Portraits of the Free Life (2/7)

[silentpoetry1]

Title: Portraits of the Free Life
Author: silentpoetry1
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Jared/Jensen (Jensen/OMCs, Jared/OMCs)
Summary: Jared is a cynical streetwhore who's been living in the underbelly of the city for two years while he saves up to go to college. He's a prominent figure on the streets where most people know not to mess with him. But when some new, naive guy who doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing starts hanging around on Jared's turf there's going to be trouble.
Disclaimer: Fiction. Everything within this story never happened and is entirely untrue.
Overall warnings: prostitution, violence, angst, abuse, offensive language.
Author's Notes: Thank you so much to tygers for the beta. I'm so glad to finally get one of my fics out of my head! It's really freed up my thinking space, kind of. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy Portraits. I am really enjoying writing it.



Chapter one



by apieceofcake

Jared and Chad sat together, their legs crossed and cigarettes in their hands. Chad coughed a little beside him, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Jared looked at him, following his gaze to that Pretty Boy that had been hanging around a lot lately. He was leaning up against the fence enclosing the small park across the road. “Looks who’s back,” muttered Chad, but he didn’t sound particularly bothered.

Jared kept his eyes on the kid, and Chad was right - they could make a lot of money off him. His beauty radiated across the street easily, like a house covered in fairy lights at Christmas. Somehow even his flaws, like his bowlegs, just added to the bright display. Jared huffed, annoyed. “Okay, whatever, Chad,” he said, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“Hm?” said Chad.

“We’ll fucking...” look after him? Find more people to hurt him? Take advantage of him? “we’ll make some money off him.”

Chad grinned, dousing the remainder of his cigarette. “Fuckin’ A,” he said.

“But we ain’t sharing our money with Morgan, okay?”

Chad licked his lips and lowered his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, Jared.”

“Okay. C’mon.” Jared stood up, his cigarette held between his index finger and his middle finger.

He crossed the road slowly, Chad following closely behind. Pretty Boy watched them as they approached - not warily, not worriedly, but with naked eyes. It made Jared feel a little sick to the stomach. “Hello,” said Pretty when Jared stopped in front of him. “I’m not on your turf... I’m not on your street corner.”

Jared resisted the urge to roll his eyes - his turf covered a lot more than the street corner. But, hey, Jared wanted Pretty to spread his legs for him, so now wasn’t really the time to sound like a dick. “I know,” said Jared, “I have a question to ask you.”

Pretty looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Okay. What is it?”

Jared glanced back at Chad before looking back down at Pretty. “You aren’t very streetsmart - in fact, from what I’ve seen you’re totally fucking hopeless.”

Pretty glared at him. “Oh, yeah? Screw you.”

Jared held up his hands. “Hey, hey - I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just sayin’ you’re hopeless and I can help you out.”

Pretty raised a cynical, shaped eyebrow. “Why d’you wanna help me out now?”

Jared shrugged, getting annoyed. He didn’t have to freaking explain himself. “Look, I’m not as heartless as I might look - I’ll give ya some of my turf and I’ll get you some more tricks.”

Pretty pursed his beautiful lips. “How much would I have to pay you?”

Jared wasn’t going to lie. “Fifty percent.”

Pretty considered it for a few moments. “Um, okay,” he said.

Jared raised his eyebrows. “Okay, then. What’s your name?”

“Jensen... what’s yours?”

Jared had never heard the name ‘Jensen’ before. He decided it was probably fake, but didn’t call ‘Jensen’ up on it. “I’m Jared.”

“Cool. Nice to meet you, Jared.”

“Yeah, you too,” said Jared.

“I’m Chad,” said Chad, stepping up beside Jared.

Jensen looked only slightly uncomfortable. “Hi.”

“Hey, Jared, I’ll stay with Tom for a while,” said Chad, stepping back.

Jared gave him a look. He didn’t want to be alone with Jensen, no matter how good-looking the guy may be - Jared just didn’t get along well with people. “Why?”

“Just while you show Jensen the ropes... he’ll get some more johns that way, too.”

Jared closed his eyes for a moment and took in a soothing mouthful of smoke. “Alright, fine.”

“Okay,” said Chad, “I’ll come find you when I’m back.”

Jared nodded, watching Chad take off. Jensen cleared his throat a little. “Um... I don’t have anywhere to stay, can I stay with you? Please?”

Jensen’s eyes were wide and hopeful and Jared sighed. He was taking a fifty percent cut. “Yeah,” said Jared, “but it ain’t no luxury unit.”

“I don’t care,” said Jensen.

Jared shrugged. “Well, c’mon, then. I’ll show you where it is since you’re gonna have to be making your own way back tonight.”

Jensen nodded as he pushed himself off the fence and stepped up beside Jared. Jared noticed that Jensen was struggling to keep his strides in time with his. “Where you from?” asked Jared, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. He asked more out of courtesy than genuine interest, or so he told himself.

“Texas, like you,” said Jensen sullenly.

Jared raised an eyebrow. “How the hell’d you know I was from Texas?”

“Your accent.”

“Ah.”

The sun was hot, searing down onto them as they walked. Jared was aware of the sun burning his own back through his shirt, as well as Jensen’s. There were girls and boys out on the street, watching Jensen and Jared keenly as they passed. Jared glared at them each time they looked, and they averted their eyes. Once again, Jared was shocked by the stark blatancy with which Jensen looked at him. People out here - whores and tricks alike - their eyes are guarded oh so carefully twenty-four/seven.

Jared couldn’t help but be a little impressed when Jensen didn’t point out that staying with Jared meant kipping in the centre of a park in a small clearing amongst the bushes. Jared sat down, crossing his legs. Jensen copied his movements, sitting a little too close to Jared. “I met your friend earlier - Tom, I mean,” proclaimed Jensen.

Jared snorted. “That guy... he’s more territorial than me.” Jensen looked contemplative for a few moments, and Jared snapped back into himself; becoming a lot more businesslike in a matter of seconds. He needed to sell Jensen, and in order to do that he needed to know a little about him - his strengths and weaknesses - he needed to know if Jensen was abused by his dear old dad in case some john had a ‘daddy’ kink, that sort of thing. “Okay, what’s your sob story?”

Jensen looked at him with his expressive green eyes. “Huh?”

Jared clicked his tongue. “Everyone has a sad story.”

Jensen considered this for a few moments, before he challenged Jared. “You tell me yours first.”

One side of Jared’s mouth quirked up and he huffed out a silent laugh. “Not much to say - m’dad left when I was a kid - never knew him. He wasn’t a bad guy I suppose... always paid his child support. He’s married again. Lives with some new kids and a wife on the coast now - and my mom got sent to jail for drug possession. So I just packed up and left.”

Jensen was silent for a few moments, taking in what Jared told him. “Strength plus beauty equals pain,” he acknowledged.

Jared shrugged slightly, uncomforted. “Tell me yours now.”

Jensen grinned, memories Jared couldn’t see running in front of his eyes. “Well, I wanted to be an actor... I guess it stemmed from all that time I spent wishing I wasn’t me. I’d... my dad was a dick, but he had a good taste in movies, and sometimes I’d curl up on the couch and just watch them I wish I could be like that - be able to become someone else. I don’t want to be me.”

Jared shook his head. “You won’t get anywhere thinkin’ that, and for me to sell you I need you to be you, got it?”

Jensen looked at him for a few moments before he nodded, resigned. “Yeah. I got it.” Jared nodded and contemplated pulling out another cigarette. “When did you decide to become a prostitute?”

Jared laughed at the ridiculous question. “What the fuck? I didn’t just decide to become a prostitute - dude, I didn’t just wake up one morning and think hey, maybe I’ll let some guy fuck me so I can earn some money and maybe get into college in the future. Jesus Christ.”

Jensen blushed. “I...”

Jared waved his hand. “Forget it. Everyone’s a prostitute, man; we don’t need to become one. We all want what makes us us bought.”

“I guess,” said Jensen, playing with his fingernails. Jared knew he was listening to him intently, though.

“Yeah. Well, this is where you gotta come back to when you’re done. We’ll meet here... probably sleep here depending on how late it is. Speaking of, you don’t have anything you won’t do, do you?”

“Er... the scat and watersports?” asked Jensen meekly.

“Anything else?”

Jared watched Jensen consider it for a few moments before shaking his head. “No.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Like I was saying earlier you sure as hell ain’t streetsmart -”

“I -”

“No, fuckin’ listen to me before you interrupt. Chad’s seen ya hanging around in some bad places - near the bridge. To give it to ya straight, you’ve gotta be really aware that you can be knifed in the stomach without a second thought.” Jared paused to see how his words were affecting Jensen. Jensen was paler - his breathing a little heavier, but otherwise he looked fine. He put on a brave face and nodded at Jared. “I mean, dude - you could get a bunch of STDs, someone could force you into something you don’t wanna do, you could be beaten up and left for dead... really, I guess you just gotta trust what I tell ya and who I give ya.” Jensen nodded slowly. “Seriously, I know I might seem untrustworthy, but I’ve been where you are before, and I’ll do my best to make sure you stay as safe as you can be on the streets.”

“Yeah... okay. I understand.”

“Alright. Well, c’mon - let’s get going.”

“Hey, um, Jared?”

“What?”

“Thanks.”

Jared hummed a little and tried not to feel too guilty for demanding a fifty-fifty cut of Jensen’s earnings.

-

Casually, casually - Jared had said that Kyle liked it casual and easy and ‘don’t worry he’s as safe as anyone can really be’. Jensen panted as Kyle pulled out of him, collapsing beside him on the bed. Jensen lay there for a few moments, trying to forget the feel of someone he didn’t know pressed up against him, inside him, and regain his breath.

“Money’s in my wallet on the table near the door,” said Kyle. Jensen understood it as his dismissal.

He stood up a little painfully and walked over to the table, taking what was his and what would add up to three hundred dollars cash along with his other money. It was a warm night outside, but dark. There were only a few streetlights in this area and half of them were having too much fun flashing on and off to be of much use. Jensen shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling a thrill of relief when he touched his money and a pack of cigarettes he’d been given, and began walking in the direction of the park. He fought the urge to go searching for Jared, and tried to be content in the knowledge that Jared would meet him later.

In the tiny clearing - more like a grassy space, really, Jensen propped himself up against a tree, letting his eyes and ears adjust to the quiet and darkness of the park. He played around with his cigarettes for awhile, wishing he had a lighter or something. He’d never tried one before but he’d seen so many people using them. Jensen wanted to be authentic, wanted to do his best to not be himself. He jumped when he heard someone brushing through the bushes.

“Jared,” Jensen stated in relief.

“Yeah,” grunted Jared, easing himself down beside Jensen and giving him a quick look. Jensen looked away, feeling uncomfortable under Jared’s gaze, and picked up his pack of cigarettes again. He made a noise of protest when they were snatched away from him. Jared chuckled and tore open the box. “You don’t wanna get addicted - this shit’ll kill ya,” he said, before taking out his lighter and lighting one - taking a long drag and letting the smoky breath tumble out of his mouth.

Jensen looked away, rifling through his pockets before giving Jared a hundred and fifty dollars. “Here,” said Jensen, “your half.”

Jared looked a tiny bit guilty, but took the money nevertheless. Jensen shoved what he had left into his fraying pocket. He watched Jared as he breathed in the stark smoke, taking in his image in a similar way. Taking it. Savouring it. Before he spat it out. “Jared? What happened to you? Are you okay?”

Jared glanced at him, his eyebrows raised. “What? I’m fine.”

Jensen moved closer, skittish, and put a hand on Jared’s shoulder, urging the boy to face him. The skin on his cheekbone was broken and dried with blood, and he was holding his left leg at an awkward angle, as though it hurt. He looked exhausted. “What happened?” asked Jensen worriedly, putting his other hand on Jared’s chest. Jared’s head snapped up and he grabbed both Jensen’s wrists tightly in his hands. Jensen swallowed and looked into his slanted eyes.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, tightening his hold on Jensen’s wrists. Jensen could feel his tendons rubbing together painfully.

“O - okay,” breathed Jensen, not breaking eye contact.

Jared looked down once Jensen spoke, releasing him when he saw what he was doing. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Jensen sat back shakily. “It’s... I... do you wanna get a motel room tonight? Nothing - nothing fancy, but just somewhere soft?” Jensen hadn’t been out on the street for very long, that was true, and he could totally put up with a little ground if he had to sleep on it, but Jared was hurt. And if he was honest, it was really cold and it didn’t look like Jared had any blankets.

Jared sighed and scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms. “No. I’m not gonna waste money on a lousy motel room.”

“I’ll pay for it... it’s okay.”

Jared pulled his hands away from his face and eyed him. Calculating him. Jensen looked down. “Okay,” sighed Jared.

Jensen furrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said bitterly, eyes fixed on the ground.

“I never do things I don’t want to do.”

Jensen pressed his lips together, eyeing Jared. “Okay.” Jared turned away and gathered up his things, not speaking. “I’m glad I’m actually getting money,” said Jensen conversationally, shivers running down his spine as he stood up, the bushes not high enough to protect him from the cold air.

Jared stood up as well, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“First time I ever did... this I didn’t get the money,” sighed Jensen, keeping close to Jared as they left their little clearing. Jared’s walk stiffened, but he made a funny little move as though he was going to put his arm around Jensen’s shoulders, but decided not to.

“When are you getting them to pay you?” asked Jared seriously.

“When we’re... you know... done.”

Jared let out a sigh. “Get them to pay you before, alright? If they refuse, then they probably weren’t gonna to begin with.”

Jensen hit himself on the head. “I’m an idiot,” he sighed.

“No, you’re just... inexperienced.”

Jensen looked away and didn’t reply, but stayed close to Jared’s side. There were few lights and fast cars on the roads leading them away from the park. The girls and boys and boys-as-girls were out on the streets as usual, clothes skimpy like Jensen’s. Jensen shivered a little and watched everyone with his vibrant eyes while he walked with Jared. The underbelly of the city, burnt and bleak and situated right next to the heartless city centre, did not appreciate seeing eyes. Jensen knew that already. Every street-whore had hooded eyes and come hither smiles that only affected the muscles around their lips. Jensen didn’t know how to be like that. Wasn’t sure he wanted to.

It was funny, though. When they passed the City Hall the boys and girls practically disappeared. Skyscrapers and apartment buildings appeared suddenly. It was really kind of overwhelming, that cityscape of blurry lights. Jensen swallowed and turned down a backstreet so that he couldn’t see their promises anymore, and almost ran into Jared.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” asked Jared wearily.

“Not really,” said Jensen, catching Jared’s sceptical look. “Okay. Not at all.”

Jared rolled his eyes. “Well, I say we go back - away from the city and the expensive motels, and I’ll take you to the one I go sometimes. Okay?”

Jensen’s face burned. “Alright,” he said, letting Jared take charge.

Jared led him back into the underbelly. It was different - entering, very different to leaving. Jensen didn’t know why, but it probably had something to do with the amount of lust in the air. When you were entering, you were downwind of the false aromas. Jensen couldn’t help but feel like a hyena meandering through a pack of lions. Filthy scavengers. Jensen was thrown from his thoughts when Jared grabbed his arm and pulled him into an alleyway. “Hey - what -” Jared shoved his large hand over Jensen’s mouth.

Jensen’s eyes darted around wildly before he saw who Jared was hiding them from. Four boys were running down the street, eyes fierce and heads craning around. They stopped to yell at some whores across the street in hoarse voices before they took off down a side alley. Jared waited a few moments before relaxing and taking his hand away from Jensen’s mouth. “What the hell was that?” demanded Jensen.

“Street gangs,” Jared said simply, stepping out of the alley and continuing on.

“Street gangs,” repeated Jensen, following quickly after Jared. “What do you mean ‘street gangs’?”

“What the fuck do you think I mean?” snapped Jared.

Jensen inclined his head. “I just... how many are there?”

“’Few. One, maybe, from the suburbs, but pretty much all of them are from the city.”

“What are they fighting for?”

“Same thing everyone around here fights for - turf.”

“Oh,” said Jensen quietly. “Are they... dangerous?”

“I’ll look out for you.”

“... Thank you.” But he still felt a shiver run down his spine.

Jensen and Jared got a few looks - some hungry, some curious, some hooded - as Jared led them to the hotel. It wasn’t much; a two-storey building with fraying walls, a dangerous-looking safety railing and numbered doors. “C’mon, bigshot, you’re paying,” Jared reminded, pushing Jensen into the dingy reception, but following closely behind. A thin, tattooed guy looked up from behind the counter.

“Um, hi,” said Jensen, “do you have any, er, spare rooms?”

“Just one,” he said, eyeing the pair of them. “Only a double bed.”

Jensen glanced back at Jared uneasily. Jared was pulling out a cigarette and looked supremely unconcerned. “Uh, yeah. I’ll take it.”

“Fifty dollars.”

Jensen handed the guy the money, and he handed Jensen a key. “Room nine,” he said.

Jared led Jensen down the hall, past the counter. “What room was it?” he asked, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“Nine. Uh, it’s on the bottom floor, I think,” said Jensen, following Jared past the closed doors. Their room was at the end of the bottom floor. Jensen unlocked the door shakily and peered inside, walking in once he deemed the room clear. It was cold inside - the heater a battered appliance in the corner of the room - the wallpaper was tearing off of the walls, and the carpet was stained.

“Cold,” commented Jared, walking over to the bed and dumping his backpack beside it. “I’ll just be a sec,” he said, disappearing into the bathroom. Jensen heard water run for a few moments before Jared returned with a clean, bloodless face.

“So, um, yeah,” said Jensen, turning around to face Jared who was making himself comfortable on the bed. Oh - yeah, Jared was hurt; it made sense for him to have the bed. “Um, could you toss me a pillow?”

Jared glanced over at him. “Why?”

“So I can... sleep?”

“You aren’t sleeping on the bed?”

“I...”

Jared chuckled. “Don’t worry I won’t try anything, I swear.”

Jensen blushed a little. “No, it’s just that -”

“We sleep with men for a living, Jensen. Sharing a bed ain’t gonna kill us, or whatever you have in mind.”

Jensen considered it for a second. “Yeah,” he said, stepping over to the bed. He stripped down to his underwear slowly.

Jared snorted. “We’ve already decided we’re sharing a bed, you don’t need to seduce me,” he commented cheekily. When Jensen looked up he saw that Jared was watching his unintentional striptease with a raised eyebrow.

“Shut up,” said Jensen without heat, climbing gingerly onto the bed.

He lay on his back, body straight. Jared stretched out beside him, rolling onto his side, his eyes on Jensen. “How long have ya been on the streets - before you met me?”

Jensen shrugged, staring at the cracked ceiling. “Not very long... what about you?”

“A year or two. Nearly got enough cash to get outta here and go to college. I can’t fuckin’ wait.”

Jensen’s rubbed his forehead. That was a very long time. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” confessed Jensen quietly. “I just... I. I might save up some money to travel west.”

“Mmm. That’s right. You’re right.”

“Huh?”

“You’re right. Don’t get so hung up on the future.”

“Yeah...” said Jensen, sliding under the covers and pulling them onto his shoulders. He rolled onto his side, facing away from Jared. “Well, good night.”

“Night.”

Jensen forced himself to remain still, ignoring the desire to roll onto his other side.

-

Jared woke up slowly, groggily with the bed covers sprawled messily at his feet. He was disorientated for a few moments, unsure as to why he was laying in a warm bed with someone cuddled up against his chest. Jared pulled back and Jensen’s head fell against the mattress with a small thump. Jared eyed him in agitation and amusement, surprised when the boy flipped onto his back and kept sleeping.

The sun wept through the blinds, lining Jensen’s relaxed face with light and shadow. Jared sighed and flopped back onto the bed. Most of his skin dry and smooth due to the cold, but his chest was warm where Jensen had been pressed up against him. Jared turned his head so he was facing the wall and gazed down at the ground. He could see last night’s cigarettes put out on the floor. He closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep. His mind, however, was being loud and overbearing. Knock knock knockin’ on his skull.

Jared rolled back onto his other side to face Jensen, surprised to find him awake. “Hi,” sighed Jensen, arching his back while he stretched. Jared’s mouth felt dry, but that could’ve just been because he’d been breathing through it all night.

“Mornin’,” said Jared, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling and not Jensen’s mouth.

“I’m so tired.”

“Mm.”

Jared heard Jensen sigh and shuffle, before the mattress moved when he stood up. Jared rolled over to watch him. “M’just gonna take a shower,” said Jensen.

“You shouldn’t cuddle up to boys you don’t know,” commented Jared when Jensen turned around. Jared saw Jensen stiffen.

Jared expected Jensen to mention how he does much more to men he doesn’t know, but instead it’s, “I... sorry.”

When Jared didn’t say anything Jensen became less tense and stepped forward into the bathroom. “Is Jensen your real name?” asked Jared as Jensen was closing the bathroom door.

“Of course,” said Jensen with furrowed eyebrows before the door clicked shut.

“Fucking naivety,” sighed Jared, pressing his face into the pillow.

Jensen stepped out of the shower shyly some time later, Jared wasn’t keeping count. He had a grimy motel towel wrapped securely around his waist. Beads of water still glistened on his chest. Jensen gave him a self-conscious look when he leaned over and picked up some fresh clothes from his small bag. Jared looked away, feeling a little sleazy.

“Are you going to have a shower?” asked Jensen, sitting on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath him.

“No. I got somewhere I gotta go, I’ll get a shower there.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“What am I going to do?” asked Jensen, turning his head around and looking at Jared with wide, questioning eyes.

"Fuck, I don't know. What did you do during the day before you met me?"

Jensen shrugged, thinking of those few dismal days. "Just wandered around."

"Well, there you have it. Just wander around."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to a place where you won't be very well-received," said Jared irritably, rolling off the bed.

"Oh," sighed Jensen. "Well... when will I see you?"

"Later."

"Um..."

"I don't know. Six o'clock, maybe? Who the hell is punctual 'round here, anyway? I'll see you when I see you. Go to my street corner at sundown. Don't hang out near any alleyways. Don't listen if people say stuff to you. If there's a fight, leave. Got it?"

Jensen sighed, playing with the crumpled bedspread. "Yeah, Jared. I got it."

"Good," Jared leaned down and picked up his backpack. When he looked back at Jensen, his gaze was softer -- tender, even. "I'll see you at six."

"Yeah... see you," said Jensen, watching as Jared walked around the bed to the door. He opened it, but paused for a few moments.

"Hey, Jensen?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for... you know. Thanks."

Jensen smiled softly. "It's okay."

Jared left, shutting the door behind him, and Jensen let the smile fall from his face. He didn't know what he was going to do while Jared was gone. He supposed he could always go and visit home, a few towns over... the small house in the centre of the suburbs. The angsty suburbia surrounding the city, with pale tarmac roads, a landscape yellowed by the sun, kids playing basketball, and loud post-hardcore garage music.

No. He couldn't go home.

Jensen sighed and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. He replayed his and Jared's conversation from last night in his head. It was true when he said he hadn't been on the streets very long. Very, very true. He remembered the last time his father slammed his fist against him, the messenger bag he crammed with some clothes, the yells in the street. The laughs of the children in the street followed him all the way to the city. Boy, that was one long walk.

Jensen rubbed his eyes and checked the clock on the bedside table. 9: 13 it proclaimed. Jensen sighed and stood. There wasn't really much point hanging around in the dingy motel room. Maybe he could go down the river, waste some money on an ice cream and some arcade games.

Jensen returned the key, ignoring the old man's leer, and left quickly, his fraying sneakers hitting the wet ground rhythmically. If it had rained last night, Jensen hadn't heard it over Jared's heavy breathing. The streets were dark, naked and empty, except for a few blind buskers. It made shivers run down Jensen's spine. It was never too wet or too early to come fuck around in the underbelly. It’s a slut for everyone, just like its inhabitants.

He could hear some rustling in the alleyways, but he obeyed Jared and stayed away from them, no matter how curious he was.

So, he kept his wide eyes to himself, watching his feet as he walked. Jensen jumped when a shiny pair of black leather shoes entered his vision. He looked up to see three men grinning at him. The middle one was rather handsome, well-fed, and he didn’t have the blank eyes of a junkie or the hooded eyes of a whore or the nervous, anticipating eyes of a john. Jensen was afraid. There was no reason for this stranger to be here in this part of town, obstructing his path. “Um,” said Jensen when he went to step around the men.

“Hello.”

“Uh, hi. Excuse me -”

“My name’s Jeff, but everyone calls me Morgan, and this is Nick and Scott,” he gestured at the two tough-looking guys behind him.

Jensen looked up at Morgan. The name sounded kind of familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “Uh... Jensen - I -”

“I know who you are, and I have a proposition for you.”

Jensen furrowed his eyebrows, pausing for a moment. “What sort of... proposition?”

“You come work for me and I’ll give ya a room to stay in and protection.”

Jensen bit his lip. “I... uh, no thanks. I’m staying... with someone. Excuse me -”

Morgan’s pleasant demeanour evaporated. “Look, kid, I’m in control of most parts of the under-city. You cross me and you’re in trouble.”

Jensen swallowed, wishing desperately that Jared was there. “I’m not... crossing you. I just want to get past...”

“Hmm. You’re with that big Jared kid, ain’t ya?” Jeff looked back at the two men. “He has a nice set-up over on St. London street. Wonder what’d happen if we got there before him today.”

Jensen’s eyebrows creased. “He didn’t do anything to you,” he protested, “and he’d just. He’d get you, he wouldn’t let you.”

Morgan laughed. “Is that what you think? Listen here, kiddo - turf is the currency of the realm ‘round these parts. Streeties like me beat assholes up - people from other territories - and what was theirs is yours. But then you got a reputation to keep. You get in a fight, you win the fight, you own their turf, and you get more money from the whores ‘cause they respect that you can take what’s theirs away. And I own most of these parts, so I must be a pretty good fighter, huh? Your Jared wouldn’t stand a chance.”

That wasn’t fair. Jared wanted to go to college. He was saving up money so he could get out of here. “Why do you want me?”

“’Cause you’re pretty, boy. You’d make a shitload of cash.”

“I...”

“You what? You come with me or I take Jared’s turf away.”

Jensen bit his lip, thoughts running through his head. He didn’t want to be selfish; no matter how hard he tried he wasn’t a streetie. He didn’t want to betray Jared, not when Jared had been the first to be kind to him, the first to see past the dirt on his skin, under his skin. The dirt that contaminated his veins and infected his blue and red (and sometimes purple under his skin in the right light) blood. “Once,” said Jensen. “If I do it today will you leave Jared alone?”

“If you do it today... then I’ll leave Jared alone for three days.”

Jensen sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Okay,” he said.

“Come on,” said Morgan.

The lions were meek with ground-down teeth as they gazed at Jensen walking just behind Morgan and his men. Jensen kept his eyes on the pavement, making sure he skipped over each crack in the pavement. They didn’t have to walk for very long. Jensen looked up when the footsteps stopped. A huge building with blacked out windows stood before him, foreboding and unalive. It was a palm tree in the forest. A skeleton amongst fleshed bodies. It was natural, yet out of place.

Jensen jumped when someone touched him between his shoulder blades. “My place,” smiled Morgan.

Jensen didn’t reply, just followed. It was worse inside. It was filled with dingy rooms, and fluorescent blinking lights, and it reeked of sex and sweat. Jensen bit his lip so hard that he could taste blood. It hurt.

“C’mon, boy,” said Morgan, grabbing at Jensen’s arm. Jensen pulled his arm back, but followed him.

Morgan led him through the wreck - aesthetic in its misery - down the winding hallway and into some room that didn’t have shrieks echoing from behind closed doors. The room looked like it was once maybe an office. Dilapidated posters promoting synergy lay on the floor, partially hidden by a queen size mattress in the middle.

“Stay here. Someone’ll be here shortly. You be good or I’ll get that Jared kid and then you. Don’t think I won’t.”

Jensen watched blankly, anxiously, as Morgan left the room.. The door shut with a click. And Jensen suddenly had a strange desire to be away, to be some straightedge groupie for an obscure band. Instead, he’s Jensen-the-shy-yet-dirty-mouthed-whore, though to keep Jared’s turf safe he was willing to be anyone anytime anywhere. Jared was kind when no one else was; Jensen needed to pay him back somehow. This was how.

So, when some guy stepped into the room with dusty black boots and bitter brown eyes, Jensen gave him an alluring smile. “Hello.”

“Hey.”

“My name’s Jensen. What’s yours?”

The guy paused. “Damien.”

Jensen smiled again and beckoned him over. “What do you want to do?”

Damien grinned back. That’s when Jensen felt his own grin freeze. “You.” He stepped over to Jensen, sitting down beside him heavily, his eyes hungry as they took in Jensen’s appearance. Jensen stayed still, letting the john decide what he wanted to do with him. Eventually Damien twisted around, gripping Jensen’s waist tightly with large calloused hands. He clashed their lips together angrily, plunging his tongue into Jensen’s obedient mouth.

Jensen tried to detach himself from what was going on as he was rolled onto his stomach. His immediate reaction was to spread his legs wider.

Jensen was finally able to hide in his mind and submit later, when the guy thrust into him. He stared at the green sheet covering the mattress, his head forced onto its side, while Damien slapped and bit at him. Jensen imagined some empty fields in the middle of nowhere.

He always did have an unhealthy fascination with being free.

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