Rentboy AU (luke/noah) - Parts 1 & 2 together
Title: The Interview
Author: nouveau_monday
Pairing: Noah/Luke
Rating: Now with NC-17 goodness
Word Count: 6kish
Summary: Noah is being interviewed by a reporter. Noah is not the Noah we know; he's a rentboy.
Spoilers: This is completely AU for the boys. So yeah, any relation to the story line is minor. Only facts I kept were the Colonel, Noah's mom, and Oakdale.
Disclaimer: As I said, this is AU. The characters belong to CBS and P&G and possibly others, but definitely not me.
Notes: Thank you so much to mightyten for being my beta for part of this. It's not fully beta'd so some mistakes are all mine. Feel free to email me or leave a comment if it's screwed up some how.
Noah curls his back into his pillows and wraps his arms around his legs. "What do you want to know?"
"Well, how did you get into ... this?" The reporter brushes his hair away from his face. "It's not everyday someone grows up and says, 'You know what? Think I'm going to go out and, well, umm -"
"Get paid by guys to take it up the ass?" Noah raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side. How old was this guy? Twelve maybe?
The guy chokes on his Diet Pepsi. Noah wonders idly if he's about to have to deal with a dead reporter. "Yeah. If that's, if that's," he swallows. "Hey, if that's cool. I didn't want to offend you. Didn't want to presume what you did." His hands sweat. His cheeks flush. "Or, umm, who you did it with."
Noah laughs. "So it's not the profession that bothers you, it's who I do it with that does?"
"God, no no! I didn't mean anything like that. Not at all. I just, you know, didn't want to -"
"Presume? Got that. It's cool. I told you when you stalked me at Yo's. Interview me. Go to town. Just don't use my real name. And no photographs." He glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. "Look, I've got to be on the streets by evening if I'm going to make rent. It's not really a busy time of year for me." He shrugs. How long had it been since he'd had a drink? a cigarette? He sighs. Three years, seven months, thirteen days. The three coins from various home groups shine dimly in the soft light from the window and remind him he really should go to an AA meeting if he wants this badly.
"Oh, hell, I'm sorry. Do you need me to come back another time? That's cool, y'know. I could do that. I want a good interview. You shouldn't feel rushed." The reporter sucks on the end of his pen. "Really. It's not a problem."
Noah reaches out a hand, puts it on the guy's wrist. "Hey, kid, it kinda is a problem. I don't give out interviews usually. And I'm certainly not meeting you again. You could tell the cops. Hell, you could be the cops. This might be part of a sting. What do I know? What do I care? But this is your chance. So why don't you ask my faggot self why I suck dick for money and then go about your happy go lucky life." He snags the can of soda from the boy's side while watching his mouth open and close without any words.
"I'm not a cop. And I'm not a kid. And fuck you. I'm trying to help with this. You shouldn't have to whore yourself. That's crazy. You can't be older than me. Where's your family? Your friends? Doesn't anyone care about if you're hurt or worse doing this?" The blonde goes from shock to anger and white knuckles the arm of the chair.
And that's it for Noah. Interview is so over now. He unwinds his arms from his legs, smoothes his wife beater over his stomach and crawls across the bed toward the kid. "How old do you think I am, kid? You never told me your name in the first place. One of the reasons I figured you weren't a cop. They always get anxious and introduce themselves. Practically bust out the wallet with the family pictures." He snorts. "As if I care that he's not really a queer, that's he got a wife and kids." Noah arches, unwinds his body, so his chin rests on his hands on the edge of the bed. The reporter's lap is less than a foot away.
The kid squeaks again. "I'm almost twenty-two and a senior at Oakdale University. I'm getting my degree in journalism. That's why I'm here. I explained all of that when I asked you to do this." He opens another can and the crack of the metal separating makes his hands shake.
"Careful. You're gonna spill. And then you might need to take off those jeans of yours. How would you explain that to your precious professors?"
"You might like it too much," he mutters.
"Excuse me?" Noah wants to laugh as the kid's face flushes cherry red under his blonde hair. "Just so you know, unless you pay me, I don't like anything. That's how it works in my world. Don't know how it works in yours."
"But, what about love? and monogamy? and coming home to someone? Don't you miss all that? Don't you want a family some day? You can't do this forever, y'know?" The kid gives up on writing note. He mutters about sounding like a dumb ass and hoping the story is good anyway.
Noah does laugh now. He finishes off the partial can he had grabbed, each swallow tips his head and neck back for the guy to watch. He sticks out his tongue for the last fizzy sip, laps gently at the lip of the can. Point for me, he decides as he hears a soft moan that definitely did not come from him. "You're so cute. Never had love. Never cared about monogamy. Never came home to anyone. Family will fuck you up for good. Why would I want to propagate the idiotic American Dream ideal? Also, dude, I'm gay. Never gonna have the wife, or the two point five kids or the two-car garage. At the rate I'm going, I'll be dead by the time I'm twenty-five anyway." He rolls onto his back, stares at the ceiling. The cotton ribbing of his shirt hikes up a little and his jeans hang off his hips. He hears the kid swallows again. <>Another point for me.
"If you think you're going to be dead by twenty-five then you can't be that much older than me. My family is crazy. Like, really crazy. But it didn't drive me to what you're doing. So what the hell? Emo attitude aside, again I ask, why?"
Noah tips his head off the edge of the bed, covers his eyes with his palms. "When your dad tells you you're nothing but the no good son of a whore and that you don't even deserve the clothes on your back, you learn two things pretty quickly. One, if it was good enough for mom, then it's good enough for you. And two, if you don't deserve the clothes on your back, then maybe you better make money on your back without them on." He removes his palms and stares, upside down, at the reporter. "We almost done?"
"How much do you need to make tonight?" The words are out of his mouth before he knows what he's saying. That much is clear to Noah, as the kid looks like he can't believe he just asked that.
Noah winks. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." And it is a pretty face. He would never have agreed to this farce of an interview otherwise. "I've been saving. Even if I only get one or two, it'll do until tomorrow. Maybe it's time to find a new location anyway. I hear Miami's nice this time of year. And in Nevada at least my ass could be legal, y'know?"
"You're leaving?" He shakes his head. "Wait. Don't distract me. I asked you a question. I've asked you a ton, actually, but I really meant this one. How much?"
"More than you can afford on a college boy's salary unless you've got a real hard-on for whores and have been saving up. My sweet ass don't come cheap, kid." He slips out the word 'kid' as slowly as possible. He can't help himself.
There is fumbling in pockets. The recorder falls on the floor. "Look. I've got, umm," he counts the crumpled bills, "I've got five hundred. How much of your time can that get me?"
"You're serious?" Noah shifts back to his stomach. "You're willing to shell out five hundred dollars to what? Keep me off the streets for a night? Think you're doing me a favor? This isn't fucking Pretty Woman."
"I don't think that, Noah. I don't. I'm not naive just because I want to settle down some day. That doesn't make me dumb." He stands up, drops the money roll next to the alarm clock. He sits on the bed next to Noah and runs a warm hand over the stretch of exposed skin on his stomach. "I've got the money. I've been saving it. For you. I saw you in October when you started working the corner near Yo's. It took me this long to find out who you were, find out what your deal was. And now, as you so eloquently put it, I want to be one of those guys who pays you to take it up the ass. Noah, I'm gay. I've been out for seven years. But sometimes, finding someone is a pain. There aren't a lot of out and proud here, and I'm not so good with the approaching them. Finding someone as hot as you is definitely hard, no pun intended. Especially in this area. So, if you'd take the money and, you know, let me make you come screaming my name, well, I'd be much obliged." A blush dusts the reporter's face.
"For five hundred, I'd even make you breakfast in the morning. And I'd make sure you were as much obliged as you think I'm going to be. I have a couple regulars, but if you got that kinda cash, I'd pick up another, no question." Noah likes the touch of this guy's hand. It's not angry, just thoughtful, and he doesn't seem nervous any more. He hates that he told this guy his real name, wishes he'd thought to use Jake instead. How was he supposed to know the cute guy who asked to buy him coffee was actually looking to pick him up? Noah shakes the uneasy feeling from his head. "Got a name, kid? That way I know what to scream as I'm coming?"
The reporter stands up, strips off his shirt and pants efficiently, commando underneath. He folds them on the chair, then comes back to the bed. He straddles Noah's thighs and smirks, leans in toward Noah, flops blonde hair into both of their faces. "The name's Luke," he breathes over Noah's skin. "Luke Snyder, and I promise, I'm gonna make this worth your while."
*****
Noah's laughter catches in his throat as the earnest ray of sunshine that had been interviewing him grabs power from somewhere within him. The kid looks like he knows how to control every muscle in his own body. He breathes inwardly, slinks up Noah so their cocks line up through the layer of denim. He watches the kid brush aside anything that doesn't personify Top.
"Well okay, Luke Snyder," Noah purrs. "You've bought my time and piqued my curiosity. Let me get out supplies and get naked. Five hundred buys you damn near anything you want tonight. If you'll let me put the money in my safe, I can even pull out the handcuffs." Noah winks, undulates to rock into Luke's groin. "Police issue. The real deal. The cop felt sorry, and maybe guilty. I wasn't about to argue. He tipped well, left the cuffs, and accidentally screwed up the report so the charges were dropped."
Luke captures Noah's wrists between his fingers, squeezes. "No handcuffs necessary this time. And, umm, I'd like to undress you? If that's allowed? Where do you keep ... stuff?"
Noah rolls his eyes. Jesus the kid was innocent. What the fuck did he want with a whore? No way there wasn't some sweet little GLBT dorkboy waiting at home, or in a dorm, for this one. "Condoms and lube in the top drawer of the night stand. Massage oil and flavored lube in the middle drawer."
"And the bottom one?"
"Toys, kid. Plenty of them. Plugs, vibrators, scarves, ties, paddles, the handcuffs. You got a kink? I can accommodate you." Noah uses the arch of his back and the length of his arms to reach the stand. He opens each drawer a little bit as he describes its contents.
Luke shakes his head. "I'm good."
Noah takes the moment to eyeball the kid that had just purchased his time. His cock was bigger than expected, and he's been hiding well defined muscles under his baggy clothes. "More than good." Noah touches the tip of his tongue to his upper lip and smiles. "Want me any specific way, or should I just roll over?"
Luke crawls off him. "Sit up. Wanna start by getting this shirt off." He tugs at the thin ribbed cotton, clumsy, needy. He winks. "Guess I should see if you're worth all this."
Noah rotates to lean his back against the headboard. He wishes the light was dimmer, or preferably off. This part - the examining the merchandise - he's never gotten used to it. Noah attempts to relax the clench of his jaw. "And if I'm not?" He raises his arms, closes his eyes as the shirt is peeled over his skin. "What then?" He keeps his eyes jammed shut.
"Oh."
The soft exclamation has Noah curling up, tucking his knees up to his chin. He dares to lift his eyelids, regards Luke from behind his eyelashes, cannot fathom what Luke sees. "What? What does 'Oh' mean?"
"You. You're. God." His words are a benediction across Noah's skin. His hands reach to brush across the dip of pale skin at Noah's collarbone.
"Yeah, well, God hasn't been here in awhile. Expecting to go somewhere else really, what with all I've done." Noah reaches back again to adjust his light to a dimmer setting. He shifts to rummage through the top drawer of his nightstand. "I've got latex and latex-free, if you've got allergies. Latex comes in a variety of thicknesses and textures." Noah refuses to look at his client who appears to have frozen. He chooses instead to spread out their options. "I don't need compliments. I give them. Just chose what you need for now and I'll put the rest away. That's how this works. You've paid for the time. I don't skip out on clients. Word spreads fast if you do that." He sighs at Luke's wide brown-eyed stare. I'm going to have to hold his hand through him fucking my ass. That butch act earlier must have been just that. An act. "Here. Latex, but the best." Noah drops a condom at Luke's side. "This is my preference for lube. It washes off the easiest." He tosses that next to the rubber. "Only other request I have is that you don't leave marks. A lot of idiots like to imagine that they're my first." He laughs. "So yeah, I get better tips if I'm not covered in hickeys or anything."
"No marks. Right." Luke scoops up the small packet of lube. "I use the same kind."
"Well isn't that just peachy. With your boyfriend?"
"I don't have a boyfriend right now," Luke growls. "I'd never cheat on someone. Who do you think I am?"
Noah arches his eyebrow at the indignant look on his client's face. "Dude. I think you're the guy that just paid a whore to get him off. Speaking of, are we going to get on to that any time soon?"
"Now. So done with talking. And don't call yourself that." Luke pushes Noah's legs down, sits on his calves. He slips the first button from its hole in Noah's jeans. The others pop easily when he yanks. Luke's hands shake, but Noah remains silent, eyes downcast. "Up."
Noah cants his hips, helps Luke strip him. His muscles ache to curl up again, to protect him from the slow survey of night dark eyes.
"Where'd that come from?" Luke runs a finger over raised scar tissue along Noah's ribcage.
Noah shrugs. "Somewhere. Nowhere. I don't remember." Sweat raises on his palms. He hears the rough tones of fear in his own clogged throat. Before he knew better. Before he knew not to get caught.
"Same for these ones?" Luke's fingers skirt over the five small circles on Noah's thigh.
"Yeah. It was awhile ago." Before he'd stuffed enough clothes for a week and the $250 the Colonel kept for emergencies in his backpack. Before he'd taken a bus to DC and found himself desperate for food, shelter, human touch. "Years even."
"What about these?" Luke flicks his fingers across the body jewelry.
Noah whimpers. "When I was seventeen. I traded blowjobs with a friend who had just gotten his piercing license." He bites his lip against the pleasure reverberating from the push and pull of the barbell in each nipple.
"Body modification as business investment?" Luke palms Noah's chest, massages around the metal without direct pressure.
Noah shifts, ignores the throb in his cock. "No, Mr. Reporter." He coughs to cover the squeak he almost lets out. "No. Those were just for me. Not a lot of call for whores to get off. It's not really about my needs. This one," he sticks out his tongue. "This was a business investment. Couldn't give head for nearly a month, but the money since then? Totally worth it." He rolls the jewelry against his lips, watches Luke's slack-jawed lust. "Get that rubber on and I'll show you what this baby's good for. I've been told it's a whole new world." Noah reaches for Luke's hips.
"Wait, no." He grabs Noah's wrists. "I don't want you to blow me."
"You don't?" Noah knows he fails to hide the skepticism in his voice, vacillating between amused and insulted. Luke's cock tells a different story.
"Okay, shit. Yes, all right? Yes I do very much want you to blow me. I'd love it. But really, I want what I said in the first place. I want to fuck you. Hard. Now."
"How do you want me?"
"On your knees, I guess."
"You guess? Kid, make a decision. Lights? Want them on or off?"
"On."
"There, that wasn't so hard." Noah grins. He's into the rhythm now. None of that fake seduction shit Luke was trying to pull before. "You gonna prep me or should I? I would have done it earlier if I'd known it was going to be that kind of interview."
"I can. If you trust me?"
Noah frowned. "It's not about trust. it's about business. And maybe the fact that I'm licensed to carry concealed in several other states. I can't believe it hasn't passed here yet. I trust myself, kid, now let me turn over." He wiggles his legs free from the warm weight of Luke and rotates. He rests his head on his arms, spreads his legs enough for his client to fit between them. "I'm good," he murmurs as much to the pillow as to Luke.
"Not yet. But you will be."
Luke's fingers surprise Noah as they explore his back. He holds his breath at the touch to old scars, almost whimpers at the sensation of lips at his lower back.
"I like the tattoo." Wet heat traces the symbol. "Stand for something? Another investment?"
Noah fails to breath for a moment. "Yeah." He refuses to say more, refuses to say which.
"Fair enough." Luke presses his front against Noah. Reaching over him, his cock grazes the crease of Noah's ass.
"Hey! Lube! Condoms! Fuck, get off me!" He gets his knees up under him, but doesn't manage to buck the kid. "Get away from me."
"Whoa, easy. Easy. I'm getting a pillow is all. Here, lift up a little." Luke steadies his hand, pets across Noah's hip, down his outer thigh. "You're more skittish than the colts at the farm. Just wanted to make it easier. Helps if you aren't flat against the bed. Certainly more comfortable for you."
"I'm not a damned virgin." Noah can't help but laugh. "My comfort isn't high on my list of priorities." He adjusts the pillow, wedges it against his stomach, keeps his legs underneath him.
"Yeah, well. It should be. People are supposed to like their jobs at least a little bit, or, I don't know, find a new profession." He tears open the lube, held in his hand since he noted the brand. "Should be warm now." Luke hesitates.
Noah waits. Naked with his ass in the air isn't his favorite way to spend an evening. "Any time, kid."
"Quit it with the kid bit, will you?" Luke palms Noah's ass, startles a gasp from him by grazing his teeth over the firm flesh. "I'm not a kid. I told you. We're the same age. Now be quiet a moment and let me, I don't know, concentrate." He pauses, rubs his fingers against the pale skin in front of him. "Maybe you need a clearer reminder?" His teeth nip Noah's skin, nearer the crack, lathes his tongue over the red mark he leaves. "You're mine for now. I bought you until tomorrow."
"I told you no fuckin' marks. You wanna bite, you need to pay more. If I bruise, I can't work until it's gone." He waits. keeps his face toward the pillow and away from his client. Jesus, can we get on with the program already? "Gonna fuck me, Ace, or just crow about it? I'll give you back your money, no harm, no foul, and hit the streets if you can't get it up. Call the interview what it was - a way for you to meet me. We're all square now. You've met a whore. Consider your life goal fulfilled." Noah shimmies, teases Luke, cranes his head to try and see him. "We done here?"
*****
"No." Luke clutches his hands, strong from farm work, over Noah's fine china pale hips. "We are most certainly not done. You need the money. And I," he swallows. "God I want you. Just stuff your face into that pillow and get ready to scream." He growls, not a fucking kid, not someone's younger brother, someone's poor gay son. He's a goddamned senior in college, with a good job, and good prospects and why is he giving himself a self-help talk when there's all this skin and potential being offered up in front of him.
Luke can't help himself. He places the lube down on the nightstand so it doesn't squish everywhere. He watches the muscles of Noah's back shudder. "Don't worry, baby, I'm not that rough. Got a better idea." He figures that for enough warning, uses his thumbs to spread Noah wide enough to blow against his entrance. Luke's pulse increases. He leans in, swipes the flat of his tongue over the delicate skin. He groans, swipes his tongue again, tastes soap, and sin, and his own desire to make the man in front of him fall apart. "God." Another lick. He swirls his tongue. "Fuck," he whispers. None of his stupid boyfriends ever let him do this.
"Wha-" Noah swallows, tries to move away from the heat of Luke's hands and the wet of his mouth. "What? What are you doing?" Luke hears the whine in Noah's voice, wonders about the weakness. "Jesus."
Luke holds tighter, stops Noah moving. "Am I, umm, is it bad? Or not allowed or something? Because if you really don't know, I guess maybe I'm doing something wrong." He points his tongue, dips past strong muscle and into heat. He laughs at the moans he can ring from a man with more experience in a week than Luke has had in his entire life. He delves deeper, spreads Noah wider with hands, blows cool breath over damp skin. "Jesus, you're gorgeous everywhere"
"Yeah, well, it helps in this line of - nnngh"
Luke slides his legs behind and between Noah's, effectively cutting off his words. He moves one hand to the tattoo in the small of Noah's back and strokes down the inside of his thigh with the other. Luke's tongue maintains a steady lick, press routine. He's aware of his dick like he never has been. The heady power of being in charge - an act he rarely performed - sings in his blood. "God. Need to. Fuck" He pants against Noah's skin, watches the play of muscles as they shudder.
*****
Noah white knuckles his sheets. His spine is tight. His chest heaves. He will not whimper, will not beg. Fuck that. Some pretty boy wants to tongue his ass and pay him, so much the better. He screws his eyes shut, remember his job against the black of his eyelids. "That's it, Ace. Don't need much. Come on. Suit up and lube me." He can't say his normal line, can't say It's never been like this with anyone else. The sting of not lying burns at his throat. "I'm ready when you are." He rocks his hips back, gasps at the stubble against his skin. Noah needs this over now. He can taste salty blood and diet soda on his bite-bruised lips. Each swipe of hot, wet tongue creates false intimacy and draws more boiling need to his cock. "Jesus. Fuck me already." He pants, refuses to say it's never been like this, refuses to give anything but ass away. Noah releases the hand nearer the nightstand and grabs the packet Luke set down. He fumbles his arm back, but makes his point clear. He catches his breath, arches his back, wants a cigarette so fucking bad. Lost in his own denial, Noah moans aloud when two fingers are pressed deep inside.
"So tight. Noah. So amazing." Luke traces each knot of Noah's spine with his tongue. "Come on, baby. Want to hear you. Fuck. Want to make you cry out." His chest is flush with Noah's skin. His dick rides the small of his back, slicking pre-come over black ink. Luke reaches his other hand around to tug at the metal in Noah's nipples.
He barely hears the sigh of breath Noah expels. Luke's nerves are pulsing, vibrant against his skin, so he can't help but notice how Noah leans into the tug and thrusts back onto his fingers. Luke tugs at the piercings once again and adds a third finger simultaneously. Shit. He's not going to make it. He needs to know the sensation of Noah around him right the fuck now. "I'm so ready, baby, so ready. Wanted you to come first, but I can't." He slides hands away from Noah, struggles with the rubber and the lube and his own blinding need.
Luke lines his dick up with Noah's ass. He presses in harder and faster than he means to and forgets how to breathe all at once. He uses all his strength to pull Noah up. Luke's legs threaten to give and he's glad he's more or less kneeling. The shift of position drives him deeper into Noah.
Noah keeps his eyes closed barely. The safety of darkness wars with the stars he begins to see as Luke slides across his prostate. He leans back into the cage his client's arms. Older clients couldn't enjoy this, didn't want the contact of sweaty skin against skin. His cock drips pre-come. His inner thighs are over sensitive and he feels everything rub against him.
Hands cover his ribs, slide up his side, tease up to his nipples. Noah toys with his tongue stud to muffle any sound he wants to make. He allows his head to roll back, stretches his neck against Luke's shoulder, making sure to face away from his client. He lifts himself up and down, bends, squeezes, rocks, anything to speed Luke to climax. Noah's hands wrap behind their connected bodies. He clings to his client's back.
*****
Extra money be damned, Luke decides. He fists Noah's dick and turns to bite hard at the pale column of exposed skin. Luke speeds his thrusts and his hand, sucks punishing, branding marks. "I'll pay. I'll pay," he promises. "Just needed to it. Needed to, fuck, just needed to do it, Noah."
"Damn right you will." The thickness of Noah's words catch at the edge of Luke's brain.
"Shit. Did I? Did I hurt you?" His hand pauses. His hips stop moving.
"Only going to hurt me if you stop right now. Come on, Ace. Both of us were almost there." Noah lifts himself up and down. He pants. "Come on, come on, come on."
Luke can follow cues, especially when they lead to orgasms, and right now that's the goal. He twists his hand to gather more of the slick pre-come, tightens his hand a little more roughly. His hips snap up. God, feels so good, almost too good. "I'm almost there, baby, almost there. Just, oh god, fuck." His legs shake. His toes curl. He tips them forward, grateful that Noah catches on quick enough to brace them both. Luke can't help it, can't be soft, can't be gentle, just needs to go harder, faster, deeper, own. He growls, shifts his teeth to scrape against Noah's shoulder and bites again, sucking blood bruises to the surface of Noah's skin.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Noah swears into the pillow.
Luke's hand and hips stutter as he comes. He pushes himself through the aftershocks even as he continues to fist Noah. "Come for me, baby. You can do it. Let yourself go." He swipes his thumb over the slit, jacks Noah with new determination. "Now, baby, Noah, Noah, Noah," he whispers into Noah's back.
Noah's body shakes and then he is coming, just like Luke told him to do. "Oh god, oh god, oh god. So good. So good, Luke." Luke likes the sound of Noah's whispered words, likes the look of this gorgeous man flushed pink and fucked out, loves that Noah called his name.
"So beautiful, baby," Luke laps at Noah's neck, tastes sweat and sex. His dick twitches, but he knows that won't actually be happening any time soon. He's sleepy and fucked out himself. "Gonna pull out now. I'll be careful." He trails kisses down Noah's vertebrae while his hand clutches at the condom. His breath hitches, feeling lost without the intimate contact of being inside someone. He ties off the rubber.
"Trashcan on the left by the head of the bed." Noah tips his head to sort of nod at where he meant. Other than that, he doesn't move. Luke watches that his hands haven't released the sheets from where he braced their fall. His chest still moves quickly, but other than that Noah's not switching positions or looking at Luke or anything.
"Are you alright?" Luke isn't sure what to do, what he wants. He hadn't thought he would actually get up the courage to pay for services in the first place. He slides his body next to Noah's, curls around him. "That was amazing. You were amazing, Noah." He hates that he can't think of better words to explain what just happened. He tightens his grip around Noah's chest, pets his stomach, loves the feel of afterglow.
*****
Noah thinks maybe he's about to die. There's no other explanation for how empty he is, and still he wants to throw up the sum of his entire life's food intake. He shakes and can't stop enough to even tell Luke to not touch him. He's dizzy. "You have to go. You have to go now."
Muscles tighten around him pulling Noah closer into the warmth of Luke's skin. "What?"
Noah inhales. Salt burns in his eyes. "I'm not your fucking baby. I may be amazing, but that's because I'm a goddamn whore, kid. I've trained myself to be skilled, to take it up the ass and make men feel good about themselves." He struggles free, rolls onto his stomach, will not make eye contact. "My normal fee is $200 for anal at this time of year. You marked me up, but we'll call it even. Take $300 back and get the hell out of here." He clutches the pillow, wraps himself around it.
There is no movement behind him. The bed remains still.
"Didn't you hear me the first time? I said to leave. Tricks don't get to stay the night unless I say so and unless they buy the room. This isn't the fucking Lakeview and you didn't pay. Take your money, hell, take the whole fucking bankroll and get out of here" The harsh words rip at his throat, stings his lungs. He manages to choke it out and then can't stop. "Go. Go. Go."
Noah hears Luke stumble off the bed. "I don't understand? What just happened? Noah?" He throws on his jeans and t-shirt with no clean up. Luke kneels in front of Noah's face, tentatively drops a hand to Noah's bare shoulder. "How did I screw this up? Explain it to me?"
Noah shoves his palms against his eyes. His voice, hell everything, is broken. "There's nothing to explain. You sat down for coffee at Yo's. I thought, I don't know, I thought maybe you were interested." He swallows the hot taste of bile. "And instead, it turns out you know who I am, what I do, and now." He can't continue this conversation. "Now you need to get the fuck out of here so I can vomit and take a shower and maybe puke again. So thanks, kid, for a spectacular orgasm. Take your money and get the fuck out."
Noah peaks through his fingers, watches Luke stand up, hears him whisper, "This isn't over" as he makes his way to the door.
He hears the snick of the door before he rolls over to heave violently into the trashcan, covering the used condom and lube package, wiping out all signs that something had happened. "Wanna bet?" It's so over. Noah forces himself out of bed and heads to his bathroom. Inside he scours the scent of Luke off of him and contemplates where he'll find a new street corner until the end of the month when his lease runs up.
The Next Part
Author: nouveau_monday
Pairing: Noah/Luke
Rating: Now with NC-17 goodness
Word Count: 6kish
Summary: Noah is being interviewed by a reporter. Noah is not the Noah we know; he's a rentboy.
Spoilers: This is completely AU for the boys. So yeah, any relation to the story line is minor. Only facts I kept were the Colonel, Noah's mom, and Oakdale.
Disclaimer: As I said, this is AU. The characters belong to CBS and P&G and possibly others, but definitely not me.
Notes: Thank you so much to mightyten for being my beta for part of this. It's not fully beta'd so some mistakes are all mine. Feel free to email me or leave a comment if it's screwed up some how.
Noah curls his back into his pillows and wraps his arms around his legs. "What do you want to know?"
"Well, how did you get into ... this?" The reporter brushes his hair away from his face. "It's not everyday someone grows up and says, 'You know what? Think I'm going to go out and, well, umm -"
"Get paid by guys to take it up the ass?" Noah raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side. How old was this guy? Twelve maybe?
The guy chokes on his Diet Pepsi. Noah wonders idly if he's about to have to deal with a dead reporter. "Yeah. If that's, if that's," he swallows. "Hey, if that's cool. I didn't want to offend you. Didn't want to presume what you did." His hands sweat. His cheeks flush. "Or, umm, who you did it with."
Noah laughs. "So it's not the profession that bothers you, it's who I do it with that does?"
"God, no no! I didn't mean anything like that. Not at all. I just, you know, didn't want to -"
"Presume? Got that. It's cool. I told you when you stalked me at Yo's. Interview me. Go to town. Just don't use my real name. And no photographs." He glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. "Look, I've got to be on the streets by evening if I'm going to make rent. It's not really a busy time of year for me." He shrugs. How long had it been since he'd had a drink? a cigarette? He sighs. Three years, seven months, thirteen days. The three coins from various home groups shine dimly in the soft light from the window and remind him he really should go to an AA meeting if he wants this badly.
"Oh, hell, I'm sorry. Do you need me to come back another time? That's cool, y'know. I could do that. I want a good interview. You shouldn't feel rushed." The reporter sucks on the end of his pen. "Really. It's not a problem."
Noah reaches out a hand, puts it on the guy's wrist. "Hey, kid, it kinda is a problem. I don't give out interviews usually. And I'm certainly not meeting you again. You could tell the cops. Hell, you could be the cops. This might be part of a sting. What do I know? What do I care? But this is your chance. So why don't you ask my faggot self why I suck dick for money and then go about your happy go lucky life." He snags the can of soda from the boy's side while watching his mouth open and close without any words.
"I'm not a cop. And I'm not a kid. And fuck you. I'm trying to help with this. You shouldn't have to whore yourself. That's crazy. You can't be older than me. Where's your family? Your friends? Doesn't anyone care about if you're hurt or worse doing this?" The blonde goes from shock to anger and white knuckles the arm of the chair.
And that's it for Noah. Interview is so over now. He unwinds his arms from his legs, smoothes his wife beater over his stomach and crawls across the bed toward the kid. "How old do you think I am, kid? You never told me your name in the first place. One of the reasons I figured you weren't a cop. They always get anxious and introduce themselves. Practically bust out the wallet with the family pictures." He snorts. "As if I care that he's not really a queer, that's he got a wife and kids." Noah arches, unwinds his body, so his chin rests on his hands on the edge of the bed. The reporter's lap is less than a foot away.
The kid squeaks again. "I'm almost twenty-two and a senior at Oakdale University. I'm getting my degree in journalism. That's why I'm here. I explained all of that when I asked you to do this." He opens another can and the crack of the metal separating makes his hands shake.
"Careful. You're gonna spill. And then you might need to take off those jeans of yours. How would you explain that to your precious professors?"
"You might like it too much," he mutters.
"Excuse me?" Noah wants to laugh as the kid's face flushes cherry red under his blonde hair. "Just so you know, unless you pay me, I don't like anything. That's how it works in my world. Don't know how it works in yours."
"But, what about love? and monogamy? and coming home to someone? Don't you miss all that? Don't you want a family some day? You can't do this forever, y'know?" The kid gives up on writing note. He mutters about sounding like a dumb ass and hoping the story is good anyway.
Noah does laugh now. He finishes off the partial can he had grabbed, each swallow tips his head and neck back for the guy to watch. He sticks out his tongue for the last fizzy sip, laps gently at the lip of the can. Point for me, he decides as he hears a soft moan that definitely did not come from him. "You're so cute. Never had love. Never cared about monogamy. Never came home to anyone. Family will fuck you up for good. Why would I want to propagate the idiotic American Dream ideal? Also, dude, I'm gay. Never gonna have the wife, or the two point five kids or the two-car garage. At the rate I'm going, I'll be dead by the time I'm twenty-five anyway." He rolls onto his back, stares at the ceiling. The cotton ribbing of his shirt hikes up a little and his jeans hang off his hips. He hears the kid swallows again. <>Another point for me.
"If you think you're going to be dead by twenty-five then you can't be that much older than me. My family is crazy. Like, really crazy. But it didn't drive me to what you're doing. So what the hell? Emo attitude aside, again I ask, why?"
Noah tips his head off the edge of the bed, covers his eyes with his palms. "When your dad tells you you're nothing but the no good son of a whore and that you don't even deserve the clothes on your back, you learn two things pretty quickly. One, if it was good enough for mom, then it's good enough for you. And two, if you don't deserve the clothes on your back, then maybe you better make money on your back without them on." He removes his palms and stares, upside down, at the reporter. "We almost done?"
"How much do you need to make tonight?" The words are out of his mouth before he knows what he's saying. That much is clear to Noah, as the kid looks like he can't believe he just asked that.
Noah winks. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." And it is a pretty face. He would never have agreed to this farce of an interview otherwise. "I've been saving. Even if I only get one or two, it'll do until tomorrow. Maybe it's time to find a new location anyway. I hear Miami's nice this time of year. And in Nevada at least my ass could be legal, y'know?"
"You're leaving?" He shakes his head. "Wait. Don't distract me. I asked you a question. I've asked you a ton, actually, but I really meant this one. How much?"
"More than you can afford on a college boy's salary unless you've got a real hard-on for whores and have been saving up. My sweet ass don't come cheap, kid." He slips out the word 'kid' as slowly as possible. He can't help himself.
There is fumbling in pockets. The recorder falls on the floor. "Look. I've got, umm," he counts the crumpled bills, "I've got five hundred. How much of your time can that get me?"
"You're serious?" Noah shifts back to his stomach. "You're willing to shell out five hundred dollars to what? Keep me off the streets for a night? Think you're doing me a favor? This isn't fucking Pretty Woman."
"I don't think that, Noah. I don't. I'm not naive just because I want to settle down some day. That doesn't make me dumb." He stands up, drops the money roll next to the alarm clock. He sits on the bed next to Noah and runs a warm hand over the stretch of exposed skin on his stomach. "I've got the money. I've been saving it. For you. I saw you in October when you started working the corner near Yo's. It took me this long to find out who you were, find out what your deal was. And now, as you so eloquently put it, I want to be one of those guys who pays you to take it up the ass. Noah, I'm gay. I've been out for seven years. But sometimes, finding someone is a pain. There aren't a lot of out and proud here, and I'm not so good with the approaching them. Finding someone as hot as you is definitely hard, no pun intended. Especially in this area. So, if you'd take the money and, you know, let me make you come screaming my name, well, I'd be much obliged." A blush dusts the reporter's face.
"For five hundred, I'd even make you breakfast in the morning. And I'd make sure you were as much obliged as you think I'm going to be. I have a couple regulars, but if you got that kinda cash, I'd pick up another, no question." Noah likes the touch of this guy's hand. It's not angry, just thoughtful, and he doesn't seem nervous any more. He hates that he told this guy his real name, wishes he'd thought to use Jake instead. How was he supposed to know the cute guy who asked to buy him coffee was actually looking to pick him up? Noah shakes the uneasy feeling from his head. "Got a name, kid? That way I know what to scream as I'm coming?"
The reporter stands up, strips off his shirt and pants efficiently, commando underneath. He folds them on the chair, then comes back to the bed. He straddles Noah's thighs and smirks, leans in toward Noah, flops blonde hair into both of their faces. "The name's Luke," he breathes over Noah's skin. "Luke Snyder, and I promise, I'm gonna make this worth your while."
*****
Noah's laughter catches in his throat as the earnest ray of sunshine that had been interviewing him grabs power from somewhere within him. The kid looks like he knows how to control every muscle in his own body. He breathes inwardly, slinks up Noah so their cocks line up through the layer of denim. He watches the kid brush aside anything that doesn't personify Top.
"Well okay, Luke Snyder," Noah purrs. "You've bought my time and piqued my curiosity. Let me get out supplies and get naked. Five hundred buys you damn near anything you want tonight. If you'll let me put the money in my safe, I can even pull out the handcuffs." Noah winks, undulates to rock into Luke's groin. "Police issue. The real deal. The cop felt sorry, and maybe guilty. I wasn't about to argue. He tipped well, left the cuffs, and accidentally screwed up the report so the charges were dropped."
Luke captures Noah's wrists between his fingers, squeezes. "No handcuffs necessary this time. And, umm, I'd like to undress you? If that's allowed? Where do you keep ... stuff?"
Noah rolls his eyes. Jesus the kid was innocent. What the fuck did he want with a whore? No way there wasn't some sweet little GLBT dorkboy waiting at home, or in a dorm, for this one. "Condoms and lube in the top drawer of the night stand. Massage oil and flavored lube in the middle drawer."
"And the bottom one?"
"Toys, kid. Plenty of them. Plugs, vibrators, scarves, ties, paddles, the handcuffs. You got a kink? I can accommodate you." Noah uses the arch of his back and the length of his arms to reach the stand. He opens each drawer a little bit as he describes its contents.
Luke shakes his head. "I'm good."
Noah takes the moment to eyeball the kid that had just purchased his time. His cock was bigger than expected, and he's been hiding well defined muscles under his baggy clothes. "More than good." Noah touches the tip of his tongue to his upper lip and smiles. "Want me any specific way, or should I just roll over?"
Luke crawls off him. "Sit up. Wanna start by getting this shirt off." He tugs at the thin ribbed cotton, clumsy, needy. He winks. "Guess I should see if you're worth all this."
Noah rotates to lean his back against the headboard. He wishes the light was dimmer, or preferably off. This part - the examining the merchandise - he's never gotten used to it. Noah attempts to relax the clench of his jaw. "And if I'm not?" He raises his arms, closes his eyes as the shirt is peeled over his skin. "What then?" He keeps his eyes jammed shut.
"Oh."
The soft exclamation has Noah curling up, tucking his knees up to his chin. He dares to lift his eyelids, regards Luke from behind his eyelashes, cannot fathom what Luke sees. "What? What does 'Oh' mean?"
"You. You're. God." His words are a benediction across Noah's skin. His hands reach to brush across the dip of pale skin at Noah's collarbone.
"Yeah, well, God hasn't been here in awhile. Expecting to go somewhere else really, what with all I've done." Noah reaches back again to adjust his light to a dimmer setting. He shifts to rummage through the top drawer of his nightstand. "I've got latex and latex-free, if you've got allergies. Latex comes in a variety of thicknesses and textures." Noah refuses to look at his client who appears to have frozen. He chooses instead to spread out their options. "I don't need compliments. I give them. Just chose what you need for now and I'll put the rest away. That's how this works. You've paid for the time. I don't skip out on clients. Word spreads fast if you do that." He sighs at Luke's wide brown-eyed stare. I'm going to have to hold his hand through him fucking my ass. That butch act earlier must have been just that. An act. "Here. Latex, but the best." Noah drops a condom at Luke's side. "This is my preference for lube. It washes off the easiest." He tosses that next to the rubber. "Only other request I have is that you don't leave marks. A lot of idiots like to imagine that they're my first." He laughs. "So yeah, I get better tips if I'm not covered in hickeys or anything."
"No marks. Right." Luke scoops up the small packet of lube. "I use the same kind."
"Well isn't that just peachy. With your boyfriend?"
"I don't have a boyfriend right now," Luke growls. "I'd never cheat on someone. Who do you think I am?"
Noah arches his eyebrow at the indignant look on his client's face. "Dude. I think you're the guy that just paid a whore to get him off. Speaking of, are we going to get on to that any time soon?"
"Now. So done with talking. And don't call yourself that." Luke pushes Noah's legs down, sits on his calves. He slips the first button from its hole in Noah's jeans. The others pop easily when he yanks. Luke's hands shake, but Noah remains silent, eyes downcast. "Up."
Noah cants his hips, helps Luke strip him. His muscles ache to curl up again, to protect him from the slow survey of night dark eyes.
"Where'd that come from?" Luke runs a finger over raised scar tissue along Noah's ribcage.
Noah shrugs. "Somewhere. Nowhere. I don't remember." Sweat raises on his palms. He hears the rough tones of fear in his own clogged throat. Before he knew better. Before he knew not to get caught.
"Same for these ones?" Luke's fingers skirt over the five small circles on Noah's thigh.
"Yeah. It was awhile ago." Before he'd stuffed enough clothes for a week and the $250 the Colonel kept for emergencies in his backpack. Before he'd taken a bus to DC and found himself desperate for food, shelter, human touch. "Years even."
"What about these?" Luke flicks his fingers across the body jewelry.
Noah whimpers. "When I was seventeen. I traded blowjobs with a friend who had just gotten his piercing license." He bites his lip against the pleasure reverberating from the push and pull of the barbell in each nipple.
"Body modification as business investment?" Luke palms Noah's chest, massages around the metal without direct pressure.
Noah shifts, ignores the throb in his cock. "No, Mr. Reporter." He coughs to cover the squeak he almost lets out. "No. Those were just for me. Not a lot of call for whores to get off. It's not really about my needs. This one," he sticks out his tongue. "This was a business investment. Couldn't give head for nearly a month, but the money since then? Totally worth it." He rolls the jewelry against his lips, watches Luke's slack-jawed lust. "Get that rubber on and I'll show you what this baby's good for. I've been told it's a whole new world." Noah reaches for Luke's hips.
"Wait, no." He grabs Noah's wrists. "I don't want you to blow me."
"You don't?" Noah knows he fails to hide the skepticism in his voice, vacillating between amused and insulted. Luke's cock tells a different story.
"Okay, shit. Yes, all right? Yes I do very much want you to blow me. I'd love it. But really, I want what I said in the first place. I want to fuck you. Hard. Now."
"How do you want me?"
"On your knees, I guess."
"You guess? Kid, make a decision. Lights? Want them on or off?"
"On."
"There, that wasn't so hard." Noah grins. He's into the rhythm now. None of that fake seduction shit Luke was trying to pull before. "You gonna prep me or should I? I would have done it earlier if I'd known it was going to be that kind of interview."
"I can. If you trust me?"
Noah frowned. "It's not about trust. it's about business. And maybe the fact that I'm licensed to carry concealed in several other states. I can't believe it hasn't passed here yet. I trust myself, kid, now let me turn over." He wiggles his legs free from the warm weight of Luke and rotates. He rests his head on his arms, spreads his legs enough for his client to fit between them. "I'm good," he murmurs as much to the pillow as to Luke.
"Not yet. But you will be."
Luke's fingers surprise Noah as they explore his back. He holds his breath at the touch to old scars, almost whimpers at the sensation of lips at his lower back.
"I like the tattoo." Wet heat traces the symbol. "Stand for something? Another investment?"
Noah fails to breath for a moment. "Yeah." He refuses to say more, refuses to say which.
"Fair enough." Luke presses his front against Noah. Reaching over him, his cock grazes the crease of Noah's ass.
"Hey! Lube! Condoms! Fuck, get off me!" He gets his knees up under him, but doesn't manage to buck the kid. "Get away from me."
"Whoa, easy. Easy. I'm getting a pillow is all. Here, lift up a little." Luke steadies his hand, pets across Noah's hip, down his outer thigh. "You're more skittish than the colts at the farm. Just wanted to make it easier. Helps if you aren't flat against the bed. Certainly more comfortable for you."
"I'm not a damned virgin." Noah can't help but laugh. "My comfort isn't high on my list of priorities." He adjusts the pillow, wedges it against his stomach, keeps his legs underneath him.
"Yeah, well. It should be. People are supposed to like their jobs at least a little bit, or, I don't know, find a new profession." He tears open the lube, held in his hand since he noted the brand. "Should be warm now." Luke hesitates.
Noah waits. Naked with his ass in the air isn't his favorite way to spend an evening. "Any time, kid."
"Quit it with the kid bit, will you?" Luke palms Noah's ass, startles a gasp from him by grazing his teeth over the firm flesh. "I'm not a kid. I told you. We're the same age. Now be quiet a moment and let me, I don't know, concentrate." He pauses, rubs his fingers against the pale skin in front of him. "Maybe you need a clearer reminder?" His teeth nip Noah's skin, nearer the crack, lathes his tongue over the red mark he leaves. "You're mine for now. I bought you until tomorrow."
"I told you no fuckin' marks. You wanna bite, you need to pay more. If I bruise, I can't work until it's gone." He waits. keeps his face toward the pillow and away from his client. Jesus, can we get on with the program already? "Gonna fuck me, Ace, or just crow about it? I'll give you back your money, no harm, no foul, and hit the streets if you can't get it up. Call the interview what it was - a way for you to meet me. We're all square now. You've met a whore. Consider your life goal fulfilled." Noah shimmies, teases Luke, cranes his head to try and see him. "We done here?"
*****
"No." Luke clutches his hands, strong from farm work, over Noah's fine china pale hips. "We are most certainly not done. You need the money. And I," he swallows. "God I want you. Just stuff your face into that pillow and get ready to scream." He growls, not a fucking kid, not someone's younger brother, someone's poor gay son. He's a goddamned senior in college, with a good job, and good prospects and why is he giving himself a self-help talk when there's all this skin and potential being offered up in front of him.
Luke can't help himself. He places the lube down on the nightstand so it doesn't squish everywhere. He watches the muscles of Noah's back shudder. "Don't worry, baby, I'm not that rough. Got a better idea." He figures that for enough warning, uses his thumbs to spread Noah wide enough to blow against his entrance. Luke's pulse increases. He leans in, swipes the flat of his tongue over the delicate skin. He groans, swipes his tongue again, tastes soap, and sin, and his own desire to make the man in front of him fall apart. "God." Another lick. He swirls his tongue. "Fuck," he whispers. None of his stupid boyfriends ever let him do this.
"Wha-" Noah swallows, tries to move away from the heat of Luke's hands and the wet of his mouth. "What? What are you doing?" Luke hears the whine in Noah's voice, wonders about the weakness. "Jesus."
Luke holds tighter, stops Noah moving. "Am I, umm, is it bad? Or not allowed or something? Because if you really don't know, I guess maybe I'm doing something wrong." He points his tongue, dips past strong muscle and into heat. He laughs at the moans he can ring from a man with more experience in a week than Luke has had in his entire life. He delves deeper, spreads Noah wider with hands, blows cool breath over damp skin. "Jesus, you're gorgeous everywhere"
"Yeah, well, it helps in this line of - nnngh"
Luke slides his legs behind and between Noah's, effectively cutting off his words. He moves one hand to the tattoo in the small of Noah's back and strokes down the inside of his thigh with the other. Luke's tongue maintains a steady lick, press routine. He's aware of his dick like he never has been. The heady power of being in charge - an act he rarely performed - sings in his blood. "God. Need to. Fuck" He pants against Noah's skin, watches the play of muscles as they shudder.
*****
Noah white knuckles his sheets. His spine is tight. His chest heaves. He will not whimper, will not beg. Fuck that. Some pretty boy wants to tongue his ass and pay him, so much the better. He screws his eyes shut, remember his job against the black of his eyelids. "That's it, Ace. Don't need much. Come on. Suit up and lube me." He can't say his normal line, can't say It's never been like this with anyone else. The sting of not lying burns at his throat. "I'm ready when you are." He rocks his hips back, gasps at the stubble against his skin. Noah needs this over now. He can taste salty blood and diet soda on his bite-bruised lips. Each swipe of hot, wet tongue creates false intimacy and draws more boiling need to his cock. "Jesus. Fuck me already." He pants, refuses to say it's never been like this, refuses to give anything but ass away. Noah releases the hand nearer the nightstand and grabs the packet Luke set down. He fumbles his arm back, but makes his point clear. He catches his breath, arches his back, wants a cigarette so fucking bad. Lost in his own denial, Noah moans aloud when two fingers are pressed deep inside.
"So tight. Noah. So amazing." Luke traces each knot of Noah's spine with his tongue. "Come on, baby. Want to hear you. Fuck. Want to make you cry out." His chest is flush with Noah's skin. His dick rides the small of his back, slicking pre-come over black ink. Luke reaches his other hand around to tug at the metal in Noah's nipples.
He barely hears the sigh of breath Noah expels. Luke's nerves are pulsing, vibrant against his skin, so he can't help but notice how Noah leans into the tug and thrusts back onto his fingers. Luke tugs at the piercings once again and adds a third finger simultaneously. Shit. He's not going to make it. He needs to know the sensation of Noah around him right the fuck now. "I'm so ready, baby, so ready. Wanted you to come first, but I can't." He slides hands away from Noah, struggles with the rubber and the lube and his own blinding need.
Luke lines his dick up with Noah's ass. He presses in harder and faster than he means to and forgets how to breathe all at once. He uses all his strength to pull Noah up. Luke's legs threaten to give and he's glad he's more or less kneeling. The shift of position drives him deeper into Noah.
Noah keeps his eyes closed barely. The safety of darkness wars with the stars he begins to see as Luke slides across his prostate. He leans back into the cage his client's arms. Older clients couldn't enjoy this, didn't want the contact of sweaty skin against skin. His cock drips pre-come. His inner thighs are over sensitive and he feels everything rub against him.
Hands cover his ribs, slide up his side, tease up to his nipples. Noah toys with his tongue stud to muffle any sound he wants to make. He allows his head to roll back, stretches his neck against Luke's shoulder, making sure to face away from his client. He lifts himself up and down, bends, squeezes, rocks, anything to speed Luke to climax. Noah's hands wrap behind their connected bodies. He clings to his client's back.
*****
Extra money be damned, Luke decides. He fists Noah's dick and turns to bite hard at the pale column of exposed skin. Luke speeds his thrusts and his hand, sucks punishing, branding marks. "I'll pay. I'll pay," he promises. "Just needed to it. Needed to, fuck, just needed to do it, Noah."
"Damn right you will." The thickness of Noah's words catch at the edge of Luke's brain.
"Shit. Did I? Did I hurt you?" His hand pauses. His hips stop moving.
"Only going to hurt me if you stop right now. Come on, Ace. Both of us were almost there." Noah lifts himself up and down. He pants. "Come on, come on, come on."
Luke can follow cues, especially when they lead to orgasms, and right now that's the goal. He twists his hand to gather more of the slick pre-come, tightens his hand a little more roughly. His hips snap up. God, feels so good, almost too good. "I'm almost there, baby, almost there. Just, oh god, fuck." His legs shake. His toes curl. He tips them forward, grateful that Noah catches on quick enough to brace them both. Luke can't help it, can't be soft, can't be gentle, just needs to go harder, faster, deeper, own. He growls, shifts his teeth to scrape against Noah's shoulder and bites again, sucking blood bruises to the surface of Noah's skin.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Noah swears into the pillow.
Luke's hand and hips stutter as he comes. He pushes himself through the aftershocks even as he continues to fist Noah. "Come for me, baby. You can do it. Let yourself go." He swipes his thumb over the slit, jacks Noah with new determination. "Now, baby, Noah, Noah, Noah," he whispers into Noah's back.
Noah's body shakes and then he is coming, just like Luke told him to do. "Oh god, oh god, oh god. So good. So good, Luke." Luke likes the sound of Noah's whispered words, likes the look of this gorgeous man flushed pink and fucked out, loves that Noah called his name.
"So beautiful, baby," Luke laps at Noah's neck, tastes sweat and sex. His dick twitches, but he knows that won't actually be happening any time soon. He's sleepy and fucked out himself. "Gonna pull out now. I'll be careful." He trails kisses down Noah's vertebrae while his hand clutches at the condom. His breath hitches, feeling lost without the intimate contact of being inside someone. He ties off the rubber.
"Trashcan on the left by the head of the bed." Noah tips his head to sort of nod at where he meant. Other than that, he doesn't move. Luke watches that his hands haven't released the sheets from where he braced their fall. His chest still moves quickly, but other than that Noah's not switching positions or looking at Luke or anything.
"Are you alright?" Luke isn't sure what to do, what he wants. He hadn't thought he would actually get up the courage to pay for services in the first place. He slides his body next to Noah's, curls around him. "That was amazing. You were amazing, Noah." He hates that he can't think of better words to explain what just happened. He tightens his grip around Noah's chest, pets his stomach, loves the feel of afterglow.
*****
Noah thinks maybe he's about to die. There's no other explanation for how empty he is, and still he wants to throw up the sum of his entire life's food intake. He shakes and can't stop enough to even tell Luke to not touch him. He's dizzy. "You have to go. You have to go now."
Muscles tighten around him pulling Noah closer into the warmth of Luke's skin. "What?"
Noah inhales. Salt burns in his eyes. "I'm not your fucking baby. I may be amazing, but that's because I'm a goddamn whore, kid. I've trained myself to be skilled, to take it up the ass and make men feel good about themselves." He struggles free, rolls onto his stomach, will not make eye contact. "My normal fee is $200 for anal at this time of year. You marked me up, but we'll call it even. Take $300 back and get the hell out of here." He clutches the pillow, wraps himself around it.
There is no movement behind him. The bed remains still.
"Didn't you hear me the first time? I said to leave. Tricks don't get to stay the night unless I say so and unless they buy the room. This isn't the fucking Lakeview and you didn't pay. Take your money, hell, take the whole fucking bankroll and get out of here" The harsh words rip at his throat, stings his lungs. He manages to choke it out and then can't stop. "Go. Go. Go."
Noah hears Luke stumble off the bed. "I don't understand? What just happened? Noah?" He throws on his jeans and t-shirt with no clean up. Luke kneels in front of Noah's face, tentatively drops a hand to Noah's bare shoulder. "How did I screw this up? Explain it to me?"
Noah shoves his palms against his eyes. His voice, hell everything, is broken. "There's nothing to explain. You sat down for coffee at Yo's. I thought, I don't know, I thought maybe you were interested." He swallows the hot taste of bile. "And instead, it turns out you know who I am, what I do, and now." He can't continue this conversation. "Now you need to get the fuck out of here so I can vomit and take a shower and maybe puke again. So thanks, kid, for a spectacular orgasm. Take your money and get the fuck out."
Noah peaks through his fingers, watches Luke stand up, hears him whisper, "This isn't over" as he makes his way to the door.
He hears the snick of the door before he rolls over to heave violently into the trashcan, covering the used condom and lube package, wiping out all signs that something had happened. "Wanna bet?" It's so over. Noah forces himself out of bed and heads to his bathroom. Inside he scours the scent of Luke off of him and contemplates where he'll find a new street corner until the end of the month when his lease runs up.
The Next Part