Entry tags:

author: vamphile, challenge #42: author's choice, epic series: hustler!j/whore in a hoody

Challenge #42: Author's Choice
Title: Hustler!Justin XV(Whore in a Hoody)
Author: Vamphile
Condom(s): 11 To Justin 5 to Brian

|Hustler!Justin | II | III | IV| V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV |

---

Hustler Justin XV
Whore In A Hoody

---

He looks almost happy. I fax the lease off and sit down on the other side of the sofa.

“When can I move in?”

I think about lying. For the cost of two new suits and a pair of shoes, I can keep him off the street and in the loft for a week, but that’s a temporary fix. “Day after tomorrow.”

He nods. “You’re staying here 'til then.”

“I am?”

I nod. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you.”

“But…you don’t want me.”

“I think I proved last night that I do.”

“But …”

“You’re taking the night off. To heal.”


~~~150~~~
I want to tell him that he doesn’t have to pay me for tonight, or tomorrow, but Isaac’s voice is reminding me that you don’t turn down a soft heart with a big wallet. I nod. “Okay, but…”

He shakes his head and pushes at my foot with his own. “No buts.” What he’s asking of me should be easier than what other clients ask. It isn’t though. With them it’s all farce and pain, so I turn myself off. I check out. He’s asking me to be present. I try to think of a way to get through this.


~~~151~~~
He’s silent and I want to know what he’s thinking. I don’t ask. I tell myself it’s because I hate when people ask me. The truth is, I’m afraid he’ll say something that seems completely innocuous to once again remind me how fucked up he is. In the end I turn on the TV and take a small comfort in the fact that he isn’t flinching away from my foot which is touching his calf and he isn’t trying to buy his place in the loft, or in my bed with his body. It’s a small victory. I’ll take it.


~~~152~~~
It’s almost four and I’m starting to get really tired again. I guess I close my eyes. When I open them he’s holding a hand out to me. “Huh?”

“Bed, c’mon.”

I assumed I’d be sleeping on the sofa… he already said he’s not going to fuck me. I think about saying something but he’ll just look at me like I’m an alien. He always does when I misunderstand him. Anything I say at this point will upset him. I take his hand. I’m not sure what he’s doing, when I was little my mom called it “tucking me in.”


~~~153~~~
I’m fucking exhausted. This is not how I planned to spend my last week of sick leave, but I guess it’s better than what I’ve been doing. I pull the sheet and duvet over us and he turns to face me. I can see him bite back a wince and I make a mental note to check those injuries again tomorrow. He’s staring at me but he doesn’t say anything, then he closes his eyes and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. His breathing is soft and even. He’s asleep. I close my eyes too.


~~~154~~~
Isaac’s back, and I am safe. He smiles like he used to, before he disappeared. He’s running his fingers through my hair, talking about cutting it to make me look younger. Tracing a couple of marks on my torso and then pulling me back to the practice room. I don’t want to go. I’m sore and it’s too hot in here. I try to tell him, but when he turns to look at me it’s not him. The fat sweaty guy pushes me into the practice room. I land on all fours. I look up and Brian’s staring at me.


~~~155~~~
His head is buried in my shoulder and I hear a strangled sound. He’s asleep. “Justin, Justin… wake up.” I shake his shoulder and he winces and opens his eyes. “Ouch. Sorry.” He moves to the other side of the bed.

“You okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m just not used to sleeping next to someone I guess”

I’m not buying it. “Who’s Isaac?”

He freezes.

“Justin.”

“He’s just an old trick”

“One who hurt you?”

“Isaac would never hurt me.”

“I thought all men wanted to hurt you.”

“Isaac didn’t. Doesn’t matter. He’s gone.” He pretends to go back to sleep.


~~~156~~~
I miss Isaac. I lie there, my eyes wide but I’m not really seeing. I wish I knew where he was and why he left. Brian’s arm reaches out, his fingers caress my forearm, one of the only spots left that isn’t sore. He’s the specific kind of guy that Isaac always warned me about. They mean well, they seem nice and in the end, they’ll annihilate you. At least the ones I deal with are up front about it. Their goal is to hurt, and when they’re done they leave. Brian's the type to leave scars that won’t heal.


~~~157~~~
He finally falls back asleep, but it takes him almost an hour. I know I’m done sleeping for the night but that’s okay, I’ve done enough sleeping in the past six months for a lifetime. And I’ve got nightmares of my own. I sit up and smoke, watching him sleep. He looks really fucking young when he’s like that. His voice telling me how far that gets him, how well he’s paid to look like this rings in my ears and I want to lock the door, keep the world out. I wonder if Lindsay would consider home schooling Gus.


~~~158~~~
By the time I wake up he’s drinking coffee and smoking while reading the paper. He motions to the row of mugs. I pour myself a cup. “So, I guess you have to go to work today.”

He shakes his head. “We both have the day off.”

“I’m not…”

“I’m giving you a day off, with pay. We’ll go see your new place, drop off the lease, get the keys.”

I smile. I can’t help it.

When I finish my coffee he hands me a bagel. It’s stale so I put it in the toaster but it’s not plugged in.


~~~159~~~
It takes me a little while to remove the bandages. We shower together and he tries to “repay my kindness.” I turn him down. He pouts in what I’m sure is a practiced maneuver. I wash his back, being careful not to hurt the healing red lines that stripe his thighs and ass as well. After I put fresh bandages on he swears he feels fine but I see him wince. I lend him a shirt. He puts on his hoody and I hand him one of my jackets. I don’t care if it’s too big. It’s fucking cold out.



~~~160~~~
He watches every move I make. He washed my sneakers. He’s almost as much of a control freak as Isaac was. I need to stop thinking about Isaac. I need to figure out why this guy won’t even let me blow him in the shower. Then I remember that after tomorrow, I don’t have to think about it again. The building is as nice as I remember. The guy at the front desk hands him the keys and we take the elevator to the ninth floor.

He hands me the keys and lets me open the door. I almost cry.


~~~161~~~
He’s happy. It’s the first time I’ve really seen that. The apartment isn’t large, but it’s got a comfortable set up, a living room and kitchen between two bedrooms each with their own full bath. He starts talking about the light and how he’s going to set up the room with the southern exposure to be his haven. He’s essentially renting a room in his own place. His excitement dims as we cross the living area and he pushes open the door to the second bedroom. He’s all business as he talks about sturdy bed-frames and an armoire for toys.


~~~162~~~
I turn to get Brian’s thoughts on where I can find the stuff I need but he’s not here. I find him in the living room watching the painters tape off a window. “We can go. I’ve got the measurements.”

He nods silently. He doesn’t say anything in the elevator or the lobby. When we’re in the jeep he turns to me. “Can’t you do something else?”

“Why?”

“Because maybe then you’ll live past nineteen.”

“Brian, give me one financial option at 17 with no high school diploma that’ll pay that rent, or any rent.”

He grinds his teeth loudly.


~~~163~~~
He’s got a point, but that’s not the point… I want to shake him but that’s not even a new feeling.

“Couldn’t you just take safe clients? Ones who won’t hurt you?”

“They all hurt you. Mine just admit it.”

“That’s not true.”

“And you know this how?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He’s silent but I have a feeling that he’s holding back, not out of responses. “So tell me about Isaac. He’s the one who trained you?”

“Yeah.”

“The one who’d find clients who wanted you pre-beaten.”

He tries to open the door. I’m going forty-five. WTF?


~~~164~~~
He stops the car. I try to jump out but he’s leaning over me and holding the door shut.

“Brian…”

“You’re insane.”

“It got you to stop the car, didn’t it?”

He stares at me. “Why does talking about him make you want to run?”

“Because it’s none of your business.”

He leans back and waits. I don’t open the door.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s none of my business.”

“Thank you. None of this is really any of your concern.”

“No, it probably shouldn’t be.”

“But it is.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He shrugs and I believe he really doesn’t know.

Cont...