Entry tags:

author: vamphile, challenge #44: crack fic, epic series: hustler!j/whore in a hoody

Whore In A Hoody
Title: Hustler!Justin XXXVII (Whore in a Hoody)
Author: Vamphile
Condom(s): 12 to Justin 3 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 | XXXI | XXXII | XXXIII | XXXIV | XXXV | XXXVI |

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Hustler Justin XXXVII
Whore In A Hoody

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He leaves me with Gus while he warms up a bottle. There’s no denying he’s Brian’s son. I move him in my arms 'til he’s more comfortable and then sit back, watching Brian and trying not to think too much about Molly. It’s not that I miss her, she was four when I left, just a baby still, but I do wonder about her. Brian comes back with the bottle and hands it to me. Gus takes it contentedly.

“I did this a lot for my sister. When my mom was sick and my dad was with her.”

“I figured”

~~~387~~~
He’s good with him. We sit in silence and I can tell he’s fighting back tears. “You grew up fast.”

He shrugs. “Someone had to watch Molly.”

“There wasn’t a babysitter? You were seven.”

“I think there was. I just ignored her though. I knew what Molly needed.”

I shake my head, “always taking care of others.”

“Someone has to.”

“Who takes care of you?”

His blue eyes seem to burn into me. “You do.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I want him to take care of himself but if he won’t, someone has to. I nod.


~~~388~~~
Brian leaves at around four and I go back to writing. I keep rushing forward and then realize that I don’t have to write in order. I tell the story of the first time I was with a client. I hardly remember what the client did. Isaac was there for a little while, telling me what to do. I was proud of myself. Then Isaac left and I was alone with a man older than my father. He put me through my paces. I did everything he asked. I hesitated once and was punished. I didn’t hesitate again. Not ever.


~~~389~~~
I order dinner at eight and pull a file I’m supposed to be studying for a client meeting on Tuesday. Lindsay calls, again. I assure her Gus is fine, again. When she comes to pick him up her eyes shine. Christ she loves him. I knew she would. I want to warn her about men like Isaac, and lost thirteen-year-old boys, but we both know. Once the loft door closes I call Justin. “Brian, you don’t have to call me every fifteen minutes.”

“It’s been eight hours.”

“Oh. Time flies.”

“Writing?”

“Yeah. I’ll let you read it tomorrow.”


~~~390~~~
I’m writing about our practice sessions. I hated them at first. I cried through them and Isaac kept whipping me, telling me that crying would make it worse. He was right. Then I learned to shut it out. To follow directions and block out everything that wasn’t his voice, I stopped crying. Hours later I’d be sore and he’d show me a tape, doing things I didn’t even remember. I’d curl up against him and he’d tell me how proud he was. I ache. I miss him so much. I wonder if he’d be proud of me now. Probably not.


~~~391~~~
I can’t sleep. I close my eyes and the images of Justin at fourteen, wide eyed and believing in Isaac’s love haunt me. I light a cigarette and try to think of something else but them I’m back to the gory images of my own surgery, the memory of vomiting 'til my body ached and I couldn’t breathe without pain. I stand up and pace the loft just to prove to myself that I have the energy to do it. I light another cigarette and sigh. Sleepless nights aren’t listed as a side effect of cancer, but they should be.


~~~392~~~
I write most of the morning on Monday and jot down some notes to remind myself of things I want to mention later. By two in the afternoon I start to get ready for my client. It takes longer than it used to. Besides spending more time making sure I look young, there’s the part that Isaac didn’t teach me. Meditation, focusing on something else. It’s easier to do it before we start. It used to be easy. Today I can’t seem to get there. Brian’s voice is echoing in my head where there should be a distant white noise.


~~~393~~~
I schmooze the client. I have lunch with a potential client and probably drink a little too much. I watch the clock and grit my teeth. At three I call Justin.

“Yes?” He sounds aggravated.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just have a client coming in a couple of hours and I’m trying to get ready.”

“I’ll see you at eleven?”

“Yeah.”

The phone goes dead with a loud click. Something’s wrong, but it’s not necessarily something new. Something’s been wrong with the kid since I met him. I try to work but Justin’s voice is echoing. “Isaac loved me.”


~~~394~~~
I greet him at the door. He’s younger than I expected. I smile and pour him a drink, sitting by his feet. The door stays open so Charlie can follow once we’re in “the office”. He pets me and whispers sweet words. I lean my head against his knee. He follows me to the bedroom. My mind is pure white noise but his voice is low, soothing and familiar. He tells me how beautiful I am. I turn my head. He whispers how he’s going to train me to be just what he wants. Now I’m crying, pushing him away.


~~~395~~~
The phone rings a little after eight. “What happened?”

I can hear a high-pitched sound. Charlie’s telling me he doesn’t know, he just heard him screaming and chased the guy out. I’m already on the elevator. Stopped at a light, I can still hear Justin… “Put him on.” There’s a thunk. “He won’t take the phone.”

I don’t stop at another light and when I find them Justin’s pressed into the corner of the room begging Charlie to stop. “What did you do to him?”

He waves a hand in front of Justin’s unseeing eyes. “He’s not talking to me.”


~~~396~~~
He touches me and I flinch away. “Isaac!” He shakes me. I open my eyes. Not Isaac. “Brian?”

“Yeah. He’s kneeling on the floor, in front of me. “What happened?”

I run a hand through my hair and try to stand up. “Shit, where’s my client.”

“Charlie got rid of him. What happened?”

I’m angry. “You! You happened! I was doing okay and now I can’t even remember the good things without freaking out. Thanks a fucking lot!” I push at his chest. He falls backwards.

I stand up and point. “Get out, of this room, of my life! Go!”


~~~397~~~
I don’t move. I nod to Charlie who motions to let me know he’ll be just outside the front door. Justin stamps his foot. “Get out.” But he’s not yelling. He sounds tired.

“Tell me what happened.”

He sits down on the edge of the bed. His body is shaking.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. He just wanted to…”

He’s biting back the urge to vomit. He loses and runs to he bathroom. Twenty minutes later he’s leaning his head against the tile wall, and rocking. “Oh god, oh god.”

“Justin…”

He rocks, banging his head against the wall, hard.


~~~398~~~
I can feel the words building; the thoughts swirling and I keep hitting my head, hoping it’ll crack open. If it does the thoughts will leave. I want them gone. I lean forward thrashing my head back but it doesn’t hit the tile. Brian’s hands are there, stopping me. I try to squirm out of his grip but he won’t let me. “Brian, please.”

He just shakes his head and pulls me forward. He holds me and I try to bite him. I don’t want his fucking comfort. This is all his fault. “Get away from me.” I head out.


~~~399~~~
He lunges for the door. I’m right behind him. Charlie’s there, blocking his exit.

He slumps. I catch him just before he hits the ground.

“Justin!”

He opens his eyes and struggles but I won’t let him go. He tries to bite me again and I move my hands 'til he can’t. I’m against the breakfast bar and he’s between my thighs. His back and head against my chest. His arms crossed in front of him and mine wrapped around his wrists. He tries to slam his head into my chest but I hold him tighter. “Shhhh”

“Charlie, call Peter!”


~~~400~~~
I try to get out of his grip but he won’t let me. “Brian, please.”

He whispers in my ear again. “No, you’re trying to hurt yourself.”

“I just want it to stop. Get it out of my head.”

He wraps his legs around me. “I wish I could.”

“I think… I…” I stop because I can’t say it out loud.

“What? Justin, you can tell me.”

“I think maybe Isaac didn’t love me.”

He kisses the back of my head. “I know.”

“Brian, no one has ever loved me.”

He rocks us from side to side. “That’s not true.”

Cont...