fluctuationfeels: (Default)
[personal profile] fluctuationfeels
They had their own spot. It changed up every so often, depending on how many cops were around or how many street walkers there were on any given night.

Leo and Aydin were there most every night. They had to be there. If they weren't they might miss out on the one in ten men who actually threw down some cash for their time.

Leo leaned against a wall that he favoured every Friday night. There were a couple of other white twinks there too, sticking their asses out and puckering their lips trying to score attention. What drew people to Leo was usually the fact that he didn’t want that attention half as much as the others. He needed it, because he needed the money to pay his rent, bills and feed his smoking habit. But want it? No. He would never want it, despite what he told his customers.

He light up another cigarette and sighed out a slow stream of smoke into the night air. At least it was a warm one. He wasn’t out on his ass in the cold like some down and out loser. Not yet anyway.

“S’real slow tonight.” He commented, offering Aydin a cigarette.

Date: 2017-05-17 08:43 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
Yes. [He was shocked at himself. He had only been talking to the boy because - well, why? Because he looked like his memory, he had needed to refresh the memory. Brent hadn't been wanting to buy sex.

[Now he had agreed. And they were walking down the streets to the motel, not talking anymore. Brent used his credit card to pay for the room. He had a few notes in his wallet already for the boy. They were given a key and the room was... cheap.

[Brent wasn't sure how he'd gotten here, but now he slowly peeled off his coat and hung it on the back of the door.]

Date: 2017-05-17 08:54 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
[For a moment he was silenced, his eyes darting over that so familiar face.] ... Right, yes. Right.

[He found his wallet again, stepping away from the boy as he opened it, removing two fresh twenty dollar bills. Did you tip in these circumstances? He didn't know. He added a ten to the pile too.] Right, here.

Date: 2017-05-17 09:12 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
[It was hard to hold his own reaction back, his arms loosely wrapping around the boy's body and then tighter. A little thin, but the same height. It was like he was holding him again. Again it almost took the wind out of him, which made it easy to accept the kiss.

[In nostalgia, the breath against his neck reminded him of the first time he had held him, felt his first breaths of human life. Felt it there that last time Brent had gone off to base and hugged him goodbye.

[He had to get out of the memories and out of the past, so he pressed closed lip kisses against the boy's neck. He had gotten into this position. He had to perform.]

Date: 2017-05-17 09:38 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
[The moan disturbed him, but he knew that as all this was going to be. This was what prostitution was. Sex. Not memories.]

Brent, it's Brent. [The answer was automatic, but he didn't want him to call him that.] You don't have to call me anything though. It's fine.

[He needed space, and abruptly moved away, over to the window to open it. It was sticky and hard to move, but he got it open a crack although the air did very little for him.

[He was here now. He needed to do this. He peeled off his shirt and turned around.] Do uh... Do you like sports?

Date: 2017-05-17 09:47 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
[There were cigarette burns on the boy's body, and for a moment he wanted to demand to know where they came from. He bit the words back on his tongue. That wasn't his business, this wasn't his past.

[He still couldn't stop touching them slightly, gently, although his voice was distant from affection. Quite locked off.]


Yeah. Yeah. A soccer man. You like soccer?

Date: 2017-05-17 10:00 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
Oh yeah? Better than most american boys.

[Brent wasn't hard. Couldn't GET hard. All he could do was keep talking and god this was the worst situation he had gotten himself into.]

The... The season is going well this year. The Premier League looks like it'll be a good set of games. Really good games.

Date: 2017-05-17 10:11 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
I uh...

[He looked down at the boy's face and it hurt him. Hurt him so much he couldn't hold back that pain anymore. The memories hurt so much they melted his eyes entirely, water pouring suddenly down his cheeks.]

No. No. I'm sorry. [Brent pulled himself away, moving to the cheap bed and sitting down on it suddenly, heavily. He pushed his hands against his face, biting down on his palms to try and contain himself.

[It was like his little boy had looked back up at him. Had lived again. He knew he didn't though. He was fifteen miles away and six foot down. Brent almost couldn't breathe again.]

Date: 2017-05-17 10:24 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
[Brent didn't take a tissue, but he did after a moment remove his face from his hands. He took a slow breath, but there wasn't any air in the room cool enough for him.]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I saw you and. God. God you look just like my little boy looked. He was just like you. Just about your age...

[His voice choked on every other word and Brent shook his head. Upset that this much emotion was still there, after all these years.] God... Its like he's back from the grave and I just. I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm sorry.

You can keep the money. I'm sorry.

Date: 2017-05-17 10:40 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
Thanks. [Brent's voice was as weak as he felt. Weak as it was, words kept coming. He couldn't stop them.]

He was shot. Drive by. He had a lot of black friends, but they were good kids, you know? I didn't think they were in those kinds of gangs. [Brent shook his head.] Two bullets in the head... It wasn't an open casket.

Date: 2017-05-18 06:34 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
I was on base with the army at the time, I didn't get back until it was practically over. [Brent pushed his hands against his face again, rubbing tiredly and pushing out the world's more weary sigh. So heavy it seemed like without it in him, he would entirely fall apart.]

And I just wanted to see him one last time, and then there you were and you were just like him and... I don't know. I don't know what happened. I just needed to see him one more time. A little longer.

[Brent straightened up.] I took your time kid, so... I'm sorry. You need that fifty more than me so just keep it. Please.

Date: 2017-05-18 08:27 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
[He almost wanted to cry again, almost couldn't hold his spine up and collapsed into himself. It had been so long since he'd been called a dad. Been so long since this boy - the boy who looked like this boy - had said that to him. Years. Painful years that were still raw.

[With a stiff lower lip, he nodded to show he had heard, but couldn't quite respond in that moment.]


Date: 2017-05-21 06:59 pm (UTC)
professional_johns: ([John] Brent)
From: [personal profile] professional_johns
[He'd been told that time and time again, by therapists, his ex wife, himself. He had known that.

[But now it was like his baby boy was saying it to him and that was definitely a breaker for him.

[He wrapped his arms around the boy and held him tight. It wasn't easy for him to cry, even with all his pain, but water trailed down his cheeks and into the boy's hair as he held him tight.]


Yeah... Yeah I know that. Shouldn't have to bury your child though.

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