One. The street mouse, and the bird of prey
Chapter one. The Street mouse and the bird of prey.
The white haired blue eyed being wasn't much more than a boy. Definitely not quite a man. He was 17 (and a half) but if you asked he would tell you he just turned 18 last week. Most people who knew him on a regular basis didn’t ask. Because that answer didn’t change over the last 6 months. So it was best they not know the real answer. People looked down on him regardless. Even after spending the evening with him. Especially after spending a night. But if they knew he was a kid he knew it would be far worse. Human beings were assholes. He would never forget that. The fact that every human being had an angle.
The almost albino stood on the corner of his favorite street in the freezing cold evening, waiting for his next client. The next asshole to put a buck in his pocket. He was wearing his normal everyday hoodie even though it was cold enough for a warm coat. But he liked his hoodie. It was blue like his eyes, as was his hat. And besides he wouldn't be out for long. He never had to wait long. He also wore His skinny jeans, they were his favorite. They were jet black and showed off his killer ass like none other.
And he could refer to his ass as killer without feeling too conceited because he worked his ass off to get it that shape.
He approached the street when a car pulled up and rolled the passenger window down. The dark individual inside held several hundred dollar bills in his hand. The hand belonged to a man. He was older then the blue albino, but he was still only in his twenties. He didn't look like the boys usual clients either. Usually when a car pulled up for the young man -as he stood advertising - He expected to see an old man who couldn't get any without paying for it. Or married men who were so blatantly in the closet that they blush so profusely only to back out before he was half way started. But this man. He had an elegance to him. He gave off a dangerous aura, He was clearly used to being in charge of every situation. -And he was staring at the younger man.- He was also GORGEOUS. He may have been the most attractive being this boy had ever seen.
“What will this get me. “ the mysterious man asked showing the boy the money through the open window. He sat quietly waiting for the almost albino to count the money in his head. It only took him a second. After working this line of work for as long as he had working with money was easy. Any other form of education not so much. But fuck that. He didn't need an education. He was going to die young anyway. There was no doubting that. He would die young and end in hell. But that was to be worried about later. Now was for Sex and money. That was all he needed to know.
“Most of the night. If that's what you want. “ the kid replied.
He still hadn’t gotten a read on the man.
“you any good?” The man asked folding the money and tucking it back in his pocket.
The boy was utterly offended. He put on a brilliant genuine (looking) smile.
“I’m the best on the street.” He replied arrogantly. If this guy didn’t like his attitude he could fuck off. He didn’t need some fucker who was only looking to dominate someone smaller and better looking.
To his surprise the man returned the smile.
“What’s your name kid?” He asked seeming genuinely curious as he pointedly unlocked the door.
Yep definitely not a typical client. Most don't want a name. That would imply the boy was a human being. Not just a plaything for the evening. Which was definitely the vibe he got from the raven haired man at first. That he was a predator and that he himself -small and white like a mouse- were the prey. The Platinum blonde contemplated not answering. Names were complicated and usually a red flag. If they were a decent human then they wouldn’t be there. Or they got attached. And there was noooo getting rid of them after that. if they weren’t then they had some notion of messing with your head somehow. But more than that as he had thought before. This man gave off an aura, He was absolutely terrifying. In control, constrained. And probably in need of Avery good fuck. Which of course brought him here. To the best fuck in town.
“If you feel the need to call me something. Call me Traq. “ the boy ‘Traq’ answered.
‘So were you wanting some company for the evening?” He asked as the mysterious man said nothing. The man opened the passenger door, and gave Traq the most seductive look he had ever seen in his line of work. The boy had never been so turned on in his life. He thought hard about this. He had never seen this man before. Not on this street or any other. And he got a bad feeling about the man. It was almost to good to be true. A truly hot John who seemed to just be looking for a hot night of wild sex with ta very -if he did say so himself- attractive man whore. Everything about him screamed not a john. He was well dressed in a nice car and he had what the albino thought was probably a sense of humor. But then Traq remembered. What was the worst that could happen? He got picked up by some psycho? Ok and? If this guy was some super kinky psycho he could deal. Hell knew he had before.
A rapist wouldn't carry that much cash. And a murderer probably wouldn't ask for his name. And if he was a murderer then Traq wouLdn't have too many issues. Who was he to judge anyway. But even if this man was either of those things. The worst that could happen too Traq would be for him to die. And frankly he didn't care. If he did he wouldn’t have been there in the first place. He was going to hell. And Hell couldn't be much worse than his life now. So. He climbed into the car.
The dark haired man refused to move the car until traq was buckled. He said it was the law. Traq laughed and stopped himself from pointing out that it was illegal for the man to pick up a prostitute off of a street Corner. Yeah he definitely kept that thought to himself.
The older man asked if Traq had eaten and Traq of course insisted he was fine. The man stopped at a not to shabby diner and insisted he eat. He was not un-accustomed to having johns buying him dinner. But this one seemed to be being nice. Not trying to pretend that Traq was his boyfriend for the night.
Traq didn’t mind. Not as long as tall dark and handsome was buying.
They ate with polite conversation, the man asked Traq a few not-to-personal, personal questions. How old he was. How long he had been supporting himself. What kind of movies he liked.What his favorite color was. What his favorite food was his favorite holiday his favorite flower the list went on and on. Usually that conversation would have been awkward. But Traq was enjoying the evening. They spent probably an hour at the diner. Then they moved on to a hotel. Traq hadn’t ever been to this particular hotel in a work capacity. His clients usually didn’t want to spring for this expensive of a rondevu. (Traq always made his clients pay for the hotel. It was safe work practices no way he got payed and spent all that he earned on a more pleasurable local.)
They went to the desk and the boy almost felt out of place in his $20 hoodie his beanie and his skinny jeans. Other guests were wearing suits and ties and others in dresses and not one person looked like they were worth less than a million dollars. But Traq was accustomed to being out of place. He was a chameleon. He was determined to fit in anywhere. He took another look at the mysterious man that he had spent so far a pleasurable evening with. He was tall. Young, long black hair in a ponytail and he wore nice clothes but he wasn't in a suit. Traq hadn't thought he stood out in the street. But equally he didn't stand out in the lobby. The man behind the desk gave the man with the ponytail a key and he named a room number. Then they were off.
Once upstairs the man made himself right at home. He took off his shoes and his coat and sat on the bed. So Traq followed the example and took off his shoes and his hoodie. And walked closer to the man. The man handed the boy the money and he slid it into his pocket. He than slipped his shirt off. The man watched with a strange expression on his face. He was definitely turned on. But let’s be real. He had been turned on all night long. But part of him looked sad. Traq ignored that. So far the night has been better then his perfect night. It was more then his ideal. He began to kiss the man passionately on the lips.
The man definitely was not complaining. He kissed Traq back with just as much vigor.
They kissed for several minutes and Traq could sense that the man was having some form of reservation.
Traq began kissing his way down the man's chest. Undoing his button up shirt as he went.
the mans breathing was ragged and he gasped when Traq sucked here and there. He definitely left a couple of hickeys in the chest and pelvic reasons.
“How long have you been doing this?”
And then Traq made it too the man's pants
and he unbuttoned those as well.
“Do you really want too talk?” Traq asked licking his lips and unzipping the raven haired man's pants.
“Traq. “ the man said. It wasn't a moan. It was a statement. Despite the mans breathing still being uneven and heavy. He said it too get the boys attention. The albino looked up. Not used to hearing his name at all. Much less when he was being this distracting.
“I'm sorry. “
The boy's eyes went wide in what was first confusion. And was next horror, suddenly the atmosphere was electric. And not in the wild sex and excitement kind of way. In the shits hitting the fan and Traq is getting hit in the face type of way. the door burst open and 5 policemen came in with guns raised. Traq had it all wrong. The worst thing that could happen was in fact brought by this man and was not in fact death.
“Tariq mansoni. You are under arrest.” The man said looking him straight in the eyes.”
Tariq was being arrested. He had never in a million years expected this mysterious raven haired gorgeous man with blood colored eyes. To be A fucking, goddess damned, policeman.
Then someone was reading him his rights and he was dying inside. What was his father going to say? His life was fucking over.
Several hours later
After a long ride in the back of a police cruiser with his hands cuffed tightly behind his back, glaring daggers at the man he so recently was leaving trails of hickeys down the chest of, followed by an hour or three in which he was made to wait to be processed. The near albino sat staring at the wall. the same wall he had been staring at for well over an hour. he didn't particularly like the wall. It had no particular texture that was intriguing to him. He got no specific thrill from its color or the way the the shadows managed to be foreboding despite the fluorescent lighting. but it was the only place he could look. his only other options were the wall with the ‘mirror’ that was obviously a window -which he desperately hoped was not concealing the fucking fuck-man who had doomed him- or the wall with the door, and though he would never admit it, he was absolutely terrified of what was coming through said door… so he looked at the wall opposite the door and waited for someone to come in and judge him. he tried not to think about what was about to happen. he tried not to think about the fact that if he went to jail he would most likely be dead within the first year, and if not he would probably be far worse off. or that really the best option for him right now would be for the next person that came through that door to bring death with them and put him out of his misery now. Then he didn't have to face his parents if he did avoid jail. his father was going kill him if he found out he had been selling himself on the streets.
literally kill him. He had connections. So one would ever find his body. to the boys surprise and sheer dismay the goddess damned fuck man was the one to come into the interrogation room next. the mystery man from the night before looking just as fuck damn hot. his hair was still in the tight ponytail and his eyes almost glowed red as he sat across from the younger man. He dropped a large folder onto the table and then set a bottle of water in front of the boy…
“Drink.” he ordered as he shifted to a comfortable position in his seat. he had flipped the seat backwards and straddled it facing the almost albino. it was frustratingly and aggressively attractive, and if the boy facing him hadn't been so terrified and (sexually frustrated) he would have commented on the obvious seduction tactic. instead the boy stared untouching at the bottle of water. yes, he was thirsty. but he would be struck by the goddess before he took anything from the man whore…
not a drink not a fuck. Not anything. How could he have been so fucking stupid. He knew this guy was too fucking hot. And to hot to fuck.
He wasn’t a John. He had figured that out before he got in the fucking car. He knew it. And yet the thrill. By the goddess. Why was he so fucking thick.
Aforementioned Man whore seemed to notice the blatant defiance of his instructions, he looked as though he may say more on the matter of the child’s hydration, the boy was sure if he looked hard enough he could see the the snark behind his eyes. The same banter as before. but instead the man turned to the folder laying on the table and opened it.
“Traq… or better known as Tariq.” He paused. Probably for dramatic affect.
“Tariq Mansoni… i think that's a much nicer name than Traq don't you?” The man turned the folder around so that Tariq could see it properly . the would be albino was utterly shocked.. his jaw actually dropped. On the page was a photo of him. It was random. On the street he was wearing the same thing he was now. The weather seemed nice and he stood in front of a particular tattoo parlor hat he frequented. The fuck man flipped the page. Another photo. Words scrawled across it that he couldn’t read. He turned the page again. This one was a picture that was dark and grainy and had Tariq quite well in view from what seemed like a distance. It was all about him. this big ass folder that had to have at least 500 pages was all about him…he flipped through more pages randomly. they must have been following him for at least 3 years. they had been watching him since before he worked the streets… but why. why would anyone care about his life. before or after he was a fuck for hire…
The Raven haired destroyer of lives pushed the bottle of water gently toward the boy again.
“drink.” he said again and this time the kid didn't resist, he felt like he was dying. the man flipped through pages without saying a word and Tariq saw his life as a document… and he realized that this man knew more about his life than he did himself. considering the amount of time he had lost due to blackouts and blocked memories. but it was all there. in this fucking book like a novel to be read by any passerby…
“You’ve been following me” he couldn't bring himself to speak any louder then a whisper. He took a long swig from the water bottle.
“Not me personally, i was just put on this recently. .” the man answered all traces of the man Tariq had been flirting with that whole night were gone. He was all business now. And it was truly terrifying. taking the folder back the older man flipped to a specific page.
“But it's Quite a case, care too tell me why you haven't asked for a lawyer yet? you're entitled…” He said it with a knowing voice. the red eyed man looked directly into Tariq’s eyes like he was trying to find the answers to all of life's questions hidden there.
as if his eyes could possibly be that interesting. Never to a man such as this.
“I don't know one…” Tariq answered the question easy enough, but breaking eye contact, he had harder time with.
the fuck man refused to relent for well over a minute.
“I'm sure you're father knows a few dozen very good lawyers. you could have called him.” the man said finally breaking eye contact he looked back down to the folder.
“Yeah. I could,but i would rather not bother him, my stepfather is a very busy man…” he said. Not mentioning that he would literally rather die than to have his father know where he was at that moment. Tariq answered the question with as much sass as he could into the mundane sentence.
“alright then.we will proceed without one, shall we?” the man said holding his gaze hostage again. He released him again only to turn yet another page in the massive file.
“You're file says you are only 17
years old… you told me you were 18…” he paused as if waiting for Tariq to respond.
“well you're file must be wrong. i turned 18 last week…” Tariq lied flatly. how the fuck was he supposed to get out of this shit. no matter what he said this fuck hole was going to screw him too the wall. (And at this point the young near albino would rather that in a literal sense)
“Really, and how long have you been whoring yourself out?” The man responded harshly. Again. Not an ounce of the flirtatious man from the night before to be found. he didn't raise his voice. but something in the way he said it was absolutely terrifying.
“J-just a couple of days…” Tariq lied again. he knew this man had a file dictating his life. and even if he didn't Tariq knew this man could see right through him.
he had been seeing into his soul from the moment they met.
“hmm… “ Was the man's response.
“ That's not what a mister Craig Lawson told my colleague.” the man said this and paused waiting for the name to sink in. it didn't at first. and even though Tariq was the king of hiding emotions the fuck officer could still tell when it did.
he hadn’t been expecting that. “or a man by the name of Jonas Fisher. Eld Meyers would also disagree with you on that statement. and Samuel Evans, as well as Tobias Thorne.”
it took all Tariq had not too cry. how the fucking fuckmen did the fuck faced man whore wouldbe get his regular client list. those names were the men he didn't pick up on the street.those were the men he picked up at his stepfather's business dinners after everyone had too much to drink and could slip away with no one noticing.
“Do i have your attention now? Mister Mansoni.” the man said snapping Tariq from his dasparing thoughts. This wasn’t happening. In fact it really couldn’t be happening. That list was dirt old. Those men were all his fathers business partner. He only saw them when his father allowed it. And they were far more discreet then anyone else in the city. They had to be. What with all of their secrets. This wasn’t about his clients it couldn't be. It wasn’t about the whoring either. if they were after him and had his client list dating back to the loss of his virginity. than they had been watching his house, his family. for a long long time.
this had to be about his father. Which made
far more sense. His father was into a lot of shady shit. Drugs, whores, human trafficking. If it made money he was involved. And the fact this was about his stepfather. Meant it wasn’t about him and that changed things.
“Oh, you had my attention from the moment you pulled up too that street corner.” Tariq sassed back. it was a whole new game now. despite the man's best efforts he let out a small smile. There was almost a warmth to it.
“good.because i have a proposition for you.” he said leaning in closer to the boys face.
“that’s a dangerous claim in my line of work.” Tariq replied with a smile of his own.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door, The raven haired man snapped his head up and looked at the door with searing rage. the door edged open and a young woman slid her head in.
“Keirce?” she said almost whispering. the older man stood and walked to the door in one fluid sweeping motion. so his name was Keirce? interesting. Keirce and the purple haired woman exchanged words aggressively and quietly for a whole 2 minutes before she left and Keirce returned to the table angrier than Tariq thought was possible.
al thoughts of propositions were clearly off the table.
“it seems you're Step Father is here. and he has convinced the chief that you are being held unjustly… therefore we are letting you go with the sincerest apologies of the force…” the man ground out through bared teeth. Tariq froze. All the sass and sarcasm gone.
“Oh” was all he could manage. The chill was returning to his bones as he realized that he was going home. With his father. He was going to die. The man stood and uncuffed the blue eyed boy, and with that the boy was released into his fathers care.
1 week later
The white haired blue eyed being wasn't much more than a boy. Definitely not quite a man. He was 17 (and a half) but if you asked he would tell you he just turned 18 last week. the boy stood on the corner of his favorite street. he was wearing his favorite hoodie and his favorite hat. he was also wearing his skinny jeans that showed off his killer ass. he watched as more and more cars drove by without stopping. it was getting fairly late it was almost 4 in the morning and he was thinking about calling it a night... though not wanting too go home and risk dealing with his father. he decided on waiting another 10 minutes, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes smacking the end against his bare hand a few times before taking one out too light it.
A car chose that moment too pll up. the man inside rolled down the window. The Near albino smiled and walked too the car.