Entry tags:

genre: comedy, genre: romance, pairing: jon/wyatt, series: fake news

Title: The Grey Wolf Is On The Prowl
Series: TDS/TCR
Rating: PG
Disclaimer:
Please, make no mistake:
these people aren't fake,
but what's said here is no more than fiction.
It only was writ
because we like their wit
and wisecracks, and pull-squints, and diction.
We don't mean to quibble,
but this can't be libel;
it's never implied to be real.
No disrespect's meant;
if you disapprove, then,
the back button's right up there. Deal.

Summary: Another prompt from aybara_max: Jon/Wyatt after the recent segment. Jon thinks he's the Big Bad Boss seducing Wyatt, then the tables are suddenly turned on him.

Followed by Five Other Correspondents Jon (Thought He) Seduced.




The Grey Wolf Is On The Prowl

Catching his own eye in the mirror, Jon gave his outfit a final once-over. Suave, classic suit: check. Impossibly charming grin: check. Nothing between his teeth: hold on...okay, check.

Dabbing just the right amount of cologne on his wrists and neck, he strolled out into the front room.

The new correspondent was perched on the edge of Jon's couch, looking as awkward in his own suit as a teenager going on a first date, with all the freshness and innocence that went with it. Nervous but perky — just the way Jon liked them.

"Sorry to keep you," he said smoothly. "Unless," he added, with just a hint of roguishness, "you wanted to be kept?"

Wyatt jumped to his feet, hastily brushing off his jacket. "Whatever you want is fine, boss."

"That's what I like to hear." Slowly and deliberately, Jon turned on that smile. "You'll go far in this business, Wyatt. Very far, if I'm not mistaken. And I never am."

Resting his fingertips on Wyatt's still-brushing hand, he pushed it gently but firmly out of the way and ran his own palm up the younger man's lapel.

"Mr. Stewart," realized Wyatt, with wide-eyed seriousness, "you're trying to seduce me."

Jon lifted his eyebrows, the smile never leaving his face. "And if I am?"

"Oh, wow," breathed Wyatt. "You are adorable."

This was, to put it mildly, not the reaction Jon was hoping for.

"Bwuh?" he said cleverly.

Openly giggling now, Wyatt cupped Jon's head between his hands and ruffled his hair. "You are, like, the cutest old man ever!"

At last Jon found his voice. "Old?" he echoed in disbelief. "I know I'm not exactly a kid, but I'm only — what — fourteen years older than you!"

"Exactly!" laughed Wyatt. "You're almost old enough to be my dad! Seriously, though — no offense, because that can be totally hot. But you gotta get up earlier in the morning to pull one over on me, daddi-o."

Jon winced. "Okay, first of all, don't call me that, it's creepy. Second, who even says that any more?"

"Aww." Winding his arms around Jon's neck, Wyatt leaned against him. "You liked it when I called you 'boss', though, right?"

"There was a certain level of respect there that I found enjoyable, yes—"

"Awright." Wyatt grinned and began hauling the still-flustered Jon in the direction of the bedroom. "Come on, boss. Let's see how long you can keep up with me."