Of Clouds and Blood

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Chapter betaed by Jenna T. Thank you for both - the kind offer and the betaing!


All spelling and grammatical errors are entirely the author's failure.
Corrections and critique are appreciated. I'm not a native - sucking especially at punctuation - so be patient :-)

Author’s Note: Please note that the text in italics indicates thoughts and alikes.

***

Cade woke to the dull beep of his clock radio. He muttered something like 'way too fucking early' under his breath and slammed the 'snooze'-button. Ever since he took the part time job at Club Roue he seemed busy trying to get sleep, if any sleep at all.

It's my own fault.

Cade had started out as a waiter in the club, but when he failed to pay rent for the second time, he agreed to become a stripper. And that's when the trouble started, at least the boy thought so. Aidan, a fellow from the night shift, had already decided to seduce him, when he still worked as a waiter. Lately, the man grew into a pain in the ass, threatening to report Cade for being underage, but staying silent in return for a date. Up until now the teasing, with an underlying thread, was not lost on the boy.

In tune with the clock's second alarm, Cade's cellphone beeped twice, announcing an incoming message. He took the phone and tossed it into the blanket after reading the message.

Maybe I should quit.

A scenario, including the contents of an ice bucket gushing all over Aidan's ... let's say 'head' , formed in his mind, while he stumbled out of bed towards the bathroom.

~

He managed to get back to the checkroom unnoticed. Deciding to stay there until the next show, Cade slipped into his pair of jeans and sprawled out on the red sofa. Beside it's ugliness and age, the furniture had been spared the fate of becoming a rat's nest on some rubbish dump. The boy blanketed himself with his jacket. A nap would probably lessen his headache.

No such luck. An encouraging pat on the back followed a happily and much too loud chirped, “Make room!”

Cade drew the jacket tight, screwing his eyes and wishing he was still five when throwing a tantrum meant no consequences for his reputation.

“You won't take 'no' for an answer, will you?”

“Nope.”

Aidan moved in and started kissing his mouth. Cade turned his head away, pushing at Aidan's chest and groaning angrily, when the man forced his tongue inside his mouth. He tried to kneel him and finally succeeded in getting free. Rising into an upright position, as fast as his muscles allowed, he ripped the entire length of his upper arm open on the zipper of his jacket. Ouch!

“Damn you, Aidan! Let go!” Idiot.

The man actually had the nerve to smile. Jerk! He held a small cake out in front of him,

“Happy Birthday, sweetheart!”

“I'm not your sweetheart. Fuck off!” Of course, he didn't do him the favor. “It's not even my birthday.”

The man shamelessly settled on the sofa, digging into the cake with a finger, positively driving Cade up the wall. “I know but I missed it and thought it nice ... celebrating ... just the two of us?” He gave the youth a wicked smile, licking the frosting from his finger in a rather provocative manner.

Cade's birthday had been a week ago. Happy Birthday! It was the fifth time he had been saying that by himself and it still felt horrible. Five years ago, on his thirteenth birthday, a car accident left him alone to a seemingly endless circle of foster and children's homes. He didn't celebrate his birthdays. Why would he?

“Get your cake and fuck off, I have to cover my arm for the show!"

“Why so cold?”

“Birthdays have no charm for me.”

Aidan dipped his finger into the frosting again, ignoring Cade's angry stare and held it up to the boy's lips, “Birthdays are important. Don't you know that?”

“How can someone be so ignorant!” Cade screamed at the top of his lungs, “Take your fucking cake and get the hell out!”

Aidan's reaction was little more than giving him an offended look, “What's wrong? Calm down.”

Calm down?! Calm down?!!

“Calm down?!”

He leaped up, lunging for the insolent man, which resulted in adding more scratches to his already wounded arm. Tiny droplets of blood escaped and sunk into the cushions, drawing attention of a different kind ...

~
“What's going on here?”

The manager bellowed, escaping a flying cake by the hair of one's teeth before it settled into the wall opposite the checkroom entrance.

Ohps.

The face of the manager betrayed anger; he didn't wait for a response, proceeding with his rant, “I will deduct the cleaning from your salaries.”

Cade had a feeling, he wasn't about to end anytime soon. The color of the manager's cheeks turned into a shade of red, far deeper than his high cholesterol level caused.

That can't be healthy.

He swallowed the lump in his throat; Aidan instead shrugged his shoulders, “It's not our fault when you can't keep the place clean of bugs. We were just about to savor our cake, when all of a sudden a huge roach decided to join in.”

He made big 'huge'-indicating eyes and shuddered. Up to that point Cade complimented the waiter on his stagecraft and even praised the spontaneous idea for an excuse, as daft at it was, but then Aidan added, “Look, the little stripper boy is scared stiff.”

“You asshole! I'll rip you a new one!”

“Enough! Get your asses in gear ... and clean the damn wall!” The manager turned on his heels, shaking his head, “A roach.”

“Excuse me.” Customers weren't supposed to be here. He turned his head to get a better look at the man. A tall man with a forceful presence, whose expensive clothes made him appear out of place. The dark suite was amazingly well tailored to his shapely figure. That wasn't the kind of customer the Roue attracted.

Who is that?

Hazel eyes and jet black hair, with a grace to his movements, too perfect for this world. When he passed him, the manager sensed a kind of severity and power you better not defy. Even the two cockerels had fallen silent at him, entering the checkroom.

Just as the dark eyes fixed on Cade, a shock flashed through the boy. The man stepped closer and the nearer he got, the more agitated the boy got.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

The man reached out to touch the blood stained skin of Cade's arm with his fingers, earning a response from Aidan, “Who, the heck, are you?”

For an instant his eyes betrayed signs of amusement. Then it was gone and he declared in a low, nonetheless intimidating tone of voice, “Julian Adaire, judge of the juvenile court.”

tbc

~~~

A big thanks to all the readers, who took the time reading. Reviews and corrections are appreciated.

Next chapter: “Dinner time”.