High Society

Even if they’d had a very late night, Casey’s eyes had opened early. They stayed open when his brain started racing, plans forming in his mind: art shop. Perhaps a nice sandwich… special candies from the shop he’d always look into with great want. Cigarettes. Who would he hang around with? Did they all go together in one group, or did they split up? Casey hoped someone would want to stroll around with him, instead of being the lonely new-boy. Noah would probably be up for it.

Casey sat up from the bed and looked to Zeke’s side. The young man was still dead-out, a light snore coming from his lips. Casey smiled, stood, stretched and began to dress, making sure he kept things quiet. It was only ten-past seven, after all. Once he was clothed and ready, he ventured out of the room, intent on getting downstairs.

Now at the first floor, he went to the parlor; no one was inside. Casey strolled over to one of the pool tables and ran a hand on the edge. Perhaps a one-player game would be fun. He’d just gotten the balls set up when he heard someone walking in.

“Good morning, Casey,” Stephen said with a smile. “Up early, I see.”

“Yes. What time do we get to leave for our day out?”

“No rush. There’s a light breakfast being made, and the others should come down soon enough. Sundays are your fun-days, after all,” Stephen replied. He then nodded to the table. “Would you mind having someone to play against?”

Casey grinned. “Sure.”

Stephen walked over to the pool cues and took one of the longer, heavier ones. “It’s been some time since I’ve played, so I may be a little rusty.”

“I’ve only played a few times myself,” Casey replied.

“I’ll let you break, then.”

Casey went to the side of the table where he’d set the cue ball. After a moment of preparing his shot, he smacked his stick into the ball and sent it to the others. They scattered around, though none of them sank into the pockets. “Not bad,” Stephen said.

“Not good, either,” Casey said. Stephen smirked and took his shot. He managed to get the three-ball in.

“Ah, solids. I like solids,” he said.

Casey waited for his turn, which came quick at Stephen’s miss. He chalked up his cue and looked to the man. “It looks nice and sunny outside; perfect for strolling about in the park, or something.”

“Yes, it does.” Stephen replied.

“I plan on setting myself up with some art supplies; to build up my collection again. The thought of it makes me smile,” Casey said.

“Ah, that reminds me,” Stephen said. As Casey managed to sink the eleven, Stephen went to his side. “I always advise the boys to always keep some money for savings. You never know when you’re going to need it.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well…” Stephen said, his expression going soft. “I won’t lie to you. You already know this business is illegal, and we can all get into some trouble. Myself, I always make sure that there’s money in my safe, and one of my most trusted servants has the combination. Helen, one of the kitchen servants, has been here since I established the place. She’s an incredible woman.”

“Yea--she’s a great cook, that’s for sure,” Casey said.

“Yes, that she is. But anyway… money. I make sure she has access, mainly because if anything were to happen--a raid, a bust--she can bring bail money. Believe me; the last thing a man needs is to be jailed for running a boy-bordello,” Stephen explained. “I’d have enough to bail others out, but not all.”

“You mean… if we were jailed, as well?”

Stephen nodded. “Yes. Our guards would be able to warn us, hopefully in time, that police were at our door. There are some ways to escape, such as two fire escapes that connect to two of the bedrooms--Noah and Jose’s, and James and Daniel’s. There’s one other secret way.” Stephen nodded towards the private parlor. “In there, a trapdoor in the floor by the large couch that goes into the basement, which has a door leading out to the back alleyways. But if anything were to happen and you could not get out, well… I can’t rightly say what would happen if you didn’t have the money to bail yourself out. If you WERE lucky and able to grab a few possessions before needing to leave quickly, and managed to leave, you would need food, a place to stay. With this place closed down, we probably wouldn’t be able to reform. It’s a safeguard; so please, always keep SOME money aside.”

The true nature of what they were doing couldn’t be denied. Casey returned to the game, now feeling serious and stiff. “All right, I’ll be sure to do that.”

“I’m hungry!” a cry from the stairs came--Danny, of course.

“Come on now, let’s play through. Breakfast isn’t up just yet,” Stephen said. Casey was glad to see him smiling; if he could feel secure enough in what they did, so could Casey.


~*~


“It’ll be the usual; everyone leaves in pairs,” Zeke said to Casey as they gathered in the parlor. “We don’t all leave at once. Might look weird to passersby.”

Casey nodded. “Okay.”

“You’ll probably be going with me; we go by who we room with,” Zeke said. This pleased Casey, as Zeke looked stronger and taller than the rest of them. Plus, he could bring him to whatever shop sold the special imported smokes.

“All right; Henry and Jamie, you go first this time,” Stephen instructed.

The two boys grabbed their bags, slung them over their shoulders and set off for the hall leading to the front door. Casey looked over at Noah, who was rifling around in his pack. Hoping the boy would be willing to join Casey and Zeke for the day, he went over and tapped him on the shoulder; Noah looked up to read his signs.

Come with me, or Jose?

Noah smiled. Jose goes to church. Sure.

Casey had to chuckle. Church? He’d half-expect to burst into flames should he step past the threshold of a holy-house, with what he did for a living. Casey signed back, good, before Stephen cleared his throat.

“Jose, Noah--go ahead.”

Your turn, Casey told him.

Noah quickly signed back, where, when meet?

Fifth Ave., ‘Candy Palace’? One hour?

Good! Noah said with an exuberant grin. He stood up, waved and left.

“What was that about?” Zeke asked, now at Casey’s side.

“Oh… we’re going to meet up.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Eh… I don’t really feel like hanging out with him. I dunno. I tried once, but--well, we didn’t ‘say’ much.”

Casey sniffed out a chuckle. “He’s nice… and I can interpret?”

“Eh,” Zeke said again. “I’m kinda a loner, anyway.”

This saddened Casey somewhat. “Oh. You don’t want to join us? I was hoping you’d show me the shop that sells the cigarettes.”

“Yea, I’ll take you there, if you want. We’ll see what I do after.”

“All right,” Casey replied.

“Casey and Zeke, you next,” Stephen called out.

“C’mon,” Zeke said. He led the way to the door; Casey noticed that he wasn’t carrying a bag.

“How are you going to shop and carry your things?” Casey asked as they opened the door and walked down the front steps.

“I don’t shop around much. Paper bags are fine by me.”

Casey nodded and went along, getting to the sidewalk. There was a chill in the air, but the sun was beaming down enough to warm Casey through his thick, black coat. Zeke’s strides were purposefully and wider than Casey’s, forcing him to work on keeping up. “We don’t have to run, do we?” Casey jovially asked.

“No. But once we reach crowds, we gotta keep moving.”

“I suppose…” Casey said. “What about lunch in the park?”

“Maybe.”

‘Non-committal, isn’t he?’ Casey thought.


~*~


The shop Zeke had gotten them to was close to Fifth Avenue, making it convenient for Casey’s meet-up with Noah. He held the three cigarette packs, along with the non-expensive but shiny, silver lighter in his hand a moment before putting them in his bag, pleased beyond measure. “That feels so good… no more borrowing or hoping for ‘left-behinds’,” he said.

“Independence is good,” Zeke said. “You owe me a few, y’know.”

“Hey now, can’t you simply be generous? You bought four for yourself,” Casey said, giving Zeke a sly grin.

“Yea, yea, yea,” Zeke said, smirking back.

“Let’s head to Fifth; I told Noah I’d meet him in front of the candy shop.”

“Candy shop, huh?”

“Yes. I have a gigantic sweet tooth,” Casey told him.

“That’s fine. I’ll let you do that--I’ve got a hankering for a cap at ‘Noir et Blanc’,” Zeke said.

“A cap? Like, a hat?”

“No. Cappuccino.”

“What’s that?”

Zeke turned to him, wearing an incredulous expression. “Are you serious?”

“Um… yes?” Casey replied.

“Ugh… fine, I’ll wait for you two and your sweet teeth. Shit-poor or not, you should know your coffee drinks,” Zeke said.

“Oh. Coffee?”

“Yea.”

While Casey wasn’t especially fond of the drink, he had the urge to stick close to the young man. He nodded and continued on, until he spotted Noah standing in front of the ‘Candy Palace’. “Here we go,” he said, excited. They approached the boy, who looked over, smiled and waved. “Hey,” Casey said, waving back. Let’s go in!

Noah nodded with enthusiasm and they entered the store. They were met with the smells of peppermint, caramel, chocolate… Casey had only dreamed of being able to shop here, never having money to be frivolous with. He had to be careful if he wanted supplies and the--whatever Zeke had said, while making sure he had some spare change left. He stopped at a shelf full of jellybeans and chewy candies, all loose with small paper bags and a sign: ‘Serve Yourself! 30 cents a pound’. “Oh, wonderful,” Casey said in a soft murmur. Noah then nudged him; Casey looked to see him making a sign. It wasn’t one using the alphabet. It consisted of two motions; one that looked as if Noah was spreading something onto his hand, the next involving a squeeze and twist of his pinky. He then pointed to the jellybeans.

“Oh… jelly…” Casey mimicked the spreading, then moved to the next. “Beans.”

Noah nodded. Casey glanced to Zeke, who looked bored while poking at a stack of lollipops. When he saw Casey looking at him, he sighed. “I’m gonna wait outside. Don’t take too long.”

“Uh, okay,” Casey replied. As Zeke made his leave, he turned back to Noah. Grump. Noah laughed, twirled a finger in the air then pulled a face, using his hands as if he was dragging it to the floor. He then used the alphabet.

Moody.

“Mmhmm,” Casey said. He decided to turn his attention to the bags, eager to fill one up to the brim.


~*~


“Christ. Get enough?”

Casey giggled as he drew out the loose-candy bag, a small box of fudge and a lollipop to put on the café’s table. “It’s not THAT much. I still have enough to get other things and take money home.”

“Here you are,” their waitress arrived, carrying a tray with three mugs upon it. While Casey and Zeke had ordered the cappuccinos, Noah had decided on a plain breakfast tea. They thanked the girl then began sipping; Zeke looked to Noah and frowned.

“We come out to a special café, and he gets what he always has at the house,” Zeke said.

“So what?” Casey replied. He took a test-sip of his drink and shrugged. “Not bad. Needs sugar.”

“Sugar?” Zeke said. He watched Casey grab the canister in the middle of the table and start pouring. “You’re gonna rot out your teeth. Anyway, a cap doesn’t NEED sugar.”

“Yea it does.”

“Ugh, not arguing,” Zeke said. He sipped away, looking over the rim to stare through the window next to them. “I’m gonna head to my bar next. They’ve got the best beer in town.”

“Hah! I’m not dragging your drunken-ass back, y’know,” Casey said.

“I don’t get blasted. Just a beer or two,” Zeke said with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, I think I’m gonna head out to get art stuff after this. Noah…” Casey tapped his arm to get his attention. Art stuff?

Noah nodded and shrugged his assent, while Zeke looked between them. “So--are you two gonna do this all day?”

“Do what?” Casey asked. Zeke wiggled his fingers around; Casey huffed. “Probably. That’s how we talk, y’know.”

“Why can’t he just read lips?”

“Even if he could, he’d sign back. It’s not that hard to learn.”

Zeke raised his eyebrows and grumbled to himself. Noah glanced to him and then began signing to Casey. Grumpy still?

Casey chuckled. You bet.

“What’d he say?” Zeke asked.

“We’re talking about you,” Casey said with a mischievous grin. “And if you took the time to learn it, you’d know.”

“Uh huh,” Zeke said. He nodded to Casey’s cup. “So, how’s it?”

“The coffee?”

“Cappuccino.”

“It’s good.”

Zeke sniffed. “‘Good.’ That’s gourmet stuff, right there. We don’t even get that on good days,” he said.

“Oh big deal,” Casey said. He kept trying to smile, even though it seemed as if Zeke’s mood had gone sour. “Don’t be a snob, you.”

Noah began pouring yet more sugar into his tea, making Zeke look over at him with a frown. “God, cut it out,” he said.

Casey snorted in amusement, then signed, more sugar--it makes him mad. He noticed how hard Noah was holding back a smile as he kept pouring.


~*~


It was still chilly, but Casey found Central Park too beautiful to care. After stopping at a hot dog cart, he and Noah took their dogs and Cokes out to a large set of boulders, where they sat atop the largest one. After a few bites, Noah began to sign.

He’s not like the others.

Zeke?

Yes.

Casey knew this already, but he didn’t quite know Zeke just yet. Having been at the house for almost two years, Noah probably had more insight to the mysterious boy.

Do you know him well?

Noah sighed. Only a little.

Sighing as well, Casey wrapped up the fine pencils he’s acquired and stuck them back in his bag, along with the sketchbook, gum erasers, pencil sharpener and paintbrushes. No paint or canvases, not yet; he’d build up to that. He still had almost two dollars left, which he planned on taking home. Besides their candy trip and the food they’d eaten, Noah himself hadn’t spent much at all, choosing to keep the few dollars he’d brought in his pocket. Once he was done fussing, he looked back to Noah. He went to sign, but began to forget a few letters. Groaning a little, he began going over the alphabet in his mind, but Noah put his hand on Casey’s and shook his head.

“Jus… talg.”

“Huh?” Casey said.

“Talg.”

“What’s ‘talg’?”

Noah bit his lip, then pointed at it. “Read. I can.”

Blinking furiously, Casey realized… “You can read lips?”

Sniffing and looking ashamed, Noah began signing again. I like sign better. No one knows. Please don’t tell.

“So… you know… everything people say, then?” Casey asked. When Noah made a slow nod, Casey took a deep breath. “Why are you telling me, then?”

I trust you. You’re different. Noah signed.

This struck a chord in Casey. Had Noah been desperate for a friend--desperate enough that he was willing to trust a newcomer? How different was Casey from the rest? He had shown more compassion for Noah than the others, and the boy must have felt it. In the end, Casey had to feel a little honored. “It’s okay. I won’t tell… and yea, I’ll still learn signing.”

Noah finally found his smile again and made the most familiar sign Casey knew at this point: thank you. “No problem,” Casey replied. He looked down at his crossed feet and flicked a piece of dead grass poking from a nearby crack in the rock. “So… Zeke, then,” he said, making sure Noah could see what he was saying. Noah nodded and raised his eyebrows.

He came to the house weeks after me. Had lots of cuts and bruises.

“He was hurt? By who?” Casey asked.

Don’t know. Noah stopped to shake his head. Think he’d been in the hospital.

“Oh,” Casey said. “Maybe he’d let people treat him rough before Stephen came along. He DID say that he’d hooked before that.”

Noah shrugged and finished his hot dog. After he wiped crumbs from his hands, he continued. There was something wrong with his hands. Don’t know. They shook. Noah gave a small visual, trembling his fingers about, then went on. Better now, I guess.

Casey stared at the boy for a few moments before turning back to the rest of his lunch. It was quiet for a while, both in voice and hands.


~*~


“Hey! ‘Been wondering where you guys have been,” Danny said after throwing his arms around both Casey and Noah. Since he’d come from behind them, Noah was startled enough to let out a loud cry, which made Danny chuckle.

“Danny, geez,” Casey said.

“Me, James and Henry caught a movie at the place on Sixth Ave. One of those really cheap jobs. Can’t even remember the name of it. Something about going to Mars,” Danny said.

“Okay…?”

“What have YOU two been up to?”

“Not much. Just walking around,” Casey replied. He looked around. “Where’s the rest of you?”

“Eh, Jim and Hen took off to the library after they ran into Jamie. That kid, all he does is read,” Danny explained. “I guess him and Henry stay up all night reading together. I’ll bet they do more than that, of course.”

“Oh, stop. We’re not allowed,” Casey said.

“Hah! It happens. You shoulda seen Marty. He loved playing ‘Spin the Bottle’. We’d sometimes play it when Steve wasn’t around,” Danny said. He then squeezed Noah’s shoulder. “This one never joined in, poor sap.”

“Come on, stop teasing him. It’s hardly fair.”

“Who said life was fair?” Danny said.

Casey rolled his eyes. “We’re gonna head back, I think. It’s getting late,” Casey said. “We’re supposed to be back by seven, right?”

“And it’s only five-thirty. C’mooon…” Danny drawled out the word. “Come out with me somewhere. The bookworms are boring, Jose’s doing some stupid function at his church and Zeke’s about as exciting as a shoehorn. We can stay up tonight; Steve always lets us have the game room and parlor for whatever we wanna do. So why rush back?”

“Danny…” Casey started, then he chuckled. “You do what you do. We’re gonna relax a bit before partying all night.”

“Pfft, fine. Suit yourselves.” Danny pulled away from them and began jogging off the other way. Casey watched him go, shaking his head.

After a few more blocks, they reached the house and went inside. They looked to be the first ones home; as they went past the opened doorway of the parlor, Casey looked in and saw Stephen talking to two other men. They were dressed in dark, stylish suits, were a little taller than Zeke and smoking fat cigars. ‘They can’t be customers…?’ he thought. Casey didn’t realize that Noah was a few steps ahead and that he was lingering to get a better look, until Stephen looked up to find him staring in.

“Hello, Casey,” he said.

“Um… hi. We’re back.”

“Yes, early.”

“Sorry. We got… bored,” Casey said. He looked between the two other men, who seemed to be watching him with interest.

“That’s all right. Go on upstairs until supper is served, then you can enjoy a night with the other boys down here,” Stephen said.

With a slow nod, Casey looked back to the stairwell, where Noah was waiting for him. He was giving Casey a stern expression and waving him over. Casey frowned and approached him, then followed him up the stairs. “What was going on?” he asked, putting his face in Noah’s view. All Noah replied with was a finger to his lips and a shake of his head.


~*~


“After SUCH a cold day, those pork chops were welcome,” James said while chalking-up his pool stick.

“And the strawberry shortcake! Oh, Helen’s best dessert,” Danny chimed in from the couch. He lit a cigarette and lie back, a blissful expression on his face. “Heavenly.”

“Is that all you ever think about?” Jamie asked. “Food?”

Casey smiled while pouring himself some wine. While drinking one’s socks off was frowned upon for the boys, having a few extra glasses on their nights off was allowed. He was on his second glass, and was starting to feel light and cheerful. He turned away from the bar and headed back to the couch by the hearth, where Noah and Henry sat together. Noah looked up and beamed at Casey, seeming to notice his goofy grin. Don’t get… then a hand motion, his thumb pointing down in a swoop of his arm. Casey caught on and guffawed before plunking himself down.

Why not? he replied, almost tipping his glass too far in his trying to sign.

Noah nudged Henry, chuckled noisily and mimed slugging back a drink, then pointed to Casey. Henry looked over and ‘tsked’. “The new boy’s getting lit,” he said.

“I am not! The wine’s good, that’s all,” Casey said.

“HEY--it’s been a long time since we told ‘stories’,” Danny called out.

“Oh, stories. I’ve a few of those,” Jamie said; whatever this ritual was, it had to be interesting enough for the young man to mark the page of the book he was reading and put it down. He WAS quite the bookworm, as described. He slipped off the couch, crawled over to the hearth and leaned on the couch by Casey’s legs. The others began gathering around, minus Zeke, who was sitting at the bar, drinking. Jamie noticed and rolled his eyes. “Zeke, you too. C’mon, boozer.”

“I ain’t got anything interesting,” he replied in a low, bored voice.

“Oh, right. You actually took on Xavier on Tuesday. Like he isn’t interesting enough,” James said.

A few of the boys chuckled and ooh-ed; Casey recognized the name, though he couldn’t remember from when he’d heard it.

“It was the usual,” Zeke said. He still stayed in his seat, but he swiveled the chair around to face them. “I was ready to shove him in the showers and force him to wash up.”

“What did he smell like this time? Chowder?” Danny asked.

“Rotten vegetables?” Jamie asked next.

“In… fucking… describable,” Zeke drawled the words.

“Who’s Xavier?” Casey asked; it made the boys chortle.

“Hope you never find out, boy. He likes coming by, reeking of something foul and breathing all over a boy. You’ll know he’s here even before he gets in the parlor. It’s as if he rolls around in dead fish all day,” Henry said.

“Wait, wait--let’s hear the new boy’s stories first,” Danny said, turning everyone’s attention on Casey. “C’mon. Tell us about Dennis. We haven’t needled you for your ‘first-time’ tale yet.”

“Oh, god…”

“No, no, c’mon,” Danny egged Casey on further.

The boy sighed, lit a cigarette and put his head back on the couch. “He was… okay. I guess.”

“Just okay?” James asked.

“Well, I didn’t know if he was nice or not. One minute he’d act sweet, the next like some angry bear,” Casey said. “Other than that, I gotta say… it was a bit boring.”

“You shoulda seen ‘em, fighting over him,” Henry said. “I tried comforting poor ol’ Cal when Denny took off with him. Inconsolable, the dumb dope.”

“Aw, and I was gonna do an impression of that one, see if anyone could guess,” Danny said.

Once again, Casey felt his cheeks heat up. “He’s nice.”

“Hah, nice… yea. Smooth as butter and sweet as candy. Leaves me wondering though… remember the scare with his wife last month?” Henry said.

Everyone winced, chuckled and nodded, but Casey was confused. “Cal’s wife?”

“Yup. Cal’s a gambler, see--he’s put them in the hole more times than he changes socks. So she’s followed him to the casinos or friends’ houses where they have poker games… and oh, lord…” Jamie put his head back to give Casey a sly smile. “We almost went on lockdown when she caught up with him here. The guards went crazy, rounding up all the boys to drag ‘em upstairs before they let her in. She was told that this was a ‘gentleman’s club’, no women allowed, but she kicked and bitched and screamed that they’d best let her in, or she was going to break the door down. And she COULD have.”

“She’s such a beast. Arms the size of tree trunks--looks like she’d put you on a plate and eat you, alive and raw,” Danny added. “But getting to see Cal’s face was utterly priceless. He could barely hide the hard-on Henry had been giving him in the fuck-parlor. Hell, ALL the men were panicking. But she bought it.”

“He’s got a nice cock… doesn’t he, Casey?” Henry said in a teasing-tone.

“Well… yes,” Casey admitted.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Zeke piped up, his voice echoing through the glass he was sipping from. “The guys around here just LOVE sweet-talking us.”

“Oh, Christ, reminds me… Clark got me that bracelet, right? NOW he’s talking about buying me matching cufflinks,” James said. “I mean--I don’t even WEAR cufflinks.”

The boys chuckled. “You could sell ‘em?” Danny said.

“I suppose. Though he’d probably expect me to wear them every night. Oh, I don’t know. Someday he’s just going to up and ask for my hand in marriage,” James replied.

“HAH. Un… likely, boy. He had quite the time with me and Casey last night. He couldn’t find you amongst the wreckage,” Jamie said, shooting a wink over at Casey.

“Well, do what you want--but if any of you stop the flow of gifts, I’ll give you hell for it.”

Casey smiled with the others and sipped his wine; looking to his left, he noticed Noah’s calm, blank expression. He wondered if he was reading everyone’s lips and taking it all in, or if he simply didn’t care about what was going on between them all. Jose himself was sitting on the edge of the group, not joining in on the fun, either. The need to feel a part of everyone rose, making Casey smile wider and lean forward. “Who would you guys say is the worst of the bunch?”

“Oh, Bruce--no question,” Jamie said.

“No, no. He’s just a stupid, kinky bastard. Xavier smells,” James said.

“What about that guy--he only came once, around New Year’s, but oh good god, was he terrible,” Danny said with a groan.

“Which one?” Henry asked.

“YOU know. Rotted teeth, one gigantic eyebrow, hairy ears--”

“Oh NO, him! I don’t even remember that fucker’s name, but I don’t have to!” Henry said through heavy chortles. “He was disgusting, oh god, was he. I could tell the moment he walked in.”

Danny pursed his lips. “Who’d he taken, any…” A look of recognition came over his face and he sniggered. “Oh, never mind…”

“Zeke,” the others said in unison. Zeke glared at them all and downed the rest of his drink before speaking.

“You can all… just fuck off,” he said while pouring another glass of whiskey on the rocks.

“You LIKE it, and you KNOW it,” Danny said, the words getting laughed out loudly. “Why would you put up with it all if you didn’t?”

“Because I can. Cos’ I got more balls than alla you put together,” Zeke replied.

“Ooh, them’s fightin’ words…” Jamie said.

“I do.”

“Oh yea? C’mon, Zeke…” Danny got up, walked over to the bar and propped his arm up by the elbow upon the counter. “Try to pin me.”

The boys ooh-ed in interest again. “C’mon, Danny… low-blow,” James said.

“What? He wants to pretend he’s so tough, let ‘im prove it,” Danny said.

Henry sighed. “You know he can’t--”

“I’m outta here,” Zeke blurted, then stood from his seat. The room went quiet as he left to head to the stairs. As the sound of his footfalls went off, Casey looked around, blinking in confusion.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“Moody bitch,” Danny said with an airy sigh.

“That’s his sore-spot, and you know it. C’mon, Danny… don’t be such an ass,” James said.

“Why? Anyone feel like telling me what just happened?” Casey asked.

Jamie took a deep breath and looked up at Casey again. “We don’t know the whole story. Just that when Zeke was brought in, he was in some serious rough shape,” he said.

“Noah told me a little, yea,” Casey replied.

“Yup. He wasn’t like most of us, who showed up word-of-mouth, like me; I came because I’d heard from a friend of a friend of a… so on. Stephen had been uptown for the day, doing whatever business-things, and came back with Zeke. He didn’t start working here until he’d stayed in bed for about two weeks,” Jamie explained further.

“Really?”

“Mmhmm.”

“But no one knows why… what happened?” Casey asked.

“’Course not. All we know was that he was working the streets on his own before he found this place. Other than that, we don’t have a clue,” Henry said. “Zeke’s a temperamental pain. He barely talks to anyone.”

Casey knew this already, of course… but he wanted to know more. The subject then changed when James passed gas and everyone began laughing about it. “Hey, that was NO-where near as bad as John’s are!” James said through raging laughter.

“Which one??” Danny asked.

“YOU know.”

“Oh… that John…”

Casey’s concerns to go along with the boys with their chattering on and goofing off faded away. His thoughts now focused on Zeke; Casey stared at the doorway, wondering if he should follow him. ‘He hates it when you get nosy… you know that,’ he thought, so as hard as it was, he forced on smiles and stayed with the group… it WAS fun, he had to admit.


~*~


The first thing Casey noticed when he walked into the bedroom was the smell of strawberries. He looked to the bed where Zeke sat, a bowl in his lap and a book in his hand. The young man didn’t bother looking up at him; he continued reading and spooning dessert into his mouth. “Leftover shortcake?” Casey asked.

“Mmhmm.”

“Yum.”

“You can go down and sneak some. Alice never minds it--she leaves some out in case we get a craving,” Zeke told him. Casey shook his head.

“N’aw, not hungry,” he replied. He ruffled his wet hair then went over to his dresser. He was enjoying the daily showers and clean clothes; instead of the usual nightshirt, he slipped on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. The Sunday break had left him refreshed, but curious. He looked at Zeke through the tops of his eyes as he grabbed his bag from the floor. Seeing as he wasn’t feeling tired and ‘lights out’ wasn’t for another half an hour, he decided to sketch a little, for the first time in a LONG time.

It was always a high-sensory activity for Casey; the scritch-scratch of the pencil, the smooth paper under his hands, all senses getting included in the activity. The image of an apple began to form after a few minutes, making Casey smile. Something as simple as that…

“What’re you drawing?” Zeke asked.

“Oh… just a still life, in my head. An apple.”

“Ah.”

“Yea,” Casey said in an absent voice. He glanced over to Zeke, sighed and decided to open his mouth. “So… are you okay?”

“About what?”

“You left in a hurry tonight. I’m not asking what happened or getting nosy… just wanna know if you’re okay or not.”

Zeke closed his book, rubbed his eyes a moment then stood. “I gotta bring this down to the kitchen. We’ll get shit if we leave dirty dishes in the room--just so you know.”

That was the best Casey was going to get, he figured. He nodded and watched Zeke leave the room, the spoon in the bowl he carried clinking lightly. Once he was out of sight, Casey rolled his eyes, let the sketchbook rest in his lap then put his head back on the edge of the headboard.

Perhaps he was being nosy, even if he said he wasn’t. He couldn’t help it, however; it wasn’t as if he and Zeke were just passersby on the street, not knowing each other. They shared a room, meals, free-time--even engaged in sexual acts within feet of each other. Was Casey being that bad, wanting to know about him? ‘The others don’t either, though… and they’ve been here a lot longer,’ he thought.

Ten minutes passed; Casey figured it was time for bed. He put his things away then turned down the covers to slip past them. He decided to leave the light on for Zeke. The slight ache in his legs from walking around all day was easy to feel when he stretched his toes. It was a good ache; he smiled and closed his eyes, just as Zeke returned. The young man went to his bed, shut the lamp off and climbed in as well.

“’Night,” Casey said.

“’Night,” Zeke replied then cleared his throat.

Casey took a deep breath and began drifting off, but like the night before, he was roused from his oncoming slumber when he heard Zeke’s voice.

“Casey?”

“Hmm?” Casey said, opening his eyes. Light was streaming through the alley and into their window, letting him see Zeke’s face in silhouette and shadows.

“You are a nice guy, compared to the others. You’re nosy, but not mean about it,” Zeke said.

The compliment warmed Casey’s heart. Perhaps Zeke wasn’t as tough or callous as he presented himself to be. “Thanks… I do try.”

“I know I don’t talk much, but I have my reasons.”

“It’s okay. Sometimes we wanna keep our secrets… sorry if I’ve tried to needle at you for them.”

Zeke hummed lightly. “Fuck… one more cig,” he said. Casey watched him reach to his bedside table, take up his pack and get one out. Casey squinted when Zeke lit up, the flame flashing bright. When Casey caught the sweet smoke in the air, he smiled.

“Yea, me too.”

“Have at it,” Zeke said. He took a long drag as Casey readied his smoke, allowing him to see his smile in the orange glow. With the both of them smoking away, Casey settled on his side and propped his arm up to hold his head.

“I had a nice time today. Is there any other time we get to go out?” he asked.

“Sometimes. Steve lets us go outside on the porch, or if we really want to, we can take an afternoon for ourselves, have a coffee at a café… whatever.”

“Nice. I was hoping for that.”

Zeke nodded and leaned up onto his elbow, propped up on his side to face Casey as well. The end of his cigarette illuminated his neck and chest, his chin and face going into shadow. With his eyes caset downward, he asked, “Did you hook before you came here?”

Casey furrowed his brow; he was curious now…? “No. No, I didn’t have the guts for that. Almost did, but I got scared.”

“Yea. Good thing that you didn’t. Here, we’re safe. Y’know? ‘Different when you’re on your own.”

This was definitely going somewhere. Casey reached up to the side table and flicked a line of ash into the ashtray. “Yea,” was all he could say. ‘Don’t push it… maybe…’

“Here I was, this scrawny kid who hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet, comin’ in to the city to escape a stifling home life, only to find out that this goddamned Depression doesn’t fucking care if you’re a graduate or not. So I tried it. Thought I was tough enough, didn’t need ‘protection’, whatever else. But… shit happens,” Zeke said, his voice small and quiet. “And when it happens, it happens.”

“Yea, it does,” Casey said. Anxiety made a lump in his throat as Zeke went on.

“I was stupid. Young and dumb. I worked way down on west one-fifty-fifth. Only a few other boys were there--it was mostly girls. Still, I got some work,” Zeke said. “Then… hah, one guy, Ike… richer than God showed up at the café where my art was at. He was all about my stuff, and I happened to be there so he slathered me with compliments. When he asked me what I did for a living, I didn’t blink. Told him right-out. He was a schmoozer, all right; put on this ‘Good Samaritan’ act like you wouldn’t believe. He claimed that he’d helped lots of prostitutes, gave ‘em a place to stay, food to eat, all for a little company--how most of them really found their way, thanks to him. There was a supposed dead wife and dead kids… sob stories up the ass. He actually got me feeling sorry for him, and I thought, ‘this could be my lucky day.’ I was on the verge of being kicked out of my place, barely ate, everything.”

“Didn’t work out, though… did it?” Casey tentatively asked.

Zeke sniffed derisively and stared at the floor. “It ended up being a lot more than a ‘little company’ that the fucker wanted. I was pretty much a fuckin’ slave,” Zeke said. “He was from a rich family; didn’t have to work. After a week of… that bull, I went out to try and find a job. I actually did, a dishwasher at this restaurant on Fifth. Shit work, but it paid good. When I told him I was leaving, he made out like it was perfectly okay. ‘Just stay one more night,’ he said. I figured, fine, whatever, give the guy something to remember me by.”

The pause that followed was deafening. Casey was so enraptured with the tale that he hadn’t noticed his cigarette being burned all the way to the end, until his fingers felt scorched. “Ah…” he said, stamping it out quickly and waving his hand around. “Sorry.”

“S’okay,” Zeke said. He stamped his out as well, then immediately lit another. Their ‘one last cigarette’ now turned into two, as Casey followed suit. The silence continued until Casey dropped his eyes and sighed.

“What did he do to you?” he asked.

Zeke’s face turned stony, his jaw set. It was obvious that he was unsure about saying anything more, but he’d already broke the dam. “He took me to the shower--said he wanted a blow and a fuck. He started acting weird, and when I went to suck him off he decided that he didn‘t wanna let me breathe. I tried to back away cos’ I thought I was ready to vomit, but he held onto me. Even clamped my nose shut. So I did the only thing I could,” Zeke said. The tiniest hint of a smile came on his face. “I bit down on the fucker.”

“Good. He deserved it,” Casey said in a spit.

“Don’t think I was THAT much of a genius, cos’ the second he recovered--yea, I got it,” Zeke said. “And he recovered fast. I’d barely gotten out of the bathroom before he caught up to me. I’m surprised neither one of us bit it, fighting on the slick wooden flooring like a couple of ancient Olympians, soaked… anyway. He was as wide as the Atlantic, with ham-sized fists. But his telling me that I was going to ‘pay dearly’ for what I did made the adrenaline flow, too, so I finally shoved him off, got up, grabbed my clothes and ran for the door. The locks on the thing slowed me down, though, so just as I got the thing open, he caught up to me.”

It went quiet yet again. Casey felt hollow and sick. “This was in an apartment?”

“Yup. Penthouse, to be exact.”

“And no one heard what was going on--came to help?”

“No. I guess they’d gotten used to the crazy shit that went on,” Zeke replied. He took a long drag from his cigarette; Casey noticed how his hand was trembling, hard enough to see in the dark. “He beat the living hell out of me. Just kept hitting, punching, kicking. When he finally stopped, I reached for the open door with both hands from my spot on the floor, pried it open wider… then he kicked it.”

Casey swallowed hard. “The… the door?”

“Yea. I couldn’t even scream. It was like… ‘it’s over’. That’s all I kept thinking. Every finger was broken or almost broken. I stared at ‘em for a full minute, wondering if I was gonna die. And he laughed… he just laughed and told me, ‘Let’s see you make your pretty pictures now.’”

“Oh my god,” Casey said. “Oh… my god. Zeke.”

The young man said nothing for a few moments; his cigarette was down to nothing. Casey watched him not even bother putting it out, using the embers at the end to light yet another one. “Steve found me in an alleyway the next day. I went there to die. I was too embarrassed and sick to go to a doctor--I deserved to die in a stinking, dirty place. How he managed to carry me out to his car, get me to this private doctor on the East side… dunno. But he did--and he didn’t expect anything in return. Then he brought me back here, and not to make me work it off. He told me I’d be free to leave when I was healed up,” Zeke explained. He now looked to Casey with a firm gaze. “The man’s a saint. He has family-wealth, too. That’s how he runs this place. But he didn’t use it like Ike did. He’s taken in guys like Jose and Noah, people labeled as ‘useless’. It’s a dirty business, but you know what?” Zeke paused to chuckle lightly. “In my mind, it’s an honest business. The guys get a good time for a good price. My body’s mine to do with whatever I want.”

“But…” Casey trailed off and shook his head. “You were made that bastard’s slave and got permanent injury from what he did. How can you be here and let shit happen to you all over again?”

“Cos’ I’m a kinky fucker, Casey. Cos’ despite what happened, I like it. I get to be the fuck-er, as well. Guys like Abe, there? They see me as the tough boy, the one who CAN fuck, and fuck good. And when I’m the one taking it, I laugh at the guys in my mind. They think they’re so mean and brutal, when they’re really pussies that can’t tell their wives that they prefer dick. It’s a controlled setting with Steve--I get what I want without the risk.”

“But again, they told me--about how you’d gotten punched out just days ago.”

“Yea, and you know what the jackass got for it?” Zeke asked. When Casey stayed silent, a wicked grin formed on Zeke’s lips. “I won’t tell ya. Just know that if he ever walks into this place again, he won’t be walking out.”

There was some level of understanding now, but Casey was still sad. “So that’s why you can’t paint anymore, and why you couldn’t arm-wrestle Danny.”

“Uh huh.”

“Damn it,” Casey said. “Danny, that meathead. How can he be so cruel?”

“He’s all right. He never means what he says… in fact, he visited me the most out of all of ‘em when I was laid up. But I never told him what happened, never told any-one. The only one who knows this stuff is Steve,” he said. “And now, you.”

“I won’t tell. I promise.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. I guess it helps to get this kinda stuff off your chest, as long as you trust someone.”

“You trust me, huh?” Casey said, smiling a little.

“Like I’d said; you’re nice.”

“Well… thanks.”

“’Welcome,” Zeke replied. He then began coughing. “Shit,” he said with a croak, then stamped out his half-finished cigarette. “Why’d you let me smoke that much?”

“If I HAD said anything, you would’ve told me to mind my own goddamned business.”

Zeke chuckled. “Yea, guess you’re right. C’mon… let’s get some shuteye.”

Casey nodded, put his dead cigarette in the ashtray and pulled the covers over himself. He couldn’t tell if he was cold or warm--cold from the depressing tale Zeke had relayed, or warm with the idea that Zeke had opened up to him in the first place. “’Night,” Casey said.

“Mmm,” Zeke replied. The two of them sank into the mattress and pillows, drifting off into sleep only moments after shutting their eyes.


~*~


After an easygoing breakfast full of light discussion, Casey went to leave with Noah to head to the parlor when he was approached by Stephen. “Excuse me, Casey… I’d like you to come with me,” he said.

“Oh. All right,” Casey said, then signed a quick, Later, to Noah before setting off with Stephen. He expected to turn left towards Stephen’s office, but they went right instead. A door Casey hadn’t gone through sat at the end just before the laundry room. “What are we doing?” he asked.

“Well… your first time’s come and gone, sooo…” Stephen sighed and chuckled. “I’m sorry. It IS going to hurt.”

“What will?” Casey asked in a small voice. They walked through the mysterious door, where a plump woman stood at a table full of various items. She was stirring something as she turned to see them come in; she smiled Casey’s way. Casey tried smiling back, but still felt uneasy. “What--is this about?”

“All I can advise is to try to relax,” Stephen said. He pointed to a small, slim bed with what looked to be stirrups. “Go on and lay down over there. This is Joyce; she does the cosmetic jobs around here.”

Casey realized… oh no. “Oh no,” he said. A nervous chuckle escaped him and he gave Stephen his best puppy-dog eyes. “Must I?”

“Best that way. After the shock goes away, I promise… it feels good. VERY good.”

With a resigned groan, Casey made his way to the bed. It was strange, undoing and dropping his slacks to the floor and lying down on the bed. With his feet in position, he felt terribly exposed. Stephen wished him luck and left, just as Joyce walked over with a warm smile. She had a kind face, with rosy cheeks and dark brown eyes. “It ain’t as bad as all that--lasts only a few moments and the pain fades away,” she said, her accent sounding much like James’.

“I’ll do my best,” Casey replied, his eyes set on the bowl she carried; the wax inside of it set wisps of steam into the air. He put his head back and stared at the ceiling, ready for anything.


~*~


Once lunch and more free time passed, Casey’s first official work-week began. He dressed in a fine outfit of cotton slacks and a close-fitting black shirt. The silk fabric shone in the muted lamplight, the buttons looking like black pearls. Feeling attractive and confident, Casey began to comb his hair, wanting everything perfect.

When he shifted feet, he felt the hot, tingling sensation between his legs. Stephen had been right; though the pain of his waxing had been brutal, the after-effects were to die for. Unobstructed, smooth skin felt wonderful, easily-stimulated with every move Casey made. He hoped that he’d come across men who enjoyed a boy losing it not far into the action, as he doubted that he’d be able to last more than a minute.

Zeke then entered their room with a yawn. He held a cup in his hand, which he sipped from eagerly. “Coffee. Can barely keep my eyes open,” he said.

They hadn’t talked much through the day; Casey had noticed how awkward he’d seemed, and how his usual dark mood seemed even broodier. He put these thoughts aside to shrug and reply, “We were up late.”

“Yea. I, um…” Zeke said. He cleared his throat and went on. “I don’t usually do that.”

“Talk?”

“Yea.”

Casey nodded. “I knew that already.”

“Just remember to keep it under your hat. I know you said you would, and I trust you… but another reminder doesn’t hurt,” Zeke told him.

“I… know,” Casey said, now feeling slightly defensive. Hadn’t Zeke been the one to say that he trusted him and knew he could talk to him? He had revealed many deep, dark secrets, so Casey let it pass. “So, Monday nights are slowest, huh?”

“Uh huh. It may as well be a free-day,” Zeke replied. “We’ll get cheapies tonight, more than likely; guys who are out of work and need to blow off some steam. Or blow us. Whichever.”

“Right.”

“It’s funny, isn’t it?”

Casey stopped fussing with his hair and looked to the young man. “What is?”

“The idea that this country’s in the sink-hole, and there are STILL these guys willing to spend their last buck on a suck-off,” Zeke said with a sly grin. “Shows you how desperate some guys are.”

“Well, let ‘em be that way. As long as we get what we get, right?” Casey mischievously replied. Zeke oohed, his smile widening.

“You’re catching on,” Zeke said. He then looked to the clock, raised his eyebrows and slugged back the rest of his drink. “Show time.”

“Oh, already,” Casey said. He gave himself one last look; after straightening his collar, he followed Zeke downstairs. They found themselves back in the parlor, where Jose, Noah and Henry were lounging around with colorful drinks in their hands.

“Hey,” Henry said, tipping his glass their way.

“Where’re the rest of us?” Zeke asked.

“Who knows? Glad you got here, though--these two won’t shut up,” Henry said. Zeke chuckled, but Casey rolled his eyes. Henry must have noticed, for he did the same. “Yea, yea, I know--I’m a mean bastard, hackin’ on these guys. I should be ashamed.”

Ignoring him, Casey sat next to Noah and gave him a bright smile. Monday, Monday.

Piece of cake, Noah replied.

Mmm, cake… This made Noah laugh, a little loudly of course. Henry stuck a finger in his ear, wiggled it then retreated to the bar with Zeke. Casey paid it no mind and continued signing.

As he and Noah discussed who usually came on Mondays (No Cal, sorry, Noah said with a wink), everyone else arrived, chattering excitedly--too excitedly. Casey frowned and nodded up to get James’ attention as he passed him. “Hey… what’s going on?” he asked.

James chuckled heartily. “Me and Danny’s room looks out over the street. We saw someone waiting for the doors to open--Tommy.” James snorted and shook his head. “Wait ‘til you meet him. He’s ridiculous.”

“How so?”

“You’ll see, you’ll see.”

“Okay, boys… door’s open,” Stephen called out to them.

Everyone quieted and settled in. Voices came down the hall, though they weren’t as noisy or in great numbers as they’d been on the weekend. The first man to enter the room held a decorative cane, wore a coat with tails, and his hat looked as if it belonged to a magician. “Ah, good to be here after being away for so long!” he practically yelled while hanging his coat on the rack. Casey blinked furiously when the man turned around and he saw his outfit. A poofy, ruffled shirt tucked into pants that were very, very tight.

“Is he a circus performer?” Casey hissed to James, who choked on held-back laughter.

“Nope. Just Tommy.”

Casey nodded slowly as two more men walked into the room and began mingling around. Tommy made a dramatic flounce out of every move he made, eyeing each boy while wearing a toothy grin. “Hello,” he said to each of them as he passed. He received cheerful greetings in return. Casey bit his lip and stared at the floor; he realized he didn’t get a drink yet. He stood and went to step away but stopped when he bumped into Tommy, who was standing directly in front of him.

“Oh! I’m sorry--”

“And who might you be? A new morsel to partake of?” Tommy asked.

“Yes. Yes, hello… I’m Casey.”

“Ah, what a pleasure!” Each word was spoken loudly, almost cheered out; it was a little much. Laughably theatrical, really. Tommy made a small bow. “Thomas Cromwell the third. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

Not having any idea on what to do, Casey mimicked a bow, feeling stiff and strange. “The same.”

“I used to come here every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday, but alas, it has been some time. I run a racetrack in Queens, and business has been booming. Amazing, isn’t it? Gambling never seems to suffer--it even swells during times like these, when everyone is desperate for wealth. I was lucky. My grandfather left me the track when I was just eighteen. It’s made me QUITE rich, I must say.”

James had been right. Ridiculous… utterly ridiculous. Casey hoped that his smile looked more coy than amused. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Have you ever bet on horses? You have a ‘lucky-look’ to you. You really do,” Tommy said.

“Oh… no. I’m not very lucky at all,” Casey replied. Tommy’s laugh was damned near ear-splitting.

“I am! Come, let’s get a drink together, and you can tell me all about yourself.”

After getting to the bar and being served, Casey discovered that they weren’t going to talk about anything but Tommy himself. The man droned on and on, going so far as to mention exactly how much money he’d ‘raked in’ that week. Though the amount was impressive, the bragging was not; Casey had never gotten the taste for those who went on and on about how wonderful they were, how rich they were, especially during hard times such as these. Still, he pasted a smile on and let Tommy tell his tales. Casey noticed Zeke watching them with a cocked eyebrow, most likely amused--perhaps grateful that it was Casey dealing with this man, instead of himself.

After taking the rest of his wine in one big gulp, Tommy smacked his lips and ahhed. He then gave Casey a meaningful stare. “I’ve enough to buy a room three or four times tonight, so we should press on. I have QUITE the appetite.”

“Um… you’d like to have me?” Casey asked.

“Of course! Why do you think I’ve been standing here with you? Silly boy. Stephen!”

Again, Casey winced at his booming voice. Stephen went over to them and smiled. “Yes, Thomas?”

“I’d like to have Caleb first tonight.”

“Oh. You mean… Casey?” Stephen asked, nodding to the boy.

“Yes, that’s right. Casey,” Tommy said.

Casey shot a glare to Henry and Jamie, who stood by the nearby corner, snickering hard. More men were filing in, however, and they moved on--though they made sure to give Casey a thumbs-up as they passed.

“All right, then. Here you are.” Stephen handed Tommy a key and grinned. “Have a wonderful time.”

“I will!” Tommy replied, and with that, he took Casey’s arm and led him from the parlor. “This is going to be good, I just know it. I like them small, and you fit that bill, you do.”

“Thank you,” Casey said, knowing that it’d probably been a strange reply. Tommy didn’t seem to notice as they made their way upstairs and to a room. Its door was unlocked and they walked inside; Casey realized that it was the same room that he and Dennis had used. “A fine choice.”

“Yes, the finest--nothing but the best!”

“Yes. So, what shall you like to do with me--” Casey went to ask, but stopped when Tommy began undressing hastily, starting with his shirt. “Oh. You like things fast, I see.”

“A little--but I like to be naked as soon as possible, and for the fucking to last. I paid for a whole hour. Four more after this!” Tommy said. Casey swallowed as Tommy shucked his pants and underpants off, his socks being the only clothing he wore. He looked quite silly, his fish-belly pale skin shining in the firelight with black at his feet. “Now you.”

“Oh, yes--of course,” Casey said. He went slower than the man, making a show of it. He gave coy smiles as he unbuttoned his shirt and revealed himself, but when he went to undo his pants, Tommy started shaking his head.

“No, no. No. Keep those on. I like it best that way.”

Confused, Casey blinked fast again. “But… how are you to fuck me with my clothes on?”

“Hah! Silly, silly boy! We SHALL fuck, but you’ll be the one doing it!” Tommy proclaimed.

Casey dropped his jaw. He’d be fucking him…? “I’m--me?”

Tommy nodded. “Yes. Oh, yes,” he said. He shuffled over to the bed and laid down upon it. “I have a very nice ass. Come look at it.”

More nervous than ever, Casey walked over, kneeled up onto the bed and looked down. Tommy did, in fact, have a nice, smooth backside, though what Casey was going to DO with it, he didn’t know. “What… would you like first?”

“Mount me. Put your hands on me and tell me… how beautiful I am.”

“Ah,” Casey said. He cleared his throat, put a knee up over his thighs and sat gently upon them. Placing his hands on the mounds of flesh, Casey squeezed. “You’re very… soft. I like your ass.”

“Oh, do go on…”

“This would be my first… me fucking another, meaning.”

“Really? I have that honor? Wonderful!”

Casey nodded slowly and continued molesting the man. His thumbs crept to the center, finding the pouting hole and pressing around it. Tommy moaned, loud and long. “You like that?” Casey asked.

“Yes. Tell me that I have the best ass you’ve ever seen,” Tommy said.

“Oh, yes… of course. It’s the most beautiful, by far. I love it,” Casey replied. “It fills my hands so, so nicely.”

“Mmm, it does. Harder. Squeeze me harder.”

Casey’s hold was already rough; the man was going to walk away with bruises, but if he wanted them, he’d get them. The only thoughts running through Casey’s head involved what in ALL hell he was going to do, how he was going to do it… he’d need the oil, of course, and it’d be best to stretch the man as Casey was good-sized. Swallowing harder, Casey grabbed the flask on the bedside table, poured some of the luqid into his hand then began rubbing it around Tommy’s anus. The moment Casey pushed a finger inside, the man groaned. “Yes… yes. Finger-fuck my beautiful, beautiful ass…”

It was hard not to laugh, but the impending act quelled the humor of this situation enough. Though the man didn’t give off any sensual feelings, Casey felt his cock react when it nudged against Tommy’s thigh. The area being hairless didn’t help. He moved away a little to keep from rubbing against Tommy. “Do you want another one…?”

“Go to three,” Tommy replied. Casey met this request, finding Tommy already loose and ready. Tommy bucked his hips into the bed in small jerks, moaning and groaning continuously. “This is going to be good, so good. Please, that’s enough… fuck me. Fuck me forever.”

“All r-right,” Casey said. He gripped his own cock and bit down on his lip, hard. ‘Forever’? He’d be lucky not to blow it before he fucked the man at all. Once oiled up, Casey positioned and moved the head of his cock around to find his way. It took longer than he would have liked, as his first attempt at entering the man failed when his shaft curled in and smoothed into his cleft. It had Casey stiffen all over and close his eyes. He decided to think of anything and everything that had nothing to do with sex. ‘The soap scum on the faucets. Those need to be cleaned. Lunch was especially good today--chicken salad sandwiches. I hope we have those again soon.’ Casey thought as he began pushing inside. Before he could continue thinking of the glimpse he’d caught of Danny picking his nose at dinner, the searing heat of Tommy’s body reached his brain. He was so hot, so smooth, slicked-up… “Oh, oh god--oh fuck… fuck!” Casey yelped. His toes curled all on their own and the unthinkable occurred. Much to his horror, he spilled into the man only halfway inside, even without the jerking and pushing. Casey threw his head back and frowned hard--no. Good Christ, no. He hadn’t just done that. He couldn’t have…

“Did you… no,” Tommy said, the lilt in his voice gone. He turned to look over his shoulder at Casey, a displeased expression on his face. “Are you serious? Did you just come?”

“I…” Casey went to speak, but the words in his brain were too jumbled to come out. His skin prickled, the heat of his body cooling and going goose-fleshed. He slipped out of the man and looked down at the mess. Shit. “I, um…”

“You did. You did!” Tommy turned his body onto his back and sat up. “That was preposterous! I didn’t pay for a three-second fuck, I paid for an hour!”

“Maybe… let me just work myself up again. It probably won’t take very--”

“No! No, I am completely dissatisfied! How COULD you?”

Perplexed and shaken, Casey opened his mouth but again, he couldn’t say anything. He shook his head and took hold of his cock. “Please, let me try again. As I said, this was my first time… doing this. I’m awfully inexperienced… and…”

“I should have known! Good lord, why did I have to choose a pansy-boy for this?” Tommy threw his legs to the side of the bed and stood up. One of the nearby hand towels was grabbed and he brought it to his backside to clean up the mess Casey had left. “Jamie does a better job, why didn’t I choose him? Even ZEKE, as butch as he is… shit! You came buckets, over nothing at all!”

“I’m sorry! Please, let me try again. I promise that I’ll make it worth your while!” Casey pleaded with desperation.

“Stephen will hear of this!”

Casey swallowed as he watched the man dress. If Stephen was going to hear this, so would everyone else. Filled to the brim with embarrassment and horror, Casey stood up in a shot and ran in front of the door. “Please, I beg of you… let’s try again,” he said. Tommy wasn’t listening; the moment his shoes were on, he was at the door and putting his hand on the knob. “Please!” Casey tried again.

“Out of my way, Caleb! I’m off to find someone who CAN fuck me the way I like!”

It was no use. Casey stepped aside and let Tommy leave. He still hoped to dissuade the man from making a scene; he grabbed his shirt and sped out after Tommy, who was already at the stairs. Struggling to get his shirt on and run at the same time, Casey caught up with him. “Perhaps… perhaps later in the night. You won’t have to pay again that way, we can just… try again!”

The man wasn’t listening. The moment they reached the parlor and came across Stephen, Tommy opened his mouth as wide as it could go. “Stephen!” he nearly yelled. It made Stephen take a step back with shock.

“Yes? Is something the matter?”

“Why didn’t you TELL me this little pansy couldn’t fuck?”

“I…” Stephen looked to Casey, who could only stand there with his lower lip shaking. “You hadn’t said--yes, the boy is new and relatively inexperienced, but I thought--”

“‘Inexperienced’? He shot his load the second his miserable prick touched my ass!”

The whole roomful of people--the boys, the customers, even the bartender and guards, were all watching on with interest. A sick-feeling, large lump formed in Casey’s stomach, stemming all the way into his throat. He sank into himself and cowered by the door, wanting to disappear.

“I’m very, very sorry, Thomas. Believe me, Casey is a fine boy--just inexperienced, like I said,” Stephen said. He put his hand on Tommy’s arm and patted it, but Tommy still looked petulant and angry.

“I expect a refund, or a free session!” he said.

“Of course, of course. No one goes unsatisfied here, at any time,” Stephen said. “Please, take your pick; and if you have another session, you’ll get the best room again, at the lesser-expensive room rate.”

Finally, Tommy seemed to calm. He nodded in quick jerks and pointed at Zeke. “Him. I want him, right now.”

“Certainly. Zeke?”

Zeke stood up slowly and stretched, then walked over. “Yes, Stephen?”

“Thomas would like to take you upstairs,” Stephen said.

“Oh, all right,” Zeke said. He looked to Casey and made a thin-lipped smile. Though he didn’t say anything, Casey felt his amusement in spades. He turned his eyes down to the rug and steeled his jaw; there was no way he could get back into the game now.

“Give him a nice, good fucking, Zeke!” Danny called out as the two of them left the parlor.

Zeke cocked his head and made a small, taunting shrug Casey’s way before turning to the stairs. Feeling dizzy, Casey finally stepped into the room and approached Stephen. “I…” he started in a small, shaky voice. “I’m sorry. I d-didn’t mean it, he just--I never expected to do… what he wanted me to do…”

“It’s all right, Casey. Don’t worry. Things like this happen sometimes,” Stephen replied. It only made Casey choke up more; tears were threatening his eyes, especially when he heard everyone in the room start to titter with giggles.

“I lost you money, though. And everyone’s laughing at me.”

“Pay it no mind. Go ahead, let them have a laugh or two. It’ll pass.”

Though Casey would have rather run upstairs and hide under his covers, he knew he had to make up for the loss he’d caused. He turned away from the man and took tentative steps over to the bar, keeping his eyes away from the others. He leaned onto the counter and sighed. “A vanilla, please,” he said to Robert.

“Sure,” Robert said. The fact that he wore a knowing smile made Casey squirm with discomfort.

“Sooo…”

Not Danny. Anyone but him. Casey flicked his eyes to his left and pursed his lips. “Don’t bother me.”

Danny cooed and turned to the man he was with. “He’s a good boy, really. But they should stamp ‘bottoms’ on his forehead and have done with.”

The man snorted and shook his head. “Not one to fuck, are you?” he said to Casey.

“No,” Casey answered. Robert put his drink on the bar and Casey grabbed it up. After thanking him, Casey turned away and walked over to the couch where Noah sat. Wanting nothing more than a sympathetic ear--or hands--he went to lament in signs, but before he could sit down, two men approached him. They each wore small sneers and narrowed eyes.

“Hey there,” one of them said. He made a small glance to the man with him, then crossed his arms. “Name’s Wally. This is Brandon.”

“He… Hello,” Casey replied.

“What a production THAT was,” Wally said.

“The littler boys are meant to be fucked, in our opinion,” Brandon added. Casey couldn’t help a small sniffle. He rubbed his wrist under his nose and continued staring into his bubbly drink. One of Brandon’s hands rose up and cupped Casey’s chin. He tipped the boy’s head up and mocked a look of sympathy. “Aw, poor thing. He’s gonna cry.”

“As well he should. What a naughty thing, leaving a man dissatisfied… when it’s your job to please,” Wally said.

“I didn’t mean to. I just… please, don’t mock me,” Casey said in a pleading voice.

This seemed to egg them on, as their smiles widened. Wally slipped a hand around Casey’s waist and reeled him in. “You can cry if you want to. We don’t mind that.”

“At all,” Brandon said.

It became apparent that these two had honed on him in a very specific way. Casey looked between them and let his lips shudder open--perhaps they’d pay extra to see a boy upset. “It wasn’t m-my fault,” he said, allowing a tear to roll down his cheek. Sure enough, Brandon put his fingers to it and smoothed the drop down to his lips.

“But it is. You should make up for the trouble you caused, sweet thing,” he said.

Casey swallowed and nodded. “You can have me, if you l-like. I’ll do anything you want,” he replied, making damned sure that he sounded desperate and sad, though he didn’t need much help.


~*~


The night had worn on with Casey wanting to curl up and hide for most of it. Every time he came across one of the boys, they chuckled under their breath. The customers had done the same, making their stares and amusement more obvious. His teary nature had reeled in two more jobs, however, men eager to do things to the sad, little boy. by the time Casey had showered for the last time and gotten into his nightshirt, he’d been well-fucked by four men, the first two tag-teaming him. Though Wally and Brandon had been the most eager to taunt and ridicule him, Casey had secretly enjoyed the small, public spanking sessions and tearing up for them.

Now that it was over, the worst was yet to come. Casey had been spared any discussion with the other boys over what had happened, but he expected it to arrive soon enough. He heard Zeke’s whistling before the young man entered the bedroom, freshly-washed and making a point of not greeting or even looking Casey’s way. Casey, however, stared at every movement he made, from getting dressed to combing his hair. When Zeke went so far as to take out a book and start reading, Casey sniffed loudly. “Get it over with,” he snapped.

“Hmm?” Zeke absently replied.

“Tell me what a pathetic little loser I am. How bad I did tonight. Go on.”

Zeke flipped a page and shrugged. “Tommy left satisfied, and you’re not fired or anything. Leave it at that.”

“Right. As if you don’t find it jolly-funny, what happened,” Casey said.

“Hah, to be honest, sure. It was hilarious,” Zeke replied. He finally ignored the book to look at Casey. “Something like that happening is always funny, but to have it happen with Tommy as a customer? Even better.”

“Oh YES, Tommy. I bet you gave his ‘beautiful, beautiful ass’ exactly what it wanted.”

Zeke chuckled. “Yea, he does that.”

“Mmm.”

“So maybe you should practice it--lasting, meaning. There’s always gonna be some guy who wants a bottom to top, y’know. You’re not always ‘the girl’,” Zeke said.

“Maybe I should be, after tonight,” Casey said. He flopped onto his back and groaned. “I just… want… to die.”

“Oh, stop the dramatics. Get up.”

“Huh?”

“Up. Sit up.”

Confused, Casey hoisted himself back into a sitting position. “What?” he asked. He watched on as Zeke lowered his pajama bottoms and kicked them off. Zeke’s cock came into view, causing Casey to swallow. He was well-endowed, long and strong-looking. “Um… what are you… doing?”

“Take off the nightshirt.”

“Zeke--what?”

Zeke took a deep breath and kneeled on the bed; he then put a hand upon his cock and quirked an eyebrow. “You wanna have a lesson in this shit, or what?”

“Like--lasting? That kind of thing?” Casey asked. Zeke’s blank expression served up enough answers. With a sigh, Casey removed his nightshirt and copied Zeke’s pose. “Okay. What?”

A small smile rose on Zeke’s lips. “They waxed you, huh?”

“Yea. Today.”

“Thought that’s why they took you down the hall. Looks nice.”

The comment made Casey’s cheeks go warm. He shouldn’t have been so shy, as clients said this sort of thing all the time, but he couldn’t help it. “Um… all right.”

“Don’t think. About anything. Just put your hand on yourself, but don’t move it for a minute,” Zeke instructed. Casey did so; he already felt arousal, and it showed in his sharp intake of breath. “Don’t start gasping and choking. Breathe normally.”

“’K…” Casey said. He forced himself to take deep exhalations and inhalations, though they came out shaky. Staring ahead at Zeke, he waited for further instruction.

“Close your eyes,” Zeke said, his voice going soft. “And move your hand up and down, real slow.”

Again, Casey complied. Another gasp of breath went in, but he stilled and let it out in a slow stream.

“How’s it feel?”

Casey swallowed and shrugged. “It’s nice, I guess.”

“Don’t move.”

“I didn’t.”

“You shrugged,” Zeke said.

Casey opened his eyes and frowned. “You told me to close my eyes--but you’re not?”

“I know this stuff. Shut ‘em and relax,” Zeke told him.

Huffing a little, Casey closed his eyes again and continued rubbing lightly. “Now what?”

“Just be quiet. Listen to your body,” Zeke said. Casey heard him take a deep breath, then let it out. He began timing his breaths with Zeke, finding a smooth, easy pattern. “Good. Breathe with me.”

For the next few minutes, this was all they did, until Zeke let out a soft moan. “Now hold it and rub a bit faster,” he said.

He was only a few strokes in when Casey started feeling his cock harden and react, and he started losing himself in it. “I’m gonna… I can’t…”

“Stop rubbing and pinch the head. Don’t pinch it off, just a squeeze.”

Casey furrowed his brow and did so, though it was hard to do. The urge to climax was there, and it was tough to deny. Still, he stopped and pinched himself off. He held his breath for a moment of two, then sighed it out. “’K.”

“Start up again, slowly. Just feel it--don’t think about sex as a point-A to point-B kinda thing. Picture yourself doing it just to do it,” Zeke said. “You don’t even have to come, even after doing it for hours.”

“Oh, Christ.” Casey had to chuckle. “I let go pretty easy.”

“You don’t have to. In fact, just stop.”

“What?”

“Everything. Take a deep breath, open your eyes and get dressed.”

“Huh? I thought you were gonna… teach me,” Casey said, now looking at Zeke with a perplexed expression. Zeke smiled and stepped over to his bookshelf. While he looked through the titles, Casey looked down at the young man’s rock-solid shaft. He didn’t realize that he was licking his lips until Zeke grabbed a book and turned back to Casey; the boy darted his eyes up and coughed into his hand.

“What, are you checking me out?” Zeke asked, amused.

“Yea, so?” Casey defensively replied.

“Whatever. Here,” Zeke said. He then handed the book he’d chosen to Casey and smiled. “Read this. It’ll tell you everything you wanna know about sex and having it without blowing your load five seconds into fucking.”

Casey peered at the title: The Art of Tantra. The cover had a picture of what looked to be Asian art, with two people… “Whoa, where’d you get this? They’d NEVER put this sort of thing on the shelves,” Casey said, pointing at the picture of two people engaged in an artful sexual position.

“Eh, it’s out there. You just gotta look closer,” Zeke said.

“So, lesson over?” Casey asked.

Zeke grunted and sank back onto his bed. After lighting a cigarette, he kicked a foot up onto his knee and tapped it in the air. “Read some, then I’ll help you out another time.”

“Okay,” Casey said. Though he wanted to delve into the mysterious, erotic-looking book, he chose to follow Zeke’s lead and light his own smoke. The two of them sat in silence a moment before Casey sighed and went to speak. “It was goddamned embarrassing, what Tommy did.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Tommy’s an idiot. He didn’t have to get like that,” Zeke replied. “He has to turn everything into a three-ring circus.”

“I’ll say. He kept telling me to tell him he’s beautiful and stuff. It was weird.”

“I’ve fucked better.”

“No kidding.”

“When you go to piss, you can try something else--”

“Wait, huh?” Casey had to laugh. “‘When I go to piss’?”

“Jesus, just listen for two seconds. When you go to piss, work your muscles. There’s one down there that when you ‘go’, you can stop the flow. If you can do that a few times, hold it for a few seconds, you can work on doing the same thing when you’re about to come,” Zeke explained.

“Oh… ‘kay,” Casey said.

“What, don’t believe me?”

“No, no… I’ll try it.”

Zeke nodded and they continued smoking. Casey stared at the wafts of smoke going to the ceiling and let himself become pleasantly hypnotized by it. His eyes felt droopy--even with the probable teasing he’d receive the next day, he was relaxed and at peace.

“It was fucking funny. But you’ll get over it,” Zeke interrupted his thoughts. Casey chuckled.

“Shut up.”

“Uh huh. And no jerking-off tonight.”

“Aw, c’mon… you got me all excited, and what?”

“Hey, you’re the one who wants to learn how to last. I hear you moaning and groaning and I’ll whack the shit outta you with my pillow. A guaranteed mood-killer,” Zeke said.

Casey fell into a small fit of giggles; after a moment, Zeke did as well.


~*~