Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/774293.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Jackson_Whittemore
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Jackson_Whittemore, Gerard_Argent, Danny_Mahealani, Original
      Characters
  Additional Tags:
      Prostitution, Alternate_Universe, Blow_Jobs, past_drug_abuse, Intercrural
      Sex, Emotional_Manipulation, Past_Sexual_Abuse, Past_physical_abuse,
      Strong_dub_con/non_con_themes_(non_graphic), Hand_Jobs, Anal_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-04-26 Completed: 2013-06-12 Chapters: 4/4 Words: 19213
****** Hedonistic ******
by DolorousDoll
Summary
     Derek can recall how it happened, when, what every sensation felt
     like but for the life of him he can’t remember why he let it happen.
Notes
     Okay so I saw all these posts on tumblr about a lot of people wanting
     a Halemore AU where Jackson’s a whore so I thought I’d give it a try.
     I may write more just little pieces here and there if I get the time
     or anymore inspiration.
     I have no Beta and its two in the morning so if there's any mistakes
     regarding grammar or punctuation I apologize.
      
     Thank you for reading. Enjoy!
***** Fortuitous *****
Derek can recall how it happened, when, what every sensation felt like but for
the life of him he can’t remember why he let it happen.  Why he allowed himself
to fall into a lustfully depraved relationship with one Jackson Whittemore.
Jackson’s an enigma an exorbitant amount of issues shoved into a living
breathing containment of flesh.
Its dawn and Derek’s driving though town on his way home from his job at the
docks, slinging freshly caught fish. He reeks of the ocean and fish guts and he
can still feel the slimy hardness of the fish’s scales beneath his nails from
when he had filleted them.
He stops at a set of traffic lights and one handily opens his pack of
cigarettes, using the car cigarette lighter to ignite it and he knows the
nicotine isn’t going to mix well with the lingering smell of fish but he can’t
bring himself to give a fuck.
Derek lives in a shitty neighbourhood. The whole place is a slum, with hookers
and druggies lining every corner.  It’s not a nice place to live but if Derek
wanted nice he would have left a long time ago but as it is he doesn’t want
nice or habitable because there both comforts he’s gone without for such a long
time.
When he parks up at his apartment building he pushes out his radio and shoves
it into his duffel to take upstairs with him, because honestly he wouldn’t be
surprised if someone tried to steal it. People have had their cars broken into
for a lot less.
He works out once he’s inside, does pull ups using a bar he fitted in at the
top of the doorway to the kitchen. He showers, uses the last of the lime and
lemon shower gel that’s been hanging in his shower for weeks even though the
bottles squashed to shit from his attempts to get the last tendrils of it out.
The only bad thing about having been at work this early Derek notes is that he
can never get to sleep. He’s restless and it’s too bright out. He opens his
fridge and noticing that his groceries are scarce he decides to pick up a
couple of things.
He mostly gets canned goods because they last for a long time and the cans are
big enough for a serving of one. It’s not as if he needs to cook for anyone
else.
It’s when he’s walking out of the seven eleven that he sees him. A boy just shy
of seventeen by the looks of him, full lipped with hazy blue eyes. He stumbles
out of the alley, the sleeve of his hoody pulled over his hand as he brings it
up to wipe at his mouth and yeah he’s definitely wiping away come.  A greasy
looking guy walks out of the alley a few seconds later, legs stretching outward
whiles his hand palms against the crotch of his trousers. The greasy guy gives
the teen a nod before his fingers flick at blue eyes cheek.
Derek sneers because the touch is intimate and he can almost feel the way the
teen bristles at the contact. He doesn’t know why he’s still standing there,
why he’s still watching as the greaser walks away and the teen pulls a small
wad of bills out of his pocket, hastily thumbs through them before shoving them
back into his hoody.
The kid looks up then and freezes when he catches Derek’s eye. Derek snaps out
of his stupor long enough to see the teen look anxious then pissed.
“What the hell are you staring at?” He grouches and Derek out of habit goes to
snap back with a venomous comment or some type of threat but what comes out
instead is.
“How much?”  
The boy looks taken back for a minute before stepping closer making the
conversation a bit less public.
“Depends what you’re after.”  He says and Derek honestly doesn’t know what he
wants from this kid.  
Derek hasn’t had sex in over nine months and he’s almost forgotten what its
like to have someone else touch him. This kid looks like bad news, he’s a whore
he could have any type of S.T.I  or S.T.D. He could be dangerous. But Derek
reminds himself that if he wanted safe he wouldn’t be here, he wouldn’t be
talking prices with a whore who looks like he only experienced puberty about
two years ago.
“A blowjob.”  He says and the kid sniffs, looks away.
“40 bucks.”  That’s a lot of money - on Derek’s wages anyway- still he just
grunts then inclines his head towards his apartment block which is an easy ten
minute walk away from the seven eleven. 
The kid follows him, no further questioning, nothing. Derek could be a serial
killer for all he knows. Does the kid have no regard for his life what so ever?
Apparently not because he follows Derek all the way up the dodgy spiral
staircase to his apartment and doesn’t even flinch when Derek slams the door
shut, deadbolts it.
Derek’s apartment is open plan a kitchenette to the left, a pull out springy
piece of shit bed to the right and to the far left there’s a door that leads to
a box bathroom. The only good thing about it is the full length windows on the
far end of the room, it’s not like there’s much of a view but it’s the most
appealing thing about the apartment.  
The kid stands between the kitchenette and bed, watching as Derek places his
grocery bags down onto the work top. Once he’s put them down he’s not sure what
to do. He’s never paid for sex before, hasn’t even entertained the idea of it.
He turns and walks towards the kid, eyes falling down to the come stain that’s
white and crusted on his hoody sleeve. He swallows feeling chicken shit until
the kid speaks.
“Money first.” He says, face hard but eyes shining and Derek nods before
stepping over to his bed. He can hear the kid take steps after him, close
behind. Derek stops before turning around and the kid seems to curl into
himself when Derek’s penetrative stare bores into him.
“Turn around.” Derek says because like he’s going to let this stranger know
where he keeps his money. The kid rolls his eyes but obliges.
Derek reaches under the mattress to in-between the bed boards where he leaves
emergency money. He pulls out forty dollars before tucking the other sixty
away.
He stands then clears his throat. The kid turns, raises an eyebrow as he picks
the money out of Derek’s hand. The bills feel cold and crisp as they slide out
of his palm and Derek feigns nonchalance as he watches the kid count the money.
 The money disappears into his pocket then he’s pushing Derek down to sit on
the edge of his bed. The mattress squeaks, then the boy’s slipping down onto
his knees, both hands working together to undo Derek’s belt, zipper and button.
He pushes at the open V of Derek’s jeans, pulls his half hard cock out,
stretching the material of his boxers down to just beneath his balls.
He jerks him for a bit, palm unnaturally smooth and Derek exhales heavily
through his nostrils as he feels his cock fill up. Then the kids sealing his
mouth around the curved tip of Derek’s cock, cheeks hollowing out,
simultaneously sucking and licking at the head. He pulls off for a minute then
he’s just tonguing at Derek’s foreskin like he’s fascinated with it. He runs
his thumb over the wet head, pushes his foreskin down and watches as a drop of
precome splurges out, the substance thick and translucent against the shiny
redness of Derek’s cock.
He lowers his head a moment later; taking more than just the head into his
mouth and fuck it feels good it feels amazing. There’s something undeniably
filthy about it. Having a teenaged whore on his knees for him, head bobbing
like mad, jaw flexing and working as if he’s double jointed, saliva slicking
the way, little wet noises filling the air.
Derek moans, deep and sweet, one hand going to cradle the back of the kid’s
head. He drops back on one elbow, keeping himself perched up enough so that he
can see the teen. He can’t bring himself to lie down because he doesn’t want to
miss this, can’t miss this. The show the kids putting on and it doesn’t even
look intentional either but it’s a fucking picture none the less.
His long brown eyelashes – so light they almost look blonde, flutter hastily
when Derek shoves his hips up. The kid makes gagging noises, little choking
sounds and Derek grits his teeth around a moan, curls the fingers of his hand
on the kids head into his hair and yanks his head further down as he comes.
The kid doesn’t even attempt to swallow it, his tongue just spasms, mouth
spitting out Derek’s come but with his mouth still full of Derek’s cock the
come goes everywhere. Over the kids chin, down over Derek’s cock until it
lathers over his balls.
Chest heaving from his orgasm Derek realises he’s still got a hand in the kids
hair so he lets go slowly, flexes each finger against the teen’s scalp.
“You’re good at that.” Derek says before he can think better of it and he
wonders if sexual etiquette has changed much in the nine months he hasn’t
gotten any action.  He must have said something right though because the kid
blushes a little, pink tinting his cheeks before he looks away, wipes at his
mouth.
“Mind getting me a tissue.” He says and Derek clears his throat before tucking
himself back into his pants. He tries to avoid getting come on his hands but
it’s everywhere so with slippery sticky fingers he adjusts his trousers and
steps through to the bathroom.
He’s just collecting some tissue paper when he hears the front door slam shut.
 With widening eyes and a haunting realization Derek rushes out of the
bathroom, his eyes going around to all the points in the apartment. The kids
gone. He runs over to the bed, kneels down and reaches under the mattress.  The
kids gone and so’s his sixty bucks.  
“Son of a bitch.” 
***** Anomalous *****
Chapter Notes
     Hey hey hey, can I first of all just thank everybody from their
     amazing reviews and Kudos’s etc, etc. I think there’s just going to
     be one more chapter from this particular scenario but thanks to
     Anon’s suggestion’s I may write some more Halemore prostitute stories
     with a few differences but I’ll let you all know in due time.
     Please enjoy the next chapter and let me know what you think.
     Dolorous Doll x
Derek doesn’t like to admit how much effort and time he spends in trying to
find this kid. But this kid, this cocksure, resourceful sneaky son of a bitch
stole his money and Derek sure as hell wants it back.
He goes back to the seven eleven that he first spotted the kid at, searches the
alley’s around it and the usual hot spots for the prostitutes. It’s a week
later when Derek starts contemplating whether to ask around.  It’s a small town
and someone who looks like the kid must be well known especially offering what
he does, but then if he did ask people would know why Derek’s associated with
him and that’s no one’s business but Derek’s.
It’s the beginning of the second week that he spots him jogging down the
street, late at night and from the distance it must look like the beginnings of
a terrible slasher movie because Derek cut’s his lights out and tails him in
his car all the way to a rundown multi story apartment building.  
There’s something oddly thrilling about following the kid up the stairs,
quietly and undetectable. And Derek wonders for a moment how fucked up he is
because he could have confronted the kid at anytime not followed him to his
house.  
He waits at the end of the hall when the kid walks down it and peeks around the
corner of the wall to watch him open his door. Once he steps inside his
apartment Derek rushes forwards and pushes through the doorway, revels a little
in the startled gasp the kid lets out.
He makes this soft little noise when Derek shoves him against the wall, one
large hand splayed against his chest, finger just shy of touching his clavicle.
He kicks the front door shut.
“You.” The kid sneers and Derek smirks.
“Me.”
Derek expects him to fight and it’s surprising that he doesn’t, he’s tense
beneath Derek’s grip but besides that he doesn’t move.
“You’re a hard person to find.” Derek says and the kid smirks.
“You been looking for me this whole time?” Derek doesn’t say anything but he
thinks his silence is answer enough and its undeniably annoying how with one
sentence this kid can make Derek feel like a complete and utter idiot. He’s now
just realising how insane the whole thing is, the fact that he’s spent the past
two weeks thinking about nothing else but finding this kid, the one he picked
up off the streets.  
“You took something from me.” Derek supplies, eyes hard.
“Why’re you so sour huh? You humiliated at the fact that you had to pay someone
for sex, or maybe it’s the fact that the person you paid mugged you off?”
There’s a noise coming from the doorway a few inches away from Jackson’s head
and it takes them both a moment to register it but then the doors opening.
Derek’s not expecting the child; sleep rumpled and moody looking as she stands
in the ajar doorway in an oversized Guns N Roses t-shirt. He uncurls his
fingers from around the kids t-shirt, feels the boy tense up beneath him, a
thin sheen of sweat adorning his face.  
“Jackson.” The little girl says almost like a question and the kid – Jackson
his names Jackson- smiles shakily before kneeling down.
“Hey squirt, what are you doing up?” She moves a tiny fist away from rubbing at
her eyes before scowling and her eyes are just like Jackson’s, bright and blue,
sweet pools of aquamarine.
“You were being noisy.” She says, endearingly petulant as if Jackson has told
her this a thousand times and now she’s just happy she’s got the opportunity to
say it to him.
Derek’s lost, he feels awkward and intrusive. Not only has he spent the last
two weeks searching for a teenager who he paid for sex. He also forced his way
into his home all over sixty dollars but then Derek has to wonder- has wondered
-is he just bothered about the money, or is it something more? Is it strange to
feel betrayed by a whore because they stole your money? But he doesn’t know
Jackson, the teen has no loyalty to Derek, he was looking out for himself and
this child whoever she is, so it’s obvious why he would take the money. The
child that’s an enigma on its own, is she Jacksons? She could be Jackson’s,
they look eerily similar.
“This is my friend.” Jackson says and he turns wide pleading eyes to Derek,
pupils blown out wide.
“Derek.” Derek replies, filling in the blank because he just suddenly realises
that Jackson doesn’t know his name.
The girl doesn’t look convinced and Derek wonders if four year olds are capable
of suspecting lies.
“You don’t have any friends.” She says, brutally honest and to someone her age
not at all malicious, either way the words seem to hit a little too close to
home. He watches as Jackson looks away, collects himself before turning back a
small sad smile on his face.
“You should be in bed.” He reprimands and the girl doesn’t pout but it’s a damn
close thing. He picks her up, uses one hand to brush a bit of hair away from
her face before he walks into the room through the ajar door. He looks at Derek
over his shoulder, a weary and guarded look on his face.
When he comes out a few minutes later Derek forces himself to not feel sorry
for this kid, this whore who stole his money, just because he’s got a child and
lives in the slums doesn’t mean he gets to steal from others, steal from Derek.
 Jackson closes the door to the bedroom quietly before turning to face Derek.
“I want my money.” Derek states. “Just because you’ve got a kid, it doesn’t
give you the right to steal from me.”
Jackson laughs, the sound sharp and dark. “What’s so funny?” Derek questions,
voice low and somber because he wants this kid to realise he can be a threat
and he willbe if he doesn’t get what he came for. The kids so damn cocky, it’s
irritating beyond belief. He’s all too trained in this facade he has up and
Derek wants to smash it apart, wants to get a peak at what’s beneath.
“Your monies gone genius, I spent it the moment I took it.”  
“I want my money, I don’t care how you get it, just get it.” Derek says as he
takes a step towards Jackson, boxing him in against the wall, gets close enough
to the point that Jackson has to look up at him in order to keep eye contact.
And finally the message bleeds through, the intent and seriousness of Derek’s
statement is recognised. Jackson pales before an idea seems to registers then
he parts his lips and licks his tongue across them slowly.  
“How about a different kind of payment.” He says deliberately breathy, index
and middle finger curling into the belt loop of Derek’s jeans where he tugs,
pulls the older man closer.
“What makes you think that’s what I want?” Derek questions but he doesn’t pull
away and his body is anything but reluctant if anything he pushes closer.
“You’ve spent the past two weeks looking for me, think that’s answer enough.”
 Jackson says lips catching on Derek’s and he only has a moment to realise they
haven’t kissed before he amends that, crushing their mouths together.
The kid throws himself into it, hands pushing up under Derek’s t-shirt to
scratch at the skin of his abdomen, hips pushing up and rotating to connect and
rub their groins together.
“Kitchen...kitchen.” The kid gasps against his mouth between harsh kisses. Then
Derek’s blindly following him through the narrow hallway to the end where they
fall through a door and trip backwards into a refrigerator, knocking over
several takeout menu’s and fridge magnets off of it.
The kissing’s good, the physical contact a thrumming ache beneath Derek’s skin.
He’s missed it, the simple act of kissing, touching. The brush of lips, the
slick of tongue, the unabashed noises of pleasure.  
Jackson pushes him back and Derek makes a growling sound against his mouth,
shoves him against the counter because this is the time he gets to have what he
wants. Jackson owes him.
The counter digs into his back and Derek’s beard leaves tingling heated
sensations down his throat and neck but still he bares his throat, let’s Derek
yank his top up over his head and throw it across the room where it crashes
into a cutlery hanger.
When Derek runs his hands up Jackson’s arms he startles at the small rigid
bumps he feels up the skin of his forearm.  He breaks the kiss and pulls back,
turning Jackson’s arm over so he can get a better look at what he just felt. He
suspected but was hoping that it wouldn’t be track marks. The lines are
sporadic, blood free, most of them closed up to small scars. He looks up at the
kid then and he’s not sure what his facial expression is like but Jackson’s is
closed off.
“I haven’t taken anything in months.” He explains and Derek can tell, the marks
don’t look fresh but they still look painful. Derek lets go of his wrist.
Jackson turns his arm back around, draws it close to his chest and for a moment
the air around them feels thicker, tenser.
“So we gonna do this or what?” The kid asks agitatedly and fucking a whore is
one thing but a drug addict – or if what Jackson says is true ex drug addict –
seems irresponsible. Derek knows it, irresponsible, reckless and a thousand
other terrible things Derek doesn’t care to think about because this doesn’t
involve him, Jacksons health is not his problem, neither is his past. This
thing here and now is the only thing that involves him.  
“Yeah.” He says then again for clarification. “Yeah.”
Jackson nods resolutely before he’s pulling Derek in by the neck of his shirt,
kissing him with a messy fierceness and lewdly grabbing at his crotch.  He
gropes him through his jeans, all hot high friction and pressure and Derek
moans into his mouth, parts his lips and lets a gasp slip out.
Soon enough he becomes impatient because he wants to come, he needsto come. So
when he pulls away to turn Jackson around the teen let’s him, bows at the waist
and braces his hands on the edge of the counter top.  He whispers out hot
little words that make Derek wonder if it’s because of what he’s doing or if
it’s because Jackson’s ‘job’demands this of him, demands he put on a good
performance.
He shoves the teen’s threadbare jogging bottoms down to mid thigh, licks his
lips when he looks at the soft curve of Jackson’s ass as well as the milky
cream skin of his thighs.  Derek fumbles with his jeans, hastily undoes the
button and zipper and pulls his cock out through the space provided. A thousand
things scream in his head at once, how much he wants to fuck this kid, well and
truly own him, shove his face down onto the counter, ream him so he’ll feel it
for days.  But the kid hasn’t mentioned anything about lube or condoms so Derek
does the only thing he can think of, pushes forward and slides his cock up the
inside of the teen’s thigh and Jackson must have done this before because he
squeezes his thighs together, creates this hot tight little space for Derek to
fuck into.
Jackson rests his arm on the counter, bows his head and breaths into the crease
of his elbow. He’s hard and he doesn’t know whether to laugh at the
ridiculousness of it or cry at the desperation of it because he’s turned on. A
client has turned him on and it’s the most real he’s felt in a long time, the
most alive.  The sensations only heighten- worsen -when Derek kisses at his
back and neck and Jackson wishes he could see Derek and not just feel the open
mouthed kisses he’s pressing against his freckled shoulder blades.  But for the
moment the feelings enough, the heady tandem of lips, teeth and tongue.
 Derek thrusts forward again, harder this time, hard enough to drive Jackson’s
body into the counter, the line of it cutting into his chest. Still he just
tightens his thighs, let’s Derek cock slide between them, let’s Derek drape his
chest over Jackson’s back and pant shallowly against his ear like he’s running
a marathon.
When Derek comes, copious amounts slicking the counter and the inside of
Jackson’s thighs he feels a weird sense of satisfaction that he has failed to
feel with any of the other clients he has. Derek makes a small noise, it sounds
wounded but content then he’s reaching a hand around, warm and slightly sweaty
to wrap around Jackson.
“Fuck.” Jackson curses voice unrecognisable to himself as he jerks against
Derek’s hand, wraps his fingers around the outside of Derek’s hand and changes
the angle. He only realises he’s shaking when he looks down at the hand he has
splayed across the counter top. He squeezes his hand into a fist in an attempt
to quench the shaking. It doesn’t work.
He pushes his forehead into the counter when he comes, shoves a hand over the
head of his cock in order to prevent it from striping up the counter, he
catches some of it, the majority dribbling out over his fingers and dripping to
the floor.
He feels wrecked and he’s pretty sure he looks it too. He reaches across the
counter, feels his face flush unbelievably hot when Derek’s cock slides out
from between his legs and grabs at the roll of kitchen tissue.  He plucks some
off at the same time that he stands, feels come slide down his legs. He tries
to scoop it up in the tissue before it can run into his trousers and boxers.
He turns and passes some tissue to Derek who accepts it and whiles he’s
cleaning himself off Jackson does up his trousers and unabashedly checks out
Derek’s junk. He looks away when Derek looks up. He holds the tissue out for
Jackson and the teen sneers because either Derek has a fucked up sense of
humour or he just has an audacity that rivals even Jacksons.
“There’s this thing called a bin.” Jackson says inclining his head towards the
corner of the room where there is one. Derek just stares at him and Jackson
raises an eyebrow. “There’s also this thing called cleaning up after yourself.”
Like he’s going to throw away his client’s soiled tissues.
Derek says nothing just looks constipated for a minute before he throws the
tissues away, when he turns back around his jeans are done up properly.
“So were even now.” Jackson says because he needs confirmation, he hates owing
people it’s just as bad as signing your own death warrant in the kind of place
they live in.
Derek smirks. “Far from it.” He replies and Jackson looks at him sharply.
“You said it was just one payment.” Jackson says low, in an attempt to keep his
anger in check.
“I said no such thing.” Derek says coolly, he can feel the kid getting agitated
and Derek doesn’t know why it thrills him to know that with a few simple words
he can make him this angry, can draw such a strong reaction from him.
“What do you want?” Jackson asks through gritted teeth making the words sound
muffled and strained.
“Coffee.”
“Coffee?” Jackson repeats disbelievingly.  Derek shrugs. Jackson watches him
for a minute. “Then were even?” Jackson questions cautiously. Derek nods in the
affirmative although he’s not sure that’s entirely true, doesn’t know if
there’s a part of him that would want to coax Jackson into giving him more
sexual favours. Jackson looks reluctant but he nods then turns towards the
kettle.
Jackson puts a coaster down on the small dining table Derek’s sitting at before
he places the cup down and Derek wonders how much of Jackson’s life he thrives
to keep methodical. Now that he’s looking around he can see that the kitchen’s
spotless and from the kids appearance it’s clear he looks after himself as much
as he can. Derek’s not bothered by mess, he can leave dishes in the sink for
days. Can throw his clothes on the floor then pick them up and wear them the
next day. Some say it’s a character flaw. He would probably agree with them.
Jackson sips at his coffee, even with steam still wafting up from it. After a
minute he sits down opposite Derek, compulsively runs his thumb over a crease
in the thigh of his jeans.
“So the uh, the kid.” Derek starts and Jackson just looks at him, raises both
eyebrows. When he sees Jackson’s not going to bite he elaborates. “Is she
yours?” Jackson scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“Not one for small talk are you?”
Derek’s not one for any type of talk but Jackson doesn’t have to know that.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but she’s my sister.”  Derek wants to ask
where his parents are but something about Jackson’s posture tells him he
shouldn’t.
Jackson gets up a moment later and walks over to one of the kitchen drawers; he
pulls out paper and a pen and scrawls something onto it. Derek pretends he’s
not watching out of his peripheral vision as the kid comes over and drops the
piece of paper down in front of him.
Once Jackson’s back in his seat Derek picks up the paper and stares at the
digits on it. “My number, so you can call ahead of time. Can’t have you turning
up at my apartment every time you want a quick fuck, what will the neighbours
think.” Jackson comments and despite his best efforts not to, Derek smiles.
He doesn’t know what to say, what he should say so instead he just grabs the
handle of his cup, looks down at the deep blackness of it, he’s always
preferred white coffee.
“You got any creamer?”
Jackson passes it to him without a word and when Derek’s done with it he makes
sure to leave it on top of a coaster. 
***** Opiates *****
Chapter Notes
     PLEASE PLEASE READ THIS.
     Okay so this chapter took a bit of a dark turn.
     There’s mentions of past physical and sexual abuse to a child
     starting at the age of twelve and continuing to about fifteen years
     old. If this makes you uncomfortable in any way please refrain from
     reading it.
      
     I’ve set the chapter up and it consists of flashbacks from Jackson’s
     life and little snippets of the time himself and Derek have spent
     together. If the way I’ve laid it out confuses anyone can you let me
     know, so I can change it.
      
     Can I just say thank you again for all your comments and stuff, I
     literally grin every time I see an e-mail showing responses to my
     stories.
     So thanks for being awesome with the feedback.
      
     Enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think
     Dolorous Doll
     X
Jackson was happy once – safe even – content in the secureness of his little
nuclear family that consisted of himself, his mother and father and his newly
born baby sister.
He remembers the wholesome feeling of family the Sunday barbeques where he’d
huff at the portion of salad his mum would place onto his paper plate and the
visits to the park every Saturday where he’d always stand on the swing,
ignoring his father’s admonishing pleas that he sit on it. He’d disregard him
every time, just cling tighter to the metal chains and close his eyes, feel the
wind blow through his hair and think ‘this is what it feels like to fly’.
Jackson remembers a lot of things from his childhood even after everything he’s
been through, even when his body and mind were muted and muffled from drugs he
remembered.
Jackson’s life ends - metaphorically - at twelve years old, brutally and
unforgivingly torn away from him in a horrific clash of metal, tarmac and
blood.
It’s said that when you experience anything mentally scarring your brain will
conjure up a way to abate some of the feelings of dread. It’s said in time that
you heal, that the sensations will fade to memories, that they’ll be painful
but not destructive.  Everything in Jackson’s life has been destructive, his
relationships, his choices, it’s only fitting his brain betray him too.
You see Jackson remembers everything from the night his parents died.  The
memory hasn’t lessened it’s still vivid except sometimes he feels detached from
it as if he’s seeing it but his body can’t react – he’s immobile – frozen, he’s
stuck reliving the same nightmare and is unable to change it.
They were travelling in the car, the sky dark around them. They were coming
back from a party but for some reason Jackson can’t seem to recall what the
celebration was for. Jackson was struggling to stay awake, head lolling against
the car seat. His parents were still awake his mum in the passenger seat, his
dad driving quiet words being exchanged between them.  Jackson hated the idea
of being asleep when anyone else was awake, in some ways he felt that he would
miss out on something and he didn’t like that.
His sister began to cry from her position in the car seat beside him and
Jackson had started making the same ’shh shh’ sounds his mum would always make
to quieten her down except Jackson’s mum must have had magic mummy powers
because when Jackson did it she just screamed more.
His mum had turned to him with an indulgent smile. “Don’t take it personally
sweetie, Taya’s just teething aren’t you baby?” His mum said voice cooing at
the end as she turned her eyes to her little girl.
“I’m sure I’ve got some teethers in my bag.” His mum informed before taking off
her seat belt better allowing her to lean forward and reach into the footspace
where her handbag was.
This is where the imagines blur together in a sequence of screams and pain.
Jackson remembers the bright taillights heading straight for their car, his
father’s startled shout then the screeching of tyres.  The burning of rubber as
the car began to spin. He had shoved forwards the only thing keeping him from
smashing into the driver’s seat his seat belt cutting into his chest and neck.
His mother however wasn’t wearing one.  He remembers the smashing of the wind
screen, the crash of glass, the thick sharp shards disbanding outward.
Jackson remembers sobbing at the pain he felt, the slick of blood streaming
down his forehead, remembers  his attempts to quieten his sisters wails of
anguish, remembers his small fingers gripping onto the wolf teddy his parents
had gotten him for his eleventh birthday.
/
Derek sees Jackson once a week, sometimes at Derek’s apartment and other times
at Jackson’s. Derek prefers his own place because there’s only one room at
Jackson’s and it’s the one he shares with his little sister. There’s something
not quite right about fucking an underage boy in a room that’s filled with
cuddly toys and books that have more illustrations than words in them.
They’d practically smashed through the door to the bedroom at Jackson’s one day
kissing at biting at each other’s lips. Derek had tripped over a worn looking
grey and brown wolf toy, when they’d both looked down to see what he had
stumbled over Derek had kicked the toy away and the last thing he expected was
for Jackson to shove him and swoop down to pick the toy up. Jackson had
demanded that he get the fuck out and Derek had been too confused to question
it.
The next time they met Jackson had ridden himself on Derek’s cock with such
brutal enthusiasm he was surprised the teen hadn’t pulled a muscle. After
Jackson had sucked him back to hardness, then fucked him with his fingers.
Derek had came so hard some of his ejaculate had hit the bottom of his chin.
When Jackson was redressing Derek had asked him what the extra orgasm was for.
Jackson had just knelt over Derek’s still naked form, covered only by his thin
bed sheets. He’d kissed Derek deep and long before answering. “I cut our
session short last week, I was making up for it. I don’t like owing people.”
And it was fair of course it was because Jackson was a business man, they were
simply making transactions except no matter how much money Derek spent on him
Jackson wasn’t his. Derek had breathed out deeply, pushed his hands up the back
of Jackson’s t-shirt to feel the curve of his spine. “You don’t owe me
anything.”
/
Both his parents are dead and for some reason they get a child counsellor to
explain this to him, as if witnessing their mangled bodies wasn’t evidence
enough.
Jackson’s numb and understandably quiet after his parents die. Himself and his
sister are taken into custody and have to stay at a law enforced person’s home.
It’s uncomfortable. Jackson doesn’t have any of his belongings except his wolf
teddy but even that isn’t the same, it’s scraggly from where he’s continuously
pulled at its paws until eventually a seam had come loose, the black thread
curled and hanging from its cotton stuffed foot.
One night he quietly gets out of bed and tip toes into the nursery room their
keeping Taya in. She snuffles quietly in her sleep, the covers wrapped tight
around her. Jackson stands there and watches her for a long while before
unwrapping her a little and placing his index finger in her small palm. Her
hand curls around his finger instinctively, even in sleep and Jackson releases
a wet sob, breathing in an anxious shaky breath. He doesn’t want the people
looking after them to wake up. He barely gets to see his sister. The moment
they wake up they’re taken to offices where they have to talk to child
councillors and by the time they get back to the house they have dinner and
then it’s time for bed.
Jackson’s tired of lying to the councillors telling them that he’s fine and he
understands why his parents died, but he doesn’t understand and he’s not okay.
He’s lost and there’s a constant sick feeling within him that is nothing
physical but it feels dreadful and permanent, like a spreading disease.  
His sister makes a small gurgling sound and Jackson runs his thumb over the
expanse of her hand before sniffing.
“It’s okay.” He tells her. “I miss them too.”
/
Jackson meets Gerard Argent three weeks after the car crash. He tells him he’s
here to make things better, that he can help Jackson.  
Jackson’s sitting in a pale green armchair, legs swinging back and forth, his
scraped knees visible with the shorts he’s wearing.
Gerard walks in and for some reason his presence makes Jackson want to draw in
on himself. He seems austere. He kneels in front of Jackson.
“Jackson is it?” He asks and Jackson nods slowly.
“Nice to meet you Jackson, my names Gerard.” He reaches a hand out and Jackson
tentatively places his own into Gerard’s watches as a smile filters its way
onto the older man’s face.
“I’m here to help find you and your sister a home.” He explains and suddenly
Jackson’s all ears, keen to listen and cooperate. He can’t be separated from
his sister, he may be young but he’s not an idiot, he’s heard the lawyers
talking saying they’ll have to put them up for adoption because there’s no
immediate family to take them. They’ll be separated and he can’t let that
happen his sisters all he has left.
“Together?” he asks around a thick swallow and Gerard places a hand on his
knee, calloused palm fitting to the curve of his kneecap.
“Oh I don’t know about that.” Gerard says easy and smooth, leaning away
slightly. Jackson pushes forward in an attempt to stop Gerard but he doesn’t go
far, his eyes do shine though like Jackson’s just done something that’s pleased
him.
“I want to stay with her.” He says and it sounds more like a plea than a
demand.
Gerard looks contemplative for a minute, turning away before facing Jackson
once again.
“I suppose I could make sure you stay together but it won’t be easy. You see I
have friends in very high places; they can get you what you need so you and
your sister can stay together. But it’s not going to be easy; I need you to do
something Jackson. For me.”
Jackson can barely contain the relief he feels, the child laced naivety that
assures him that everything’s going to be okay.
“Anything, I’ll do anything.” He says with conviction and Gerard smiles except
this time it’s not easy at all, it’s predatory.
/
Gerard doesn’t break his promise and he was right he does have friends in
powerful places. He later finds out that Gerard is a lawyer, a pillar in the
community. So it remains unsuspicious when he announces he wants to adopt
Jackson and Taya. The adoption is quick and un-messy, but the exchange feels
cold, too much like a transaction rather than the act of extending a family.
He eventually finds out what Gerard wants in return for helping him. Jackson
understands the idea of sex but not the mechanics; it’s not something a twelve
year old thinks about so when Gerard tells him he wants to have sex with him,
Jackson’s confused and unsure.
“Things in life don’t come for free Jackson. I helped you and now you owe me.
 Do you want to be separated from your sister forever? Because I can make that
happen.”
“No I’m sorry. I’ll... I’ll do it.”
So he does.
/
Jackson sees Taya less and less. His days are planned out for him, methodical,
controlled. He wakes up at seven twenty has a bath and brushes his teeth. At
seven fifty he’s downstairs and eating breakfast, in the car by eight o clock
and at school by half past.
The house he lives in is big, he’s certain he hasn’t been in every room. It’s
never silent here, there’s always noise whether it be the sounds of Mozart that
Gerard seems to favour or the many visitors he has in and out at all times of
the day and night.  
As Jackson grows older, turns thirteen, his opinion on Gerard is mixed. He
doesn’t seem like a good man, unlike how he was when they first met.
He watches a video at school where they talk about bad people, strangers,
people who will try to take advantage of children that are Jackson’s age.
The teacher gets them to recite the phrases that the video encourages them to
say.
Stranger Danger.
No.
Leave me alone.
Help.
Jackson doesn’t join in once.
/
He meets Danny, one of Gerard’s co workers just before he turns fourteen.  He
becomes one of the rare things in Jackson’s life that makes him smile. One time
he brings his laptop over and let’s Jackson play on an online game where you
have to shoot animated bottles off of a fence. Jackson gets the top score the
first time he plays. Danny smiles, teeth white and large before he claps
Jackson on the shoulder.
“Your good at that.” He praises and Jackson feels himself beaming because the
acknowledgment that he’s good at something is something Jackson’s always
enjoyed, always revelled in.
There’s a lady a redhead who Jackson isn’t sure works for Gerard. Gerard
insists Jackson call her Auntie Victoria but it makes him feel sick because
aunts are supposed to be caring. This woman isn’t. She has rotund cruel eyes
and thin lips that Jackson has seen form a sneer many more times than they have
a smile.
He’s in the living room with Victoria and she’s feeding a bottle to Taya who’s
grown up so much Jackson barely recognises her.
Her hair’s thicker, still a platinum blonde but Jackson thinks the older she
gets the darker it’ll get because that’s exactly what happened to his hair.
He pads over to Victoria, bare feet skimming over the laminate flooring until
he’s standing beside her.
“Can I hold her?” He tentatively asks and out of habit holds out his hands. His
parents always let him hold her.
“Don’t be silly dear; you’re too young to hold a child.” Victoria says and she
attempts to make it sound caring and parental but Jackson can hear the tone
beneath it, can sense her barely concealed disdain towards him.
Jackson hates this, hates her, hates the way she holds his sister. She holds
her wrong. When Jackson tells her this she turns to him with bright angry eyes
and tells him to hold his tongue. He screams at her, punches and shoves at her
legs and yells at the top of his lungs because all he wants to do is hold Taya.
Victoria shifts Taya into one hand and with the other slaps him, a sharp
backhand that sends him reeling to the floor, a bloodied cut on his cheekbone
from a large ring that adorns her finger.
He doesn’t get back up.
/
Derek’s a complicated guy. He doesn’t talk much but when he does it’s as if
he’s saving up for the big things.  It’s as if he runs possible sentences
through his head before saying them because he’s worried about what people will
think if he says the wrong thing.
Their lying in bed and Jackson doesn’t make a habit of sticking around for the
afterglow but he’s sated and majorly out of breathe so he’s allowing himself a
few moments to collect himself.
Derek rolls onto his side and is quiet. Jackson can feel his eyes on him and
Jackson let’s him look but can’t bring himself to meet Derek’s gaze.
Derek lifts a hand slowly, cautiously, fingers twitching before he finally
lowers them places them to the inside of Jackson’s thigh where there’s several
track marks and Jackson’s entire body tenses. Derek pulls back, he doesn’t look
apologetic and Jackson wonders if his ego refuses to let him show anything but
carefully constructed indifference.  
He contemplates if Derek’s pushing his boundaries, if he’s testing him when he
leans down again and touches the track marks, this time with his mouth, a small
brush of lips. This time it doesn’t feel like he’s being prodded and judged, it
feels like Derek’s accepting them and what the fuck does that even mean?
Derek shifts, pushes up on his knees lightly and presses a kiss to Jackson’s
stomach and for a moment Jackson looses himself in it, closes his eyes, feels
his stomach tremble and releases a shaky breath. Only for a moment though
because this is Jackson’s job. Derek only paid him enough to fuck him once and
they did that. Jackson should be gone already, half way back to his apartment,
not still in bed with his client, not revellingin his touch.
“You only paid for one session.” He blurts out and wonders why he feels so
impertinent when he’s just stating the facts.
Derek’s lips still and for a moment Jackson wishes he hadn’t said anything at
all. The silence is deafening, he’s naked and Derek’s nose is still lightly
pressed against his stomach.
“If..if you want to fuck me again you can, I just need the money.” Jackson
hasn’t stuttered in years, hasn’t felt the nerves that cause it.
“What about if I just wanted to do this?” Derek asks, presses another kiss to
his skin, this time it’s open mouthed and Jackson watches as Derek’s lips part
and his tongue smoothes out.
Jackson holds his lips tightly together, tries to keep the whimper in. He
manages it, just.
He runs his thumb over the sharp jut of Jackson’s hip bone before he kisses at
the skin beside Jackson’s bellybutton.
“Would you charge me then?” He questions, looks up at Jackson and the teen
doesn’t know what to say. Has never had a client want to do this to him.
Whatever this is.
Jackson’s shoulders are still pushed up against the pillows, hands curled into
loose fists by his sides. He shakes his head because he doesn’t know if he’s
capable of speaking just yet. Derek seems to understand though, understands the
permission Jackson’s giving him. He looks quietly pleased, there’s no smile but
there’s a suggestion of it in his eyes.
He kisses Jackson’s stomach again. 
/
When Gerard tries to take him to bed again its a few days after his fourteenth
birthday. He thinks of the words from class, thinks about telling his teachers
but then he realises that if he does they’ll take Taya away and he can’t be
away from her, can’t risk losing the only family he has left.
He lies on the bed and Gerard kneels over him, fingers running over his school
tie, shifting to flick at the buttons on his shirt. He releases a thick sob,
one hand fisted in the sheets as he looks up at Gerard and begs him not to do
this again.
He remembers the pain from last time, the oddness but most of all the confusion
because his body has never felt like that, has never felt so out of control.
He kicks up when Gerard doesn’t stop, but the older mans bigger and stronger
than him and he shoves the sleeve of Jackson’s shirt up.
Gerard holds his wrist in a tight grip before tying a band around his upper
arm. He presses a sharp needle at the supple skin of his forearm and Jackson
stills at the feeling of it.  
“Let’s make you a little more complaisant shall we?” He mumbles voice smoke
rough before he presses on the end of the injection plunger.
Jackson feels euphoria, feels loose and for the first time in a long time
happy, artificial or not it’s better than the alternative.
Jackson begins spending most of his days in bed, itching for more of the sweet
nectar Gerard had given him. He wants it, it helped him forget; let him feel
like he could fly, like he was standing on the park swing again.
He lets himself be willingly taken, opens his legs or slips down to his knees
if it means he can get another fix.
It works until Gerard starts giving him less, starts asking Jackson to work
harder for it and Jackson does because he needs the feeling the drugs bring.
Jackson knows it’s gone too far, that he’s reached the point of no return when
he hears Taya crying, screaming her lungs out and he finds he doesn’t care to
do much about it. He just lies in bed and stares at the ceiling drifting in and
out. Knew it had gone too far when Gerard left him without a fix for a week and
he’d thrown up all down himself, laid in the foetal position on the floor of
the bathroom and muttered to himself, body shaking with spasms.  
Danny finds him and for a minute Jackson thinks he must still be feeling the
effects of the drugs because it looks like Danny’s body is vibrating but then
Jackson see’s the translucent wetness falling from his eyes and he releases
that Danny’s crying. Is shaking from his hiccupped sobs.
“You’re crying.” He slurs and feels Danny’s large hands on either side of his
face. His head just lolls like someone’s snapped his spinal cord, he’s
debilitated.  
“Oh god Jackson, what the hell have they done to you?”
Danny sounds upset and Jackson wants to tell him, wants to explain that Gerard
has helped him has made him feel so good. But the words don’t come out, nothing
does. His eyes fall shut and when he wakes up the sick around his mouth has
been cleared away and he’s in bed.
/
Jackson almost forgets it’s his birthday. That he’s fifteen now. He spends it
with a needle in his arm and Gerard between his legs. The sex gets better after
time and Jackson doesn’t know if it’s the drugs that make it better or the fact
that he’s gotten used to it. His breathings slow and he can’t get hard with the
drugs rushing through his system but Gerard runs a hand through his sweat
soaked hair and tells him he’s been good, been perfect and Jackson feels
himself smile before he falls asleep.
 Three weeks later Danny approaches him, Jackson barely remembers much of their
conversation from beforehand but it seems like Danny’s permanent casualness is
lacking today.
They’re in the study and Danny locks the door. For a moment Jackson’s heart
lodges itself into his throat and he thinks – how could he not – that Danny’s
going to demand the same things of him that Gerard does.
“I’ve got something for you.” Danny tells him before pulling out a small bag
from behind him. He unzips it and pulls out a syringe.   
 “It’s morphine. This stuff is weaker; I’ll have to use it to wean you off of
what Gerard’s been giving you.”
Jackson frowns. “Why?”  He asks.
Danny stares at him with wide eyes. “Jackson you can see how this is wrong,
can’t you? What Gerard’s doing to you?”
Jackson closes his eyes. “I owe him-“
“You don’t owe him anything.”  Danny promises and he sounds a mix between rage
filled and sickened.
“If I’d have known.” Danny stops and swallows hard, looks Jackson directly in
the eye.
“If I’d have known what he was going to do...going to do to you, I never would
have helped him gain custody. Let me help you.”
“How?” Jackson asks and detests the fact that his voice breaks.
“I can get you out of here, you and your sister but we need to get you off of
the heroin Gerard’s been giving you.”
“I can’t.” Jackson tells him instead of admitting that he’s petrified that if
he does run Gerard will find him. Is scared of what Gerard could do to Taya if
Jackson disobeys him.
“Yes, you can. Jackson I can get you fake papers, passports. Can give you
enough money to get you started.”
Jackson shakes his head, bites on his lip. “If he finds out you helped me...”
He starts and Danny shrugs attempts at care free but his shoulders are tense
and his eyes hard.
“I can get everything you’ll need to get away within the next few weeks. Enough
morphine to help you get off of the heavy stuff, it’ll hurt like a bitch but
you can do it.”
Jackson’s heart is pounding in his chest, a nervous sickening thrum.  He wants
to tell Danny that he doesn’t know if he can do this but he’s shown enough
weakness already.
“Okay.” He says and takes the morphine.
He runs away four weeks later on the eve of his sixteenth birthday. It’s early
in the morning and Danny arranges to pick him up outside of the house and drive
Jackson and Taya to the closest bus station.
Jackson’s watching the blur of street lights through the window, turns around
to look at Taya sleeping in the backseat. He gets a sickening déjà vu at the
same time he feels his throat clam up.
“Jackson?” Danny asks quiet and concerned in the driver’s seat.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” He admits and leans forward, head between his
knees as he shoves out harsh pushes of breath.
Danny pulls over on the side of the road, places a hand onto the middle of
Jackson’s back and leans down in an attempt to make eye contact with the teen.
“Jackson, yes you can. You are going to do this do you hear me. You have to.
Look.” He says then he’s pulling Jackson up by the collar of his shirt and
turning his face around so Jackson’s eyes fall onto Taya.
“You see her Jacks, your baby sister. You’re all she has and that’s why you’re
gonna do this. Why you’re gonna start a new life and get off of that crap
you’ve been shovelling into your body.”
Taya’s his weakness, always has been. Even more so now that she’s all Jackson
has. Still though he feels tears in his eyes, a worrying sickness because
Jackson still needs the morphine hasn’t managed to wean himself completely off
of it yet. And he knows what he’s like with it, incomprehensible, useless. How
is he supposed to look after a four year old and himself when he’s still got a
drug problem? When the high light of his day is sinking that needle into his
flesh, poking through his veins until he feels semi normal again?
Jackson’s strong though; he’s lived through losing his parents, lived through
losing his freedom and his innocence. He can live through this.
He turns around until he’s looking out through the windscreen.
“Start the car.” He says and Danny places a hand onto his shoulder, squeezes
before he turns the key in the ignition.
/
He uses the money Danny gave him as a deposit for an apartment and the rest on
food and clothes for Taya.
Jackson only has a few shots of morphine left so the first few nights he tries
to do without it. He ends up shaking on the bed, his limbs ache and he whimpers
in frustration, fingers scrambling at his hair then his arms, where he
scratches obsessively.
He rushes out of the house and starts to run. He runs and he runs and he runs
but still his memories chase him, his cravings chase him. He keeps running
until it feels as if his tendons are stretched out, it’s only then that he
feels calm that he feels the cravings dissipate even if it’s only by the
slightest increment.
When he goes back to the apartment Taya’s still fast asleep. Jackson slides his
index finger into the curve of her palm like he did all those years ago. Her
fingers curl around his and he thinks briefly that something’s never change.
/
He searches for a job the next day, looks through the newspapers and visits the
local diners and bars. He get’s rejections from everyone. They all look at
Jackson as if he’s untrustworthy and he doesn’t know why. Is it obvious he’s
not from around here?  He keeps his arms covered so they wouldn’t know that
he’s been using drugs. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s carrying around a four
year old with him. Either way he remains jobless, the heating cuts out because
Jackson can’t afford to pay for it. He burns through the money Danny gave him
on food for Taya because she’s still growing and she needs to eat.  He goes
without food but most of the time he doesn’t have an appetite, can barely drink
water without wanting to throw it back up again.
One day Taya starts crying and she won’t stop. She’s screaming and Jackson
can’t remember why, all he can focus on is the blood rushing in his head. The
frantic beat of his pulse and the need for a hit.
He turns around and shouts at her to shut up. He grips her arm when she
doesn’t, shakes her and when she falls silent and stares at him with tear wet
terrified eyes Jackson almost chunder’s. This isn’t who he is, he moved away to
give Taya a better life not do this to her. Not treat her as he had been
treated.
“I’m sorry Tay, I’m sorry. I’m just tired okay? How about we put you to bed?”
Taya nods slowly but Jackson has a feeling that this is something she won’t
forget, something Jackson won’t either.
He stays in the room until she falls asleep and then slips out into the night.
He knows what he wants, he knows what he’s looking for and he sees it in a
middle aged bald man who’s stumbling down the street.
When Jackson approaches him the man licks his lips, swings backwards almost
dropping the bottle of alcohol he’s holding.
“What are you doin out here kid?” The guy slurs around a leer and Jackson
pushes away all the doubt, all the anger, all the self hatred and steps up to
the guy, bites at his lip.
“Looking for some company.” He says and the guy laughs. He drags Jackson over
to an alley, shoves him down onto his knees, fucks his throat hard and throws
the money at him when he’s done.
Jackson throws up twice once he gets home but the heating’s back on the next
day and to him that’s all that matters.
/
Four months later Jackson meets Derek.
/
Jackson drops Taya off at her pre-school and when he gets back to the apartment
he’s itching for a hit. Some days it’s worse than others and today it’s
infinitely harder than it was yesterday.
His skin feels too tight and his throat clammy. It’s times like these when
Jackson wishes he could still contact Danny could ask his advice and listen to
his soothing voice, assuring Jackson that he doesn’t needthe drugs. But Danny’s
not here and Jackson’s itching for a hit so bad, the desperation unfathomable.
He thumbs through his phone, needing to call someone, anyone. He pauses when he
sees Derek’s name, gives himself a second to contemplate the consequences
before he presses dial.
He picks up after four rings.
“Hello?”
“Derek.” Jacksons not sure what his voice sounds like, but it can’t be good
with the way that Derek replies.
“Are you okay? What’s happened?” And the god damned idiot actually sounds
worried.
“Hey! Jackson, I said are you okay?” Jackson briefly closes his eyes and shakes
his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts.
“I..no. No I’m not. I need a hit, I need one bad.”
Derek’s quiet for such a long time that Jackson pulls the phone away to check
the screen, to see if Derek hung up, but he hasn’t. Jackson watches as the
numbers tick up indicating how long they’ve been on the phone together. One
minute, twenty three seconds.
He hears a muffled sentence through the phone and rushes to place it against
his ear.
“Wait what?”
Derek huffs indignantly. “I said I’ll be right over just, don’t do anything
stupid.” Before Jackson has a chance to reply Derek hangs up.
There’s a hard knocking on his front door less than ten minutes later and
Jackson opens it with his back turned, goes to lean against the wall in the
hallway.
He watches as Derek shuts the door and approaches him weary faced.
“I didn’t have anyone else to call.” Jackson explains and realises how utterly
pathetic he sounds. He had to call one of his clients to come and be a drug
sponsor for him because he has no friends to uphold that position.
“I haven’t had any withdrawals in such a long time, but today...” Jackson cuts
himself off, takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes.
“I feel like my heads going to explode.” He admits and he remembers what Danny
told him, if the withdrawals get too bad he needs a distraction. Derek’s
distraction enough. He opens his eyes and Derek’s watching him like he can’t
quite figure him out. He’s on guard and confused like he sees Jackson in front
of him asking for his help but he’s not quite sure what to do with him.
Jackson can feel himself sweating, his skin heating up, the irritable
beginnings of a fever so he lurches forward to kiss Derek.
“C’mon.” Jackson whispers against Derek’s lips, hands shoving at the older
man’s jacket.
“What are you doing?” Derek asks pressing a hand against Jackson’s shoulder and
gently pushing him away.
The teen squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth, fingers fisting in Derek’s
jacket.
“You’re supposed to have a distraction when you feel the withdrawals kicking
in, do I really need to explain how you’re a distraction?”
Jackson can feel himself beginning to shake and he’s so close to telling Derek
to just get the hell out, to find some guy on the street to fuck so he can rid
himself of this sick achy feeling.  But then Derek’s grabbing his hands,
holding them between them and squeezing them by the slightest increment.
“I’ve got an idea.” Derek says then his touch is gone and Jackson hears the
front door being opened.
“Derek.” Jackson says, frustrated and breathy because he can’t wait, he’s being
bombarded with all these sensations he thought had stopped; it feels
unbearable, overwhelming in its level of affliction.
“Trust me.” Derek voices and Jackson finds it in him to nod stiffly before he’s
following Derek down the stairs and into his car.
He taps his fingers against his knee as they travel to god knows where. Jackson
looks out the window at the blur of buildings which soon turns into a blur of
trees. The roads become dense and make way to grassy areas, then their driving
through forestry. There’s a dirt road path, clearly made by various cars having
driven through the same spot. Derek’s car flicks up dust from the path and it
clouds up, covers his wind screen for a brief moment before dissipating.
The trees eventually thin enough to reveal a small grassy area and a large
river bank. Derek parks up and without saying a word gets out of the car.
Jackson follows close behind, feet feeling heavy like his bodies fighting
against what his brains telling it to do. They reach the edge of the river bank
where the grass is overgrown, softer and slightly yellowing towards the top of
the strands.
“What are we doing her-“Jackson doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence
because before he can he’s shoved harshly and he topples over the edge of the
bank crashing down into the water hard.
The moment he goes under, he feels his head pound, feels bits of river weed
tangle up around his ankles.  He flails his arms and pushes up to the water’s
surface gasping in a shuddering breath when he reaches the top.
“What the fuck, are you fucking insane!” He shouts hoarsely, blinking up at
Derek as muggy river water drips down his face.
“Maybe.” Derek says then he’s taking his jacket and shoes off and crouching,
pressing one hand onto the edge of the bank and jumping over until he lands in
the water next to Jackson. The impact his body makes with the water sloshes it
up and it hits Jackson’s already drenched face.
Jackson still doesn’t understand why the hell Derek pushed him into a goddamn
dirty stinking river but it’s pissed him the hell off. He goes to take a swing
at Derek because really who the hell shoves another person into a river but the
older man just catches his fist and shoves it away.
“What the hell is your problem?” Jackson barks, feels himself swaying with the
strong current of the river.
“The withdrawals are gone?”  Derek asks though it seems like he knows the
answer. Jacksons too dumbfounded and quietly impressed that Derek had even done
that, had thought this through enough to plan something like this. Jackson
slowly nods. Derek nods back then their silent the only sounds the minute
rustle of leaf covered trees and the slosh of water where it pools around their
waists.
Whether he helped or not, Jackson’s soaked and Derek’s getting punished for
it.  Jackson pushes his palm against the water conjuring up a small wave that
hits Derek square in the chest. The older man looks shocked then his eyes
narrow with an inkling of mischief. He charges after Jackson and the teen’ll
never admit it but he lets out a squawk when he’s tackled and slammed into the
water. He drags Derek down with him and when they both break through to the
surface it starts all over again. They wrestle, push and pull at each other
splashing water in every which direction.
Jackson’s face muscles begin to ache from the continuous cheek splitting grin
he’s got on his face but he can’t find it in himself to care because for the
first time in a long time, he feels like a kid, he feels happyand Derek’s the
reason for that, he’s the reason for a lot of things Jackson’s been feeling
lately and he still hasn’t decided if that’s a good thing or not.
/
They haven’t got long, Jackson said he’s busy and by busy he means meeting up
with another client and Derek doesn’t even want to get into how nauseous the
thought makes him.  Jackson has him on the bed in no time, jeans messily shoved
down to his knees. He bites at the inside of Derek’s thighs, thumbs over the
small, slightly curled hairs on his legs and then blows him like a fucking pro,
fingers split slick and travelling down to curve over Derek’s entrance. A
slight bit of pressure and Derek’s coming hard and fast down Jackson’s throat.
Derek’s body spasms, feet sliding against his bed sheets as he comes down from
his orgasm. He feels Jackson pull away and his throat clams up with an odd
sense of melancholy. He doesn’t want him to leave, doesn’t want him to get
fucked by some sleaze. He pushes up and Jackson leans back to accommodate him,
a confused frown on his face.
“Derek?” He questions, curiously and a little wearily when the older man pushes
at his shoulder.
Jackson’s hard, his cock prominent through his jeans and curling towards the
left. Derek palms over the bulge and Jackson’s eyes go wide.
“You don’t have to.” He says whisper quiet and Derek says nothing just starts
undoing his zipper.
He curls his hand into Jackson’s boxers, exhales heavily through his nostrils
and just watcheswith a persistent kind of engrossment when Jackson’s head tips
back and a cut off moan creeps out of his mouth.  He starts moving his hand up
and down, small languid movements, with Jackson’s boxers still on he can’t move
his hand much but he can move it enough. He takes his hand away long enough to
open the buttons on Jackson’s boxers and pull his cock out. He noses at
Jackson’s jaw line, presses warm wet kisses to his neck, revels in the sounds
Jackson makes, quiet moans then broken gasps like Derek’s hurting him.
Derek hasn’t blown anyone in a long time but that doesn’t stop him from
travelling down Jackson’s body. His mouths level with Jackson’s cock in a split
second, fast enough that the teen doesn’t notice the absence of Derek’s hand
until it’s replaced by his mouth.
Jackson gasps then his body twists, back arching, legs tensing like he’s not
sure whether he should push up into Derek’s mouth or pull away from it. Derek
makes the decision for him, he curls his arm around the back of Jackson’s right
leg and it pulls it to the side, giving himself more room to manoeuvre his
head. He lets Jackson’s cock rub against the inside of his cheek, feels the
heady salty taste of pre come dance over his tongue.
Jackson’s hands travel down fingers gliding through Derek’s hair and for some
reason that makes Derek’s face go hot and something sickly sweet stir in his
gut. He sucks hard collecting all the excess saliva then moves up to lap at the
head of Jackson’s cock.
“Derek.”  Jackson says breathlessly and yeah Derek revels in that a bit. He
reluctantly moves away from the lower half of Jackson’s body when the teen
pulls at the collar of his t-shirt. Jackson tugs him down, kisses him long and
slow, languid slides of his tongue against Derek’s own.  
Derek reaches his hand down between them, jerks Jackson off his saliva slicking
the way helping his hand to glide down more smoothly. All the while he kisses
Jackson, let’s the teen dig his nails into his  shoulders; run his fingers
through Derek’s gel hard hair until he’s coming, spilling all over Derek’s fist
and fingers.
They kiss breathlessly, noses bumping together and chests heaving.
Derek’s not sure how long they stay like that, long enough that the come on his
hand goes tepid. Jackson shifts beneath him and Derek pulls back enough to be
able to look at his face.
“I have to go.” Jackson tells him disconsolately and fuckhe couldn’t make his
reluctance anymore prominent.  Derek doesn’t ask him to stay though because he
has no right to. Jackson’s just a boy who he rents, a boy who other people
rent.
So he doesn’t say anything as Jackson cleans himself up, doesn’t say anything
as the kid silently stands at Derek’s apartment door as if he’s waiting for
something, doesn’t say anything when later on in the day Derek sees him and
Jackson smells like another man’s aftershave.
He doesn’t say anything.
Not one god damned thing. 
***** Volition *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Its four o clock in the morning and Jackson’s waiting by the docks for Derek to
finish up his shift.  Derek pulls up on the side of the curb and Jackson jogs
over, brows furrowing when he can’t open the door. He looks up to see childish
glee in Derek’s eyes before the older man leans over and pulls the door car
lock up. Jackson rolls his eyes but there is a small amused quirk of a smile on
his face. When he hops into the car he makes a loud sound something between a
scoff and a gasp and covers his nose with his palm.
“Dude, you reek.” He comments, spare hand going to scroll down the car window
as Derek starts driving and lighting up a cigarette simultaneously.
“Don’t make me rub my armpit on you.” Derek jibes and Jackson sneers.
Five minutes down the road Jackson groans.
“Seriously though you like stink of fish.” He says not unkindly and Derek
shrugs, flicks his cigarette butt out through his window.
“I like it.” He says and Jackson raises an eyebrow.
“You like smelling of fish?” He questions, outraged and Derek tsks. 
“I meant my job jackass.” Derek replies before taking a left.
“What’s so fun about slinging fish around?”  The kid asks, genuinely curious
because honestly there’s only so much fun you can have with hoisting slimy dead
scaly things from one place to another.
“When were out in the boats getting the fish, that’s the good part. The open
ocean, hoisting up the sail. The thing about boats is that they can get you
anywhere.”  Derek explains and Jackson purses his lips in thought. He’s never
been out of America, has never really wanted to. It’s familiar if not a little
repetitive but that’s what he likes about it, he knows what to expect.
“Where would you go?” Jackson queries, fingers tapping at the plastic beneath
the cars window.
“Wherever I wanted.” Derek replies and the teen sometimes wonders if Derek has
problems with sharing because he never elaborates, he gives you enough
information, enough of an answer without actually tellingyou anything.
“Where would you want to go?” The older man asks a moment later and Jackson
turns to face him, shrugs.
“I dunno, maybe Aruba. It’s supposed to be nice there.”
Derek nods. “Good choice.” He comments. Their quiet for a little while, the
radio on low in the background when Jackson notices they missed the turning for
Derek’s apartment.
“Hey where are we going?”
Derek looks around before blinking confusedly like he hadn’t realised what he
was doing.
“Kathy’s all night diner, I’m starving.”
Jackson rolls his eyes.
“Hey you try working a ten hour shift and tell me how you’d feel.” Derek
defensively says and Jackson smirks.
“Whatever.”
They get the food as takeout once they get there. Derek orders half the menu
and he’s the type of complicated eater who has to have a different sauce on one
thing and every bit of salad except onions on another just to be difficult.
Jackson says he doesn’t want anything but Derek orders him sweet potato fries
anyway. The fries are beyond delicious and after they’ve eaten Derek parks up
behind a mound on the opposite side of Kathy’s diner’s parking lot.
Jackson undoes his seatbelt and when he reaches across to kiss Derek, it tastes
like the salt from the fries and the artificial sugar from the soda Derek
drank.
They fuck in the backseat of the car and Jackson’s pretty sure he’s caused
himself some minor brain damage from his head continuously banging into the car
window handle. He’s on his back with Derek knelt between his legs, hips fucking
back and forth until Jackson pulls him down, holds him tight and pants against
his mouth, feeling too frenzied for proper kisses.
It feels filthy, filthier still because Derek hasn’t even got his pants off for
Christ’s sake, there just pulled open at the front enough that his cocks out
and Jackson’s completely naked, back chaffing against the rough material of the
backseats.
“Fuck me, fuck me.” Jackson repeats, a heated mantra and he knows it’s
pointless because Derek already isbut it’s worth it because the words spur
Derek on, make him shove Jackson’s legs wider, grab the teens hips and pull
Jackson back onto his cock.  It hurts, but it hurts good, they’d scrimped on
the lube because Derek only had a small amount left in the glove box of his
car, so every drag of Derek’s cock inside of him causes friction.
He wraps his legs tighter around Derek’s hips, sweaty thighs sliding against
the older man’s rib cage. “Faster.” He breaths until he can’t anymore, until it
sounds like he’s hiccupping, every word and moan hitching and breaking as he
drags his nails down Derek’s shoulders blades, leaving stinging scratch marks
behind.
Derek gasps Jackson’s name, breath hot and sticky against his cheek, lips
catching and dragging over the teens flushed face. It’s absolute.
After they climax and Derek’s catching his breath, face pushed into Jackson’s
sweaty neck; Jackson reaches up and drags his heated hand through a
condensation laced window.  Feeling the slight movement Derek looks up at to
see what he’s doing and scoffs.
“What? Everyone needs a Titanic moment.” Jackson shrugs when Derek sends him an
unimpressed look.
“Yeah, except that car they did it in was a lot nicer than this one.” Derek
admits and Jackson laughs, a little punched out appeased noise.
“And I’m pretty sure neither one of them really reeked of fish.”  Jackson
comments with a little smirk and in retaliation Derek nips at his shoulder. The
sensations more pleasant than painful so Jackson tips his head to the side and
raises his arms, hands smearing against the window except his time it isn’t
intentional at all.   
They eat their left over takeaway as the suns coming up, sitting on the hood of
the car. The city looks different at this time of day not as washed out as it
usually is. The skies mostly blue at the moment with streaks of orange and pink
brushed through it. It looks peaceful in a way that only ad’s on the television
are capable of providing.
“This city is actually kind of beautiful.” Jackson says and Derek lies back
against the hood, eyes on Jackson.
“Yeah.” He sighs. “Yeah it is.”
/
As a child Derek was observant. He had an older sister so watching her go
through the troubles of puberty before him was somewhat irritating and
fortunate. Irritating because she had a hell of a temper on her when she was on
her period and fortunate because if he ever had trouble understanding something
or his hormones annoyed the fuck out of him his sister would understand, would
take his side if he ever got in an argument with his parents even if he was
overbearing and in the wrong.
A flaw of being so observant was that Derek knew his parents were going to get
divorced even before they announced it. They told him and his sisters after a
family meal of roast beef. Said bullshit things about how it wouldn’t change
anything, how they’d still love him and his sisters equally. His mum wasn’t any
happier when Derek’s dad left if anything she was sadder, more easily irritated
and Derek hated it, hated coming home and watching his mum wallow in sadness,
in bitter feelings when Derek’s dad told her he’d started seeing someone else.
Watching her break apart slowly made him angry, made him want to scream at his
mum to look after him and his sisters.  She withdrew into herself and when one
day himself and Laura went to wake her for breakfast and her stuff was gone
everyone but Derek was surprised. She’d left a letter. Derek hadn’t bothered to
read it and sometimes he wonders if he should have. But what could she have
possibly said that wasn’t indicated by her leaving. That she couldn’t handle
her divorce or having to take care of her three kids. That she’d rather leave
her children than have to face being alone, that she’s taken the easy way out,
that she’s being selfish.
Laura had been crying, clutching the letter and shaking her head.
“I don’t understand why she would leave, if she needed help we would have been
there for her.”
Derek shrugged from where he had been standing in the corner of the room. His
eyes burned with the need to cry, but he wasn’t going to, he wouldn’t allow
himself to feel something for someone who abandoned him.
“She couldn’t handle looking after us, it doesn’t matter she’s not our problem
anymore.”
After a while Derek began to think that being emotionally closed off ran in the
family because he too started shutting his feelings down, would ignore his
sisters attempts to talk to him. He didn’t want to talk; he didn’t want to be
close to anyone. What was the point? All that happened was that you placed your
trust into someone and they used it to break you apart. Derek didn’t want that,
he didn’t want to give anyone the opportunity to hurt him even if it was family
because his mother proved that no matter how close you are to someone you can
hurt them, relentlessly and unapologetically.  
Derek had seen what love could do. He honestly couldn’t understand it. It was
completely incomprehensible. Why would you want to fall in love? To fall in
love was allowing another person to hold utter control over you and your
emotions.  To be that open, to be that vulnerable with someone – it was simply
careless.
/
Derek hasn’t drunk in a long time; he doesn’t have any tolerance for it. When
he drinks its excessive to the point that he’ll wake up the next day and have
blanks in his memory.  He rarely drinks but when he does, he likes to take full
advantage of it.
He remembers being at the bar, a dingy country bar where the tables were sticky
with spilt beer and the music of Robin Loxley blared out through the speakers.
 The bright red lights hanging low from the ceiling had tinted everything a
warm crimson and Derek felt his eyes lidding as he inclined his fingers and
beckoned the bar tender over.
He was a pretty little thing, deep black hair that was noticeably dyed, rotund
warm brown eyes and a lip piercing that looked fresh, the skin surrounding the
silver bar having turned a harsh pink.
Pretty yes but not Jackson. Jackson who Derek finds is the reason he’s
drinking.
Derek doesn’t like to feel, doesn’t like to get close, to make himself
vulnerable and it’s a raw statement to his sanity that the first person he
breaks these adamantine rules for is a whore.
Derek doesn’t know what it is about him, what it is about Jackson that makes
Derek care, that makes Derek wonder about him, wonder what his life was like
before Derek met him, wonder what he’s doing when Derek’s at work or when he’s
lying in bed and listening to the loud clatter and gurgle of water rushing
through the pipes beneath his thin apartment walls.
It’s just after three in the morning and their closing up the bar. The
bartender claps Derek on the arm, offers to call him a cab but Derek waves him
off, ignores the tentative smile on the guys face.
He stumbles out of the bar, feels a hiccup rise up through his chest before he
turns towards Jackson’s apartment building. It’s close to here; it’s only when
Derek’s drudging up the stairs that he wonders if Jackson’s got a client. Derek
finds he doesn’t care if he interrupts them.
He trips over his own feet, feels the rumble of his laugh before he rests his
forehead against Jackson’s apartment door.  He grumbles Jackson’s name before
he knocks rasping his knuckles against the plastic door a few times before the
knocks become harder and more closely spaced together.  He hears muffled steps,
the closing of a door before the apartment door inches open a tiny bit and he
sees blue narrowed eyes glaring at him from the ajar space.
“Derek what the hell?” Jackson whispers furiously and Derek pushes his palms
out on either side of his body and grins because finally Jackson’s answered the
door and Derek doesn’t know why that feels like some sort of an achievement.
“You not gonna invite me in?” Derek asks resting his forearms against either
side of the doorframe.  
Jackson looks behind him and Derek watches as his fingers curl around the edge
of the door where he’s holding it open.
“Taya’s asleep.” Jackson says and it sounds like an excuse, like he wants to
ask Derek to leave but isn’t sure how to.
“And you’re drunk; I don’t want you around her like this.”
Derek scoffs at the ridiculousness of that because only a few weeks ago he
helped Jackson when he was itching for a fix and now the kids stressing over a
little bit of alcohol.
“Says the junkie.” Derek sneers and revels in the widening of Jackson’s eyes.
 After what Derek had done for Jackson the kid should be thankful not sending
him away the first chance he gets. It seems that if Derek’s not paying him or
helping him evade his withdrawals Jackson couldn’t care less about him.  
“Get the hell away from my house before I call the cops.” Jackson says and
Derek’s sober enough to see how serious the kid is.
“I got money, how about if I pay you huh, will you let me in then?” Derek asks
around a cruel grin, words whispered acerbically.
The door swings open so quickly Derek’s alcohol addled brain takes a moment to
register it but then Jackson’s fist connects with his face and Derek falls to
the floor.
He doesn’t feel any pain but he knows he will tomorrow when he wipes at his
nose, draws his hand back and sees blood coating his fingers. When he looks up
the doors closed but when he shuts his eyes and listens closely enough he can
hear Jackson’s laboured breathes coming from the other side.
And sitting there on the floor, dejected and drunk Derek realises that
this,this is why he doesn’t allow himself to care because he fucks up. Every.
Single. Time.
/
Derek wakes to a sharp banging against his apartment door. The first thing he
does is groan, clutch blindly at his head then his nose which is throbbing.  He
sits up cautiously and feels his stomach do a little flip. His mouth makes a
sticky discontent sound when he parts his lips and he sways before standing on
shaky legs and making his way to the apartment door where the knocking hasn’t
ceased.
“Alright, alright.” He grumbles loudly and hopes it isn’t his landlord because
he’s paid his rent already god dammit.
He’s running one hand over his sleep crusted eyes when he yanks the door open
to see Jackson on the other side looking unimpressed and a little choleric.
Last night comes back in flashes, small sequences and on some areas it blanks
out and he wishes he could remember.  He recalls harsh words being thrown back
and forth between them but he can’t remember exactly what was said, he knows he
was abhorrent though.
 “Thought I’d come make sure you hadn’t passed out in a puddle of your own
sick.” Jackson breaks the silence and Derek huffs.
He lets Jackson slide into the apartment, watches him pause by the bed before
turning around to face Derek.
“I overdid it last night.” Derek admits, hands feeling detached and uncouth
where they hang by his sides.
“You were a dick last night.” Jackson corrects and Derek scowls.
“What did you come here for anyway because if it was to gloat you can just get
out.” Derek says because he gets it, he was an idiot yesterday but he doesn’t
need this kid to remind him of that fact, to taunt him about it.
Derek doesn’t want to argue, thinks for a moment that it shouldn’t be this
difficult, that they shouldn’t even talk outside of what they do but yet here
they are. It seems like Jackson doesn’t want to fight either because for once
he’s silent no sarcastic comments, no witty come backs.
“I fancy coffee.” Jackson says and Derek looks startled for a moment before
looking towards the kitchenette.
“I’ve got coffee.” He replies and then they stare at each other for a minute
before Jackson smirks. “Get to it then.” The kid orders and Derek rolls his
eyes before gathering the cups.  
Their silent as the kettle boils, Derek running his index and forefingers over
his sorehead and Jackson standing with his back against the counter.
Derek heaps two spoonfuls of sugar into Jackson’s coffee before sliding it on
the counter over to him and Jackson wonders when Derek found out about his
coffee preferences and he contemplates if this is getting out of line. What
they have. What they’re doing. If any other person spoke to Jackson as Derek
did last night he wouldn’t think twice about cutting them out of his life let
alone coming to see them the next day. But he had been worried, even after he’d
slammed the door on Derek he wanted to open it straight back up, to coax him
inside and make him sleep off the alcohol.
He doesn’t realise he’s staring into space until Derek nudges at his calf with
his foot.  
Jackson shakes his head before turning to Derek a small embarrassed smile on
his face.
“Hm?” Jackson hums.
“Nothin.” Derek mumbles hand wrapped around his coffee cup.
Derek leans down, head making a little abortive motion and Jackson keeps
himself still, stares straight ahead as Derek inclines his head to press a
chaste kiss to the smooth skin just beneath Jackson’s ear. An apology.
Jackson’s fingers tighten around his mug to the point that the hot ceramic
burns against his skin. He wants to lean into the touch, close his eyes and
release a sigh but he can’t,instead he uses his free hand and pushes at Derek’s
chest.
“You smell like cheap whiskey.” He comments scrunching his nose distastefully
and Derek rolls his eyes.
“I can take a hint, I’ll shower.” Derek says and Jackson nods, watches the
older man gulp down his coffee before heading for the shower.
Derek doesn’t say anything to him and Jackson’s not sure whether to stay or
not. He feels simultaneously excited and sick.  This feeling growing inside of
him is frightening and he can’t contain it, what he feels, what he feels for
Derek.The more time he spends with him the easier it is to believe in the
illusion that what they have is something more, that it isn’t just Derek paying
to have sex with him. But in reality that’s all it is and Jackson can feel
himself forgetting that, can feel himself wishing it was more.
Calling it a bad idea is a complete understatement. Jackson doesn’t even know
anything about Derek, hell he doesn’t even know his last name so to think they
could have more is perpetually laughable. Jackson can’t think of any
circumstances in which this could work, not with Jackson’s responsibility to
Taya not with what Jackson does for a living.
With a light tremble in his body Jackson places his full cup into the sink and
leaves before Derek exits the shower.
/
Jackson dropped Taya off at preschool in the morning and he’s not due to pick
her up for a couple more hours so he uses the time to clean the apartment.
He empties the fridge and frowns at some of the things he pulls out because he
honestly can’t remember when he brought half of them.  He takes a break half
way through to eat a cheese and crisp sandwich a strange concoction he’d always
favoured. He eats slowly; mouth chewing but he can’t really taste the food.
He does the bedroom last but when he picks up his pillow he gets a waft of
aroma that he reluctantly recognises as Derek’s aftershave. He grips the pillow
a bit tighter, allows himself the luxury of pulling it closer to himself and
breathing in the scent clinging to the cotton – if only for a minute.
He’s dumping his clothes into a laundry bag when he hears a knock at the door.
He shoves the bags down with a sigh before going to answer it. He doesn’t
expect the person on the other side and for a moment he freezes and he doesn’t
think dread exactly covers how he’s feeling.  
 “You look well.” Is the first thing Danny says when Jackson’s opens the door.
He considers slamming the door shut because why would Danny be here? And does
that mean that Gerard’s close behind? Danny said they couldn’t remain in
contact just in case Gerard found out and came after Jackson. Danny was never a
bad person but he was around for a bad period of Jackson’s life and seeing him
brings it all back, makes him think Gerard could be around the corner.
“What are you doing here?” Jackson asks peeking around the corner of the door
jam and down the hall.
“What are you-“ Danny starts then shakes his head, an apologetic look on his
face.
“I’m an idiot, god Jackson. I’m. I’m on my own; I came here to tell you
something.”
Jackson doesn’t relax, can’t allow himself to.
“Can I come in?” Danny tentatively asks and Jackson inches the door further
shut. Danny breaths out a sharp breath.
“Okay.” He says before he seems to puff himself up readying himself to say
something, do something. “Gerard he’s, he’s dead.”
The first thing Jackson feels is intense disbelief followed by a spark of
retribution. When he feels his chest flare up with a lock of tightness though
he finds himself confused. It feels as if someone’s crushing his chest,
squeezing his lungs and cutting off his breathing. He turns to Danny with wet
eyes.
“What?” He asks. Danny exhales and smiles, it’s a confusing smile like he’s
feeling too many things for it to completely make sense.
“He’s dead Jacks. He had brain cancer.” And Jackson doesn’t know why but he
cries. He starts to sob, breathes hiccupping. After a minute of stiff standing
Danny pushes the door open the rest of the way and hugs Jackson. Jackson
remains still for several long seconds, throat thick and breathes tense before
he raises his arms and fists them into Danny’s jacket.
“I don’t...don’t-huh-...even know why...I’m cry...crying.” Jackson admits
shakily and Danny squeezes him once before answering.
“It doesn’t matter why.”
/
Jackson can’t make the tea so Danny does. He doesn’t enquire where any of the
cups or spoons are, just quietly and unobtrusively searches for them himself.
After he sets the cups down he sits in a chair opposite Jackson at the kitchen
table.
“I know it’s a lot to take it, I’m sorry I didn’t think of a better way to tell
you.”
Jackson doesn’t know how to reply so for the moment he doesn’t, he just
snuffles heavily.
“What happened with Victoria and the others?” Jackson asks, voice muffled as
Danny runs his thumb over the rim of his mug.
“They inherited Gerard’s life insurance then they left. Chris signed over all
of Gerard’s businesses to the county. I don’t think he wanted anything to do
with the family business, he was always less inclined to it than the rest of
them.”  Jackson nods but he doesn’t really feel his head moving.
“I came here because Victoria and Chris weren’t the only ones who were due
inheritance in accordance to Gerard’s death.” Danny says and Jackson looks up,
frowns.
“What do you mean?” The teen asks.
“He left some for you too.” Danny replies, tentatively and almost a little
hopeful.
Jackson swallows then sneers. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” Jackson spits
and Danny reels back eyes wide with shock.
“No.” He replies shakily.
“Jackson this is a good thing, it’s a lot of money and I mean a lot. You could
do whatever you wanted with it, move out of this place, start looking at
courses for school. I mean, this is your chance to start over again.”
“With his money. Just...no...god no. I came here to get away from him, it
doesn’t matter if it’s a lot of money Danny it’s still his. “
“Jackson think about it, what are you going to do when you have to start paying
for Taya’s school things. This money will have you set up for life.  After what
Gerard did to you, you deserve the money; you don’t have to feel guilty about
it.” Danny reasons.
“Don’t you get it? If I take that money everything I’ve done since I left is a
waste. I’ve been away from Gerard for months, months but I’m still the same
person. I let strangers do what he did to me I can’t-.” Jackson’s breathe
hitches like he’s got taffy sticking his lungs together.
 “Maybe this is all I’m good for.” He says narrowly avoiding Danny’s eyes as
the older man turns to him.
“God Jackson no, don’t ever say that. Don’t think that.” He gently urges and
Jackson stands abruptly, sniffles heavily snorting up thick amounts of mucus
before he flails his arms.
“Why not! It’s true. I couldn’t find a job so I’ve been selling myself to
whoever’ll take me. Nothings changed.” Jackson shouts, shoulders shaking with
broken hiccupped sobs. “I’m still weak... still useless.”
He got away from Gerard but he hasn’t changed. He hasn’t improved himself.
Using his body as a tool in which to obtain things had been branded into his
psyche at such a young age. He wanted to stay with Taya and the only way he
could do that was to sleep with Gerard and now he needs money so he sleeps with
people who will pay for it. He wants to change; he needs to but not with
Gerard’s money. He has to do things for himself.
“You are none of those things.” Danny knows he’s shouting but he’s got a fire
burning in his gut, the need to tell Jackson that this portrayal he has of
himself couldn’t be more wrong.
“Jackson you are the strongest person I know. You’ve had to deal with the death
of your parents and the molestation from someone you considered your guardian
and you lived through it. You didn’t just endure it, you survived it. “
“I can’t take the money.” Jackson says with finality.
“Okay.” Danny replies almost as if he’s telling Jackson that’s it’s alright,
it’s his choice he can do what he wants.
The teas cold by the time Jackson’s sitting back down and is calm enough to
drink it.  He feels like an idiot now for losing it, for spilling all his
feelings out but he won’t apologise, he’ll just look all the more pathetic if
he does.
“I know you don’t want the money, but if you do change your mind.-.” Danny
pauses when Jackson opens his mouth in protest. “IfI said. Ifyou change your
mind just give me a call and I can push the paperwork through. “
Jackson nods.
Danny leaves soon after and Jackson feels like he’s been hit by a freight
train. Would it have been easier to of taken the money regardless of who it
came from and what that person did to him? After all it’s not about him; it’s
about Taya and what he can provide for her. At the moment he’s barely making
enough money, their scrimping. What is Jackson going to do when Taya wants to
go off to college, when she needs study books and tuition fees?
He knows he can’t stay here, not with how bad this neighbourhood is.  It feels
tainted here now that he’s had a piece of his past show up.  He feels closed
in, claustrophobic and he wants to leave. Go to a nicer town; try to find a job
so he doesn’t have to sell himself.
He walks through to the bedroom and realises that he could fit himself and
Taya’s stuff into two bags easily.  He’s got a little money saved up from the
last couple of sessions he’s had with clients, enough to get them both a bus
out of town.
He has no ties keeping him here, nothing to stop him from starting his life up
somewhere else but somehow there’s a part of him that realises he does. Derek’s
here. He has to tell him he’s leaving because surely Derek would worry if
Jackson just up and left without a word.
Jackson goes to tell Derek he’s leaving and in actuality he has no reason to.
There’s nothing forcing him to but the thought of leaving without saying
goodbye makes Jackson feel sick. It’s like there’s business between them that
needs to be settled, words exchanged that maybe neither one of them have said
before.
He knocks and each second he waits makes him feel more nervous, more unsure.
The moment he turns to rush away Derek opens the door. He doesn’t mention how
Jackson left his apartment earlier he just smiles.
“Hi.” Derek greets and Jackson swallows.
“We need to talk.” He replies with trepidation and the older man frowns.
“Come in.” He says and Jackson steps through to the apartment quickly and turns
to face Derek, blurting his words out before Derek gets a chance to say
anything.
“I’m leaving.” He says and when Derek only blinks at him wide eyed Jackson
elaborates.
“I’m leaving the city with Taya - tonight.”
Derek closes off, face contorted in despondency. “Are you ever coming back?”
Jackson doesn’t know why he feels sad, why he feels like he’s throwing
something away.  He shakes his head.
Derek nods, jaw tensing like he’s biting his tongue. Jackson doesn’t know what
to say, is unsure of what he wants Derek to say, what he wants Derek to do.
“I don’t-.“ Derek starts before he cuts himself off.
“Why did you come here? You didn’t have to tell me so why did you? Why’d you
come all the way here to tell me you’re leaving?” He gives Jackson an onslaught
of questions and the teen doesn’t even know where to start.
“I-.“ He begins then shuts his eyes, shakes his head.
“Do you want me to tell you not to go?” Derek asks.
“No.” Jackson denies but it sounds weak and faux.
“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me to. You could be half way across
the state by now.” Derek explains and Jackson grits his teeth, shoves his hands
up roughly through his hair.
“It can’t work, whatever we have, whatever this is - it can’t work.” Jackson
says the words sounding choked out of him and he prays to god that him and
Derek are on the same page, that Derek feels something other than lust for him
too otherwise Jackson’s just made a fool out of himself.
He wants Derek and not just in a sexual way anymore. He wants all of him, with
his over milky coffee, his ridiculously chunky eyebrows and the way he’ll smile
at Jackson like they’ve known each other for years.  The way he loves the sea
like drivers love a road, the way he touches Jackson, makes him feel like he’s
worth something.
“It’s worked so far.” Derek counters.
Jackson stays quiet and looks down because suddenly the concept of looking at
Derek without being able to have him feels painful.
“It can’t forever. I don’t know the first thing about you.”  The teen says.
“Is that what this is about? The fact that we don’t know anything about each
other.”  Derek quickly asks and Jackson shakes his head because that’s one
reason but that’s barely scratching the surface. There’s so much more to it,
too much more.
“Fine.” Derek says before taking a step towards Jackson. “My name is Derek
Hale, I’m twenty two years old, I grew up in California, and I’ve got two
sisters.”
“Derek.” Jackson says quietly hand reaching out to grasp onto Derek’s jacket
sleeve. “Derek, stop.”
Derek doesn’t he leans forward pressing his forehead to Jacksons. “Before I
picked you up that first time I hadn’t had sex for over nine months.”
Derek shakes his head, his forehead brushing against Jacksons, their noses
grazing.
“I hate the thought of you being with anyone else, and when I look at you-”
Derek swallows and Jackson closes his eyes shut tight, tries to ignore Derek’s
words but he can’t, every confession is like a stab to Jackson’s heart, a hit
to his already fraying resolve. 
“When I look at you I want more and I know you do too.”
Jackson can feel the burning pressure of  too much , just too much emotion, too
much feeling, but beneath it all, all he wants is to kiss Derek so he does,
fists desperate hands into the older man’s hair and drags him down, kisses him
hard.
It’s rushed and desperate, he jumps up and Derek catches him, hands beneath
Jackson’s thighs as the kid wraps his legs around his waist. Derek moves them
backwards until Jackson’s pressed up against a wall. Jackson rolls his hips up,
their kisses harsh and desperate.
When he pulls away they remain close, open mouths bumping together.
“Tell me.” Derek demands. “Tell me you want it too.”
Jackson curls his fingers around the nape of Derek’s neck, presses a long peck
to his lips before drawing back.
“I want it too.”
Derek moves back until he’s by the bed, he slowly lowers himself and Jackson
clings on tighter until his knees are pressed into the mattress on either side
of Derek’s hips.
It’s different this time, absolute, gratifying in a way that Jackson’s not used
to.  Derek’s hands slide up under his shirt, palms kneading softly at his hips.
Jackson curls the hand he has on the nape of Derek’s neck around to the front
where he rests his hand on the older man’s throat, fingers splayed. He uses
that hand to turn Derek’s head to the side and inches forward to kiss along his
neck, teeth opening and closing against the supple, sun kissed skin.
Derek moans, breathy and stunted when Jackson sucks on his neck, pulls flesh
into his mouth and lathers it with his tongue, releasing it briefly only to
bite at it until the skin turns ruddy. Derek pushes his hands up under
Jackson’s shirt, lifting the top until it’s bunched underneath the teen’s
armpits. Jackson leans back to let Derek remove his top and fling it to the
floor.  
Jackson’s nails scramble at Derek’s broad shoulders, fingers creeping into and
stretching the collar of Derek’s shirt as he rubs at his collarbone, undulates
his hips back and forth.  They pull away long enough for Derek to remove his
top but before he can push it off of the bed Jacksons scooting back and leaning
down to mouth at his chest. Derek hisses in a breath, hand fisting around his
discarded t-shirt he has pressed into the bed sheets.
Derek places a warm palm over the back of Jackson’s head, gently guides the
teens mouth to his nipple where Jackson runs the slick flat of his tongue over
the nub, lightly wetting the small dark hairs that are there.  It’s slow and
torturous, overwhelming to the point that Derek doesn’t know whether he wants
it to stop or not. Jackson mouths up his front until his mouth is back on
Derek’s. The older man eases back onto the mattress, feels Jackson slide off of
his hips and Derek opens his legs to accommodate him, pulls them together once
Jackson’s fitted snugly, his hips pressing down into Derek’s.
Jackson leans up onto his knees to undo the clasp of Derek’s jeans and the
older man raises his hips, stomach muscles flexing with the movement as he lets
the teen pull his trousers off. He throws them to the edge of the bed and they
remain there before they slide off only to make a small jingling sound when
they drop to the floor. His underwear’s removed soon after and once it is he
rolls them over, kisses at the curve of Jackson’s shoulder while holding the
teens other arm against the bed. Jackson thrusts up, breath stuttering, head
turning to the side, his open mouth pressing against the corner of Derek’s.
Derek turns his head, kisses him with feeling before going to undo his jeans.
When they’re both naked and Derek slides up over him he can see that Jackson’s
trembling a little.
“You’re shaking.” He murmurs worriedly and goes to pull away, to give Jackson a
bit of room but the teen just shuts his eyes, pulls Derek into him with a hand
clawed around his shoulder.
“I’m just – it’s.” Jackson pauses and takes a deep breath, opens his eyes
slowly though he keeps them focused on the space between Derek’s collarbone and
pectoral.  
“This is the first time it’s going to mean something.” He admits cautiously and
when Derek doesn’t reply he slowly ventures a look at the older man. What he
sees almost takes his breath away, Derek’s face is open, slightly vulnerable
but he looks awed, as if he’s grateful for this.
Derek wants to say something, something ridiculous about how it will mean
something every time they do this but he’s never been one for words so instead
he kisses Jackson, open mouthed, slow and messy, thumbs rubbing back and forth
over Jackson’s cheekbones.
It’s easy there’s no other way to describe it. They aren’t on a timer, there’s
no thoughts about other people it’s just them, bare and sweaty spread out over
Derek’s white sheets.
Derek ends up on his side with Jackson spooned up behind him as the teen
reaches around with a lube slick hand and starts guiding it up and down his
shaft.  Derek presses the side of his face into the pillow and gasps into it,
bites at the cotton fabric when Jackson glides his fingers down to rub over his
balls. On instinct Derek lifts one leg, raises it at the knee. He feels Jackson
shift behind him, before his hand draws back and this time his lube slick
fingers travel down the back of Derek until their grazing over his cleft and
into the space where Derek’s hot inside.
Jackson’s thorough and the thrust of his fingers inside Derek is mind-blowing,
has Derek releasing these punched out moans as he rolls his hips down into the
mattress, cock a stark red against the white sheets.  Jackson makes little
dipping movements with his fingers, squelching sounds of lube loud in the air
as the teen bows his head to bite and licks at Derek’s ear and hairline.
Derek’s ready to come, has been since Jackson put the first finger in, but now
he’s on three and Derek’s aching with the need for an orgasm. He reaches behind
him, wrist bent at an awkward angle as he taps at Jackson’s hand. Getting the
hint Jackson removes his fingers slowly and Derek shudders at the feel of
lubricant sliding out with it, all lucid and warm.
The rubbery texture of the condom always feels strange as it’s sliding between
his cheeks but once Jackson’s breeched him Derek doesn’t care.
Jackson pulls out slightly, gives a small rotating movement of his hips when he
presses back in and god it’s fucking amazing. It feels like liquid gold
spreading through his veins, shooting down his back and into his toes which are
curling against the bed sheets, screwing them up and making creases in the
fabric.
Jackson curls his arm around the inside of one of Derek’s legs and pulls it up,
opening Derek up further for him and it makes him slide deeper and fuck,
fuckhis fucking prostate. Derek jerks, shuts his eyes and concentrates on the
long, sure way that Jackson’s fucking him. Concentrates on the way Jackson’s
smothering moans into the back of Derek’s neck.  
Derek shifts slightly, rolls and Jackson goes with the motion, let’s go of his
leg until Derek’s forehead is pressed into the bedding, his knees up under him
and his ass raised. He’s low enough to the bed that his cock drags up against
it every time he pushes backwards and he lets the friction of it get him off
until the sheets aren’t just wet with lube but his come too.
Jackson takes a hold of his waist and snaps his hips forward, jostling Derek
until the older man’s breath is hitching on every shove inward and Derek loves
it, growls out little words of encouragement until Jackson moans above him
thrusting one more time then stilling as he comes.
Cleaning up after is half assed. Derek kicks the top sheet off and then they
both lay on their sides knees touching.
Jackson closes his eyes, resting them for a moment because it’s been a long day
and he’s exhausted right down to his bones, his muscles are aching just right
and his head feels heavy. He knows he’ll have to leave soon to get Taya from
preschool but he can’t bring himself to move just yet. He’s too stuck on
thinking about what himself and Derek just did. They’ve had sex before multiple
times but now they’ve laid themselves bare, they know what the other wants but
what if it doesn’t work out. Derek knows entirely too much about him. It’s
dangerous. If they decide that one day they don’t feel the same way for each
other what will happen. How is Jackson going to work now? He can’t maintain a
relationship with Derek and still sleep with strangers.
“This is crazy.” Jackson breaths out, eyes peeling open when he feels Derek’s
hand run over the curve of his shoulder.
“I know.” Derek agrees, nice and easy but he doesn’t elaborate so Jackson
sighs.
“You know this isn’t normal right? This isn’t what people do. People don’t pay
other people for sex then ask them out. It’s not normal.”
“Were not normal.” Derek replies and Jackson groans through clenched teeth.
“No but you are irritating.” The teen comments and Derek shrugs.
“It’s a talent.”
There’s too many things that could go wrong and Jackson’s worried because this
isn’t just about him, it’s about Taya too. He feels scared because there’s a
part of him that still thinks he doesn’t deserve anything good, doesn’t deserve
to feel anything beyond disappointment and self loathing. He’s not entirely
sure if it’s the aftermath of what he’s been through or if it’s just etched
into his DNA, either way Jackson can’t help but to think this way.
Derek closes his eyes and stretches, rubs the side of his face into his pillow.
“If one day this isn’t what you want anymore, I won’t stop you. I’ll let you
leave.”  Derek’s keeping his voice carefully neutral and his eyes are shut so
Jackson can’t read anything on him, can’t tell how he might be feeling. He can
tell Derek’s genuine though and he doesn’t deserve that, doesn’t deserve the
trust and faith Derek’s placing in him. He wants to tell Derek that he doesn’t
have anything to worry about, that he’ll stay forever but he doesn’t know if he
will, can’t possibly tell how he’ll feel in a few months time, a few years
time.
Jackson leans forward and kisses Derek’s mouth lightly, keeps his lips pressed
there until Derek reciprocates. “Thanks.” Jackson mumbles against his lips and
Derek nods.  Their quiet for a few minutes, Jackson thumbing through the sweat
cooled strands of Derek’s hair. “So what now?” The teen asks and Derek opens
his eyes, grins. “I hear Aruba’s great this time of year.”
/
Chapter End Notes
     Such a sappy ending. Haha.
     Hi everyone can I just give a massive thank you to all of you who
     supported me throughout this fic and gave me the most amazing
     feedback. I hope you all like the ending, this is the last chapter.
     I’ve enjoyed writing this fic sooo much but I don’t think I’ll
     elaborate on it anytime soon, I’m hoping to start working on some
     more Halemore stuff. But just thank you again all your reviews/
     kudos’s they made me soooo happy !
     Much love
     Dolorous Doll
     X
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