I apologise for the wait. If you're following me on tumblr, you'll know I've been without internet for a while and this is the first chance I've gotten to update. I have been waiting for ages to post this chapter because I've been looking forward to it for ages! It kind of went a little off-track to what I'd planned, particularly Nick, but I'm really excited about this chapter.
I can't remember for the life of me who requested I use Ed Sheeran's The A Team, but it was a brilliant idea and I'm glad you mentioned it. Hopefully you know who you are :)
Now, read on!
Nick hadn't heard from Jeff all week.
He didn't like to admit it to himself, but he was worried about the guy; and the only reason he didn't want to admit it was because that meant he cared about him, and he shouldn't. He shouldn't care about a guy that, if not for exceptional circumstances, he would never have met. He shouldn't care, but for some reason he did and it worried him that he hadn't heard anything from the blonde.
He'd considered going out and cruising around to see if he could spot him working the street, but he'd decided against it. The last time he'd done that, he'd ended up getting a little too involved with him. His dreams didn't help. He hadn't had a night free from the dreams since the night Jeff had walked in on him. Except it was different now. Before, the dreams had been varied in their premise but they always ended the same – Jeff got fucked. But now he was having the same odd dream night after night and it was nothing like his previous ones. In this one, he swept in to save Jeff from some faceless attacker and he carried him away somewhere safe, away from the streets and the job and the drugs and the pain. He kept him safe, protecting him from everyone who wanted him, who wanted to use him.
The ending constantly confused him. He would lean over to Jeff and whisper softly in his ear, three little words. And then just as Jeff turned to him, opened his mouth to reply, Nick would wake. He never got his answer and for some reason, that was more confusing than the fact he told Jeff he loved him in his dreams every night.
He wasn't sure exactly what had convinced his subconscious that going to Body Shots that Friday night was a good idea, considering the last time he'd been there had been nothing short of a disaster. But here he was, walking into the club, ears assaulted by the loud, pumping music, with the single-minded intention of seeing Jeff. He looked straight to the stage and saw only a few dancers there that were certainly not Jeff, entertaining the crowd. It appeared he'd have to wait. He headed to the bar and ordered himself a drink, letting his eyes wander across the room. Some of the Body Shots' dancers were mixed in with the crowd, hanging onto someone who'd slipped them enough cash to let them touch. Jeff wasn't there. But his eyes caught on someone else, sneaking away from the bright lights to the shadows with someone firmly attached to his lips.
Nick raised an eyebrow, but if he was honest with himself he wasn't entirely surprised. With the amount of time Cameron spent at the club, it wasn't shocking to find him here on a Friday night. The part he found curious was the fact it was Trent he was dragging away from most prying eyes, neither of them seemingly able to let go of each other for a second. A moment later and they both disappeared 'backstage'. Nick sighed. Lucky bastard. Nothing's complicated for him.
He was distracted from his thoughts as the song that was playing ended, and a new one began playing that he recognised instantly. He turned to the stage instinctively, and wasn't disappointed. Entering from one side of the half-moon stage was an achingly familiar blonde, decked out in only those tight leather pants he remembered so well, and a wide choker around his neck. And then he started to sing, and Nick knew he should be anywhere but here. A voice like his, sensual and smooth, deserved a whole lot more than a dirty club like this.
Come here rude boy
Boy, can you get it up?
Come here rude boy
Boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it
Baby, baby
Take it, take it
Love me, love me
Come here rude boy
Boy, can you get it up?
Come here rude boy
Boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it
Baby, baby
Take it, take it
Love me, love me
As he sang he walked out to the front of the stage, swinging his hips with every step and let those who could reach slip money into the top of his short boots or slide their hand up his leg as he passed. The sultry, dark look in his made-up eyes was clear – this was Syxe. The whore. The entertainer. The slut. His movements were slow and rhythmic, rolling his shoulders and hips to the beat and not a single person could keep their eyes off him.
Tonight I'm a let you be the captain
Tonight I'm a let you do your thing, yeah
Tonight I'm a let you be a rider
Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up babe
Tonight I'm a let it be fire
Tonight I'm a let you take me higher
Tonight, baby we can get it on
Yeah we can get it on, yeah
Do you like it boy?
I wa-wa-want what you wa-wa-want
Give it to me baby like boom, boom, boom
What I wa-wa-want is what you wa-wa-want
Na, na, ah-ah
Nick's attention was pulled briefly by another person walking onto the stage from the other side, dressed in the tall, wedge-heeled red boots he was pretty sure was this guy's signature, black shorts that barely reached his thighs and hid nothing, and a dark blue jacket over his bare chest. Sebastian – Courvoisier, Nick figured, considering he was on the stage – strutted out to sing the next part of the song, taking over from Syxe. He appeared to be doing well after whatever trouble he'd suffered through that had had Jeff running to him in a panic. But then he opened his eyes for a moment, and Nick saw one was blood-red. It seemed to be turning some of the audience off, as he had significantly less cash on him than his partner when he reached the front of the stage beside Syxe.
Come here rude boy
Boy, can you get it up?
Come here rude boy
Boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it
Baby, baby
Take it, take it
Love me, love me
Come here rude boy
Boy, can you get it up?
Come here rude boy
Boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it
Baby, baby
Take it, take it
Love me, love me
Tonight I'm a give it to you harder
Tonight I'm a turn your body out
Relax, let me do it how I wanna
If you got it, I need it
And I'm a put it down
The blonde wound his body around Courvoisier as he danced, letting the other sing and run his hands over his chest, his defined stomach, his hips. It wasn't right in Nick's mind, but that was the act – though it didn't seem like an act at times, when Syxe reached up and fisted a hand in the other's hair, grinding back into him, a look of pure sex in his eyes as Courvoisier skimmed his fingers over his body. The men watching were lapping it up, some trying to grab at them and others practically throwing cash in their direction. It made Nick sick to see it. But then, he could barely take his eyes off the blonde beauty on the stage.
Buckle up, I'm a give it to you stronger
Hands up, we can go a little longer
Tonight I'm a get a little crazy
Get a little crazy, baby
You like it boy?
I wa-wa-want what you wa-wa-want
Give it to me baby like boom, boom, boom
What I wa-wa-want is what you wa-wa-want
Na, na, ah-ah
Come here rude boy
Boy, can you get it up?
Come here rude boy
Boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it
Baby, baby
Take it, take it
Love me, love me
Come here rude boy
Boy, can you get it up?
Come here rude boy
Boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it
Baby, baby
Take it, take it
Love me, love me
Suddenly Syxe took over the song, slipping out of the other's hands to stand alone for a moment and sing. Nick couldn't help but wonder what his name would actually sound like in that sexy 'fuck me' voice, rather than just in his dreams, and that thought turned him on almost as much as watching him sway his hips and slide a hand down his thigh, teasing and playful. He watched as Courvoisier came up behind him, grabbed his blonde hair and eased his head back, his other hand curving around Syxe's body to play across his hip.
I like the way you touch me there
I like the way you pull my hair
Babe, if I don't feel it I ain't faking
No, no
I like when you tell me kiss you there
I like when you tell me move it there
So get it up
Time to get it up
You say you're a rude boy
Show me what you got now
Come here right now
He belted out the words before tipping his head up and staring out with a smirk into the watching audience, curling his finger in a 'come-hither' gesture. Courvoisier didn't stop touching him as the blonde continued to sing, his hands never leaving the muscled body beneath them for more than a second.
Nick hated it.
Take it, take it
Baby, baby,
Take it, take it
Love me, love me
Come here rude boy
Boy, can you get it up?
Come here rude boy
Boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it
Baby, baby
Take it, take it
Love me, love me
Come here rude boy
Boy, can you get it up?
Come here rude boy
Boy, is you big enough?
Take it, take it
Baby, baby
Take it, take it
Love me, love me
As Syxe's eyes scanned the room, Nick ducked his head to avoid being spotted. He wasn't sure he wanted him to know he'd just seen that performance. As soon as he deemed it safe he looked back up, watching the rest of the show. He almost wished he hadn't as Syxe got close enough to the edge of the stage for someone to grab at his leg. The blonde leaned down and tilted the man's head up with long fingers under his chin. He sang directly to him briefly, smirking at the more than enthusiastic response he got. Nick forced himself not to move. It had nothing to do with him.
Love me, love me
Love me, love me
Take it, take it
Baby, baby,
Take it, take it
Love me, love me
Love me, love me
Love me, love me
Take it, take it
Baby, baby,
Take it, take it
Love me, love me
When the song finally ended, there was scattered applause but the majority of noise came from men calling out prices – how much they'd pay for even fifteen minutes of Syxe's time. After deliberating carefully with a cheeky smile, Syxe accepted the offer of the man he'd just been singing to and attempted to gracefully step down from the stage. The next few minutes were anything but graceful, and it took all of Nick's willpower not to intervene. The man grabbed the blonde by the arm when it seemed he was too slow in getting down, and Jeff (he couldn't think of him as anything else at that moment) stumbled upon hitting the ground, unbalanced. Just as he regained his footing, the man quickly hooked a finger under the choker around his neck, scratching him in the process. Even from across the crowded room, Nick could see it had drawn blood. Jeff gasped as he was dragged off 'backstage' to the rooms Nick knew well. The brunette tightened his grip on his glass, the only thing he could do, before throwing back his drink, slamming the glass down and heading straight for the door. If he stayed, he'd hurt someone – he was sure of it.
As he left, he caught sight of Trent and Cameron trying to sneak back into the main area unnoticed. It probably didn't look good that the owner of Body Shots was running off to hook up with one of the club's patrons, albeit it's most loyal one. Just as the fact Trent was still trying to do up his belt didn't look particularly good, or that Cameron had a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he wiped at his mouth.
The cold air hit Nick as he walked outside and he stopped for a moment, shivering. He was still angry, but that anger was slowly dissipating as a realisation came to him. He finally understood why he cared so much about Jeff. Why he wanted to help him. Why he'd let him stay, why he hadn't wanted him to leave, why he'd gone to see him tonight and why he was so pissed at Sebastian and that idiotic man for daring to touch him. It didn't make any sense, and it scared the absolute crap out of him, but he understood why.
He was in love with Jeff.
"Are you okay?"
Jeff sighed. It was the same question Sebastian had been asking since he'd come down and become lucid again. Really, he should be asking Sebastian because there was no way in hell that hewas okay, but for some reason he couldn't quite make himself ask. He didn't want to know the consequences of his actions. He'd said horrible things and if he were honest, he didn't want to know how Sebastian had coped. He clearly hadn't done it very well.
"I'm fi – what the hell do you think you're doing?"
He hadn't let Sebastian get back to working yet – he wanted to be sure his friend was okay first – but now he was getting to his feet and grabbing his clothes. The brunette looked at him curiously. "I'm okay, Jeff. I can work."
"I don't think so," the blonde replied, pushing him back down onto the bed "You're still weak."
Sebastian fought back a little, trying to push him away. "I'm strong enough to handle a couple of guys tonight. I'll be fine."
Jeff raised an eyebrow. "And if you run into trouble? I can't let you go out when you can barely even fight me off."
The brunette glared but stopped trying to get up, huffing in annoyance. "Fine. Just be back… soon, okay?"
Jeff smiled. "I will. Don't go anywhere."
Sebastian pouted but nodded, slumping back on the bed and watching his friend head for the door. Jeff closed it quietly behind him and left the building, stopping when he hit the street. Saturday. Normally he wouldn't have thought twice about the day, but he knew what was going on tonight. He knew where the bar was. He could get there, stay for a little while and still have time to earn enough money so as not to raise Sebastian's suspicions. He wasn't sure why he was even thinking about going to the bar – he'd probably be seen and then he'd have to explain himself, which would be difficult considering he didn't know why he wanted to go. But somehow he found himself walking in the direction of the bar rather than his usual street corner. He didn't let himself stop to think – he didn't want to know what his thoughts might be. The idea of that scared him enough as it was.
He reached the bar soon enough and stopped outside. He could hear the sounds of people inside, laughing and enjoying themselves, and a voice singing – it wasn't Nick. But Nick would be in there. He would be in there, preparing to sing in that beautiful, deep voice that exuded passion and…
What the hell am I thinking? Jeff shook his head. He wouldn't be welcome in there anyway. Not as who he was now. But the thought of seeing Nick again, hearing him sing, was practically overwhelming and before he knew it he was stepping up to the door and pushing it open, carefully looking around.
The place was fairly full, meaning he was less likely to be spotted by Nick, but more likely to be seen by others and possibly kicked out. He kept to the walls and shadows as best he could, hiding behind others and staying near the door in case he needed to make a quick exit. He could see the singers on the other side of the room, familiar faces he remembered meeting as almost an equal. He caught sight of someone new there, although not unfamiliar. He'd seen him a number of times at the club though he'd never fucked him. He'd always been more interested in Trent than any of the dancers, and Jeff wouldn't have been surprised if this was the guy Trent had been making out with when he'd needed a place to stay. He'd always known his friend to go for guys like him; tall, blonde, muscled. And he was pretty sure he'd been at Body Shots last night, slipping off with Trent. You lucky bastard, Trent, Jeff sighed in his head. Nothing's complicated for you.
Blaine, if he remembered correctly, was just moving away from the front spot to let Nick take over. Perfect timing, Jeff thought as the brunette slid onto the stool and positioned his guitar in his lap. Taking the microphone in one hand for a moment, he said in a strange tone, "I hope you'll all enjoy and love this song as much as I do. It's a pretty special one." And before Jeff could begin to interpret the meaning behind that tone, Nick settled down and began to play. None of the others joined in, and so it was just Nick and his guitar – and his amazing voice.
White lips, pale face
Breathing in snowflakes
Burnt lungs, sour taste
Light's gone, day's end
Struggling to pay rent
Long nights, strange men
Jeff knew this song. He'd listened to it himself a number of times, loving the singer's soft voice and the meaning behind the words and the steady, lulling beat – but it was nothing compared to Nick. Lower, deeper and rougher than the last time the blonde had heard him, the passion was still there but it seemed so much stronger this time; if that were even possible.
And they say she's in the class A team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since eighteen
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
'Cause we're just under the upper hand
And go mad for a couple grams
And she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside for angels to fly
Angels to fly
He wondered exactly what Nick thought of him. Did he pity him? Think he was pathetic and weak? A whore with nothing to his name except bedroom eyes and talented hands?
Did he care about him?
It was easy for that thought to come to him, but harder to believe. Even after all Nick had done for him, Jeff couldn't bring himself to believe that he cared about him. No one did. That was the way the world – and his life – worked. He wasn't someone who was supposed to be cared about. He wasn't even worth that. But there was something in the brunette's eyes now, as he sang, that made Jeff dare to think there might be a part of Nick that cared for him.
But he couldn't quite believe that yet.
Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim, stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, bank notes
Weary-eyed, dry throat
Call girl, no phone
And they say she's in the class A team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since eighteen
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
'Cause we're just under the upper hand
And go mad for a couple grams
But she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside for angels to fly
An angel will die
Covered in white
Closed eye
And hoping for a better life
This time, we'll fade out tonight
Straight down the line
Nick looked around the room and Jeff had to duck behind someone to avoid being seen. But when he was brave enough to look back, he saw the brunette with his head down, eyes closed and singing for all his worth. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. A beautiful, impossible person. Someone who couldn't exist, because it wasn't possible that someone could have wanted to help him, wanted him to be safe. But Nick had.
And they say she's in the class A team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since eighteen
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
And we're all under the upper hand
And go mad for a couple grams
And we don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland
Or sell love to another man
It's too cold outside for angels to fly
Angels to fly
Fly, fly
For angels to fly
To fly, to fly
Or angels to die
As Nick finished and everyone applauded, Jeff couldn't help but smile. He was so shy with the attention he was receiving for his talent, smiling at the floor and glancing up only a few times as he stood up and let someone else take the seat to sing. Did he not know how good he was? He had to realise that he was essentially amazing. But with the way he slipped to the back to avoid notice, hardly looking up, Jeff wasn't so sure that he knew.
He was distracted by someone walking up beside him and placing a strong hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see a well-built man standing over him.
"You need to leave," the man said quietly "This is a respectable establishment, not some whorehouse."
Reality was a bitch, and she hit hard. It took Jeff a moment to understand what had been said and as soon as he did, his face began to heat up and he moved for the door quickly. There was no way he was going to make a scene. The man followed him, clearly a bar employee, and stood in the doorway after Jeff left to make sure he didn't return. The blonde only looked back once as he almost ran off down the street, tears pricking at his eyes.
A week ago he'd been sat at that bar without a single problem. Because he was with Nick, and even though he'd dressed like he was homeless because he had nothing else, no one had tried to kick him out because he was there with a good group of guys. With Nick. For a moment, he'd been just as decent as the rest of them; he'd been a human being who required respect. Now he'd been rudely awakened to the fact that he was not decent, he was not someone to be respected and he was not a human being. He was a whore. He was a body for rent that didn't deserve to be around those guys. Especially not Nick.
Except Nick had tried to help him regardless of the fact he was worth nothing. Nick was so good and sometimes Jeff couldn't believe it. People like Nick didn't exist; they were a fantasy thought up in the minds of desperate people. No one cared.
He didn't realise he was back in the red light district of town until the sound of a horn made him stop in his tracks. He turned to see a car pulling up on the side of the road just behind him, two people discernible through the window in the darkness. He forced himself to walk towards the car and leaned over the open passenger side window. The seat was occupied by a man in his mid-twenties, the driver perhaps a little older, but they both had a strong, dark air around them. Normally Jeff would have backed off – he didn't like the idea of two guys and they both kind of scared him – but at that moment he couldn't bring himself to care. Just like everyone else.
"Hundred ten an hour, boys," he sighed.
The driver nodded with a smile he really didn't like. "Get in."
He did as he was told, sliding into the backseat and leaning his head back, eyes closed. It was scary how easy it was not to care. It was obvious why people did it all the time – it was just so simple to let go of everything and not bother. He felt the car start to move again, and it was only a minute or two before it stopped again. Jeff opened his eyes and looked out of the window to see a familiar by-the-hour motel. As the driver sorted out the room, the younger man grabbed Jeff tightly by the arm and dragged him out of the car.
Why does everyone have to pull me around? He thought vaguely to himself, reaching up with his free hand to rub at the scabbed-over scratch on his throat. I'm perfectly capable of moving on my own.
He was pulled into the dirty motel room as the driver – a muscular man with cropped dark hair and small eyes – reappeared with that smile Jeff was certain he didn't like the look of. The locking of the door, which had never been unusual, scared him. And when the man curled his fingers around the blonde's throat and pulled him away from his friend to throw him bodily against the wall, Jeff knew this was one of the most awful ideas he'd ever had.
But he just couldn't make himself care. After all, he was just a whore. A disgusting, gay little whore who deserved it.
God, he'd couldn't remember the last time he'd been so sore just because of a job. It took all of his effort to simply get down the street without imprinting his face into the pavement. Jeff knew there'd be bruises by tomorrow and he probably wouldn't even be able to walk – everything hurt. They hadn't beaten him – or even hit him at all – but being thrown against walls, roughly handled and almost suffocated when someone forgot he was being held face-down on the bed and actually needed to breathe was still more than enough to make sure he didn't get out of bed in the morning. His nerves were still on edge from nearly blacking out due to the lack of air, and his legs and ass were ridiculously sore. By the time he reached the apartment building he felt like keeling over, and it took twice as long to get to his room as it normally did. When he finally stumbled through the door, it was to see Sebastian slipping off his tall red boots.
Jeff stared for a moment. "I told you not to go out."
The brunette glanced at him briefly but as soon as he saw his friend's state he rushed over to help him into the room. He sat the blonde down on his bed before dropping down onto his. "What happened to you?"
"It doesn't matter. Why did you go out? You're not…"
"Jeff, I already told you! I'm fine!" Sebastian interrupted him, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs.
"I was perfectly okay tonight. I wasn't about to stay at home when I could just as easily be out making money."
"I've been paying most of the rent for years, Sebastian, you know I'm capable of keeping a roof over our heads," Jeff said coldly. Guilt rushed up on him as the brunette's face fell and he knew it had been a low blow. It wasn't Sebastian's fault that he needed coke. He was addicted and there was nothing either of them could do about it.
"I'm sorry," he sighed "That was uncalled for. But you said you'd stay here. I… I trusted you. I only went out because I knew you'd be okay here. I don't like worrying about you, Seb. It scares me."
Sebastian stared down at the floor, and in his eyes was a look Jeff knew well. Far too well, and he hatedit. Because that look meant Sebastian felt guilty, and if he felt guilty then there was pretty much only one thing it could be.
"Seb. What have you done?" he asked, already knowing and dreading the answer. It's the coke, it always is.
At first the other didn't reply. But finally he lifted his head and gestured to his arms. Jeff followed his gaze and for the first time, noticed the faint track marks in the crease of his elbow. Horror overcame him as he realised this was so much worse than a little too much coke.
"What…"
"It was stupid," Sebastian coughed, rubbing at his face "I'm sorry, it was stupid and I didn't… I shouldn't have, but I did…"
"Is that what was wrong with you? Were you fucking speedballing?" Jeff was more than pissed. He was furious. He knew Sebastian wouldn't have stopped taking coke and to add heroin… "God, you could have killed yourself! You almost did!"
"I'm sorry!" Sebastian shouted, still upset "I know it was stupid, but I didn't think anyone would care, and everything hurt too much and I just wanted it all to stop!"
The blonde stared. There had been a number of times he'd been afraid of Sebastian hurting himself on purpose, or killing himself, but to his knowledge he'd never actually tried. Now everything changed, and he knew that this was all his fault.
"S-Seb… I'm sorry… I… you know I care, right? Even if I disappear or do stupid stuff and say horrible things, I-I still care…"
The brunette nodded, and Jeff was both amazed and concerned at the fact he wasn't even crying. "I know. B-But now I have to pay the other half to Jamie, and I don't… I don't have it. I-I-I…"
He trailed off and Jeff switched beds, sitting beside his friend and letting him lean on him. The brunette coughed a few times, desperately rubbing at his eyes to avoid tears, and Jeff just patted his back comfortingly, all the while thinking about how fucked they were. Jamie was one of the biggest and most important dealers in town, who had most of the others working for him, and he didn't take late payments well. The last time Sebastian hadn't been able to pay…
Jeff had swallowed more than his non-existent pride to keep the both of them from broken limbs and missing teeth.
"I-I'm sc…" Sebastian couldn't get the words out. He was shaking under Jeff's hands and it just drove home how royally screwed they were. They both knew that if Jeff couldn't convince Jamie and his guys otherwise, they might just end up bleeding out in a dumpster or lying in a ditch on the side of the road out of town.
The blonde sighed. "I know, Seb. So am I."
So finally Nick's figured it out :) I have the feeling you guys aren't going to like the next few chapters though...
Please review!
