FIC: Star Trek RPS -- Paid For
Title: Paid For
Author:
the_deep_magic
Pairing: Zach/OMC
Rating: R
Warnings: prostitution, a bit of angst
Word Count: 409
Prompt: Zach/rentboy + lyrics from "Rich" by The Yeah Yeah Yeahs
A/N: This is very different from what I usually write. Originally posted over at the Poor Man's Sinfest V. 4
It’s ironic, really: he only starts paying for it after he knows he could pretty much get it anywhere for free.
Not like he couldn’t walk into any gay bar - and most straight bars - and pick out the guy with the broadest shoulders, the most pornographic mouth, the bluest eyes and have him on his knees in a bathroom stall in under ten minutes, naked and writhing beneath him in thirty. Not like he hasn’t done just that more than a few times, though he certainly won’t brag about it. Some stories aren’t for the telling.
But it’s the money that gets him off. Zach never had to suck cock to pay the rent, but he came damn close. Seriously considered it a time or two, when a little back alley work seemed preferable to putting up with one more muttered fucking faggot from the night manager at the restaurant. He remembers the choice between buying gas to drive to an audition and buying food.
The ones he pays for, he doesn’t know if they’re struggling actors, if they aspire to anything greater - and he doesn’t much care.
They’ll say anything they think you want to hear, so Zach usually makes silence a rule up front. They forget later, when he’s making them come (and make no mistake, they will come), but he hates starting off with simpering platitudes like “You’re so hot” or “Ooh, baby, your dick is so huge.” Not that it isn’t true, but he’s sick of hearing it from starfuckers who think they’re stroking his ego. And if he’s paying, Zach gets exactly what he wants.
What he wants tonight is to fuck someone good and rough and not be thanked for the privilege. The guy is nicely built - long and lean and almost as tall as Zach is. His face… well, that’s what’s great about doggy style. He’s got good hair, though, soft and thick and just barely long enough for Zach to thread his fingers through it and jerk the guy’s head back in an unmistakable gesture of “You’re mine - I paid for you.” He makes sure the guy gets off first, one strong, pale hand wrapped around his dick - Zach takes care of what’s his.
He never says a name when he comes. Not out loud.
Afterwards, he folds the stack of bills - four times the normal rate, just because he can - places them on the table, and leaves without a word.
Author:
the_deep_magic
Pairing: Zach/OMC
Rating: R
Warnings: prostitution, a bit of angst
Word Count: 409
Prompt: Zach/rentboy + lyrics from "Rich" by The Yeah Yeah Yeahs
A/N: This is very different from what I usually write. Originally posted over at the Poor Man's Sinfest V. 4
It’s ironic, really: he only starts paying for it after he knows he could pretty much get it anywhere for free.
Not like he couldn’t walk into any gay bar - and most straight bars - and pick out the guy with the broadest shoulders, the most pornographic mouth, the bluest eyes and have him on his knees in a bathroom stall in under ten minutes, naked and writhing beneath him in thirty. Not like he hasn’t done just that more than a few times, though he certainly won’t brag about it. Some stories aren’t for the telling.
But it’s the money that gets him off. Zach never had to suck cock to pay the rent, but he came damn close. Seriously considered it a time or two, when a little back alley work seemed preferable to putting up with one more muttered fucking faggot from the night manager at the restaurant. He remembers the choice between buying gas to drive to an audition and buying food.
The ones he pays for, he doesn’t know if they’re struggling actors, if they aspire to anything greater - and he doesn’t much care.
They’ll say anything they think you want to hear, so Zach usually makes silence a rule up front. They forget later, when he’s making them come (and make no mistake, they will come), but he hates starting off with simpering platitudes like “You’re so hot” or “Ooh, baby, your dick is so huge.” Not that it isn’t true, but he’s sick of hearing it from starfuckers who think they’re stroking his ego. And if he’s paying, Zach gets exactly what he wants.
What he wants tonight is to fuck someone good and rough and not be thanked for the privilege. The guy is nicely built - long and lean and almost as tall as Zach is. His face… well, that’s what’s great about doggy style. He’s got good hair, though, soft and thick and just barely long enough for Zach to thread his fingers through it and jerk the guy’s head back in an unmistakable gesture of “You’re mine - I paid for you.” He makes sure the guy gets off first, one strong, pale hand wrapped around his dick - Zach takes care of what’s his.
He never says a name when he comes. Not out loud.
Afterwards, he folds the stack of bills - four times the normal rate, just because he can - places them on the table, and leaves without a word.