The Whorefic Series

Series: Wilde/ From Hell
Pairing: Fredrick Abberline/ Rentboy
Chapter Summary: Inspector Abberline finds himself unusually drawn to the boy from the streets.
Warnings: Violence, gore, drug use, dark themes.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money off them.
Notes: For “Padding the Pages” challenge on charactersinbloom.com.

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It is said that you never remember much of when you’re intoxicated. It is said that when you’re under the influence your senses are dulled considerably and anything you may have seen, done, or felt only loiters around your brain as a vague dream.

So if something sticks, something you can remember vividly… what does it mean? Does it mean that the toxicity of your amphetamines was low? Does it mean that your body’s level of resistance may have increased? Or does it mean that the thing that lingers, the one whose memory is as ripe as sweet honeydew, had such an impact on your senses that no amount of hallucinogenic could subdue its flamboyance?

Perhaps all of the above. Perhaps neither. Perhaps the memory itself is just a figment of your imagination. Who knows really?

But…

I can still feel him. I can feel his warm body pressed against me and his soft sugary lips devour mine. I can hear his melodic velvety voice echo in my head. And I can still see his face – his radiant boyish face with hypnotizing brown eyes, perfect cheekbones, and alluring mouth.


“Back for more Inspector?”

He was more beautiful than I remembered. Every waking moment over the past week I’d thought of him, and of that one sweet kiss he’d bewitched me with exactly seven nights ago. Tonight he was adorned in burgundy; deep rich burgundy as tempting as a ripe cherry.

“What have you done to me?” I asked, almost beginning to believe that there may have been a trace of witchcraft involved. He just smirked. Could he sense the heat pooling in my body at the very sight of him? Did he know what kind of effect his simple movements had on me? Of course he did. He was like a drug, but more powerful than any opium derivative, and he knew it. “How come you remember me?” I asked in an attempt to distract myself form being further entranced, “In a business like yours you’d be encountering more people in a day than I care to think of.”

“I’m good with faces,” he replied, and suddenly reduced the space between us to just a millimeter. He brought his hand up and gently stroked the side of my face, “Especially ones as handsome as yours.”

Once again I could feel his intoxicating heat. Instantly I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away. “I have a wife!”

That was a lie. The truth was I USED to have a wife, one who died giving birth to our stillborn son. How long ago had that even been?

“Most men who come to me have wives. Are you unfamiliar with the concept of adultery?” Even in sarcasm his voice was alluring.

How could I resist? When the temptation of doing myself bodily harm with narcotics was irresistible, how could I possibly overcome my desire to copulate? Especially with a captivating creature like this right in front of me.

We rented a seedy little room that night, and I let go off all my inhibitions. For once I let my basic instincts take control of my body without having to worry about the consequences. I didn’t think for a moment if our loud cries would’ve been heard by anyone near by, or if Godley would have been searching every opium den in the city looking for me. How could I? I was intoxicated. And not by absinthe or opium, but by this gorgeous boy himself. Everything about him… his firm slender body, that unbelievably soft and smooth skin that would glow so beautifully in the dim candlelight, those tantalizing brown eyes and sugary pink lips. Even the feel of his lustrous chocolate curls captivated me.

I went to him nearly every night after that. He was the most addictive drug I’d ever taken.

Oddly enough, we often conversed after the sex. I’d told him all about my life, my work, my increasing dependency on narcotics, even of my wife’s death. He told me about himself too; that he was the son of a wealthy businessman and had been disowned by his family 2 years earlier when they’d discovered his homosexuality. He was only 16 at the time. But he never told me his name…


“Must you leave so soon Frederick?”

I looked over to the naked young body sprawled across the bed. He was glowing from being ravaged just moments ago and a thin sheen of sweat lingered on his lithe frame, adding to his luminousness. The pale smoky-blue sheets all around him framed his body perfectly, making it look like a cloud was caressing him. So beautiful!

But as enchanting as that vision was, I forced myself to look away. “Yes,” I replied, quickly getting into my trousers and buttoning up my shirt. “I must be up early tomorrow,” I pulled out some money from my pocket, but just as I was about to place it on the dresser he stopped me.

“There’s no need for that.”

I paused for a second, confused. “Why?”

At that moment I saw an alien glint in his eyes, one that almost made him look vulnerable. But then just like that it vanished. He immediately pulled the bedclothes up around him and turned away from me. “Just go.”

It may have been my imagination, but I thought I’d heard a slight tremble in his voice. I just stood there, completely baffled, wondering what happened all of a sudden. He continued to face away from me and seemed determined to stay that way until I left. So I did.

I didn’t go to him the next day, or the day after, or the day after that. Before I knew it, nearly a fortnight had passed, and my thoughts loitered towards him whenever they weren’t occupied with anything else. The funny thing was, I still didn’t know his name.

Then one day I had an odd vision of him: He was in my bed, completely naked, looking up at me with a smile. He was trying to say something but I couldn’t hear. He kept repeating it over and over again, but in vain. Judging from the happiness on his face however, I knew it was something pleasant.

One thing that really struck me as being curious was the manner in which he was looking at me. He wasn’t being seductive or proud, but warm… almost affectionate. More importantly, despite his state of undress, he didn’t look like the alluring whore I was familiar with; he just looked like a boy – a happy, sweet, beautiful boy.

That night as I reached home, something didn’t feel right. I couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but it gave me the urge to dull my senses yet again.

“Frederick?”

I almost dropped the bottle of absinthe in my hand. “You!”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Your landlady let me in.”

How did he know where I lived? Why was he even here? Suddenly the feeling of unease came again, only stronger this time. It must have something to do with this boy… I studied him for a moment. He was wearing a long brown coat over something black, his hair was unruly and his face seemed a little too pale than it should have been. He looked anxious. Something was definitely not right. “What’s the matter?”

“I need your help Inspector… I went to the station & they sent me here. The Sergeant there, Sgt. Peter Godley I think, he said that you’d be the best person for this… it’s a coincidence! I never told him anything… about knowing you that is. I’m sure he never suspected either…”

“Calm down!” I’d never seen like that. He was on the verge of hyperventilating! “Take it easy now,” I spoke as soothingly as I could while gently gripping his shoulders and leading him to the sofa. He looked like a terrified little child. “Everything’s going to be alright,” I reassured, placing my hands comfortingly over his trembling ones, “just tell me what’s wrong.”

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. I could feel his cold hands gripping mine. “Somebody wants to kill me. They’ve already tried once… I don’t know if I’ll be lucky next time.”

He told me he’d been receiving threatening letters over the past 10 days, and the last one came with a severed cat’s head. And just a few hours ago, a masked man attacked him. Luckily he escaped with just a few bruises.

“I have no idea who it could have been,” he said, fear and worry etched into his beautiful face. “The Sergeant said something about your special gift. I don’t know what he meant by it but he told me it helped solve other cases in the past…” The boy paused for a moment and I was surprised to see a small smile forming on his lips. “My name’s Daniel Fletcher by the way.”

I pursed my lips and nodded, taking in all the information. I knew he was telling the truth. Not even the greatest actor in the world could put up such a performance.

Daniel… I’d always been fond of that name. “Have you got anywhere safe you can stay tonight?”

“My room,” he nodded, “I don’t share it with anyone but…”

“No,” I cut in, “he’ll expect you to be there. You can’t risk it.”

“I can’t afford any other place! The owner lets me stay there if I suck him off twice a week; doubt if I’ll get that bargain anywhere else!”

After thinking silently for a few moments, I came to a decision. “Stay here then, no payment necessary.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“You are officially under police protection, Mr Fletcher.” I tried to sound as authoritative as I could, knowing very well that it didn’t fall under my jurist diction to offer anyone such asylum. However, I also knew that I couldn’t just let this boy be a sitting duck for an obviously deranged stalker. “You are required to stay within these premises unless escorted by an officer, or until we deem it safe enough for you to be out on your own again.”

Daniel looked up at me at me with a small smile and a relieved glint in his eyes. “Thank you.”

I let him take the bed that night while I opted for the couch. It was odd really; we’d been intimate so many times yet the idea of sleeping in the same bed with him tonight felt inappropriate.

I watched him in fascination as he slept, drinking in all his little details – how his semi-bare chest rose and fell gently with every breath he took, how his sleep-tousled chocolate curls lightly brushed over his ears and forehead, how his slightly parted lips looked like delicate pink rose petals… He looked so peaceful and innocent. Just then I realized how unlike he really was from the person I’d encountered on the street a month ago.

The alluring whore was a façade. He was just a child who’d been forced to live the life of prostitute due to circumstance. I felt a sharp stab of guilt when I realized I was no better than all those other perverts who would have taken advantage of him. How many did he even have to submit to? God knows what hell he’d been going through each time one took him.


“Oi! Look who’s got a new boyfriend!”

I turned to my side and saw Daniel wearing an ear-to-ear grin, making obscene hand-gestures at a redhead across the room. The redhead responded by making similar signals and bursting into a fit of giggles. Within seconds he was at the bar, and crushing Daniel in a firm embrace.

“You little squid Fletcher! No wonder you’ve been gone these past few days!” The redhead eyed me up and down as he released Daniel, and gave me an approving nod. “Patrick Miller,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand and smiling brightly.

“Fredrick Abberline.”

Patrick gave me an odd look as we shook hands. He must have been a few years older than Daniel, perhaps around 23. Suddenly, realization dawned upon him and he spoke, “You’re the inspector Danny-boy couldn’t shut-up about! He fancies the pants off you, you know.”

I’d never seen anyone look a brighter shade of pink than Daniel did at that moment. Immediately he denied his friend’s accusation, and the two young men indulged in a juvenile argument of teasing and name-calling.

A part of me found the childish spectacle rather amusing. The rest of me however, was craving opium.

It had been nearly 4 days since I’d indulged. For some reason I felt odd doing it with Daniel around, but now my body couldn’t hold out much longer. I needed it now, and I needed it bad. Besides, there were absolutely no breaks in the stalker case. If anything, I knew I could do with more clues and the best clues always were the drug-induced hallucinations.


Daniel in my bed, just like before… “Saint Everson!” he said with a smile, “Saint Everson kills!” He kept repeating that phrase over and over. Then his smile began to falter and gave way to tears. “Gone…” Suddenly everything turned red. I heard a scream and saw Patrick in front of me. He was holding a piece of black leather big enough to cover a man’s face. His right arm was decapitated and blood generously flowed from the gruesome stump where the limb should have been, and from a gaping wound in his chest. Then another man came into the picture. He was in his early 30’s, with curly blonde hair and bruises all over his stubbly face and nude torso. His trousers had a few bloodstains on them and he was holding some paper. Two more figures appeared, but before I could see their faces everything turned black.

“Get up!”

Groggily I opened my eyes and was greeted with the few minutes of after-high blurred vision I’d grown used to. Good old Godley…

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget this ever happened!” Godley’s voice seemed a little less commanding than usual, but it obviously had the required effect on the young officer with whose help I’d been brought back home. The young man just nodded before quickly leaving.

“Where’s Daniel?” I asked, as my face was pulled out of the ice-cold water that Godley always chose for me in situations like these.

“He’s asleep,” replied the large man as he handed me a towel, “it’s after 2 am.”

I nodded and buried my face in the towel. So typical of Peter Godley to be looking out for me like this. I was really grateful. Had it not been for him I might have ended up face down in a ditch somewhere a long time ago. I figured he only put up with my behavior because it would usually lead to more clues. And I was beginning to suspect that he rather enjoyed slapping me to my senses each time.

I told him about my vision that night. He was probably the only person who had faith in my apparitions at all. He made some notes and said he’d look up other case files and try to get more information. Good old reliable Godley… what would I do without him?

Just as I was about to fall asleep I heard a sound from the kitchen. Instantly I sat up and looked around. “Daniel? Is that you?”

Moments later a slender form walked into the room, holding a cup of warm milk. He was barefooted and wore only my old nightshirt, which almost reached down to his knees. “I thought you might like this,” he said, handing me the cup, “I’ve heard milk is good to neutralize toxins.”

“Thank you,” I replied with a small smile. “Sorry I woke you.”

“It ok,” Daniel smiled as he came and sat beside me on the sofa, “and I’m the one who should be thanking you. For everything.”

“I’m only doing my job…”

“Fredrick please,” he cut in, “I’m not stupid. I’ve never been to your police academy but I’m quite sure they don’t teach you to take in whores and treat them so decently.”

His words weren’t exactly harsh, but they hit a chord somewhere. “I’m just helping a fellow human being,” I said after a short silence, “that’s everyone’s job.”

The boy just smiled in response. He looked so beautiful at that moment, just like an angel. Quietly he moved his legs up onto the sofa and the shirt he was wearing rode up a little, revealing some of his smooth pale thigh. Immediately I looked away. I couldn’t let myself think that way about him, not now. But before I knew it a pair of lithe arms wrapped around my neck and a soft warm mouth pressed onto mine.

I just sat there, completely stunned. Soon my lips began to involuntarily move against the familiarly sweet ones and I felt my thighs being straddled. This couldn’t be right!

“Before you say anything,” Daniel whispered against my mouth, “this isn’t payment of any sort.” He pulled back a little and looked at me. His twinkling brown eyes were clouded over with something unreadable, which made me furrow my brow in question. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself and leaned in to kiss me again.

Unable to resist any longer, I brought my hands up to his waist. Wantonly we moved our mouths together as our tongues and lips seemed to take on a life of their own. He began unbuttoning my shirt and I gently kneaded his slender hips and naked thighs. His skin was so soft and warm… I could feel myself getting lost in the inviting sensations created by the simple contact. Once my shirt was off, he started kissing a trail down my neck and chest. I began to ride my hands up his sides, pulling the shirt up as well, and then slid it off him entirely.

The result was mesmerizing. He was completely naked in my lap, and looked even more stunning than I remembered. I just gazed at him in awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Daniel asked shyly. He was blushing a little, which made him look even more breathtaking.

“You’re so beautiful,” I replied. Gently I caressed his radiant face and ran my thumb over his slightly parted pink lips. He closed his eyes and sighed, then began placing light kisses on my digits that came to his mouth. I pulled him close and nuzzled his baby soft skin, relishing the sweet fragrance it seemed to emit. He ran his slender fingers through my dark hair and tilted his neck up as I pressed my lips to it. He whimpered when my mouth found that one particular spot that always got a reaction and I felt his semi-hard cock poking me in the stomach.

He gasped loudly when my finger lightly traced the contours of his manhood and I felt it grow in my hands. “Please don’t stop…” he breathily pleaded as his hips began to buck. But I did stop for a moment, only to lay him down comfortably on his back so I could properly perch myself over him. I leaned down to kiss him again and savored the sweetness that was Daniel Fletcher. When we parted he looked up at me and gave me one of the warmest smiles I’d ever seen. Odd; deja vu…

I froze.

Instantly I sat up and squeezed my eyes shut. I could feel an unpleasant surge of heat within me and my mind was flooded with swarms of horrid images from my past few visions.

“Fredrick…?” Daniel sounded confused. He gently removed my hands from over my eyes and gave me a concerned look. “Are you alright?”

“Where’s Patrick?” I asked plainly, remembering the redhead’s decapitated arm and chest-wound from my hallucination.

Daniel furrowed his brow, looking completely baffled. “Probably sleeping in his bed.”

“He might be in danger…”

I told Daniel of my visions, though I never gave him the gory details in which I’d seen his friend mutilated. By the end of it he was plagued with worry and concern for his own and Patrick’s safety.

“He’ll be safe as long as he stays off the streets,” I reassured the fearful young man by my side. “If his sister’s house is as secure as you say he’s got nothing to worry about.” Apparently, Patrick Miller was one of the few prostitutes who didn’t do it for the money. He had certain urges that not even the most perfect women could fulfill and therefore, he’d acquired a new hobby and part-time job. He lived with his sister and her husband, neither of who had any idea of his little secret.

I draped a comforting arm around Daniel’s shoulders and placed a small kiss on his temple. “And you Mr Fletcher, have police protection.” He gave me a half-smile before wrapping his arms around me in a firm embrace.

We just stayed like that for a while, holding each other in comfortable silence. It was only when I felt Daniel’s grip loosening that I realized he was dozing off.

His curly head was comfortably nestled against the crook of my neck when I carried him into the bedroom and gently lay him upon the bed. He sleepily clung to me as I got in with him and placed a light kiss on his cheek. Before I fell asleep I heard him whisper. “Thank you…”