Chapter Text
There was always a place like this. Every town had one. A place where you could find a quick fix or maybe a little fun for the night, all at a reasonable price. Most people were unaware of this place but if you knew the right low-lives you could be hooked up with your particular vice easily. It was a well kept secret that even the police didn't know but sometimes there were a few who found out. And none of them were particularly by-the-book trustworthy.
Jack's been cruising this part of town for quite some time now, sniffing out some of the less than savory merchandise, hoping to find the perfect catch for tonight. It proves almost difficult because things move at a different pace here. There's a lot of fast talkers and scam artists but Jack's got his head high and his mind calculating every movement. He was scouting like a cop.
He's known about this part of Raccoon City for a good three months now but hasn't once hooked up yet. Jack's biding his time for something fresh and sweet, something that hasn't been tainted by the underworld yet. But in order to get what he wants, Jack has to dig deep in uncharted territory and meddle in something that could possibly be illegal. Then again, Jack's always loved a challenge.
The streets were a little quieter tonight which meant Jack was free to pick and choose from a variety of merchandise. He walks briskly past a a couple of men dealing drugs and quite a few women and men making wolf calls in his general direction, as if to beckon him over. It isn't working in the slightest. Jack can tell what's sweet and what's spoiled and mostly everything on the menu is rotten.
By the time he reaches the end of the street Jack notices that one of the men has followed him, watching him with a smug little grin pulled tightly to one side. Jack's seen him more than once, always watching but never engaging in actual business. Jack knows his type. This guy is the type of whore that finds out what he's dealing with first. He's cunning and dreaming up ways to outsmart his client. Jack knows better than to get tangled up with this one.
This particular prostitute is approximately in his mid-to-late twenties and has been around the block more than a ice cream truck. He dresses sharp and his hair is kept a little longer than most male prostitutes, but he's got a sense of style about him. He moves gracefully and bores his dark eyes sinfully through potential clients but none of that shit amounts to much in Jack's book. This man has been used more than the swing set at Raccoon City National Park.
"Do you want some company?" The latin man asks smoothly, arching a carefully plucked eyebrow. "Perhaps I could be of some assistance?"
Jack scoffs at the proposal.
He doesn't like the way this guy moves or talks. He's self righteous and pretentious, acting like he's just about the hottest thing the heavens ever shit out. Jack fixes him with a disinterested gaze as the latino slumps against the brick wall and crosses his arms over his chest. He's so smug it's sickening.
"I know a nice quiet place we could go for some fun," the man purrs, adding a less than innocent wink that makes Jack's stomach turn. "How 'bout it, cowboy?"
"No thanks," Jack mumbles between the hard line of his lips. He walks past the man but he's determined. The latin man puts a delicate hand against his big chest and manages to push him back a couple feet.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa... Take it easy, cowboy. No need to be rude."
"That was me being nice," Jack says flatly, slapping the man's hand away. "If you don't get out of my way I'll,show you just how rude I can be, amigo."
If this tramp was going to call Jack cowboy then Jack was going to call him amigo. Seemed fair. Jack pushed past him, shoving the prostitute slightly into the dirty brick wall.
"Do you know who you're talking to?" The man demanded, getting flustered because he was rejected. "I know people who could make your life a living hell!"
Jack smirked and shook his head, casting a gaze over his shoulder at the latin man.
"You don't want to play hard ball with me, Chachi. I'm no fun," Jack warns lazily. "Besides, my life already is a living hell. What could YOU possibly do to make it worse?"
This left the man momentarily speechless. His brain couldn't process the memo to his brain fast enough to tell him that, yes, he was talked down to and ,yes, Jack had stood him up without so much as a second glance. He was paralyzed to the spot with a dumb confused look plastered on his face as Jack walked away, leaving the prostitute to bask in his rejection. One last client for him tonight.
Jack felt quite satisfied with himself, letting a little of his pent up anger out on some low-life smooth talker but the fact that no one appealed to his particular desire still hung heavy in the cold night air. He made his way back to the main street and slouched against a wall, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he sighed up towards the stars. Why the hell was he doing this anyway? Was his life really that pathetic?
He guessed so.
Down the street a young man was in the middle of a heated argument with his "employer" that consisted of harsh whispers and rough grabs. The commotion reached Jack's ears and he scanned the area, finding the genesis of the distraction no more than fifty feet away. The older man in the big coat and hood yanked the young man roughly by the arm, bringing them face to face so he could make sure the kid got the message. It didn't look friendly.
So being the nice guy he was... Jack pushed off the wall and made his way over to the pair of arguing men. The altercation went from bad to worse when the back of the hooded man's hand flew across the young man's soft face, making a loud smack! noise that resounded down the street. It sparked a nerve or two in Jack. A beautiful face like that should never be struck that hard. He swore it made him walk faster.
"Not a single client all week!" The hooded man shouted, yanking the young prostitute by his hair, making him wince.
"I'm sorry! I swear I won't--"
"Hey!" Jack barked out, making the hooded man's head turn. The young man would've turned his head too if it weren't being pulled in a tight handful.
"Whaddya want, Stranger?" The pimp coughed out distastefully, pushing the kid away roughly by letting go of his well kept hair.
"I'm in the market. Got any merchandise?" Jack posed casually, looking the young man up and down with a predatory gaze.
"Down the street, mate. Got some good things on sale."
"I'm looking for something a little more... fresh," Jack said lowly, words drenched in sin and deviation. "Young, tight, naive..."
Each word that rolled off Jack's tongue hit the young man clear across the face, striking him harder than any slap from his pimp. Jack stared at him hungrily, licking his lips as those blue irises twinkled with fear and excitement.
"I'll take him," Jack said pointing at the young man which caused a synchronized gasp from both of them.
"Sorry, mate. But this is a rare flower that needs takin' care of," the prostitute merchant said coolly. "'Sides you couldn't afford 'im! Not enough cash, Stranger!"
The Merchant barked out a cackle as he tried to walk away with his property.
"Money's no issue. I can pay in advance." Jack pulled out a small wad of twenties and threw it at the Merchant's face, causing him to fumble for it before standing upright.
"Stranger, Stranger!" The Merchant chanted gleefully, reveling in the money the young man had just earned him. "A wise choice, mate. He's all yours!"
With a rough shove the Merchant pushed the young man forward, causing him to stumble and fall into Jack's huge chest, catching himself on hard muscles. He straighted up and looked timidly into Jack's hard face that was twisted in want and need and desire, shuddering slightly at the intensity of hunger in his eyes. The kid suddenly felt even smaller under his purchaser's scrutiny. He has half a mind to shy away from Jack but he doesn't want to take his chances with his pimp.
He needs this client.
Before the young prostitute can have any say Jack wraps a big strong hand around a slim wrist to pull his purchase close for safe keeping. The kid went to protest but the Merchant was gone, skulking off into the shadows to leave him alone with this giant of a man. Being in this particular occupation lowered his standards and he had to accept any client no matter how small or gigantic they were. As long as they paid cash up front there was no problem.
So he went with him, letting himself be pulled along not knowing where he was being taken and thinking of all the bad things that could happen. This man may have paid, and he was good for it, but for all he knew this man could be a psychopathic rapist that wanted to skin him and wear it as a jacket. His pulse was thrumming in his veins and his feet moved despite his best efforts.
"I ain't gonna kill ya," Jack informed stopping abruptly to pull the young man aside. He stuck a hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a small shiny oval. "I'm one of the good guys."
"You're a cop?" The kid asks timidly. It's the first thing he's said to Jack and he doesn't feel any different from this new information. Jack's a cop and he's a hooker but his face shows that he isn't afraid, or just doesn't care.
"Sergeant Jack Krauser, at your service," he saluted with a smirk, grabbing the kid's dainty hand to place a kiss on bony knuckles. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"L-Leon..." He squeaked out with a nervous blush.
"Lovely name for a lovely little boy," Jack mocked playfully, making Leon shake in his too tight jeans. Leon pulled his hand away.
"I'm not a little boy," Leon argued, embarrassed and nervous by this policeman in a single bound. He was so big and imposing and Leon limited his rebuttal, but at least Jack hadn't hit him where it hurt. His pride. Jack hadn't judged his lifestyle yet and he was thankful for that.
"How old are you, kid?"
"Old enough," Leon said indignantly. Jack gave him a tsk and Leon pushed out a strained sigh. "Eighteen, okay?"
"Little young don't ya think? You're in the strange part of town, kid. Could get hurt," Jack chided lightly, making the young man think of his lifestyle.
"I can handle it."
"Sure you can."
"Look, are you going to bust me or something? Because technically I haven't done anything. I haven't even agreed to this... arrangement," Leon gushed profusely, seeming to get himself cornered and pinned against a brick wall. Jack towered over him.
"Then why are you here? Why did you follow me?"
"I hardly followed, so much as been dragged."
"You're not runnin'," Jack observed, causing Leon to fumble over his words.
This was the moment where Leon's fate would be decided in his next words. Jack had paid fair and square for his company and it was up to Leon to hold up his end of the bargain. Jack was giving him the option to turn around and tail it out of here but then there was Leon's conscience. Leon didn't exactly hold his occupation in high regard but Jack was a client just like anyone else. He spent good money to have Leon for the night after all.
"Should I be?" Leon's curiosity was tickled. Jack moved close to him and planted a hand on the wall next to Leon's head.
"Wanna find out?" Jack mumbled hotly into the side of Leon's head. Leon was hooked. "You can walk away right now and I'll look the other way, or you can follow me home tonight and I'll show you the best time you'll ever have."
So that was it. Leon was left with two options. He could walk away without having to worry about the Merchant getting his cut, or the consequences. But Leon hasn't had a real client yet and Jack seems straight-forward enough and he doesn't have ulterior motives, so why not? If he's going to be label-typed as a whore, why not make it official? Why not make it the truth?
"Whaddya say, kid? Night of your life? Or walk away?"
Leon bit his bottom lip, weighing his options, testing the pros and cons, but it all came down to one conclusion... Leon smirked despite himself. Why not?