Chapter 2: Sale or Rent

Kris sat on a bench down on the concrete promenade before you reached the sea. Ahead of him the waves rolled in and out over the burning sun languidly, as though the heat of the sun had made them sluggish. He was dressed in cut offs and an open white shirt. What with the heat and the boredom he was expecting business to be good. There were holiday makers in the city too and those of the right persuasion always found what they were looking for. His parents were away too, for another few weeks, almost as an added bonus.

It was early evening, with the sun still high, but Kris hadn't worked since that incredible afternoon when he'd taken in his Lion from the street. The stranger had kept his word, and stayed for dinner and a shower. Kris had woken hours later in an empty bed, feeling strangely hollow and sad that the man hadn't left a note. But he was getting low on funds and unless he made a reappearance soon his clients were bound to move on to greener pastures. Not that there was anyone as notorious as he was.

Someone rested their arms on the back of the bench.

"You doing business tonight Chilito?"

Kris looked round.

"Darren!" he leapt up and hugged the young man who returned the gesture, "What are you doing here? And yeah I'm doing business, duh, why would I be out here otherwise?" He was right, the promenade was mostly deserted, the heat coming off in waves.

The gigolo, four years older with pale skin and wavy brown hair had been a friend of his for years. Since they targeted different sections of the market, they could be easy friends, and they often met for drinks during the day.

"Where've you been? Ain't seen ya for ages. There'll be other kids moving in on your turf soon," Darren's accent shifted from normal into a smooth southern drawl that Kris found terribly attractive. He'd always thought it a shame that the other didn't swing his way, "Wondered if you'd gone and found yourself some Sugar Daddy to take care of ya."

"Not likely," Kris said with a grin, "How's business?"

"Heading your way, if I'm not severely mistaken," Darren jerked his thumb toward a rich looking suit who'd just drawn up in a blood red Mustang, "See you later maybe?" He got up, patted Kris on the shoulder and sauntered off without a backward glance. These days he knew the boy could take care of himself.

The man in the Mustang waved him over.

Standard BJ. Kris got in and the suit drove around to a back alley with a dead end. Kneeling in the foot well, Kris sucked him off under the cover of the heavily tinted windows. It wasn't a bad time, the suit was quite handsome and he had a fairly decent package, but Kris found it empty, having the man's hands in the back of his hair, fucking his face. He finished up quick, got paid, and went back to his bench.

Potentials came and went, but Kris took none of them. Everyone in the city was as hot and bored as he was. Well, maybe none of them were quite as hot as he was, coated in sweat, with his shirt open to show of soft tanned skin and firm muscles along his abdomen. He let the money slide, his thoughts chasing after his lion-like stranger. About nine, when the sun was nothing but a streak of blood on the seaward horizon, a big white saloon pulled up and the driver waved to Kris.

He went over, cool as anything and leant down, arms on the drivers window frame. He ducked his head to look inside and there were two more guys in the back.

"Sorry fellas," he said is his honey and silk voice, "I only do one on one's..." He started to back off, but not fast enough and the man in the driver's seat grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him close to car, pressing the blade of a small but sharp knife against the tender unmarked skin of his throat. Kris held his breath, too scared to move. Things like this had happened before, but usually it had been more crowded and so idiots like this weren't as likely to pull this stunt.

"Get him in the back," growled the driver. One of the guys got out and came around, grabbing Kris roughly and passed a hand over the curve of his rear.

"He's not for hire," said a deep growling voice behind him and the man was pulled off Kris and thrown against the car. A hand he didn't see freed him from the knife and the grip round his neck. The car window rolled up and the saloon pulled off. Kris dared to turn around and see if he had been saved or damned. People usually wanted rewards for stunts like that.

There stood his Lion, but looking so different and so unlike the Lion Kris knew he didn't recognise him for a moment. Sharp cut black suit, white shirt, blue tie, lone mane braided back out of the way. He pushed three hundred bucks into Kris's hand.

"That should cover what you lost." And he turned and began to walk away.

In shock Kris stood and watched his receding back, hardly daring to believe his eyes.

"Lion?"

The big man with his powerful shoulders stopped and turned.

"Tiger," he smiled broadly, spreading his arms, "I thought you might have forgotten me," Kris leapt toward him and was enveloped in a tight embrace, "I certainly didn't forget you my little cat."

They walked together down the pier, weaving amongst the happy couples and families going home with their kids now it was evening. Teenagers hung around the rides, most upbeat among the smattering of mopey looking goths. Lion bought ice creams and Kris was about halfway through his, looking out over the star and streetlamp lit sea before he got up the courage to ask the question that had been bugging him all evening.

"Is this a date?"

"What do you want it to be?" was the smooth rejoinder. Kris reached up and touched one of the golden locks that tumbled over Lion's forehead.

"I don't know. I don't really know anything about you."

The stranger who was not a stranger smiled a broad predatory grin.

"I know all I need to know about you already, but I'm willing to be explored."

They walked to Kris's apartment in silence, ignoring all the glances they received, up the silent stairs to the top floor. The condo was little changed since the last time Lion had been there, dark and cool with the air-con on full. Within seconds there was music, good old fashioned rock and roll playing on the stereo all over the condo. Kris led him up to his bedroom, leaving the door open, tugging him along by one paw as though the other didn't know the way. Gently he pushed Lion down onto the bed and straddled him neatly. His hands began unthreading the long braid until he could run his fingers through the silky golden mass.