The Rent Boy (EDITING)

Chapter Seven: Names and Photo Frames-

A/N: gif of Logan and yes he's Steven R. McQueen from Vampire Diaries haha.

    I'd been trying not to think about this, because every time I did this weird nervous, or maybe excited, sensation would rush through my entire body and linger in my stomach. Then a domino effect would kick in and I'd find my breathing would fall into an uneven rhythm, and a twitch that started in my fingers, would slowly crawl up through every muscle in my body.

    Jesus, Ash, man up, I thought to myself as I approached the door. It was a nice door, an oak colour. Looked expensive. That kinda went with theme of the house – expensive. And all I was wearing was a borrowed jumper and a pair of jeans that I threw on this morning.

    I looked up at the sky, already dark and glimmering with stars. It was about ten in the evening. I arrived at his house at the arranged time. I was never usually early, but I think tonight I was, maybe, a tiny bit early. It wasn't my fault business was slow today and I had nothing else to do.

    I breathed deeply in an attempt to calm my nerves. All it did was help clear my mind enough to knock on the door. I suppose that wasn't too bad, at least I was getting somewhere. I waited on the porch patiently for a couple of minutes, before the door was swung open and a bright, yellow light flooded into the darkness of the street. I squinted my eyes as they adjusted to the brightness.

    “Hey,” I heard his quiet voice greet. My blood rushed to my toes from the strange and awkward excitement I was feeling. I blinked excessively and, not trusting myself with any words, nodded in reply. “Um, do you want to...?” he half turned to glance inside of his house for a moment. “I guess you should come in.” He laughed gently, stepping aside to let me into the hall. My trainers squeaked against the laminate flooring.

    Every movement I made, no matter how small, I felt self-conscious about. I really needed to shove those thoughts to the back of my mind and concentrate on what I was here to do. It was a bit distracting being inside a house so nice, though. Not to mention the fact that Logan was a seventeen year old and, admittedly, very decent looking guy.

    Again with feeling out of place. I should have recycled the suit.

    There were pictures hung up all over the walls. Clearly the family was a very proud one. There were stairs directly opposite the front door, and two doors on either side of me. Logan lead me through the door on my right, which I presumed was the lounge from the red sofa and wide-screen television mounted up on the wall. The lighting was darker in here. Lights dimmed, giving the room a candle-like glow, and a quieter, more private feel to it.

    “So...” I heard from behind me. I turned to face him, “my parents are gonna be out for a while which, you know, means we got the place to ourselves I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled softly. “You wanna sit down or something?” he gestured towards the sofa.

    I glanced at it, forgetting to reply. If it bothered Logan, he never mentioned it. I knew that I should have said something but my brain faltered me, so I continued to stare blankly at the sofa, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

    Logan clearly wasn't comfortable standing in silence, as he tried again for a response. “I guess I should ask you about...prices?” his voice grew quieter still, full of uncertainty. “You know, how much it would cost for, say, like, an hour of your time?”

    Finally, I found my inner rent boy––about time too––and began taking slow steps forward. “How about we just forget about all that for now...” my hands found his shoulders as my voice trailed off, forcing him down onto the cushions. His jaw flexed in what seemed like nervousness, looking up at me with wide eyes, “...and I just fuck you.”