Chapter Text
Isak stood languidly against the lamppost outside of the casino. His eyes were heavy with sleeplessness and his fingertips ice-cold, the thin hoodie he was wearing insufficient in protecting him from the resounding chill of the early morning. It was about 2am now and the boy had been standing in his usual place for the larger part of two hours, watching numbly as the fluorescent lights from the inside of the club cast hazy spasms of red and blue on the glistening wet road. The teenager shivered in on himself, his tired gaze following the gamblers and the drunkards as they scuttled past him. He observed each person wearily, almost bored. Some were young and intoxicated, laughing and howling and tripping over each other, their faces red with the flush of alcohol. Others frightened Isak, their salacious leers and aggressive hollers enough to make the boy tighten his grip on the small utility knife that he kept in the pocket of his jeans.
Despite the seemingly euphoric buzz of the city, there was always an eroding sense of futility that fell over the streets at such an ungodly hour; the pumping music and the neon-lit atmosphere harboring an underlying presence of terror. There was a horrifying nothingness to it all; an emptiness that chilled Isak to the bone.
The boy wasn't even consoled by the nearby presence of his 'protection,' Christoffer. The handsome, slightly older male stood only a few meters away, lazily sharing a joint with some of the younger female prostitutes; basking in the drug-addled attentions of the small herd of teenage girls.
Typical.
Chris turned to shoot him what was probably meant to be a reassuring wink. Isak just rolled his eyes, swallowing down the trepidation and anxiety that swelled within his rib cage; the asphyxiating sensations that threatened to escape through his throat.
He was only seventeen, after all, and his youth and inexperience made him undeniably fretful. This observable timidity often worked in his favor, however, the air of innocence and fragility all being a part of his allure. His soft blonde curls and wide, vaguely despondent green eyes worked to entice a plethora of men; all sleazy and older and looking for something pure to corrupt and ravage.
Isak sighed and shuffled restlessly in his place, imagining that he was anywhere else. He pictured himself at home, not his real home of course, but what the teenager had always imagined a home - a proper one - would look like. He thought of himself curled up in a warm bed, void of his relentless anxieties and the worry of his mother, tucked safely under blankets and sound asleep like any normal seventeen year old should be in the early hours of a Friday morning. He imagined a wide-brimmed window laced with soft yellow curtains, parted to allow the quiet morning sun to sift into his bedroom. He imagined waking up to the benign tinkering of an alarm, his muscles well-rested, his eyes no longer bloodshot and raw and his throat no longer scratched and dry; the inescapable notion of filth no longer embedded in every inch of his skin.
He let himself get lost in the fantasy for a short while, his frosted limbs relatively eased by the phantom heat produced by the delusion. He leaned back further against the lamppost, wanting nothing but to disappear. But just as Isak felt his eyelids begin to drop, just as he felt himself slip away from the harshness of his current situation, a shrill gust of wind whipped against his cheeks. The boy was pulled from his waking dream, effectively slapped back into to his cold, undesirable reality.
As the fantasy evaded him, Isak got the inexplicable sense that he might never experience warmth again.
He tried not to think about this as he spotted Eva, only twenty or so feet away, stumbling drunkenly out of a light blue car.
She was dressed vastly more extravagantly than Isak, her curvaceous dancer's body sheathed in a tight, strapless red tube dress. She wore slightly torn fishnets and her vein-popped eyes were ringed with heavy, smudgy black shadow that smeared down the tops of her glitter-dusted cheekbones. On her feet were a pair of ridiculously tall patent leather stilettos that caused her to trip haphazardly, hindering her every step. She turned to blow a sloppy kiss to her departing client, almost tumbling to her knees.
'Isak!' Eva exclaimed in a joyous slur as she began to stumble over to the boy.
He left his station and rushed to his friend's side, taking a steady hold of her waist before she fell onto the road. Expelling a huff, he guided her back to the relative safety of the sidewalk.
Eva smelt strongly of bubblegum, cigarettes and vodka. Isak sighed.
'You're drunk,' he muttered, overcome with irritation.
Eva smothered him in a hug and planted a big, wet kiss on his chin, chuckling. He jerked back and scrunched his nose.
'You're so fucking drunk,' he said again, his voice lit with slight disgust.
Isak loved Eva immensely, but she was always far too affectionate when under the influence and he was far too homosexual to accommodate it. He couldn't help but smile, however, when she squeezed one of his cheeks and made a soft cooing noise. Although it was somewhat annoying, Isak found himself relaxing under her attention, his earlier trepidation subsiding significantly.
Eva had always had that affect on him. She was the closest thing to a sister that he had ever known. The girl was the one who had helped him in the first place, the one who had shown him the ins and outs of their chosen "profession."
'I'll have you know, Issy, that I am not drunk,' She mumbled abstractedly, taking Isak's face in both of her sweaty hands, 'I'm drunk on life, maybe, b-but I'm not drunk-'
Isak rolled his eyes once more and looked over to Christoffer, whose attention had been noticeably sparked since Eva's arrival. The brown-haired young man was responsible for both Isak and Eva and was currently overwrought with a vaguely distressed expression. Even though he would never admit it, it was obvious that Chris cared about Eva more profoundly than just as her 'guardian.' The two hooked-up regularly, resting on the assertion that emotions would never get involved.
Emotions, however, as with almost everything, did get involved.
They tried to trick Isak, mistakenly thinking of him as stupid and naive - blissfully unaware that nothing passed him.
He could see it in Chris's hazel green eyes; he could see how he yearned to save Eva, how he wanted to take her away from it all and keep her for himself. Of course, with his illegal line of work, fuckboy status and addiction to a cocktail of serious narcotics, Chris wasn't saving anyone anytime soon.
Still, Isak often found himself wishing that someone would look at him that way. He wished that someone, just once, would want to rescue him.
Isak wished a lot of things, of course, all desires equally unreachable and fruitless.
'Eva, you can't get drunk on the job,' Isak chastised the girl while she nuzzled contentedly into his chest, shuddering into him. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her pale, bare shoulders, the skin prickled with goosebumps in the unforgiving cold, 'You can get taken advantage of - or short-changed,' He went on, letting out an exasperated exhalation as he tried to draw away to give her his hoodie.
'I didn't get short changed, dumb dumb,' She drawled, unrelenting in her smothering bear hug, holding tight and shifting back just enough to poke the boy sharply in the jaw, 'I got paid 500 kroner just to kick this guy in the balls while he jacked off and called me mommy,' She broke out into a breathless cackle, 'Sick fucker.'
'How do you even find these people?' Isak exclaimed in a half-whine, 'I have been standing here for two fucking hours.'
Cold panic started to intersperse within him. The night was wearing on and he needed at least one shift's worth of money by daylight or he was going to be fucked.
He gulped. He was already behind on so many bills.
'Don't worry your pretty little face about anything,' Eva murmured softly, noticing Isak's distress and playfully kneading at one of his cheeks, making him grimace, 'Someone will pull over for you. You always get the men,' She grinned at him, stars in her sleep-deprived eyes, 'You're the beautiful-est.'
She kissed his chin once more, producing an obnoxious smacking sound when she pulled away.
'Thanks,' Isak muttered flatly, wiping off the residue of Eva's saliva.
She moved to pet his hair, seeming to be trying to neaten it.
'Eva. Stop bothering Goldilocks,' Came a soft but masculine voice from behind them. Isak and Eva turned at once to see the familiar and striking visage of Christoffer, his complexion faultless and sun-kissed, healthy in appearance despite his precarious lifestyle, 'You're going to scare off his potential clients.'
He flashed Eva a teasing smirk.
'Alright, alright,' Eva hummed softly, standing on the tips of her toes to plant a final sloppy kiss to Isak's forehead before pulling away, 'I'll annoy you instead,' She warbled, before flinging herself at Chris and swinging him into a passionate side-hug.
Isak didn't miss the slight flush of Christoffer's face. The entire spectacle made him cringe.
'You know, if you actually did your job I wouldn't have to be waiting on the side of the road,' Isak spat accusingly at the older male.
'I told you already, I'm not really a pimp,' Chris murmured back in a disorientated drawl, lighting a cigarette and furrowing his perfectly arched brows, 'I don't organize clients. I'm just here to keep your sweet ass safe,' He ran an unsteady hand through his own hair, 'You're a baby, Iss, you'd be fucked without me.'
Eva hummed in agreement, rocking drearily against the brunette.
It was true. Isak would be fucked without Chris. He couldn't even count the amount of times the older male had beaten and terrorized clients that tried rip him off or take advantage. Chris was simply always there, always waiting on call to swoop in and defend the adolescent whenever he so much as felt threatened. Even if that protection meant handing over a cut of his earnings, Isak knew it was worth it.
He sighed.
'Yeah, I know,' He murmured in defeat, looking at his shoes.
'Chin up, sweetheart, the night isn't over just yet,' Chris directed in consolation, reaching an arm out to muss the boy's curls.
Isak shed a small smile.
Despite it all, he really liked Chris. The brunette was plentiful in both charm and good humor and it was obvious that if it wasn't for his fucked up life circumstances, he would've been an entirely decent person. Sure, he was a little exploitative and brazen, but to the heart of him he was a friendly, smiling presence in a world of coldness.
The adolescent kicked a foot out against the concrete of the sidewalk in frustration, shuffling in his place. He tried to straighten out his spine and dropped his hip a little in an attempt to look sexy, blaming his limp, exhausted posture for his complete lack of buyers.
Despite his best efforts, however, Isak soon returned to his pitiful slouch. He focused on the white plumes of smoke that drifted in swirls from Chris' cigarette, melting to nothing in the glacial air. It wasn't long before Eva and Chris had started making out. Isak grit his teeth when Eva let out a breathy moan, the brunette responding by rough hold of her ass.
Isak resisted the urge to gag.
'Get a fucking room,' He mumbled under his breath, but neither of them seemed to hear him or care, going on with their increasingly obscene touches despite his close presence.
The boy, more than anything, felt painfully alone. He turned his attention back to the passing cars, rushing by and never stopping, their hoods catching ribbons of light as they drove away, disappearing into oblivion.
Another half hour passed and the teenager was moments from falling asleep on his feet like a horse, when he heard Eva make a loud exclamation. He let his eyes flutter open, lashes wet with sleep, tuning back into the world around him. He squinted for a moment in brief confusion before he noticed a sleek, glossy Rolls Royce beginning to pull over into his curb. The car was black and imposing and probably worth more than his entire apartment block, the headlights flashing softly as it came to a smooth stop.
Chris whistled, long and low, turning to grin at Isak.
'Damn son,' Eva muttered, her eyes shining with intrigue.
Her expression suggested that she was considering approaching the vehicle herself. Christoffer noticed this and frowned, stepping back and dragging her with him.
'Let the Isak try first,' He chided her sharply, 'It's probably for him anyway. Nobody with a car like that is going to want you.'
The comment was a joke of course, but it still made Eva slap him. Chris squawked out in mock pain, rubbing his reddened cheek dramatically.
Eva backed away, though, giving Isak an encouraging nod.
'Now's your chance, Iss,' She said.
Isak perked up at this, rubbing his eyes and smoothing his hair back in a self-conscious effort as he prepared for strike. He turned to Chris with one last wearisome expression, a thing he always did despite his relative familiarity with the work.
All things aside, Isak was still merely a boy, and approaching random cars with the proposition of sex in exchange for money never stopped being daunting, no matter how many times he did it.
Chris threw him a sympathetic glance, stepping forward once again to give Isak a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
'Remember; you say when, you say where, and you say how much,' Isak nodded, relaxing slightly under the advice he had heard countless times, 'If anything happens, call me, if that's not an option, you have the knife,' He gave the boy a friendly shove, 'You got this, Iss. Take care of you.'
And with that, Eva and Chris scrambled off to the far end of the block and the boy was alone.
Isak took a deep breath, stifling a panic attack. He took small steps towards the car, his feet moving at their own accord. When the window of the vehicle rolled down, he felt his stomach clench.
Play it cool, he told himself, barely looking at the driver. Isak rested his elbows over the rim of the window, pretending he was an entirely different person as he forced out his usual winning line.
'Hey sexy,' He offered halfheartedly, hating himself more than he could ever put into words, 'Want to have some fun?'
There was a short stretch of silence before Isak heard a response he had never once received, not in all his nights of working.
An onslaught of deep and musical laughter.
Laughter.
Vaguely bewildered, the boy shifted his gaze to the driver of the car, looking the culprit up and down. He felt a distinct sting of humiliation wash over him when he was met with the unexpected sight of the hysterical stranger.
Isak scowled and his cheeks burned red.
Fuck.
This individual was nothing like his regular clientele, who were all respectively overweight or balding or both. For starters, he was remarkably thin, perhaps lanky, even, although it was hard to tell in the gloom. He was indisputably youthful, probably only a few years older than Isak. His striking features were partially concealed by a pair of black sunglasses, fucking sunglasses, at almost three in the goddamn morning.
His full lips were pulled into a jovial smile and his pale skin was flushed at the cheeks; the softness of it contrasting with the sculpted dimensions of his face. His dark blonde hair was ridiculously immaculate, appearing feather soft and swept up into a delicate quiff.
He was one of the most attractive people Isak had ever laid eyes on, let alone serviced.
The boy immediately hated him.
'Ah... Excuse me?' Isak snapped, grimacing in vast irritation.
The young man just kept on laughing and Isak was indisputably overcome with the urge to hit him.
'I'm sorry-' He let out in between stifled chuckles, leaning into the steering wheel in his fit of amusement, 'I just didn't realize you guys actually said stuff like that. I thought that was only in films.'
For the longest moment, all Isak could do was stare, blinking in befuddlement. His initial embarrassment morphed quickly to anger as he silently took in the stranger's careless, mocking grin.
How dare he.
'I'm sorry-' Isak began, his voice harsh and full of acid, 'But are you fucking with me?'
The stranger turned to him at once, something in Isak's face causing him to flinch. His pompous, self-entitled air immediately shifted, softening at the edges. A look of sincerity fell over his features.
'What?' He said suddenly with a frown, voice smooth and deep. 'No, no-' He moved forward to place a large, pale hand on Isak's wrist, causing the boy to stiffen, 'I'm interested.'
An inexplicable heat rushed through Isak's system at the words and physical contact, his chest becoming tight. He choked down the infernal sensation and drew away, straightening out and standing tall.
'Good,' He said with a sharp, resolute nod, keeping his register clear and refusing to look at the other as he laid down the rules, 'I charge 800 kroner a session, which can extend up to one hour. If you want more time, it's going to cost you another 800. I don't do penetration, video or any hardcore BDSM stuff,' He paused for a moment before remembering the rest of his nightly speech, 'I am open to soft-core fetish play but that needs to be negotiated,' The boy looked downwardly for a moment, cringing heavily before adding; 'If all of that is fine with you, I'm all yours, baby.'
The smile he earned from the client was startlingly gorgeous, wide and bright. The younger boy became immediately disarmed, feeling the faintest flutter within his stomach at the sight of it.
'Perfect,' The stranger said in a gentle, hazy register and Isak, despite his already established disdain for the over-privileged male, found himself wanting to follow his velvet soft voice into the far corners of the night, 'You're perfect.'
The boy blushed, instantly warmed, his face burning with crimson in spite of the icy air.
Isak stood there for a quarter of a minute, stupefied and weary, before he moved to open the door of the car, his hand grasping at the cold handle and pulling. He frowned in puzzlement when he realized it was still locked.
He looked to the older male who just smirked, tilting his head.
'Just one more thing...' He said.
'What?' Isak replied impatiently, holding back a groan of annoyance.
'What's your name?'
Isak blinked again, his forehead creasing in astonishment.
No one has ever asked me that before.
'Adrian,' He lied smoothly, not even considering telling the other the truth, 'Adrian Eskett.'
The stranger nodded and Isak heard the car unlock.
'Well, Adrian, I'm Even,' He murmured breezily, offering the boy another inviting smile, 'It would be a pleasure to do business with you.'