Closer

Untitled Part 3

As they walked out of Otis's studio, Otis hoped to god that his manager hadn't heard him. He had tried to be as quiet as he could, but it just felt...Too. Damn. Good.

"So uh...Uh...Just uh..."

"How do I keep it clean, Otis?" She asked, knowing he was still in a daze from everything that had just happened.

"Oh, right uh...You just...wash it gently 3 times a day with unscented soap and then put unscented ointment on it. Keep it moisturized and clean.

"Ok. Should I come back?"

"Uh...Yeah if you have any problems just come in, I'll be here. And I wanna see it in two weeks when it's healed."

"Ok. You have my number in your book." She winked. "See you later. Thanks, Otis!"

"Yeah, sure."

His manager turned, a shit grin on his face. "You alright?"

"Mm-hm. Yeah. I'm good."

"Your uh. Your face is all flushed."

"What?" He pat his face frantically. "Oh. Didn't notice."

"I've never seen you frazzled. She really-" His jaw dropped with a realization. "OH MY GOD."

"What?!"

"She fucked you!"

Otis's face turned bright red. "Duke, I-"

He let out an uproarious laugh. "DUDE! YOU GOT LAID IN THE STUDIO!?"

"Technically-"

"OH MY GOD YOU GOT A BLOWJOB!" He cackled. "THAT'S FUCKING AWESOME!"

Otis let out a sigh of relief. "God, I thought you were going to fire me."

"Oh, hell no. I think it's hilarious. Was that your tip!?"

"...My tip WASN'T just the tip." Otis wiggled his eyebrows, accepting a high-five from Duke.

"My man! That's why your face is all flushed."

Otis nodded. "Yeah..."

"So...How do you know that girl?"

"U-uh...We...We just go way back, that's all."

"Mm. Somethin' I don't need to know about your past?"

"Yeah...Somethin' like that."

"You...WORTHLESS piece of SHIT!" The owner of the brothel back-handed him, sending Otis backward and onto the floor. The screaming and yelling proceeded for what seemed to Otis like forever, but was probably only 10 minutes or so. He finally left, slamming the door behind him; leaving the 16 year old grovelling on the floor.

"Hey, hey...It's okay." A beautiful black haired woman approached him slowly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're okay."

Otis flinched, staring wildly at the woman in confusion.

"It's okay. Why was he yelling at you?"

"I-I...I didn't please a client...But I...I-"

"You don't have to explain to me. It's okay. Come on, let's get you cleaned up honey." She helped Otis stand and sat him on the bed, then gathering the first aid kit and beginning to care for his split lip. He flinched away from her, beginning to shake. "It's okay. Just trust me, okay?"

"No..." He shook wildly, drawing in on himself.

"Hasn't...Anyone ever touched you without hurting you?"

"N...Not really..."

"I promise I won't hurt you. I promise. You have to let me take care of you, though, okay?"

"O..Okay..."

Otis cooperated with her until she had him fixed up to her satisfaction, then gently tucking him into bed.

"Who are you...?" He asked, confusion and fear still present in his ruby eyes.

"My name is Dahlia. I've worked here for a few years. You get to know how to survive. It gets better, I promise. And I'm going to help you. Because you seem awful sweet to keep getting hurt. So we're gonna work on it, okay?"

"Okay..."

"What's your name?"

"Otis..."

"Nice to meet you, Otis. I'm going to help it get better, okay? You're going to be alright."

"Okay..."

Driving Home, Otis was distracted. The memories were flooding back too quickly. Things he had had buried since he left that place.

They sat together, Otis nursing an injured back with an ice pack and booze.

"God...That hurts...Asshole bent me in a way I can't bend..."

"You okay?"

"Yeah...My back really hurts though...Let's talk about something else..."

"Otis, you ever made love?"

"What? Are you kidding me? We work at a fucking brothel, Dahlia."

"No, no. Having sex is different than making love. Have you ever had good, consensual sex?"

"No..." He admitted, looking down at his hands. "It's always...been horrible. If I'm being honest...I'm not sure at all why people seek it out the way they do. It hurts. It's humiliating...You feel disgusting afterward."

Dahlia snorted. "No, honey. That's not at all how it's supposed to be." She crawled over to him seductively. "Why don't you let me show you how its supposed to feel?"

Otis laughed, then cringing in pain at his back. "You and me?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"How can you see me and think of anything but pity. And disgust. And..."

"Otis, no. Come here, baby boy." She crawled into his lap, straddling him and kissing him gently. "You are not pitiful. You are not disgusting." Another sweet kiss. "Don't let anyone tell you you're anything but beautiful." She ran her fingers through his shorn hair, then resting a hand on his cheek.

His breath caught in his throat and he stared at her wide-eyed, his heart pounding. "I-I...I really liked that..."

"Yeah? That's how its supposed to feel, honey."

"I...Want to feel that again..."

"Let's give you a little more than that, huh, hon?"

Otis shuddered at the memory. It was a good one, technically, but it still felt...Misplaced. Unhappy.

Now she was back and bringing back all these memories with her. He wouldn't lie to himself and say he wasn't happy to see her. She had gotten him through so much SHIT...He often thought about her on nights he couldn't sleep. Wondered where she was or how she was doing. If she was still alive.

Now he had his answer, and he wasn't entirely sure what to do with the information. Nor was he sure of what she wanted, or how it would work or what would happen.

He had to chuckle. His life had seemed stable. He should have known nothing would be too stable for too long. He should be happy, this was a good unstable. But it still made him nervous.