Auction

Out of the shower, the cool air outside of the safe and warm cocoon of the steam filled shower almost a shock. As if I hadn’t been expecting it.

He didn’t come, tonight. He was busy himself, the trick from the club sneaking in at the end to pay Father for him. How dare he. How dare he sell him off when he was supposed to be not working tonight? He was supposed to be able to come to me tonight. I have been planning this for weeks now, how to do this properly, how to say this. And now… it’s all crumbling beneath me.

Damn him.

Still feeling surly and most likely looking very pouty, I towel my hair off, walking to my room. All caught up in the towel on my head, I didn’t notice the person lounging on my bed until the telly shut off, seemingly by itself.

“Shit!” I exclaim, nearly pissing myself as I scramble for the bathroom, slipping on the wet tile in the process and busting my ass splendidly.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. The towel on my head kept me from splitting it open on the tile, but my ass hurt something awful.

Mystery person on my bed ran to me quickly, obviously feeling horrible about what they’d done. And well they should. They could have KILLED me. Bastard.

Towel removed.

Blink.

Blink.

Frown.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” I say, confused. Real smart. What a way to show someone your intelligence.

Theodore only smiles and picks me up, remarkably easily. Mental note: Work out more. Gain some damned weight. Don’t be the Nancy Boy.

On my bed now, not feeling so horrible or embarrassed now.

“I thought you went with… with…” –the trick- “I thought you went somewhere.” Finish lamely. Wow. Fall knocked out major brain cells.

“I did. But then I remembered you wanted to talk to me about someone. I told him to leave.”

What Theodore doesn’t know is that I see the trick’s number on his hand. As much as I try not to let it, it’s quite unsettling.

Jump up onto my bed, naked, yes, and hurting, yes, but triumphant.

“I know what you’re doing, ass. I know that you’ve got his number and you’ve come back to humour me here. You’re going to take care of the poor boy, get me to bed and thinking you’re just going out for a drink or something, and then you’re going to call him, get picked up and leave until tomorrow night! I know you! I know this is what you’re doing! You’re trying to tease me. You know I want you. You know how I feel about you! You know I love you from the depths and reaches of my heart and you’re putting me on a hook and throwing me to the sharks! If you really cared for me, you wouldn’t be doing this to me every night... you wouldn’t treat me this way!”

Deep healing breaths. Sit down. Shocked silence.

Of course, I could dream about ranting like this all I want. The truth is, all I have the pluck to do is nod slightly and say a soft “oh… ok…”

“So… you… wanted to talk?”

Theodore has the oddly curious look on his face that someone does when I say something I didn’t mean to. Or look like I’m about to say something that I don’t really want to. The look like I’m trying to suppress a persistent cough. Or like someone slipped ex-lax into my tea.

“Yeah… I…” Damn it. Thoughts, come together. “Theo, I…”

Expectant look. The kind you give a person struck dumb who’s still fumbling to tell you something.

Long sigh.

“Theo. I’ve known you for a long time, yeah?” Nod. He’s listening. “And… we’ve… worked here together for a while now.” Another nod. Good sign. “And we’ve… you been…You… you must know by now what I feel for you. I’ve not tried to hide it very much. Over the past… year… you’ve been coming to me. When I’ve hurt. And when He’s hurt me. And when Something’s happened. And…” Eyes closed, don’t look. Still naked… should find clothing… “And I’ve grown to… to care for you through all that. You’ve protected me from... myself and…and…” Oh shit, here it is… and why? Why? Why? “And Theo… I love you. I’ve loved you. I just… I know you’re... and... I can’t help it and… I’ve tried but… it’s so hard when you’re so…”

Damnit don’t. Don’t start now. Not that poncy shit again…

Taste the saline from my eyes as they open, looking meekly at him. I know when I cry I look instantly like a three year old. All big eyes and watery, stuck together, too long, too dark eyelashes. Flushed cheeks.

He looks at me. Blue eyes. Intense eyes. Burning a fucking hole through my skull.

“Nikolaus” He says, low and dark. I instantly know this isn’t going to be good for me.

“We’ve been through this before.”

I nod. It’s true. But I’ve not… I mean… This time it’s different. I’ve never said anything about…

Love.

“I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, but your father has made it perfectly clear… I have made it perfectly clear… nothing good can come of this. We aren’t supposed to love… especially not one another. We’ve a job to do. We’ve money to make. Our purpose in life is to please people, and make them happy and satisfied and to make them forget about whatever the fuck messed up their lives so much that they had to come to a WHORE to be able to forget about it. Lose themselves in the sins of the flesh.”

No. No, no. No more. Don’t cry. Nikki, don’t do it…

“A whore can’t love. I don’t know what you think you feel for me, but it is most certainly not love. Clean your face, put some clothes on and go to bed. You have a maths test tomorrow. You can’t fail. Your father would kill you and then where would I be, hmm? Plus we have your birthday Saturday to think about. Don’t want to have anything happen before that, do we?”

A thumb wiping at my face before he’s gone. Completely gone. No warmth of him left, not even his smell. I can’t think anymore. I lie down and wait for sleep to take me.

Please, take me.