Priceless. (boyxboy)

Chapter 1.

“That wasn’t what we agreed on.” I noted, getting a few of my clothes thrown in the face as an answer. Great – I got the nasty, proud type for the end of this night.

The cold wind was making my bare skin shiver, as I began dressing up in the middle of the street. Today was .. not a good day. When winter came, I found it harder than usual to do the only job I had left. I was broke when I first started – losing weight from skipped meals and stress. I wasn’t really fat, anyway. I’ve always been thin. Always looking like a starving, homeless orphan on the streets.

“Whatever.” The man from the car in front of me threw 50 bucks on the ground and I looked at him, indignation painted all over my face. I was half-naked, barely gotten my shirt on, and he wanted me to chase my own reward in that condition in the cold?

“I’m not a dog.” I frowned.

“No, you’re a bitch.” He snorted just as his car roared with life and left me alone; the artificial wind behind it blowing my money in the air.

I cursed under my breath and decided to chase it, dollar after dollar, naked. My feet made a funny, dull slapping noise against the cold ground as I ran towards the flying paper, catching everything I could. It was no longer shameful to run around with a naked ass in the cold for the sake of some noodles again. I’ve been doing it for a couple of years now, and to be honest, it has become my way of living. I wouldn’t want it to change.

In the beginning, I wished for a normal life. A house of my own, a job, better education. Friends. A family, maybe .. And I had it. I had it all, and I lost it all, and now I’m …

A car stopped next to me, and I lifted my gaze, holding thirty-eight bucks in my hands. The vehicle was an expensive Jaguar Land Rover, and it looked stunning with the street lamp’s lights reflecting on its black, shiny paint. I could barely hear it – it was soundless and powerful at the same time. I’ve always dreamt of having such a car, but I never passed my driving license exam, and I couldn’t try again because I lacked the money.

The black tinted windows were making it impossible for me to see who was on the inside, but as the right one went down just a centimeter to make a conversation occur, I couldn’t help but gasp at the voice.

“Would you like help?” were the words that accompanied that honey voice. It was a male one, definitely, but it seemed so warm and welcoming. I almost shivered at how gentle the tone was, feeling envious of the girl that guy was probably married to, or in a relationship with. I mean, all good guys were like this. Either married, in a relationship or .. straight, in my situation.

“Help is not free.” I quietly replied, realizing my own weiner was hanging in the cold, barely hidden by the long, dirty shirt I was wearing. My slim body was trembling from the chilly wind, yet my voice came out steady. “For a blowjob it’s thirty bucks, for intercourse – fifty, for both it’s eighty, unless you empty yourself inside me – then it’s ninety-five.” Silence followed my explanation, after which a startled cough and throat-clearing, followed by a fake laugh. I lifted my eyebrow in confusion, not quite sure if I had to tell him the origin of that last price. Having unprotected sex was bad enough – I didn’t want any sperm left inside me. I usually wandered the trafficway from 4PM to 1, maybe 2AM. Having the white liquid in that spot for this long was not a very pleasant and aromatic thing, and I learned that the hard way. Of course, wet wipes help refresh yourself a little, but I couldn’t reach that far without a bath. I stayed at a love hotel – the worst in town, where I continued my work until 4, sometimes 5AM, after which I took long and good baths to clean myself as best as I could. At least they had warm water regularly. When I had busy weeks, I just took some nice showers everyday – one in the ‘morning’, before I leave, and another in the ‘evening’, when I come home. Sometimes I did it more than twice a day, because I wanted to be clean and fresh for at least a few hours. Having sex with strangers was something I could deal with, but being all sweaty and dirty all day was a big turn off for both me and my clients. Most of them.

“I didn’t think you are a prostitute.” The man in the car said, lowering his window further. It was still hard to see, since his car was dark inside. He probably turned off the lights intentionally, so that I won’t be able to see his ugly face. Ugh, how can a person with such a beautiful voice be ugly?

“I didn’t think you’re not a client.’ I countered. This short conversation was starting to get on my nerves. I was naked, cold and the rest of those 50 bucks had probably flew too far for me to get them. Great. So I was going to catch a flu AND be broke. Nothing new.

Then he said something different. Something I didn’t usually get from clients. Yes, they did invite me in their home to spend the night, probably out of pity, but they never really cared what happens to me the next day, when I leave. Funny how prostitution works. I remember every single guy I had sex with, but I bet less than two of those guys remembered me.

“I’m not. I offered you help, I’m a friend.”

“Wow. How dumb do you think I am? I already fell for that once and I ended up being chained in some basement, high on rohypnol and fucked for free.” I frowned, crossing my arms. Yeah, it wasn’t a pleasant experience, but one can learn new things every day.

Then he surprised me again. He opened the car door and stretched his hand forward. I still couldn’t see his face, but I caught a glimpse of blonde hair with a very nice, soft texture.

“If that happens, you have all you need to send me to prison. My ID card is in my wallet, and my wallet is in my hand, a few centimeters from yours. I’m Aiden Croft, twenty-one years old. I’m a professional singer and a regular donator to the city orphanage. I’m single, I have a Chihuahua named SirBitesalot and a pug, Milo. I live in a house a few streets away and I share it with my maid, who cleans and cooks when I can’t. I’m an honest man most of the time. I hate horror movies and like Disney. I sleep with the lights on, I like spaghetti Bolognese and I am really offering you help. Trust me and get in the car – it’s probably going to be the safest thing you’ll do in your life.”

I blinked in shock and looked at the wallet in his hand. It was a fat wallet, and I could grab it and run away with the money immediately. What I did in reality, of course, was .. totally different.

I walked around his car and opened the left door. I warily looked at his figure in the darkness, and sat next to him. He seemed slim and young, but for God’s sake, why won’t he turn on the lights.

“It’s rather dark here.” I commented.

“Oh, yes, sorry. I often turn off the lamps in the car to help me pay more attention to the road.”

“Oh? So it’s not because you’re ugly?”

“I .. no, of course not. Besides, everyone is beautiful in their own way. If you want, I’ll turn on the lights!” I could feel his smile when he said that, and the next thing I heard was the quiet ‘click’.

Let there be lights.