Disclaimer: The Bee owns none of the characters or products named in this story.
Warning: This story contains mention of prostitution, group sex, violence, m/m orgies
and one wild raccoon.
Summary: Xander is a male prostitute. It is his chosen occupation and he is very
happy with it. One night he takes on a group of clients with a friend and things
do not go as planned. When his friend is found murdered, homicide is called in.
Spike is a brilliant detective with OCD issues. When he is told to hide out in the
woods with the witness to protect, he gets more than he could have imagined.
Special thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banners, the story idea and for holding my
hand during the writing.
Xander was shaved, showered, powered and waiting by the curb when
Joey came around to collect him. The sun had long ago set and the street
lights cast an odd blue illumination to pool in circles that lit their path
on the sidewalk.
As soon as Joey stepped inside the circle of light, Xander could tell his friend
was wasted. His skin glowed with a waxy, pasty sheen and the pupils of his
eyes were blown wider and blacker than the center of a tootsie pop. His
walk was interspersed with small stumbling steps and he continually laughed
and rubbed his finger under his nose in an itchy tell tale sign.
"Fuck, Joe. How much you take?"
Joey threw his arm around his friend's shoulder and tugged him close.
"I ever tell you how hot I think you are Xan? I mean, hot, hot. Smokin' hot.
You wiggle into them tight ass jeans and that hat and, by Goddamn, I could
just fuck you myself."
Xander sighed. He took his friend by the arm and began leading him down
the street on the half mile walk to get to the Holiday Inn. It looked like this
was going to be one of those nights he serviced the john AND babysat the
idiot. Really bad part of that was that Joey had a tendency to have a problem
distinguishing the truth from a lie when he was in this state.
Xander decided he needed to get a few facts straight before they got there.
"Come on, Buddy. We don't want to keep the customers waiting. So,
you say these guys are here for that convention downtown? I mean, what
the fuck kind of stuff would business men from West Virginia be importing
Joey shook his head and tried to concentrate.
"Huh? What convention?"
Xander decided to try again but this time keep it simple.
"You said they were businessmen from West Virginia. Are they?"
Joey laughed at Xander's amazing sense of humor. That fucking duck joke
always was funny no matter how many times Xander told it.
"What? Oh, yeah, sure. West Virginia. North Carolina. Columbia. One
of them odd countries."
Xander felt an uncomfortable squiggle of misgiving tap him on the back.
"Columbia? Where the fuck did you meet these guys?"
Joey scratched his head and tripped over his left foot before Xander caught
him and kept him upright. He was getting aggravated at his friend for all
this mind numbing conversation that buzzed in his ear like an annoying
"Fuck, Xan, I don't know. Oh, yeah, um, Toad put me on to them. Said it
would square up that debt I owed him. That Toad is a great guy, ain't
Xander stopped walking and grabbed Joey roughly by the forearm, shaking
and jerking him to a stop.
"You fucking took this job and used me to pay off one of your dope deals?"
Immediately, Joey threw his arms around Xander neck and he began kissing him,
pawing him and groping the unresistant, noncooperative body.
"Come on, Xaaan. Don't be mad. Pleeeease.
Before Xander could form a reply, their public display was interrupted by
the blast of and air horn on a passing semi truck as the driver hung his
head out the window and shouted.
In unison, both boys turned, flipped their middle fingers and yelled back.
It was a sign of friendship and solidarity that broke the tension and reminded
Xander of what was really important. He didn't have much in this life. He
didn't have money or family but he did have this. He had Joey. And the
fact was, his life was all right.
Reaching down, Xander entwined his fingers with his friends and he tugged
them forward with a smile on his face and a wink.
"Come on, Joe Blow. We got a job to do."
When they got to the hotel, they paused outside the huge glass doors that
led to the lobby. Both knew they would be spotted as whores and tossed
back out before they even had the chance to bid the desk clerk 'Good Evening.'
"Our best bet is to go in the side door off the parking lot. What's the
Joey blinked. He had never been good at math and pop quizs always caused
a brain burp that made any reasonable answer impossible.
Xander wanted to scream in frustration. He jerked his friend back to
stand against the brick wall out of the range of the parking lot security
camera and he shook him roughly hoping to dislodge the information.
"Goddamn it Joe, The number. The fucking room number. THINK! There
are only three fucking floors in this hotel. Did it start with a one, a two
or a three?"
Joey swayed slightly on his feet and concentrated so hard his eyes went
crossed. Finally and unexpectedly, they snapped straight and he looked
up with a grin.
"I got it! 329! That's it! I'm sure."
Xander grabbed the boy's face in both his hands and he kissed his friend's lips.
"Good job. Let's go."
With rejoined hands, together they hurried around to the side of the
building and into the single door that led to the tri-level staircase and
they darted up, taking the steps two at a time. It was all Joey could do
to keep up as his mind muddled with thoughts of '329? 239?'
When they counted down the door markers, Xander found the right one
quickly. Standing outside, he took a moment to make sure his shirt was
tucked in and unbuttoned to display his perfect body to it's best light.
He then did what he could to make Joey presentable.
"Keep it together tonight Joe. We both need this money, yeah?"
Joey stood up as straight as possible and beamed his best smile.
"It's you and me Buddy. Let's go in the and blow their sock off and if we
can't do that, let's just blow them!"
Xander felt better. He laughed at the pathetic joke, tipped down his cowboy
hat and knocked on the door.
Within seconds, the door swung open and a cloud of thick,csweet marijuana
smoke floated out filling the hallway and Xander's nose. He grinned at the
short, dark skinned foreigner and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops.
"Well, well. I reckon this must be the place. You gents orders some
The owner of the fat doobie whooped and turned to his companions, shouting
"Da boy fucks is here. Come in. Come in."
So, they did.
By midnight, the party was in full swing. The coke was mirrored out in
lines on the coffee table and the expensive booze was siting around in
half empty bottles to be shared and swilled by any one who wanted.
The room had turned out to be a two room suite. A large living room, a
separate bedroom and a small bath. Plenty of room to move and lots of
floor to stretch out on.
None of the Columbian's wanted to give their names, although they took
great pleasure in saying the boy's. Like small pieces of hard, sweet candy,
the words, Sander and yoey would roll off their tongues in their deep
For Joey and Xander that was just fine. Names were unimportant and for
men like these, identification could be a bit of information that neither needed
to take away with them in the morning.
The biggest man, the one Xander now thought of as Curly, because of his
tight kinky hair, had staked claim on Xander along with the chunky one he
tagged, Slick. The other two were concentrating their time on Joey who
was more interested in the chemical party favors.
The party was in full swing.