Chapter Text
The bass of the bar sound system seemed to vibrate through Matthías’ bones, but it was far preferable to the silence he had been experiencing outside. It was a Saturday night, things had never been so slow, and all his pretending not to be interested was doing little to interest the men who were pulling up in the nearby parking lot. He had three guys tonight and one woman who wanted things he wasn’t sure he would ever forget. She paid better though so who was he to judge?
“Usual?”
“Mhm.” He tossed a few dollars onto the bar, and the bartender slid over the double shot of whiskey.
“Working?”
Matthías gave him an irritated look. What about his tight outfit said anything other than ‘desperate rent boy seeks a few bucks for a quick fuck’? “Trying to.”
“It’s still early,” the man tried with a pasted-on very fake smile.
One more shot, just for the warmth the burn brought, and he’d go back outside. The full glass clinked with the empty one. “Thanks.”
“Well, I won’t run you off. Just avoid the cops, okay?”
Matthías stood up and stretched, noticing the look from further down the bar. Potential new friend? Some blond guy was already talking to him though so he chalked it up to a missed opportunity and shrugged at the bartender. “Avoid the cops? They’re my best customers.” He pushed open the door and went outside.
The chair hit the wall and shattered quickly, followed by another from the same set. Wood splintered across the bar floor, and glass from the beer mugs that had been on the table crunched underfoot.
One insult was all it had taken to break the thin layer of resolve that Klemens had that evening, and since smoking was banned in bars, he had replaced his need to extinguish a cigarette in the guy’s eye with a desire for destruction.
“What is your fucking problem?” The man shouted, half hiding behind the guy he had come with. His bravado had been in the chair that Klemens had chucked across the room.
“Do you want to join the chair?”
In a cacophony of noise and arguing Klemens found himself sitting on the dirty sidewalk outside the bar amongst the half-smoked cigarettes, spilled beer and puddles of sick.
“You can come back in when you settle down.” The bouncer said before he went back inside, and Klemens rolled his eyes. Like he wanted to go back inside that shit hole where the beautiful alcohol was.
“Smooth.” A voice said from the side of the building, “If you keep sitting on the ground, you’re going to catch something.”
“Fuck you,” the blond seethed.
“Not for free, you’re not.”
What did that mean? Is that what it meant? Some guy had accused him of being a sex worker in the bar and now an actual sex worker was offering his services?
Klemens eyed this guy, who extended his hand and coughed out a laugh. “People pay to fuck you?”
Matthías didn’t flinch or even bat an eyelash before he nodded. “Sometimes, most of the time, I fuck them.”
He couldn’t; no, wouldn’t believe it, this guy in what was clearly too tight fake leather got guys to part with their hard-earned money for a quick fuck in their car? With him? What was so special about him? What talents were wrapped up in that… was that a corset? Interesting. He wouldn’t say he wasn’t intrigued; after all, he had had enough alcohol tonight that anyone was intriguing and the guy’s willingness to fuck or be fucked when he was sat on the most disgusting sidewalk in the world was a good sign.
Matthías patiently waited for the other guy to get up and he considered helping him up, but for now, he kept his distance. “How much?” He asked, pulling himself first onto his knees and then onto his feet. He wiped his hands on the thighs of his pants. He swayed slightly and the guy held out a hand to steady him. “How much?” Klemens repeated.
“Step into my office.”
“This is an alleyway. A gross alleyway. This isn’t an office at all.”
“And you’re drunk,” Matthías quipped as Klemens leaned against the wall. “Not a sober human being at all.” The bar's sound seemed to seep through the brick, and he watched Klemens gently nodding at the bass that wove its magic around them. It was a heady song and Matthías had to consciously remind himself not to get drawn into it. The warmth inside the bar was always appealing. “Fifty for a blowjob, hundred to fuck.”
“Dollars?” Klemens laughed, but even as he was laughing, he dug out his wallet. “Does your pimp get part of this?”
Matthías didn’t flinch, he gave a little shrug instead. If Klemens had been sober he would have seen the pinched expression on the other man’s face and asked him a softer question. Instead, Matthías bit back a response, covering his response was irritation. “Do you care?”
No, he didn’t. He picked out a splinter from his finger from the chair and pointed a little further down the alley where there was a space behind the dumpsters. It looked clean enough and gave a decent amount of coverage from the passersby on the street. If cops went by they wouldn’t see them.
“You’ve done this before.”
Klemens handed him the money and rolled his eyes, not waiting for another response before he started walking down to where he pointed. Matthías quickly counted it and tucked it away. “Do you care?” Klemens repeated the words to the other man, and Matthías couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Fair.”
“I better not freeze my dick off out here.”
The drama from this guy was interesting, and he gave the night another flavour that was always welcome. He hadn’t had a client with banter in them in quite a while, usually they were too aggressive or too passive, this blond struck balance even if he smelled more of alcohol than anything else.
“So I’m fucking you, right?” Klemens said as both men unbuckled their belts, and Matthías paused with his hands fly.
“You can, but I assumed it would be the other way around.”
“Oh. Do I scream bottom to you or something?”
“Yes. Short, blond, feminine, you look flexible.” The smile on his lips was everything Klemens needed for the fire to reignite in his chest from the argument in the bar, but instead, it simmered. The bastard was charismatic, and he thought that probably helped him in his line of work.
“I’m a top,” Klemens stated.
“Sure you are.”
“Fuck you, I am.”
“Whatever you say, you’re paying dear. If you want to be the rough top, I can play that game.”
He had this quiet confidence that put Klemens’ teeth on edge but also interested him. He wanted to fuck the smile off his face but not having to do the work, not having to give a shit about what he was doing, was infinitely more preferable. “Okay, I’ll bottom.”
A hum of amusement and maybe arousal. “C’mere.” Matthías’s voice had gotten a little quieter, a little softer and Klemens found himself releasing a breath that had been caught up in his chest. He was in an alleyway, ready to get fucked by a guy with bad dress sense who had just appeared out of the shadows like some creature of the night, and he felt… relaxed.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
“Put this on me.”
Klemens looked at the silver foil packet, and although every snarky comment came to mind, he just gave a quick nod and took the condom. The smirk on Matthías’ lips didn’t escape him, but he found it made sense. There had been a little battle of sorts, and he had lost. Or had he lost? He was getting fucked, and the money he used to pay for the guy’s services had been the reason he had started the fight in the bar in the first place. So much easier to grab a wallet when people are focused on the chair breaking. Free money meant essentially free sex.
He dropped to his knees on the cardboard box Matthías had backed them up to, one of the only dry things in this alley and Klemens smoothed the condom down. The guy wasn’t too big or wide, it might not hurt that much and it even might feel good. He hadn’t had sex in a while, let alone topping and bottoming. Who had been the last? Andrean?
There was a pause between songs inside, and Klemens felt every second of silence with only his breathing in his ears and the breathing above him as Matthías waited for him to complete the task. When he was finished, sitting back on his heels to look up at him, Matthías grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up, dragging his hand through his hair and roughly pressing him face-first against the building. He let out a long, slow breath into his ear and Klemens hated the fact that his entire body shivered. Must have been the weather.
“Never heard of foreplay?” Klemens said, he couldn’t help himself, and a snicker sounded loud in his ear along with another controlled breath. The hand on his shoulder drifted to the back of his neck and kneaded it, drawing out the knots in the muscles and smoothing the little worries that were eating him up on the inside. A warm body pressed against his back with cold stripes of leather that were still chilled from the early fall temperatures felt nice.
“If you want it, just say, I can’t read your mind.”
“Please.” He hated how his voice cracked as more and more alcohol was processed in his system, the earlier aggression starting to drift towards a more subdued feeling. He cursed under his breath and then pushed his hips back towards the other man, who hummed his approval at the offering. The hand on his neck tightened for a moment in what to Klemens seemed like a strange sort of praise.
“Niceness will get you everywhere,” Matthías said, and his voice was now far more sultry, low and dark like a peaty scotch rather than a bright and sarcastic vodka from before. The hand on the back of his neck stayed put, but Klemens groaned as the other hand wrapped around his cock and gave a few experimental pulls. His grip was slightly calloused on the fingertips but he didn’t have the same roughness that Klemens’ hands had. Did he work with his hands, usually? “Like this?”
Suddenly Klemens understood what others saw in this guy, why they paid him to fuck in their cars. He seemed to ooze attraction and while doing what he wanted was part of the job, Klemens found himself ready to say ‘whatever you want,’ if he asked what Klemens wanted to do next. His mind was drifting and Matthías repeated himself. “Does this feel good?” This time lower and softer.
“Yup,” Klemens stuttered as he closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the wall. He was vaguely aware of the gum near him on the wall, the scrawls of people who were here before and the stains from people who had stumbled down the alley to take a piss before they stumbled home, and he didn’t care about any of them.
Spit-soaked fingers pushed against his hole, taking their time even when Klemens rocked his hips back and tried to demand more. It was kind of the other man to take his time and give him time to prepare him but Klemens was sure he would explode out of irritation, lust, and need. He wasn’t delicate, he didn’t need to be treated this way, but the alcohol flowing through his system calmed him. Why rush? Why not take the time to enjoy this before he had to stumble home to an empty house?
“Sorry,” he mumbled as the first finger pushed inside, and Klemens groaned. “About being a dick.”
Matthías smiled behind him and pressed another finger inside. As Klemens started to apologize again, he made a shushing noise and replaced his fingers with his cock, pressing slowly and steadily while Klemens moaned against the wall. He moved his hand away from the stained side of the bar and took a different stance, one that let him get a better purchase on either side of the cardboard. Satisfied he wouldn’t slip he finally pushed into Klemens with long smooth motions moving from a different angle to try to make up for the slight height difference.
He set a rhythm and hummed as he closed his eyes and let the noises Klemens was making bring him to somewhere other than an alley, outside of a bar with a guy he had just met. This wasn’t so bad. Usually, he had to grin and bear it; this guy was cute and fit and had just enough sass inside of him that Matthías didn’t feel like he was taking pity on him. The moans were something else, digging deep inside him and making Matthías feel like he was the best person in the world at this.
Klemens soon picked up the rhythm and he wondered when his feet left the ground, and surely they were off the ground because he felt taller. He felt so full and sure and this guy’s cock just fit right. Breathing heavy and slightly out of sync thanks to the slower song being played in the club, he closed his eyes and let the rough surface of the wall grate against his cheek. It hurts so good… huh. He understood that phrase suddenly.
“Told you, you were a bottom,” Matthías said between thrusts clenching a hand in hair and pulling the blond’s hair back. “I can see these things.”
“Yes!” He agreed, “fuck, harder, please,” he gasped as his hand wrapped around his cock. “Just to the - “ Matthías shifted before Klemens could say which way, and he came undone against the wall, a real professional, he thought wryly, adding another stain to the already dirt and piss-caked wall. He collapsed against it, the pulsing in his body spreading to every nerve and twitching every muscle.
Matthías came a few moments later from the thrashing and twitching beneath him, and it surprised him because there was no reason to fake it. He enjoyed that, he wanted more of that, and as he took a step back and pulled off the condom, he had to shake his head. He must be tired.
“So, uh,” Klemens tried as he pulled up his trousers and wiped his face with his sleeve. He still hadn’t caught his breath. “Do you usually work here or? I don’t usually come to this bar.”
“Yeah, on the weekends. Why?”
Klemens pressed another twenty into Matthías’ hand, who looked surprised but took it without any protest. “I’d like to do this again, with the money, of course.” He knew he sounded nothing like the bastard that got thrown out of the club, and he would get that back if he had to. “Fuck, forget it, I’m being an idiot. I’m drunk.”
“I’ll be here,” Matthías said a little quieter, trying to mirror Klemens’ softer approach but knew he had to find at least one more person if he wanted to make enough to make his manager happy. “Two hundred, we can move to a motel room down the street, spend a bit more time together.” That sounded too friendly. “You can fuck me.” Better.
“What about three hundred? What can that get me?”
“Let me grab my phone, and I’ll show you.”