Verse - 3. Chapter 3

“Your dad’s un-fucking-believable,” Raquel shuddered. Her eyes were wide, staring deep into Evelyn’s soul, as the two sat up in Evelyn’s room. “Like, seriously… What. The. Fuck.”

Evelyn sighed, rolling her eyes slightly. “I know,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. She glanced at her TV, where the words “This Channel Has Been Blocked” floated lightly across the screen.

Raquel bit her lip, throwing the control onto the beanbag chair across from her. Three of the last seven channels she tried were blocked, including the popular music channel. “What are we? Twelve?”

“You might as well be,” Evelyn muttered, giggling lightly.

Raquel smiled back, throwing a pillow at her friend. The two had slept on the floor, or so the array of blankets and stuffed animals scattered around them suggested. The morning light was breaking through the white curtains, illuminating the pink and white room. It was heavily decorated; stuffed animals and other trinkets were lined neatly on the wooden shelves—with more of the previous sitting above the pillow on Evelyn’s queen-sized bed. The carpet was white, and had managed to remain such, over the long years.

“Not cool,” Raquel laughed.

Evelyn shrugged, leaning back into her own beanbag chair. “Sorry, Raquel. You know how, protective my dad is.”

“Ridiculously, apparently.”

“Yeah…”

Raquel sighed, sitting up and leaning towards her friend. “Next time, we’re sleeping at my place.”

Evelyn broke into a laugh immediately, her legs kicking excitedly in front of her. “As if my dad would allow that! He knows you.”

“That’s not cool either,” Raquel pouted.

“ I’m joking!” Evelyn shouted defensively.

Raquel smiled, letting out another sigh. “Wanna get out? Pretty sure Soren wouldn’t mind hanging with us.”

“My dad mi—“

“Sic Gran-gran on him! Lord knows the one with the pussy runs the place.”

Evelyn flustered, managing a short nod.

“You listen to your dad too much,” Raquel mumbled. “It’s probably why he’s so… weird.”

Evelyn shrugged again, slumping further into her seat in the process. “You don’t listen to yours enough.”

“And I never will! That fucker’s not home enough to earn my respect.”

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the two, broken seconds later by a heavy knock on the door, accompanied by a voice Evelyn knew too well, “Honey? Are you up yet? Breakfast is ready.”

The two girls sighed, reaching their feet simultaneously. They were in the baggiest of clothes, a fact which Evelyn knew her father would disapprove of. Nonetheless, at Raquel’s beckoning, the two headed out the bedroom door.

~.~.~.~

Soren turned, crossing the thin gap that sat between the concrete sidewalk and his family’s front yard. In front of him, several meters from the street, towered his two-story home, sitting silently beneath the bright afternoon sun, the few decorative trees that flanked it swaying slightly in the cool breeze.

His house was one of many in his suburban neighborhood, each painted a bright color—his a light blue—on the outside, and coated in a variety of papers and planks and tiles on the inside. Though each the same design—the result of modern mass production construction techniques—they managed to stand out from one another with their lawns. The Lager Family’s was lightly decorated, with only a well-mowed lively lawn, a couple trees dotting the yard, and a line of flower bushes against the house itself; nothing too extravagant, though it fit the Lager Family well.

Soren’s father, Eric Lager, was leaning over the family sedan, the open hood rising above his head as his arms struggled with the engine. As usual, Soren first noticed how young his father seemed; he was fit, with a trim body that no doubt had its share of ripped muscles. The man’s blond hair was still a soft gold and his eyes as bright as they were thirty years ago, always looking towards the future with excitement.

It was a trait they shared, both were aware.

“Hey dad,” Soren began, his feet scratching the floor as he moved to his dad’s side, “you’re up early. Didn’t think you’d be up until past noon.”

Eric chuckled, straightening his back and brushing his blackened hands on his jeans, before stretching them into the air. “I didn’t either,” he replied, smiling smugly. “Your mother kicked the lads out early, though; poor woman wanted us to play.”

There was a moment’s delay, before his father’s words struck home and Soren reeled back, his cheeks flustering brightly. “Dammit, dad! I don’t wanna know this stuff!”

His father chuckled again, well-expecting that response from his teenage son. “Come on, Soren!” he exclaimed excitedly, patting his son’s shoulder. “I know you know everyone has sex—hell, even you, I’m sure.”

Somehow, Soren’s face reddened further, and his steady silence brought more laughter from his father. “How was your night, sport?” the man questioned, noticing the slight glow about his son’s face—a glow he himself had been well-acquainted with, at that age.

Soren snickered, diverting his eyes and dodging beneath his father’s hand; it was getting heavy. “What do you need my help with anyway?”

Shrugging, Erick turned back to the vehicle. “This bastard thing stopped working Wednesday. I’ve no idea what the hell is wrong with it; it won’t turn on at all.”

“Maybe the battery’s dead?” Soren questioned, indifferent.

“No,” Eric returned. “I checked that already; didn’t start even with a boost.”

“I don’t know anything about cars, dad,” Soren whispered.

“And I don’t know anything about the ‘net. SO, while I fight this damned contraption, you search up things I needa know with that fancy phone of yours.”

Silently, Soren brought out his phone; it was a touchscreen, one of the year’s newer models by a popular company. He’d spent months begging his mother for it, and his parents finally bought it a couple weeks ago… At the same time they’d finished paying off the house, finally.

“Why don’t we just buy a new car?” he asked, staring quietly at the expensive-device in his hand.

“We don’t have the money, Soren,” his father answered, diving back into the vehicle. “Your aunt asked us for a loan last week; something about your cousin needing another operation.”

“Another one? Didn’t he have one just last week?”

“She, Soren,” Eric replied. “They’ll finish that mess this coming operation.”

Soren raised an eyebrow, his eyes fixed on his father’s broad back. “Serious? They went through with that?”

“Yup,” his father answered. “Problem?”

“No,” Soren returned, after a moment. “Kind of strange, though.”

Eric shrugged neutrally, still buried in the vehicle; he honestly had no idea what he was doing in there. “People do what people do,” he answered. “Your aunt and uncle aren’t any less proud of their kid, just like I’m no less proud of you.”

Soren nodded slowly, easing back to sit on the grass beside the concrete driveway. “I’m glad, dad. Thanks.”

“No problem, kiddo.”

Soren’s phone vibrated in his hand, startling the boy before he managed to silence it. “How long is this gonna take?” he asked, reading off the screen.

“No idea,” his father replied. “Why?”

“Evelyn and Raquel want to eat out.”

His father shrugged. “Go for it; pretty sure I can take on this dumb ol’ thing alone.” Eric didn’t see his son nod and run off into the house; instead, he heard the door slam shut excitedly and rolled his eyes in response.

He rolled them again as the door slid open almost an hour later, and turned to see his son walk out of their home. The boy was dressed in faded-blue jeans and a royal-blue Jacket, the words “Prized Co.” sewed onto the chest, split by the zipper just after the ‘z’. A white beanie covered his head, keeping the messy golden beast beneath it at bay. A wide grin was spread across the boy’s face, which his deep blue eyes strongly complemented.

“Someone’s trying hard,” Eric said, scoffing playfully as his son approached him.

Soren blushed, though immediately rolled his eyes. “I like to look presentable, dad, unlike you,” he smirked, as his father studied himself, coated in oil and dirt.

“Be indoors by curfew,” the man said, snickering lightly. “Is Cody going?”

“No,” Soren answered, frowning slightly. “Got tied to his little siblings today… I hope to pop by the park after lunch though, if that’s fine.”

His father nodded, “Yeah, that’s fine. Stay out of trouble, though.”

Soren giggled, smiling. “Are his parents coming over tonight?”

“No,” Erick answered. “His dad postponed the barbeque… again.”

“Oh… Alright.”

“Be safe out there, sport.”

Soren nodded and, dismissed, trudged off down the street, leaving his father to stare aimlessly at the dead vehicle. The growing black liquid that was quickly spreading from beneath the vehicle almost convinced the man to hire a mechanic.

Almost.

~.~.~.~

Luka sat up on his bed, his legs crossed beneath him, as he counted the money that lay scattered on and around his body. Mark had left almost ten minutes earlier, a little past two fifteen. Though he enjoyed sex with the man, Luka sometimes wondered if that was all Mark wanted from him, or if they were both struggling with suppressed passions… their sex was rather passionate, he thought.

Though, the two-hundred dollars he counted suggested otherwise. At least he was taken care of….

The boy smiled bitterly as he threw the money back onto his bed and jumped to his feet. He was still nude, Mark’s touch—along with other aspects of the man—still fresh on his skin.

He cleared his throat, locking the room door before heading towards his closet. His mother would arrive at four—and ask him an endless stream of questions about his studies—and he just hated being sober around her. It wasn’t the embarrassment—despite their hours-long romps, they still got lessons done—lessons Luka often easily understood. It was awkward more due to their situation, at the mercy of their father, the broken state they lived in.

Sighing, Luka threw the shoebox onto his bed. Within moments, he’d prepared himself a sizable treat, and had the fan operating on blowing the air out the open window. It wasn’t long afterwards he was on his back, his naked skin tingling at the carpet’s scratchy touch. He lay there for a while, staring at the spinning fan, wondering what lay beyond.

He stood up suddenly at some point, he himself unsure how long it’d been. Mark’s lunch still sat on his nightstand, the spiked bottle still over half-full. A giant grin spread across his face, as he realized his day wasn’t over. Mark didn’t give him much of it—it would be bad if he got addicted to it—though he enjoyed every bit when the man did bring some over, once every few months.

Luka wiped his body with a spare shirt and threw it back onto the pile spread across the floor, making a mental note to bother to wash it all at some point; a good part of the mess was tainted. He dropped the bottle into a nearby backpack, stuffed a twenty into his pocket, throwing the rest of the money into a drawer in his nightstand, before getting dressed in the morning’s clothes, grabbing his keys and his phone, and heading out the door. Locking his door, he ducked into the bathroom; he’d at least wash his face, before facing the world.

Ten minutes later, he was out the front door, walking down the street, the sun matching his bright mood, wondering just who to share the drink with—whether he’d finally the guts to make a move on Soren, or whether he’d find his usual contacts on the streets.

His subconscious made the decision for him, as he moved in the opposite direction of Soren, towards the darker parts of town. He had several contacts he could play with, some of whom paid excellent money. The drug would help him survive through those, but he felt he wanted a softer touch. He frowned at the decision; he wanted a warm touch, though didn’t want to waste the high where it wasn’t necessary. At the end, he scowled and pulled out his phone. It was a recent model, thin, sleek, and a touch-screen; he’d bought it himself—just like the service. His list of contacts was long, indeed, though his number of messages suggested he didn’t text quite often.

“Hey,” he began, after the ringing had ended.

“Luka!” a man’s voice came through. “How are you, buddy?”

“I’m stoned and on something better,” Luka said plainly, “and want a quick fuck. You down?”

The man seemed taken aback. “Um, sure. How much?”

“The usual,” the boy answered, “hundred, full.”

The voice was silent for a few moments, though there was some light jabbering in the background. “I got a friend over, you willing?”

“Is he cute?” Luka asked after a second. “Hot?”

“He’s pretty cute,” the man answered, clearly entertained.

“Add another hundred, then,” Luka said with a smirk.

The man chuckled, “Alright, alright. You know where to find us.”

Luka nodded, an empty gesture, before whispering a farewell and ending the call, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. With a sly smile pursing his lips, Luka turned another corner and crossed another street.

~.~.~.~

“Heyya, ladies,” Soren said suavely, walking up to Evelyn and Raquel. The two girls were sitting beside one another, rolling their eyes in unison at the boy’s approach.

“Heyya, smooth guy,” Raquel answered, the three engulfing one another in an awkward, table-challenged hug. “How was last night?” Raquel asked with a wink, as Soren took a seat across from her.

“It was exciting,” Soren said, blushing slightly, though beaming brightly.

The two girls giggled, Evelyn shouting, “Oh my gosh, Soren! Have you no decency?”

“Nope,” Soren answered smugly. “I’m damn proud of what I do!”

“Oh Lord,” Raquel returned, rolling her eyes. She was quiet for a few moments, before suddenly reaching out and grabbing Soren’s arm, her eyes wide in a look of apprehension. “Is Cody big?” she asked in a whisper.

Soren turned redder, though his color soon stabilized as he broke into a giggle. “Oh my gosh, yes!” he burst, flying back into the cushioned seat. “It always hurts like hell when he puts it in.”

“Soren!” Evelyn exclaimed. “Don’t tell us!”

“No!” Raquel countered. “Tell us more! Tell us everything!”

Soren grinned widely; “Well, what do you wanna know?”

Evelyn flustered herself, giggling excitedly despite it. “Oh my gosh; don’t!”

Raquel shared Soren’s excited face as she quickly pulled Evelyn closer and tightened a hand over the girl’s lips. “Who, like, does the most?” she asked excited.

Soren bit his lower lip, resisting the urge to smile like a giddily fool. “I did, yesterday anyway.”

“Oh my gosh!” Raquel shouted amidst laughter. “So you, like, went wild on the guy?”

“Something like that,” Soren answered, smirking, blushing. “He just lay there at first, telling me to do whatever I wanted.”

What’d you do?” Raquel demanded. In her arms, Evelyn was split between laughter and overwhelming embarrassment; she’d stopped resisting, however, and was listening intently.

“Gave him the time of his life, of course,” Soren answered ecstatically.

The two girls broke into laughter, and it was then the waitress approached them. She was a young girl, almost their age. It was clear she heard their conversation—it was hard not to, really—as her face was a soft red and her eyes dodged Soren’s. “Welcome to Max’s Diner,” she said sheepishly. “May I take your order?”

An hour later, the three strolled out of the restaurant, laughing excitedly. Soren glanced at his watch; it was still early in the afternoon. “How ‘bout the park?” Soren asked, looking at Raquel. “Cody’s probably there with his brother and sister.”

“I’ve wanted to see little Cody for a while now,” Raquel replied with a nod. “Ev?”

Evelyn shrugged. “Gran-gran promised to keep my father off me today. Sure, I’ll go.”

“Cool,” Soren said with a grin, leading the way. “Pretty sure Cody will be relieved when we show up.”

“Also excited,” Raquel added, grinning wickedly. “Maybe in more than one way.” She ignored both her friend’s fluster, adding, “Have you ever considered doing it in public?”

Soren nearly tripped. “What? No! That’s dirty!”

“I didn’t mean where everyone could see you!” Raquel exclaimed. “Maybe behind some bushes—in the restroom!”

Giggling, Soren answered, “No! Gosh no! That’s still weird!”

“What if Cody wanted it?” Raquel asked slyly.

Soren looked away from her, noticing Evelyn’s bright face. “Maybe,” he muttered.

“Oh my Lord!” Raquel shouted, taking the lead, “I’m so going to tell him!”

~.~.~.~

“You didn’t mention there would be three of you,” Luka said in a whisper, his eyes quickly taking in the room around him. It was bare, only decorated with the necessities. Nothing that could really be used as a weapon, though he did have his bag for that.

The three guys studied him, as he returned their scrutiny. In the center of the room was Jase, one of his more recurring partners and also the man he’d called. The other two were strangers, one a small feminine lad—likely still a bit older than he—the other, though…

Luka smiled, nodding towards the brute that blocked the door. The young man was coated in muscles, enough of them to make tackling him a frightening thought. He looked back towards Jase, who was smirking confidently, the feminine boy at his side.

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” Jase replied, shrugging lightly. “We both know what a little whore you are.”

Luka twitched, and came out of it with his own cocky grin. “This little whore has a price,” he answered. “A price he isn’t sure you lot can pay.”

“We could take you for free,” Jase blasted back.

“That would earn you twenty-years of being taken yourself, Jase,” Luka returned calmly. “Even common criminals have morals.”

Jase snickered, though looked at the bigger man. Muscles returned a shrug as Luka looked on, indifferent. “How much?” Jase questioned.

“Three-hundred,” Luka returned. “And that’s really being generous, here.”

“Fine,” Jase grunted. “You said you had something on you?”

Luka pulled the bottle from his backpack and threw it at Jase. “I hope it’ll be empty when I get home tonight.”

Jase’s good mood returned, a grin spreading across his face; he knew what Luka was on, having ran into him in such a condition before. “I was hoping you’d share with our friend here,” he said, gesturing to the feminine guy. The lad flustered and stepped back slightly.

“Only if I get a turn,” Luka returned, raising an eye-brow. The guy was cute, he thought, and if he was gonna be such a squirmer….

“Aiight,” Jase said, returning the bottle. Luka quickly took a drink, before handing it to the other fellow.

“Got any grass?” Luka asked, wiping his mouth dry. He took the bottle back a moment later, stuffing it back into his bag. It still had a little left; maybe he would get to play with his more generous patrons.

“We were about to smoke when you called,” Jase replied. “Come on.” Luka followed Jase deeper into the house, keeping his bag close until they’d arrived in the basement, where he dropped it by the stairs. “If you want some though,” Jase gleamed, “you’re gonna have to get on your knees.”

Luka smirked, getting on all fours and crawling to Jase, who had taken a seat on a couch, the treat in hand.

He left an hour later, content with the adventure, but still craving more as he stuffed the money into his pocket. His hand brushed against his member, a feeling that sent a tingle running through his body, and had him wishing he wasn’t on the open streets. It had been quite fun, back in Jase’s apartment; he’d never entered anyone before, and never thought his first would be someone older than him. The feeling was absolutely amazing, though he wasn’t if it was that powerful, or if it was the drugs talking. Nonetheless, he wanted more, and didn’t exactly care with whom.

“Hello?” he stated into his phone. “Robert?”

“Luka?” the reply came. It was someone far older. “What can I do for you today?” the man asked suavely.

Luka smiled into the setting sun—it was nearly six. “No,” he returned, “it’s more like ‘what can you do for me today?’”

“Oh?” the voice asked. “Someone’s rather eager. How much?”

“Two. I plan to ravage you tonight. I’ve got some… motivationals.”

The man across the line smirked. “Very well. Where are you, so I can pick you up?”

Thirty minutes later, Luka was sitting in a car, his body arched over, and his head resting over the groin of a man nearly three time his age. The vehicle was parked in an isolated area just outside town, giving the man the freedom to moan audibly. It was quite a few seconds before Luka’s head withdrew, his throat jumping as he swallowed and wiped his lips clean.

“Outside or in?” he asked softly. His lips still had a slight glister to them, and he licked them again, enjoying the salty taste.

“Out,” the man replied. “I don’t want to taint my car.”

Luka blinked silently, managing a nod before finishing off the spiked drink. He jumped out of the vehicle afterwards, and into the waiting arms of a rather hungry man.

Guilt? Regret? He couldn’t quite place the uncomfortable feelings that dominated his mind, as Robert dominated his body. In the end, the sheer ecstasy coursing through his body made it trivial.