spoke again. "There's a bank of pay phones on Broadway and third. The last one will have a phone number written on the back splash with the name Archie. Come to the phone, call the number. You'll receive further instructions."

For a moment, he wanted to tell the man to fuck off, hang up on him. But they both knew that he wouldn't. "So your name is Archie?"

A laugh. "You know me better than that, Stu. But if you follow my directions, I'll think about telling you my name."

"And that's all?"

"Wait and see. Now, should I expect your call?"

He gave a soft sigh, staring at the door of his shabby apartment. "Kelly left me."

Maybe it was his imagination, but the voice sounded somehow gentle. "I know. Why do you think I'm still calling you?"

Stu leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes against it all for a long moment. He could end it, he could. He could just say no, and it would all be over. He needed to say no, like he'd decided he would, long before this phone call came. "... I'll call."

"Good." And then the line went dead.


It took him almost half an hour to get to the phone booth, by taxi and then on foot in twilight New York, wondering the whole way why the hell he was doing this. But the number was there, as promised. For a good time, call Archie. He leaned against the booth divider, clicked open his cell phone and dialling the number.

"Hello Stu. I'm impressed. You're extra dedicated tonight."

"How do you know I'm not looking for Archie?"

A chuckle. "Caller ID, you're smarter than that."

"All right. So what are my instructions?"

"Come home."

"You're at my house?"

"I'm in front of your mailbox, Stu. There's a key inside now. If you can find out what it's for, you'll get another clue."

"Oh come on. You're going to make me go on some fucking wild goose chase - "

"Think of it as a treasure hunt. If you give up, you don't get what's at the end."

"A bullet through the brain?"

"I would have shot you long before now if I were going to. Stop being angry and think, Stu. What is it you want? What is it you really want?"

"I want my life back. I want - I want Kelly back."

"You want a woman who wouldn't stand by you when you decided to make an honest living? Come on, Stu. Don't deceive yourself."

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. Maybe I don't know what I want."

"Well, I'm glad you can admit that. Maybe by the end of the night you'll have figured it out."

"Look. I'm really sick of playing your games...."

"Jay."

"Jay? That's your name?"

"No, but it starts with a J." He chuckled, and despite himself, Stu still found it as arousing as he always did. "Just a bit of incentive, since you've done so well so far. Now, come get the key from your mailbox. Don't take too long. You don't want to miss your target."

"Miss my target? What target?"

"Talk to you later, Stu." And then he was gone."

There was a key in his mailbox, but it looked more like a locker key than anything else, with a neat little tag labelled "309". Beside it was a note that simply said "Switch things around. You'll like what you end up with. J."

Great. Locker 309, and a target he might somehow miss if he took too long. And his only clue was this goddamn note? In frustration, he flipped open his cell phone again, and called the last number. It was out of service, not that he was surprised. The number the man - J - had called from earlier was out of service as well. Like they always were.

He went back up to his apartment, put the key and the note on the table while he made himself another cup of coffee. 309. Switch things around. J. What was meaningful, and what was junk?

He dug out the unused yellow pages and looked under 309. He looked under switch, around, things, jackass, anything he could think of. But there was nothing that looked like it would have lockers. Finally he wrote down both phone numbers the man had called from, and stared at them.

Switch things around?

He swapped the second and third groups of numbers, to make two new New York phone numbers. The first number he called woke up a very angry sounding woman who told him to fuck off in what possibly sounded like three different languages. But the second....

"J and S Rent a Locker, how may I help you?"

His heart stopped. "I'm sorry - who is this?"

"This is J and S Rent a Locker. Can I help you with something?" The woman sounded a little confused.

"You have lockers?"

He could hear her trying not to laugh. "Yes sir, that's what we do here."

"Where are you located?"

"We're on 47th west and 35th street. By Penn station, sir."

Penn Station. Miss his target... a train? He grabbed the key and was out the door even before he'd answered, leaving the coffee untouched on the table. "Thank you. Thank you so much m'am. I'll be there soon."

The taxi driver ended up with a rather larger tip than he'd intended, but the man had gotten him to the locker rental ten minutes earlier than he'd expected. He ran in, showing the key to the woman at the desk, who gave him a little amused smile and pointed him down the hall.

In the locker was a single train ticket and two twenty dollar bills, nothing else. He read the ticket over twice before it finally sunk in. Acela Express, New York to Baltimore. 9pm. New York to fucking Baltimore? He expected him to go to Baltimore?

He put the ticket back in the locker and slammed it shut, getting half way down the hall before he turned back and grabbed the ticket again. 9pm, twenty minutes to get to the station and find the train. Twenty minutes to make up his mind. He started for Penn Station anyway... he could decide on the platform.

He bought an egg salad sandwich out of the vending machine when he arrived, which was dry and had too much mustard. It didn't make the decision any easier, as he paced the length of the train platform. An entire train ride to Baltimore was a long way to regret the decision. But then again, the rest of his life in New York was an even longer time to regret not getting on the train.

And really... what did he have left to lose at this point?

The Acela Express arrived, and he got on, finding his seat next to the window and sinking into it, suddenly weary. Watching the platform move by him as he left the station, he finished the end of the sandwich and leaned his chair back, wondering once again why the hell he was doing this, and still not having an answer for himself.

His phone rang five minutes later, a private number. He answered it with shaking hands. "... hello?"

"Stu. I hear you're on the train. I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd make it."

"Yeah, well, I'm here now, and I hope you're not fucking jerking me around. Do you know how much it costs to buy a ticket back from Baltimore?"

"Of course I do, Stu. I bought your ticket. Now, you might as well relax, you have almost three hours ahead of you. Have a nap. I'll call and make sure that you're awake before your stop."

"And you'll be there? Are you on this train?"

A chuckle. "Of course not, I'm one ahead of you. So don't waste time looking for me. Just relax."

He yawned despite himself. "Why are you doing this?"

"I thought it might be nice to switch things around a bit. Time for a change. Don't you think so, Stu? You want a change, something more than what your life is like right now?"

"The last time my life changed I lost everything," he growled, resisting the urge to hang up the phone.

"The last time your life changed, you gained the ability to stop being an asshole. Forget about Kelly. She didn't deserve you. It's time for you to take control of your life again."

"And just how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"Wait and see." The voice sounded far, far too smug, and he bit his tongue on an angry retort.

"Fine."

"Get some sleep, Stu. You've been very good so far, very dedicated. It won't go without reward, I promise you."

For a moment, Stu was afraid that he meant more phone sex, but the man said nothing more, and after a moment he gave a sigh of relief. "Okay. I'll keep playing your game for a while longer."

"Good. Sweet dreams, Stu." And then he was gone.

Stu considered the day old paper that had been on the seat beside him, then the free magazines in the seat back pocket. But in the end, he just took the caller's advice, leaning back in his chair and quickly falling asleep.

~~~~~


"Good morning, Stu. You have twenty minutes until Baltimore Station. Did you have a nice nap?"

He blinked sleepily in the light of the train, glancing out the window. It was pitch black outside, lit only by the occasional streak of light as the high speed train whizzed through the countryside. "I guess so."

"Good. Now, listen carefully. When you get off the train, take the express shuttle to the inner harbour. Catch a westbound taxi outside of the Hyatt. Continue for twenty blocks, and you'll find an apartment building across from a convenience store. Get out of the cab at the convenience store - if you don't have cash, use the two twenties that I left for you. Buy something to eat if you're hungry. Then cross the street and walk down the alley behind the apartment building until you find a blue sedan with out of state plates. Do you think you can do that, Stu?"

"You're not going to snuff me, are you?"

"You're so paranoid, Stu. But no, I give you my word that I will not harm a hair of your pretty little head. Now, I recommend you use the washroom before the train stops. You may not have a chance for a while."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"While I appreciate that an intelligent mind will ask questions, yours get a little tiring sometimes, Stu. Take a piss. I'll see you later."

The phone clicked off, and Stu glared at it for a long moment, then gave in and did as the caller asked, like he always did.

He called again while Stu was in the cab. Another unnamed number, but the same voice, like a rich, throaty purr. "Hello, Stu. I hope you're finding your way."

"Why the hell are you sending me on this wild goose chase anyway?" he half-growled, staring angrily out the window. But the truth of it was, the closer he got it, the tighter the knot of excitement tied itself in his core. It was the same kind of anticipation he felt when he thought about waiting for the man's phone calls, but tenfold. He had to be setting them up for a meeting. What other explanation was there?

"I told you that already, Stu. Change. You want it, I want it. Believe it or not, you're almost finished your treasure hunt. Are you excited?"

"Thrilled," he tried to say as sarcastically as he could, but the man on the other end of the phone only laughed.

"Your sarcasm is adorable. Did anyone ever tell you that, Stu? Ah - looks like you're almost there. I'll talk to you again soon."

He slipped the phone back in his pocket as the cab stopped, paid the cabbie and went into the convenience store. He wasn't particularly hungry, and in the end he just bought a pack of breath mints, chewing on two as he left the store and crossed the street, walking toward the apartment building. The alley he turned down was unlit once he passed the apartment building, and he had to walk slow, squinting in the darkness at the plates of the parked cars that he passed. How the hell was he supposed to tell what colour they were?

The first car he found with out of state plates - West Virginia plates, strangely enough, was parked behind a dark coloured panel van. He stared at the plates, then the car. Was it blue? What was supposed to happen next?

What he didn't expect were the arms that slipped around him silently from behind, the sweet smelling cloth that one hand clamped over his mouth and nose while the other pulled him tight up against the warm body behind him. "Don't struggle, Stu," came the soft purr in his ear, a voice he hadn't heard in person for over a year, though so many times on the phone.

A rush of desire shot through him as the drug took hold, and he couldn't have struggled even if he wanted to. He felt dizziness and darkness wash over him, and gave into the welcoming warmth of oblivion.


~~~~~


When Stu awoke, he was warm, and his head ached. It was still dark, but that was due more to the blindfold tied over his eyes, and when he tried to spit out the mouth full of cotton, he found that it was actually cotton - or something similar at least, stuffed in his mouth, tied in place. His hands were tied behind his back, as well as and his feet. From the sound and vibration, he seemed to be in a moving vehicle, wrapped up in a blanket.

... in his underwear.

He pondered this for a moment. He didn't hurt, other than his head. So he hadn't been raped or otherwise mishandled. Where the hell were his clothes? Was it supposed to keep him from running away? He tried to call out - probably not the wisest thing to do in a kidnapping, but he had no doubt on who this kidnapper was, and he knew that the man had undoubtedly planned this all well enough that crying out wouldn't matter either way.

The vehicle continued moving, however, and after a short time, he gave up. The caller would do things on his own schedule. He always did.

The van slowed, and the noise of traffic lessened. He thought that perhaps they'd pulled off onto a smaller road, then knew for certain that they'd pulled off onto a dirt road, bumping over gravel that was more than a little uncomfortable, from his place on the floor of the vehicle. It must have been that panel van, some part of his mind clued into. And he'd walked right into the trap, willingly. A lamb to the slaughter.

The van stopped, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then he heard the sound of someone moving toward him, kneeling beside him, felt the blanket over his face pulled back.

"Hello, Stu."

God, he'd forgotten how much more appealing the voice was in person. He felt fingers trail over the side of his face, and moaned despite himself. Why was he moaning? Why the hell was he turned on? He was tied up in the back of a goddamn van, kidnapped and thrown around like a sack of potatoes. He ought to want to punch the bastard out, not to... to....

His face was cupped gently, tilted up, and he felt the man's breath whisper softly against his skin, felt his lips brush warmly against his bottom lip, then capture it, sucking on it gently, felt his tongue flick lightly against it. He was moaning again, trying to press closer, trying to encourage more sensation, hips arching against nothing but ridiculously turned on just from that strange kiss.

The man chuckled softly, one hand still cupping his face, and drew back, though he could still hear his voice very close. His fingers stroked over the cloth that held the gag in place. "I'm sorry about this, Stu, I really am. I do so enjoy your voice. But there are precautions that must be taken, even for you, hence the blindfold.

"But I've already seen what you look like," he tried to say, though it came out only as a series of 'murrs' and gurgles.

The man chuckled, and Stu felt his lips press against his forehead. "Hush, Stu. You can put that pretty voice of yours to work when we get to where we are going. In the meantime... I believe I promised you a reward for being so obedient, didn't I?"

He felt the blanket that was over him pulled back more, felt nimble fingers smoothing over his undershirt, down his side, and he moaned again through the gag despite himself, drawing a sharp gasp as the man's fingertips whispered over his partial erection. His hips arched up into the touch before he could stop himself, but the hand pulled back, leaving him thrusting against nothing. He heard another laugh, soft, but not taking mirth at his distress. The laugh was pleased. "Do you trust me, Stu?"

Stu hesitated, then managed a nod, and heard approval in the voice. "Yes, of course you do. You've proved it, haven't you. I'm very proud of you." He felt the man lean over him more, heard his voice right by his ear as his fingers made contact with his cock again, stroking him slowly through the fabric. "Do you want this, Stu? What I've been teasing you with on the phone for months? You want me to give it to you?"

He nodded, not even hesitating. He would have begged for it, if he hadn't been gagged. The fingers curled around his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, stroking him slowly with a soft, appreciative noise. "All ready so hard for me. Did you like my little game, Stu?" The voice lowered, grew huskier, and it just made him want him more. "Did it make you ache for it? Do you think about me when you touch yourself at night, or just when you're on the phone with me?"

Stu was nodding, whimpering assent, anything to keep it going, to encourage him more. He felt the hand slip down the front of his boxers to wrap around his erection, and cried out against the gag, arching up into the touch. He felt the man trail kisses slowly along his jaw, stretching out next to him, felt him capture his bottom lip again with his own, sucking at it with a low groan. "Pretty little Stuart in your raspberry suit. I never would have killed you. It would be a sin to silence that sweet voice."

He fought against the gag, fought to return the kiss, whimpering helplessly, but heard only a chuckle, low, approving. Husky with desire. "Just relax, Stu. There will be plenty of time for that later. Just relax, and let me hear how much you like this, how much you've wanted this." He felt the man's lips on his throat, on his chest, moaned as the pad of his thumb rubbed slow circles over the head of his aching cock, slick with precum, rubbing it into his skin. "That's it... moan for me, Stu. Show me how good it feels. You want more? Show me. You want me to suck it? Your beautiful cock in my mouth? Tell me."

He went almost wild at the thought, moaning at his words, hips bucking up into his touch, and if his hands had been free he would have clenched them in the man's hair and forced him down to his dick. He heard another pleased chuckle, and felt the man move down more, felt a hand clench his hip to hold him still, fingers curling around the base of his cock as a hot, wet swipe of the tongue ran up the underside, making him cry out against the gag at the rush of sensation.

"That's it, Stu. God, you're so hot for me. So hard. Your cries are so beautiful, did I ever tell you that?" He felt lips against the tip of his erection, sucking lightly, teasing, licking, then parting to take his head in his mouth with a low, appreciative moan, tongue pressing firmly up against the underside, against the sensitive spot just under his head that almost made him come right then and there. Then the mouth pulled back, breath cool on his wet skin, voice throaty and pleased. "It's why I kept calling, you know. I could have just watched you, I could have just jerked to you wandering around your apartment shirtless. But I wanted to hear you. I wanted to make you moan."

The mouth closed over his head again, sucking hungrily, taking him deep into his mouth until his lips met where his fingers were stroking the base of his cock. He pulled back, almost away, then did it again and again, groaning around him, finally pulling back to speak again. If it was anyone else, Stu would have cried in frustration when he stopped. But this was part of it, and it pleasured him just as much as the touch, hearing that low, husky voice, the words that he said. "God, Stu, you taste just as good as I imagined. And your moans are so much more pretty in person. I'm going to make you scream later, would you like that? In pleasure, don't worry. Amazing, overwhelming pleasure. Earth shattering. I won't hurt you, Stu. I want you."

He believed him, he did. He arched helplessly into the mouth that took him again, hand moving away from the base of his erection as the man swallowed his cock, deep into his throat, again and again. The fingers slipped between his thighs, gently stroking and massaging his sack as the man swallowed him again and again, licking, sucking, groaning around him helplessly, the vibrations of his voice only intensifying the hard thrums of sensation that shuddered up his spine. He tried to groan a warning as he felt himself pulled quickly close, though he was sure the man could feel it, feel the overwhelming pleasure pull his body tense, feel him tremble helplessly, feel the pulse of ecstasy that burst through him as he shuddered and came, spilling hot and slick in the man's mouth. The man took it all with a groan, sucking gently, coaxing him through his climax with soft, appreciative moans, then pulling back slowly, licking him clean and tucking him gently back into his shorts, wrapping the blanket back around his body.

He was still shivering, still whimpering with the aftershocks of overwhelming pleasure, and he felt the man's fingers stroke through his hair, felt his lips press to his forehead. "My sweet, obedient little Stu. You've been so good. So very good. This won't be for much longer, just another hour or so, I promise. All right?"

He managed a nod, dazed, a soft whimper of assent. What the hell had he gotten himself into? But... oh god, it had felt so good....

"Good." Another soft kiss, this time to his ear, sucking gently at the lobe. "My name is John, Stu. Part of your reward. Just like I promised." He felt his head lifted, felt a cushion slipped underneath before the man pulled away, and he heard him moving back toward the front of the van. "Relax, nap if you can. It won't be much longer."

It was more comfortable with the cushion, and once they got off the bumpy road and back onto the highway, it was easy to relax, to let the sleep of sexual satisfaction take him.

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