Close Enough
Author: Nativechild Title: Close Enough Rating: R, for language and sexuality Archive: sure just, let me know, so I can brag to my friends Warnings: m/m sex and prostitution Spoilers: Season 3, episode 1 I was jus rewatching the fisrt episode from season 3, and I couldn't help myself, I had to write it. Disclaimer: Even if I did own QAF, I couldn't do anything better than what is currently happening. Except maybe kill of Ted. Feedback: Tina_Nielson@hotmail.com
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*Knock*
I don't want to get up. I don't want to face the fact that it's not Justin knocking on my door.
*Knock, Knock*
/Alright, alright, I'm coming/ I think to myself. I had called the 'agency' earlier stating what I wanted in as clear terms as possible. Shaggy, dirty blond hair, cut close to the head, slim, swimmers build, with a delicate facial structure, and very youthful looking. As close to Justin as possible.
I walk to the door, slowly, savouring the illusion that it's only Justin, that he just forgot his key again, and I can lecture him on being a forgetful brat. But it's not him. It's what I 'ordered'
"Hi, my names Blake-"
I interrupt him. I don't want him to have a name. In my mind, his name is Justin. "It doesn't matter"
He pauses for a moment, looking almost hurt that I don't give a shit about him, but in a moment he collects himself and continues.
"So am I what you're looking for?" He asks with an attitude, almost like Justin when he's angry. I tell him "Close enough."
"That'll be 300, then. Up front." He tells me when I lead him in. I hand it to him. He's cheaper than Justin ever was, I think to myself in a burst of hatred and self-pity. Then I curse myself. Like I told him, Self-pity makes me flaccid.
I tell him, "Bedrooms that way." pointing towards it. He takes his clothes of and I follow. I climb into bed and lay beside him, trying to find something of Justin in him.
He goes to kiss me, and I grab him to stop him. I cover it up by telling him to turn around. Justin may have broken all the rules, but I can't bring myself to do it too. I can't kiss him. Not yet.
He follows my direction, and from the back, there is hardly any difference. Lost in the fantasy, I touch his hair, and the fantasy crumbles. His hair is not as soft to the touch, his skin not as smooth. I try to forget all that in the sensation of being surrounded by hot, tight flesh, but again, it's not the same. His occupation has him a bit to loose from all the use his ass gets, and he's not as responsive, but he'll have to do.
I know I'll hate myself in the morning for this, for giving in to my need for him, but eventually I'll find some way to justify it and forget it.
No, he's not Justin, but he's close enough. And he'll have to do.
Author: Nativechild Title: Close Enough Rating: R, for language and sexuality Archive: sure just, let me know, so I can brag to my friends Warnings: m/m sex and prostitution Spoilers: Season 3, episode 1 I was jus rewatching the fisrt episode from season 3, and I couldn't help myself, I had to write it. Disclaimer: Even if I did own QAF, I couldn't do anything better than what is currently happening. Except maybe kill of Ted. Feedback: Tina_Nielson@hotmail.com
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*Knock*
I don't want to get up. I don't want to face the fact that it's not Justin knocking on my door.
*Knock, Knock*
/Alright, alright, I'm coming/ I think to myself. I had called the 'agency' earlier stating what I wanted in as clear terms as possible. Shaggy, dirty blond hair, cut close to the head, slim, swimmers build, with a delicate facial structure, and very youthful looking. As close to Justin as possible.
I walk to the door, slowly, savouring the illusion that it's only Justin, that he just forgot his key again, and I can lecture him on being a forgetful brat. But it's not him. It's what I 'ordered'
"Hi, my names Blake-"
I interrupt him. I don't want him to have a name. In my mind, his name is Justin. "It doesn't matter"
He pauses for a moment, looking almost hurt that I don't give a shit about him, but in a moment he collects himself and continues.
"So am I what you're looking for?" He asks with an attitude, almost like Justin when he's angry. I tell him "Close enough."
"That'll be 300, then. Up front." He tells me when I lead him in. I hand it to him. He's cheaper than Justin ever was, I think to myself in a burst of hatred and self-pity. Then I curse myself. Like I told him, Self-pity makes me flaccid.
I tell him, "Bedrooms that way." pointing towards it. He takes his clothes of and I follow. I climb into bed and lay beside him, trying to find something of Justin in him.
He goes to kiss me, and I grab him to stop him. I cover it up by telling him to turn around. Justin may have broken all the rules, but I can't bring myself to do it too. I can't kiss him. Not yet.
He follows my direction, and from the back, there is hardly any difference. Lost in the fantasy, I touch his hair, and the fantasy crumbles. His hair is not as soft to the touch, his skin not as smooth. I try to forget all that in the sensation of being surrounded by hot, tight flesh, but again, it's not the same. His occupation has him a bit to loose from all the use his ass gets, and he's not as responsive, but he'll have to do.
I know I'll hate myself in the morning for this, for giving in to my need for him, but eventually I'll find some way to justify it and forget it.
No, he's not Justin, but he's close enough. And he'll have to do.