Part Three...
Once Detective Moretti's car door was slammed abruptly shut, Paulie was hit by the sudden realization that he could no longer stand idly beneath the awning of the abandoned bar and grill, where he'd been taking up space before the other man's arrival. Not only was he certain the good detective would bust him the first time he approached another car --- Paulie found he was beside himself with anger. Enraged that the Pig had upset what had already been a rather shitty night.
All too aware that Grant's keen blue eyes were gauging his expressions and gestures through the droplets of rain winding their way down over the windshield of his sedan, Paulie gathered his wits about him quickly and swaggered away. Putting more and more distance between himself and the detective with every defiant step until he rounded the nearest corner.
When he was certain Moretti hadn't followed, Paulie breathed a sigh of relief and stopped for a moment to collect his thoughts, undaunted by the steady downpour saturating his flimsy clothes. His mind spinning, Paulie raised two delicate fingers to the gash in his bottom lip, tentatively feeling the sore, puffy tissue with his fingertips. The cop had clocked him one good. And yet, that wasn't what infuriated Paulie. What pissed him off most of all, was that for a split second, he'd LIKED it. It'd given him a rush, knowing that the other man was out of control. That he'd been able to frustrate the Pig enough to instigate such an impassioned response. Painful as it was to admit, Paulie knew he'd have welcomed another blow. The very thought sickened him. Why would he suddenly want such a thing, when he'd promised himself long ago, that he'd never lose control? He'd dealt with his fair share of rough tricks in the time he'd spent on the streets, and he had never allowed them to get away with such a thing unscathed. It was the very reason Paulie carried a blade down in his boot, along with his nightly stash of money. He refused to be hurt, ever again. So why this? Why was the detective able to step over that line, and at the same time, make him like it? Paulie reasoned that perhaps it was because this man, in particular, was a cop. Maybe it was because he knew there was no way he could strike back and get away with it?
If all this wasn't bad enough, it dawned on Paulie that he felt almost wounded by the cop's rejection. He knew it was ridiculous to feel hurt, considering the fact that Grant was an officer of the law. Even if this was a detective with a beautifully chiseled face, and even if he was queer as a three dollar bill, the facts remained the same. Grant was the "good" guy, and he was, by all standards, the "criminal". But regardless of what his mind knew, the bruised ego was still there. As were the sting of the words Detective Moretti had spat at him, the insults hurled that had made Paulie feel dirty and used.
Slowly, Paulie began to walk again. This time, heading in the direction of the small apartment he shared with Thad. It was time to call it a night, even though he hadn't earned a cent. The thought of staying out any longer, in an attempt to sell his ass, was too unbearable. All he wanted now, was to get some sleep. To push all the night's events out of his head and curl up beneath his shoddy blankets.
***
Drenched and trembling, Paulie fiddled with the knob on his apartment door. There was no need for him to carry a key. All one needed to do to gain entrance was jimmy the handle a bit, and the metal door would swing wide open. Thad and he had discussed replacing it numerous times, but it seemed an unnecessary expense. There was nothing inside worth stealing. A kitchen table made of old milk crates and plywood. Two mismatched wooden stools, wobbly at best. A moldy old couch with missing legs. The boom box sitting in the corner with only one working speaker. The mattress that lay on their bedroom floor. The clothes they kept in Hefty bags. Who would want such treasures? There was nothing in the apartment that the two couldn't replace with a bit of rummaging at the local garbage dump.
Stepping into the darkened living room, Paulie finally felt himself begin to relax. He stumbled forward, unable to see. Waving an arm above his head, he searched for the pull-chain that would light the naked bulb that dangled from the ceiling. As soon as he found it, Paulie pulled the cord, immediately bathing the room with a contrast of harsh light and eerie shadows. Squinting, he pulled the sopping wet T-shirt over his head and let it fall to the stained, gold carpet beneath his feet. The big black boots and red leathers followed. Too exhausted to care about the discarded articles of clothing, Paulie made his way, naked, down the short hallway, toying with his exacto blade, as he wandered into the bedroom.
As soon as he entered, the scent of stale liquor and cigarette smoke filled his nostrils. The odor was strong enough to make Paulie grimace as he neared the bed. Staring down at the lump of tangled bedcovers and limbs below him, he cleared his parched throat. "Hey, you awake?"
His question was answered with a husky groan and slight movement beneath the blankets. Paulie stood still, hesitating for a moment, willing away the disgust that was rising up inside him. "What the fuck are you doing home, Thad?"
"Whaddya mean? It's pouring out, man. Ain't nothing going on out there tonight." Thad rolled over onto his back, rearranging the covers he'd wound himself up in. "You're home early too."
"Yeah, but I didn't come home to get loaded, did I?" For what seemed an endless moment, Paulie held Thad's dark-eyed stare. Too drained to argue, yet too annoyed to let the other slide.
Searching for understanding on his friend's face, Thad grinned shyly and shrugged, lifting his hand to his pallid face to rub at the brown stubble covering his cheek, as was his habit when he was nervous. "Sorry?"
"Fuck it, Thad. I don't even care anymore. Kill yourself with that shit if you want, just make sure you don't spend every fucking dollar you earn. I ain't supporting your ass." With that, Paulie tossed his blade down on the floor, then lowered himself onto the mattress, yanking at the covers until they were up around his shoulders, his narrow back facing Thad.
"Hey, I have money. I SAVE my fucking money, bitch, unlike you. Shit, you're ALWAYS borrowing from me. What the fuck do you spend all your dough on, anyway, huh?" Thad reached out, gripping firm hold of Paulie's shoulder, ruggedly forcing him onto his back, "I think you fuck half the johns for free, dontcha? Just can't get enough cock. Everyone's but mine."
Growing increasingly agitated, Paulie chewed at the inside of his mouth, refusing to respond to his friend's asinine accusation. Reminding himself that it was Thad's vulnerability and drinking that forced such stupidity out of his mouth.
Even as he loomed above Paul, the boy's brown eyes looked more fearful than foreboding. Manipulating his lips to form a crooked smile, Paulie reached up and brushed a stray lock of dark hair out of Thad's face. "Don't be such an asshole. C'mere."
Paulie slid one hand to the back of Thad's slender neck, fingers gentle as they wandered into the long mane spilling over his shoulders, shrouding his weary face. Twining the limp tresses around his fingers, Paulie urged the other boy's body downward, until Thad's sparse chest hairs were brushing against his own, smooth chest. His friend's lips, hovering only inches above his mouth. "If you want me, Thad, just say so...don't fucking insult me. Understand?"
With a faint nod of his head, Thad acknowledged his lapse in judgment, then closed the last few inches between their lips. Molesting Paulie's mouth with an urgency that was almost unnerving, and with much more passion than Paulie could ever manage to scrape up for the other boy. Already, he could feel Thad's cock stiffening against his inner thigh --- the hot, subtle twinging of his friend's organ, pressing against his bare skin. Large hands rubbed their way down over Paulie's body, as he struggled to ignore the rank taste of Thad's tongue, thrusting deep into his mouth; too deep. Too desperate.
Thad fumbled with Paulie's semi-erect dick, coaxing it to swell in his tight, sweaty grasp, "god...Paul, I wanna shove my cock in your ass...so bad." His breathing ragged, Thad raised himself up on his knees and made a grab for Paulie's legs.
"No, no Thad...wait...lemme roll over." The last thing Paulie wanted was to look up at Thad while the guy was fucking him. Not tonight, not under these circumstances. The sight of a drunken Thad, pumping and sweating on top of him, would be enough to render him limp. And he feared it might just unravel the last of his sanity.
Reluctantly, Paulie positioned himself on his hands and knees, staring at the chipped paint on the wall before him. Waiting with a deadpan expression on his face for Thad to claim his ass. Within seconds, the boy's finger was wriggling between his cheeks, brushing against his clenched pucker, "you ain't been fucked tonight have you? Yer asshole feels like a vice."
And you SOUND like an asshole, Paulie thought to himself, scowling unseen. Wanting to have the ordeal done and over with as soon as possible, Paulie pushed back in one quick, hard movement, impaling himself on Thad's finger. "Shut up and fuck me, Thad."
"Wait a sec, you're still too tight," the boy whispered, his voice low and grating as he forced a second finger up inside Paulie's ass, twisting and scissoring both, until the ring of muscle had slackened considerably. "There...mmm...yeah...there you go, baby. That's good, really good. You like that?"
His long fingers gliding in and out with ease now, Thad lunged into Paulie's hot, moist hole. Pressing deeper and deeper, until Paulie was groaning in spite of himself, rocking his body in time with each thrust. "Yeah, I like it...gimme more. Stick your cock in me. DO it. Do it now."
Stifling his urge to whimper with frustration at the emptiness he felt, once Thad's fingers were withdrawn, Paulie pressed his forehead down against the mattress and arched his back like a cat in heat, his ass held high. Grateful that his straggly brown hair fanned out around his head, hiding his flushed face. Hiding the way he cringed with repulsion when Thad spread his cheeks far apart, leaned down close enough to breathe in his scent, and spit a gob of warm saliva onto his pucker.
Trailing his tongue over the split in his bottom lip again, Paulie thought of the detective one last time --of Moretti's stormy blue eyes and the raw emotion he'd seen blazing behind them, of the man's fist slamming violently into his jaw. Reminding himself that it was reasonable to give in to another, when it furthered his own cause. And for now, it was Thad. He still needed Thad.
***
Twilight was just settling around the gloomy quarter, as Paulie drank in his decrepit surroundings in silence. Before the passenger window of the car, small ramshackle homes and abandoned tenements flashed before his blue-gray eyes. The sober neighborhood killed most of the joy he'd felt only moments before, when a sizable wad of cash had been placed in the palm of his hand.
Very carefully, Paulie shifted his gaze to the middle-aged driver, who was too occupied with maneuvering his shiny new Lincoln down the street to notice he was being studied. He wasn't a particularly attractive man, but he had handled Paulie with respect and had paid much better than most. Of course, the extra money hadn't been a gift, it was the price he'd earned for indulging a few of the older gentleman's kinks. Sure the guy had taken a steaming hot piss on his chest... But afterward, he'd drawn Paulie a bath and washed him from head to toe, gingerly, as if he were washing a piece of fine porcelain rather than some strange kid off the street. The man had some CLASS.
"You can drop me off up here, on the right." He spoke softly and touched the man's shoulder, "Listen, Sir. If you want me again, my name's Paulie. I'm usually right around here, but if I'm not, you can ask whoever is and they'll tell you where I'm at." Paulie gave the man what he hoped would pass for a soft, wistful look, then smiled timidly.
The man sitting behind the wheel gave him a wide, toothy grin and repeated his name, "Paulie. Such a pretty young thing you are, I'm sure I'll remember you."
As the Lincoln pulled up beside the curb, Paulie leaned across the leather bench seat and kissed the older man's cheek. "You might not believe this, but...I really had a nice time with you." Paulie fluttered his lashes and glanced down at his own lap, feigning embarrassment. "You were like...the daddy that I never had. I mean, you're a REAL gentleman, not like the others. Say you'll come again?"
"Yes, yes...Paulie, I'll come again," the man cupped Paulie's chin and tilted his face upright, "count on it."
"I will. Thank you. Thanks so much." Feeling quite proud of himself, Paulie threw his slender arms around the trick's neck and gave him a quick squeeze. His spirits lifted once more, he practically bounced out the car door. Waiting till it was securely shut behind him, before he muttered to himself -- strutting across the street and swishing his velvet-clad hips in a cocky manner, "you perverted fucking geezer."
Halfway across the road, Paulie stopped dead in his tracks, nearly twisting an ankle in the high-heeled boots he wore in the process. His heart skipping, feline eyes settling on the familiar four-door sedan parked directly in front of him. The good detective was back. If nothing else, Paulie thought, the man had balls.
A sardonic grin creeping over his face, Paulie tugged at the flimsy, cotton ties that held his peasant blouse shut, opening the wide neckline, letting it slip low enough to expose one milky-white shoulder. His gait slow and fluid, Paulie made his way over the cracked pavement toward Moretti's parked car. As he drew nearer, Paulie noticed that the other man wasn't alone.
Leaning into the passenger-side window, was an incredibly young looking boy. Not just any boy, but one Paulie recognized. A blinding wave of jealousy washed over him, lasting only a few moments, before dwindling into something more akin to irritation.
Bryan, the kid Detective Moretti was undoubtedly setting up, had only been around for a short time. Three weeks at best. And while Paulie knew Bryan's true age to be fifteen, the boy could easily pass for younger. Not only was he a petite, emaciated little thing with a mop of unruly blond hair and a sprinkling of freckles over his upturned nose -- Bryan was a bit on the slow side. Still far too innocent to be left to his own devices on the street. The more Paulie thought about it, the fact that someone sworn to uphold the law could take advantage of a naive boy, the more shitted at Moretti he became.
"Heyyyyyy, lookie here." Before he'd even had time to think through what he was doing, Paulie called out to the other man, "Moretti's back on the case."
Flipping his shoulder-length hair back off his bared shoulder, Paulie burst out into shrill laughter, the sort of laughter that leans toward sounding just a bit insane. "Can't keep yourself away, eh?"
Through the windshield, he could see Detective Moretti's eyes widening in disbelief. And the sight of this, the sight of the stunned and confused expression Grant wore, amused Paulie to no end -- provoked him to act even more obnoxiously.
Anger still fueling his bravery, Paulie hopped up onto the hood of Grant's car and reclined until he was sprawled out, flat on his back. Spending a few, fleeting moments slithering one hand up and down his inner thigh, before he raised himself up on both elbows. At eye level with Moretti now, Paulie turned his head to stare through the glass, searching the other's tensed face, his wide sapphire eyes. Then, lowering his lids to half mast, Paulie wet his pouty lips with the tip of his tongue, licking them as slowly as he could manage, before firing yet another bold statement at his favorite detective. "You know you wanna see me naked, Grant."
Rolling over so that he was stretched out on his side now, Paulie lifted the hem of his airy, white blouse, showing off the snug fit of his velvet pants. Knowing they left little to the imagination, that every curve and line beneath was plainly visible. "What if I told you, I have a big, fat cock?"
Grant blinked. His jaw dropping, face reddening. With rage? Embarrassment? Desire? Paulie had no idea which, but it pleased him all the same. He feigned a sheepish grin, and slid off the hood of the unmarked car, taking note of the bewildered look on Bryan's face as he stood back up again. The poor kid had no idea what was happening yet, no idea that he had almost been busted.
Paulie eased his way behind the small boy and slipped both arms around his meager waist. Bending down slightly, Paulie pressed one smooth cheek against Bryan's, so that he could look over the boy's shoulder at Detective Moretti. "So you like underage boys, Grant? That's okay. I like'em too. Isn't that right, Bryan?"
"Umm...yeah...Paulie...right." Uncertain of what Paulie was up to, the kid squirmed apprehensively in his embrace.
"Shh...it's okay...relax, baby, yeah...that's right, I'll make you feel so good," Paulie cooed in Bryan's ear, as he snaked both hands up and down the child's scrawny chest, stopping to tweak each nipple playfully through the boy's T-shirt. His smokey eyes locked on Grant's, daring the detective to put an end to his mischief.
One look at Moretti's face, and it was clear that he was ready to explode. His anger had surfaced. But that was a good thing, as far as Paulie was concerned. It was what he wanted -- to piss the asshole off. The fucker didn't belong here, on his street. Shouldn't have tried luring a baby in for solicitation. What the fuck did the dumb prick know about their lifestyle, anyway? Paulie was sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the good detective would never be able to cope with the cards in life that guys like he and Bryan had been dealt. No... As far as he was concerned, the Pig could go back to Mayberry and hand out parking tickets, or traffic tickets, or whatever other bullshit jobs the cops did there.
Chancing his luck, Paulie brushed his pillow-like lips over Bryan's neck. Raining moist, feather-light kisses along Bryan's skin until he reached the prominent jawbone. Nipping at the bony ridge, Paulie felt the boy's body relax against his chest. Could hear the raspy huffs coming harder and faster from Bryan's mouth, as he snaked one hand down between the kid's legs and rubbed at his straining dick. "Ahhhh...wha? Paulie?"
"Knock it off." Grant barked abruptly, his stress apparent. "That's enough."
"Mmmm...ohbaby, you like me, don't you? Yeah. Feel that? That's my cock, honey. Feel how hard you're gettin' me?" Grinding his dick against Bryan's tight little ass, Paulie licked at the other's ear, moaning and sighing dramatically as he continued to grope the obvious bulge between the boy's thighs.
Bryan twisted then, craned his neck so he could search out Paulie's lips. As soon as Paulie saw the wanton look on his face, an acute stab of guilt pierced his chest. It made him wonder if Bryan had ever been touched by a man not dangling a couple bills before his hungry eyes. By someone who took the time out to make HIM feel good. A knot twisted in Paulie's stomach at the thought. Fifteen was too young, either way. The boy didn't belong here any more than Moretti did. As gently as he could manage, Paulie covered Bryan's mouth, kissing him with more emotion than he'd been able to muster up for Thad the night before. Sadness weighing heavily on his shoulders.
Then, almost as soon as their mouths had crushed together, the intimate connection was broken and Paulie was shoving Bryan away. "Get out of here you little shit, before I do something illegal to that hot ass of yours..."
"You don't wanna..."
"Man, Bryan, don't be fucking dense. Just GO!" He hesitated, regretting the bitterness in his voice almost immediately. "See this guy, here? This is Detective Moretti. You almost got your ass hauled in. Now, get lost. I'll catch you later on, okay?"
"Oh, shit." Bryan mouthed the words as he backed away, his eyes as big as saucers. "Thanks, man."
Paulie stared down the street after the boy, watching him scurry away to safety like a dirty little sewer rat. Once Bryan was out of view, Paulie directed his helplessness and anger at Grant. Whipping around to face the other man, sneering hatefully as he grabbed hold of the car door -- thin fingers clutching around the open window, grasping the metal so hard his knuckles turned white. "What the FUCK were you thinking? You wanna tell me that? You think kids like Bryan WANT to be out here? Think you're a big man, just 'cause you got that stupid fucking badge? Don't guys like you have a conscience?"