It was a chilly autumn night. Cold wind was wheezing and weeping, moving around all the trash people were so careless to throw away during the day. Just the right time for various freaks to get out and start wandering around darkened streets, most of the street lamps out of service. The homeless were either strolling with no real aim or lying on the freezing concrete pavements, huddled tightly and watching their breath creating a nice white fog while coming out of their tightly sealed lips.
‘Fuck,’ Chester thought after closely inspecting his brand new boot that was stopping the blood circulation in his right foot. It turned out that kicking the abandoned can wasn’t probably one of the best ideas as there was a small scratch right on the tip of his black Doc Martens. ‘Shit,’ he said to himself after a while spent by rubbing the smudge with his salivated thumb. He’d just ruined his new favourite boots.
This day really wasn’t one Chester would like to remember in his older days, while sitting in a rocking chair, sucking on a pipe with his toothless mouth. Right after waking up, he had known it was one of those times when everything went remarkably wrong. And wasn’t he right? Breaking up with his long term on and off boyfriend was far worse than spilling a coffee over himself or banging his head on a fridge door though. Furthermore, it seemed that this time there really was no coming back. No heartfelt apologies. No hot, rampant make up sex. Just, no Dave anymore.
And it did hurt. More than Chester would admit to anybody, let alone Dave. The pain clenching his heart and gut was extremely unpleasant and growing gradually too, therefore there was no other chance than to numb it before it took over him and, God forbid, made him cry or something. However, having no money and drowning in debts that resulted into death threats was a bit of a problem, as the best way to forget in this situation would be a nice calming shot right into his pumping vein. So that left him with only one option.
The night was so cold that Chester was starting to be afraid he might not be lucky after all. However, he knew from Dave that there was always at least one desperate soul lingering around the lonely streets in case some lunatic like Chester decided he wanted to have a bit of fun even though every other normal being was sitting wrapped up in a blanket in front of their fireplace.
And that’s when he saw him. His saviour. Although the slightly slouched man standing under the only lit street lamp didn’t seem to be Chester’s type at all, from what he could actually see, there was no way in Hell he would bolt now. Not in this weather and in a desperate need for a warm body to drown his sorrow in. Besides, the curly guy seemed to be quite young, therefore probably new to the business, so he would be easy to trick. Not that Chester would have any problems with that though.
They wordlessly exchanged shy smiles after Chester approached the obviously shuddering stranger and together they set off for their new shared destination. One of those small dirty flats, the only furniture there an old bed and if you were lucky a tiny sink hiding in a corner. That was the usual standard anyway and this guy didn’t look like anything special to be given a better place to serve his clients.
While silently marching up the narrow, steep stairway, a sudden wave of nostalgia ran over the tonight’s customer. This night was too similar to the very first time Chester had met his former boyfriend. Yet again being threatened because of his expensive drug habit and failures to foot the bills on time, Chester had needed some comfort, seeking it in another guilty pleasure of his. Needless to say the initial attraction had grown into something stronger rather quickly. A feeling so powerful that Dave had been even willing to give up his source of income for Chester and their brand new relationship.
Too bad Chester hadn’t been able to abandon one of the habits that had cost him not only money he hadn’t had but also his dignity and safety. In the end the price to pay had been his relationship and possibly a true love. So there he was, brokenhearted, in need for a comfort once again.
The door clicked softly behind the two men. Now they were standing in the middle of the small room facing each other, the air around them thickening. The light was quite dim, but Chester could tell the judgement he had made a few moments prior was rather hasty. The guy standing opposite him was actually quite beautiful. Curly hair creating a dark frame around his pale, unlined face. Straight nose, thin rosy lips. Pink blush adorning his cheeks.
“Brad,” the seemingly younger man suddenly spoke up, waking Chester from his trance. The latter only nodded in reply, not feeling like revealing his identity just yet because the purpose of this night was to forget. Forget about Dave. Forget his fucked up life. Forget his debts and all the people that were out to get him. Forget who he was and drown in pleasure and desire.
Therefore it wasn’t too long before they were both naked and kissing passionately on the creaking bed. Brad was rather skinny, Chester thought while running his finger over Brad’s protruding ribs. Much like himself, although the curly man seemed to be more fragile and even innocent in a way.
Kissing quickly turned into shy, soft touching, just exploring each other bodies at first. Brad’s form was slender, his skin smooth and milky white with only a few dark hairs standing out here and there. So unlike Dave’s muscular tanned torso. But that was wrong; he wasn’t supposed to think about Dave. Tonight he craved oblivion.
With growing desperation, Chester forcefully flipped Brad around so he was now on his hands and knees. He couldn’t look into Brad’s face for all he saw was just his former lover cackling at him, his eyes full of hatred and loathing.
All the tension and pressure that had been cumulating in Chester’s soul the whole day was now let loose. He gripped tightly the lean hips before him and roughly thrust into his one night stand, not waiting for anything. A small whimper emitted from Brad as his customer hadn’t bothered with preparation. However, he was used to worse.
Chester’s thrusts were getting more and more forceful, his hands roaming all over the sweat slicked body beneath him, occasionally clawing his uncut nails into the soft flesh. As he was nearing his climax, Chester firmly grasped a handful of the curly hair, running his thumb over the back of Brad’s neck, expecting the same soft skin as was stretching all over the rest of his body. The bigger was his surprise though when he was met with anything but.
All this time, Chester had thought it was a myth. Just another rumour floating around to intimidate and earn more respect. However, running his finger over Brad’s scarred neck; he knew the gossip wasn’t lying. Brad was branded. The two letters burnt into his skin were standing out, creating an ugly rough patch. A sign that even though a human being, he was owned by another man.
A man that happened to be Chester’s former drug dealer. A man feared by many and known for his cruelty and power. A man who had told Chester he would kill him was he ever to see him again. Just two simple letters were able to evoke dread and fear. Just his initials, M.S.
Had this all been set up? An ultimate plan to get rid of him for good?
Chester felt the body beneath him shudder with what might have been either Brad’s climax or the fear of his ‘owner’ approaching their room. A loud voice was echoing in the outside corridor, creating a cacophony in Chester’s ears as all his senses were focused elsewhere. The tight body still clenching and unclenching around him sent him over the edge right when the door burst open.
Spent and robbed of all coherent notions, Chester thought that if those were the last minutes of his life it was well worth it.
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