Please Please Me * McLennon * DISCONTINUED

five

I could kill a bitch.

Not even fifteen minutes later there is a loud banging on my wall. The shreiking sound of wood on wood. Oh and that isn't even the worst of it. Loud music started playing and the thudding on the wall only duplicated, echoing through my over worked brain like a gong. I groan so frustratedly into the musty pillow that i feel my vocal chords tremble in anger.

"Can a man not get a good fuckin' nap around 'ere!" I growl, but continue to lay there, using all my will power to wish the horrid noises away. Of course the one room in the motel that i happen to stay is right next to the fucking jukebox. I reluctantly get up from the box-like matteress after a few long minutes of conflict, and groan once a wave of nausea hits me. I swear i feel like i have a hangover.

Storming out of my room, i stumble into the wall a bit, my legs just wanting to give way and go back to that lumpy old bed. But eventually, i make it to my neighbour's door, and knock on the wood vigorously with my knuckle, praying it's loud enough for someone to hear over the deafening music.

I prepare my lengthy lecture to the person in the room as i hear the door start to open.

"I just want to fucking sleep! Is tha-,....-..-Paul?" I frown, my eyes falling upon the flustered doe-eyed boy. His hair was is all directions and he stood there in nothing but his briefs. "Wha....?" I frown, clearly very disoriented. "What yer doin' 'ere?" I ask but as if a silent answer to my question a tall, tanned man in a dark green velvet suit comes up behind him, a smirk clear on his face.

"Thanks for another lovely time, Paul dear. I'll be sure to arrive same time tomorrow. Ta ta." He smirks and presses a kiss against the light stubble of Paul's cheek, whispering something quietly in his ear and smiling. He finally looks up to me and grins flirtaiously, winking and as he walks past. He gets a little too close to comfort while slipping through the doorway, and just to top it all off with a cherry, he smacks my ass before walking down the motel hallway.

I scowl, about to turn around and punch the rich fucker right in that set of perfect teeth he has.

But then i turn my attention to Paul.

He stood in the doorway so awkwardly that you could cut the vibe around him with a knife, not looking up to meet my eyes at all.

"What the-!" I start, but he grabs my wrist, pulling me into his motel room, which smelt strongly of hot sex and heavy drugs, and was very hot and stuffy compared to the rest of the motel. He pulls me quickly into his quite large bathroom and scowls at a couple of lip-locked boys, yelling at them to get out. They naked couple scurry out of the bathroom giggling softly and eyeing us up.

On the walk into the bathroom, i stole a glance into the main living area.

It was dim, but loads of people crowded it, all either naked or in some form of lingrie.

"What the bloody heck is 'appening?! It-!" I start yelling, feeling slightly hurt by Paul, but he shakes his head and presses and hand over my mouth, leaning us both against a wall.

The sound of people walking by the bathroom echoed from behind the thin wooden door, but as the sound faded he realesed his grasp on me.

"What...." I frown, relying on my questioning eyes to ask the smaller boy infront of me all i that wanted to know. But he didn't look at me, even spare a glance. He continued to bob his head down low and not meet my eyes.

"What are yer doin' 'ere?" I ask although it really wasn't any of my darn business. To be honest i was a little disapointed that i didn't have Paul's undivided attention, because he certainly had mine. But it wasn't like it deserved it. We weren't lovers of any kind. Although.....i wouldn't mind that so much.

"I," Paul starts hesitantly, biting his lip nervously and glaring at me through his long lashes. "I work 'ere." He mutters and my brow furrows, surprised that this is actually his sex party. It was obvious that that was what it was. Nobody invites their friends around to get naked and strip. But he seemed far too young to already doing these sorts of things.

"Work?" I murmur, confused as to what he meant by that.

He scuffs his bare feet on the bright blue tile of the bathroom floor and slowly looks up at me, his eyes wide and childish, afraid almost.

"'m,....'m a whore, John." He states bluntly, not meeting my eyes, obviously ashamed of it. I almost gasp, but remain composed, taking in the information slowly. "That's how i can aford to live alone, yer see?" He almost whimpers, his voice so soft and almost scared. Once i don't say anything, or react in any way, he continues softly. "I don't 'ave much of a choice. My family needed fast money and i-i..." He trails off, a choke in his voice, and i finally look up to him.

His small, pale body was shuddering back and forth as he silently sobbed into his hands, as he stood like a fragile doll, ready to break at any given moment.

"'m s-or-ry." He sobs, his voice breaking as he stands in the middle of the bathroom crying.

I could deal with people being emotional. But not when they were crying. It made me feel strange and unbelievably uncomfortable. It wasn't even their fault, i understood why people cried, but i had no clue how to deal with it. I looked down upon the little raven haired boy infront of me. He seemed so small and dependent, and hurt.

And i didn't want him be.

"Hey," i coo and stride of to him, wrapping my arms around his frail little figure, figuring it's the best thing i can possibly do. "nothin' to be sorry 'bout." I mutter and pet his hair soothingly, rubbing circles into the bare skin of his back.

"I just hate it so much. 'm so embarrassed." He mutters and grips his arms around my shoulders, digging his face into the crook of my neck. "i don't wanna do shit like this, but i have to." He mumbles into my skin and i hold him tighter, empathy coursing through my veins at a dizzying speed.

I had been in his shoes so many fucking times before. Of course not the exact same circumstances as his, but the feeling of helplessness was a curse i experienced daily. I just wanted to hold him and let him know it was all alright, but of course i knew it wasn't. Whores were not at all treated well. I wasn't so sure about male sex workers, but i knew women on the streets selling themselves and it was hideous. They were treated so darn horribly it made me sick, and the things they had to do were even worse.

Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door, making us both jump and break away from the calming embrace.

"James Paul! You little fuckin' slut! Get out 'ere and let me fuck yer goddarn brains out!" A deep voice slurs from the otherside of the door, obviously very intoxicated. Paul seems to cringe at the words and as the voice leaves he turns to me, desperation in his infantile hazel eyes.

"Yer need to leave." He orders and starts to unbotton my shirt.

"What are yer doin'?!" I whisper shout and back away from him. His eyes plead for me to co-operate and he almost sighs in annoyance.

"It'll look weird and suspicious if yer walk out with clothes on!" He pleads and tries again, me still stubbornly hesitant. "Please John! We don't have much time!" The smaller boy begs so desperately, his voice full of nothing but pure fear. I nod slowly and help him to unbutton my shirt. Slidding it off of my shoulder, i strip down to nothing but my briefs and he bundles my clothes in his arms.

"Once i'm done, i'll throw these out of the window," He explains. And seeing as we were only on the first floor, i nod. But i can't help buy wonder what he has to finish first. "But yer need to leave now!" He shreeches and opens the bathroom door, leading me to the front of his motel room, through the sweaty and crowded hallway.

"Goodbye, John." He says and smiles a tad, his lips turning upward cutely.

"See yer tomorrow, like we said?" I asked and he pecks me on the cheek, nodding with a shy smirk, before i'm pushed out of the door and into the cold motel hallway, in nothing up my briefs.

Well that was unexpected.