Blues

A/N:Thanks, Kerrie, for reviewing, I appreciated it very much. Made me want to keep writing this.:)

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It's been a whole month since Mr. Comwell last came. Michael is worried but tries not show it, but his bitten lips, gnawed and splitted, and tired face show clearly that something's wrong. Or wronger than usual - he's not sleeping properly even when they have the chance for a bed anymore. The boy, sitting dejectedly against the wall of their alley, lowers his head bracing it on his folded knees.

He's always known it'd eventually come to an end, as every good thing he'd ever thought he grasped did. But at least he 'd hoped that it'd last longer. Not end abruptly like this. Mr. Comwell had said he'd come back last time. Had he grown tired of him already?

Michael shook all over and tried to snap out of it, told himself for the n'time that he was making conclusions too soon. It's only been a month after all. Mr. Comwell could bee busy, he certainly had a life beyond this filth. Although he usually came at least once a week, he could have been held back somehow.

Yes, that's right. His 'hope' would come back strolling in asking for him anytime now. He just had to wait, be patient, just a bit longer. The skin of Michael's lower lip broke again and a drop of blood glided slowly down his chin, dropping and adding itself to the stain of clear salty drops that already marred the ground at his feet.

-----------Nicky-----------

This isn't working out. I came back from another client to find Michael hunched like a ball the same as when I'd left him. He'd been growing increasingly depressed I could tell. Even though he tried to act normal and pretend that nothing was going on, the pit he'd fallen into was too obvious for someone who knows him as I do.

I didn't miss that that man hadn't shown up in a while either. Damn.Why does this has to happen to him? Why does he let it happen to himself? Well, I tried to warn him. *sigh*

''Michael?''

He looks up abruptly and wipes the tear tracks from his face too late, I've already seen them all the other times this last weeks. I feel weird seeing him like this, feel like...in a way that makes me want to go against my better judgment, all I've learned in this life. Not to sink, not to let myself be swept by emotion: that's your death here.

Michael hasn't learned enough from our life 'till now, it seems. Just shuting your emotions doesn't help, you have to erase them completely. I can't let myself help him, though. As the look on his eyes betray all that has been going through in his heart my own beats faster and alerts me that I have a weakness of my own. Not to let myself go down that path.

There's only so much I can do for Michael right now. I can't change our lives and I can't make it better. All I can offer is what I work with every day. The only ability I have and that I hope, even if it's usually done without even a slight of feeling, that my caring for him will pass through as I hold him. Of course, I tell myself that it has nothing to do with comforting my own aching heart as well.

-----------Michael---------------

Nicky is kissing me again. His heat is a welcome reminder that he's here. I'm not alone. Even if when he gets closer I can smell the oil used earlier on him and the stench of sex that has become our essence. Poor Nicky, he seems to attract the worse types, I think as I glance down to his sore, raw wrists when his hand comes up to caress my face.

''Let me help you, Michael. You've better forget that guy.''

Nicky, you don't understand. It's not a matter of forgetting, I can't forget something that's been branded in my skin. He wouldn't comprehend, Nicky has always been lucky that he could separate things well, never got hurt beyond what's already been done, what we already survived through. He knows how to take care of himself, I'm a mere convenience for him also even if sometimes Nicky gets carried away and acts like this. Different. Kissing me gently from the forehead to the cheeks almost soothingly, something we never get from the world outside.

I wonder if Nicky knows what he's doing... The way he's holding me, almost like lover would - I merely guess for I'd never really experienced a loving embrace - he'd probably recoil immediately if he realized. Well I guess I might just enjoy it then, this little attention and fake feelings, even if I know deep down that Nicky doesn't mean anything by it. I might just forget for a moment, then.

There is a mattress in the abandoned building beside us. It's not always unoccupied but tonight were lucky and get it all to ourselves. It'd wouldn't do to let Nicky carry this on in the street, we only escaped a mob narrowly the last time. I don't know how long he's planing for this to last but as we've both already worked tonight we could take our time, only my mind keeps nagging me. What if Mr. Comwell comes?

I sigh contentedly when Nicky undresses us. This is always nice. We don't indulge each other frequently as it's always been a work, sex, something we have to do. So it's rare that any of us is up to do it just like that, of our own free wills just for the pleasure. But, surprisingly, it's rather nice, the way Nicky does it is very careful and deliberate, as if he's making up for the roughness we usually get.

I like it, even knowing that Nicky must not want me, really. He just seeks this confort, the same as I do, of doing it slowly, carefully, satiating this hunger just for ourselves not for people that not even want to know our names.

After we're bare, Nicky kisses all over my chest. I guess it's his favorite part, the foreplay I mean, a once in a lifetime happening with clients. But still, even in this situation I find odd that he's already hard. I can feel it in my thigh leaking and hard as nothing else. Nicky is really something, isn't he? Hasn't he just come from a job just now? The way he's feeling me today is even more 'different' than usual.

He's still fondling my nipples, he knows I'm very sensitive there, sucking long as he begins to finger me down there. With that he manages to get me going, all right. Even moaning genuinely and holding him back. If Nicky wasn't my partner whore I might even...No, this thoughts, have no place here. I need Nicky as he needs me, there's no one else we can trust in this place, and sticking together is the only means of survival. That's it.

It's another matter with Mr. Comwell. He doesn't need to treat me any other way then everybody else does, I'm just a whore after all. He comes from another world altogether, and still, he is so good to me.

Nicky comes back up and laves attention to my mouth. I not helping him much I realize, and promptly swith my skills on to please him. Nicky is not a client but he's a man and I know what to do. The administrations from my hands have the desired effect and soon Nicky is unraveling on top of me, panting and trying to give back as good as he got. I'm happy as he fucks me - this word doesn't seem really fit for what we're doing now though - and let myself go. I know it's not gonna be often that I'll be feeling this way from now on since Mr. Comwell... - the resignation suddenly sets in after my orgasm and I can't do much when Nicky comes shuddering, not even realize that as he does he's crying my name.

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''Michael, are you free now?''

''Mr. Comwell! You came!''

The two man departed from the dimly lit alley in search of a hotel and Nicky is left alone to care for their spot. He didn't know what to feel, really. Although his heart seemed set on agonising over the fact that Michael was all to happy to go back to that man's arms, without even bothering to spare him a glance as he left, his mind kept telling him that he ought to be glad for this little reprieve of happiness for Michael, even though he knew it had no future and would hurt his companion in the end.

But, anyway, the point was that Nick shouldn't be worrying about that in the first place. They leaned on each other for work and survival, only that. That Michael kept a client was good, specially one that treated him well - Nicky could use one like that, so he understood. He didn't have business feeling resentment at all, or anything else for that matter.

He only hoped that his heart would understand that and shrivel up already.

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WIP