Trusting Desire

Chapter Three

Mark's P.O.V.

My Interview was Sunday night; I woke up the following day the same way as usual, curled around my bookbag in my usual alleyway with a headache. I'm freezing, it's December in New York, and I'm wearing a leather top just above my belly button and leather underwear, my new work uniform. I want to get changed but not here, not out in the open. When I was doing sex work, it was always anal, so I kept my shirt on if I had to have sex. It minimized the dysphoria as much as possible. No matter how cold it got, I would never get changed in front of people. Besides, I should shower before I change; it has been so long since I have been able to shower.

The first time I met Mimi, she took me back to her loft and let me shower. That was two weeks after I had gotten here. She may let me pour today. So I started my walk to Mimi's house. I took the long way because some part of me was afraid to tell Mimi I got the job. Based on her reaction when I told her I was going to try for it, she was worried about me taking it, and I hated making her worry. She had enough on her plate without me giving her cause to be upset.

When I got outside Mimi's building, I used the payphone to call her, but Mimi didn't answer. Instead, a guy's voice was on the other end.

"Hello?" the man sounds like he has been laughing.

"Uhh-hi, is Mimi there?" I sound like an idiot, stumbling over my words.

Mimi is laughing somewhere off to the side of the phone, "Roger give it to me!"

"Hello," now it's Mimi's voice.

"Hey, it's Mark," she sounds really happy. I feel like I'm interrupting, "Listen, I was gonna see if I could come up, but since you're busy, I'll just–"

"Of course, you can! I'll be right down," She hangs up the phone.

Mimi appeared at the door a few minutes later and hugged me, "Sorry about Roger. He thinks he is funny. He is a pain sometimes."

"Roger?" I ask as we start up the stairs.

"Yeah, he's my friend, the one who answered the phone."

"Oh," I smile, "Your boyfriend?"

"No, Mark," she rolls her eyes and punches me in the arm playfully, "just a friend. He lives in the loft above me."

I laugh and rub my arm where she hit me, "I got the job. I start next week."

She forces a small smile, "That's good."

"Yeah, maybe I can find a place and stop living in the alley," I'm half joking, but she turns to me with wide eyes.

"Mark!" she grabs me by the arm and drags me the rest of the way up the stairs.

When we get into her loft, a boy, I assume Roger, is sitting on her couch strumming a guitar. He jumps at the sound Of Mimi slamming her door open, "Roger!"

"What," he asks, settling back onto the couch and shaking his head.

Mimi pulls me until we are both standing in front of him, he looks up at me, and my breath catches in my throat. He is an attractive man. He has a strong jawline with beard stubble and equally as strong cheekbones. His eyes are a beautiful emerald green, and they glimmer. I've never seen eyes that sparkle like that. I want to stare at him all day. His lips are just as perfect as his eyes, kissable. His hair is shoulder-length, blonde, and wavy. I want so badly to reach out and run my hands through it. He is wearing a t-shirt with the arms cut off, showing off his muscular arms. He is not overly muscular, just enough that you can tell he has spent time lifting heavy equipment like guitar amps. My eyes run down his arms the way I wish my fingers could.