Title: Working Class Cinderella(1/?)
Author: Lore Krajsman
Rating: NC 17
Summary: Teaching came naturally to Liam Angel, and William had lessons that needed to be learned.
One hand moved over another, soothing a shaking body. There was finally fear in those baby blues. Eyes marred with arrogance and spite when the other had entered the room. The boy was bad, they always were, all of them, chewing gum in class, playing their loud music, running in the hallways, when they even came to school.
And it was up to him to teach them manners.
Blue Eyes dared to look up; Liam nearly growled and ordered him to bend over the desk. It was cleaner than the bed, or any other part of the dark and damn room. He'd cleaned it as soon as he came in, using napkins that he bought especially for situations like this. It was a habit, coming in, taking some tools and cleaning the desk until you could eat from it.
The boy hesitated for only a second and then Liam grabbed his back, pushing it down, until his face was lying on the desk, left cheek up. His hand slapped down on that tight little ass. Buffered by the boy's jeans, he pulled them down. There was no further underwear to stop him. Three more slaps followed one another in rapid succession. The boy remained sullen and silent.
Liam bent over him, his hands brushing through bleached blond curls, feeling cheekbones sharp as a knife.
Such a pretty boy. There should be some way a pretty boy like that could pay for his insolence, pay for all the little brats that made his life hell, day in day out.
Liam rubbed his cock through his own pants.
He finally allowed himself to softly caress the boy's round buttocks, feeling them, opening him up.
To make him pay...
He stopped himself, knowing it was wrong, so wrong. The boy looked up, quickly turning away when he saw the glare on his face. It was like the ring on his finger clenched around his flesh.
Wrong, it blurted as if in an alarm that no one but him could hear.
To have and to hold, to love and to care, even if he was more likely to touch his dog than the mother of his children.
Liam Angel threw up his arms and left, throwing the money on the bed. He couldn't. This was wrong; he was a married man for crying out loud.
"Same time next week," he muttered before running away. Why couldn't he just give this up?
William stayed behind, his hands still on the desk. He stared up in confusion. Not that he minded, much. He glanced at the door. Chill set on his legs as the blood flowed away again and what little warmth the others hands had brought faded like a bad memory.
The schoolteacher was one of the weirdest Johns he'd had in a while. Sometimes he'd be one of the scariest and sometimes the poof would run off all hot and bothered and blaming himself for being that way. And then of course the next time he'd be so soiled by guilt that he'd become even scarier.
He grabbed his pants and tightened up his belt before sitting down on the bed and counting his money. Forty percent for Donnie, and the rest... A smile grew on his lips.
He winced a bit as he got up, it was easier now than it was sometimes, when he wasn't feeling like someone ripped him open with a hot poker. He remembered his first time with Donnie, all shy and bothered, ashamed of himself and unsure what to say. He'd almost felt insulted when Donnie told him he could make a living with it.
It had taken his mother falling ill to get him to actually agree.
God he hated himself for that, begging Donnie to give him a chance.
He passed by a black SUV as he left, noticing a child carrier in the back, a Mickey picture on one of the windows. Just… his John sitting there, staring at the steering wheel as if his world was crumbling.
William knew he should just look away, ignore the man, that's probably what he wanted. But the man looked sad as he sat there. A weird sense of remorse filled him at the thought that he was part of what the other felt guilty about.
"Hey you ok?"
The John looked at him in revulsion and William backed off, He knew better than to tempt the fates.
Or he should as his feet didn't seem to want to move.
"Do you want a ride?" the John suddenly asked. William knew he should say no, the other had already had his ride, he'd paid for it, and damn well at that, since he'd left before his engine started running. But instead he just nodded and got into the car.
Liam had to remind himself to keep breathing. He definitely wasn't looking to the passenger's side of the car. He wasn't looking at Blondie as he tapped his black painted nails on the door frame. He didn't see the boy's breath form a steamy condense on the glass, he didn't follow those fingers from the back of his eyes as the other drew something on the fogged up window.
No, instead he kept his eyes dead set on the rear view mirror.
"Look uh, do you mind, I have to pick something up at home first. I'll take you wherever you want afterwards…"
He wasn't even sure why he didn't just do it the other way around. It would be easier at the least.
Blue eyes kept focussed on the window and Liam took that as an agreement.
He looked even younger now than he'd done in the motel room. Just a kid.
What kind of a monster was he, that he could ever feel himself going hard over someone that looked barely older than his own students. But then, that's why he'd picked this particular whore in the first place.
Whore, prostitute, working girl, chippy, cruise, floozy,slut, tart … he couldn't forget that's what the boy was.
And yet, despite all that, he just felt this urgent need to take the boy home with him.
Whether it was to offer him a warm meal, or to fuck him in the comfort of his own bed, he wasn't quite sure.
There was something strangely odd about following the older man into his house. There was a reason Donnie told all of them to never ever go with the John, there were plenty of Jeffrey Dahmers out there, no need to make it even easier on them. And yet here he was.
He kept his hands in his pockets, just following the other as he went in; refusing to look at the toys littering the hallway, refusing to look at the pretty pictures on the wall. A beautiful woman, long blond hair, two children, a teenager and a baby. He damn near stumbled over a toy truck and the John grabbed him before he fell.
William quickly stared away.
"Thank god you're here."
The same blonde from the portraits stared at them from the door, a baby in her arms and an angry glare in her eyes.
"Where have you been? What?"
"I was just giving…"
"William" Will quickly said.
"William a ride home from school. Just had to come pick up the grocery list first."
"Do you want me to believe that Liam. Do you think I'm that stupid?"
"Well, you expect me to believe that Dru's mine, so who knows."
And the angrier their fight got, the more William wanted to just disappear in the walls. To just pretend he wasn't here, even being at his mother's side in the home was better than this. Sure, she'd be screaming at him, demanding who he was, and what he was doing in her room. But at least it was family.
William closed his eyes and tried not to flashbacks to his father and mothers fights. The ones they'd had before dad died. Hiding under the table. They never got violent. Not his father, ever. But the words stung more brutal than a set of broken dishes ever could.
Liam finally stormed out through the front door and William stood there stunned before racing after him. He wished he could sink in the ground. But he was sure that the blonde would dig him out again, even only to kill him herself.