Chapter Text
‘Order’s up!’ Frank yells through the window, before taking a sip from his stale coffee. But it’s the only thing that keeps him up.
He had to run to the diner straight from his other job, and didn’t get any sleep. He’s two hundred dollars short on rent, so he needs all the extra hours he can get. His back hurts, but he has no choice. ‘You were out drinking last night, Frankie?’ Marco, the other cook, asks. Frank appreciates the concern, but he’s fine.
He shakes his head. ‘Just tired,’ he says, struggling with the worst hangover ever. ‘I can’t remember when was the last time I slept.’
‘You need to take some time off.’
‘I can’t.’
He has a family to take care of. A wife who barely puts up with him, and a kid who means the world to him, and he has no idea the kind of shit he has to do to put a roof over him. But he’s the only reason Frank is still alive today, so he’d do it again.
If it wasn’t for his son, Frank would have off himself a long time ago. ‘How’s Charlie?’ Marco asks as Frank puts his hoodie back on, ready to go home.
‘He’s great. He’s obsessed with puppies now, and he wants ten.’ He can’t help smiling at the thought of little Charlie jumping around and asking him to get him all the puppies. ‘He can’t even count to ten.’
‘Just like his father.’
Frank laughs it off, and walks out. it’s starting to get cold, so he grabs a cigarette to warm up as he walks down the street to the train station. He just wants to go to bed, but his day isn’t over just yet.
It’s barely ten p.m. on a Friday, which means bars and clubs in the city are just starting to get busy. Which means, Frank can make those two hundred bucks in a couple hours, and maybe even have money to buy Charlie a little gift.
‘Same as usual?’ Anthony, the bartender and one of his closest friends, asks. Frank just nods, and Anthony hands him the cheapest beer they have. it’s awful, but it’ll get him drunk faster. Also, it’s not like he has any money to buy something else. ‘I didn’t think I’d see you tonight.’
‘Are you kidding me? It’s Friday night.’ A year ago, when Anthony suggested this new “job” to him, Frank wasn’t so sure about it. Even when he promised he could make a few hundred dollars a night. So he only does it when he really needs the money. He finishes his beer and leaves a twenty on the counter for Anthony, who hands him another beer right away.
‘On the house tonight.’ Frank knows why he’s doing it, and he appreciates it. As he keeps drinking, he notices a group of friends walking in the bar, all in expensive clothes, and keeps an eye on them to try to figure out if there’s a potential costumer in the group. Unlike Anthony, who flirts with absolutely everyone, Frank prefers to be sure they like that kind of stuff. He’s already on his third beer, as more people keep coming, including a few businessmen, probably out for drinks after a long meeting, Frank doesn’t care. But they’re definitely wealthy, so Frank puts on his flirtiest face, and makes eye contact with them to see if one of them fall for it. That’s when he spots him, sitting all quiet at the bar. He’s wearing sunglasses, even though they’re inside, and his hair is all combed back.
Frank doesn’t know anything about expensive clothes or anything, but he’s clearly rich. He doesn’t talk to anyone there, and has an air of arrogance, but at the same time, Frank can’t stop looking at him. The guy knows he’s attractive. And he knows Frank is staring, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. He actually seems quite pleased.
‘Hey, there,’ someone says behind him, bringing him out of his trance. Frank can’t help being a little disappointed when it’s not the hot businessman, but an older man, around his father’s age, which is gross, but Frank needs the money, and he’s too drunk to care. He probably thinks Frank is actually flirting with him. He hates when old men flirt with him and fuck him, then promise him to give him the life he deserves so he doesn’t have to do this anymore. He hates the way they look at him, and he can’t help flinching every time they touch him. And that he could do this a couple days a week and have enough money to support his family. This isn’t the life he wanted.
‘Hey,’ Frank says, in the smoothest tone possible.
‘You need another drink?’ the man asks, pointing at the now empty beer bottle in front of Frank.
And maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but Frank appreciates that he’s taking care of him. ‘That’d be nice,’ he says.
The man orders two whiskeys, and then turns back to Frank. ‘I’m Richard, by the way,’ he says.
Frank doesn’t care about his customers’ names. He’ll probably forget by the end of the night. ‘Frank,’ he says, shaking his hand. ‘So you work in the area?’ Men like it when he pretends to be interested in his life, so he does.
‘Yeah. You?’
Frank giggles. ‘No, just drinking my life away.’
‘Oh, it can’t be that bad.’
‘You have no idea.’ Frank doesn’t know why he’s telling him, but he seems nice. He’s at least pretending to give a shit.
‘You need help with that?’
Frank doesn’t even answer. Richard takes his hand, and takes him to the restroom in the back. Frank just follows him. He knows this guy is probably married and has kids and a perfect life. Most likely in the closet his whole life, so he sleeps with men in restrooms, where nobody knows. And Frank is okay with that. He likes to keep this a secret, too.
Frank just closes his eyes, pretends he’s not even there. Which is easier when he’s this drunk. His brain shuts down and just follows his instincts. Richard’s hands are rough and clumsy, a little too cold, and Frank does his best not to flinch as they go down his ass. ‘Are you nervous, sweetheart?’ Richard asks, and Frank just lets out a little laugh, because he’s being doing this for too long. Faking it.
‘I’m okay,’ he says, and leans in to kiss him and shut him up. If he just lets him do his job –
Frank gets on his knees slowly, taking his time to undo the man’s expensive dress pants. And without thinking twice, he takes his whole member in his mouth and goes for it. It’s gross and denigrating, but it pays the rent. There’s nothing romantic about Richard grabbing him by the hair and fucking his mouth over and over, but he gave up on true love a long time ago.
So he takes it.
‘I’m gonna fuck you like –’
Frank interrupts him. ‘That’s going to cost you extra, old man.’
Richard takes a step back, and laughs, and for a moment, Frank thinks that’s it. But Richard only smiles, and takes something out of his pocket. A whole thing of bills, all rolled up. ‘Is this enough? I can throw in a couple more if you want.’
Without another word, Frank takes a condom out of his pocket, and hands it to the man, before turning around to lean on the sink. Richard doesn’t even prep him or anything, and goes straight for it. And he’s awful at it.
Like, Frank never thought he’d get a good fuck out of this. But they could at least try. And Richard isn’t. It hurts and he comes a little too fast, but again, Frank is only doing this for the money.
‘Get yourself something nice,’ Richard says, and sticks a handful of bills inside Frank’s back pocket.
Two hundred bucks. ‘Pleasure doing business with you!’ Frank yells as the man leaves the restroom. Maybe next time he won’t mind at least faking an orgasm for him. But right now, he needs a minute. He could easily go home now, since he’s all set for the night. But he needs a drink first.
‘You okay, buddy?’ Anthony asks. Frank just nods and takes a seat. Then, Anthony offers him a drink. Not his usual beer, but a cocktail.
‘What is this?’ Frank asks, confused.
‘That guy over there.’ Anthony points at the man on the other side of the bar. The attractive man he made eye contact with earlier, who raises his own glass when he sees Frank looking at him. ‘I think he’s interested in your services.’
Frank is tired and just wants to go home to see Charlie, and go to bed. but the guy already got him a drink, so he can’t just say no. So, he chugs the drink, and heads back to the restroom, making sure the guy is following him.
They go straight to the point, and no one says a word. The guy pushes him against the tile and kisses him. Just like that. No warning or anything. And he’s rough and strong, and his hands feel nice on Frank’s arms, holding him against the wall as he sticks his tongue deep down his throat.
He hears when the man’s coat falls on the floor, and after that, clothes go off. Slowly. He really takes his time with Frank, unlike Richard. He kisses every tattoo on his skin, and his hands run down his back, exploring every inch of it. And Frank can’t help it, he’s already hard.
Maybe he’s already too drunk, but he appreciates the guy at least takes him into consideration, and he’s enjoying seeing Frank squirm under him when he bites his neck. And he just lets him fuck him into oblivion.
‘You were so good, dear,’ the man says once they’ve both come, and gets up to clean himself and put his clothes back on. Frank stops himself from asking his name, because he’s just a customer. Even if he fucked him so good, Frank is the one who should be paying him. He can’t stop smiling, watching him.
‘You were good, too,’ he says, not really thinking what comes out of his mouth.
‘You probably say that to everyone.’
‘Not really,’ Frank responds with a giggle, and gets up too.
‘How much I owe you?’ Frank is about to say whatever you want, honey, when the man gets his wallet out, and puts a cigarette between his lips, before he hands him some cash. Five hundred dollars.
Frank doesn’t know what to say, and just looks at him.
‘What? Am I short? Are you one of those expensive ones?’ He’s already getting more cash out of his wallet, and Frank stops him.
‘This is a lot.’
‘Oh – don’t worry about it.’ And then just kisses Frank’s cheek before walking out. ‘Take care!’
Holy shit.
***
The house is quiet when he gets there after what felt the longest train ride ever.
Frank is too exhausted to walk all the way to the room, and he knows Sophia will be mad at him for getting home so late. She’ll probably yell at him that he’s cheating on her or something, and he’s just not in the mood. It’s not like they actually love each other anyway.
He’s taking off his shoes, getting ready to sleep on the couch, when he hears a door, followed by tiny footsteps. ‘Daddy!!’ His toddler comes running to him, wearing his Superman pajamas and his eyes only half open. Frank takes him in his arms and kisses his forehead. He’d do anything for him.