Under Streetlights-Chapter Two
Title: Under Streetlights
Rating: PG-NC-17
Summary: Ville's a streetwalker with no hope... Until he meets Bam.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened.
Warnings: Language
It had been what his mother used to call ‘a day’. Bam smirked as he light a cigarette, moving both hands from the wheel. Funny that he should be using her phrases after all the times he’d rolled his eyes at them.
Slowly, he put his hand back on the wheel, not really watching the crumbling buildings as they passed him by. Why should he? He’d be taken care of. He was invincible.
It had been ‘a day’, and he needed… something. Needed something to help him unwind.
Bam scoffed at himself as he rolled down one of the windows to let the smoke from the cigarette out. As tough as he liked to seem, he was pretty proud of the car and didn’t really want this smell stuck in the upholstery forever.
God, when did he turn into such a pussy?
And what was he doing here anyway? What did he want? Drugs? Women? Men? All could easily be had here on this side of town. But didn’t he see enough of this during the day?
What he really wanted, Bam knew, was someone to talk to. He wanted someone who would have a meal waiting for him on the table when he got home, and he wanted someone who he could curl up with in bed and forget about the world.
Damn, he really was a pussy.
Disgusted with himself, the man threw the still lit cigarette out the window and gripped the wheel tightly with both hands. There had to be something, anything he could do to release this.
And there it was.
Bam slowed down when he saw the figure walking in front of him. He was unable to make out details and gender because of the shadows cast in this hellish street. But when the person stopped briefly under a streetlight, Bam’s breath caught in his throat.
“My God, you’re beautiful.” He murmured out loud, though he knew there was no chance of this being hearing him. As if on cue, the delicate head lifted, and those piercing green eyes stared at him.
And the boy there was beautiful. He was tall, slender, delicate, fragile, and precious. The long hair looked like something he could hide in, if he so desired. He had sculpted cheekbones, kissable, lovable lips, and skin the color of lilies.
The boy’s long fingers were gripping his upper arms as though he were cold. Well, it was a chilly night, Bam mused, especially if you were wearing a fishnet shirt and skimpy jeans that clung to your hips---. He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts.
It only took a few seconds.
Bam made a choice.
He pulled over just a few feet ahead of the beauty and rolled his window down the rest of the way before poking his head out.
“Hey!” he shouted, aware of the way his voice was cracking nervously. Those green eyes met his, and he felt shivers go up his spine.
“Do you need a ride?”
Rating: PG-NC-17
Summary: Ville's a streetwalker with no hope... Until he meets Bam.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened.
Warnings: Language
It had been what his mother used to call ‘a day’. Bam smirked as he light a cigarette, moving both hands from the wheel. Funny that he should be using her phrases after all the times he’d rolled his eyes at them.
Slowly, he put his hand back on the wheel, not really watching the crumbling buildings as they passed him by. Why should he? He’d be taken care of. He was invincible.
It had been ‘a day’, and he needed… something. Needed something to help him unwind.
Bam scoffed at himself as he rolled down one of the windows to let the smoke from the cigarette out. As tough as he liked to seem, he was pretty proud of the car and didn’t really want this smell stuck in the upholstery forever.
God, when did he turn into such a pussy?
And what was he doing here anyway? What did he want? Drugs? Women? Men? All could easily be had here on this side of town. But didn’t he see enough of this during the day?
What he really wanted, Bam knew, was someone to talk to. He wanted someone who would have a meal waiting for him on the table when he got home, and he wanted someone who he could curl up with in bed and forget about the world.
Damn, he really was a pussy.
Disgusted with himself, the man threw the still lit cigarette out the window and gripped the wheel tightly with both hands. There had to be something, anything he could do to release this.
And there it was.
Bam slowed down when he saw the figure walking in front of him. He was unable to make out details and gender because of the shadows cast in this hellish street. But when the person stopped briefly under a streetlight, Bam’s breath caught in his throat.
“My God, you’re beautiful.” He murmured out loud, though he knew there was no chance of this being hearing him. As if on cue, the delicate head lifted, and those piercing green eyes stared at him.
And the boy there was beautiful. He was tall, slender, delicate, fragile, and precious. The long hair looked like something he could hide in, if he so desired. He had sculpted cheekbones, kissable, lovable lips, and skin the color of lilies.
The boy’s long fingers were gripping his upper arms as though he were cold. Well, it was a chilly night, Bam mused, especially if you were wearing a fishnet shirt and skimpy jeans that clung to your hips---. He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts.
It only took a few seconds.
Bam made a choice.
He pulled over just a few feet ahead of the beauty and rolled his window down the rest of the way before poking his head out.
“Hey!” he shouted, aware of the way his voice was cracking nervously. Those green eyes met his, and he felt shivers go up his spine.
“Do you need a ride?”