|for rivulet027 - fic - Lessons in Life [Hunter/Jason Kemp]
||[Mar. 30th, 2005|10:20 pm]
Lessons in Life|
Pairing: Hunter/Jason Kemp
Summary: Hunter teaches Jason some essential life lessons. And learns a few himself...
1. Spot your mark...
In Hunter's line of work, you learned to read people real quick. Or else you tended to get fucked over, real quick. So the first time Hunter sees the new kid, he has him pegged in an instant. He was easy to spot, the new kids always are. Standing under the bridge on Freemont Street, all desperation and nerves. Leaning through the passenger side window of any for shit Buick that rolls up next to them. Taking anything they can get because they haven't learned the ropes yet. Who to go with, who not to go with, to collect money up front. Of course the kid got into the Buick. Hunter rolled his eyes, as he jumped up and down, trying to keep warm. They all had to learn the hard way - sooner or later.
The new kid was leaning against the fence, his neck craned as he watched down the street, waiting for a car to appear. Hunter glared at him from across the street even though the kid couldn't see him, wasn't paying attention to him. He tugged his jacket closer around him and folded his arms across his chest. Who the fuck did this newbie think he was? Hunter crossed the street on this thought, heading straight for the kid. Hunter paused for a second next to him, staring the kid down. He was still watching down the street, still not paying attention. Hunter grabbed the fence and rattled it sharply, knocking the kid a few steps forward.
Startled, the kid whipped around, his eyes dark and wide. "What the fuck, man?" he demanded uneasily, shifting his weight as he took in Hunter's fierce expression.
"This is my spot, man. Fuck off." Hunter used the couple of inches he had over the kid to his advantage. He might not be the toughest guy on the street but Hunter could protect himself. And he wasn't going to let this... little blond kid steal his favorite spot.
The kid rubbed a hand over his chin, the dimple there disappearing and reappearing around his fingers. He shrugged finally, letting his hand drop. "It's not like there are any cars. It's not a competition." he said simply as he walked away.
Incredulous, Hunter yelled at his back, "Of course it's a competition!"
But Hunter's response was drowned out as a car rushed by and a swarm of boys descended to the street on a chorus of, "You like young dick?!"
2. You're in control...
Hunter sees the same kid a couple days later. He's hard to miss. Fucking fluorescent colors. Hunter makes a note of that. Not from around here. No self-respecting local would be caught dead in an outfit like that.
Hunter hears from Newport and some of the other guys that the kid is from Florida. That doesn't surprise him. Lots of kids have that story out here. They thought they'd leave home, be independent or whatever. They thought they'd make it to New York City, that they'd make it big. Hunter never thought that. He knew life was harder than most people ever imagined.
It was down below 20 degrees. A couple of the guys had set a fire in a trash can in the middle of the empty lot on Monroe. The way they were all crowded around it now, desperate for heat, Hunter could tell not a lot of business was going to be done that night. But he was on the corner freezing his dick off because he was a professional.
From his station on the street, Hunter could see them, highlighted by orange flame. There were the regulars, denim clad shadows. And there was the new kid, a part of the fire in neon orange. Hunter could hear them too, if he listened hard enough. He could just pick out Bobby Newport's voice, sounding like he had just gargled with gravel. And then the new kid, low and even.
"Where you from anyway?" Bobby asked, watching the kid with an amused expression. Bobby had about a foot of room between him and the barrel. The kid was shivering hard, eying the fire like he might climb on top of it any second.
"Florida." He answered back, still inching closer to the heat.
Even from as far away as he was, Hunter could see Bobby's eyebrows raise. "Why the fuck did you leave?!" Locals never understood why anyone would choose to leave warmer, brighter cities for the Pitts. Hunter sure as fuck wouldn't live here if he had the choice.
The kid lifted a shoulder, his hands so far over the barrel that his sleeves danced with catching fire. "I like the cold." he stated, like it should have been obvious.
Hunter snorted a laugh as he paced around the corner. It was a good answer.
3. Keep in control...
Hunter hears a lot more whispers about the kid. There's not a lot to do during the down times and there's only so many great Sugar Daddy stories that a hustler has to tell. The new kid was a break in the monotony. And finding things out about him became a favorite pastime of some of the guys.
Turns out that he was from Tampa and the only thing he had left behind in Florida was the foster care system. Rumor had it that he was 18, at least two and a half years older than Hunter, who was several months past 15. Hunter guessed that he'd have to stop calling him kid now. But it took Hunter two and a half more days to find out that his name was Jason.
They were still in the empty lot. A couple of the guys were sleeping in the abandoned cars during the day. It was one way to keep warm. Hunter was perched lazily on the hood of blue Subaru. T.J. had sprung for a pie from Papagano's, and Hunter was never opposed to free food. But much more interesting than the pizza, was the new kid, watching him from over the hood of the car. Looked like he was working up the nerve to actually speak to Hunter. Hunter didn't blame him for it, especially after their last encounter.
"So your name's Hunter, right?" The kid eventually asked, while grabbing a slice of pizza from the box T.J. was offering around.
"Yeah." Hunter grunted back, disinterest written on his face.
The kid wasn't fazed at all, he kept his gaze steady on Hunter. "I'm Jason." He introduced himself, trying to fold his pizza into a more manageable shape.
Hunter bit off the end of his slice. His previous statement should have been a conversation killer. Kid had... Jason had some balls to keep trying. "Good for you." Hunter replied belatedly.
Jason nodded, finally letting his gaze drift from Hunter, passing over the others that were gathered near by. He stood silently for a good minute. "You're pretty young, aren't you?" Jason blurted out, sounding as if curiosity had gotten the best of him.
Hunter rolled his eyes, leaning back against the windshield. He probably had more years of experience than anyone on this street and he was the young one. Jason had returned to staring at him, it was obvious that he was waiting for a response. "15." Hunter told him, though his eyes wondered why it was any of Jason's business.
Jason ignored the look, whistling through his teeth at Hunter's answer. "I guess better out here than in foster care." Jason said it quietly but Hunter heard the bitter edge in his words. And that spoke to him more than anything. It felt like they were bonding or some shit. It was kind of freaking Hunter out.
He picked the remaining cheese off of his slice, eating it slowly. "Better anywhere then with my mother." Hunter joked, though it fell a bit flat. The truth always did.
Jason laughed, seeming pleased with the attempt to create a lighter tone. "Yeah. And it's not so bad out here." Hunter looked at him in amazement. He'd never heard anyone say something so stupidly positive in all of his life.
"Right." Hunter replied sarcastically. He didn't know how else to respond.
"It's not." Jason reiterated. "Because we have..." He trailed off, his eyebrows lowering thoughtfully as he considered his surroundings.
Hunter's leg swung lazily down the side of the car. "Pizza." Hunter finished Jason's sentence for him, tossing the last piece of his crust into his mouth. It was the best Hunter could come up with.
Jason's mouth tilted into a smile and he began to laugh. "I guess life is good then. We have pizza."
Hunter cracked a smile as well. So he wasn't very good with optimism. Who needed it anyway? He rolled his eyes at Jason from underneath the fringe of his hair.
And then they laughed together.
Everyone knows that you have to have a sense of humor when you're hustling. It's a job. And if you don't see it as funny, chances are you see it as disgusting or frightening. That's why Hunter doesn't take his life too seriously, why he's always the first to make a joke. Because that's how he survives. Hustling's just an exciting, fun, and overall great way to make non-reportable income. It was just a job.
Hunter wandered down the aisles of the drug store, pocketing lighters and candy as he went. He was waiting for Jason, standing a couple of feet away. He was at the pharmacy counter, picking up some prescription. Hunter smirked to himself, listening to Jason flirt with the guy. And even funnier? The guy, old with a mustache, flirting back.
And that's why Hunter had decided to be nicer to Jason. If nothing else, he was good for a laugh.
"New boyfriend?" Hunter asked when a minute later Jason joined him in aisle 3. Jason replied with a quick shove into the candy display case.
"Fuck you." Jason replied, choked with laughter as Hunter struggled to right himself. Hunter threw a Hershey Bar at Jason's head, as he returned to his feet.
"Got a hundred bucks?" Came Hunter's smart-ass reply. He pushed Jason toward the exit, following him out.
Hunter pulled out a Milky Way as soon as they hit the street. "Why the fuck did we just waste 20 minutes of life in a drug store?" he bitched, eating half of the candy bar in one bite.
Jason rolled his eyes, walking backward down Parsons Ave. He was back lit by the sun and Hunter noticed randomly that Jason's hair wasn't really blond, it was brown. Dyed a brighter color but growing out... Jason waved his little white pharmacy bag at Hunter, drawing back his attention. "Because it throws the johns off if I stop breathing while I'm sucking their cocks?" Jason retorted.
Hunter tucked a hunk of his hair behind one ear, raising an eyebrow. "Glad your priorities are in order. Breathing, sucking cock..." He tossed Jason the other half of his candy bar, which he caught one-handed.
"What can I say? World peace is a close third." Sarcasm crept into Jason's tone, but his eyes were laughing.
Hunter snickered back, pulling a Baby Ruth out of his back pocket. "Well if anyone can solve world hunger through their tireless efforts of butt fucking, it'll be you."
Jason flipped him off as they turned a corner.
5. Display your assets...
Jason lived in Vaseline Towers but then so did almost everybody else. Even Hunter did sometimes, when money was good. Or when a friend had a couch and generosity to spare. Not that Jason stayed there very often. Hustlers didn't work normal hours. And the beds they found themselves in weren't often their own.
"Dude. You only have a mattress." Hunter looked around Jason's apartment in amusement. It was possibly the smallest, emptiest place he'd seen in his entire life. Aside from his mother's heart of course. He'd followed Jason up here out of curiosity. Hunter took a shallow breath of stale air, coughing slightly. He'd just learned how curiosity had killed the cat. Asbestos.
Jason shrugged, unconcerned by the criticism. "What else do I need?"
Hunter kicked the mattress appraisingly, somewhat repulsed as he watched a cloud of dust erupt from it. He could appreciate the fact that Jason was low-key or low-maintenance or whatever the fuck - but this was going too far. Hunter had more stuff than Jason and he didn't even have an apartment.
"Need? I don't know. A box for your shit?" This time Hunter kicked at the pile of clothes Jason had left on the floor.
Jason shot Hunter a 'go fuck yourself' look over his shoulder. "I'm saving up money." He explained simply.
Hunter paused, his nose wrinkling as he kicked the mattress once again. He didn't ask Jason what the money was for. It didn't matter what Jason's hopes were. The only thing that mattered was what he would do. Action always trumped intentions as far as Hunter was concerned.
Instead of responding to Jason's statement, Hunter yawned and started moving toward the door. "It's getting late." Not that he had anywhere to be or to go. But Jason didn't need to know that.
When Hunter looked over at him, Jason was staring back. "Why don't you spend the night?" Jason offered easily. "It's not much to look at but it's comfortable." he continued, motioning toward the mattress.
Hunter nodded, as though it mattered. But he'd slept on concrete. He could sleep anywhere. It was just a matter of whether he wanted to sleep here. Because Hunter had thought he'd had Jason all figured out. But now he couldn't figure out what Jason's motives were, what he was thinking. Jason kept surprising him.
Hunter shrugged finally and accepted. "Why not?" Take advantage of every opportunity, that was Hunter's motto. And the chance to sleep inside tonight was probably the best option he had at the moment.
And even though Jason hogged the blankets and snored - loudly, it was the best sleep Hunter had had in a long time. He didn't have to wonder why. It was because it was comfortable.
6. $100 to fuck. $50 to blow...
Jason did good business. He didn't have the confidence in his work that someone like Hunter had. Jason still couldn't walk up to a car knowing that he was the hottest fuck on the street and that anyone would be lucky to pay a $100 to have him. But Jason's face and his body made up for this lack of confidence. The dimpled chin, the blond tinged hair, the tight ass. Hunter could see the appeal.
It all started with this john of Jason's that liked to watch. Usually it was just him watching Jason jack off or whatever. But he'd had a windfall of money, wanted to try something new.
"How about two for the price of one?" The john joked nervously, running a slick palm over thinning hair.
Hunter held out a hand, patented smirk on his face. "How 'bout two for the price of two like we agreed?" He shot back sarcastically. He was standing in a room in the Motel Sunrise, the little place off of Richerton. Nicer than a lot of places Hunter had been to. Obviously Jason agreed, given the way he was bouncing on the bed like he had never seen one before.
The john pulled a wad of money out of his front pants pocket, counting it quickly before handing it to Hunter, who checked it again. 200 bucks, like the man said. Hunter tucked it into his jacket pocket before beginning to shed his clothes.
Hunter kept his eyes on Jason during the brief process. As they both threw aside their shirts and wriggled out of their pants. The john had pulled up a chair in the corner near the head of the bed. He was sitting there, where he could see everything.
Jason kept checking to see where the john was as he sprawled back against the bed, obviously not as comfortable with this as he had originally let on when he had made the offer to Hunter. But Jason was hard and as far as Hunter was concerned that was the only thing that mattered right now.
He crawled over Jason's body, giving the john an arch look. The john simply nodded as Hunter straddled Jason. Hunter guessed that meant that he didn't have anything specific in mind for this session. Which was fine. Hunter didn't mind playing by his own rules.
He was kneeling over Jason, his groin rubbing against Jason's each time Jason inhaled. Hunter leaned over, his hair curtaining over his face. And he pressed kisses over Jason's skin; the soft freckles on his collar bone, the underside of his chin. Slow and steady to start out. Then mouth kisses, then deeper. His entire body was completely pressed against Jason's now. His nipples on Jason's chest. His ribs and Jason's. His cock with Jason's underneath it. His entire body was pulsing with the sensation.
It was still semi-weird for Hunter. Fucking someone that he knew. But there was a first time for everything. Like the first time Jason ran his fingers up Hunter's spine and Hunter shuddered, his own fingers digging into the skin of Jason's thighs.
Hunter knew that the john was in the corner, watching them, probably rubbing himself raw. But Hunter's own vision was narrowing rapidly as Jason wrapped his legs around Hunter's hips and pushed against him. And Hunter could forget about everything but the way that Jason was breathing, deep and hot in the curve of Hunter's neck. And the way Jason's sweat felt, pooling in the hollow of his stomach. The way Hunter couldn't stop thrusting against him, because the friction of their cocks moving together was better each time Hunter did it. So Hunter wrapped an arm around Jason's waist; bracing him, half-raising him. And then he was moving a hand over Jason's ass, a finger between his cheeks.
Jason grabbed a handful of Hunter's hair and tugged as one of Hunter's finger entered him. Tugged again at the stretch of a second finger. Hunter's heart was pounding away from him and he was sweating. His hands were slick with it and sticky with what must have been pre-come though Hunter can't remember if he had handled their cocks. His memory was fogged, it took him a second to recall that the panting he hears is coming from the john in the corner. Getting his money's worth.
But by then Hunter was so close, Jason was so close, that the only sounds that were truly registering were their own grunts and the wet sound of their cocks rubbing together. And Hunter couldn't last any longer. His fingers were in Jason, and he hooked them, watching as Jason crumbled against him. When his own orgasm hit a second later, Hunter wondered why it felt almost unexpected. Like a meteor hitting the earth or some shit. And he marveled at it as he collapsed on top of Jason, aftershocks running through his body. Every part of him, even his finger tips, tingling.
7. Collect the money up front...
Hunter always saw the same people everyday. Mostly because there's only so many places that they could go and hustlers can't exactly afford to take vacation days. Hunter once blew a guy when he had a fever of a 103. He knew his exact temperature because his john that day had happened to be a doctor and an okay guy. Jason was made of even tougher stuff. He was the kind of guy that could have an asthma attack and keep fucking.
Jason had been wheezing for hours. Not that Hunter had been counting or anything. But it had been a slow night so far and under these circumstances, Jason’s struggle to catch his breath was hard to ignore.
Especially since Hunter was positive that Jason had his inhaler on him. He was just being an idiot. Trying to save it until the attack got really bad. And if Jason wanted to be stupid it was none of Hunter’s business. He had more important things to worry about.
“Next car is mine.” Hunter muttered determinedly. “The fuck if I’m standing out here all night and not pulling.” He buried his hands in the pockets on his jeans, watching the road for any sign of headlights. There wasn’t any.
“What the fuck?!” Hunter continued. “People don’t want to get laid anymore?!” He yelled this down the empty street. Catcalls of agreement sounded on either side of him. Jason didn’t say anything but Hunter wasn’t expecting him to. He’d stopped speaking about an hour earlier.
Another forty-five minutes passed, with no customers. Jason’s wheezing only got worse as time slipped by until finally it was interrupted by the rumble of an engine. “About fucking time!” Hunter shouted as he moved to stand in the middle of the street. The car, a mid-size SUV, slowed as it neared him. Hunter flipped his hair back off of his face, his hands on his hips, just waiting for the driver to brake.
He strolled up to the car window, bending to make his pitch. “You like young dick?” The john leaned over the center console, checking Hunter out through the open passenger side window.
“How much for a blow job?” he asked Hunter, practically drooling on the leather interior.
Hunter licked his lips slowly. “50.” They both knew it would be fifty dollars well spent.
The john nodded eagerly. “Get in.”
Hunter turned to shoot a grin at Jason, his hand already reaching for the car door handle. And that's when Jason hit the ground gasping.
"Shit!" Hunter exclaimed in surprise. Jason was frantically digging through his pockets, searching for his inhaler. "You alright, man?" Hunter called over, still poised to open the SUV's door. Jason didn't even look up, his focus was entirely on his fingers, fumbling on his jacket pockets.
Hunter turned again, peeking in the car window. The john was impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Shit." Hunter muttered again, pulling away from the car reluctantly. "Be right back." Hunter told the guy, before breaking into a jog over to Jason's side.
Dropping to his knees next to Jason, Hunter immediately reached to dig through Jason's pockets looking for the inhaler. Jason was shaking, though he wasn't gasping anymore. He couldn't pull in enough breath to gasp at this point.
Hunter finally yanked the inhaler out of one of the side pockets, shoving it into Jason's face. He heard the puff of it as he turned his back on Jason to check on his potential client. And he was just in time to see the SUV pull away with someone else seated in the passenger seat.
"Fuck!!" Hunter shouted, pissed off. He turned back to Jason, who was breathing now, if uneasily.
"You owe me 50 bucks." Hunter told him flatly.
Jason nodded before replying, his voice raspy. "Don't worry. I'm good for it."
8. Know who to go with...
If you wanted to make money hustling, there were certain things you had to know. For instance, you had to know how to give good head. Some people had to learn this. Some people, like Hunter, were just born sex gods.
And there were other things. You had to know that 12pm was a prime time for business. Because business men sometimes like a little something sweet over their lunch breaks. And you had to know that if you hung out on Liberty Ave, it was best to do it on a Friday. That was when the men had paychecks in their pockets and were dying to be shown a good time. Hunter knew this. Hunter knew it all.
There was a bar down in the warehouse district. It was a for shit hole in the wall. But a lot of the guys still went there because they didn't ID and they didn't look too closely at certain activities. It made doing business easier.
Hunter never stayed there for more than an hour. If the crowd was lame it wasn't worth his time. He looked over the men gathered at the bar and grimaced. He should have just went to Babylon with Jason.
He was just moving to get out of there when someone grabbed him by the arm. "Leaving?" The john questioned, positioning himself between Hunter and the exit. Hunter moved his hair out of his eyes, letting his gaze drift over the guy. He was old and balding but they all were. Hunter wouldn't have minded that. It was just... there was something off about him. His mouth was too tense, his face was too hard. "How about we go back to my place?" Even the john's voice was rough and tired.
But the strangest thing was that he wasn't looking at Hunter's crotch, even as he propositioned him. He was staring straight into Hunter's eyes. And Hunter didn't like that.
"I've got other plans." Hunter rejected him, not bothering to hide his distaste.
If it was possible the guy's expression went ever harder and his hands tightened into fists. Hunter braced himself, suddenly wary.
"Fuck you then." The guy bit off, cold anger lacing his tone. He pushed past Hunter, walking heavily back to the bar, settling on a stool.
"You wish!" Hunter yelled over the noise of the bar as he backed away. But the guy didn't react. Probably hadn't even heard Hunter at all. It was only much later that Hunter would admit that that was probably a good thing.
9. Know who not to go with...
Hunter had always taken care of himself. And he always would take care of himself. Because he couldn't count on anybody else. That's what everybody has to learn eventually. People are always running some kind of game on you. And then when they get what they want, they'll leave. Hunter only has himself. He knows that. And that's all he needs.
"I don't think you should go with him, dude." Hunter kept his warning low, out of the john's earshot.
Jason frowned in confusion, picking at the bottom hem of the green tank he was wearing. "Why not?"
Hunter didn't know how to explain this feeling. He didn't like this guy. Ever since their first encounter and for sure after all the shit Hunter'd heard on him since then. "He's a freak." He responded uneasily. He didn't want to say the real reason. That he didn't like the look in the guy's eyes.
"They all are." Jason shot back, unconcerned. "Besides, I need the money." He was already moving toward where the john was waiting for him by the exit.
"I heard he's a cop. You don't want to mess with that." Hunter countered, wondering why he was bothering. Jason could do whatever he wanted, it was none of Hunter's business. Jason was a big boy and Hunter was not his mother. So what did it matter to him if Jason went with this guy?
"A cop?" Jason's voice raised with interest. He gave the john an appraising look. "Maybe I'll be able to get more money out of this then I thought." He said, his decision cemented.
Hunter shrugged irritably. "Whatever." He'd tried to stop Jason. It wasn't Hunter's problem anymore if Jason got in over his head.
"I'll see you later." Jason grinned as he turned away, walking outside with the john a second later. Hunter turned back to the bar. It wasn't his problem. Jason could take care of himself.
The next time he sees Jason is in a photo on the wall of the Liberty Diner. Hunter doesn't even flinch. If he had learned anything in his life, it was not to get attached. Hunter had learned that the hard way.