For Your Whore
Name me innocent,
Claim me degrading,
Tame me never.
Hard and harsh the story of his sex life and normal life, pretty impressive for a fourteen-year-old American boy. Lawrence indolently packed some necessities for his trip to Tokyo, he'd be free, and frankly Lawr was excited, even though this was actually a business trip; Dallas had arranged for him to meet with a client. Even if it was just for a week and he would be forced to come back, nonetheless he was content with his morsel of freedom. Besides he was tired of the idealistic ways of the United States. America has no culture, save for fast food restaurants, and repulsive speaking habits (specifically the massive use of profanity). Not that he didn't love his country, cause he adored the craziness within it, where else can you have liberty like the United States?
One, two, skip a few, ninety-nine, one-hundred. It was around six o' clock when Lawr arrived at the Los Angeles airport, he had already gone through the antagonizing lines, the baggage, the tickets, all the boring drab that happened before you got onto a plane. A small blare from his headphones, as he lost himself in lyrics and melody.
Sometimes I think I'm scared,
Sometimes I know,
I feel like making love,
Sometimes I don't…
Metal ballads were always his favorite, soothing, some sort of lingering despair within them, like the cry of a beast. Twelve hours till liberty, he'd sleep half of the time, and maybe a little more, dream a little dream of his true promise land.
Lawr stepped foot on the alien country, but before he had reached this place the flight made a stop at Hawaii, and he was given a mere three hours to wander about the lavish airport, he had purchased a pack of gum, and aimlessly meandered about the place, mostly staying put at the vast glass windows that overlooked the city of Honolulu, and he even witnessed the renowned hula dancers, with their luscious tanned skin, and ebony hair color, dyed naturally a dark brown from the hands of mother nature known as the sunlight, and their movements were captivating, smooth, not a step out of place.
Yes, but returning to the scene at hand, he was monitoring the unfamiliar country with the eyes of a newborn, over to his right stood a Japanese family, from what he could discern it seemed that the father had returned from a business trip in America, ironically he was the same man he had sat next to on the voyage to Tokyo, a stolid smile traveled unto his lips, his eyes still bearing that naught reflection. The hustle of the area made it unclear to think straight and he found himself lost, knowing little Japanese he was baffled as he heard them speak in such a fast pace. Reaching in his back pocket for the last resort he pulled out a small, nifty book of simple Japanese phrases. He skimmed over it, looking for ways to say, "Hello," or, "Can you help me find the bathroom?" he never knew it would be this difficult to tread through an airport.
With a puff of air he blew the strand of hair shielding his eyes, to his left he heard the laughs of a group of three Japanese girls dressed in their matching school uniform, socks pulled up to their high calves, and plaid skirts he glanced their way, flashing a remarkably beautiful smile, a trait that was mandatory for any prostitute with real experience.
Timidly the girls approached him, "You are lost?" a single girl asked with that Japanese accent set densely in her soprano pitched voice.
"Hai," he paused, that's all Lawr had managed to read, he was so screwed.
The girls took note at his mispronunciation and giggled together once again, "No, we know English little," the same girl announced the grammar apparently misplaced.
"So you American?" asked another girl, her hair pulled up in high pigtails, blue ribbons adorning the tie, "You are handsome," it would take some time to adjust to their accents, not to be rude but he could barely distinguish what they were saying.
Yeah, he did get that compliment a lot but Lawrence would show his civility, after all not all Americans are as arrogant as the other countries insist, "Yes, thank-you," he bowed.
The girls gladly escorted Lawr through the hectic airport, taking him to the main drag where all the buses and cars arrived to pick up and drop off passengers. He thanked them and they gave him their numbers and addresses, messily, he stuffed the crinkled papers into his jean pocket. His constant delving eyes searched for a detection of his client, he was then whisked away by his elbow from a stranger.
"Come with me," commanded the stranger.
Lawrence defiantly took his own arm back, rubbing the sore spot in which he was clutched, "Are you--?"
The man who had tried a sort of attempt at kidnap was clad in a normal dark brown business suit along with a brief case, his hair slicked back into with perfection, no strand out of place, his eyes a stolid brown, his face set in a serious notion, "Yes and no, I'm not the one you'll be serving under, I'm your client's assistant, Rikuo Honda," he paused and straightened out his tie to make him a bit more presentable, "Let me lay the ground rules down for you, my boss has meetings during the day and other work to tend to, so sessions will begin 10:00 p.m. on the dot, you are free to roam and search Tokyo during the day with a chaperone at hand, of course, and will be given a 100,000 yen allowance a day to use as you wish, but for now let's settle get you settled at the suite."
He sighed, nodded, grabbed his bags and other essentials, then followed Mr. Honda to the black limousine, yet before he could enter he was deterred. Someone had caught his eye. Someone had a beautiful aura around them. A beautiful man, a young man, had caught his gaze. A man who didn't seem to fit amongst his peers, a student he assumed from the outfit. His hair was disheveled in a vibrant mess of mahogany, his eyes were a deadly, secretive shade dark brown flecks of light brown adding vibrancy, he was disguised behind glasses that added a sexual intellect he yearned for. He blew him a kiss, his motions carnally drenched. Lawrence made it a goal, a goal to find this beautiful man, to claim him, and to go on his own little escapade, where climax was rampant.
A/N: I feel terrible for not writing anything but not really, this was intended to be longer but I was figured forget it, half of the people reading this probably haven't even heard of Boys Next Door. This is my dedication to one of my favorite Kaori Yuki characters, Lawr. Contents might get a bit more…rated R-ish so if you find sexual situations and/or are homophobic I recommend you stop at this chapter. I also recommend you go find the scanlation to Boys Next Door; it's the most tragic manga I've ever read, I got real emotional, and it even incited a few tears.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Lawr, or the lyrics used in this chapter which was Loving the Alien by Velvet Revolver--it's brings me great woe to tell you this.
