Oh, hey, I finally finished the second part. *waves small flag of victory* Anyway, have some more drug addict/escort AU! and yeah ...
Disclaimer: None of this is true. Any resemblance to existing places, and or names is entirely coincidental. No harm or offense intended.
Warnings: for this part: descriptive drug use, mild OOC-ness, and heaps of UST.
Only the Young
Kevin Bieksa/Ryan Kesler; mention of some of the Canucks roster; Vancouver Canucks; R
Kevin's a high-profile businessman, who by accident, has a run-in with a drug addicted escort (Ryan).
Part one is:
here Only the Young
Chapter Two
The rain hitting the limo was loud. The sound echoed in Ryan's chest as he fidgeted with a loose thread on his jacket. He desperately needed a new one, but was broke as fuck.
Ryan knew it was his fault. That's what happens when you're not steadily employed. Getting by on an odd escort job here and there. One or two 'good' jobs were enough cash flow for him to get by for two weeks or so. It was a good thing he was a bit more frugal, and money savvy than most. It helped him from getting burnt out, and made sure he did not have to take as many jobs as some of the other escorts he'd met.
"You from out of town?" Kevin asked. He was seated across from him in the limo.
Ryan listened as his Blackberry beeped, and Kevin pulled it out from his pocket, muttered an apology to Ryan, before he answered the call.
"Dan, my man … how's it going?"
Ryan watched as a smile curled Kevin's lips, his eyes bright, as he gave a throaty and rich laugh at something this person Dan had said.
"Seriously? How long?" Kevin nodded, before he glanced to Ryan. "Awesome. Anyway, I'll have my driver pick you up then, and let's do lunch! You can fill me in on everything!"
Kevin clicked his phone off, and tucked it away before he smiled at Ryan sheepishly. "Sorry 'bout that."
Ryan shook his head. "S'okay." He looked out the tinted windows, listened to the sound of the rain as it fell, and watched as the droplets streaked down the glass. "What makes you think I'm from out of town?"
Kevin shrugged, and gestured to the bag Ryan had placed on the floor of the limo. "Your bag, and the fact that you were standing outside of the Hyatt."
Ryan felt his cheeks flame. "I'm kind of … well, y'see, I'm kind of …"
"You get evicted, or something?"
"You could say that," Ryan mumbled.
Kevin's stare was intense; so intense, it was enough to cause Ryan to start fidgeting under its intensity. "Is that all you have with you?"
Ryan did not get a chance to respond, as he felt the limo coming to a stop. "We're here already?"
Kevin glanced up as the door was opened. "Guess so."
Ryan climbed out of the limo's cabin, and glanced down at his watch. "You only live like five minutes away from the Hyatt? Why'd you take a limo?"
Kevin straightened his suit jacket, thanked his driver and made his way towards the door.
"Not my choice, by any means," he said, holding the door open for Ryan.
Ryan hurried after Kevin, catching up to him as Kevin swiped a key card over the elevator's panel. Almost immediately the doors opened, and a chime beeped.
"You always take the underground entrance into your place?" Ryan asked, trying to keep his tone light. Part of him hoping it would draw attention away from how self-conscious he felt even being inside Kevin's apartment complex.
God, the air even smelled like money.
Lots of it.
He and Kevin were world's apart. The thought made his heart want to sink to the floor.
Kevin's lips twitched slightly at Ryan's question. "Less attention this way. Besides, it's late, and I thought you might want to take the faster route."
He leaned back against the elevator's interior rail, and folded his arms across his chest. Ryan flicked his eyes away, to avoid having to see the way Kevin's biceps became more defined with the motion. Ryan felt his throat go dry, and his palms become clammy.
"The main entrance requires walking through the concierge, signing in, all that nice stuff the property managers say are for its residents protection." Kevin raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes watching Ryan intently. "It's a lot of unnecessary and extraneous bullshit I don't want to deal with. I deal with enough extraneous bullshit and red tape during my work hours. I don't need it on my days off."
Ryan stifled a laugh at Kevin's comments, but it didn't escape Kevin's notice. "It's refreshing to see someone speak so candidly about their job," Ryan noted.
Kevin laughed, and Ryan felt his throat close up. It was a rich, throaty laugh. Ryan thinks if he could place a colour to a person's laugh, Kevin's would be gold. It's texture like silk. The sound infiltrating his every pore, like buttermilk and cream. Ryan's grip on the rail tightens, his knuckles white with exertion. He felt dizzy, and he knew it had nothing to do with coming down from his high, or from nicotine withdrawal.
He heard the elevator come to a fluid stop on Kevin's floor, and the doors open, the slight breeze tickling his cheek and hair. Ryan was grateful the elevator stopped when it did, and he followed after Kevin like a dutiful puppy.
"Stick around long enough and it'll become like second nature to hear it."
Kevin unlocked his door then, and opened his door with a quick twist of his wrist. "Home, sweet home."
Ryan stepped across the threshold, and vaguely registered a shrill buzzing sound. He turned and saw Kevin as he punched in a combination of numbers on a control panel by the door.
After the door was locked, and the alarm reset, Kevin sighed, and stretched languidly as he made his way towards the living room. Ryan watched as Kevin removed his suit jacket, noted the slope of his shoulders, and the way his arms rippled slightly in the long-sleeved dress shirt and waistcoat he was wearing.
"Make yourself at home," Kevin said, laying his suit jacket over an elegant, but modern looking chair at the island in his kitchen.
"Um, thanks," Ryan muttered, re-adjusting his bag on his shoulder and sauntered further into Kevin's place. His eyes caught on a nearby table where Kevin had placed a slew of framed photos. Ryan stared at one picture. It was of Kevin standing next to another man, with curly brown hair. They were dressed casually, in shorts, and short-sleeved polo shirts, standing in front of what looked like a building in ruins. Ryan half-wondered about Kevin's history with the man in the photograph. Maybe he and Kevin had been together at some point. Ryan knew it was stupid to feel jealous about someone he had never met before, and someone he had known for maybe an hour at best.
"That's Dan Hamhuis. A buddy of mine from university," Kevin said.
Ryan jumped slightly, seeing as how he was not expecting Kevin to be there. His approach was so silent. Ryan waited a few seconds until his heartbeat slowed. "Where was this taken?"
"Haiti. We went after the earthquake." Kevin picked up the photo, gazing at it fondly, his expression nostalgic. "We were helping rebuild the schools, and city infrastructure."
"Was he the one you were talking to in the limo?"
Kevin nodded, and placed the picture back. "He's going to be coming in to town for a while, before he heads back into the field."
"What does he do?"
Kevin had wandered over to the windows, and was staring out towards Vancouver's skyline. "He's a doctor. Works with Doctors without Borders. His wife, Sarah, she owns a rather profitable charitable organization here in the Lower Mainland."
"Why'd you go to Haiti, if you don't mind my asking."
"I'm one of the major benefactors of Sarah's company."
"So you're a philanthropist as well as the CFO of one of the largest professional service firms in the province."
Kevin chuckled. "Guilty as charged." He turned his attention from staring out of his window. "You hungry? I can see if there's some food."
Ryan shrugged.
Kevin cast Ryan one more glance before he turned his back to Ryan and made his way to the kitchen. "Feel free to take a look around if you like."
Kevin set about his task of finding any food. He was glad his housekeeper had come by at the beginning of the week. His housekeeper had been with him for years, and Kevin would be the first to admit he would be absolutely lost without her.
Sure enough, a quick glance into his fridge found there was enough food there for him to whip something up quickly. Despite an assumption that he did not cook, Kevin actually loved it. There was just something calming out of being able to put together a meal.
"Hey, you eat meat, right?" he called over his shoulder.
Ryan walked into the kitchen then, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. "Yeah, that's fine." He noticed Kevin pulling out a metal pot, and turning a dial on his stove. "What? Are you actually going to cook for me?"
Kevin filled the pot with water, and set the lid on it, before he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Ryan noticed the exorbitantly expensive watch on Kevin's left wrist. Another indication of how many worlds apart they were.
"It won't take me long. My housekeeper left me a container of already cooked meatballs. I just have to boil the water and toss it together with pasta sauce."
Ryan flushed. "You don't have to -"
"Ryan, it's no trouble, really."
Kevin's eyes flitted to the bag Ryan was still carrying. "Is that all of your belongings?"
Ryan's eyes sank to examine the floor. He kicked one foot with the other, and chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. "It's … it's a little complicated."
He felt Kevin's index finger as it touched his chin, raising his face, so Ryan had to stare at him. Ryan swallowed in an effort to work some moisture back into his throat.
"I'm not one to judge, Ry," Kevin whispered.
Ryan was about to say something about how no-one calls him 'Ry', but he finds words have failed him in that moment.
The air was crackling with electricity. Ryan was scared to move, thinking maybe one wrong move would cause the air to catch fire. He bites his bottom lip. "Yeah, it's all I have," he mumbles finally.
Kevin steps away from him then, Ryan's chin tingling from where Kevin's finger had been. Kevin lifts the lid from the pot to check the water. Satisfied with the rolling boil, Kevin sprinkled a pinch of salt into the pot. "Why don't you take a shower? And, I can get your belongings cleaned."
"I'm not a charity case," Ryan blurts out without thinking.
Kevin smirks, as he stirs a handful of spaghetti noodles into the boiling water. "It's not charity, Ry. Go take a shower."
Ryan hesitated for a moment, but really, he was dying for a shower. And a hot one at that. It was a rarity that he got a hot shower. Usually, the only time he managed to get a hot shower was if he was crashing at David's or Andrea's, at a client's, or if he managed to stumble his way to a shelter. Sometimes if he could scrape enough money together to pay for a night at a motel, he got one then.
"You can leave your stuff there if you want," Kevin said, as he continued to stir the pot.
-»«-
Ryan stepped out of the shower, the steam billowing around his naked form as he reached for a towel. He swiped his hand across the mirror, and stared at his reflection. He reached up to touch the pink pucker from his latest scar on his chest. It was healing nicely he thought. Ryan winced slightly when he pushed down on the corner of the scar. It was still sensitive. But, that would go away when it was fully healed.
Ryan bent over to grab his jeans from the floor. He pulled out the straw he still had from the pocket, and pulled out the small bag of coke he had in the back pocket. He shook the bag, and licked his lips in anticipation. He set the bag on the counter, and dumped the contents on the surface. He moved the coke into a line with his finger, being sure to pick up every particle. Satisfied with his line, he set the bag to the side.
Ryan knew a lot of coke users sucked coke out of bags if they didn't have anything to make a line with. He sucked at snorting out of a bag, though. He rubbed his finger over his teeth and gums, and felt the numbness kick through his system almost immediately. Fuck, this was going to be so damn good.
He pushed the end of the straw into his nose, holding it in his nostril, his other hand pushing his other nostril shut. He sniffed, and felt as the coke flew up into his nose.
The effect was almost instantaneous. He blinked his eyes rapidly as the coke hit his system. He licked the pad of his finger, ran it over the counter top to pick up any residual coke. He ran his finger over his teeth, tongue and gums, before he turned the bag inside out and ran that over his teeth and gums. Ryan inspected the bag when he was done, and satisfied nothing was left, he flushed it down the toilet, and buried the straw under the contents of a nearby wastebasket.
He washed his hands, and looked up at his reflection again. His pupils were dilated. Ryan pinched the thin skin on the back of his hand, just to see if there was any feeling left. None. Lovely. Just what he wanted. He closed his eyes, and sighed as the coke rushed through his system, flooding him with warmth. The euphoric haze around him was the best.
Ryan jumped slightly when he heard a knock on the door.
"You all right?" Kevin's voice was full of concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Ryan opened the door, totally forgetting he only had the towel wrapped around his waist.
He noticed Kevin's eyes as they quickly turned away from his naked torso. Ryan glanced down, and feigned shyness as he muttered, "Sorry."
"It's not a problem," Kevin whispered. He held out a pair of boxers and a robe. "I wasn't sure if you had any nightclothes in your possession, so I just thought I'd let you borrow these."
"Thanks," Ryan said, smiling at him as he took the robe and boxers.
"Um, your clothes," Kevin said.
"Oh, right," Ryan replied, turning to retrieve his dirty clothes from the ground. "You'll want to wash them too."
"There's food too," Kevin said, before he headed out of the bathroom.
Ryan closed the door, and leaned back against the wood, sighing loudly. He carefully unfolded the robe, and slid the boxers on.
He tucked his cigarettes into the pocket of the robe and sauntered back out to the kitchen.
Kevin placed a plate in front of him, and handed him the parmesan cheese. Ryan's appetite was shot, but he did not want to be rude, so he forced himself to take a bite.
It was weird eating while high on coke. It was like trying to eat while recovering from the flu, and after getting freezing done at the dentist. Ryan's mouth was numb, the food tasted like nothing.
"It taste okay?" Kevin asked, eyes full of abject horror. "I don't usually get complaints about my cooking."
Ryan's cheeks flushed. "No, it's fine. I just realized I'm not as hungry as I originally thought."
Kevin did not eat, but he sat next to Ryan while he ate. When Ryan was finished eating, Kevin cleared away his plate, and rinsed it in the sink before he placed the plate in the dishwasher. '
"Can I y'know?" Ryan asked, pulling out his cigarettes.
Kevin shook his head, and tossed him the lighter. "Knock yourself out."
Ryan laughed. "I think you said it would kill me." He heard Kevin laugh as he made his way to the balcony.
Ryan listened as the sounds of Vancouver floated up to him, as he stared out to the harbour. The boats bobbed on the surface of the dark water. The city is boozy and veiled. The black of the sky, with lush handfuls of twinkling stars curve around him. The yellow-orange of the lights on the neighbouring buildings providing a bit of light. The air smells like the rain, which had stopped by now.
He flicks the lighter, lets it catch on the end of his cigarette. He takes a long drag, and lets the nicotine rush through his veins. It's calming.
After he's finished with his cigarette, he stamps it out, and kicks it towards a corner. He makes his way back into the apartment, and sees Kevin sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine.
"The rain stopped," Ryan noted, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
Kevin looks up, before he gets up from his spot and makes his way over to Ryan.
"You okay?" he asked, reaching a hand out to touch Ryan's cheek, which was cool from the breeze outside.
Ryan nodded, and offered Kevin a small smile. "Fine. Just tired s'all."
Kevin frowned. "You sure? You look kind of … sick, or something."
"Like I said, just tired."
Kevin had a look like he wanted to press further, but at the last moment, he changed his mind. "Come on, I'll show you to your room."
Ryan followed Kevin to the spare bedroom. He found his bag at the foot of the bed. His jacket draped over a nearby chair.
"Your clothes will be ready in the morning," Kevin said. He was leaning against the wardrobe, watching Ryan's every move.
Ryan fingered the duvet cover, resisting the urge to fawn over the plush pillows and what he knew had to be at least six-hundred thread count sheets. He glanced up at Kevin, and grinned. "Thank you."
Kevin was about to say it was not a problem, but his words were cut off when he felt Ryan throw his arms around him, enveloping him in a hug.
Ryan pulled back then, letting his eyes flit to the ground. "Sorry."
"It's no trouble." Kevin did not have the heart to tell Ryan he still had his hand on his arm.
Eventually, Kevin backed up slightly, watching as Ryan's hand slid from his arm.
"Night, Ry."
When Ryan looked up next, he was alone in Kevin's guest room.
Notes: Here's the way I see Kevin's penthouse:
-
kitchen & living room space-
living room area-
alternate view of living room area-
bathroom-
one view from the balcony