(no subject)
Title:Do It Like A Whore (Just Business)
Author: war_of_ataraxis
Pairing: Ville/Bam
Rating: PG-13 this chapter, NC-17 later
Summary: Ville is a street whore, running low on business for the night, when a cute guy in a nice car offers to pay him for his company. Ville accepts, and goes home with him - how much does this cute stranger have in mind, and how much is Ville willing to give?
Disclaimer: Do not own, don't sue me, I have no money, and god knows the RIAA wants me more for the 13,000 songs on my computer...
Writing archive found at love_sex_angst
Damn, tonight was cold. What had they said the fucking temperature was? Thirty-one? Shit. I'm going to freeze to death, or not going to get any fucking business to boot. There go my fucking meals; I'd prefer the first option frankly.
I shivered and crossed my arms over my thin shirt, attempting to warm myself as my eyes scanned up and down the road. My hopes lifted as a car appeared at the far end and I made sure to put my hands on my hips and jut them just so...
But the car continued past, loud rap music blaring and neon lights shining.
Bet its warm in there.
I was too busy watching the other car, considering giving the driver the finger just for sheer frustration, that I scarcely noticed a second car pulling up and stopping beside me. I looked over, surprised, as the passenger side window rolled down and I was motioned over. I strutted slightly in my platform boots, pouting my lips in a hopefully seductive way, not sure that my skinny cheeks were able to sustain this look for very long. I leaned over and peered into the car to see a young male, maybe twenty five sitting behind the wheel.
"Yo, it's fucking cold out here! You need a ride or something?"
I huffed in frustration. "What the fuck do you think I'm doing? Trying to make some fucking money. God, damn." I started to turn from the car to go back to my area, pissed off that the only man I had gotten to stop was fucking clueless, when he called out to me.
"How much?"
He looked young and inexperienced. I could take him for all he was fucking worth, judging by the nice interior of the car, and he'd probably never know the fucking difference. But for some reason this guy seemed too nice to do that to. I reminded myself that I didn't care, but questioned him simply, "What are you in the mood for?"
He looked thoughtful, and I realized this man was severely handsome; his blue eyes bright and full of life, his dark brown hair slightly wavy and out of control. He looked vaguely familiar, but I was in no situation to stand here place him in my memory of thousands of faces. He could be anybody.
"How about for just your company?"
"Sweetie," I pouted, leaning over onto his window frame. "I don't do just company. If you want company, why don't you call your mother?"
"I didn't say that was all," he contradicted, rolling his eyes. "Just how much to start?"
When I didn't reply right away, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of cash that made my eyes stretch wide. "How about this to start?" he questioned, pulling a fifty from the wad. "Is that enough for a little bit of company?"
I didn't even respond, just reached through the door and picked up the bill half of me wishing to just turn and run away with it, but one glance into his eyes told me he almost expected me to do that... and that made me climb in with him.
He could be anybody, he could fucking kill me for Christ's sake, my mind reminded me as I slid the door closed, looping the seatbelt around me at his reminder but it's not like I don't take that chance every night... and its not like part of me wouldn't be thankful for one of them slitting my throat one day. But he looked gentle... then again most murderers do in the beginning, I guess.
"So, what's your name?" he questioned quietly after a few minutes of driving. My mind automatically attempted to fly to whatever name I had handed out last, but then I just gave up; I was too tired and cold to think up a psuedoname.
"Ville," I sighed, leaning my head against the glass of the window, watching the pavement slide away below us.
Without being asked he replied, "I'm Bam."
I nodded not to be rude, and then continued to look out the window as we drove silently; I could feel his eyes on me every now and then, but not saying anything. This too I was used to.
"We're here," he finally stated, pulling up into a nice house; not too big, but not too small. Like he had money but hadn't quite found the right house yet; either that or he had made money and blown it all on a good car. I was used to this type of guy... impulse buyers and hedonistic men were my business.
He got out of the car after parking, moving to come and open my door, but I had already opened it and stood up rolling my eyes lightly, even though something inside me smiled. This man was either still sweet despite things he's done... or really was terribly inexperienced. He shrugged and began to walk towards the house, me trailing a few feet behind him and watching him as he walked.
If he continued paying me tonight, this might actually end up being something I enjoy more than usual; he was a good change from the overweight, balding and married men that usually stopped and offered me money for my services. He was not the first two I could tell automatically and a quick glance at his fingers as he slid the key into the door told me he wasn't the last one either.
He walked into the house, finally turning to face me as he held the door open for me and motioned inward. "Mi casa," he stated in some of the worst Spanish I've ever heard, and I couldn't help but laugh slightly and shake my head as I looked around, hearing him close the door behind me.
"Nice... most guys just take me to a motel."
"Eh, I've got some class."
"You picked up a hooker off the road. A male one at that."
And then he stopped moving, his mouth opened. "You're a dude? You told me your name was Willa!" he practically screeched at me, and my mouth opened, ready to say something in my defense when he broke into peals of laughter.
"I'm just fucking with you, man."
"It costs an extra two hundred to fuck me. Two fifty if you want me to fuck you... and you have to provide the condom," I admit, I jacked up the prices a bit, but he didn't even seem to notice.
"How about I give you an extra twenty and cook you dinner? You look like you haven't eaten."
I would have protested, but the growl in my stomach threatened me. "I - fine." What could a little dinner hurt anyway? I'm being paid. It's all the same.
"Good," he smiled smugly, pulling another bill from the wad and laying it on the kitchen table. I hurriedly snatched it up as I watched him walk into the kitchen and start searching through the cabinets, his shirt moving up and revealing a nicely toned stomach.
I watched greedily before my mind became confused. I'm picked up daily to get sex from guys that I don't want; I find a guy who doesn't want sloppy sex in a dingy motel room and I actually kind of want to fuck him? I'm probably just wanting more money I tried to console myself.
But I couldn't help but smile as I looked into the kitchen to see him frying hamburger, a box of noodles and a jar of sauce set to the side, as he hummed softly to himself.
Maybe he's different.
No, they're all just cash; he's prolonging it. He's a nice guy... for now.
I sighed and looked down at the table, folding up the bill he had laid down and stuffing it in my pocket with the other bill.
This night will just happen to be a little bit better than some of the others... then he'll just drop you off at your piece of shit corner and you'll go back to freezing your ass off, this time with a full stomach. That's all you can really be thankful for; after all, you're just a whore.
Biting my lip to try to settle these thoughts, I looked into the kitchen once again, I watched him smile as he ran a hand through his hair. At least he was cute.
Really cute. But lets just get this over with. It all ends up the same.
* - * - *
A/N: Hmmm, iunno. This was just something that randomly popped into my head. I have about five other stories half written and I write this one completely even though it was nowhere on the plan. Oh well. Let me know what you guys think, and I'll write more if you're interested. =)
Author: war_of_ataraxis
Pairing: Ville/Bam
Rating: PG-13 this chapter, NC-17 later
Summary: Ville is a street whore, running low on business for the night, when a cute guy in a nice car offers to pay him for his company. Ville accepts, and goes home with him - how much does this cute stranger have in mind, and how much is Ville willing to give?
Disclaimer: Do not own, don't sue me, I have no money, and god knows the RIAA wants me more for the 13,000 songs on my computer...
Writing archive found at love_sex_angst
Damn, tonight was cold. What had they said the fucking temperature was? Thirty-one? Shit. I'm going to freeze to death, or not going to get any fucking business to boot. There go my fucking meals; I'd prefer the first option frankly.
I shivered and crossed my arms over my thin shirt, attempting to warm myself as my eyes scanned up and down the road. My hopes lifted as a car appeared at the far end and I made sure to put my hands on my hips and jut them just so...
But the car continued past, loud rap music blaring and neon lights shining.
Bet its warm in there.
I was too busy watching the other car, considering giving the driver the finger just for sheer frustration, that I scarcely noticed a second car pulling up and stopping beside me. I looked over, surprised, as the passenger side window rolled down and I was motioned over. I strutted slightly in my platform boots, pouting my lips in a hopefully seductive way, not sure that my skinny cheeks were able to sustain this look for very long. I leaned over and peered into the car to see a young male, maybe twenty five sitting behind the wheel.
"Yo, it's fucking cold out here! You need a ride or something?"
I huffed in frustration. "What the fuck do you think I'm doing? Trying to make some fucking money. God, damn." I started to turn from the car to go back to my area, pissed off that the only man I had gotten to stop was fucking clueless, when he called out to me.
"How much?"
He looked young and inexperienced. I could take him for all he was fucking worth, judging by the nice interior of the car, and he'd probably never know the fucking difference. But for some reason this guy seemed too nice to do that to. I reminded myself that I didn't care, but questioned him simply, "What are you in the mood for?"
He looked thoughtful, and I realized this man was severely handsome; his blue eyes bright and full of life, his dark brown hair slightly wavy and out of control. He looked vaguely familiar, but I was in no situation to stand here place him in my memory of thousands of faces. He could be anybody.
"How about for just your company?"
"Sweetie," I pouted, leaning over onto his window frame. "I don't do just company. If you want company, why don't you call your mother?"
"I didn't say that was all," he contradicted, rolling his eyes. "Just how much to start?"
When I didn't reply right away, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of cash that made my eyes stretch wide. "How about this to start?" he questioned, pulling a fifty from the wad. "Is that enough for a little bit of company?"
I didn't even respond, just reached through the door and picked up the bill half of me wishing to just turn and run away with it, but one glance into his eyes told me he almost expected me to do that... and that made me climb in with him.
He could be anybody, he could fucking kill me for Christ's sake, my mind reminded me as I slid the door closed, looping the seatbelt around me at his reminder but it's not like I don't take that chance every night... and its not like part of me wouldn't be thankful for one of them slitting my throat one day. But he looked gentle... then again most murderers do in the beginning, I guess.
"So, what's your name?" he questioned quietly after a few minutes of driving. My mind automatically attempted to fly to whatever name I had handed out last, but then I just gave up; I was too tired and cold to think up a psuedoname.
"Ville," I sighed, leaning my head against the glass of the window, watching the pavement slide away below us.
Without being asked he replied, "I'm Bam."
I nodded not to be rude, and then continued to look out the window as we drove silently; I could feel his eyes on me every now and then, but not saying anything. This too I was used to.
"We're here," he finally stated, pulling up into a nice house; not too big, but not too small. Like he had money but hadn't quite found the right house yet; either that or he had made money and blown it all on a good car. I was used to this type of guy... impulse buyers and hedonistic men were my business.
He got out of the car after parking, moving to come and open my door, but I had already opened it and stood up rolling my eyes lightly, even though something inside me smiled. This man was either still sweet despite things he's done... or really was terribly inexperienced. He shrugged and began to walk towards the house, me trailing a few feet behind him and watching him as he walked.
If he continued paying me tonight, this might actually end up being something I enjoy more than usual; he was a good change from the overweight, balding and married men that usually stopped and offered me money for my services. He was not the first two I could tell automatically and a quick glance at his fingers as he slid the key into the door told me he wasn't the last one either.
He walked into the house, finally turning to face me as he held the door open for me and motioned inward. "Mi casa," he stated in some of the worst Spanish I've ever heard, and I couldn't help but laugh slightly and shake my head as I looked around, hearing him close the door behind me.
"Nice... most guys just take me to a motel."
"Eh, I've got some class."
"You picked up a hooker off the road. A male one at that."
And then he stopped moving, his mouth opened. "You're a dude? You told me your name was Willa!" he practically screeched at me, and my mouth opened, ready to say something in my defense when he broke into peals of laughter.
"I'm just fucking with you, man."
"It costs an extra two hundred to fuck me. Two fifty if you want me to fuck you... and you have to provide the condom," I admit, I jacked up the prices a bit, but he didn't even seem to notice.
"How about I give you an extra twenty and cook you dinner? You look like you haven't eaten."
I would have protested, but the growl in my stomach threatened me. "I - fine." What could a little dinner hurt anyway? I'm being paid. It's all the same.
"Good," he smiled smugly, pulling another bill from the wad and laying it on the kitchen table. I hurriedly snatched it up as I watched him walk into the kitchen and start searching through the cabinets, his shirt moving up and revealing a nicely toned stomach.
I watched greedily before my mind became confused. I'm picked up daily to get sex from guys that I don't want; I find a guy who doesn't want sloppy sex in a dingy motel room and I actually kind of want to fuck him? I'm probably just wanting more money I tried to console myself.
But I couldn't help but smile as I looked into the kitchen to see him frying hamburger, a box of noodles and a jar of sauce set to the side, as he hummed softly to himself.
Maybe he's different.
No, they're all just cash; he's prolonging it. He's a nice guy... for now.
I sighed and looked down at the table, folding up the bill he had laid down and stuffing it in my pocket with the other bill.
This night will just happen to be a little bit better than some of the others... then he'll just drop you off at your piece of shit corner and you'll go back to freezing your ass off, this time with a full stomach. That's all you can really be thankful for; after all, you're just a whore.
Biting my lip to try to settle these thoughts, I looked into the kitchen once again, I watched him smile as he ran a hand through his hair. At least he was cute.
Really cute. But lets just get this over with. It all ends up the same.
* - * - *
A/N: Hmmm, iunno. This was just something that randomly popped into my head. I have about five other stories half written and I write this one completely even though it was nowhere on the plan. Oh well. Let me know what you guys think, and I'll write more if you're interested. =)