Cherry Cola Fantasy

Chapter 3: Broke Boy, Go Home!

Luke coughed and looked up from his spot on the floor. His knees were red and aching where he sat. With his legs folded underneath his body. His eyes puddled in tears. He wanted this to be over.

The man, whose dick he was sucking, promised him $400 for a blowjob alone. Luke couldn't pass up the offer. Besides, Brian hurt him. He was doing this, sort of, to get back at Brian. But also be cause he needed cash.

The problem was how disgusting the man smelled. He was hairy and not in a good way. Luke usually liked men with a little chest hair, but this guy was like a Wookie. He had a long, greasy ponytail and a brown, fringe jacket. It sickened Luke, especially when he called him "baby."

When he looked at Luke, it sent shivers down Luke's spine. Luke felt like a doll.

"Baby, keep going. Stop thinking and just suck!" He tugged Luke's curls, pulling him towards his dick. Luke wanted to bite down. Thankfully, old alcoholics didn't typically last long.

The motel had a musty smell. The wallpaper peeled around the edges, the lamp casted a greenish yellow glow, and the carpet was dark brown—covered in hair of various lengths. The bed was not any better. There were sheets of a sickening mustard color and a duvet that looked to be quilted, but it was actually made of nylon. Luke hated cheap motels.

Luke coughed and let the older man use him. This was his thing: allowing some old guy to use him for pay, and that was how he paid for his road trip. How he paid for this retched, vile motel.

He finished in Luke's hand. Luke stood and ran to wash the disgusting substance (and probably diseases) off of his skin. He used half of the bottle of hand soap. Anything to get this guy's stench off of him.

"Baby!" The man grabbed Luke's ass. He didn't even bother to zip his pants up.

"What, Earl?" Luke swatted his hand. Earl planted the $400 in Luke's hand. Luke smiled gratefully.

"Thanks," the curly-haired boy whispered. He turned his attention back to the sink.

"No problem. Call me sometime, baby. We can go for a ride on my motorcycle or something," Earl growled and touched Luke again. Luke sighed and led him out the motel door.

"Sure," he said.

He collapsed against the wall when the sound of a motorcycle engine filled his ears. Sliding to the floor, Luke held his knees and sobbed. He cried and sniffled until he couldn't breathe out of his left nostril. His cheeks were flushed, and he was beautiful. But, he felt used and washed up.

Luke took everything out of the pockets of his bellbottoms that shaped his hips nicely. He stepped out of his pointy boots and kicked the denim material off. Luke placed the items on the dusty motel bed and headed for the shower.

He never let that kind of man kiss him. That was for Brian only, though, Luke wanted to be kissed sometimes. He wished Brian would come find him and kiss the breath out of him.

Luke liked affection, so he wrote songs about it.

The water drenched his soft curls and washed the filth off of his body. He used the motel soap bars but washed his hair using his own shampoo and conditioner. The curls had to stay luscious.

Showers were religious for Luke. He felt peace under hot water, and he could sing his heart out without a soul critiquing him. To be alone in the shower was far different than being alone everywhere else.

Luke put the same clothes back on and let his curls air dry. His boots clicked when he walked around the room. He took a loot at himself in the mirror. Feeling a little better, he decided to get out of the Vegas motel—and, never stay in it again.

The boy would just have to find another place to stay the night at (or—store his belongings).

Maybe, he thought, Vegas was not ideal for the night. Luke remembered the town only 16 miles outside of the city. He decided to go back to the tumbleweed city of Henderson for a little trip.

Though, he had only just gotten to Vegas, he wanted to get away from the city during the day time. And besides:

He was low on gas and cherry cola.

Luke got into his convertible and kept the top down. He used the car's cigarette lighter to light a blunt and calm his nerves. His tongue traced the edges to keep all of the weed from spilling out. Luke let the joint bob between his lips and his hair wisp with the wind as he drove  to Mike's Shop.

+

There it was in all of its glory. The rundown shop that Luke had stumbled upon. It made him smile a little. He had long forgotten about being a male prostitute, Brian, losing his gamble, and everything else that plagued his mind.

The bell dinged when he walked inside. Cranberry, mauve, and citrus shades filled his senses again. He let his eyes roam on all of the simplistic that any normal gas station would have. There was just something about this one, old gas station that made Luke feel safe.

He didn't know why, but Luke thought he would go to this place more often.

Behind the counter, Michael was not alone this time. A tan, muscular boy was standing beside him, scratching a lottery ticket. It was the boy from the photo on the cash register. Michael looked to be comforting him, encouraging him to keep playing. Luke tilted his head fondly. He liked seeing openly gay couples. It made him comfortable in his own skin.

"Welcome to Mike's," Michael said lowly. Luke wanted to say something back, but he grew nervous. He decided to walk over to the refrigerators instead. Luke scanned the shelves for a cherry cola, grinning when he found a glass bottle. He grabbed two of them, along with some headache medicine.

"We didn't win, babe," the tan man said. Michael hushed him when Luke approached the counter.

"Next time," Michael promised and took Luke's items. "That'll be $6.75," Luke stuffed the money into Michael's hand and cleared his throat as the cashier counted it.

"Um, I um, I never win at lottery tickets. Hell, last night I played at a casino and still didn't win," Luke scratched the back of his neck shyly and laughed.

"Yeah? You lose lots?" Michael looked up.

"Actually, everything, but it's okay. The guy is going to give it back if I work for him," Luke smiled and took his bag of items.

"Damn, is he rich?" Michael's boyfriend asked. His eyes were wide, but as Luke got closer—he noticed he was fairly handsome. He had dyed blond hair that dusted over his eyebrows, which, were dark and thick. His cheekbones were strong and masculine. Luke could see why Michael liked him so much.

"Yeah, kind of. He owns Irwin Records," Luke shrugged.

"Irwin Records?!" Both Michael and his boyfriend said at the same time.

"I know right. He kind of creeped me out at first, but he wants me to sing for him. I don't know," Luke mumbled. He stared at his boots before looking back up at the men behind the cash register.

"We know him. Ashton is our friend. He's a great guy, grew up right here in Henderson. You should definitely sing for him!" Michael encouraged, and his boyfriend nodded along.

"I'm Calum by the way. This is Michael. You should come by and tell us how it goes," The boyfriend, Calum, said. Luke nodded with a bright smile.

"Oh, okay! I will. Thanks for the advice guys!"

Luke heard the bell jingle, as he walked out. The sound of his boots made him feel confident. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dime, noticing a payphone on the side of the shop.

The man reached into his denim pockets and fished out the business card from the night before.

"Hello?" Ashton's voice became audible.

"I accept your offer."