Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/611741.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Richard_Brook/Jim_Moriarty, Jim_Moriarty/Original_Male_Character
  Character:
      Head_Master, Jim_Moriarty, Jim_Moriarty's_Father, Richard_Brook, Original
      Characters
  Additional Tags:
      childhood_fic, Spankings, Prostitution, Child_Abuse, Broken_Bones
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-12-27 Words: 1152
****** Sticks and Stones ******
by BendyDick
Summary
     Jim is on his knees in a small bathroom sucking off a sailor that
     just got off a commercial ship. He never talks to them more than just
     stating his price, they never seem to mind.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Jim is on his knees in a small bathroom sucking off a sailor that just got off
a commercial ship. He never talks to them more than just stating his price,
they never seem to mind.
It started when Carl destroyed Richard’s only uniform. Jim let him wear his and
took the lashes from their head master until they were able to find money to
buy a new one. Carl didn’t stop though and destroyed the new uniform leaving
Jim splayed out over the headmaster’s desk, pants around his ankles and tears
in his eyes for almost a month. Money had been hard to come by and their dad
stopped leaving his wallet un attended after Richard stole a dollar to buy a
package of slim jims at the local market. Jim didn’t know what to do because
the whippings were getting harder and the head master was getting fed up with
his insolence.
He could have just told him that Carl tore up his, that he legitimately didn’t
have one. The headmaster would have stopped, figured out that his dad was
abusive and saved both boys. That wasn’t what Jim wanted; he didn’t want to be
“saved” because that would mean Richard would be taken from him. His Richard.
He couldn’t let that happen.
So he took the lashes, counted them out in a sarcastic tone trying his best to
pretend they didn’t hurt him. Then he’d stand up; pull his faded and torn blue
jeans over his welted bottom and leave to take his classes.
One night when the twins could only find fifty cents to go and buy food which
was only enough to buy a small bar of chocolate, he told Richard not to stay up
for him. He tucked his little brother into their closet all wrapped up in their
laundry so their dad couldn’t find him and left. Down to the docks he walked, a
smile on his face and a swing in his hips. Not because he was happy, because he
wanted people to look. He was wore the tightest shirt he could find in their
closet, white from almost two years ago and his faded jeans that their
headmaster deplored.
“Hey there,” He cooed at a stressed looking man with whiting gray hair and a
cigar hanging from his lips. “Twenty for a blow.” He had laughed and sent the
child on his way telling him to go home and play with his toys. Jim wasn’t so
lucky the next time.
He didn’t want a blow, he wanted the full thing but he had cash so Jim bent
over the toilet in a cramped bath room and bit down on his white tee shirt so
he wouldn’t scream when the pain took him. That had been the sailor’s idea, and
a damned good one cause Jim did scream, he screamed a lot but he didn’t cry.
On the way home he bought candy and food, drinks and toys, he brought them home
to his Richard and smiled when the boy looked at him confused. “How?” He asked,
grabbing one of the lollipops and popping it into his mouth. “Where’d it all
come from?”
“Don’t worry about it. There will be more tomorrow.” Richard asked him over and
over again where he got it to the point Jim had to slap him to make him stop.
He didn’t want to admit what he was doing. He didn’t want to tell his brother
that he was a no good, dock whore with a filthy mouth and a stretched out hole.
He bought a uniform the next night and the headmaster told him thank-you
offering him one of the mints from his desk which Jim accepted only to give to
Richard as an apology for hitting him. The food he bought was piled up under
their bed and the extra cash hidden in the pockets of his hung up trousers. He
went out every night leaving Richard alone in the closet. Each night there was
a new batch with plenty of men edger to shove their pricks into a live human
after so long at sea. Jim stopped screaming so loud when they took him but blow
jobs were still his favorite.
When the man in front of him came with a groan Jim licked up everything that
was spilt, it was easier that way and they liked it more. He was given his
money and left there to pick himself up. That was the worst part, staring at
the gray bathroom tiles and the graffiti on the walls knowing that he belonged
there on his knees, that he had no other talents that could feed him or his
brother.
He rushed home picking up a bottle of cola and a new note book for Richard’s
writing. He scaled to tree outside his window and popped into their room with
skilled ease. “Richie?” He hissed taking a cautious step towards the thrown
open closet. Richard knew he wasn’t supposed to leave the door open. “Ricahrd!”
Jim tried again pointlessly because there was no one in the room with him. He
threw the shopping bag onto their bed and ran out his bed room door to the
landing. “Richard!”
“Jim…” He heard below him. Muffled and weak as if he was trying to stay awake.
“I hurt.” Jim wasted no time in running down the steps to his brother’s side.
Their father was passed out beside him, a bottle of Jack Daniels gripped in his
hand. There was blood everywhere and Richard was holding his arm at an awkward
angle with something white wrapped around it, no, Richard’s arm was sticking
out at an awkward angle and something white was protruding from it. “It hurts.”
Jim didn’t know what to say or what to do, his finger’s traced over Richard’s
lips telling him to be quiet, telling him it would be okay. He bent over and
heaved his twin up into his arm’s, trying his best not to shake him or hurt him
more. Richard was so brave not to cry, Richard was so brave not to be screaming
the way Jim wanted to be. “I’ll take you to the hospital, they’ll fix it. You
fell from the tree.”
“Jim?” Richard asked as though he couldn’t see what was going on. It sent a
chill down to Jim’s stomach. “Is that you?”
“It’s going to be alright Richard. It’ll be fine.”
“What happened?”
“I- I don’t know… it’s going to be okay.” Jim said, more to himself than
anything. He continued to the door pausing only a moment trying to figure out
how to open it. The streets were cold and Richard wasn’t wearing anything warm,
only flannel night pants and a gray shirt. “They are going to fix you.”
“Don’t leave me again. Promise.”
Jim looked down to his brother’s tear streaked face and nodded. “I promise.”
End Notes
     Written for giantsandmonsters who wanted: "someone write me a fic
     where jim whores himself out to take care of richie please and thank"
     and I couldn't help but make it super dark. :D
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