Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ How to Save a Life ❯ How It Is: Room21 ( Chapter 7 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

I would like to thank my roleplay partner Kipcha, who plays Garrett's character and wrote the totally awesome first and third scenes of this chapter. If you like those scenes, be sure to thank her.

Warnings: I think I might have to raise the rating of this fic to M, because of this chapter. There's nothing extremely sexual about it... but I'm still a little worried.

Please enjoy the chapter! I really like this one...

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I stumbled up the stairs to room 21.
-- Hinder (Room 21)
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The city welcomed Garrett Sullivan with open arms.

Brimming nightlife and the sudden free, untamed rapture of not having his spouse-to-be breathing down his neck took over the twenty-six-year-old. His fiancé was out of town for the week, visiting family - which meant that Garrett was granted a full seven days of freedom.

A full seven days to do something he always secretly wanted to, but was never actually courageous to go through with until that very night.

And that one deep desire was to get piss drunk and have a one-night stand.

He was dressed for such an occasion, too. Tight black pants snaked down his shapely, skinny legs. A black leather jacket billowed in the winter breeze, unzipped to reveal a low cut shirt - that, too, black. It was all topped off with a studded belt and loose gray tie, giving him a sexy, sort of `I could care less' look that could drive anyone - male or female - wild.

Dark eye makeup surrounded emerald orbs, making him appear more hardcore than he was in actuality.

Only one thing adorned his person that really should not have been there, considering where he was currently headed, and that was his engagement ring. It curled around his pale finger possessively, unable to budge from the bony finger of its chosen owner. But showing his devotion to another was something Garrett didn't really feel weird about, especially if he was just going to have sex with a stranger he was likely never to see after this night.

His destination: An upscale dance club? A sport's bar? Nope - even better than both of those combined. Garrett had his destination decided as soon as he found out his significant other was leaving for a week.

Sure it was disloyal, but what his fiancé didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

The location for Garrett's long anticipated party night was a mediocre bar and strip joint. He and his boyfriend had gone once and got completely smashed, of course screwing like bunnies after they got home.

But this time around, Garrett wanted something new - something different, exciting.

He wanted a whore.

Just for one night. He wanted to see what it was like, the thrill of disobedience and disloyalty. Being stuck on an invisible leash to another, especially for almost five years (It would be their five year anniversary of dating in another month), grew boring and tiresome to Garrett at times. Sure, the sex was terrific, and he loved his boyfriend so, so deeply… But regardless of all that, he still had the desire to be with someone else - someone who was not expecting commitment or anything long-term. Just for one night.

And his feet led him up the stairs and into a club by the name ofRoom21, located in the less prominent area of the city. It wasn't run down or anything of that nature, though it could use a good cleaning up. It was just... average, for lack of a better word.

He entered the doors and was greeted by pounding techno rhythms. At least ninety or so people crowded the dance floor, surprisingly not taking up that much space. Others swarmed the bar or gathered by the stage, watching, mesmerized by the erotic movements of the paid club dancers and strip teasers, in cages suspended on the ceiling, or on long poles that came down from it.

Garrett's lips parted and he muttered something inaudible before being shoved aside by a crowd of rowdy girls. He ignored them and headed over to the bar by the stage, somehow locating an empty barstool.

“Hey sexy, what can I getcha tonight?” a tacky looking girl asked, wearing a transparent shirt that easily showed her `goods' to the indifferent gay man. He looked at the small drink menu and sighed.

“I guess an Orange Cosmo on the rocks.” He replied. The girl jotted something down on a slip of paper and said she'd be back with his order in about ten minutes; they were busy, after all.

Sighing again, Garrett nodded and swung around on his barstool to get a look at the stage, which was occupied only by scantily clad women (all appearing older than himself) moving suggestively against one another to the pleasure of the drooling middle-aged men below.

Emerald orbs narrowed in distaste.

This was not nearly as fun as he thought it would be.

The redhead looked around some more, expecting too much to be disappointed this quickly.

He did a double take as something caught his eye.

There he was. His fluid movements immediately magnetized the previously uninterested redhead, drawing him into a trance-like state which rendered him unable to do even the simplest of actions, such as blinking.

The young male's body was curvy - curvier than that of an average man's. His legs were sinewy, and his chest free of blemishes, and other, more private body parts were suggestively revealed thanks to the exotic, custom-made costume barely covering his lean form. A long, untamed mane of wild silver hair shined like the midnight moon, literally glowing in the black lights scattered around the dance floor and stage. His skin was smooth and pale, glistening with a thin veil of sweat and body glitter.

Garrett's jaw dropped at the sight.

This dancer was gorgeous.

He only had a few people crowded around his area of the stage, and they were mostly squealing girls and a few young men who were quickly running out of money after throwing it all on the platform on top of which the entertainer performed.

His movements were so rhythmic to the booming electronic music, and Garrett couldn't help but arch his neck to get a better view. A few pieces of jewelry decorated the beautiful individual, including a silver chocker, an anklet, and earring hooked in his right ear. The redhead didn't dare blink, fearing that missing a single movement of the one before him would deny him access to seeing him at all.

Someone took occupation in the seat beside him. A voice spoke smoothly to him, but the redhead hardly noticed - for he could focus on nothing other than the vision of white upon the stage. All he knew was that it was definitely a male speaking to him in a rather derogatory tone.

Agitated at having his visual fantasy disrupted, Garret may or may not have responded in a snide voice - disagreeing with what the man had said or making a bet, or something else along those lines. Whatever he said caused the man to fall silent. The waitress appeared, holding a glass in her hand which she set upon the counter after her arrival.

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And she left me craving more.
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Alexander Tetsuo was what most would refer to as "new money". His father had struck it rich in the stockholding game and, when the bastard croaked, left all of his acquired millions to his only son (aged twenty-two at the time). Since then, Alexander - or Xander, as he preferred to be called - enjoyed the lifestyle of the rich and famous - splurging his inheritance on mansions, sports cars, vacations, and other such things. But he was a good man deep down. Self-indulgent and egotistical, but a good man deep down.

Afforded with his French mother's charming good looks, Xander was oftentimes considered a god amongst mere mortals, and a blessing to women. With his sleek blonde hair, piercing light blue eyes and handsomely masculine build, Xander had the appearance to melt the heart of any girl he wanted.

But he didn't want just any girl.

Like everything else he possessed, he desired the best. Only the best - both attractive and personality -wise - would make a suitable spouse for this stubborn man.

He'd tried dating the upper-class women, who had enough money to make themselves beautiful. But they lacked personalities, and so were each tossed in a matter of days. The middle-class girls were plain in both aspects. The poor were lively, but so hideous that he refused to consider marrying one even as a charity case to boost his image.

No. None of the girls in London tickled his fancy. In fact, no girl in his life had ever remotely caught his interest. Sure, there were women he considered beautiful. But he never experienced any sort of real attraction when in the presence of members of the opposite sex.

So he moved on, in search of something new. Something exciting. His journeys took him away from London, to a smaller city where there existed one of his summer homes. By this time he was already thirty and his body begged for a physical connection with another human being. In his desperation he found himself seated in a corner booth of a remote bar and strip club, with half-naked men and women viewable from every angle.

On stage two girls danced erotically, flashing private parts of their bodies to the salivating row of customers before them.

Xander turned away from the show, uninterested in cheap classless whores, and noticed he was no longer alone in the booth.

Situated directly across from him was a lean, pale-skinned figure donned in the revealing uniform custom to each of the waiters. Xander could only tell it was a male due to the lack of breasts on the other's plainly viewable chest.

While the newcomer was silent, Xander took the opportunity to allow his eyes roam across the delectable body - starting from the chest, taking in how the skin was so colorless that it almost glowed, and noticing how soft in texture in appeared. Next he moved up to the boy's swan-like neck, feeling a strange desire to bite into it as he observed the young man's Adam's Apple bob with a swallow.

The boy's face was cherubic-like inhis innocence - Xander had to wonder what such an angelic face was doing in a hellhole like this place -with big chocolate eyes and long dark lashes that caressed his round, rose-tinted cheeks every time he blinked.

The boy's thin, glossy lips parted as he finally turned his attention on Xander, giving a promising smile.

"You're not having very much fun," he detected in a voice rather feminine for a man. His hand moved to cover the older man's larger, darker hand. "Would you like me to show you a good time?"

Xander's eyes widened as it occurred to him that the angelic youth before him was, in actuality, a prostitute.

Prostitute or not, there was something in Ryou's - the boy's name, as he later learned - smile that caused Xander to accept the invitation. And even though Ryou had taken to him as a customer, Xander could never in his mind equate Ryou - beatific Ryou with his colorless splendor and gentle persona - with the other cheap, classless whores he'd seen in the bar. Ryou was different, special. There was something buried deep in those mocha orbs that told he didn't want to be there, living that life; that he needed to be saved from that lifestyle.

And as the years passed - and he was thirty-four and Ryou twenty-seven - Xander decided he would be the one to save Ryou. He thoroughly convinced himself Ryou was a damsel in distress, and he was Ryou's night in shining armor - sent to rescue the beautiful boy from his sorry life of prostitution and poverty.

Gradually over time, the two had become very close. On evenings when Ryou was not working, they typically went out for dinner, and Xander usually paid for both of their meals unless Ryou put up a fight. Oftentimes they went to lunch or the movies, and they were open to each other with just about everything. Ryou told him secrets, confided in him about things he never told anyone else and in turn Xander was rather honest with Ryou.

Same-sex marriages were legal nowadays, and for the past few months, Xander had been debating when and how to propose to Ryou. He had to marry Ryou. There was no one else in the world he would even consider as a possible candidate for his future spouse. Ryou was perfect - beautiful, intelligent, submissive... just perfect.

He would ask Ryou to marry him, somehow, and he knew already that Ryou would readily agree. After all, there was no way the whitenette wished to remain a prostitute the rest of his life. Xander could offer him everything he ever wanted - love, money, fame. All Ryou had to do in return was be loyal to him, and only him. Ryou would never disagree to his proposal.

Room21 was rather crowded that evening, more so than usual. Pushing through the throng of sweating, scantily clad club-goers, Xander made his way over to his usual booth to watch Ryou dance.

The silver-haired angel was already on stage, performing with his dance partner Vivian. Xander ordered a beer and turned back to the show, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and following Ryou's sinuous movements with half-lidded blue eyes. Sitting at the stool directly across from his booth, a man with outlandish red hair gawked openly at the stage.

Taking a sip of his beer, Xander pulled himself to his feet and walked over to the bar to take a seat at the empty seat beside the redhead. The man didn't even turn to look at him, so absorbed was he in watching the dancer.

“He's beautiful, isn't he?” Xander spoke first, indicating Ryou.

The red-haired man seemed reluctant to pull his eyes away from the stage but he did, just so as not to come across as a complete jerk. “Yeah,” he said absentmindedly, focusing on the dancing once again, though he continued to talk to the other man. “What I wouldn't give to get into those pants...”

Xander's eyes narrowed as he took another swig of beer. “He's too good for you. You could never afford him.”

The man faced him briefly before snorting. A devilish smirk appeared on his pale face. “Wanna bet?” he asked.

Before Xander could answer, a busty waitress came over and handed the man a drink. To Xander's vexation, the redhead immediately inquired about Ryou. The blonde tuned him out, fixating his eyes on his love. Ryou continued to manipulate his body to the rhythm of the music, swaying his hips gracefully and tossing his head back and licking his lips suggestively.

“That's almost twenty-five hundred for twenty-four hours...”

Xander's head shot up, his stupor broken, and glared over at the redheaded man. For a moment, the other male caught his gaze and sent him a superior smirk.

“Sure, if you're that horny and rich...” the barista commented.

“Which I am.”

Xander fell into a brooding silence and stood from the bar, storming back over to his booth. The man couldn't possibly request Ryou for an entire day. Ryou would never agree to that.

For six songs Ryou danced, his body glistening under the flashing lights with sweat and glitter. His long, silky hair fanned about his head like an angel's halo as he moved. When his time ended, he winked at the small gathered audience and turned to go backstage.

“Wait—Ryou!” a voice called, stopping the dancer in his tracks.

Xander stood quickly, eyes narrowing as he noticed the same redhead he had been conversing with at the bar now hovering by the ledge of the stage, his emerald eyes wide and eager as he called out to Ryou.

“I want you!”

Xander felt the usual pang of jealousy in his chest as he moved closer to the stage, close enough to hear the conversation with the two. This always happened whenever Ryou picked up a new customer. Xander detested, absolutely detested, Ryou's profession. Now that he planned on marrying the whitenette, he despised the fact that Ryou's being a prostitute meant that other men besides himself were afforded the pleasure of sleeping with him. It made his blood boil, just the thought of Ryou looking at another man.

Ryou disappeared behind the stage, the red-haired man following shortly afterwards.

Xander couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe Ryou actually agreed to spend a whole day as someone's whore. Ryou had never done that; usually three hours was the unspoken time limit the whitenette never went over.

...And on top of that, this was supposed to be Xander's night with Ryou. Tuesday evenings were reserved, for Xander always treated the white-haired man to dinner before.

The blonde-haired man slowly dropped back to a seated position, feeling strangely numb. He hated not being able to stop Ryou from seeing clients. It wasn't as if Ryou was committed to him yet; Ryou was still employed atRoom21, and so was expected to go through with the duties required of him.

Xander took his time with finishing off his beer, mind plagued by thoughts of Ryou and the red-haired man. He was too frustrated to even pay attention to any of the other dancers on stage - not that he really wanted to; they were nothing compared to the spectacle of Ryou.

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I swear to God you'd feel the same if you got used by what's-her-name.
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“Here's your drink; it came sooner than I thought.” The girl giggled at Garrett, whose back was towards her.

“That one,” Garrett said suddenly, speaking over the music, paying no attention to the arrival of his drink. “What's that one's name?” He never took his eyes away from the sexy dancer.

“Hmm..? That's Vivian.”

“No. The boy,” He growled.

“The one with the silver hair? Oh, he's Ryou.”

Garrett still didn't turn to look at the girl. He inquired, almost hesitantly, “Is he... is he, you know, available?”

The girl blinked. “You mean...?” her voice trailed off, and one could tell she was a little uncomfortable about saying the word `whore', even if it was Ryou's profession.

Garrett caught onto the fact and spared her the mortification of saying the word. “Yes,” he replied quickly.

“His shift ends at eleven, but he usually doesn't stay that long after - usually he's requested beforehand, while he's waiting tables. If you can get to him fast you might get him tonight, if he doesn't already have a customer.”

“He must be popular.”

“Oh... yes, he is. Very popular. He's not cheap, though,” she warned, shaking her head.

“He doesn't look cheap. How much..?”

“Hmm... about a hundred and three pounds an hour.”

At this Garrett gaped, turning to the girl. “What? One hundred and three pounds?”

The waitress nodded. “But that's for everything. You have him for whatever actions you want for one hour. He'll do anything you want. Really, he's a gay man's dream come true,” she snorted, rolling her eyes.

Garrett licked his lips in anticipation at the saying, sipping his strong alcoholic drink afterwards. A full hour with that gorgeous young male… Anything Garrett wanted. After feeling dizzy with so many possibilities, he turned back to the girl.

“One hundred and three for one hour…” he thought for a moment, doing the math as a sudden idea hit him. “That's almost twenty-five hundred for twenty-four hours.”

The woman's eyes widened considerably. “Sure, if you're that horny and rich.”

“Which I am,” he immediately replied, “And which I'm going to do. I'll pay any amount to have Ryou for a full day. Twenty-four hours. I can do that, correct?”

The girl thought for a moment. “As long as you pay him, I guess there isn't any rule saying you can't.”

Garrett took a foolishly large sip of his drink in celebration of the good news, letting out a satisfied sigh afterwards.

“I'll take him.”

Garrett looked at his watch. 10:55. Five minutes. Five minutes and he will have that man, that luscious Ryou for twenty-four full hours... That pale-skinned bohemian writhing and moaning in his grasp... Those two thin pink lips against his, and most likely around something else.

By this point he was severely aroused and wishing for some way to offer the ache relief.

Five minutes and I will have that something... he smirked, turning back to the stage to watch his prize. The movements never ceased to send electrical sensations down his body, collecting at one source that was ready to explode. He licked his lips again.

“Ryou...” He mouthed silently.

Ryou, Ryou, Ryou, Ryou. Garrett's fiancé was a nameless face of the past now, long forgotten. If only his boyfriend would dance like that for him… or let Garrett be the dominant one, just once. That was another reason why he wanted this night.

Only a select few times did he ever get to be the dominant one during sex. Garrett loved being the submissive one, but being the dominant wasn't so bad either, and lately it was something he craved.

And being the alpha male to this one… this Ryou was definitely going to be miles away from bad.

The music of the song slowly faded and Garrett downed his drink foolishly, knowing that was his cue. He had to get to Ryou fast. He stumbled out of his seat after slapping a ten-dollar bill on the bar for his drink and pushed roughly through a crowd of people. His eyes never left Ryou, though the silver-haired wonder's movements had faded with the music.

Eventually Ryou stopped altogether and winked at the crowd below him before turning to go backstage.

“Wait— Ryou!” Garrett's desperate voice called as he staggered to the front of the stage.

The slender male stopped and turned, doe-brown eyes blinking curiously. He was silent for a moment, waiting for the one who called him to speak up.

“I want you.” Garrett started, looking up at the barely-clothed dancer.

Thin pink lips belonging to that dancer curled into an amused smile. “I've heard that one before,” he said, giggling lightly afterwards.

Garrett felt his face flush at the first hearing of Ryou's voice. So soft… so, so innocent! He couldn't believe this was the voice of a prostitute...

“I have twenty-five hundred pounds for you - for tonight and tomorrow, with me.”

Almost ridiculing brown eyes widened. He stepped forward. “...Really now?” he asked, interest piqued. Twin mocha orbs studied the man on the floor below, taking in his appearance. He was an attractive man; actually, the redhead was even better looking than attractive. Based solely on his looks, Ryou decided he wouldn't mind, after doing the math, spending twenty-four hours with him.

Especially with that kind of pay...

The whitenette made a gesture to the back of the stage. “Meet me back there.” he said, turning on his heel. “Third room to the right. I'll be waiting.”

Garrett nodded, never taking his eyes off Ryou's body. He almost tripped on his own feet as he walked away from the stage with his eyes still glued ahead of him.

Third door to the right; third door to the right... He chanted silently, walking down the hall backstage. He stopped at that door labeled `Ryou' on a slip of purple paper.

Finding it a rather small sign for such a big star, the green eyed man scowled and knocked on the door. “It's me.”

There was silence. Then: “...Who? Oh— You. That's right. Come in.” the soft, velvety voice answered.

Almost beating the door down, Garrett charged in and closed the door behind him.

Ryou giggled, bringing one hand to delicately cover his mouth.

“What's your name?” he asked, approaching the other with catlike grace.

Garrett raked his eyes up and down Ryou's glimmering body. They weren't underneath the distracting flashing lights of the stage floor anymore. In the brightly illuminated dressing room he was permitted a full view of Ryou, and he was not disappointed.

“...Your name?” Ryou repeated after several moments of being observed like a meal.

Garrett glanced up from where his eyes were transfixed between the other's legs and blinked. “Garrett.”

A toothy smile appeared on Ryou's already glimmering features. “I like that name. Garrett,” he repeated. “So... you tell me you have twenty-five hundred pounds?”

“For you,” he replied, “with me.”

“Of course... One full day.”

“Yes.”

“That's quite a bit of money.”

“Eh, pocket change, really,” the redhead boasted.

Ryou giggled again in an obvious attempt of sucking up to his wealthy customer.“...Well, I accept.”

Garrett blinked again, his mind on fire.

Score! he thought to himself, trying not to jump up and down in anticipation.

“Great!” he blurted, taking Ryou's pale hands in his own. He ran his thumb gently across the baby-soft skin. “Are you always this soft...?” he couldn't help but ask, wondering in the back of his mind how old Ryou was, for the petite male did not look a day over eighteen.

Ryou blushed, not accustomed to being afforded such a strange compliment, before smiling.

“Maybe,” he replied modestly, enjoying the warm tenderness displayed by the handsome male before him. “Are you always this gentle?”

He looked up and locked eyes with Garrett, whose heart skipped a beat.

“Come with me and you'll find out,” the redhead replied.

“To... to your place?” Ryou blinked, surprised by the suggestion.

“My penthouse, yes,” Garrett answered, laughing afterwards.

Ryou laughed with him before glancing down at their adjoined hands. The smile nearly fell from his face as he noticed the diamond-studded band on the man's left hand. For a moment, his elated expression faltered, his form stiffening slightly before relaxing once more.

He's engaged...

It was one of the young man's boundaries... not to sleep with those whom he knew were already involved with someone else. And he had half a mind to break this off before they could get any farther.

But...

Twenty-five hundred pounds. That was quite a bit of money for one day's work. He just couldn't refuse.

“Well...” he said, moistening his suddenly dry throat with a swallow. “I don't make a habit of going to my clients' houses. Normally I use one of the upstairs bedrooms, or go to a hotel...”

“My place is nicer,” Garrett claimed, dismissing the hesitance in Ryou's voice.

Ryou didn't say anything for a moment. Releasing Garret's hands, he moved over to the rack holding his clothes and pulled an outfit off of a hanger. He disappeared behind a curtain and proceeded to change out of his dance costume.

“...A penthouse. You must be very wealthy.”

Garrett nodded arrogantly. “I am, as a matter of fact.”

Ryou's angelic voice resounded mordantly from behind the curtain separating them. “I hear that a man who praises himself so often is compensating for something.”

Garrett laughed out loud and walked over to the curtain, stepping around to face the prostitute. The whitenette, now donned in an overlarge sweatshirt and baggy Kappa pants, glanced over at him with one slender eyebrow raised. Somehow he managed to remain just as alluring even in scrubs.

Chuckling again, the redhead draped an arm over the frail shoulders. “You will soon discover that that saying is anything but true.”

Ryou looked to the side, staring down at Garrett's engagement ring. After managing to find his voice he replied, “I-I look forward to it.”

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Wanna know what happened next? Just take a wild guess.
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Ryou could easily admit that Garrett's penthouse was one of the nicest residences he'd ever set foot in. Lavishly decorated in deep purple, burgundy, and gold, the apartment possessed a very regal quality that made Ryou feel as if he was stepping foot into a King's royal palace rather than someone's home. To be perfectly honest, he felt completely unworthy of entering.

Garrett would not allow him to hesitate. As if guessing the reluctance to enter, he grasped hold of Ryou's hand and pulled the petite male farther inside.

Ryou continued to glance around, taking in the rich splendor. He marveled at the tasteful wall decorations, the uniquely shaped candles set on shelves and racks. It all seemed strangely familiar, this style of decorating; he eyed a golden sponge-painted wall curiously, tilting his head to the side.

Mounted on the wall opposite of where he stood was a large portrait of a naked woman. A perfect white eyebrow arched in confusion as he stared at it, trying to decipher its purpose, as it did not go along with the color scheme of the rest of the apartment.

The woman depicted was by no means attractive. Rather boyishly shaped with a nearly flat chest and narrow hips, she stood proudly bare, making no efforts with her pale hands to cover the more private areas of her body. A hint of rouge dusted her cheeks unevenly, and the red lipstick had been smeared as if her lips had been recently kissed. Crowned by a halo of shoulder-length white-blonde hair, the woman's face was turned to the side and her eyes remained closed to the world.

But even with only a profile of her face, by the way her eyes crinkled in the corners one could tell she was in crying or in some kind of emotional pain.

In a very sad way, the painting was beautiful. Ryou took a step closer to it, running his eyes across the hand-crafted features of the woman's body. His heart sank with deep sorrow as he continued to stare at her face, and the barely noticeable tear tracks painted down her cheek.

“This is lovely,” he breathed, unable to tear his eyes away even as he felt two foreign arms wind around his waist, drawing him backwards against a muscular chest. He could feel the vibration of Garrett's deep chuckle through the fabric of the larger male's shirt.

“I don't really care for it... Art's not really my thing, you know?”

Ryou made a small humming noise in the back of his throat and relaxed into the embrace as the grip around him tightened ever-so-slightly. “She looks so upset,” he commented, chocolate-brown orbs falling shut as he felt a moist pair of lips sift through his hair and place a kiss on his neck.

Garrett breathed a sigh, which he noticed caused the tiny hairs on the whitenette's swan-like neck to stand erect. He glared over at the painting in distaste. All this talk about art was turning him off severely. He didn't give two shits about the painting. In all honesty, he found it very ugly; he still wondered why his fiancé had been so adamant about purchasing it in the first place.

He persisted to trail kisses down the pale neck, nibbling on the soft skin every so often. The petite male in his arms unclosed his eyes, staring blankly at the portrait in front of him; unbidden tears stung the corners of his eyes, slipping down his cheeks as he released on cue a practiced and perfected pleasured gasp and pressed his back further against the other man's torso.

Garrett's hands began to wander, slipping past the hem of the baggy sweatshirt and exploring the naked flesh beneath. Ryou shivered, eyes falling shut once again as he forced the tears to keep from falling.

Twenty-five hundred pounds, he reminded himself. Twenty-five hundred...

The redhead began to walk them out of the foyer, keeping Ryou close to himself as they moved to the bedroom.

The first room on the right. They entered the bedroom and Garrett wasted no time, rounding on the whitenette and looking him up and down. The earlier gentleness had all but vanished from his face, and in its place there was an animalistic hunger. The first thing he ordered was for Ryou to strip.

Ryou pursed his lips before bringing his hands down to the hem of his shirt and tugging on it, pulling the fabric up and over his head and tossing it to the side. It landed in a heap on the ground.

Emerald green orbs wandered over the newly exposed flesh, fingers itching to touch it again - especially as Ryou brought his own pale hands across his chest, trailing them downwards and stopping when they reached the rim of his pants. He stepped out of those all too easily, and several moments later his undergarments joined the small pile of clothes on the floor.

Ryou stood bare in front of the hungry redhead - a pale and glittering and perfect body.

“Get on the bed.”

Ryou did as told, moving his feet backwards without turning around. He kept his chocolate eyes on his customer at all times, and Garrett made no move to look away either. As he felt the back of his leg hit the ledge of the mattress, he sat down and then lay back, positioning himself comfortably.

Garrett heaved a sigh, grinning at the sight of the naked angel on his bed, waiting so patiently to be claimed. He approached the bed slowly and settled his body overtop of the smaller male. Ryou made a noise on the back of his throat, parting his lips slightly and moistening them with his tongue. He brought his arms up over his head, completely submissive to his customer's desires.

With a wicked grin and a bruising kiss, the twenty-four hour session began.

And the entire time, all Ryou could think about was Garrett's fiancé.

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Whoo... that was pretty long (by my standards at least..). So now we know what Ryou's night life is like... pretty sad. Once again I'd like to thank the oh-so-amazing Kipcha for writing the first and third scenes of this chapter. (hugs and showers Kip-chan with presents). Oh, and for those who were wondering, this story takes place in England (in case I didn't make that clear in earlier chapters...) Here's what Ryou's price would be in the US of A:

Britain Pound/GBP (£) to US Dollar/USD ($)

-- £103: roughly $200.75

-- £2500: roughly $4872.51

...Please review! Honestly... I don't mean to sound like a review-whore here, but I really would like to know what people think of my story. Constructive criticism is always appreciated, too.