Rating/Warnings: M for intense m/m sex and profanity. See the description of the prompt. AU set in contemporary New Orleans, so most of the names are changed.
Disclaimer: Saiyuki and its characters are the creation of Kazuya Minekura, who, along with her publishers, owns the rights to them and profits from them, not me. This is a work of fanfiction. No copyright or other infringement is intended.
Summary: Prostitute!Sanzo given to virgin!Goku as a birthday present.

The House of the Rising Sun

Chapter 1

This chapter was originally written for LiveJournal's Anonymous Saiyuki Kink Meme IV hosted by istumen. With all the backstory hinted at here, it insisted on being converted into a longer fic. Thus, this version is slightly modified from the one originally posted. Thanks to HawkClowd for the awesome beta-fu.

Prompt: Prostitute!Sanzo. Given to virgin!Goku as a birthday present.

Cast of characters (in order of their identification within the story):

Jimmy = Jiroshin
Gordon Smalls = Son Goku
Hakkai Cho = Cho Hakkai
Cory Sanzo = Genjyo Sanzo (from Kouryuu)
Dr. Nielsen = Nii
Connie = Kanzeon Bosatsu
Yvonne=Yaone
Linda=Lirin

Yes, Gojyo's in this, but his name hasn't been revealed yet.

There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one.

A slim dark-haired man and a lanky red-haired man pulled the latest victim through the ornate wooden door in spite of his protests.

"C'mon," the redhead wheedled. "There's no reason to be embarrassed."

The young man they were clutching with the round face and unruly brown hair blushed. The blush made him look even younger and cuter than he already did. "Leggo of me!" he protested, and brushed himself off after freeing his arms.

"I need to see some form of ID," the man at the desk said. He was known as Jimmy, but that wasn't his real name, and he'd been with the House ever since the current owner took over. He wore an old-fashioned outfit and looked like a grandee with long wisps of a moustache growing on both sides of his nose.

Being an old hand at this, Jimmy had sized up the situation right away. A pair of frat brothers were dragging their friend the reluctant virgin into a down at the heels but respectable brothel for some sort of celebration. If he had to, he'd guess it was the kid's birthday. Sometimes such ventures ended well, sometimes they didn't. It wasn't any of his business, as long as they paid the bill and didn't cause any trouble.

One of the two men supporting the prospective client pulled out the kid's wallet and presented his driver's license. It showed his name to be Gordon Smalls and his date of birth to be exactly eighteen years ago to the day. The man at the desk smiled. So far he was batting a thousand.

Then the dark-haired man with the brilliant green eyes and glasses shattered his illusions by saying, "We want to hire your best male prostitute for our friend here."

"It's his birthday, see?" the red-headed one. "We wanna make sure he celebrates it in style."

Jimmy recovered his composure. "That will cost two thousand for the night. Cash or credit?"

The two young men looked at each other. The dark-haired one, who wore an air of debonair sophistication that the other couldn't quite match, slapped an American Express black card in the name of Hakkai Cho on the mahogany desk.

"Sorry, we don't take American Express," Jimmy said, his voice laced with sincere regret. "Mastercard or Visa only." He knew what the black card meant. It meant the man had access to unlimited funds. Hell, he could pull up at the most expensive auto dealership in town and buy any car he wanted off the lot with that card.

The black card was replaced with a gold Mastercard. "Yes, we can process that. If you'd just give me a moment?" Jimmy lifted an eyebrow and gestured to indicate the lounge area where porn magazines rested on the coffee table in front of a well-worn but comfortable couch and chairs.

The House of the Rising Sun always had one or two male prostitutes - they preferred to call them 'companions' - on call. Some only took female customers. Those were mostly outcalls; women usually preferred to avoid entering a house of ill repute. Perhaps they were afraid of receiving pitying looks from the House's female denizens. Some only took male customers and some didn't care as long as the bill was paid. Right now, though, the only male companion on hand who would even deign to have sex with men was the House's problem child, Cory Sanzo.

Despite his surname, he wasn't Spanish, Italian, or Hispanic, or at least if he was he didn't look it. He had shaggy golden hair, a face so pretty it belonged on a woman, and a smoking body. Despite his natural advantages, which should have made him extremely popular and able to command top dollar, Cory was picky about customers and drove those he didn't like away. Management kept him around because he was related to the boss and had a few generous regulars, all men. Apparently, if you caught Cory's fancy, he was a great lay.

Jimmy sighed and dialed Cory's room. He just hoped he'd catch the bastard in a relatively good mood.

Cory picked up the phone on the fifth ring and grunted. "What the fuck do you want me for?"

Jimmy arranged his features and tried to remain calm. It wasn't easy. "Your usual services, sir."

"Cut the 'sir' shit out. I'm sure whoever is sitting in the 'parlor'" - he put as much venom as he could into his voice - "isn't impressed by your calling the merchandise 'ma'am' and 'sir'."

"You have a client."

"No, I don't. Dr. Nielsen isn't scheduled to show up for another two hours and I'm getting ready for him."

It sounded remarkably like he was watching television. Jimmy could hear the sound in the background. Some police procedural, from the sound of it. Cory liked the goriest, grittiest shows to ever grace TV - Criminal Minds, The Sopranos, The Wire, and so on, all of which he owned on DVD, along with Quentin Tarantino's entire oeuvre. He'd complained when the guy who played Grissom left CSI and when they'd killed off that black character. What was his name? Warrick? Though Jimmy supposed that given how scary Dr. Nielsen was, watching shows like that wasn't a bad way to prepare for his presence.

"I am sorry, something else has come up."

"You know, you can solve that easily by taking one of those magazines and going into the bathroom for a few minutes."

Jimmy rolled his eyes heavenwards. Cory and his inappropriate sense of humor. Cory and his need to pick on everyone else to forget his own loneliness. He thought the world owed him something just because his mom had abandoned him as a baby and his dad had been gunned down in front of him when he was almost a teenager. He wasn't the only person in this world to have suffered and he was indulged past bearing. As far as Jimmy was concerned, boo-hoo. Cory needed to grow up.

Jimmy sucked in his breath and continued. "We have a request for a male companion for a boy who just turned eighteen. Shouldn't take long, him being a virgin and all. And he's cute. Wouldn't you like to pop the kid's cherry?"

"What about Nielsen?"

Jimmy sighed. Dr. Nielsen was one of Cory's regulars. He wasn't sure exactly what they did, other than that it was eerily quiet during his visits. No one heard the usual moaning and groaning that usually occurred when Cory had a 'visitor'. When he'd asked Cory about it, the only response he got was 'we're doing a little experimenting', which was a chilling explanation considering the doctor's profession. He'd decided discretion was the better part of valor and had the sense to stop asking.

"We can push his visit back."

"He's not gonna like that," Cory observed.

Jimmy sighed again. "Leave it up to me and Connie to handle, okay?" If he hadn't been afraid of the trouble he'd get into, he'd have told Cory, just like he'd tell any other whore in the place, not to worry his pretty little head about House business. He was being paid for his body, not his mind.

"Fine," Cory snapped. "But leave me the fuck out of it. You explain to him why his favorite plaything isn't available when he wants it."

"Cory," Jimmy said warningly, "leave that to me and Connie. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't need to repeat yourself," Cory said sullenly. Jimmy hung up, thinking about what a selfish brat he was. He just itched to knock some sense into him, though from what he heard Cory might like that just a little bit too much. He also had a fascination with weapons, guns in particular. Jimmy wasn't sure if that had to do with a desire for vengeance or with a fascination bordering on obsession with the instrument that had ended his father's life.

He raised his voice so the men in the waiting area could hear him. "Cory will be down to meet you shortly," he told them with a smile. The two older friends nodded and started talking to Gordon. Giving the kid a pep talk, no doubt.

A few of the House's female residents left or entered on their way out to or back from outside engagements. Jimmy saw the man with the AmEx black card glance appreciatively at Yvonne, who was wearing a blue cheongsam on her way to a party with a client who had a fascination for all things Chinese. Yvonne catered to him by wearing traditional Chinese clothing, styling her long hair in a culturally appropriate way, and deferring to him in the manner of a traditional Chinese wife. The redhead stared appreciatively at lively buxom blonde Linda, who returned shortly after Yvonne left wearing her tightest and skimpiest outfit. The women all had sad stories to tell about how they got there - childhood abuse, neglectful parents, even rape - and would to a woman have smothered Cory with sisterly affection if he'd shown any sign of humanity. As it was, most of them avoided him and his cutting words like the plague.

It was no less than fifteen minutes later when Cory strolled down the richly carpeted stairs to grace them with his presence. The stairs were one of the few parts of the building that remained luxurious and pristine. They only stayed that way because the carpet was replaced every year or so, clients and occupants alike being sadly prone to spilling things on it. The spills were mostly liquor, fortunately.

Jimmy noticed Cory was wearing that weirdass shirt of his. Not that it wasn't becoming; almost anything was becoming on the guy, but bleached white muslin shirts with embroidery - forest green embroidery, no less - around the neckline that looked like they'd been imported from India were passé. It wasn't the Sixties anymore and Cory's haircut was too deliberately choppy to be authentically hippie. For reasons Jimmy had never figured out, Cory wore the shirt at least once a week, especially when Dr. Nielsen was scheduled to show up. Jimmy was just thankful that Dr. Nielsen had agreed to push his visit back a few hours.

When Cory arrived at the front desk, he looked at the group of three in the waiting area, who were the only ones there, and said, "Is he the youngest one in the group?" When Jimmy nodded, he said, "I hope you carded him because I am not having sex with a minor."

"Of course I checked," Jimmy sniffed. "How else would I know it's his birthday?"

"So what am I, his fucking birthday present?"

That described it perfectly. For a moment Jimmy imagined a naked Cory wrapped in wide ribbon and tied with a big bow. He repressed the thought before he could snort at the mental image and said, "Your services are a birthday present from his friends. Let's just leave it at that."

"And why are they still here?"

"I don't know. Perhaps they plan to hire one of the other occupants to while away the time while their friend is with you," Jimmy responded pleasantly.

"So what's his name?"

"Gordon. Gordon Smalls."

"It's extra if you wanna watch," Cory called out as he walked over to them. Jimmy cringed. Some customers liked the suggestive banter, but this kid might be scared away. "Another five hundred per and no touching. You wanna touch, you pay my standard rate."

Hakkai looked horrified at this suggestion and the redhead said, "Our bad, man, we're just here for moral support. We thought maybe we'd get acquainted with some of the ladies over some drinks if ya have any to offer."

"Fine. Make your arrangements with Jimmy over there." Cory turned to the apprehensive-looking boy. "My name's Cory." He gently placed a hand on the kid's hip and he didn't shy away from his touch, which was good. He noticed that underneath the layer of clothing, Gordon was more muscular than he looked. Although Cory found his youthful - almost childlike - appearance a bit offputting, his was good-looking and his body was enticing, which was good, as Cory hadn't expected to be working this early in the evening and wasn't particularly eager or in the mood for another client. His sessions with Dr. Nielsen were always draining and took a lot of preparation beforehand.

Cory guided Gordon upstairs, his arm loosely slung around Gordon's waist and his hand still gently touching his hip. He didn't ask Gordon any questions or talk to him. Asking questions so close to the waiting area and reception desk was considered overly intrusive, as some clients didn't want to talk about themselves or what they wanted out of a session so close to others' prying ears. Cory, who mostly kept to himself, wasn't big on chit-chat anyway. So he generally escorted clients to his room in silence.

His bad mood was also fueled by his dislike for doing virgins. It was hard to tell how secure they were in their sexuality. Some of them seemed to have decided they were gay because they wanted to experiment, or thought it was cool, or mistook not wanting sex at all for not wanting sex with women. After he had one such client freak out on him, he'd become much more careful. He'd check whether they flinched from his touch right away, like he had with the kid, as a test. Nothing too overt - it wouldn't do to scare away a paying customer who really did want it - but enough to make sure that the prospective client could actually tolerate a man's touch. For another thing, he didn't particularly want the responsibility for introducing them to the joys of gay sex. He'd rather they educate themselves on their own time and then come to see him.

He moved his hand and slid it inside the waistband of Gordon's jeans. Gordon shivered a little but didn't pull away or say anything. Instead, he reached out and touched Cory's hair, startling him a little. "Pretty," Gordon said.

"What?" Cory's voice was more surly than he intended, but after all, the kid had startled him.

"'M sorry. I just…like your hair. It's shiny, like the sun."

Cory was beginning to think that the kid, though eighteen, was a bit simple. He tried to make a joke of it. "No one's ever told me that before."

Gordon looked at him earnestly. "'M surprised. It really does shine like the sun."

They arrived at the door to Cory's suite of rooms just as Gordon made that remark. Cory opened the door and they entered the anteroom where he conducted his business. His bedroom - the one he actually slept in - and a small kitchenette lay beyond the anteroom and the bathroom was off to the left.

Cory led Gordon to an old-fashioned velvet couch with an ornate wood frame. For all he knew, it dated from the Victorian era when such things were popular, but you never knew with Connie. It could just be a cheap fake meant to provide atmosphere and impress clients.

After they sat down, Cory angled himself to look at Gordon. "So what do you want me to call you?"

Gordon looked confused. "My name's Gordon. I thought I heard you ask the man at the front desk about it."

Cory put his hand on Gordon's closer knee. Gordon glanced down but didn't say or do anything. "Clients often don't want to use their real names here. And some like to be called by pet names instead."

"Really?" Gordon looked intrigued.

"Yeah, some of them come up with the craziest shit they want you to call them, like 'Spoodles' or 'Holmes'."

"Holmes? Like Sherlock Holmes?"

"No, idi-" Cory stopped before he insulted yet another customer. "No, like John Holmes." When he didn't see a flicker of recognition in Gordon's eye's, he added, helpfully, "The porn star? The one with the fifteen-inch schlong?"

"Oh. Yeah, I think I've heard of him." A pause. "Who wants a fifteen-inch schlong? I mean, wouldn't it hurt?"

Cory laughed. The kid might be an idiot, but he was amusing. "Yeah, I suppose. I wouldn't know. The client who wanted to be called 'Holmes' must have been doing it to boost his ego.

"So do you want me to call you Gordon? Or do you have a nickname?"

"My folks call me Gordy, but that makes me feel like a little kid. Gordon's fine."

Cory leaned forward to kiss him. Kissing wasn't a normal part of his repertoire, but he figured it was necessary with a virgin. They usually had stars in their eyes and thoughts of romance in their hearts, although as his aunt Connie was fond of saying, "This business is about fucking, not about fucking love stories." That, and "Never fall in love with a client." Gordon's eyes fluttered closed and he hesitated at first, then parted his lips just enough to let Cory's tongue in. Cory explored Gordon's mouth thoroughly. Gordon panted but was too shy to use his own tongue.

Cory pulled back a little, wrapping his hands around Gordon's neck and nuzzling. Inwardly he felt like gagging but he'd found that half or more of taking a man's virginity consisted of a snow job worthy of a con artist. He whispered, "Act like you're happy to have my tongue in your mouth."

"How do I do that?" Gordon asked, seemingly genuinely puzzled.

"Use your tongue too, you mor--" Cory stopped himself again. He had a terrible habit of insulting people that he'd been unable to shed. "Use your tongue, kid," he concluded lamely.

When he leaned forward to try again, he found that Gordon was a natural at taking instruction if it was presented to him simply enough. This kiss was far deeper and more passionate. They battled for dominance with their tongues and damn it if Gordon didn't ultimately win, leaving Cory almost breathless. Gordon reversed their momentum enough that when Cory broke the kiss, Gordon was the one leaning forward and was halfway on top of Cory. Cory wasn't exactly sure how that had happened.

Cory slid out from underneath Gordon and sat up, unconsciously wiping his kiss-moistened mouth with the back of his hand. "Is there anything you especially want to do or definitely don't want to do, Gordon?"

Gordon looked at him. "I've known I like boys better than girls for a long time, but I haven't gotten very far. I'm from a small town on the Mississippi and there's no gay bars or clubs or anything there and boatloads of prejudice. My parents don't even know I'm gay. They just think I'm savin' myself for the right girl."

He cracked a wistful smile that might have broken Cory's heart if he had one. As it was, it made it melt, just a little. Given the kid's obvious inexperience, this was likely to last longer than Jimmy expected. Gordon might pop off at any time given the right stimulation; he knew virgins who'd come just from a deep kiss, but he didn't think Gordon would want to stop there.

"I wanna go all the way. I know" - here he swallowed, painfully - "it might be a bit painful." He whispered, "Jus' make it nice, okay? I want this to be a good memory."

Damn, the kid was tugging at his heartstrings, or what passed for them. Cory leaned forward and thrust his tongue into Gordon's mouth again. Cory wrapped his arms around the back of Gordon's neck, leaning forward and pulling Gordon closer. Gordon wrapped his arms around Cory's back so that Cory was half-sitting on Gordon's legs, which wasn't terribly comfortable for him, nor was it likely to be comfortable for the significantly smaller Gordon.

Cory broke away, slightly breathless. The kid was obviously turned on, though not so much so that Cory thought he was in danger of coming already.

Sliding to the floor, Cory unzipped Gordon's pants, pulled his underwear down, and pulled his cock out. Gordon's eyes, already impossibly wide and round, got even wider and rounder as Cory licked the wayward trickle of precum, tracing it back to its source. Next, he languidly but thoroughly explored the head with his tongue, causing Gordon to lay back, eyes closed, gasping and gripping the sofa for dear life.

"Ahh," Gordon panted, "I'm gonna come soon if you keep doin' that."

Cory looked up at him with half-closed eyes. Gordon felt his heart beating wildly. What was it about the man's droopy eyes and the way he was looking at him that made him so seductive and desirable?

Barely missing a beat as he held the base of Gordon's cock and slid it in and out of his mouth, Cory said, "It's -hah - okay if you - hah - come." Given his age and inexperience, he figured it wouldn't take much for Gordon to get hard again.

He felt Gordon's cock thrust harder and pulse as Gordon's wet gooey come squirted into his mouth while Gordon moaned. He tasted the bitterness of it as it slid down his throat.

Gordon's eyes were wide as saucers once more. "Wow," he said. "Does it really taste that good? 'Coz I licked a little of it once after I, uh, beat off and it was real sour."

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Cory said, "It takes practice." He'd had lots of practice. He was just a whore, after all. "You want to kiss? It might get you more used to the taste."

He couldn't believe he was giving the kid advice, for fuck's sake. He needed to remember that this was just another client, just another face, another fuck.

Gordon hesitated.

"You don't have to--" Cory began, backtracking, until Gordon reached down, dragged him off the floor, and crushed their lips together in a kiss that once again left Cory breathless.

"That was real nice," Gordon said dreamily. "I never had a blow job before."

Cory made an incredulous noise and Gordon shrugged. "What can I say? "M from a really small town. It's not like I could ever ask someone to do that for me. An' all my friends here are straight."

Cory contented himself with raising an eyebrow and figured now was time to move toward the main event. He pulled Gordon's pants and underwear all the way off and threw them on the couch. Getting up, he pulled Gordon to his feet and expertly stripped him of his t-shirt with the brand name logo, tossing it on the pile of clothes as well.

Gripping Gordon's hands, he walked backwards while guiding Gordon to the bed in the anteroom's back corner. This wasn't as impressive as it appeared. He had so much practice walking backwards while guiding clients to the well-used bed that he knew exactly how many steps away it was from the couch. It was fucking amazing he and his clients hadn't worn a path in the carpet.

Once he arrived at the edge of the bed, he sat and pulled Gordon onto his lap. With Gordon's awkward help, he divested himself of the his tunic and jeans and tossed them off to the side onto the floor. He could pick them up later.

Gordon seemed slightly awed, and definitely aroused, when he discovered that Cory hadn't been wearing any underwear. Cory's nakedness revealed that he was as erect and as hard as Gordon had been before the blow job. That alone was enough to get another rise out of Gordon.

Now that they were both naked, Cory lay back, pulling Gordon down on top of him. They kissed again, their erections rubbing against each other. Then Cory rolled over, taking Gordon with him, so he wound up on top of Gordon. He rose to his hands and knees in order to search for the lube and matches in the drawer of the cabinet next to the bed. After finding them, he lit a few candles and turned the lights off with the nearby dimmer switch.

Gordon's hands roamed over Cory's body when he sat down again after placing the lube within arm's reach on the bed. Cory returned the favor, circling each nipple with a finger and then following that up by teasing and tweaking the nubs. He heard Gordon's hissing intake of breath each time he did that. Eventually tiring of that, he licked and kissed his way down to the kid's groin.

As he went, he admired the kid's musculature. For someone so short and youthful - even childish - looking, he was well muscled and buff. Not so much so that he looked like a body builder or someone on steroids, but enough to suggest that he was an athlete or worked out a lot for other reasons. His skin was lightly tanned and glowed golden-brown, and his eyes were almost golden.

For some reason Cory asked, "Do you play sports?" He didn't normally display such a personal interest in his clients, though if they wanted to talk about themselves he usually at least pretended to listen. He wasn't exactly sure why he was taking the initiative now.

"Yeah, 'm on the wrestling team," Gordon admitted.

Cory found himself asking, "What weight class?" and Gordon said "Welterweight".

Cory would have to keep that in mind. He didn't think Gordon was the type to use any wrestling holds on him, but you never knew. The kid was probably stronger than he looked.

Cory moved down further on the bed so Gordon's behind was easy to reach. "Gordon," he said to get his attention.

"Yeah, Cory?"

Clients didn't often call him by name like that. Though he always gave them his name to create the illusion of a personal connection and so they knew who to ask for on future visits, most clients acted as if he were just some anonymous collection of body parts attached to a pretty face. Being called by name by this well-toned athlete made his cock twitch. Fuck, he was turning into a real pussy if that's all it took to turn him on.

"Just to warn you, so you don't freak out, I'm going to use my tongue on you first, then fingers coated with lubricant. Are you okay with that? It means we can't kiss anymore." Of course, if he weren't a virgin, he wouldn't have been kissing him in the first place.

"Y-yeah, if you think it's best," the kid replied, blushing. He looked a little apprehensive, though. He probably thought the idea of someone putting his tongue ithere/i was a little gross.

He wound up draping Gordon's legs over his shoulders and back while his tongue moved closer and closer to its goal, finally darting inside. Gordon shivered and groaned as Cory's tongue delved deeper. He would never have expected it to feel as sensual or stimulating as it did. For good measure, Cory stroked his perineum and balls, causing Gordon to buck and moan wantonly.

"S-s-stop," Gordon protested. "I'm gonna--"

Cory squeezed the base of Gordon's penis. He'd been enjoying Gordon's responsiveness even though the bucking made everything more difficult. He'd forgotten how eager virgins could be; some of his clients were extremely jaded.

"Th-thanks," Gordon stammered now that he wasn't in imminent danger of coming again before being deflowered.

Cory quickly retrieved the lube and began prepping him. He inserted one lube-slicked finger and after giving Gordon time to get used to it, began moving it in and out, slowly at first, then more quickly, until Gordon's pants threatened to turn into moans. He repeated the process with two more fingers before he felt Gordon was sufficiently prepared for what was to come and coated his own cock with lube.

Cory pulled himself toward the top of the bed, hovering over Gordon. As he stroked Gordon's side, he said, "Get up on all fours."

"W-why?" Gordon asked. "Can't I see your face while we're, ya know, doin' it?"

A hopeless romantic. He should have known.

"It's easier from behind, especially for a first-timer," Cory matter-of-factly explained.

Gordon sat up and looked at him, a fierce look in his eyes. "'M pretty athletic and flexible. Bein' doubled over a little bit's not gonna bother me."

Gordon wasn't acting like a shy virgin anymore and Cory felt less like a jaded plaything than usual. "They say the customer's always right," he said as he nearly tackled Gordon, pushing him down onto his back.

Gordon spread his legs. Cory knelt between them, supporting himself with his hands placed on either side of Gordon's torso, and slowly pushed into him. He found he had to go slow for his own sake because Gordon's enveloping tautness was stimulating him in a way he hadn't been in a long time.

He'd done this so often for so long that he didn't ejaculate or orgasm every time. He figured what was important was whether the client did, not whether he did, and it was rare for a client to make an issue out of it. The few who did were either egotistical pricks who needed their partners to come to validate their sexual prowess or were hung up about their partner's enjoyment. There was only so much pretending he could stand to do, so he didn't mind either handing these few over to more congenial and responsive colleagues or seeing their hindquarters as they left the establishment for good with his epithets ringing in their ears. Connie and Jimmy tched over the latter but he didn't care. Connie would let him stay around as long as he had a few steady good-paying gigs.

At first Gordon's muscles were tense, his face was scrunched up, and Cory could tell he was holding his breath to prevent himself from voicing his discomfort, if not outright pain. He stroked Gordon's cheek with his right hand and asked, "You okay?

Gordon smiled tightly and said, "Yeah, 'm good," even though it burned. It wasn't so bad, though; he figured he could live through it. He wrapped his legs around Cory's waist, pushing him even deeper inside. He hadn't lied about his flexibility. Cory felt the head of his cock brushing up against the knot of nerves buried deep inside that made anal sex worthwhile and Gordon's breath hitched in a way that signaled pleasure, not pain.

Just as Cory noticed the tension in Gordon's muscles easing, Gordon added, "Ya can move now." Cory took him at his word and withdrew until only the tip was still inside Gordon's taut ass. He slowly pushed back in and pulled out again carefully. For some reason, it mattered to him that he not hurt this kid even though he was a romantic fool destined to have his heart broken.

At least, not hurting him mattered until Gordon outright whined, "C'mon, fuck me already!" The kid's use of profanity made Cory's dick twitch inside him, causing his breath to hitch again. Looking more closely, Cory noticed that Gordon's eyes had darkened with lust so that all that was visible of his irises was a thin band of gold around black pupils.

Gordon bit his lip in concentration as their eyes met. He smiled and reached up to stroke Cory's cheek. Cory captured a couple of wandering fingers in his mouth and moved his head so they slid in and out of his mouth in a lewd and suggestive manner while keeping his gaze fixed on Gordon.

Heat rose in Gordon's face as a blush bloomed over his cheeks. The edges of Cory's thin lips quirked up slightly in what could almost be described as a smile and his eyes, which were so deep blue they almost looked purple, sparkled with mischief, as he obeyed Gordon's command.

Gordon was taken aback at the abrupt change. Cory went from being leisurely and laid back to setting a fast and unrelenting pace. Each thrust was more insistent than the last and only the steady rhythm kept Gordon from going completely crazy. "Fuckfuckfuck" he panted.

Cory was also panting as a result of the strain of supporting himself with his arms so as not to crush Gordon. He was starting to get uncomfortably warm; he could feel drops of sweat forming on his scalp and trickling down his neck and forehead.

Pressure built as their skin formed a sticky seal that was then broken with a slick squeak and Gordon felt Cory's balls slapping against his inner thighs near where Cory was fucking him senseless. The movement and contact between their pelvises was enough to produce a pleasurable friction against Gordon's cock and balls. He'd expected this to feel more like whacking off with the added feature of someone (or something) being inside him but it felt entirely different, and much better, to be doing this with a flesh and blood person. Cory, for his part, didn't necessarily expect to get off when he was with a client. So the imminent balls-heavy apex of their arousal was a revelation to both of them.

Just as he felt he couldn't take any more of the sweet yet sometimes painful sensation caused by having Cory's dick shoved up his ass, hitting that sweet spot, and the weight of Cory's pelvis massaging his dick, Gordon's climax exploded while he moaned Cory's name. Anything that caused him to nearly pass out with a flashes of light in the darkness could really only be compared to fireworks. He let go of the fierce grip his hands and legs had on Cory and collapsed back on the pillow under his head, panting as if he'd been running laps.

Cory had to work hard to gain the leverage and friction he'd enjoyed when Gordon was wrapped around his body, but he was close enough now that he soon experienced his own climax. Sated and nearly completely wrung out, he panted while he collected himself, slowly eased out of Gordon, and collapsed off to Gordon's side.

Gordon felt the warm come shooting into him and dribbling out slightly because he had his feet on the bed instead of wrapped around Cory. It made him feel wickedly depraved to have caused another man's orgasm and to have the result of that orgasm pooling inside him and trickling down his thighs.

Instead of walking to the bathroom and bringing back a wet warm washcloth to clean them up with, as he usually did, Cory rolled onto his side, propped up on his elbow and facing Gordon. He traced Gordon's face with the index finger of his other hand.

Gordon returned the favor, running his finger down and across Cory's face. "That was nice," Gordon sighed happily. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Happy birthday."

Gordon propped himself up on his elbow and looked around. "That sofa reminds me of my Aunt Jane's. She lives not too far from here."

Cory wasn't paying much attention to the words - he was spending his time soaking in how Gordon's sweat-slicked skin looked instead - but he tossed the conversational ball back, asking, "So where does she live?"

"In Vacherie." [1]

Cory sat up as though he'd been shot. The scar from the flesh wound he'd received the night his father had been killed right before his eyes suddenly ached. "Shit, I don't believe it. My dad grew up in Vacherie. We used to spend summers there at his parents' house. Your aunt's last name isn't Smith, by any chance?"

"Yeah, it is. I spent most of my summers at her place." Gordon frowned. "Wait. What's your last name?"

"Sanzo."

"Wait." Now it was Gordon's turn to sit bolt upright. "I remember your grandparents. An' I think I remember ya, although ya were a lot older 'n me. Remember rescuing a kid who was trapped in a cave by the river that was starting to flood? That was me!"

Cory looked at him in outright amazement. "That was you? You're shitting me!" He leaned back, face scrunched up, trying to remembering what the kid had looked like. Short, shaggy brown hair, round face, button eyes. Although he couldn't definitively say they were the same people, it was certainly possible.

In the meantime, Gordon was conducting a similar assessment. The older boy who rescued him had been blond and pretty, almost willowy. If he weren't as strong and muscular as he was, the kids would have called him girly. As it was, things were said about him behind his back, but never to his face. It certainly could be the same person.

"It's a small world, ain't it?" Gordon asked, clasping his hands behind his head. "Ya don't know how grateful I was that you found me and rescued me. I guess we were meant ta run into each other again."

And though from any other lips these words would have Cory thinking 'stalker', in Gordon's mouth they just sounded welcoming and warm.

Cory was beginning to think about grabbing a post-coital smoke when his phone rang. He picked it up with the shocked recollection that Dr. Nielsen was due to arrive soon, and was surprised to find, when he looked at the clock, that it was already time for the rescheduled appointment. Jimmy was on the other end of the line to tell him the good doctor was there.

"Shit," Cory said as he slammed the phone down. "You need to get going. I have someone else waiting for me."

"In a lot of demand, huh?" Gordon said softly, and somehow the plaintive tone in his voice really got to Cory. He wrapped his arms around Gordon and lightly kissed him on the forehead. "Just enough to keep me employed here, actually," he said. "But I really enjoyed myself with you.."

He offered to wipe Gordon down, but Gordon waved him away, wanting to keep the evidence of their union as long as possible even though it was sticky and would probably dry uncomfortably. It didn't feel like he'd lost his virginity; it felt more like he'd gained something. He didn't mind that it made him smell like semen and sex. If he could, if it were socially acceptable, he'd shout from the rooftops that he'd been laid by the very same person who'd rescued a confused and scared kid from a watery cave.

Cory said, "I have to take a quick shower. You understand, don't you?"

Gordon's insides ached at the thought that the evidence of their love-making was going to be washed off of Cory's body, but he understood that Cory's next client might not appreciate smelling or feeling his previous one's spend on his skin. "I'd like ta come back an' see ya again," Gordon said as he pulled his clothes back on.

Cory smiled. "I'd like that. Make an appointment with Jimmy. He handles the schedule." Cory wondered about the confident statement, though. He didn't think Gordon or his parents were well off enough to pay for more visits. Would his frat brother pay again? And if he did, what did that say about his relationship with Gordon? In his experience, rich people didn't pay for poorer people's pleasures without strings being attached.

Besides, though he was loath to admit it even to himself, Cory wanted to see Gordon again even if he weren't being paid for it. It wasn't unheard of for the House's inmates to have outside lovers, even boyfriends or girlfriends, although they were expected to do that on their own time away from clients' prying eyes and ears. He'd never brought anyone to the single bed in his bedroom before. There was always a first time, he supposed

"Maybe ya can show me how to give a blow job," Gordon said happily. "An' maybe next time around I can fuck ya."

Cory almost dropped the washcloth on the floor. If he'd been drinking anything, he'd have choked on it. What the hell? Clients didn't usually pay him to learn how to give head or how to fuck a man. Receiving a blow job had never been part of the tricks of the trade, and clients didn't need to be taught how to fuck him over. The thought of furthering Gordon's education, far from irritating him as it had when he'd first found out he'd be servicing a virgin, enticed him, though. Excited him, even.

He shooed Gordon out the door before he could drop any more bombshells and render him completely incapable of satisfying Dr. Nielsen's whims. Fuck, the reason he'd rescued that kid was because he could hear him crying out for help. Apparently it was some sort of permanent thing he wasn't meant to escape.

He disappeared into the bathroom and turned the shower on nearly as hot as it would go and tried to get his mind back where it had been two hours ago before Jimmy had called him to tell him about his unexpected customer.

Oh mother, tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun.

[1] Vacherie is a real place and is situated along the Mississippi River a short ways upriver from New Orleans. I have no idea if there are any caves there, though. I picked it more because of the name and location than any knowledge about its topography.

A/N - "The House of the Rising Sun" was the first title that came to mind and I ran with it despite the horrible pun. I wrote this to a partial soundtrack of the Animals' version of that song and some of the lyrics are reprinted here. Fortunately, since it's a folk song, they're in the public domain.

It's often assumed that the House referred to is a house of prostitution, but based on lyrics I haven't quoted here, it could also be a gambling hall or a prison. We don't know for sure.

Next chapter: We meet Dr. Nielsen and find out what Gordon's friends have been up to in his absence.