Furtive | Tronnor

t w e l v e

Away from the hysteria and bright lights, Troye found himself in a relatively normal looking room. Connor's hand was still keeping a firm hold on his as he lead him inside, closing the door almost immediately and subduing the chatter and general noise of The Lovers Club.

The private room, as it so happens, contained only a four poster bed with crimson colour sheets, a cream carpet and wardrobes that Troye wasn't exactly sure he wanted to glance inside of. After all, the place was a brothel of sorts and customer kinks were obviously an area that was catered towards.

"You really only want to talk?" Connor's voice slurred a little when he brought forward the question, his pupils blown wide as Troye's attention was turned back towards the boy at hand.

"Why would I lie?" Troye gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, as if he was trying to prove his innocence.

"You could easily take advantage of me like everybody else does."

Troye could feel a lump forming in his throat again, with the casual tone Connor gave to such a grim statement throwing him off-guard.

"Let's just sit down okay?" He responded in a semi-calm tone, guiding Connor towards the bed and making sure to keep a distance between them as they sat down.

"I'm not so good at talking." Connor turned towards Troye with a frown, his head tipping to one side.

Troye chuckled. "You and I both know that's a lie."

"How come?"

"We've talked countless times. About lots of different things."

"Not when we've been in this setting though. In a place like this." Connor paused for a few moments, staring downs at his hands. "When we've been alone like this."

Troye could feel heat burn in his cheeks, his usually chilled and unabashed persona slipping away with every word that Connor said.

"Have you considered leaving this place?"

Connor sighed, the sound drawn out as he rubbed his eyes. It seemed he was coming down from his earlier intoxication, with Troye presuming that whatever he had taken had been in his system for a good few hours prior to his arrival.

"There are days where I want to run and never look back. Set my mind free from the madness. Burn all the money I made."

"Why burn the money?"

Connor shrugged. "It's blood money, damaged property, corrupted. Everything I earn is because of the façade I put on and the things that I do or give to people."

"Then why are you still here?"

Connor glanced forward, his sight fixed on a sign above the door:

provide all services with a smile and to the greatest of your abilities

"It makes me feel like I'm achieving something."

"Sleeping with random men and women make you feel like you're achieving something?" Troye raised his eyebrows, his own eyes trained on Connor's troubled expression.

"Messed up isn't it? I can't really explain it but...I don't know, when you give people what they want, when you relax them and make them feel at ease it's just a nice feeling."

"Even if they're hurting you in the process?"

Connor redirected his attention back towards Troye, his hands dropping to his sides as he spoke. "When I'm in this establishment, nothing I do matters. Whatever I say or want or need isn't relevant; it's all about the other person."