The Price of Love (Boyxboy)

1

alex p.o.v.

I glanced nervously at my watch as the other men around me laughed hysterically at Tulley's joke. We were looking to partner with a new company, and my secretary had forgotten to book the reservations at my preferred restaurant. I was waiting for a call from Peter Howes to see if he had any open tables. If not, we would have to resort to middle class dining.

Just then, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen which flashed bright with Peter's name. I answered it.

"Reynolds speaking. Really? You're a lifesaver Howes. I owe you. We'll be there in ten. Thanks," I said, and hung up. The other men looked at me expectantly. "He has one table left for us."

"Fantastic!" Tulley said, standing up and stretching his legs. "Come along men. You haven't tasted food until you've tasted food from Howes."

They walked along behind him, chatting and trading jokes. I stared at them for a second. Normally, I would be with them, trying to make a good impression. But right now, my heart wasn't in it. Tonight, I just felt...empty.

miles p.o.v.

I methodically wiped the table in slow, concentric circles, gathering the food in my towel and dumping it in the bin. The murmur of conversations surrounding me added to the noise of the music playing softly in the background. I meticulously placed a tablecloth over the now-clean surface, then added crisply folded napkins and cutlery in exactly the right places. I checked the table settings again before folding my towel and draping it over my shoulder.

As I walked through the bricked entrance to the kitchen, I heard raised voices in the corner.

"Michael, I don't care if you feel sick, until you begin vomiting in the food you serve, I can't let you go home! We have a huge crowd of people still lined up outside, and some extremely important guests of mine are coming here on business! I need all the waiters and waitresses I have!"

It was Howes. I shambled over to the corner, trying to see what was going on. Howes looked angry, and Michael looked uncomfortable, holding his midsection with a look of pain on his face. Without thinking, I stepped forward.

"I can cover for him Mr. Howes," I said. Howes and Michael both looked at me. "I've gotten the training, but you've always had enough people. Besides, I think it would be bad for business if Michael accidentally coughed in an order and got everyone on that table sick."

Howes stared at me for a moment, a vein beneath his eye twitching.

"Fine. Michael, go home. You'd better be feeling fine by tomorrow. You...Mitch was it? You put on an apron and tidy up a bit. Don't forget your notebook. Be polite or I will personally see to it that you never get a job in any restaurant again."

"Thank you Mr. Howes," Michael and I said at the same time. Michael winked at me as he passed and mouthed "You owe me." I nodded at him and grabbed an apron from the rack, stuffing a notebook and pen into the pocket. I glanced around the kitchen and spotted Hazel struggling to load her serving tray.

I rushed over to her, grinning like a maniac. I snagged one of the plates she was trying to add to the tray and gently placed it on the edge. She breathed a sigh of relief and nervously pushed back a loose strand of hair with her free hand. Hazel looked me up and down, then squealed with delight, almost losing her tray in the process.

"You did it! You finally did it!" She grinned. I laughed, consumed with glee.

I was finally a waiter.

It was the best day of my life.

dean p.o.v.

The moans from the man below me were growing louder and more intense. I glanced nervously around at the thin walls surrounding us. Judging from his volume when I was barely thrusting, I could guess that when he came, the motel would have some complaints.

I shrugged it off and tried to focus. He writhed around, and it was starting to get difficult to hit his g-spot every time. I rolled my eyes and thrust harder, a smirk blossoming on my face as his moans grew by another decibel. I reached around his hips, maintaining my rythym, and lifted him up slightly, angling him towards me, then thrust hard, three times, right on the spot. He came immediately, a loud moan resounding through the room as he found his release.

I sighed and pulled out as he collapsed into his own sticky puddle, exhausted. Just another day of business. The guy had barely lasted an hour, and he was already worn out. The stamina these days was disappointing. I padded softly to the bathroom and shut the door. Sighing again, I grabbed my length and came quickly with a few long hard strokes. When I was done, I grabbed a towel off the rack and cleaned up the mess.

This was the fifth time in two days I'd had to give it to myself. Normally, I could go on command so the other person wouldn't feel bad. Either that, or I'd even have to hold on to get the whole hour in. But now, nothing was doing it for me. Not even the props, which I loved.

I let out a frustrated sigh, running my hand through my hair. I placed both hands on the side of the sink, supporting myself as I looked into the mirror.

People say that my best feature is my face. A strong jaw with delicate cheekbones, kissable lips, a small nose, dimples, and well-styled hair as the cherry on top seems to be the killer combo. However, I think my best features are my eyes.

They're bright blue, with tiny flecks of green and grey littered throughout them. They change color when I'm upset, becoming a dark blue-grey. When I'm enjoying myself, they have more green. When I'm fucking someone, they turn a bright, clear blue when I come. Right now though, there were grey streaks clouding the irises.

I blinked, breaking my train of thought. I turned and opened the door to the bedroom. I snatched my pants off the floor, pulling my briefs on then attemping to slide my legs through the ripped legs of my jeans. I grabbed my grey v-neck shirt from the bedside table, snatching the $200 and stuffing it in my pocket. Sliding the skin-tight shirt over my head, I walked back to the bathroom to check that my makeup was perfect.

When I was certain it was, I fixed my hair and softly opened the motel door, so as not to disturb the sleeping man on the bed. I pulled the door shut behind me and left the motel, positioning myself on the wall near some fancy restaurant. I stood there, waiting for my next customer as my eyes steadily grew more and more grey.