Perfect Part 2
"So, whattaya think of the new guy?" asked the blond kid in the torn jeans and cropped tee shirt.
The older, tougher-looking dark-haired kid made a show of considering the question. "Not bad, I guess. At least he's not lookin' down his nose at us."
"He sure is pretty," said the first boy with a sigh. "Ya think he'll get all the tricks?"
"He's fuckin' gorgeous!" snorted his friend. "Not everyone likes gorgeous. It's kinda..." He searched for a word. "Kinda intimidatin'. Don't worry, Snow, I won't let ya starve." He chucked the boy under the chin with a grin. "Some people think cute is just about perfect."
The boy grinned back and leaned into his friend, still thinking about the longhaired newcomer. "Didja tell 'im 'bout Tomas?"
"Nah."
"Why not?"
"Why didn' you tell 'im?"
"Um..."
"Yeah. He's okay, so far. That don't mean we let 'im in on all our secrets."
~*~
Duo lounged against the building wall with several of the other "working boys". Business wasn't brisk in the early evening, but it was steady. He'd already turned two blowjobs and a quick fuck in the back of a van.
Rumor was that their quarry liked things a little more flavorful, but Duo couldn't turn down the easy stuff, or the other whores would get suspicious.
A car slid to the curb and they all came alert.
The tinted window eased down an inch and a rough voice demanded, "You. Longhair."
"Hey, honey," purred Duo, bending to address the window.
"What do I get for a hundred?"
"What do you want?" he countered.
"Everything."
"Everything is two hundred. That doesn't include the hair."
"How much extra for the hair?"
Duo shook his head, smiling. "Not on the first date."
"An extra hundred."
"Sorry. Two hundred for everything but the hair. No exceptions."
"Get in."
"You bet!" He slid across the hood of the car and waved to the other whores as he opened the door.
Inside, as he fastened his seatbelt, his customer growled, "Not on the first date?! What the hell is that?"
"Incentive!" Duo laughed. "To make you want to come back."
"Right. I've got a room."
"Where's my money?"
"Oh, please!"
"Hey, I'm serious, Heero. I'm supposed to come back with two hundred. The guys'll wonder if I don't."
Heero glared at him, but reached into his shirt pocket and handed Duo a roll of bills. He peeled off ten and tucked the rest back into Heero's shirt.
"So, what would you like for your two hundred?" he purred, running his hand up Heero's leg, teasing.
Heero flicked a glance his way. "It's just an assignment, Duo. You're not going to do anything."
"If I want them to believe and trust me I damn well better come back looking like I've been rode hard and put away wet!" he snapped.
Heero looked over, startled by his vehemence.
"Look, Heero, I may be playing a part here, but they have to believe I'm a hardworking whore if I wanna get in on the gossip and secrets." He gazed out the window, wishing he didn't feel so vulnerable right now. Damn it, this would be a lot easier if he wasn't getting these weird signals from Heero. One minute he was giving Duo orders on how to act on the street (yeah, like Mr. Perfect Soldier had any idea!), and the next he was just growling and slamming things. In between, he just glared. "Now, if you don't wanna do it, that's fine; I understand if it's not your thing. Just drop me outside a bar and I'll find someone to turn me out."
"You will not!" Heero snarled. "How are they going to know what you did unless you tell them? Just make something up!" Damn it! Duo was behaving as if he liked doing this.
Duo turned in his seat and waggled his hands at Heero. "Hello! 'Everything' includes creative abuse. You know; S&M, B&D. It leaves marks, Heero, especially if the buyer is shelling out two hundred to a whore! These guys don't want their friends and lovers knowing how sleazy they are, but they damn well want their money's worth from a whore!" He folded his arms over his chest. "Don't try to teach me my business," he muttered.
Heero's head snapped around, his eyes cold, hard and more than a little scary. The tic in his cheek was back.
Duo shrank from that look.
"You are not going to let a stranger hurt you!" he snarled. Goddammit! What kinds of shit do those creeps do to him? Did he have to do stuff like this the other times? Fuck! He tried to swallow his anger, returning his attention to the road. "If anyone deserves a chance to whip the shit out of you, it's me," he muttered to himself.
Duo blinked, but wisely kept his mouth shut.
~*~
Duo gripped the edge of the basin and bit his lip as Snow dabbed alcohol on the welts on his back.
"It ain't too bad," said the blond whore. "The skin's only broken in a couple of places."
"Good," said Duo tightly. Geez, Heero! "I told him blood was extra. I thought he was gonna go for it for a minute, but he backed off. Is there any on my shirt?"
Snow examined the back of his purple shirt. "I don't see any. Or else it don't show." He held the shirt for Duo to ease back into. "Ya ever have anyone force ya after ya say 'no'?"
Duo shrugged and turned to smile brightly. "Hell, yeah! Who hasn't?"
"How do ya handle it? I get scared."
"So do I," said Duo softly as his smile vanished. "Sometimes I can talk my way out of it, but other times... Sometimes, I just hope they're satisfied with what they get and that they don't feel like killing me."
The blond boy nodded slightly, frowning. "I think one of them's gonna kill me someday. I just hope I'm unconscious when they do."
Duo blinked and looked away. "Yeah... Me too."
~*~
Man, for someone who didn't want him to do this in the first place, Heero sure was enthusiastic about making it believable. He examined his bare back and butt in the mirror. Getting back at me for all the teasing. The other guys would love to see this! Geez, it's a good thing Wu-man wasn't there to help!
He shut off the light and crawled into bed. So far, this stakeout was bor-ing. The tricks were singularly uninteresting and the other boys heartbreakingly pathetic. Heero was right when he said that Duo was useless for days after completing an assignment on the street. The whole milieu just seemed to hang on. He hated making friends with whores and then leaving, knowing they were likely to die within the year. He would have been one of those sad, eager creatures if it hadn't been for Sister Helen and Father Maxwell.
Sure, he turned tricks to stay alive after the massacre, but at least he knew a better life was possible. He had a dream to get back to. And he had found his dream again. He had friends, a family of sorts; four terrific guys he would be proud to claim as his brothers, as well as Sally Po and Howard who offered a more mature view of life and served (for him, at least) as vaguely parental entities.
And he had the fantasy to end all fantasies. He had Heero Yuy to dream about. Intellectually, he figured that Heero would probably never look twice at him in a romantic way (he wasn't even sure Heero was capable of romantic or sexual thoughts), but emotionally, well, the sky was the limit, and heaven was in Heero's eyes. Cold, brittle, fanatical cobalt blue eyes...
He fell asleep seeing those eyes.
TBC...
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