Love and Lust

Rating: Definite M (please see warnings before reading)

Warnings: Partial AU/non-con, (male) prostitution, mentions of child prostitution, sex, rape, violence, and (obviously) darker themes

Disclaimer: I don't own the Knight and Rogue series, and that's probably for the best since I only borrowed it for a second, and look what I did to it.

I'm still (slowly) working on my other Knight and Rogue story, but I really liked this idea and couldn't get it out of my head until I wrote it. And I wanted to write something on the risqué side as per my usual. Takes place at the end of the first book. Though the universe, story, ect. pretty much remains the same, I added a fairly big AU aspect as the main theme of the story in that I made Fisk a hooker (hell, yeah I did) and subsequently have changed aspects of his past surrounding that. Everything else is the same. Enjoy(?)

"I'll give you six silver roundels and that's the most I'm willing to pay."

"One gold roundel is as low as I'm going. It's more then fair, and you know it. Take it or leave it."

"I've got a family to feed, you know", the man crossed his arms stubbornly, but the lecherous look in his eyes as he looked Fisk up and down was enough to say he would soon cave. That family he was so concerned about no doubt had no knowledge of his interest in underage male whores. Well, just barely underage at seventeen (which had been making it harder to find buyers recently), but still.

After a moment of silence the man let out an exaggerated sigh, shoulders drooping as a signal that he finally gave in. Not that it was much to give in to. One gold roundel really was a more then reasonable price for this sort of thing, but this fine man apparently wasn't as loose with his wallet as he was with his sex life. Pity how it always seemed to work out that way. Though if perverts like him paid too much, it would be a lot harder to keep their infidelity a secret, so it probably made sense.

The fact that it made sense didn't mean the rogue had to like it, but money was growing tight again and sometimes you just didn't have a choice. The weather had started to grow cold, too cold to camp out, and they'd been having to stay in inns every night. Fisk's card trick scheme was usually enough to get the money they needed, but when it wasn't, whoring himself out had worked as a suitable supplement. Whether or not it was the only option was… debatable, but it was relatively easy money and as they say, old habits die hard. Needless to say, Michael knew nothing about it, and the rogue planned on keeping it that way, knowing he would no doubt object.

It wasn't as if Fisk was proud of it either. Accustomed to it, yes. Proud, no. But sometimes… sometimes you just had to do things regardless of how you felt about them. He didn't think Michael would understand, which is exactly why he had kept it from him. Even with all the things his employer already knew about part of his not so squeaky clean lifestyle, this was the one of the few details of his past- running into present- he had managed to keep completely hidden. Even despite the various occasions he had already put it into practice during their time together, sneaking off when his companion was asleep or otherwise occupied for these little business trysts. Asleep this time, in their room upstairs.

The inn they were staying at was on the less reputable side, and also functioned as a bar which stayed serving late into the night who's patrons were just as disreputable, making the perfect customers for this sort of trade. The man hadn't been hard to pick out, as he had already been leering rather unashamedly before Fisk had even pronounced himself for sale. The man appeared to be somewhere around late middle age, fairly well kept, though not very good looking (the fiendish leer that seemed to be permanently plastered to his face did little to help), and more then a little bit overweight. Not someone you would typically pick as a lover unless money was being exchanged (too bad for whatever woman had gotten stuck marrying him). All in all, about the average mark.

The money quickly exchanged hands, and Fisk was glad at least that he hadn't been forced to argue to be paid up front this time. Sometimes men would insist on waiting until after and try to skip out on payment or renegotiate the amount on some claim of 'unsatisfactory service'. It had been a lot worse when he was younger, his buyers probably thinking him naïve enough to be easily swindled, and the higher price- for youth was everything in this business- had no doubt been all the more incentive.

Pocketing the soon to be well earned gold, Fisk discreetly as possible- though none of the few other occupants of the room seemed overly interested in their actions- followed the man upstairs and into a room at the end of the hall. The inn wasn't all that full, and the rogue estimated about half the rooms leading to it were unoccupied, though it still wasn't quite as far away from his own room as he would have liked. The man had probably asked for an end room on purpose for the sake of privacy. Of course, specifically asking for extra privacy was about the same as shouting out that you were planning on doing something scandalous and/or illegal, but Fisk kept that opinion to himself as it wouldn't really do either or them any good now. And it wasn't as if he wanted anyone in the other rooms hearing. Especially not a certain someone… He tried to rid himself of intrusive thoughts of his companion as the man shut the door behind them.

"So where would you like to start…?" Fisk's voice took on a well-practiced seductive tone as he slowly began undressing. He'd long since learned the importance and subtle art of the lead up, making an effort to take his time shedding each layer. This sort of light teasing was something that usually got men like these off, but apparently this one wasn't quite so patient.

The man made his way across the room to him in a few swift strides, and before Fisk could protest, roughly tore his shirt the rest of the way open. A couple buttons clattered to the floor, by his luck likely rolling under a piece of furniture or into some crevice never to be seen again.

"On your knees", the man growled lowly, roughly shoving the rogue down even as he willingly tried to comply with the command. It was more then clear what he wanted…

Some men were nervous about this sort of thing, having to be coaxed into it with foreplay. Old creepy here obviously was not one of them. Looked like it would be straight to business this time. That was fine too. Simpler, less time consuming.

There was the clinking sound of metal on metal as the man undid his belt and lowered his trousers. He already had a full- if not all that impressive- hard on. Which was good. Less time needed to get him off that way. And if he was that quick to get aroused, hopefully he would be quick to finish as well.

"Suck", the man commanded getting straight to the point.

Fisk didn't hesitate. He'd done this enough times to get past the initial wave of revulsion at the act, just as he'd learned to suppress his body's automatic gag reflex when the thing went down his throat. He focused on relaxing his throat muscles, allowing it to slip all the way in, his tongue running against it as it went down.

He pulled back with the practiced slowness of a well trained whore, before leisurely running his tongue from the shaft to the tip, licking up some of the pre-cum leaking out the slit.

The man shuddered and groaned above him, and the rogue felt two calloused hands fist rather painfully in his hair.

Fisk parted his lips, taking the man's length in once more, managing only a muffled grunt of surprise as the hands clutching the back of his head violently yanked him further forward, choking him in his unprepared state. He felt his throat involuntarily constrict as he gagged around the sudden intrusion. Fisk managed to recover quickly, relaxing his throat once more, and thankful that the stinging threat of tears went away along with the gagging.

It was more then a little disconcerting how much more the man seemed to be enjoying himself whilst causing him such discomfort.

'You're just lucky I didn't bite you…' the rogue thought bitterly.

Still clutching onto his head, the man began to aggressively shove himself in and out. This one really seemed to like it rough. Which was more then a little worrisome. Willingly subjecting himself to this was starting to seem like a bad choice. Although selling yourself to some strange pervert you knew nothing about was very seldom a 'good' or more precisely 'safe' choice.

The man had himself most of the way in when he came, but pulled out quickly enough to let a good bit of the spray hit Fisk in the face.

The rogue swallowed all of the semen that had been deposited into his mouth almost without thinking, but before he could bring a hand to try to wipe away the cum dripping from his face, found himself being violently thrown to the floor.

The man must have had a decent amount of muscle under his fat with the strength behind the action. Fisk couldn't help letting out a sharp cry as his head slammed against the edge of the bed with dizzying force. Yes, it was becoming all too apparent that this had most certainly been a bad choice. As was one of the many dangers of this line of work. Most times you just had to have unpleasant sex with an unattractive stranger. Sometimes said stranger was an insane sadist and tried to kill you.

It wasn't the first time a client had gotten violent. This sort of thing happened all the time, surprisingly less to female prostitutes since they typically worked in brothels which offered more security. Male whores however usually being children or teenagers were not strictly legal and thus worked in relative secret offering them less protection. Not to mention making it impossible for them to go to the law with any wrongs done by clients.

Although all the times it had happened before had been close calls, and Fisk hazily started weighing the pros and cons of calling for help.

He was still seeing stars from the blow to the head when the man pinned him. The bastard was smiling. Thoughts of fulfillment of paid services were all but out the window at this point in favor of wishing to live to tomorrow (the blow job alone was good enough for the meager payment anyway), and Fisk struggled wholeheartedly against his client's grip. The amount of fight he managed to put up must have caught the man off guard because even in his still slightly stunned state and disadvantageous position, the rogue managed to throw him off. His good fortune (if you could call it that) didn't last for long though as he hardly had time to get to his feet before the man gained back control, gripping him firmly by the arms and slamming him hard against the wall.

A small third-rate painting that had been hanging rather precariously crashed to the floor with the action, making a racket that Fisk couldn't decide whether was a good or a bad thing.

"I paid for you, you filthy whore, and you're gonna take whatever I give you, got it?"

No, but it wasn't as if he had much choice in the matter. Apparently expecting a response, the man slammed him against the wall again even harder, repeating the tail end of his question, but more forcefully this time.

Spitting in the bastard's face was an appealing option. But one that would only result in more pain and would gain precious little other then a very brief sense of satisfaction. Refusing him would do no good. Gritting his teeth, not trusting himself to speak nor knowing if he even could, Fisk nodded. He was shaking and could feel his heart racing. There were some things you never got used to.

The man sneered, and the rogue was with little gentleness shoved onto the bed. The man followed, straddling him pinning him to the bed. Those rough hands undid his belt, before roughly yanking his shoes, then pants off, casually tossing them on the floor. His shirt though unbuttoned was still on, the only item of clothing he now wore.

Fisk's body stiffened and he closed his eyes as he felt a tongue trail across his bare chest. He heard the man laugh lowly. And then his legs were being spread apart. He closed his eyes tighter, but could do little to brace himself for the pain that followed.

Even no longer being a virgin, being entered completely unprepared was still excruciatingly painful. The agonized cry that tore from the rogue's lips apparently angered the man, for he yelled at him to shut up, accompanying the command with painfully tightening his grip on his legs which he had lifted high to accommodate his entry.

The man went ruthlessly hard and fast, taking no consideration for his lay's comfort. Fisk could do nothing to quiet his own cries and whimpers that came with each new thrust, which only seemed to serve in making the man's assault even rougher. His fists were bunched tightly in the blankets at his side in a vain attempt to fight through the pain. He was passively aware that tears had started to drip down his cheeks and around the same time he felt warm liquid which was no doubt blood began leaking from his entrance from the abuse it was taking. He wished he could not identify the feeling so quickly, wished that all of this was not so familiar that it brought back flashes of memories that he had fought years to suppress, or that the strong familiarity could at least make it easier to take, but it didn't.

The man continued to pound in and out with the brutal voracity of only the truly sexually depraved, and had taken to shouting loud, crude jeers at the prone body underneath him-as if the situation had not been unpleasant enough. All Fisk could do was lay back and hope it would be over soon. The hot seed finally spilling into him was a relief and blessing. He just hoped the man was not some sort of insatiable maniac and would be satisfied now after having finished a second time.

He didn't get the chance to find out however, as it was just then, before the man had even pulled out, that the door was forced open with a loud crash. Fisk's eyes flew open at the sound, and immediately his stomach seemed to drop.

The rogue would have preferred anyone else, even a sheriff more then likely to lock him up for illegal prostitution while letting the client/rapist go with little more then a slap on the wrists (which had actually happened before).

Anyone but his current savior who was the very last person he wanted to see this, and who was now staring shocked wide-eyed in the doorway taking in the whole damn thing.

Michael…

Since there's only one other M rated K'n'R fic, and mine's all graphic and rapey and I made one of our beloved characters a whore I was a bit nervous about posting it since I'm not sure what kind of reaction it'll get, and actually considered not… but… Well, with so few fics for this series, it felt wrong to not post something I wrote for it. So… good? Bad? Please be gentle because I'm a delicate little flower. Ha ha… Constructive criticism is welcome though.

Special thank you to P3Dude for helping me out a lot with this story!

This was going to be a oneshot, but it just seemed to cut off nicely there. Other half and the second chapter of my other story are in the works and should hopefully be coming soon.

~angel-san