vamphile (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} vamphile) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} qaf_drabbles,@ 2007-12-15 17:28:00 |
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| Entry tags: | author: vamphile, challenge #42: author's choice, epic series: hustler!j/whore in a hoody |
Whore In A Hoody
Title: Hustler!Justin XVIII (Whore in a Hoody)
Author: Vamphile
Condom(s): None
|Hustler!Justin | II | III | IV| V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI | XVII | XVIII |
Hustler Justin XIX
Whore In A Hoody
He turns away from me and I let him. What’s left to say? He’s alone. I want to tell him he has me, but he doesn’t, not really. I’m back at Ryder on Monday, and somewhere in between catching up on my work and dazzling new clients, I need to write a book. I glance over at him, curled up and shaking. I cover him with the duvet.
“We can still fuck.”
I don’t know what to say to that so run my fingers through his hair and go back to the sofa with scotch and a pack of cigarettes.
~~~210~~~
I pull myself together. He doesn’t need this shit. I don’t have time for this shit. I join him on the sofa and take a cigarette out of the pack. He hands me a glass of scotch and I have to admit that sometimes, it’s nice to be treated like an adult instead of a child, or a pet. “I’ll be okay.”
He nods. I don’t think he believes me.
“I’ve managed so far.”
He doesn’t nod at that. I don’t think he agrees. I lean my head on his shoulder. “You can come visit me.”
His body gets tense.
~~~211~~~
Visit him? Make an appointment? Pay him? I don’t know how to respond so I don’t.
“You helped me out, and you don’t want anything difficult. I’d give you a discount.”
I’m going to strangle the twat in about twenty seconds but I find myself nodding. Tossing him a couple hundred dollars and making sue he’s safe both seem like good ideas.
“Just call first, okay? I’ll make sure you have the number.”
I picture walking into a scene like the one that left him marked and flinch. He feels it.
“I just mean that… clients hate to be interrupted.”
~~~212~~~
“Justin…”
I know what he’s about to say. “Don’t, Brian. We keep going in circles.”
He nods and we spend the rest of the night staring at the television, or watching the smoke swirl from a cigarette. When I can’t keep my eyes open anymore he helps me to bed and sometime in the middle of the night he curls up behind me and fucks me gently. Kissing my ear. Whispering things I think he’s hoping I won’t remember. I come before he does but only by moments. When we fully wake up, hours later, he’s grumpy and I’m excited.
~~~213~~~
The furniture is being delivered between noon and four. We start with the grocery store. It’s ten thousand tiny decisions. I wonder if he even knows what he likes to eat, or how to cook.
We finally make it out of the store with the essentials. Peanut butter, bread, milk and a couple of other things I insisted on. He’s putting it all away and waiting for the delivery guy when I realize he doesn’t have dishes, or… anything. He says he doesn’t care. “Justin, I’ll be back.” He nods seriously. I wonder if he believes me. Why would he?
~~~214~~~
He’s not coming back. That’s okay. I didn’t expect him to. It’s almost five when the furniture guys arrive. They assemble everything and it’s starting to look like someplace that’s worth the money. The reception area is formal but it’s supposed to be. I’m startled when Brian walks in.
“The door’s not locked.”
I shrug.
The doorman is behind him with a big cart full of stuff.
“For me?”
He nods, and starts opening boxes.
“You know, I can’t really cook here. The place can’t smell like…”
“Plates, microwave, coffee pot. I’m not anticipating you becoming he next Martha Stewart.”
~~~215~~~
I’m ready to go home but the thought of leaving makes my stomach churn. “You have an appointment book yet?”
He nods.
What’s Tuesday look like?
He rolls his eyes. “It’s wide open.”
“I’d like to see you.”
“Morning or evening?”
“After work, say eight?”
“You work late.”
“I have a lot of catching up to do.”
He nods and I can tell he’s really looking forward to some time alone. Surprisingly, I’m not. He settles into his room, and I hear him lock the door as I pull his door shut. Making sure it’s locked before I walk away.
~~~216~~~
this is what I dreamed about all those months on the streets, I reach for the sketchbook he insisted on buying, and a set of charcoals. I pull my knees up in the ridiculously large chair and just draw. Isaac always said it was a waste of time, we could be practicing, or networking but sometimes I just ignored him. Practice was always longer and harder later, but it was worth it. I wish he hadn’t taken my sketchbooks with him. When I can’t keep my eyes open I crawl into bed pulling the thick duvet up to my chin.
Cont...