The Dangerous Lives of Renter Boys

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It\'s a couple of nights after our untimely ousting from Warwick\'s, and we\'re out prowling the streets, just trying to earn an honest living. The three of us have devised a system to keep each other safe and healthy. This isn\'t really the best neighborhood, you know. It\'s almost every other night that someone gets them self stabbed or done off in some other unseemly way. So we stick close together and watch each other\'s backs.

Which finds us standing on a streetcorner talking to a couple of unfortunates, those lovely women who share our profession and ill repute, and keeping our eyes on the flow of foot-traffic meandering by us. Although it\'s late, past midnight, the street is fair hopping with people. This area is a notorious dive, and people come here looking for one of two things. Most come for those who are willing to sell their bodies as instruments of pleasure for a little cash. The rest are looking for the opium dens, for the dragon-chase. We are interested in the first sort.

\"And then the wheels fell off!\" Everyone laughs. The punchline to a joke that has gone over my head, told by one of the two unfortunates that is currently hovering near us. She has a snaggle tooth. But she also has a warm presence and a booming laugh, so she can be forgiven this little imperfection, I suppose. She and her lady-in-waiting are among the few of them who will actually fraternize with Finny, Yuri and I. Maybe the rest are wary because we\'re new and they\'re afraid we might cut into their business. Oh well, they\'ll come around eventually. No one could resist Finny\'s charms or the endless supply of sweets he keeps squirreled away in his pockets. And you can tell that, even as these fine ladies are ostentatiously keeping their distance, they are aching inside to walk over and mother Yuri, scruff his hair and the like. How could they not want to? I really don\'t know where I fit into the picture. Maybe I\'m the brains of the group.

I am unceremoniously hauled out of my daydreams and back into reality by an elbow jabbed into my side. Yuri\'s elbow. He gestures with his chin at a man coming our way. Finn has seen him too. The guy looks out of place, quite obviously expensive suit clinging to his tall, lanky frame. He\'s walking slowly, his eyes darting from his feet to us and back again as he moves. The classic attempt to pick us up. He passes us with his head tucked down into his collar.

\"Shit!\" Finn says under his breath, clenching his teeth and shaking his head.

\"He\'ll be back.\" I say this with confidence, punching him on the shoulder.

\"Well, if \'e does come back, it\'s your turn.\"

\"The hell it is!\" But it is my turn. I know that it is.

\"It is, you ass! Yuri took the last one, and I \'ad the one before that.\"

\"I know, I know! I\'ll get \'im.\" I roll my eyes.

We wait a few minutes, and I catch sight of my prey in the crowd, this time walking the other way towards us. Time for some action. I stare right at him unabashedly, and when he catches my eye he slows his pace. He looks nervous, unwilling to keep my gaze for more than a moment. I wait until he looks up again and slowly lick my lips and press them together, pursing them into the gesture of a kiss. I smile as he starts, and fall into stride beside him as he passes.

\"\'ello. You lookin\' for someone?\" He\'s quite a bit taller than me, and I have to crane my neck up and sideways to look into his face. I can see the apprehension in his eyes as well as the stubble on his dusky skin. His face has obviously not seen the sharp edge of a razor today, giving him a rugged, handsome appearance.

\"Oui.\" He says this quietly, smile playing at the corners of his mouth. \"Bonjour.\"

\"Ah, a Frenchman. Mmm.\" I wiggle my eyebrows and bite my tongue, doing my best to giggle like a schoolgirl.

\"Yes. From Marseilles originally.\" His English is too formal and refined, given away by his thick, rich accent. \"But enough of these, ah..\" he squints, looking for the right word, \"formalities. I believe both of we know what our business is this evening. Where can we go?\"

\"Right down to business, eh?\" He smiles at me and nods, obviously anxious to get out of the street. \"I have my own private little suite just up \'ere.\" I almost laugh at my own dark little joke. Not really much of a suite. More of a dank, rat-infested alleyway just out of the reach of the light of the streetlamps. Only a little white lie, though.

I hook his right arm in my left and guide him towards our destination. I can tell by his eyes that the alley wasn\'t what he was expecting. We stand, facing each other, just out of the flickering lamplight. The moon gives us some weak light.

\"Accommodations fit for a king.\" I gesture with my arms, brushing one wall with my sleeve. I can still hear the intermittent shouts and hum of the crowd that pass by our hiding-place, but muffled. I smile, but he\'s not listening. His eyes are already lower than my face, his fingers fumbling with the buttons on my jacket, and it occurs to me that witticisms don\'t matter anymore because it doesn\'t really matter in the end if a common street-whore is funny. Not our purpose.

So I shut my mouth and shrug my jacket off, tossing it over my shoulder so that I don\'t have to put it on the ground amidst the puddles. I reach down to unbuckle my trousers as he does the same. When he grabs me around the hips to turn me towards the wall I pull in a deep, deliberate breath and clench my eyes shut. I perform my duty with my palms pressed flat against the slimy, gritty stone wall, knees bent and braced painfully tight.

When he\'s done, there\'s a moment of closeness between us, his chest pressed against my back. I can feel his heat and quick breath through the cloth that separates us. Then he straightens up and I do the same, tugging my trousers up and turning to face him. My stomach is churning and I suddenly find myself trying not to cry, my face burning. I can\'t look at him but I can feel his eyes on me. I slide my arms back into the sleeves of my jacket and as I button it, he catches me unawares, kissing me lightly on the forehead., a strangely intimate gesture considering the circumstances.

I hear the familiar metallic jingle as he reaches into his jacket and I instinctively hold out my hands like a beggar, cursing myself for being so well trained. But he drops his fistful of coins onto the ground at our feet and they bounce and scatter in all directions, most of them off into the murkiness towards the back of the alley.

\"Merci, mon cher.\" And he walks off. The hatred that rushes through my head seems almost physically tangible. I fleetingly think of following him and murdering him in his sleep, but like a puppet, I\'m already on my knees by the time his polished shoes disappear from view. My fingers scrabble over the wet ground, searching blindly in the dark. I\'m shaking, sure that any minute I will come in contact with the wet, furry sleekness of rat or something worse. I find a few of the coins, slimy with muddy water. I give up after what seems like an eternity. And straighten up. The knees of my trousers are soaked.

I walk stiffly back to Yuri and Finn, disgusted with myself and everyone else. They are still talking to the two women. Not much time has passed, for them anyway. He has acquired a bottle of something, which is wrapped in greasy newspaper in his left hand. As I near, one of the women hands him her half-smoked cigarette and she and her friend go off on the arms of a smiling, fat man. He takes a drag and whispers something to Yuri, who smiles and slaps him playfully.

My face is blank as I hold out my hand of money to Finny, he being the undisputed keeper of our finances. He looks me up and down, drawing his own conclusions from my wet knees and vacant, revolted look. He hands me the bottle without a word, knowing look in his eyes. I take a swig. Very cheap wine. I pluck the cigarette from his lips and jam it into my mouth, letting the smoke fill my lungs and make me lightheaded, if only for a minute.

As if on cue, another man walks appears , giving us a livestock-appraising look from twenty paces away. All at once we notice him, and Finn steps up for his term.

\"Hello there.\" Finn has his most submissive grin on.

The man stops in front of us, smiling. There is something off about his cockiness, the way he keeps looking off around the corner.

\"How much?\" He moves from foot to foot nervously.

\"Well, well. Let\'s go somewhere a little more private and discuss that.\" Finn swoops in on him, trying to guide him down the street with an arm around his waist.

\"Not just you. For the whole lot, I mean.\" Finn stops in his tracks, and cocks his head. Yuri looks up at me, face scrunched questioningly, and I shrug.

\"All three of us?\" The guy nods.

\"Alright.\" Finn beckons the two of us and we follow.

\"Just around \'ere\". We follow the mysterious man, turning the corner.

The first thing I see is a row of glinting silver buttons.

\"Boys, it\'s nice to meet you.\" A cop staring at us, his nightstick held menacingly in one hand. I watch as he hands our mysterious customer a couple of coins and they shake hands. Finn watches incredulously. He looks about to explode.

\"Oh, fuck you.\" Before he can duck, the cop hits him across the face with the back of his hand. Finn doubles over, bent at the waist. He spits and in the weak light, it looks black. Blood. I reach over to rub his back between his shoulderblades. The cop raps my knuckles with his stick.

\"None of that shit. It\'s disgusting, what you boys get up to. Disgusting!\"

I\'m about to open my big mouth when Finn holds up a hand to silence me. He straightens up and I can see that his bottom lip is split. He runs his tongue carefully over his teeth, first the bottom set, then the top, making sure they\'re all present and accounted for. He raises his eyes to glare defiantly at the cop, who grins at us cruelly.

\"The lot of you are under arrest.\"

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*evil thunderclap music* Oh no, holy cliffhanger batman! Whatever will they do?!

(don\'t ask me, I\'ve no idea either.)

And I KNOW scruff is not a verb, you don\'t need to tell me. Don\'t worry about it, an in-joke. Scruff a pretty boy today! Indeed.

Ciao, xo.