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,@ 2007-12-22 00:15:00 |
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| Entry tags: | author: vamphile, challenge #44: crack fic, epic series: hustler!j/whore in a hoody |
Whore In A Hoody
Title: Hustler!Justin XXIX (Whore in a Hoody)
Author: Vamphile
Condom(s): 7 to Justin 4 to Brian
|Hustler!Justin | II | III | IV| V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI | XVII | XVIII | XIX | XX | XXI | XXII | XXIII | XXIV | XXV | XXVI | XXVII | XXVIII | XXIX | XXX |
Hustler Justin XXXI
Whore In A Hoody
~~~332~~~ Still Justin’s POV
He moves off of me, his head falling on the pillow. I instinctively move closer to him. He smiles and kisses the side of my mouth, running his hand over my face. “You’re beautiful.”
I turn away from him.
“Hey.” His hand is on my shoulder. I shrug it off. “Hey.” This time his hand and his voice are more insistent. “Justin. Look at me.”
I turn before I know I’m doing it. He swipes a thumb under my eye. I’m so stupid.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. He doesn’t need to know how stupid I am. “I’m fine.”
~~~333~~~Brian’s POV
I shake my head and wait. Sometimes that works. He closes his eyes and another tear falls. I kiss that one and more follow. “Hey, Justin. Talk to me.”
I’m holding him against my chest but he pulls away. “I don’t need you to lie to me. I can accept what we have without all the pretty words.”
Huh? “Huh?”
He’s sitting up now. Anger overcoming sadness. “I know I’m not beautiful, okay? I don’t need you to say I am. I’d actually prefer that you didn’t lie.”
“Justin. I don’t lie. Ever.”
“Bullshit.”
I shake my head for emphasis.
~~~334~~~
He can be so frustrating sometimes. Just because he thinks I’m nothing but a dumb kid doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious to reality. “Brian, I’m blond, and young. I know that, hell I get paid good money for that.” He cringes and I feel a little satisfied at the moment. “Don’t start feeding me pretty words. I don’t need them, I don’t even want them.”
He just stares at me. “Why would I lie about something like that?”
“Because you’re one of those ‘nice guys’. The kind who tell you what you want to hear.”
He starts laughing really hard.
~~~335~~~
I’m not laughing at him, but… I pull myself together. “Justin.” I take his head in my hands and kiss his forehead. “You’re fucking adorable.”
“Fuck you.”
“I have never said anything nice to anyone just because they wanted to hear it, and you are beautiful.”
He’s shaking his head adamantly. “I’m not, Brian, I know I’m not.”
“Because Isaac said that you weren’t?”
He shrugs and I know I’m right. I light us each a cigarette.
“We shouldn’t smoke in here.”
“Would your clients disapprove?”
He looks down, twisting his fingers.
“Or would Isaac?”
His expression says it all.
~~~336~~~
He’s so sure it’s all Isaac’s fault. And the way he says his name, it’s like a curse. “I wish you wouldn’t hate him”
He shrugs and exhales a long stream of smoke. “I can’t help it. I hate him.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know enough. What he did was sick, and twisted. Justin, he hurt you in every way possible.”
“He saved me. Why can’t you understand that? He saved my life.”
“He stole your childhood. He stole your money. He stole…”
He’s out of words. I shake my head. “You don’t know him. You don’t know anything!”
~~~337~~~
“So tell me.”
He sighs and throws both our cigarettes out the window.
“You should get an ashtray in here.”
He shudders and shakes his head. “No cigarettes, that’s my rule.”
When what’s he’s telling me registers I pull him close. He’s crying again. “I tried to stay still.”
“I know.” I whisper it across his ear, my arms tight around his waist. “No more cigarettes. I promise.”
He shakes his head. “You can’t promise that.”
I push him away so he can see my eyes. “I promise.”
He rests his head on my chest. My hatred of Isaac burns.
~~~338~~~
I just rest, but he won’t let the subject go as easily. “Why do you think Isaac saved your life?”
“I don’t think, I know. I was thirteen, my father hated me, my sister was three and he barely had time for her. I knew I was gay, and so did some of the kids at school. Add that to short, and bad at sports and life was a living hell.”
I know he’s listening. His arm tightens around me.
“So I decided to get out of it.”
“Out of what?”
“Life.”
“You mean?”
I nod. He’s shaking. He understands.
~~~339~~~
I stay silent, willing the rage in my body not to overwhelm me. If I let it out now, I’ll scare him.
“How did you meet Isaac?”
“He found me. I was stupid and I didn’t know what I was doing and he found me sitting on the playground trying to slit my wrists.”
“And then he just took you to his place.”
“No. Yes… kind of… we went back to his place but only so he could help me clean up, so my father wouldn’t find out.”
I think about asking what Isaac was doing on a middle-school playground
~~~340~~~
His body is completely still now, and I can’t look at him. “I didn’t have any friends. He was my friend. I hung out there after school. He fed me, and we laughed and played games and he convinced me that maybe checking out wasn’t the best idea. He gave me a reason to live. I lived for him."
“What would have happened if your father had found out?”
“He would have made me see a shrink.” He makes a sound and I can tell he thinks that would have been preferable.
“So how’d you end up living with him?”
~~~341~~~
He hesitates before answering.
“Soon we were together all the time. My dad was mad because my grades dropped. I was never home to watch Molly. He grounded me.”
“So you ran away.”
“Yeah, but I thought he’d come looking for me.”
I turn my head to look at him. “He didn’t?”
He’s crying. I feel the tears fall onto my chest. I just keep running my fingers through his hair.
“I guess he was glad I was gone.”
“Did he know where Isaac lived?”
“I was always there.”
“He dropped you off, picked you up?”
“No Isaac drove me.”
~~~342~~~
He waits for a couple of minutes before he says anything. “You never went back to school did you?”
“I hated it there.”
“How long 'til you and Isaac moved?”
“A long time, like two months.”
“Justin…”
“It’s okay Brian. My dad didn’t love me. I got over that.”
“How old was he?”
“My dad?”
“Isaac.”
He’s angry again. He’s always angry when I talk about him. “Twenty six I think.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I know, but he…”
“Loved you… yeah. There are laws against 26-year-olds loving 13-year-old boys.”
“Why?”
He’s upset I asked. I think I’m just supposed to know.
Cont...