this is filed under: series: never to be written hooker AU
Three pieces belonging to the Never-to-be-actually-written-hooker-AU-where-everyone-I-love-and-then-some-are-underage-hookers-under-the-watchful-eye-of-Guti. All of the pieces are PG-13, the last one might be R for swearing.
It's the same verse as this one.
One: drabble; written for writerverse and the prompt 'All the world's a stage'.
Sergio 'Candyboy' Canales gives some basic instruction to the newest addition to the group, Esteban.
Despite knowing better, Esteban couldn’t help but stare at the younger boy incredulously.
“You want me to do … what?”
The blonde one only sighed, tiredly so.
“All the world’s a stage and all that jazz, you understand?” he then shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, of course they do know what we are. And they know that we know what they are. … But most of them love to pretend that they’d rather not know what’s going on at all. And if that’s what they wish for … well, you better make damn sure that it’s what they’re getting, as well.”
Two: ficlet, written for my footballverse prompt table, prompt 26: tell me your name
Flashback showing how Guti discovers Fernando 'Golden Boy' Torres, runaway lost and found.
Guti let his eyes wander, casting an attentive glance at every one of the boys, scanning them briefly and quickly from head to toe. He was pleased with what he saw, satisfied with the potential he could already see in them. All of them were young and even though they differed greatly in their looks, all of them were at least acceptable if not handsome. Letting his eyes wander further, suddenly Guti saw a boy standing at the far end of the line of boys. The boy had been looking at him but let his gaze drop the second Guti laid his eyes on him.
“Well, hello … who do we have got here …,” Guti said, interrupting his silent observation for the first time in a few minutes, slowly walking over to the boy who was still looking at the ground. It was too late for him, though, as Guti had already caught a glimpse of the boy’s face. Fair skin covered in a myriad of freckles, soft-looking strands of blonde hair falling into his face and the hint of large brown eyes peering out from under the messily cut fringe. “Won’t you tell me your name, beautiful?”
“Fernando. … My name is Fernando …”
The boy in front of Guti was blushing now, almost making Guti purr with satisfaction as he saw how the blush spread in the boy’s cheeks, giving a whole new perspective and depth to his features.
Perfect.
“Fernando? … Hm, no, I don’t think so. … You shall be my Golden Boy from here on out. My golden boy...”
Three: oneshot, written for my footballverse prompt table, prompt 2: wherever you are
This is set before the post I linked to above, so during a period of the story where Fernando is still the runaway lost and not found. In this oneshot, there are also allusions to Rubén's drug addiction which is not explored further in this part but which is a big part in the (unwritten) story.
“ 850 … 855 … 870 … damn it, this can’t be everything. … There’s still a total of at least 130 missing …,” Miguel shook his head and silently counted again but the outcome was the same. The dark-haired boy cast a glance around. “Sure everyone has delivered all of their paying? Esteban? Candyboy?”
Both of them nodded eagerly, Candyboy’s bottom lip stuck in between his teeth. Little Sergio looked close to losing his temper already, the smallest hint of tears shimmering in the corners of his eyes. The new kid, Esteban, just watched the scene with a blank expression, too new around to know what this could mean but knowing Guti long enough for having a slight idea what it might. And even that idea, as loosely based on reality as it may was, was terrifying enough.
Miguel sighed lowly before turning his head, already regretting this step before he had even said a single word.
“Rubén …? Did you-…”
“What? Did I do what?" Rubén snapped defensively, his whole body snapping into attention. "… Put all of my ‘paying' in there, yes! Took something out of that glass, no! ... What the fuck, Miguel, is it that you’re trying to say?”
Miguel sighed again and turned around.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to know … you know?”
There was a loud rustling and squeaking of the bed as Rubén hopped down from it, his footsteps stomping on the ground as he hurried towards the door.
“Yeah, I fucking know what you are getting at. And I can assure you that I haven’t taken anything from that glass since more than just a little while, you of all people should know that best. … Thanks for nothing, Miguel, thank you very much.”
And with that Rubén was flying out of the room, banging the door shut behind him and making all of the remaining boys startle.
Closing his eyes, Miguel rubbed his hands across his cheek, tried to remain calm and sighed again. It was that moment that Sergio seemed to get back to life, the long-haired boy having sat quietly facing the window ever since he had returned, his gaze fixed on the stars outside and his head at a place far far away, somewhere at a place he didn’t know but with a person he knew better than himself - or so he had thought.
The bang of the door had brought him back to the here and now, though.
“What’s the matter?”
“We’re lacking 130 bucks to save us from Guti’s fury … and well, I asked Rubén whether he knows something about that and … turned out it wasn’t the brightest idea. He’s gone now. …”
“Oh …,” Sergio shook his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of his ragged jeans - his eyes suddenly brightening up. “Oh … wait a minute, I haven’t put my paying for tonight into it, yet …”
And before the three other boy’s eyes he pulled a bunch of crumpled notes out of his pockets, counting them carefully. “50 … 100 … 150 .. 250 … 275 … 300 … and we need another 130, yes? … Well, there you go …,” the shine in Sergio’s eyes faded as he stuffed the money into the glass, not even realizing Miguel’s annoyed and slightly angered stare. “It’s been a tough night for 300 bucks, that guy was freaking sleazy …”
“Well, you could have told us earlier that you’re still to submit your part … would have saved us Rubén’s fury …,” the other Sergio, Candyboy, mumbled, taking the words right out of Miguel’s mouth. “Who knows what he’s doing right now… He seemed to be quite upset that we thought he might have…”
“Yeah … sorry about that …,” Sergio shrugged, returning to his place at the window and falling back into his almost apathetic staring as if nothing had happened immediately.
He still didn’t realize the angry stare he was receiving, nor did he realize how Miguel handed the 1000 Euros to Esteban, telling him to get them to Guti while he grabbed his coat and set out into the dawning morning to look for Rubén, or how Candyboy rolled up on the bed, yawning once and having fallen asleep in next to no time, the thrumming of new bruises and the rhythm of his heart still beating quite too fast putting him to sleep.
When Sergio turned around eventually, sleep making his bones heavy, he couldn’t help his heart to skip a beat before he realized that it was Candyboy lying on the bed, his light blond hair tousled all around his head, that it was Candyboy and no one else. Sighing, Sergio took his shirt off and slipped out of his pants, climbing on the bed and settling in with his chest pressed to Candyboy’s back, sharing the warmth and the scent and the softness of his body with him.
“Wherever you are …,” Sergio whispered to the shadows of the past which never seemed to stop haunting him and which had refused to let go of him tonight so urgently and pressed a good-night kiss to Candyboy’s slightly damp neck, just when Esteban slipped back into the room. Sergio knew already that tonight would be one of these sleepless nights, lying awake so that Candyboy could sleep and waiting for Miguel’s and Rubén’s return when all he was really waiting for was his return from wherever he was.
It's the same verse as this one.
One: drabble; written for writerverse and the prompt 'All the world's a stage'.
Sergio 'Candyboy' Canales gives some basic instruction to the newest addition to the group, Esteban.
Despite knowing better, Esteban couldn’t help but stare at the younger boy incredulously.
“You want me to do … what?”
The blonde one only sighed, tiredly so.
“All the world’s a stage and all that jazz, you understand?” he then shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, of course they do know what we are. And they know that we know what they are. … But most of them love to pretend that they’d rather not know what’s going on at all. And if that’s what they wish for … well, you better make damn sure that it’s what they’re getting, as well.”
Two: ficlet, written for my footballverse prompt table, prompt 26: tell me your name
Flashback showing how Guti discovers Fernando 'Golden Boy' Torres, runaway lost and found.
Guti let his eyes wander, casting an attentive glance at every one of the boys, scanning them briefly and quickly from head to toe. He was pleased with what he saw, satisfied with the potential he could already see in them. All of them were young and even though they differed greatly in their looks, all of them were at least acceptable if not handsome. Letting his eyes wander further, suddenly Guti saw a boy standing at the far end of the line of boys. The boy had been looking at him but let his gaze drop the second Guti laid his eyes on him.
“Well, hello … who do we have got here …,” Guti said, interrupting his silent observation for the first time in a few minutes, slowly walking over to the boy who was still looking at the ground. It was too late for him, though, as Guti had already caught a glimpse of the boy’s face. Fair skin covered in a myriad of freckles, soft-looking strands of blonde hair falling into his face and the hint of large brown eyes peering out from under the messily cut fringe. “Won’t you tell me your name, beautiful?”
“Fernando. … My name is Fernando …”
The boy in front of Guti was blushing now, almost making Guti purr with satisfaction as he saw how the blush spread in the boy’s cheeks, giving a whole new perspective and depth to his features.
Perfect.
“Fernando? … Hm, no, I don’t think so. … You shall be my Golden Boy from here on out. My golden boy...”
Three: oneshot, written for my footballverse prompt table, prompt 2: wherever you are
This is set before the post I linked to above, so during a period of the story where Fernando is still the runaway lost and not found. In this oneshot, there are also allusions to Rubén's drug addiction which is not explored further in this part but which is a big part in the (unwritten) story.
“ 850 … 855 … 870 … damn it, this can’t be everything. … There’s still a total of at least 130 missing …,” Miguel shook his head and silently counted again but the outcome was the same. The dark-haired boy cast a glance around. “Sure everyone has delivered all of their paying? Esteban? Candyboy?”
Both of them nodded eagerly, Candyboy’s bottom lip stuck in between his teeth. Little Sergio looked close to losing his temper already, the smallest hint of tears shimmering in the corners of his eyes. The new kid, Esteban, just watched the scene with a blank expression, too new around to know what this could mean but knowing Guti long enough for having a slight idea what it might. And even that idea, as loosely based on reality as it may was, was terrifying enough.
Miguel sighed lowly before turning his head, already regretting this step before he had even said a single word.
“Rubén …? Did you-…”
“What? Did I do what?" Rubén snapped defensively, his whole body snapping into attention. "… Put all of my ‘paying' in there, yes! Took something out of that glass, no! ... What the fuck, Miguel, is it that you’re trying to say?”
Miguel sighed again and turned around.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to know … you know?”
There was a loud rustling and squeaking of the bed as Rubén hopped down from it, his footsteps stomping on the ground as he hurried towards the door.
“Yeah, I fucking know what you are getting at. And I can assure you that I haven’t taken anything from that glass since more than just a little while, you of all people should know that best. … Thanks for nothing, Miguel, thank you very much.”
And with that Rubén was flying out of the room, banging the door shut behind him and making all of the remaining boys startle.
Closing his eyes, Miguel rubbed his hands across his cheek, tried to remain calm and sighed again. It was that moment that Sergio seemed to get back to life, the long-haired boy having sat quietly facing the window ever since he had returned, his gaze fixed on the stars outside and his head at a place far far away, somewhere at a place he didn’t know but with a person he knew better than himself - or so he had thought.
The bang of the door had brought him back to the here and now, though.
“What’s the matter?”
“We’re lacking 130 bucks to save us from Guti’s fury … and well, I asked Rubén whether he knows something about that and … turned out it wasn’t the brightest idea. He’s gone now. …”
“Oh …,” Sergio shook his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of his ragged jeans - his eyes suddenly brightening up. “Oh … wait a minute, I haven’t put my paying for tonight into it, yet …”
And before the three other boy’s eyes he pulled a bunch of crumpled notes out of his pockets, counting them carefully. “50 … 100 … 150 .. 250 … 275 … 300 … and we need another 130, yes? … Well, there you go …,” the shine in Sergio’s eyes faded as he stuffed the money into the glass, not even realizing Miguel’s annoyed and slightly angered stare. “It’s been a tough night for 300 bucks, that guy was freaking sleazy …”
“Well, you could have told us earlier that you’re still to submit your part … would have saved us Rubén’s fury …,” the other Sergio, Candyboy, mumbled, taking the words right out of Miguel’s mouth. “Who knows what he’s doing right now… He seemed to be quite upset that we thought he might have…”
“Yeah … sorry about that …,” Sergio shrugged, returning to his place at the window and falling back into his almost apathetic staring as if nothing had happened immediately.
He still didn’t realize the angry stare he was receiving, nor did he realize how Miguel handed the 1000 Euros to Esteban, telling him to get them to Guti while he grabbed his coat and set out into the dawning morning to look for Rubén, or how Candyboy rolled up on the bed, yawning once and having fallen asleep in next to no time, the thrumming of new bruises and the rhythm of his heart still beating quite too fast putting him to sleep.
When Sergio turned around eventually, sleep making his bones heavy, he couldn’t help his heart to skip a beat before he realized that it was Candyboy lying on the bed, his light blond hair tousled all around his head, that it was Candyboy and no one else. Sighing, Sergio took his shirt off and slipped out of his pants, climbing on the bed and settling in with his chest pressed to Candyboy’s back, sharing the warmth and the scent and the softness of his body with him.
“Wherever you are …,” Sergio whispered to the shadows of the past which never seemed to stop haunting him and which had refused to let go of him tonight so urgently and pressed a good-night kiss to Candyboy’s slightly damp neck, just when Esteban slipped back into the room. Sergio knew already that tonight would be one of these sleepless nights, lying awake so that Candyboy could sleep and waiting for Miguel’s and Rubén’s return when all he was really waiting for was his return from wherever he was.