A/N: What happens when eighteen year old Jack Rydon gets seduced by a pair of cross-dressing male twins? This of course . . .

(A roleplay between myself and Emz. Bunny and Andy are Emma's creations and therefore copyright to her.)

ENJOY! 3

"Are you done yet?"

"I've only just got the label's off."

"How long are you going to take?"

"As long as I need okay?"

Thank god for back alleys. This specific one was a dead end, just around the corner of one of River Dale's biggest 'attractions' it could be called; Abstractions. People just flocked towards it at night, like moths to a flame. But the voices could be heard from coming within the alley, drowned out on the streets by the constant rumbling of traffic and youths that had already been at the drink.

"Do they fit?"

"Perfectly."

"Can I take a look?"

"Since when do you ask?"

Chocolate brown eyes looked down at the figure who was just straightening up as the male turned, any body who walked down their know would probably have had to take a double take, for it looked like the boy was looking in a mirror. A pair of black trousers and a 'Rainbow Records' work shirt was in a small pile on the floor, along with a pair of black trainers.

"Looks good."

"I know it does."

There was practically nothing different that separated the two males, apart from the fact that the one standing by the pile of clothes had streaks in his black hair of a reddy pink sort of colour. Although the hair, despite being not of your everyday style, wasn't what would have drawn attention to the two 17 year olds, for the outfit of which they wore, was certainly a head turner.

Footwear was something along the lines of boots. But not normal boots. These had obtained names such as 'Bitch boots' or 'Slag boots' and it wasn't a surprise considering the chunky heel and platform that boosted the twins slightly below average height of 5'6 to a more impressive 5'9. The black leather that the boots were made of was zipped up to knee level, where tight knit fishnet stockings then covered the pale skinned legs. Just as the lace of the suspenders could be seen holding the fish nets in place could be seen, they were hidden by what was called a skirt, although there was hardly enough material to be able to call them that. The black leather, to be blunt, barely covered either of the boy's backsides, revealing a portion of the suspender belt, for you see when the boy's went out, they pulled out all the stops.

But there was a difference between them. The red streaked haired male had a distinct snippet of lace that could be seen beneath the skirt if a leg was moved too much, a sign of underwear, meanwhile the waiting of the two boys had two strings emerging from the top of the skirt, hooking over his hips, strings that contributed to a barely there pair of underwear.

To say the rise of the skirts was low wouldn't be enough. The leather was temptingly low on each of the males' hips, luring the gaze of wandering eyes to a very barely covered manhood. This also meant that a large stretch of pale skin was on show considering the white cotton cropped tops that they were rather short. That's all the tops were, white form fitting cropped tops, sleeveless with a v-neck. Simplistic, but when joined with the rest of the outfit, very effective.

In the way of accessories, there were only two objects on each of them. Covering hands were fingerless fishnet gloves made with the same knit fabric as the stockings. Wrapped around necks were black leather collars, with a nametag with the words 'Property of…' followed be a name attached by a small silver ring.

"Does my makeup look okay?"

"It looks sexy, I am guessing you did it at work."

The one who spoke first nodded, the tag on his neck saying Andy. His brother's said Bunny. These however weren't their names, no; they had the other's name on the tag, although funnily enough, they didn't have just Bunny and Andy on their birth certificates. If you were going to be formal, they were Branden and Andrew Giles, Branden coming first due to the fact that he was 2 hours older than his twin.

But, with nothing more said, and happy with their outfits, they wandered out of the alley and round the corner to the well lit up building of Abstraction stood, winding their way to the front of the cue. Yes, they had left Andy's work uniform in the alley, and if they weren't too shit-faced to forget about it by the end of the night, and some random homeless person hadn't become the proud owner of a Rainbow Records top, he would take it home.

"Guys, you know your not old enough."

"Come on Billy, you've let us in before."

"Yeah, and the last time I almost got busted for it."

"See, almost, not quite though."

It was then that, after sharing a look with each other, the younger of the two stepped forward, Branden standing behind him so that the people behind couldn't see what he was doing. As he then began to speak to the bouncer once again, one of Andy's hands skimmed over the front of his trousers, toying with the belt buckle of the man refusing their entry.

"We're not going to cause any trouble, and nobody has to know. If you let us in, then we will owe you, we'll you a lot."

With those words his hand threatened to slip down between the bouncers trousers and his skin, when the large hand stopped the seventeen year old by the wrist.

"You two are disgusting you know that right?"

"Is that a yes we can go in?"

"Fine, yes, just go."

So, with a mischievous smile and a rather disturbing glint in their black and pink eye shadow decorated eyes, they sauntered into the large building hand in hand, looking a lot less out of place amongst the bustling crowds of people than they did out on the streets.

"Second floor?"

"Of course, and we need to go to the bathroom, I have a present for you."

With that, Branden lead the way for the two identically dressed brothers, eager to get his present, the heels of the boots clomping as they went up a large set of stairs, steering through the crowds until they approached a door leading to the men's bathroom which they fervently entered. As they did, Andrew took a seat on the side between two sinks, his back to the large mirrors as he pulled a small sealed see through plastic bag containing an ominous white powder out of a pocket, holding it out to his brother. It wasn't however going to be that easy, because as the recipient of the gift went to take it, a bright look in his eyes, it was held from his reach.

"You know what you have to give me."

"But it's a present."

"Present or not, I am a man of business my dear Bunny."

So, without even thinking about anyone else who may be in the toilets, or who may walk in, he leant a hand either side of his brothers hips on the side counter, pressing his lips against his sibling's, forcing his mouth open with his own tongue, letting it glide into Andy's mouth as if this was something that you did everyday. Well, apparently it wasn't to most people, but perhaps the bouncers view of them being disgusting had been for certain reasons. Either way, Bunny wasn't going to start caring know about what people may have thought, especially considering he just wanted the small bag with the love of his live in it; cocaine.

"I'm coming out of my cage

And I've been doing just fine

Gotta gotta be down

Because I want it all

It started out with a kiss

How did it end up like this

It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss"

"Sorry, wha' did'ya say?!"

"Two bottles of Carlsburg, please."

"Huh? Sorry I can't hear ya, ya'll 'ave to shout up!"

"Two bottles of Carlsburg, mate!"

"Two?!"

"Yeah, that's right!"

The music in Abstraction was as loud as ever, the eight giant speakers on the second floor thundering out The Killers "Mr Brightside" in a way that made the whole place vibrate with its power, causing the boy behind the bar a great lot of difficulty in hearing what the customer's were actually asking for.

Finally, he was able to shuffle around to the fridge and bring out two bottles of Carlsburg lager, lifting the lids with a bottle opener and

popping two bright pink straws down the necks of them in one swift movement. He wandered back to where the boy was standing, placing the glassy green bottles on the bar as he neared. "That'll be two dollars!" he shouted, voice slightly husky above the thundering of the music.

The other male squinted, "I beg your pardon?!"

The bartender sighed and then repeated, a little more loudly, "Two dollars!"

If there was one thing that Jack Rydon hated about having to work in a nightclub, it was the matter of having to shout to be heard. At the end of the night he would tumble in through the door of his apartment, his throat as sore as hell, barely able to croak a word. But that's not to say that the job didn't have any good sides. He constantly got to see extremely sexy men grinding against one another to the rythems of the music, and was always content that when he went into the toilets he would find a few there that were willing to buy either his coke or his company, so overall it wasn't such a bad place to work. It beat having to walk the streets into fits, eventhough he still did that on a Friday night, as one weekend job wasn't exactly enough to pay for what he would need throughout the following week.

"Now they're going to bed

And my stomach is sick

And it's all in my head

But she's touching his—chest

Now, he takes off her dress

Now, let me go"

Jack Rydon was your average eighteen year old guy to look at. Ruffled black hair fell into his eyes, a rather prominent stripe of electric blue running down the centre of it in an awkward sort of mohawk. Dark blue eyes blinked out from beneath that hair, both oddly reflective and shiny in the flashing neon lights of the club, looking more like mirrors than actual eyes. His skin was pale, free from blemishes in every way. No freckles for this boy. Just smooth milky white skin that proceeded to give him quite a vampire-like appearance. A nicely chisled jaw-line and thin pink lips added to the handsome male's features. But please, don't go thinking that Master Rydon was all fiendishly handsome and totally free from imperfections. Oh, no. It was his nose that spoiled his face. A little too large in size and a little too pointed at the end. But did that really matter when everything else was just so beautiful? No, I guessed not.

The male's attire this evening was a little random. An outfit that he probably wouldn't wear if he had the choice, but was forced to due to the fact that none of his other clothes seemed to be clean. A pair of multi-buckled New Rock's were placed upon the male's feet, these being the usual choice of footwear, leather and shiny, rising up his shins, seductive to those men that adored the whole punk image. The trousers that almost concealed them, however were not traditional for the boy, much as he loved them he hardly ever wore them due to the fact that the tassles caught on random door handles and he had once ripped a huge hole in the ass when he had accidently closed the door of the taxi on one - they were, of course, bondage pants. But not just any old bondage pants, they were black and yellow plaid. Jack, himself, prefered his black and red ones, but he had worn the red the night before and they now looked a little stained and in need of a good wash. So yellow it was.

A black, three row, studded belt was swung about his hips, in his trademark "lazy" style, up at one end and hanging low at the other, while a good two inches of his bright white boxer shorts were visable over the waistband whenever he bent over. And believe me, he had done plenty of that! A black Boomtown Rats t-shirt fitted snug about his ever so slightly toned torso, several anarchy badges pinned stylishly on the left breast, one in particular brandishing the phrase "Will Buy Drinks For Sex" in huge hot pink letters. A large leather dog collar was fixed about the male's neck, the silvery spikes growing out from it almost large enough to poke some innocent person's eye out of they got too close. And it was this that he now fiddled idly with as he slipped out from behind the bar, heading through the bustling drunken crowd in the vague direction of the toilets. He needed a fix, and badly.

"Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies

Choking on your alibis

But it's just the price I pay

Destiny is calling me

Open up my eager eyes

'Cause I'm Mr Brightside"

One pale hand was pressed firmly against the wooden door of the male's toilets, pushing it open in a hurry, as a mop of blue and black followed it through, other hand fumbling through the hundreds of pockets in his trousers. Fuck. Where did he put that stuff? Heavy boot clad feet shuffled slowly over the tiled flooring, footsteps drowned out by the thumping music that was changing into an Evanescence number, as the boy searched for his beloved possesion. Automatically his feet monouvered Jack to a mirror and it wasn't until his ashen fingers finally found the clear plastic bag and drew it out in swift smugness, that he noticed the two boys beside him.

A boy in a skirt, if that's what it could be called, was kissing his reflection. At first he thought that he was going a little insane and maybe he'd had enough cocaine for one night, but then his royal blue eyes flickered over the differences in the fellow's hair and he realised, with stiff relief, that there were actually two boys there. Two who looked quite frighteningly alike, let me add.

Shaking his head in dumbfounded surprise, he turned back to his fix, adding the antics of the twins to his list of good things about working in Abstraction, as he did so.

Removing his tongue from his brother's mouth and pulling back so he was looking at him, Branden extended a hand, an eyebrow raised as his chocolate brown eyes looked at Andy.

"Can I have it now?"

"Most certainly, pleasure doing business with you."

A smile played across his lips as the small bag was placed in his bag, which he opened carefully, patting the leg of his brother.

"Well you're going to have to move you know."

The black haired male slid off the side counter, the space was soon occupied however by the older of the pair who busied himself with extracting a credit card from a pocket (how the makers of the skirt had managed to get pockets on their was beyond me) and began making just two fairly generous lines of the white powder, concentration on his face as he did so. Meanwhile though, the now unoccupied boy noticed Jack, his eyes wandering down over his body, taking in his appearance, his clothes, his hair, everything that could perhaps be off use to him. Now, neither of the twins was known for being discreet, so Andrew was quite happy to stand and, not quite stare, at Jack, a look of concentration on his face as he did so.

"Bunny."

"Yeah?"

"We have company."

"Is it sexy company?"

With that, the large heel of the boot came colliding with the foot of the otherwise occupied boy, causing a yelp of pain to escape his lips and also making him drop the credit card right in the middle of one of the lines. He wheeled around to face his brother, a mixture of pain and annoyance in his eyes.

"Oh you look good with that look on your face."

"What did you want?"

After a nod in the direction of the eighteen year old, Branden had that same, somewhat inconspicuous look on his face as his brother had had when he looked at the male before them. It was then that the identicalness of them was most evident; when you had seen them with the exact same look on their face. Their eyes were the same shape, the jaw-line was identical, and they each had a somewhat pouty expression naturally.

"Hey there."

"What, you can't just leave that like that."

"Leave what like that."

"The lines, you fucked it up."

"You stood on my foot."

The pair now glared at each other for a while, until Branden pulled away and looked back to Jack, trying again, noting how his brother ignored the little tiff, standing by the other's side. Bunny had known his brothers game, get him to sort out the mess he had made, so he would have it all laid out for him, but no, it wouldn't work that easily. But no, the next time, they spoke in unison, in one of those freaky twilight zone kind of moments.

"Hey there."

Jack blinked twice at one of the twins mention of "company" and then the other's "Is it sexy company?" He grinned to himself, small lips curling up slightly at the edges. Well, from the huge amount of business he was recently recieving he'd quite proudly and honestly say that he was sexy. /Ultimately/ sexy if you wanted to get all techinical about the matter. But nevermind that, he had more pressing matters to deal with.

Nimble fingers, with short bitten nails, prised open the bag, tipping it slightly to one side so that a rather nice amount of white powder fell out onto the counter in a neat pile. Now for the relevant object to manipulate the powder into two lovely little lines. He drove a hand into the nearest pocket and scowled when all he found was the remainder of the money from his work the night before, dark eyes narrowing furiously. Where the fuck did he put it? Another hand went into yet another pocket, the fingertips of that one closing around, not a card, but another plastic bag. He didn't, however, take that one out of his pocket, oh no, doing that would be oh so foolish. There was almost two hundred dollars worth of heroin in that little dear. Two hundred dollars worth of herion that he was hoping to sell off to some random junkie.

More fingers went into more pockets as he heard the startlingly scarey unison speech of "Hey there." Something that he instantly linked with Fred and George the red haired Weasly twins, now /there/ were two fictional teenage boys that he wouldn't say "no" to . . .

Troubled eyes looked upwards at the twins as he fumbled for more pockets, cursing under his breath. Why the hell had he worn those pants? Why couldn't he have just been normal and actually taken the trouble to wash a pair for once? Where was Mewton when you needed him? Mewton could pratically sniff out anything drug related and he would have been able to find Jack's fake ID in an instant.

"Err. Hey." was the boy's halted reply. His attention far more focused on the fact that without his card he was literally going to have to use his fingers. Awkward measures. The powder always got stuck to your skin and you usually ended up with far less than you poured out. Frowning viciously, he shot a voilent glare in the direction of the cocaine. "Uggh! I can't believe this!" He cried, boyish voice echoing loudly about the toilets. And it was then, with a kind of strange awe, that he noticed the card laying abandoned in the powder beside him.

Glittering eyes were now turned up to meet the gaze of the twins, a strange smirk of happiness wandering over his pointed features. "Is that yours?" he asked, voice oh so much calmer now as he pointed with one, slender but shaking hand towards the credit card.

If it was theirs then he would ask if he could borrow it. If it wasn't he would take it, use it to sort out his fix, and then attempt to sell it on to some oblivious, drunken passerby for a nice price. And, if it was theirs, and they told them that he couldn't borrow it, well, let's just say that he had his little /way/ of dealing with that particular problem.

The pair of them observed the male with amusement in their eyes as he searched so desperately for something, and by the way he was going about it, and by his glaring at the cocaine, it was obvious as to what he had lost, or what he needed. Chocolate brown eyes followed the direction of which the finger was pointing rather shakily, when Branden started this little set of dialogue.

"Well if you have morals."

"And you want to get technical."

"Then no."

"It belongs to a middle aged man who he sucked off in the toilets."

"You didn't have to mention that bit."

"Yes I did, don't lie."

A sigh passed lips as the slender fingers of the red haired streaked male reached and picked up the credit card, holding it between his index and middle finger, a somewhat mischievous smirk on his face.

"But if you don't have morals."

"And you don't really care."

"Then it's ours."

Andrew plucked the card from his brother's finger, looking at it curiously, raising it to his lips where he licked off some of the white powder that had clung to the plastic on it's siege of the once perfectly sculpted lines. After lowering the card, he eyed it slightly longer before glancing at Jack, he didn't even need to hear what he was going to say next to know what it would be.

"You would like to borrow it, wouldn't you?"

"We know how much you want it."

"And we also know how much you need it."

"So what will we get if we let you use it?"

They had worked out how to survive in this world considering there was no one else to help them. They would be willing to help, that way they wouldn't make to many enemies, but they also couldn't just give things away, where was the profit? So really, they were quite good businessmen when it came to live, not giving more than they got and that fandango.

After speaking though, they moved from their positioning, their heeled footsteps echoing in the tiled room with each step they took until they stopped, one either side of the older male. Leaning casually on his shoulders as they looked at each other from in front of him.

"Should we?"

"Shouldn't we?"

"You decide."

"But I am no good at making decisions."

Raising an eyebrow at each other, the same somewhat devilish look lighting up their chocolate brown eyes that standing out against their pale skin, they looked at Jack, waiting to hear what he had to say on the situation at hand.

Jack watched the two brothers' shennanigans with an interested gaze. It was clear that the two knew exactly what they were doing, something that dearest Jack Rydon had not counted on. When you were playing the game with random men on the street it was always relatively easy to get your own way, as those guys were incredibly vunerable. Not even half of them knew of the "giving and recieving" goings on that were usually pinned with the gay men, and that made it all the much easier for Jack to play to his advantages. Most gave him what he wanted for a small price, a three minute session in a dark alley, or toilet cubicle, and fifty percent of the time he didn't even have to use his mouth. But, when you were playing that very same game with boys who were in the same league as yourself, things got relatively harder - quite literally.

But, holy shit, he needed his fix. The shaking was creeping up his arms now, light temors at regular intervals. He was coming down from his last shot of herion back at the apartment, and if he didn't sedate himself with some hard cocaine, soon, then he would have to endure the sickness, the dizziness, the uncontrollable shaking, the vomiting, the headaches, all totally clear headed. And the thought of that made the boy's stomach clench. Coming down on a clear head was worse than having your arm bitten off by a starving shark. Not that Jack had ever had his arm bitten off by a starving shark, but he kinda guessed how much it would hurt.

Now both of the boys were around and about him, one on either side, leaning on his shoulders asthough he was some sort of well . . . leaning post. The older boy smirked at the younger two's speech patterns, once again reminding himself of the red haired boys that he adored so much. Twins had always been a fantasy, a craving, something that needed satisfying and he looked from one boy to the other, taking in their drastically identical features with hungry eyes.

Oh ho. This seemed fun.

"Actually boys," he began, an slightly trembling arm coming up to slink around each of the twins' waists in one slow diliberate movement, in which he was sure to caress the smooth bare skin existing between the space in the crop-tops and the skirts, with fine digits. "I 'ave a little proposition of my own." He paused, in order to lick his lips, damp red tongue tracing the skin, leaving a wet glisten upon them that looked quite effectively like some sort of lip gloss. He then turned to eye each boy, deep blue irises shimmering like pools of water. "But then I guess it depends on ya line of business."

Hands slid upwards, soft fingertips brushing the skin beneath the boy's tops in light touches. "But from the looks of the two of ya, ya seem the sort to 'elp a fellow worker in need, so . . ." Jack's hands removed themselves from beneath the white cotton, their owner now stepping out from between the twins with all the air of a true dealer. It was then that Jack turned to them, the large bag of herion, that had originally been in his pocket, held up now by a thumb and a fore-finger, a thumb and a fore-finger that shook a little that is.

Eyes never leaving the boys before him, he waited in silence, asthough to clarify that the three of them, were, indeed, alone, as the manager finding out that one of his barstaff was selling illegal drugs in the toilets, was not something that he particularly looked forward to happening. Then, when he was sure that all was clear, he went on, voice oddly formal now. A trait that seemed strangely awkward on the punk-like teen. "Ahem. This stuff is usually ten dollars for three grams. Because I'm in a good mood and because I think that you're decent guys, I'll give you six grams in trade of a use of your credit card. If, however, that isn't your cup of tea. . ."

He paused again, an expression of casual arrogance on his features. He listened again, making double sure that they were alone and there weren't any men hanging around in any of the cubicles, and then went on, "I'm a good man. I charge twenty-five bucks for a fifteen minute session. I, however, am unable to wait fifteen minutes for my fix and so I'll offer you ten. Free of charge of course. As long I get possession of that little plastic friend of yours afterwards so that I can sort myself out." A playful grin spread over his lips and he finally added, "What d'ya say?"

A smile played across each of the twins faces as the arms, despite it's shaking, slinked around each of theirs waist. That had to be a new record for the pair of them, they had hardly even been there 5 minutes and there was a prospect facing them such as the one in front of them. But hey, when you were seventeen-year-old twins up for practically anything, and also when you were, and it had to be said, highly attractive, it wasn't exactly something new to have a complete stranger in between you, even if that person was a drug-dealing whore.

Listening intently to Jack's proposition, they filled the gap that had been left by the one know facing them, an arm wrapping around each other's waist as they stood close, sharing a look with each other as he spoke, as if they were trying to work out what to do just by a series of raised eyebrows and devilish smirks while Andy toyed with the plastic card between his fingers absent mindedly, speaking first once Jack had finished, still looking at his brother.

"I bet you like the first one better don't you?"

"I don't actually."

"You don't?"

"No, so are we going for the second one?"

"The second one it is."

Sharing a nod and a light brushing of lips together, the twins removed their arms from each other's waist, wandering towards Jack but standing differently to how they had done before. Branden positioned himself behind the older male, plucking the bag that the other held delicately and slipping it into one of the numerous pockets in the boys trousers while his sibling stood in front of him, holding the plastic card in front of Jack's face as he spoke.

"We'll let you keep that."

"So you can get the right money for it."

"And we'll go with the second option, and…"

"…Because we trust you…"

"…We'll let you use this first."

"Because let's be honest here."

"A man with the shakes just isn't much fun."

"Despite how attractive he is."

Andrew took a step back then, holding out the credit card to the male before him with that same sparkle in his dark eyes, the smirk on each of the twins faces was identical as they observed Jack from their different angles. Some would have been very wary about the order in which they were doing things, but they had already made their reason as to why they did it. And anyway, escaping the pair of them if they didn't get their end of the deal, wouldn't exactly be the easiest things to do.

Jack watched the two brother's brush lips with an interested gaze. Oh yes, it certainly seemed that the boy's luck was holding up today. Much unlike his recent night of business, in which things hadn't gone so well. And what was that? They were going to take the second option, as in one of famous Jack Rydon's ten minute sessions? And they were going to let him use the card first? Well, you never look a gift horse in the mouth, as they always say.

He grinned slowly as they approached him, one slipping the herion back into his pocket, the other dangling the card in a rather tempting manner that made the boy want to snatch it from his grasp in a quick movement. But no, Jack Rydon must keep a hold of himself, there was no room for fucking stuff up when there were two of them and only one of him. He must keep his cool, /had/ to keep his cool, his life practically depended on it.

"Ya made the right choice, boys." Jack finally said, nodding at one then the other, "Jack Rydon's a trustworthy guy." He reached out, thin fingertips closing around the credit card in Andrew's hand as he spoke, "An' unlike a lot of people, ya seem to 'ave a least /some/ consideration for a man's needs." Removing the card from the boy's grip, Jack was sure to add, "Thanks."

All right so maybe the boys were a little on the slutty side, and all right maybe they did look awfully like girls and not to mention wore more make-up than the girl protitutes that shared his corner - all being the sort of things that Jack usually detested, but they /were/ twins and they /were/ oddly beautiful in the dim light of the toilets. And that /was/ one of his most major fantasies. . .

Turning away from the boys now, so that he could finally sort himself out with a fix that was highly needed, he placed one hand on the counter, in order to steady his trembling body, and monouvered the chalky dust into two, rather long and rather thin, lines using the card. "So, wha' do you guys do, then?" he asked quite randomly, one hand fishing about his pockets for the straw that he slipped from the bar. Jack wasn't much of a conversation person, but he believed that when it came to playing the game properly you had to make a little bit of small talk, at least. Afterall, silence wasn't the prettiest of things.

He found the straw, fishing it out of his pocket and then leaning down over the powder, his t-shirt rising up as he did so, revealing a good few inches of those brilliantly white boxers. Pink tube poised inside his right nostril, (yes Abstraction had quite a thing for stocking pink straws) he grinned, almost sedatedly, as he pressed a forefinger to the other nostril, snorting both lines within a matter of seconds.

Ahh, the sweet relief of charlie. Instantly he felt his shaking ease and the odd sickening feeling in his stomach begin to subside. He was probably going to have to take another few lines before he went back to his work, but for now, things were as perfect as they could have ever been. "Right then." He grinned, dark eyes shimmering slightly now with a distant glaze, "Shall we get down to business?"

If Jack thought they were somewhat slutty, just from the way they were dressed and acted, well, he would have had a great shock as they answered his question, observing him with chocolate eyes as he got his fix.

"I am guessing your Jack Rydon then."

"I am Bunny."

"Or Branden."

"And he's Andy."

"Or Andrew."

"I work at Rainbow Records."

"When he can be bothered."

"And at the Fruit Cupboard."

"We both work there."

The Fruit cupboard had a bit of a reputation among River Dale, but then again, wouldn't any male brothel? But it had to be said, the money was good, it made sure they always kept themselves in top shape, and there were practically always tips given to a certain pair of dancers. Names weren't given though; it was then that they were Bunny and Anna, because, to be honest, it wasn't the safest thing to go giving out names to random strangers when they where watching you dance around like, to be honest, a whore.

As Andrew watched the boy snorting the cocaine, he couldn't help but feel a wanting for his own lines that his brother had begun forming earlier, but no, that could wait, after all, there were more pressing matters at hand.

At those words each of them stepped forward to their positioning either side of him, noting the lack of such severe shakes as, instead of leaning on his shoulders, they each wrapped an arm around his waist, somewhat evil smirks on their faces as Branden's hand teasingly stroked over his hip, while his brother lightly licked Jack's neck before they whispered in each of his ears, once again in one of those freaky unison ways.

"Whenever your ready."

Oh, these boys worked at The Fruit Cupboard? Well, there was a kind of slight surprise there, but then again going by their actions and style and oddly feminine ways, what red-blooded homosexual male wouldn't be able to resist such beautiful twins. Jack himself was finding that he was being slowly drawn into them, despite his usual awkward dislike for such fellows and as they embraced him once again, one stroking his hip, the other's tongue running over his neck, he felt an odd thrumming of his heart against his ribs.

Now, sexual excitement for dearest Jack Rydon was usually the last thing on the list. All that mattered to him was the cash or the fix at the end of the game and he hadn't felt attracted, as such, to any of the punters that had picked him up, for a long time. The last time that he had was during his first year on Market Street and from the events that had unfolded there, he hadn't let himself get seduced by anyone since. Still, these boys were oddly magical in their own way and before long he was relishing their touch.

"'Ow 'bout now?" was Jack's breathy reply to the twin's comment as he turned to the bathroom door, eyes glancing about to make sure that nobody was going to disturb them. Being walked in on wasn't the greatest thing in the world. Especially if it was another member of the barstaff that did it. Then he was sure to lose his job and doing that would be something he couldn't afford to do.

Eventually, sure that everything was as safe it was ever going to be, Jack brought his attention to Branden, long fingered hands reaching out to touch the boy, to check that he was real and stroke down the fellow's sides whilst his shadowed eyes flickered over him. The male could see now that they had the bodies of dancers and couldn't understand why he hadn't realised it before. He, himself had never been into The Fruit Cupboard, but he knew a guy who had, name beginning with an "M", and now that he thought on it, he was quite undeniably sure that that certain pink haired boy had told him about the twin dancers that worked there and how he'd have loved to have had them in his bed. And now here Jack Rydon was, with the exact same two, on the very brink of a little male orientated entertainment. He wouldn't tell his friend, not straight out anyway, but there was nothing wrong with a little implying was there?

Now the eighteen year old was burying his head into Branden's neck, as his hands explored the male's rather exposed hips, light red lips brushing feverishly over the boy's pale skin in a chain of kisses that made the elder whore's enthusiasm quite plainly clear, before jerking his head up to suck the youth's earlobe into his mouth in a swift movement.

Dearest Pink Haired Boy was going to be so jelous . . .

Chocolate brown eyes fluttered shut contently, suddenly being able to smell the faint scent of alcohol that filled not only practically all of Abstraction, but that had also crept in with the male as he entered, why, he wasn't exactly thinking about that, but the smell was sweet to Branden, it was definitely an aroma that he could enjoy as he felt the somewhat enthusiastic movements off Jack's lip over his neck.

Andrew, not one to stay still and simply watched, stepped closer behind the male as he showered his brother with his affections. His fishnet covered palms slipped beneath the 'Boomtown Rats' Tee Shirt the male was wearing, skimming against the skin of his waist, then navel, when the slipped down over his crotch, but stayed on the outer side of the material, pretty good considering that move was normally kept against the skin.

Yes, 'that move' as it was so aptly put could be observed quite frequently at The Fruit Cupboard, of course, only on a certain fellow dancer. It had only been commented on negatively once, never more, for one reason. It was one of those rules that had arisen at the brothel, rule number 7 to be exact; no questioning the twins' actions. So, when somebody had muttered about it being 'disgusting that he had his hands down his own brothers pants,' that had definitely crossed a line, and nobody argued with Branden's logic at that point. The man broke the rules, so Branden broke his nose. Fair enough really, in most people's eyes (if they were the owners of an oddly twisted ideals that is) they felt the man deserved to have a metal tipped stiletto heel crack against the side of his nose.

But, as said, Andrew had been a good boy, and kept his hands on their own respective side of the males bondage pants, but that was for now, things could quite easily change at a moments notice, and his hands may not be simply sliding over a material covered groin.

Meanwhile, a rather smug smirk was playing across the pale skin of Bunny's face as he tilted his head to the side slightly, to expose more of his skin until he felt those soft lips swiftly moving up to his ear, a somewhat content, quiet purring like noise passing through his lips as they partly slightly, his tongue gliding over them to moisten them somewhat.

Jack instinctively closed his eyes as he felt the rough material of the fishnet gloves creep beneath his t-shirt, brushing against his soft skin of his stomach in a way that made all the short hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end, half of the hair on his head threatening to do the same. Another prickle of hair standing on end as the boy's hand slipped down over his crotch and the elder silenced a small gasp that was trying its utter-most hardest to escape his mouth. There was no room for letting on how turned on you were when you had business to attend to, no matter how incredibly hot the boys were.

A series of small tugs were delivered over Branden's earlobe, Jack's teeth closing gently over the skin to pull a little before releasing his hold, something that had become quite a habit with the male ever since he had somehow managed to get off a customer by doing just that and nothing more. Yes, it seemed that the man had, certainly, been quite a freak, but it had amused Jack and even more so given him the pride in order to tell everyone that he made a guy ejaculate without touching anything even near his groin. And since then, the whole ear biting and ear playing move had become almost second nature.

One hand removed itself from Branden's tiny waist, as he let go of the boy's ear for a final time, slim fingers gently taking hold of Andrew's "wandering" hand's wrist - at first meaning to remove it from that certain area of his anatomy all together - and then having a slight change of mind. Instead of placing the hand back around his waist like he was first intending to, Jack ever so slowly directed the fingertips down between the wasitband of his bondage pants and the material of his blaringly white boxers. That little voice of thrill chirping merrily in his ear as he lifted his head to plant a kiss on Branden's lips, hot red tongue snaking out to tease them apart.

Twins was such a lovely word . . .

Curious as to what Jack intended to do with his hand on feeling the fingers gripping his wrist, to say he was smug with where he felt his fingertips being guided was a very large understatement. As slowly as they had been directed, his hand moved against the material of his boxers, feeling the soft cotton beneath his fingers with curiosity as he not quite as gently as before, moved his hand gradually more forcefully against the somewhat sensitive area, who cared if there was still a layer of material from the real prize as such, a boy could have some fun couldn't he?

His hand still continuing it's movement over his crotch, Andrew stepped even closer behind him so his chest was practically flat against the others back, his breathing warm as it escaped his mouth onto Jack's neck where his lips gently brushed against the skin, nipping occasionally, teasingly, at the flesh, when he felt a hand wrap around his own waist, Branden's hand, Jack really was sandwiched between the twins now.

As the biting off his ear finished, the other twin had laced a hand, brushing past the waist of Jack, around his brothers waist, his palm flat against the bare skin of his hip while the other placed itself where Andrew's had previously been, beneath the eighteen year olds top, his finger tips skimming over the soft skin of his stomach. He had come to the conclusion that he could quite happily have somebody chew on his ear lobe all day, it was a worryingly satisfying feeling, although not quite as much as Jack's latest idea.

Parting his lips before the others tongue, his own crept out to move against his as he tilted his head lightly to the side, his hand working further up his chest with every moment.

This time eighteen year old Jack Rydon the Whore was unable to silence that little groan of joy that erupted in his voice box and a small whine of pleasure escaped from him at the expense of the twins. Now things really were falling to the male's advantage. For not only had he been able to have his fix and claim ownership of the credit card, but now he was enjoying a thoroughly good time with two boys who didn't treat him asthough he was a piece of dog shit that they had found on their shoe.

For the first time in almost three years, Jack was not only on the giving end of the equation, but on the recieving end too, something that would have probably frightened him to death if it had been some simple old fool that wanted to buy his company. But it wasn't. This was Bunny and Andy, the two sexiest boys that he had come across in a long while.

Deep blue eyes, rimmed with long black eyelashes, fluttered closed as he felt the weight of the boy pressing against him from behind, that same male's breath suddenly hot and heavy against the pale skin of his neck. Another small whine of exhilaration passed the youth's soft lips as he fell into the other's mouth with a peculiar shudder of excitement, his entire body trembling for a second, before becoming still again.

Registering the sweep of the other's hand beneath his t-shirt, Jack felt his heartbeat quicken. Man, what was wrong with him? The last time that his heart had raced like this was on his first night on Market Street, and that was because of nerves. Was he nervous? Was the great, almighty, street corner, drug dealer Jack, nervous? Pushing this thought to the very back of his mind, the male reached his free hand around Bunny's body, resting it upon the small of the boy's back and then letting it slip down the smooth skin and past the leather skirt (if you could actually call it a skirt), trim fingers snaking under the material to brush against the underwear, (or rather lack of underwear) beneath.

Other hand still grasped about Andy's wrist, asthough frightened that the boy might try and break away if he let go, he tilted his head to one side slightly, not enough to break his kiss with the other twin, but enough to allow Andrew a wider space of pale neck to play with.

Who said that the twins had to be freckled, ginger haired and called Fred and George in order for Jack to enjoy himself?

A smile played across Andrews lips as he heard the groan signalling Jack's enjoyment, and also recieved a small squeeze on his hip from his brother's hand that was settled their, obviously for the reason as to why a smile had appeared on the younger of the pairs face as he continued his nipping of Jack's neck. Finding a stretch of the pale skin he was quite happy with for the time being that was more of on his collar, just above the neck of his top, his teeth clasped not so lightly against the skin, his tongue darting against the skin as he sucked on the older whores flesh.

As he did those though, his second hand ran over the collar around the males neck, undoing the buckle and letting it fall to the floor so as to avoid any fatal accidents that may have occured with him being so close, well, on the others neck. Happy that he had gotten rid of that little obstacle, his free hand was now free to do as it pleased, and trust me, it did.

Slipping down over the side of the tee that the other was wearing, his fingertips crept over Jack's hand that was so firmly holding his hand in place, following his other limbs current situation as he slowly slipped his hand beneath the bondage pants, but this time, he wasn't going to settle for the outer side of the boxers, oh no, instead his fingers were now moving against the bare skin of the males crotch until they wrapped themselves around Jack's manhood, gently caressing the ever-so-sensitive skin as he spared a glance at his brother.

Branden himself seemed to be enjoying himself just as much as Andy as the movements of his hand beneath Jack's top continued, almost as if he was examining every inch of skin that covered the males torso with curiousity.

A smile tugged at the sides of his mouth as his tongue decided to explore the drug dealers mouth more thoroughly, partly due to the fact that he felt the others hand against the revealed skin on his back before it moved. Curious as to what the other was intending on doing, he pressed his body closer to Jack's, feeling oddly satisfied with himself as he felt those same fignertips skimming against the lace that forged his underwear.

Jack was rather glad when he felt nimble fingers remove the spikey choker from about his neck, it had not only been rather dangerous for both of the boys, but it had also been starting to make his neck sweat - something that wasn't attractive even in the slightest way possible. He heard the faint clink of the metal against the tiles, as it hit the floor of the bathroom, a wave of relief suddenly spreading through his ashen neck like wild fire. Oh it felt so goodamn good to be free of the heavy thick leather and the way that Andrew was exploring his collar like that felt oh so goddamn good too.

A curious eye opened as another hand slid down towards his crotch, this one being a little more daring than the other, however, and there was a peculiar moment when Jack Rydon thought that he might die of complete bliss. Eyes slowly closing again as he savoured the gentle movements of the Andrew's hand, Jack lifted his grip from the boy's other wrist, now feeling content that he wasn't going to do a runner any time soon, and brought it around to stroke Bunny's neck, smooth fingers running up and down the flesh. Up and over the fellow's choker they ran, for a matter of moments, before sliding up to curl into the boy's red streaked hair.

But it was then, as his tongue was skirting the roof of the red and black haired boy's mouth and one hand was brushing tenderly over the fellow's backside, that he heard a familiar voice. No, that voice wasn't just familiar, it was his boss!

"RYDON! WHAT THE HECK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT?"

In the very same instant, Jack Rydon had leapt clear of the embrace, stumbling awkwardly away from the twins, a deep red blush coming to his cheeks. Blue eyes blinked slowly upwards to meet the other man's gaze, a look of utter distress washing over the dark irises.

Oh fuck. Now he really was in trouble.

And it was then, as the eighteen year old gazed meekly up at the burly man in the formal black suit, like a small child who has been caught doing something naughty, that he realised that he was shaking. It seemed that the boy's last cocaine fix hadn't been powerful enough at all. He was coming down off of the heroin and his almighty boss was right there to see it.

"I-I..." but the sentence faltered on the boy's lips. Words no longer existed in the male's blurry mind and a strange unwelcoming chill passed through him.

Jack Rydon was totally, and officially, "coming down" . .

A/N: Clearly unfinished, half of the credit goes to the lovely Emz and maybe if I get enough nice reviews I'll nag her to write her next reply?

Press the pretty button now, you know you want to . . .