Summary: The owner of a failing company. An optimistic young prostitute. A fractured love, with no hope for a happy ending. Still, they'll try to make it work, come hell or high water. Jasper x Laurent, OOC.
Author's Note: Hey everyone! I really hope you enjoy my newest Fanfic, despite the crappy summary. Now just as a warning, I've never written anything this… explicit. Sorry if I offend anyone, or if it's not actually that good. Still, review and tell me what you think! :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or any of the characters from Twilight. I just own the plot.
Creature of the Night
Chapter One
Laurent sat at the bar, his grip tight around the small shot glass, as he stared blankly at the wall in front of him. It had been a terrible day, at the end of a terrible week, in the middle of what had, so far, been a terrible year. His company was in the pits, their finances had been slowly declining for almost five years, and now, after almost sixteen years of perfect health, their top executive had died, leaving Laurent in charge of a failing company that he didn't want.
"Freshen your glass mister?"
Laurent looked up, his vision slightly hazy, to see a busty waitress smiling down at him. She winked.
'Mildly attractive… big cups… ample hips… probably not a virgin, and she's offering me booze,' he thought. He sat up slightly, half raising his glass, then thought better of it. He would have to drive home soon. And besides, he wasn't really in the mood for a woman's company. Sex in general? Yes. Just not with a woman. Not tonight. He needed James…
He shook his head, and stood, pulling on his jacket. The leather was cold against his skin, and he rolled his shoulders, which felt stiff and awkward.
'That's what you get for sitting behind a desk for ten hours a day,' he thought grimly, signaling to the barkeep that he was leaving. He paid his tab, and slowly stumbled his way out of the bar. It was freezing outside, and he pulled his coat closer to his body, shivering slightly as he walked over to his car. He fumbled in his pocket for a minute or two, before pulling out the key, and unlocking the half frozen vehicle. He clambered inside, shoving the key into the ignition, and listening to the roar of the engine as the car sprang to life. Heat slowly filtered through the vents as he pulled out of the parking lot, and slowly approached the street.
The car zigzagged its way through the dark city streets. Laurent's house wasn't far from the bar, but just as he was about to turn onto his street, he decided against it. He abruptly changed direction, and headed downtown. He was in the mood for company.
Paved roads slowly filled with potholes, and streetlights became dimmer and dimmer. Grocery stores and movie theaters quickly replaced themselves with adult video stores, strip clubs, and abandoned properties.
Along the street, leaning against street signs, lamp posts and buildings were women. They milled about, in thin, lacy clothing, smoking and chatting to each other and to people inside the cars that pulled up next to them.
Laurent sighed, and slowed his car down slightly, observing the prostitutes at work. They were all loose, busty women, simply walking around the street, practically begging for sex. There were blondes, brunettes, and even the occasional gingers. Some had big breasts, some had small ones, but every single one of them was a woman, and therefore, not what he wanted. He wanted James. Unfortunately for him, James was on the other side of the planet at the moment, listening to speaker after speaker at the World Business Conference, in Hong Kong.
The car sped up, and continued down the street, and Laurent ran an olive-skinned hand through his dreadlocks. He needed a prostitute... but he only wanted one kind…
And as he turned down yet another dark street, he saw them. Some dressed in drag, others simply in shorts, or some kind of costume. Most were buff, carefree looking specimens, but they were exactly what Laurent was looking for.
And then he saw him.
'Jesus, he can't be much older than seventeen,' Laurent thought, slowing the car.
His curly blonde hair hung down freely, close to his ears. A pair of brilliant emerald green eyes stared vacantly out at the street as he leaned against a darkened building, his hands in his pockets. His clothes were tight, showing off the little muscle he had, and the sequins around the collar glinted softly in the moonlight. He was young, and he looked a little dazed and inexperienced, but he was almost an exact, younger looking replica of James. Laurent pulled up beside him, and rolled down the window.
"How much?"
The boy looked at him, startled, and frowned. He looked confused, and peered into the car, as if looking for other people. When he realized it was only Laurent, a dark blush spread across his cheeks.
"W-wait you… M-mister I don't-…. I-I mean, I've never-"
"Look kid, I don't give a shit. I'm asking how much," Laurent snapped. The boy flinched, and swallowed hard.
"T-ten an hour," he mumbled, still looking extremely uncomfortable. Laurent nodded, and opened the passenger side door.
"Right. Get in."
The boy went pale, and looked around, as if hoping Laurent was talking to someone else, or that one of the other men on the street would come over and help him. When nothing happened, he silently did as he was told, closing the door behind him. The car sped off down the street, back towards Laurent's house, the boy sitting beside him, shifting uncomfortably in the silence.
They reached Laurent's apartment building in record time, and Laurent got out of the car, motioning the boy to follow him inside. He tossed the keys to the valet, and led the boy over to the elevator, taking him upstairs to his penthouse suite.
After a minute or two of swearing and half-drunken fumbling to fit the key into the lock, Laurent entered his room. He stood in the doorway to his bedroom, watching as the boy looked around the apartment, wide eyed.
"I hope you realize, I'm not paying you to stare at my stuff," Laurent said, coldly. The boy jumped, and another blush coated his cheeks.
'Cute,' Laurent thought, and he smirked.
"Come on," he said, and took the boy into his bedroom. He watched, as the boy stood nervously in front of the king-sized bed, shifting from foot to foot. He didn't seem to know what to do. Laurent sighed.
"Take your shirt off,"
The boy stared up at him, terrified, and Laurent rolled his eyes.
"What are you waiting for? I'm paying you aren't I? Now take off your fucking shirt, and get in the god damn bed!"
"But I don't know how I'm supposed to do this," the boy said. His voice was soft, and timid, but full of resentment and confusion. Laurent blinked.
"What the fuck do you mean, you don't know how to do it? You're a prostitute aren't you?"
"Yeah. For women. I don't sleep with men," the boy said bluntly, crossing his arms, and giving Laurent a defiant look. Laurent growled, and grabbed him by the collar.
"Well guess what? You do now."
He threw the boy down on the bed, and climbed on top of him, pinning him down against the covers. The boy screamed, and Laurent slapped him hard across the face.
"Shut up," he hissed, his eyes glinting with fury. "Just shut up! I swear to god, if you make another sound, I will kill you,"
"Y-you wouldn't dare," the boy said, glaring up at Laurent. But he didn't sound quite so sure. Laurent gave a bitter laugh.
"Oh wouldn't I? Kid, you don't know the first thing about me. And besides, who would even care? You're just another useless prostitute. There are a hundred thousand others just like you,"
That shut him up. Laurent could see the light disappear from the younger man's eyes, and the color quickly faded from his cheeks. A pained expression crossed his face, and Laurent knew he had struck a nerve. He was almost surprised by how little he cared. Almost.
Laurent quickly undid the buttons to the boy's shirt, and flung it to the floor. He kissed his neck hungrily, and pulled the boy closer. The boy said nothing, but Laurent felt him stiffen against his chest, his heart racing with terror. Laurent cupped the boy's face in his hands and pulled him closer, forcing the boy's cold mouth against his own neck. The boy's lips began to move mechanically against Laurent's neck, passionless and numb, until Laurent pushed him down to the bed and ran his tongue up the side of his neck. The boy's entire body convulsed with shock, and Laurent allowed his tongue to roam freely over the boy's body. Slowly, hesitantly, the boy began to react. He wrapped his arms around Laurent's neck, pulling himself upwards and placing his mouth on Laurent's exposed collar bone, his tongue flicking against him, and then quickly pulling away.
Laurent smirked, and pulled off his shirt, pulling the boy closer. He felt his thin, icy fingers trailing along his chest, and he shivered.
'He's good with his hands,' Laurent thought, shaking slightly as the cold fingers trailed spiderlike across his lower abdomen. They traced small patterns across his stomach and back, lingering slightly too long in some places as the younger man struggled to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do. But Laurent refused to give any pointers, or hints. He simply watched, smirking slightly at the boy's growing frustration, before he pushed him back down on the bed, and slid a hand down the boy's pants.
The younger man shook violently as Laurent grasped his balls. Slowly, tauntingly, Laurent began rolling them in his hand. The boy gasped as Laurent gave him a hard squeeze, and bit down on his lower lip. Clearly, he was taking Laurent's 'No Talking' rule very seriously. How long would he last? Laurent smirked, and gripped the boy's balls harder. But the boy only bit down harder on his lower lip, staring up at Laurent defiantly, as if to say "You won't get me to make noise."
Laurent frowned slightly, but gave up. He continued to stroke the boy's balls as he leaned down, gently running his tongue over the younger man's nipple. Laurent's mouth closed over the hardening pink bud, his tongue flicking against it as his teeth nipped at it. The boy's heartbeat pounded in his ears, and his hands wound into the roots of Laurent's dreadlocks, gripping them tightly as his back arched in silent pleasure. Laurent bit down harder, and the younger man twisted beneath him.
He could feel the boy's cock pressing between his legs, and he smirked. Laurent removed the boy's pants, and allowed his tongue to slide its way down to the younger man's hardened shaft. His tongue twisted around the boy's head, and he sucked at it gently, as he slowly began to remove his own pants. He wrapped a hand around his own cock, slowly massaging it as he lowered his mouth over the boy's shaft, alternatively sucking and blowing at it, as the boy gripped at the bed sheets, his eyes closed tight. He set up a gentle rhythm as he pleasured both the boy and himself, while thoughts of James raced through his mind. Laurent suddenly bit down on the boy's dick, smirking as the younger man let out a noise half-way between a sob and a scream. He bit down harder, and the faint metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
He pulled away and spat it out before straddling the boy again, and flipping him onto his stomach as he positioned himself for entry. This, however, seemed to be a little more than what his partner had bargained for. The boy let out a whimper, starting to pull away from Laurent, but the older man held him down, gripping his wrists hard, and forcing him down.
The younger man's screams as Laurent slid into him were deafening. Laurent didn't really care though. He was in his element. He slid out slowly, hissing between his teeth, before slamming back into him, hard. He was merciless, the sounds of the pained cries driving him forward. Laurent could feel his balls tightening, and his shaft hardened even further. He sped up, and grabbed the younger man by the cock, determined to take him with him. He slid his hand up and down the boy's shaft, gripping the backboard of the bed for support as he continued to force himself into and out of the boy.
They came at the same time, with Laurent still trapped inside of the younger man. He let out a roar of pleasure, and pulled himself out of the younger man, gasping for air. Cum dripped through his fingers, as the younger man let out a low moan. Laurent collapsed beside him, still breathing heavily, and closed his eyes.
He could feel the bed moving as the boy beside him shook. He glanced over at him, to see tears rolling slowly down his pale cheeks. Laurent sat up slightly, and looked down at the boy, who seemed to be struggling to catch his breath. He reached out, and gently wiped away the younger man's tears, frowning down at him. The boy looked up at him, his eyes still reflecting fear and pain. Other than that, his expression was one of a calm, sad acceptance. Laurent felt a slight twinge of guilt, and he pulled away from the boy.
"I'm sorry,"
Laurent frowned at the younger man. He hadn't expected him to speak, let alone apologize.
"Why?" Laurent asked, "You didn't do anything,"
"E-exactly. I didn't… b-but I'm supposed to… I'm a prostitute, it's my job to do something, not just lay here and cry," the boy said, softly. Laurent sighed weakly, the kid did have a point. Still, he had enjoyed himself, which was all that really mattered.
"Well, you know… f-for a first time… i-it wasn't completely shit," Laurent mumbled, lying down. The boy didn't say anything, and Laurent began running a hand through the boy's thick, curly hair. The younger man sighed, and almost instantly relaxed. Laurent found himself smiling in spite of himself, and he pulled the boy closer, wrapping an arm around his slender waist.
'Laurent, what the hell are you doing? Since when are you affectionate?' he wondered. But then he looked down at the younger man, his golden hair splayed out across the pillow, his emerald green eyes twinkling in the moonlight as he struggled to stay awake, and he smiled. Laurent closed his eyes, and sighed deeply.
He was surprisingly tired. Usually, he could go for five or six rounds without even breaking a sweat. But alcohol, and stress from work had taken their toll, and Laurent quickly dropped off to sleep.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Several hours later, Laurent awoke to the sounds of slight rustling, and shifting covers. He blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and rolled over to stare at the clock. It was nearly five thirty in the morning.
Shifting slightly in bed, he noticed the empty space beside him, where the covers had been thrown back. The mattress was still warm, and it took Laurent a moment to remember that there had been another person in the room before he had fallen asleep.
He looked up, and saw the boy standing at the foot of the bed, pulling his shirt back on. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes, and Laurent could see faint bruises on his wrists from where he had held the boy down. The young man blinked, doe like, and continued to dress. Apparently he had only just woken up as well.
"Where are you going?"
The younger man looked up, startled, and a light blush colored his cheeks.
'So cute,' Laurent thought, sleepily.
"I-I'm sorry… I-I didn't mean to wake you up," the boy said softly. Laurent frowned, and sat up in bed.
"You didn't answer my question," he said, irritably, "Where are you going?"
"Home… I-I mean, erm… Back to my post,"
Laurent raised an eyebrow, smirking.
"You call your post, home?"
"Well, it's not like I have anywhere else to go-…" the boy started to say, but he trailed off, and stared awkwardly down at his beat up sneakers. Laurent frowned again.
"Why do you have to go?" he asked softly, before he could stop himself. The boy looked at him, confused, before giving him a weak smile.
"Well… I have work to do," he said, "and besides, no one likes waking up next to a whore,"
And with that, he turned, and disappeared. A moment later, Laurent heard the front door close, and he was left sitting alone in the empty bedroom, as the sun slowly began to rise in the distance.
Author's Note: So? What did you think? Review and let me know!