LOVER FOR PAY: The Escort & The Teacher (M/M)

by A. J. Blake

  “I know you’re pissed off to no end,” Marbell replied, and since he wasn’t trying to keep his voice down, London guessed the man’s wife wasn’t around. “I just want you to calm down for a second so I can tell you why I didn’t let you know I was...I was married.”

  “Then fucking speak!” London commanded.

  “What are you doing Wednesday?”

  “Anything that doesn’t involve you, that’s for sure. Dammit, Marbell, if you can’t tell me right now I’m hanging the fuck up. I’ll be in Wonderland tonight getting drunk off my ass, so maybe you can drop in there if you have a chance to visit a gay club while your wife sleeps easily at home.” When Marbell didn’t say anything further, London said, “There’s my answer,” and he hung up without another word.

  Wonderland hadn’t changed from the last time he’d been. It was crowded, the music was crazed, people of all kinds danced with one another simply to have a good time. The vibrant strobe lights twirled as they did, and the bass reverberating within every chest. The air was filled with the smell of sweat, cologne, perfume, and a tinge of marijuana. As he found his way to the bar, he was bumped and grinded against too many times to count, but it didn’t bother him one bit.

  He called for a straight shot of Jack once he got the bartender’s attention, and when he decided that wasn’t enough, he threw back three more. Some people would call him childish for acting the way he was towards Marbell, but he couldn’t give a fuck for all the money in the world. Squeezing a lemon slice against his teeth after just one more strong shot, London knocked the counter of the bar when someone bumped into him from behind. It was a tall guy with two-toned hair, black on one side of his spiked fauxhawk while the other was a bright blue. He had dark brown eyes and long curly lashes, eyeliner drawn thick under them. Dressed in tight black skinnies and a simple grey denim vest with studs and patches from different bands sewn into it, he didn’t look like the typical guy London would be into.

  “Man,” the guy said, a dangerous-looking smirk on his snake-bite pierced lips, “I would say sorry for bumping into you, but damn you’re hot as fuck.”

  With the liquor not failing to make his mind a little wobbly, London had to keep a hand on the bar to stop himself from stumbling. “And you are very forward,” he smiled blearily.

  Rocker Guy took London’s hand, pulling him away from the counter. “Wanna dance?” he asked, “I’ve got something that’ll make you feel better than some plain shots of Mister Daniels.”

  Foggy as he was, London shook his head, and in doing so, it felt like his brain was in a glass jar filled with citric acid. “I may be heartbroken,” he said, “but I’m not that much of a fucking idiot.”

  “Oh, come on,” Rocker Guy pouted, he took a step closer, pressing his body against London’s, hands sliding along his hips and around towards his ass.

  Before Rocker Guy could get a hold of his ass, London grabbed his hands and pulled them away. “Look,” he said, struggling to keep his eyes open, “You’re not my type, okay.”

  “What’s your type, then? You like pretty twinks like yourself, bears, or jocks? What?”

  London gave Rocker Guy a confused look, “I’m not a twink.”

  “Nah, I guess you’re right, I was just being flirty. You look more like a punk/jock hybrid. And that’s hot as fuck, man.” He tugged at the front of London’s jeans, trying to pull him along by his belt loops. “Come on, we don’t have to hook up afterwards, I’m not the type of guy that begs to get laid. Just come dance with me, babe.”

  With the liquor still in the process of taking a toll on him, London gave in to Rocker Guy, allowing himself to be led out to the wild dance floor. He hardly knew what he was doing once he was out there, the music and intoxication taking over his every move. The music pounded his eardrums, laughter, and the level of madness going on around him was enough to take his mind off everything.

  As he swayed back and forth, London could feel gentle hands gliding all over his body, Rocker Guy kissing at his neck, his touch slithering across his chest, ass and crotch. London turned toward him, letting his arms find support around Rocker Guy’s neck as he was brought in. Hours seemed to pass when in reality it was only twenty minutes or so that had gone by. They grinded against one another, and when London was pulled even closer, Rocker Guy held something up. It was a tiny pink tablet the size of an M&M, the letter ‘E’ inscribed on either side. “Take some with me. It’ll be fun.”

  Even with how fuzzy he was, London knew exactly what the pill was.

  Ecstasy, the number one club drug.

  “I don’t know, man,” London said, the music pulsing at his temples. “I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.”

  Rocker Guy placed the tablet in the center of his palm, cracking it with his thumbnail. “Half, then? Come on, it’ll loosen you up.”

  When London looked like he was in the middle of a debate, Rocker Guy placed his half of the tablet on his own tongue, not swallowing it yet, and then lifted a hand to touch London’s lips, running his thumb across his bottom lip.

  Ecstasy had been an easily accessible drug when he was a bit younger. He’d used whenever he didn’t want to feel so stressed. This would give a helping hand in taking his mind off things, so...why not? London opened his mouth then, and stuck his tongue out. Rocker Guy smiled triumphantly, placing the chipped pink remedy on the tip of London’s tongue.

  The moment London closed his mouth so he could dissolve the pill, he was spun around by a tight hand clasping the upper part of his right arm. Whipped around, he met the brown eyes of Marbell. His wavy fringe was swooped off to the side, and he was dressed as though having just gotten off work, but with the anger shown clear from the rutted glare of his brow, the standard softness to his face was replaced by a strict scowl. Wearing a navy button down tucked into dark jeans, and his glasses sat at the tip of his small bulb nose.

  By the stunned expression on London’s face, Marbell could tell the twenty-one-year-old was more than surprised to see him there. “Spit it out,” Marbell shout above the music, holding an open hand at London’s mouth.

  London still had the pill on the tip of his tongue, and he could taste of slight flavor it had beginning to dissolve.

  Rocker Guy’s confusion turned into annoyance at Marbell’s sudden interruption. “Hey, man,” he yelled, “Find you own dance partner!”

  Marbell gave the stranger a dirty look, “Stay the hell away from him,” he said.

  Rocker Guy shoved Marbell then, causing him to accidentally collide with a couple behind him, but they didn’t appear bothered by it. Upon seeing Rocker Guy’s hands touch Marbell in such a defensive manner, London frowned and spit the ecstasy out, feeling a switch inside his chest flip. “Hey!” he shouted, grabbing Rocker Guy by the front of his vest, “Don’t you fucking touch him!”

  “Alright, alright!” Rocker Guy struggled out of London’s hold. When he was free, he scurried away disappearing into the mass of party-goers.

  Free of the distraction, Marbell grabbed London’s hand, pulling him along through the crowd. London didn’t know what to think at the moment. Honestly, he hadn’t expected to see the teacher there, so he wasn’t sure how to react, he just followed willingly until they were outside of Wonderland.

  The parking lot had few people in it, mostly people making out on or inside their cars, while the strident music could still be heard from outside the building. Releasing London’s hand when they were by his Fisker Karma that was stalled near the entry, Marbell said, “This is such a juvenile thing for you to be doing, right now! God, I can’t believe you would actually decide to take drugs, especially with a stranger in a nightclub, just because you’re upset over this. Did you even consider the things that guy might have done to you? He could have raped you, convinced you to go home with him and given you an STD. Or worse, he could have killed you. Do you ever think of things like that!?”

  London knew Marbell was right, but he didn’t know how to reply. Instead, he just rolled h
is eyes and turned away. “Whatever...”

  “Whatever?” Marbell forced London around again, “What are you? Twelve? Did you think I was just going to let you come out here and destroy yourself? You may think I don’t give a shit about you, but you are so far from knowing the truth.”

  London put his hands on his knees, bending over as his head began to throb insistently, the world spinning all around him, and his mouth began to water.

  Marbell stomped his foot, “Would you look at me!?”

  “I’m about to fucking puke,” London shouted at the ground, “Shut up!”

  When London couldn’t hold it in, he vomited everything onto the blacktop of the parking top, continuously regretting taking all those shots one after the other. Marbell rubbed a hand on London’s back as he stood there, making sure all of it was out before he stood upright. London rubbed his temples, squeezing his eyes shut, “I just want to go home.”

  “Get in,” Marbell opened the passenger door to his car, “I’ll take you.”

  “I can drive myself.”

  “London, you can get your car tomorrow, I’m not letting you drive drunk. Get in, now.”

  “Ugh, fine...”

  After getting the money he’d collected from his client tonight out of the glove compartment and locked all the doors, London strapped himself into the expensive vehicle and they drove off.

  He kept his eyes out the window, watching the lights of the city go by. London was just about as surprised at himself as Marbell was, disappointed in himself from having acted out this way. He hadn’t taken any kind of drug since he was nineteen, having quit both marijuana and ecstasy enable to get custody of his brother and sister the next year. No doubt nineteen-year-old London would be extremely frustrated with him.

  Fuck...

  “You might as well talk if you want to explain yourself already,” London said, resting his head on the window now.

  “No, you’re still drunk and upset,” Marbell declared, “I don’t want to talk to you when you’re like this.”

  “Then I guess we’re not talking at all.”

  “I’m free after school on Wednesday. What are you doing, then?”

  London sighed, “You know what’s starting to piss me off? Meeting on your terms. I was ready to spend time with you whenever, but we were only ever allowed to see each other when you were ready. I mean, now I know why, but still...”

  “Do you want to talk about this or not? As much as I want to reconcile this with you, show you that I was never lying when I expressed myself to you, if you really don’t want anything to do with me anymore, I will drop you off at your house and I’ll let you be done with me. But, in all honesty, I don’t want to lose you, London. I’m serious. I may have started out as your client, someone who was supposed to be part of your business, but I’m telling the truth when I say you’re the greatest aspect of my life right now.”

  Two voices fought back and forth against London. One telling him to open himself back up to Marbell, while the other was demanding that he kick the teacher to the curb.

  But I want to love him, London thought to himself. “I work Wednesday and I don’t get off till 5:30pm. We can meet somewhere after that.”

  Pulling up to London’s house, he unlocked the door and stepped out, the teacher calling him before he could close the door. “Wait, just a second?”

  London stopped but he didn’t turn around.

  Marbell said, “I didn’t back out of this for a reason. I still want this, London, whatever we had, whatever we were building, I still want it. I still want you, and I know you do, too.”

  Sucking in a chest of air to ensure he wouldn’t tear up, London shut the car door softly and started towards the house. When he turned around, he expected to find Marbell running after him to tell him something more, but when all he found was an empty driveway, he stopped keeping his hopes up and went inside.

  XI – Mine

  All day London had been prepping himself for his meeting with Marbell. He promised that he wouldn’t fall for just any excuse to win him back, but, in being completely honest with who he was and how Marbell had made him feel on those days they spent together, London did not trust himself one bit. He could feel that there was a sentiment inside him that would dwindle the moment Marbell was in his presence. There was a piece of him that grew each day that went by and he wasn’t in Marbell’s arms.

  He didn’t want to think he was the kind of person that relied on someone else’s affections just to be happy, but he couldn’t deny that Marbell had made him feel...something new, something he’d never felt before. The morning after their encounter at Wonderland last Saturday, he could hardly remember a portion of the night. All he could recall was him showing up to the club with an attitude, puking outside with an angry Marbell, and then, of course, the dejection he’d felt when the teacher hadn’t pursued him further.

  He had laid awake that whole night in disappointment and felt like a total idiot. Marbell had called him childish for being so irresponsible, and London agreed with the man on that. Drowning yourself in alcohol and mindlessness wasn’t going to solve anything. London just didn’t know how to get rid of his sorrows. It’s not like he had any experience with such anguish. Growing up, he had never been the person to get too attached to anyone at all. Bed lovers remained bed lovers and nothing more, that’s why he so easily took to the position as a profiting fuck buddy.

  Love and sex were two very different things to London, and were never associated with one another. But all of that was changing now. That mindset had gone out the window the moment London began to love how sex with Marbell felt, what it did to his mind and body. With having experienced the intimacy the teacher could provide, their relationship seemed to just be working backwards, and now it was at a halt.

  Still at the antique shop, London had a few more minutes to his shift. He was helping a customer load a three-piece set of Victorian furniture into the back of a moving truck when his cell phone buzzed in his back pocket. Surely, it was Marbell texting him a place where they could meet. Suddenly, London wondered where Marbell’s wife was today to give him so much confidence to even see him.

  Once back inside, he viewed the message.

  Marbell: Is your place after you get off work okay?

  London wouldn’t have thought meeting at his house was a consideration of Marbell’s, especially because Henry was definitely home right now, but it was a lot better than going out somewhere people could witness them if things happened to get ugly. If they started fighting, at least it wouldn’t be in front of an audience.

  He replied with a simple:Sure.

  When London was finally off, he went straight home. His shoulders ached as well as the small of his back, and he was tired. He knew it was caused from not getting enough sleep at night, but there didn’t seem to be anything he could do about that. He’d even taken a dose of medicine in hopes of it putting him to sleep, but his eyes wouldn’t be conquered by it.

  Pulling up to the house, Henry was outside with Joyce. He was sitting on the porch steps in black pants and an orange shirt with a symbol from one of the animes he watched on the front. His black hair was muddled and tucked under a beanie, shoes hugging his feet while the laces were tucked in. Joyce, on the other, was running around the yard in a fairy shirt, her red hair tied into curly pigtails. She wasn’t wearing any pants, just underwear without any shoes, either. Blowing bubbles in the middle of the yard, she’d chase them all until they popped on her nose.

  Seeing London’s car pull into the drive, Joyce lit up and ran for him when he got out. “Look, look, look,” she bounced up and down, hopping along with her brother as he neared the house. “Bubbles, London! I got bubbles.”

  “Whoa,” London smiled at his baby sister’s excitement. “That’s cool!”

  She giggled before blowing another round of bubbles and darted away after them.

  On the porch, Henry was sat with his phone in his hands, scrolling through it when London stoo
d beside him. “She wouldn’t stop begging me to bring her outside,” he said. “Now I beg you to relieve me of my duties as babysitter. A new chapter to the manga I’m reading came out today and the internet on my phone is being shitty. Can I go to my room, now? Please? Pretty, please?”

  London laughed, “I don’t think making a please prettier will ever really get you what you want.”

  Henry sucked his teeth, “Seriously?”

  “Hold on,” London smiled then, “Let me change real fast and I’ll take your shift. Make sure she stays away from the street.”

  Going inside, London put his car keys on a hook in the kitchen and went to his room. After trading out his black buttoned shirt for a white t-shirt from his dresser, he rolled the sleeves to the top of his shoulders. Running his fingers back through the top of his hair, London jumped when Henry suddenly came bursting into his room. He had Joyce under his arm like she was a sack of luggage, the little girl still blowing bubbles like she hadn’t been disturbed. “London,” Henry said, hysterical as ever, “My freaking math teacher is here!”

  London’s throat dried. Not that he wasn’t expecting the man to show up, but he hadn’t quite mentally prepared himself all the way. “I know,” London answered, “I invited him over.”

  Henry swatted a floating bubble out of his face, “What do you mean you invited him? I swear I’ve been doing better in his class. I turn everything in on time, now. Why would you want him–?” He stopped, stepping back to assess his brother. “No way. Are you dating my teacher?”

  “Technically, no,” London said, freeing Joyce from her brother’s clutches and setting her down. “Things are a lot complicated, right now.”

  “So you are dating my teacher!” Henry said anyway. “Jesus, did you two fall in love during that conference or something?”

  The doorbell rang.

  “No,” London went to the front of the house, Joyce running after him since he was on to his way back outside.

  When he opened the front door, Marbell was standing there in dark grey slacks and a red violet button down, a tie around the folded collar. “Um, hi, Mister Matthews,” Henry said from around his brother’s shoulder.