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Juri

I had feared that the days would drag on like thick mucus, but as soon as Luca left for his family celebration and I set up an account on a sex chat, time flew by.

It was a first for me to offer my services online, but after the first client, I was already confident I’d find my way here in no time.

The only downside was that my left hand was unusable.

Jerking off with my right hand was quite a hassle.

I enjoyed every minute I had the apartment to myself.

I didn’t even care that I was spending Christmas alone.

Noé had offered to spend the evening at his new place with Alex and his mother, but I would have probably done him a bigger favor than myself.

I poured myself a whiskey from the bar and provided company to a lonely soul online—for which I got paid.

After I finished my job, I sat with my back against the bedroom door, hung the scarf tied into a noose on the doorknob, and choked myself until sparks flew in my brain from the high.

As Christmas passed and Luca was mostly home, the daily routine became a bit trickier.

I felt watched, which made me quite nervous.

But ultimately, I had to admit that it wasn’t just Luca’s presence that almost drove me up the wall.

In fact, I was going through some kind of withdrawal, and I didn’t even know exactly what my body was craving.

Maybe it was the drugs I had been steadily consuming.

Or perhaps it was the lack of sex; my body was accustomed to being active at least five to six times a week.

The online sex chat couldn’t make up for that.

And the longer I spent around Luca, the more sexually frustrated I became.

But he seemed to be the epitome of willpower—or perhaps oblivious to my advances.

I wouldn’t have minded having sex with him. With each passing day, I warmed up more and more to that idea. When Luca guided me to the bathroom and I subtly, yet quite obviously, offered myself to him, he just ignored me.

The guy was incredibly attractive and knew exactly how to frustrate me, but I had to accept the fact that he wasn’t interested in me.

I wasn’t his type. What had happened at Exil was probably a one-time occurrence.

Perhaps he wasn’t as gay as he claimed to be because anyone else—and I was certain of this—would have made a move by now.

Damn it! I had plenty of experience with that.

But Luca seemed immune to me, which was hard to believe.

He behaved normally toward me, became increasingly approachable, and seemed less withdrawn.

But the longer I spent with him, the more I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a loner.

He spent more time in his room than I had expected.

Of course, he had a final project he was working on, but as he told me on Sunday, he also played video games.

“I need that to unwind. Sometimes everything just gets too much for me, and I’m completely overwhelmed so that’s my way of escaping.”

“Isn’t it the video games that overwhelm you?” I asked cautiously.

Luca laughed. “I don’t play shooters, if that’s what you mean. I’m more into action-adventure games like Red Dead Redemption or Assassin’s Creed . And of course, GTA —who isn’t?”

“I don’t know any of them.”

“As I said, once your hand is back in action, I’ll show you.”

On Wednesday, I sat on my chair by the window and smoked a cigarette while watching Luca load the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. I was sure the guy had no idea how attractive he was—and how peculiar. I had never met anyone like him.

Exactly one week had passed since he threw me down the stairs with martial force. Since then, he had truly taken good care of me. However, I couldn’t escape the feeling that there was an insurmountable gap between us.

Yes, we spent time together, watched movies, and chatted about all sorts of things.

But our conversations never went deep. I knew I was the one who let him believe I was a chef.

Moreover, he didn’t need to be a genius to know why I ended up staying with him over Christmas.

I was sure he had drawn his own conclusions about my family, but polite as he was, he didn’t ask any questions about it.

Perhaps this was partly why there was a distance between us.

He was a closed book to me. I knew nothing about him. Not even whether he had enjoyed our encounter in the back room. Normally, I had a sense of whether my clients were happy, but he was more closed off in that regard. And he wasn’t even a client!

Part of me wanted to shove the truth about my job in his face just to see how Luca would react. But each time, this feeling of shame overwhelmed me and held me back.

Luca wasn’t a little kid anymore, still believing in Santa Claus.

He would surely have coped with it. It was me who panicked and tried to distract myself with the sex chat or the photo blog.

My fear of how Luca would look at me afterward was too great, so I decided to wait until I was no longer dependent on his help.

Despite the distance between us, I actually liked the way he looked at me.

And I enjoyed watching him. The guy was even hot when he loaded the dishwasher.

A strand of hair fell on his face as he bent down to place the plates on the rack.

Since I’d been living here, he had already gone to training several times.

I would have liked to know what it looked like under his white sweater.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t been granted that sight at Exil.

I took a drag on the cigarette, exhaled the smoke into the cold winter air, and wondered why all this was bothering me so much.

After all, he shouldn’t matter to me. I was just passing time here, and soon our paths would diverge once more.

Obviously, I had fulfilled my role as muse, although I was clueless about his concept.

Luca closed the dishwasher and brushed the strand of hair from his forehead with his forearm. As he walked over to the sink, he washed his hands.

“Have you made any progress on your project?” I asked, tapping the ash off.

Luca grimaced. “Touchy subject you’re bringing up there.”

That alone made me weak, and I tried not to gawk at him. So, I acted like I didn’t care and took another drag of my cigarette. “So, you have given up?”

He approached the open window where I was and also lit a cigarette. “Given up? I wish I could. I have to go through with it. Looks like I’ll have to pull something out of thin air.”

“That doesn’t sound very optimistic.”

“Ha! No, you’re right about that. And not very creative either. Fuck … I wanted to do something creative. Like you!”

My eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged and nodded toward the laptop behind me. “Well, you take photos, don’t you?”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve seen you. You’re trying all sorts of things with your phone. And you’ve been reading that photography blog all the time.”

For a moment, I just stared at him. He had caught me, and I hadn’t even noticed. “Why are you …?”

“You’ve taken photos of me too,” he said, winking at me.

“They were just test shots,” I justified.

“No problem. Doesn’t bother me. I know I’m not photogenic.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. The guy had no idea!

“Maybe you’ll show them to me someday.”

I could only clear my throat at that. Unfortunately, my cigarette had burned down, so I stubbed it out in the ashtray and slid back on the chair toward the table. Meanwhile, Luca grinned at me and finished his cigarette.

“What?” I asked grumpily as I turned back to the screen.

“Nothing.”

“Are you teasing me about that now?”

“No!” he exclaimed. “Not at all. I think it’s cool that you found something to pass the time here. Must be tough being stuck here.”

I could only nod.

“I have to go soon,” he said, putting out the cigarette. “Gothic Party.”

At that moment, there was a rattle at the entrance door, and shortly after, Hector entered the apartment.

Fuck …

“Oh! Hello!” he said, stopping in the hallway.

Luca greeted him. “Hi. What are you doing here? I thought you were in the mountains.”

Hector set down his bag and hung his coat in the closet. “I’m here for just a few days. My family is still there. I have some work here.”

With a nod, Luca made his way to his room. “I have to go to the club.”

Hector stood there for a moment, and our eyes met. I only managed a weak hello, while he pursed his lips in acknowledgment. He then disappeared down the hallway, and shortly after, I heard a door open—I had no idea if it was his office or bedroom.

This isn’t good. What does he want here? To work? I want to work too!

“So, then,” Luca said, buttoning his jacket as he emerged from his room. “Do you need anything else? Well, now that Hector is here, you could also ask him if you need anything.”

Internally, I shook my head. He really had no clue.

“See you later!” With a raised hand, Luca left the apartment.

I don’t know why my heart suddenly started racing. Actually, I did know. But that couldn’t be, could it? Hector had been a regular customer for four years now, but why was seeing him throwing me off so much? I knew he was a decent guy.

And here I am, sitting in his apartment, in sweatpants and a hoodie.

The image of the groomed young man he had of me was clearly shattered. I had intended to work, but what was I supposed to do now? Read? Watch a movie?

Fuck!

I nervously shifted around on the chair and cursed the situation I was trapped in.

My foot was already feeling a bit better, but nowhere near well enough to put weight on it, yet I felt an urge within me to move.

Annoyed, I pushed myself up against the backrest and hopped the chair back toward the table.

An icy wind blew in as I opened the patio door and lit a cigarette.

The need for a drink awakened in me, and I wistfully looked over to the other side of the living room where the minibar was.

Maybe I’ll settle for a beer for now.

They were in the fridge, just three feet away from me. By now, my hand had also recovered, so I could easily hold onto the window, lean back, and grab a beer from the fridge.

It was this inner nervousness that was getting to me—and had been for a week now. I couldn’t shake it off with sex chats, photography, movies, alcohol, or cigarettes. It was constant and even made falling asleep difficult.

I need to find an apprenticeship.

Having an apprenticeship would have relieved some of the pressure on me. Walter, one of my clients, had assured me back then that he would write me a recommendation letter and send it by email, but with Christmas in between, it must have slipped his mind. And I didn’t want to beg too much for it.

Dread churned inside me. The idea of being stuck doing escort work for the rest of my life made my stomach twist in knots.

Damn, man! I could even go clean toilets. What difference would it make?

I leaned with my forehead against the window frame and blew out the smoke.

Once again, my situation reminded me of what scum I was.

Even all the money didn’t make a difference.

I could easily afford a hotel room for two or three weeks, but my fears of existence were too great for me to refuse Luca’s offer of compensation.

Besides, I would have had to buy a nurse right away, because even now I still couldn’t bathe alone without Luca’s help.

It was all so absurd! If I had kept at it as a callboy for two more years, I could have done a four-year apprenticeship afterward without having to work on the side. But just the thought that all my savings would be gone afterward panicked me.

Yes, I was a hustler, and I would have given everything to stop doing it.

Not because it disgusted me but because I had no future in that business.

I knew I would break down before long. It was only a matter of time before I lost control, and that scared the hell out of me.

That’s why it was all the more important for me to follow my rules.

Maximum of twice a week on hard drugs. No love. And no performance without payment.

While it wasn’t unusual for me to go a week without consuming anything—it wasn’t even difficult for me—since I couldn’t distract myself otherwise, I drank even more and nearly strangled myself almost every day.

Laboriously, I pushed the chair back to the table and sat in front of the laptop. I surfed the net for a bit and got distracted by a photo blog, which compelled me to edit a few pictures.

Since I hadn’t been able to go out for a week, I had plenty of photos of Luca and the living room. And when I was done with all of those, I resorted to older pictures I had taken of Clé and Sandro at the club.

Clé and Noé had already asked me what I was doing on New Year’s Eve, and I lamented to them that I was missing out on the most lucrative night of the year.

Clé said he would come over and bring something.

And when Noé heard about it, he said he would stop by late in the afternoon.

He probably wanted to minimize the risk of an alcohol relapse by meeting Clé.

“Dammit!” The sound of Hector’s frustrated voice startled me as he appeared around the corner, heading straight for the minibar. “Knowing you’re here makes it impossible for me to concentrate on work.”

“I’m sorry,” I said calmly. “Do you think I like it?”

Hector poured himself a cognac and turned to me. “Do you want something too?”

I just nodded and already knew what he would pour for me. Lagavulin. Then he came around the couch with the two glasses in his hand and sat down with me at the table.

“Oh, or would you rather sit on the sofa?”

“I’ve been sitting there all day,” I replied, smiling. “To be honest, I can hardly stand the living room anymore.” I took the glass gratefully and we clinked.

“What are you doing?”

It didn’t surprise me that he sounded genuinely interested. Hector had never been the type to pretend interest. Moreover, our reunion showed what a terrible actor he was. Even though I had just bathed, I felt despicable sitting in front of him now, not in a suit as usual.

“Not what I should be doing,” I admitted.

He laughed and made a grunting sound, then stared at me. “Funny how things turn out,” he said nostalgically and leaned back. “What are we going to do now?”

Good question.