A New Face

He watched as the sun set, and the streets seemed to come to life with a whole new breath. Whores and dealers alike replaced the usual bustle, and car horns seemed to gain a new purpose other than accentuating obscenities from their drivers... well, maybe that hadn't changed, but at least now it was directed at someone other than drivers.

He had changed clothes, and was sitting in a small cafe, waiting to see the scenery change before joining those selling themselves on the street corner. He was only sixteen, and in he freshly cut cutoff jeans, heeled brown boots, fishnets, and little white vest, he was quite a treat. He'd never shown off so much skin in his life, and the heels were awkward for him at best, but in some sick way... the look really did show off his body. He was just filling out, slender but strong, if not a little underfed by now. Still young enough to be a touch feminine, and his shoulder length honey blond hair helped. His large gray-blue eyes seemed to flicker between fear and determination as he stepped out of the cafe, his overstuffed bag slung over his shoulder as he strutted to the nearest unclaimed corner.

The heels changed the way he walked, showing off his long legs and round ass, and the sway seemed to come naturally to him. He watched what the others did, mimicking lewd hand gestures without knowing what they meant, and flirting the best he could. He was getting a lot more attention than he had expected- perhaps because it was obvious he was new. Plenty of creeps were interested in breaking in a new whore.

The BMW-5's engine roared to life as it bolted down the street, away from the Law Offices of Stebleton, Carlos & King. Damien King, a 20 year old college student had just left the Law Offices where he worked for his father, James King, a powerful attorney in the city. As he flew through the streets, avoiding all of the red lights he could, he took in the surroundings. He usually was home by now, and didn't generally get a chance to see the night life in the city. Diners, bars, and clubs were open with rich guests entering them. It was a nice view; and he knew that one day he'd be successful enough to spend his evenings this way, but right now, he had to get home and cram some studying for his final exams.

As he approached Main street and Market, sirens and lights filled the air. A firetruck pulled beside him and slowed to a halt, stopping near the intersection. A few moments later, an ambulance and several police cars were on the scene of a three car accident. Damien looked at the scene and then his gold Rolex: 9:47 P.M. “Crap” he muttered. He wasn't going to get home for hours now that he was stuck waiting for this accident scene to be cleared up.

The alley perpendicular to him caught his eye. It was dark, gloomy, and sat between a Sub Shop and a Closed Pizza Parlor. The north-side didn't have too many closed buildings so it was quite interesting to see one here, next to all the wealthiest hang-outs. Damien turned into the alley and headed East. The East-side wasn't the best of places, but he had to get home; besides, what sort of trouble could there be?

As he continued through the East Side, trying to catch a good route North to go home, he hit a red light. The BMW came to a stop at the light, waiting for the phantom traffic to speed through the intersection so that he could go once the light changed. It seemed like ages. Suddenly, a woman banged on his window. She smiled and waived a bit; not looking scared or anything. He cracked his window a bit. He saw she was wearing very little clothing and had a small purse over her shoulder. “Hey baby, want a fun time? I can tune that fine body of yours if you'd like, hehe...” The cute little giggle at the end set him off a bit. He was tempted, but knew better. “No thanks, now you take care of yourself, alright”, Damien shot back?

The light turned and he continued down the street. He couldn't believe that just six blocks to the West were these prestigious places, with these sophisticated people; and right here, were the whores. As he ran into another red light, he noticed a peculiar looking whore on the corner. This specific one looked uneasy; and out of place. Just then, a car pulled up with a scruffy looking man in the drivers' seat. He rolled down the window, and leaned over. The man made some lewd comments to the young whore. The young whore looked around, and then at the car, not sure if he should go.

Damien had no control over what he was doing; or so he'd later say to himself. He ran the red light, and pulled up to the curb. He climbed out of the car, and approached the young whore. The way the teen walked in the heels tipped Damien off that this was something out of the ordinary. “Hey... you. Where are you going?” The scruffy man darted a mad glare at Damien and then called for the teen to get in the car. Damien walked closer, this time, looking at the teen. The face looked anything but normal. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought the teen were a boy.

“You can't go with him.” Damien said. The teen looked at him inquisitively; scared a little, Damien guessed. “No, sorry... can't go with you pal, now move on.” The man was about to get out of the car, but Damien had been prepared. He pulled a 9MM from his back and aimed it at the man. “Get back in the car, and drive on. NOW.” Damien watched as the man left. He looked at the teen; sure that he might have just saved the youngster. “Alright, get in my car. Lets go.”

((Please be a bit more careful not to say what my character does. n.n;
The scruffy looking man was not exactly what he had pictured as a 'John', and beyond that, maybe it was fear, or maybe it was just common sense, but something told him there was no way in hell he was getting in that car. The scruffy looking man didn't seem to like being turned down, and he became insistent, ordering him to get in the car. The blond backed away, looking up as another car pulled in and a man got out. He clutched the strap of his bag, looking between the two. The new comer was definitely more attractive, and he seemed to be pretty wealthy too, but the blond nearly ran for it at the sight of the gun. To his slight relief the other sped off, but that still left him - now very much alone - with the idiot waving a gun around, and demanding he get in the car. Scruffy might have been safer than armed, but at least this guy didn't give off the same eerie feeling.

"You aren't a cop are you?" He asked, voice clearly male if a bit soft, looking him over again. Hey, it was possible right? He hesitated, but decided it was probably not a great idea to argue with a guy holding a gun. He moved into the front seat of the costly vehicle, keeping an eye on what he supposed was his client. "I expect $50 an hour, $100 if you want anything... weird... and an hour free in the morning if you'll give me a place to sleep for the night." He gave his rates, hoping the were reasonable. He was just mimicking what he'd heard another hooker tell a John. "No groups, and nothing that can leave marks." He added, pulling his kneed to his chest, his bag settled on the floor. He glanced around the car, the guy was clearly loaded, maybe he should have asked for more.

When he'd finally decided to sell himself, it had of course been out of desperation, but he never expected to end up with total creeps or armed guys. Maybe he was just naive, but the clientele he'd watched the women on the streets pick up hadn't seemed so bad. Maybe it was because he was so young, or maybe it was just because he was a young boy in semi-drag. Either way, his clientele was definitely creepier. "Do you hire often?" He asked carefully, the man somehow didn't look like the sort that had any need to pay for love.

((My apologies; honestly, didn't realize how much I had your character do. I'll do my best to avoid that in the future. Would've made my reply a bit harder without it, but I'll do my best in future posts. Thanks for the heads up! ))

Damien walked to the passenger side and let the boy in the car. He then turned and walked toward the driver's door. He looked around first, making sure no one was looking at him. The streets had cleared the moment he pulled the gun; and that was good for him, a law clerk at a prestigious law firm. He got in the car and placed the gun on the middle console, with the safety lever face down. The safety was still on, but no one knew that but him. He looked at the boy as he turned on the car.

The boy first asked him if he was a cop. Damien knew it must have been the way he handled the situation, plus the fact that he was packing some heat.“I expect $50 an hour, $100 if you want anything... weird... and an hour free in the morning if you'll give me a place to sleep for the night,” the boy said. His voice was soft, and male, but just barely. Damien shook his head. “No groups, and nothing that can leave marks,” the boy continued. Damien had had enough.

Just as Damien was about to say something, the boy shot back, “do you hire often.” That was it, this had gone too far. “Look kid, I'm not like that. I don't want anything from you... you're not getting paid, and you're not selling yourself to me, got it?” Damien looked sharply at the boy who had put his knees near his chest and bag on the floor. “What are you doing out here? You know, you're lucky I'm not a cop.”

Silence filled the car as they continued on. Damien heading home, not sure what he was going to do. “Do you have a family... why are you...” the thought trailed off. Suddenly the car jerked to a stop. He looked at the blonde boy, and smiled. His pearly whites shimmered in stale air that filled the interior of the car. His blondish-brown hair was spiked up a bit, and accented his mature look in his black pin-striped suit.

“How rude of me... my name is Damien; Damien King. And your name is?” Damien extended his hand, requesting a handshake; most likely not what the boy had expected, Damien though to himself. He was really puzzled about what the boy was doing out on the streets like that.

He flinched when the man snapped, hugging his knees tighter to his chest. He seemed like he was used to being yelled at and lectured, if not worse. The poor kid looked like he was just waiting to feel a fist, and he didn't look the slightest bit happy about it. He looked like he was about to snap back until the man brought up his family. His lips tightened to a pursed line and he looked away, glaring out the window. When the car jerked to a stop he slid forward, putting a hand on the dash to brace himself.

He looked over, waiting for some explanation, and then it came. The guy was either a lunatic, or just bipolar. The guy had to be cray, to change faces that fast. Although he had to admit, the guy looked good when he smiled. He stared at him for a moment, "What exactly do you want from me then? First you lecture, and now you're grinning like Ronald McDonald? Oh wait, that's not right, first you cleared out a neighborhood with a gun." He paused, looking a bit apologetic as he realized how blunt that was, he took Damian's hand. "Sorry, I'm Arie... I'm sure you'll understand if I skip my last name- and if I'm a bit uneasy. This isn't exactly how I expected my evening to play out."

He seemed quick to pull away, "So what now? Are you going to police then?" He asked, wondering if that sudden charm was to try and keep him calm for the drive. "If not, and if you don't plan on paying me for my time, you might as well drop me off here so I can find someone who will. I don't know what you hoped to do by picking me up, but I can count my ribs, and park benches really don't make great beds. Unless I can makes some money, I'll freeze and starve until one or the other kills me."

Damien was bewildered. Here sat a kid who was trying to sell himself, and he most likely wasn't even 17 yet. He felt disgusted; that life could be so bad for some that even at such a young age they'd have to do something like this. The kid was obviously scared, and yet, kept an arrogant air about him. The idea of paying this boy for sex was just disgusting; wrong... illegal. Being a Law Clerk, he knew that, and he knew the consequences... besides, he... just... couldn't.

“Arie, I'm not taking you to the police. You said you wanted a place to sleep for the night, so I'm taking you back to my place... if, of course, that's alright with you.” Damien smiled again, trying to comfort Arie; trying to ease away the fear. “Sorry if I scared you earlier. I didn't mean to frighten you with the gun, it's just something I carry for the protection of myself and others... for things like tonight, and that creep.” Damien hoped he was helping ease the nerves Arie was feeling right now.

He pulled up a long driveway to what looked to be a very nice house for a family of four. Two stories, the white house had three distinct Roman columns in the front, holding up an overhang above the front porch. The yard was manicured, and the driveway was wide enough to fit about two and a half Suburbans side-by-side across it. At the 'top' of the driveway was a basketball hoop, and a half-court painted on the pavement. The side of the house was accented with flora and a path to the backyard.

The car came to a smooth stop. He turned the engine off, and sat in the silence with Arie for a moment. He opened his door and looked over at Arie... “so, you up for some pizza and a movie?” Damien was getting the feeling... he pushed it back. Right now, he felt like a big brother, and that's all he wanted to feel like... a big brother protecting and hanging out with his little brother. Damien grabbed his briefcase from the backseat and closed the doors, and stood outside of the car patiently.

Arie listened, seeming to very slowly relax a bit. He nodded at the question, a look of slight surprise passing over his features. It wasn't often people cared about what he wanted. By the time they were pulling into the driveway, Arie seemed to have gotten quite comfortable. With the warmth of the heater, and the comfortable seat, he looked like he was fighting off sleep. Not that he would let himself sleep around a stranger.

He'd also uncurled from the tight ball he'd been in, letting his long fishnet clad legs stretch out in front of him, one knee raised slightly. It wasn't really intended, but with the revealing outfit, and his position, he looked like he could easily be sitting on the front page of a dirty magazine.

He seemed to perk up though at the mention of food, "That sounds great." He said, struggling not to sound too excited over something as silly as a pizza. It was hard though, when he hadn't eaten anything more than scraps in more than two days. He carefully slipped out of the car, grabbing his bag. The house looked painfully like his own- well, the one he'd been kicked out of more than two months ago anyway.

"Do you have a family?" He asked, pausing in the driveway, looking at the very much so family styled home. "I... I wouldn't want to interfere..." He said, uneasy at the thought.

Arie was a nice boy, or seemed to be. Damien looked back at the boy. “Do you have a family”, Arie asked him. Damien could tell this boy wasn't some sort of lost, or sick, or lazy teen. He was hurting. He cared about people, and Damien wanted to do everything he could to help him out, yet, he kept getting this damn urge, this tingling... he knew the feeling. He suppressed it.

“No, I don't have a family; just more money than I can handle.” Damien hated seeming super wealthy, but the fact was, he WAS super wealthy. He had lots of money, and plenty of possessions; but he could care less about all of that. Money and materials didn't mean much to him; sure they help in life, but they weren't that important to him. That's why he was seeking his Law Degree to become a Public Defender, paid what the state/federal courts pay him and not one more penny. He didn't need it.

Damien walked toward the house. He took a jump at the hoop in the driveway. His shirt coming up slightly, revealing a tanned stomach, and his abs. He hit the ground with a thud, still on his feet. “So, you like sports,” he asked, spinning around and walking toward the house again? Damien walked to the front door, and opened it. He looked inside the dark entrance way and fiddled on the wall, looking for the switch. *FLIP*

“Well, here we are... home sweet home.”

He was relieved at Damien's answer, he could handle the all too familiar setting, but seeing the perfect family waiting would have been too much. Arie had noticed the basketball quart when they pulled in, he had been on the basketball team in school, and while he wasn't the star, he'd enjoyed it. Track had been more his style though. Arie had always been a runner. He almost missed the question though, his gaze caught by that glimpse of skin. "Hn? Ah, yeah... sort of..." He said as he snapped back to reality. "I used to play... Basket ball and track mainly... but..." He shrugged, "It's been a while."

He followed Damian inside, looking around curiously. "You have a nice home." He complimented, the words almost robotic, the polite politician's son act that he'd been playing for years surfacing. He was tense again, it felt too much like home. "Is there somewhere I can set my things?" He asked, trying to shake the feeling.

The teen was looking around the home. Damien was slightly behind him, and caught himself checking out the boy. He was wearing fishnets and the way he wore his clothing... made him attractive. Damien pushed the urge away again. It was getting harder to fight it. He had to distract himself.

Damien moved into the living room, toward a set of stairs. “Sure, follow me. I'll show you to a room; got a few” he added, giving a chuckle at the largeness of his home for being a single bachelor. The house was spotless; everything in its perfect spot. It almost looked brand new; like it wasn't lived in. “Don't worry, you won't break anything. I just don't have many people over; that's all. You know, being a Paralegal and Law Clerk makes me pretty unpopular against the people I work against.” Damien lead the boy down the hallway upstairs. “Alright, you'll be here,” Damien said, pointing to a room on the left. It was a large room, with soft red walls, and black carpet. The room was definitely masculine. On the wall were pictures of a much younger Damien, playing baseball and basketball.

“This is my old room, and for the time being, will be yours. Make yourself at home.” Damien exited the room. “I'll be downstairs ordering the pizza, and setting up the TV. Come down when you want; I'll get a movie ready,” he said, as he walked down the hallway and down the stairs. He headed for the Kitchen to grab the phone and order the pizza. He felt good inside; he felt like a big brother or something. “Yes, I need two large pizzas, with everything on them. Yeah... Would I like to what? Oh, donate to Cancer Research? Yeah, actually. Put in another five for me there. Okay, sure... an hour? Sounds great...”

Arie followed, wondering why Damian was being so kind to him. Usually the wealthy were like his parents- snobbish and rude. He nodded as Damien showed him the room, "Alright, um, I'm going to change, if that's okay..." he said, already pulling off the vest as Damien left the room. He stepped out of the heels and set them neatly at the foot of the bed, and quickly changed. He left the shorts on, not wanting to dirty his only pair of jeans, but he tugged them down a bit so they at least covered his ass. the shirt he pulled on was a bit snug, the sort of fabric that liked to cling. He pulled his hair back into a short ponytail, his bangs falling around his face. He found the bathroom and washed off the heavy makeup he had been wearing- made up of department store samples, and looked in the mirror. He finally looked a bit more like a guy at least. Maybe now he wouldn't feel Damien's eyes on him so much... he'd noticed the man checking him out, and he wasn't sure if he should feel flattered or uneasy by it.

He returned to the room to put away what he'd been wearing, not wanting to leave a mess, glancing around a the photos. He picked up one that caught his attention, a much younger Damien sharing a kiss with what Arie was certain was another guy. There was no doubt. He starred for a few minutes before setting the picture down. He didn't want to be rude... He puzzled over it as he headed downstairs, wondering if it would be too rude to ask. He wandered into the kitchen just as Damien was hanging up the phone. He still hadn't come up with a subtle way to ask, so he gave up on that and just blurted the question. "Are you gay?" He asked bluntly. "I mean, that photo in your room..." He added, his face a bit red as he realized once voiced, that eh probably shouldn't have asked at all. "I just wondered... You seemed so offended earlier at the thought of hiring me... I assumed you weren't into guys..."

Damien's eyes grew wide. His heart lurched into his throat. He felt nauseous, uneasy. The boy had found his picture? 'Shit' he thought to himself. He thought he had put that pic away. He didn't know what to do next; what to say. He was a bit offended by the blunt question; but understood the boy asking. Up to this moment, he was certain Arie was gay, or at least bisexual; or at least he hoped he was, seeing as he was trying to sell himself to men.

“Uh... um...” Damien looked at the boy, his brow upturned. His mind raced... 'how to explain this'. He was also a bit upset that the boy had been so 'nosey', but then again, he did pick him up and bring him here. And the urges... he was fighting with them since the moment he saw the boy.

Damien took a seat at the kitchen island counter. He motioned for the boy to sit across from him. He looked down at the table and then slowly at Arie. He took a deep breath, and sighed. “No.” There, he said it. A mound of emotion fell off his back, off his chest. He felt comforted, but the question still loomed, and he could tell his answer didn't satisfy Arie. Damien's throat tightened, his voice going quiet; terribly soft. “That was my best friend... Alex. He died of cancer a few years ago...” Damien pushed back the feeling. He looked up at the boy... “I'm not gay... I'm bisexual, or at least was... I lost my only friend... my only piece of love that I really ever felt when Alex died.”

A tear welled in Damien's eye. He pushed it back. Hell, he was supposed to be the adult here, the strong one, the confident one. Yet, here he was, about to burst into tears at the kitchen island counter, looking at the picture of his best friend... his lover; Alex. The tears began to fall to the table, and he couldn't stop them, not now. His eyes welled up, redness forming in and around them and he let out a soft wail. The tears hit the counter.

Arie felt an instant sinking feeling of guilt, "I'm sorry... I had no idea..." He said as Damien started to break down. "I didn't mean to be so blunt, I'm not homophobic or anything, I just... was curious." He stood, moving next to him. He hesitated for a moment before slipping an arm around him and holding him lightly. "I'm really sorry." He said again before lightly pulling away. "Um... should I go? I mean, I understand if you need some time to yourself, or is there something I can do?" It kind of felt good- in an almost sickening way- to be able to try and help take care of someone else and forget his own problems for a while.

He couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy though, he didn't know what to do to make it up to him, or how to cheer him up again. He felt terrible for bringing it up, Damien had been nothing but kind to him, and he just couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Damien lifted his head from the table, and wiped a few tears. He chuckled a bit as he spoke. “Sorry... wow, that was embarrassing.” Damien didn't know what to do next. He had just come out to a boy he hardly knew anything about, had just relived a painful moment of his life, and yet, was comforted by the words of this teen. He stood up from the counter, his hand touching Luke's hand, which rested on the table. “Thanks for hearing me out.”

Walking over to the living room, Damien approached the loveseat couch, where the remote for the TV lie. He sat down, and took a deep breath before turning the television on. He flipped through some STARS channels, looking for a movie. “Hey, come on over here... you're not leaving, are you”, Damien asked, eager to know the answer. He didn't want him to leave. The connection was different now... in a better way. He had been so upset and scared, but that boy's warmth when he wrapped his arms around him had comforted him so easily. He kept flipping through the channels, finally stopping on some scary movie of some sort. It was almost over, so they'd be able to watch one from the start once the pizza got here. The sky was black, stars lighting up what little they could. The house was warm; cozy.

Arie shook his head, "Don't apologize... I don't mind at all." He watched Damien go, unsure if he should follow. It wasn't until Damien called him that he moved to the couch, curling up next to him, as if trying to be as close as possible without actually touching the man. "Not unless you want me to... it's not like I have anywhere else to go anyway." He said with a sad smile. "Besides... I'm not sure why, but I kind of like it here." He said carefully, wondering how a place that was so much like the one he'd let could feel so much more like home.

He hadn't been paying attention to the screen at all, so when the monster, as cheesy at it was, jumped out and the screen lit up with some woman screaming, the poor kid jumped, the carefully maintained space between them forgotten as he curled into Damien. "Ah... sorry..." He said, quickly moving away again, in fear he'd oversteped a boundary or something. "That startled me..."

The monster jumped from the screen followed by a shrill from a woman. The predictable scene seemed enough to scare young Arie; who leaped toward Damien, pulling him close. The warmth of their two bodies was enticing. Damien looked down at the boy, and smiled as Arie moved away. “Sorry” the teen said to him. Damien shook it off, “hey no problem man”, he said... feeling... different.

The movie continued on for a few moments. Damien began easing himself closer. His arm extended behind the boy, over the top of the couch. Damien kept watching the boy out of the corner of his eye. The feeling he was experiencing was like when he would hold Alex close a few years back. Alex had been easily frightened by sudden things, sort of like Arie was.

His arm reached around fully, and grabbed Arie's shoulder. He nudged himself closer; leaning Arie slightly toward his body as he kept his eyes forward. He was gentle, kind... Damien had no ill intentions; but felt he and Arie were comfortable enough with one another to be close; very close. Damien's hand gently caressed the boy's shoulder and upper arm. It felt good, for some reason. Damien's mind was blank really, living in the moment, not thinking about anything that might or might not happen; unsure of what was next. He pulled Arie's body closer, so the boy's head would rest on his chest, ear pressed to hear Damien's heart-beat.

Arie was at first quite oblivious to the fact that Damien was slowly moving closer, too engrossed in the movie. It wasn't until he felt the man's hand on his shoulder that he glanced over. When he was pulled to the other's chest he let himself relax, listening to the beat of the man's heart, his hand moving to cling lightly to Damien's shirt. It scared him a bit, how easy it was to relax with what he still deemed to be a near stranger, but... it was nice. The movie ended, and the credits rolled, and he found himself disappointed. Not because he'd been terribly interested in the movie, but because he worried it meant Damien would get up- or that things would escalate- and he wasn't sure he was ready for either.

The night slipped away quicker than they thought it would. Several minutes passed of silence, Damien still slowly and gently caressing Arie's arm. He could feel the warmth of the boy's body against his own, Arie's hand on his chest. It was relazing... so relaxing. The carressing stopped, his breath went shallow. Sleep.

The boys drifted to sleep slowly, completely missing the doorbell when it rang for pizza. They'd find it on the porch later the next morning along with a bill for delivery and a fee for not answering the door. Damien wouldn't care though... he was so happy right now... so calm, peaceful... relaxed.

[8:20 AM - Sun breaks through the windows of Damien's house] - A New Face... Part 2 - Damien's House

Arie woke as the sunlight first started to pour into the room. He hadn't slept so well, or for so long, in a long time. It took him a moment to figure out where he was, the soft warmth under him definitely wasn't his usual park bench. Right... Damien... He closed his eyes again, enjoying the warmth of another person. It wasn't until his stomach growled and pained him with hunger that he finally slid free and got to his feet, being careful not to wake the other.

He wasn't sure what time it was, and he didn't really care. It was morning... and Damien had only invited him for the one night... he would probably be back on the streets before long. He gave a heavy sigh as he slipped into the kitchen, intent on at least eating something before he was back on the streets. What had ever happened to the pizza from the night before? Right... He moved to the door and retrieved it, wondering if it had been cold enough during the night that it would be alright to eat. Of course, starving, he didn't really care. It wasn't bug infested or anything. He carried it back to the kitchen, but hesitated to take a piece. He should at least wait for Damien, and he didn't want to seem so desperate. His stomach growled again, and he opted for a piece of fruit. Damien wouldn't miss it, and it would last him until the other woke at least. He wondered if he would get a chance to take a shower and wash some clothes before he left. Both sounded like great luxuries to him by this point.

Damien's eyes slowly slid open; taking in the blinding rays of sun that were coming through the windows. He looked down at his chest; Arie wasn't there. He stretched as he sat up, groggy from the lackluster sleep he had gotten on the couch. He could still feel the warmth on his chest; so Arie couldn't have been gone for too long. He at up completely, and looked around. He heard nothing; saw nothing.

Damien got up slowly, working his way toward the kitchen. As he approached, he caught sight of Arie, who was munching on some fruit. A smile came across his face, happy Arie had stuck around. “Hey, kiddo,” he said as he entered the kitchen. He walked over to the island and grabbed a Granny Apple. He took a chomp out of the fibrous fruit and chewed slowly, enjoying the natural flavors. He could tell Arie was hungry, having almost devoured his piece of fruit... for all Damien knew it could be his second, third... tenth. He didn’t mind... so long as the kid fed his hunger.

“So, they left the pizza outside, then,” Damien asked, lifting the lid on the pizza box. He closed it quickly and pushed it aside. “No worries; I'll make us some waffles or something.” Damien smiled at Arie, glad the boy had stayed so long. He felt good about helping the boy, and yet, he sort of felt guilty; but wasn't sure why. The boy's clothing looked dirty, and he had a slight smell to him that Damien had ignored.

“So, wanna get a shower? I'll throw the clothes in the laundry and start making breakfast if you'd like while you take your shower. It'll feel great to get cleaned up, I'm sure.” He beamed a smile toward Arie, knowing that he must have been wanting this for some time now.

Arie looked up, freezing mid-bite as if he'd been caught committing a crime, as well as pigging out on an apple like he hadn't seen food in a month. "Sorry, I didn't want to wake you, and I didn't think you would care..." He said quickly, looking at the skeletal apple core. He'd taken every possible nibble of fruit from it. "Did you sleep well?" He asked, "You um... make a good pillow..."

He nodded at the comment about the pizza, and seemed to light up at the idea of a hot meal. At the mention of exactly what he's been daydreaming about though he was certain he was dreaming. "That would be great... I try and keep everything clean, but public restrooms can only offer so much." He said with a slight wince. "Is it alright if I leave my things by the door?" He asked, getting an answer before hurrying upstairs.

His complete wardrobe was rather sad, the cut off shorts, the vet, the shirt he was wearing, a thin sweatshirt, and a pair of jeans were all he had- along with a few pairs of boxers. Everything he owned was name brand, but it all looked as though while it had once been nice, the garments were begining to show some real wear and tear. He set them in a neat pile to be washed, closing up his bag to keep what little else he owned hidden. with a newfound towel wrapped around his waist, he slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself, marveling having some privacy before starting the water.

The hot water felt amazing on his skin, and he took his time washing the grime from the street from his skin, scrubbing every inch of himself twice over. By the time he was done his pale skin glowed pink, and he felt like he'd somehow been reborn. He'd never enjoyed something as simple as a shower so much. He frowned as he dried off, tying the towel around his waist. He held it securely as he crept down the stairs, slinking into the kitchen shyly. "Um, Damien...?" He questioned, standing in the doorway in nothing but a towel, "Maybe it wasn't so bright of me to wash -all- my clothes... do you have a robe, or maybe something I could borrow? Just until my clothes are dry?" He asked hopefully.

Damien looked up from the newspaper he was reading at the island in the kitchen. The boy stood there, covered only by a bath towel. "Well, it looks like we have a problem then, huh?" Damien was laughing to himself; poor kid had terrible luck, but that was about to end. Damien nodded at Arie. "Yeah, you can use my robe if you'd like... it's in the closet next to the bathroom upstairs. Clothes will be done drying in about forty minutes, anyway."

Damien smiled as the boy headed upstairs to get the robe. He liked this kid... felt comfortable around him, and he felt like he was important in Arie's life at this moment, but wasn't sure why. He put the paper down and headed for his chair in the living room. The room was open, had a view of the staircase and the kitchen, along with a lower-level study and dining room. At the center of the house, it made for the perfect sight within the house; everything visible.

Damien sat in his chair after turning on some jazz music. He relaxed in the chair, and became engrossed in the sound of the saxaphone that was playing MacArthur Park. He smiled at the sound of the music; he loved it! His phone rang and suddenly, the real-world was back.

"Damien King..." he said, answering the phone. The voice on the other end seemed generic. "No, I don't work on Saturdays, I'm sorry. You can stop by the office on Monday and we'll help you there." Damien thanked the caller and put his phone down on an end table near his chair. He sat there for a moment, pondering his next move... where would Arie go... what would happen to him?

"Arie," Damien called to the boy. "Come down here, we've gotta tlak about some things... alright?" Damien sat in his chair, awaiting some response.

Arie retrieved the robe, taking a moment to enjoy the soft warmth before he heard Damien calling him. He already knew what he wanted... and Arie wasn't sure he wanted to talk about those things just yet. He hesitated, pausing for several minutes at the top of the stairs before coming down the steps and settling in the living room, looking anywhere but at Damien as he settled into his seat.

It was only the music that kept the awkward silence filled as Arie fidgited. "You have questions right?" He finally said, deciding it was easier to just get to the point than to dance circles around it. "About where I'm from, and why I'm in the situation I'm in?" He still wouldn't meet Damien's eyes as he spoke. "Do you really need to know?" He already knew the answer to that, even if Damien didn't need to know, he owed the man an explanation, and he would have to give it eventually, why not now?

Arie seemed anxious to get this all off his chest. Damien shook his head, "I want to help you out, but you need to be blunt; be honest with me here... why aren't you at home?" Damien looked at Arie's face; into his eyes... "what did your father do?"

Somehow Damien could read the situation well. Maybe it was his experience with his own father... being kicked out of the family, practically, when his father found him with Alex in his room. Since then, he didn't speak with his father unless it pertained to the Practice. He could feel the tension.

"Let me say this... tell me everything, and I promise if you never want to go back, you... you... you won't have to." Damien words slipped out of his mouth quickly. He was so open with this young kid, and now he was making this promise. "Its alright Arie... see I was kicked out of my home a few years back when my father found me with Alex. He told me I was garbage; a shame to the family... so, he kicked me out, and I stayed away. My life is better for it."

Damien looked at the boy, he stood up from his chair and moved over beside Arie, looking at him, placing his hand on the boy's tende,r and now smooth shoulder. He rubbed Arie's back, as he awaited some sort of answer or reply.

Arie seemed to curl up, as if making himself as small as possible would somehow free him from everything. Hearing what he'd been through helped, and the close contact was just what he needed. He curled into Damien, "It wasn't so bad... Jacob and I decided to tell him- together. My father flipped, he tossed half the kitchen at us, mother's china and all. We fled, I stayed at Jacob's until he cooled down... When I came home he told me I had ten minute to get my things and get out, and that if he ever saw me again he would kill me." He hugged his knees to his chest, "I stayed with Jacob for a while, but we fought a lot, and eventually his parents said I had to leave. Everyone I knew either couldn't help or wouldn't, so I was stuck on the streets." He fell quiet, waiting to see what would do, and hoping Damien would keep his promise.