Page 34 of Steam

“Listen, asshole,” Henry says, his hands now balled into fists as he frowns up at Logan, all pretence of sweetness gone. “I’m trying to be nice. You don’t just get to reject me without giving me a chance.”

“Why do you care? You’re getting paid either way,” Logan says, shaking his head.

Henry’s eyes are glittering now, hard, and his voice has a raw edge that it didn’t have before. It’s much more appealing than the weird saccharine act he’d been putting on up until that moment.

“You can’t imagine that someone like me could have any pride in his work?” Henry spits at him. “You think I just want to get paid and nothing else matters?”

Logan can’t help but laugh.

“I can’t believe this is a real conversation I’m actually having right now,” he says. Logan flops himself down on the edge of his couch, massaging his temples. “I was trying to get laid, not talk to a sex worker about his work ethic.”

Despite his frustration, Logan realizes that Henry is infinitely more appealing with the unrealistic sheen dropping away. He stares down at his expensive rug instead of risking another look at Henry. He refuses to let the kid think he’s winning.

“Yeah, and that’s where this whole line of logic is breaking down for me,” Henry says, stepping in front of Logan. He still doesn’t look up. “You want to get laid. I want to do my job. I’m not understanding where the problem is for you.”

Still looking down, Logan watches as a bare foot steps between his. Henry moves to kneel on the plush rug, pressing his body in between Logan’s knees. Logan fights it for a moment, straining his knees together against the boy, before giving in, sitting back, feeling ridiculously tired.

The whole idea was to keep things simple, to make him feel better—and this is all so much more complicated than he planned.

“Like it or not, you hired me,” Henry says from his place between Logan’s knees, stroking Logan’s legs through his jeans, his face going soft again. Logan watches him transform from looking halfway normal to looking like something out of a porno, all big brown eyes and perfect pink mouth. He bites his bottom lip softly as he strokes higher up Logan’s legs, pressing his body against the edge of the couch.

Logan can’t deny that it’s an impressive skill—especially considering how abrasive the kid seems to be by nature.

“I can make you feel so good, Logan, if you’ll give me a chance.”

Logan leans backwards the rest of the way, letting his back rest against the couch.

“I think I like you better when you’re pissed off,” Logan says. “Does anyone actually fall for that cutesy Marilyn Monroe voice shit?”

Henry gives him a crooked smile.

“You say that like you’re not going to be begging me for it in an hour, baby,” Henry says in a syrupy voice.

Logan fakes a shudder.

“Ugh, it’s so weird,” he says.

“You want a man who can take charge then?” Henry says, his voice back to what Logan assumes is normal. Before Logan can fend him off, Henry is climbing up onto the couch roughly, straddling his lap.

Logan hates himself for the fact that it’s starting to turn him on.

“You don’t have to do any fake shit for me at all,” Logan protests. “Seriously, you don’t even have to stay.”

* * *

For the first time, Henry realizes, this guy is not saying no.

It’s a subtle shift, but it still means he’s winning.

“No fake shit,” Henry says, looking into his client’s face. “I can do that. Serious shit only.”

The man has been staring at him the entire time as if he’s a fucking rubik’s cube, some puzzle to be figured out—and Henry has been trying hard not to stare back. The guy is unusual looking—incongruous with his tattoos and disheveled hair amidst the almost ridiculously opulent condo. Between the high-rolling address and the man’s understatedly expensive clothes, Henry could size up his tax bracket easily.

In any town but Reno, he wouldn’t have believed in a millionaire with knuckle tattoos. But a landscape of casinos sometimes made reality stranger than fiction.

Rather than letting himself get bogged down in the guy’s appearance, though, Henry was working on an angle as soon as he walked through the door. He’d torn through the catalog of cliches in his mind, trying to define tonight’s client as quickly as possible so that he could make sure he satisfied him from their first exchange.

But he couldn’t pin Logan down, and it had just gotten weirder and weirder from there.

---