Chapter Text
Jorge sighed, listening to the sound of the motel door clicking shut. He turned in his bed, eyeing the wad of cash left on the dresser by his patron. He swallows, sitting up and rubbing his head. It was always the moment afterward that was the hardest. The moment where he felt his sickest. He shrugged off the thoughts, grabbing his clothes and redressing. The young man grabbed his smokes and a lighter, stepping outside into the cool Florida evening.
Just down the patio, Jorge could see another man smoking quietly. An older gentlemen, the manager of the motel. The two men nod in acknowledgment of one another. Jorge lit his cigarette, quietly exhaling smoke. He looks over as the older man approached him. “Jorge, is it?”
Jorge nods, “yes, sir.”
“I’m Bobby, the manager of this motel.” The older man introduced himself. Jorge nodded, looking him over. He couldn't help but notice how Bobby's blue eyes glistened in the moonlight. “Look, I don't mean to be…presumptuous, but…I've noticed that you have a lot of late night guests.”
Jorge swallows, “is…that a problem, sir?”
Bobby inhaled, his face stern, “quit it with the ‘sir’, kid. I just wanted to make sure you weren't running some kind of…nefarious business under my roof.”
Jorge stood straight, “I’m just a popular guy, Robert.”
Bobby exhaled in amusement, grinning at the young man. “Funny.” Jorge grins. “Just…stay out of trouble, okay?”
“Don't worry, I swear I'm a good boy, Bobby.” Jorge smiled at him, taking a drag of his cigarette.
Bobby's jaw clenched, he looked over the young man. If it wasn't for the dark night, you could see Jorge's comment brought heat to the man's face. He silently appreciated the young man's form. “Goodnight, Jorge.” He said simply, giving the man a pat on the shoulder and walking off.
Bobby kept a close eye on Jorge. He noted that the young man's behavior didn't change. He’d spend his day smoking and lounging, then have a mysterious man over late at night. Bobby watched his motel door from afar. Quietly imagining what was transpiring inside. It was wrong, he knew, to think about a guest like that. But their interaction a few nights ago, left an impression on the older man.
He also worried about the young man. He knew that this was a dangerous profession Jorge was taking, and he imagined it wasn't all by choice. He swallows, slowly approaching Jorge's room after a man snuck out. There was something in the man's eye that struck Bobby. Something akin to guilt.
Bobby pressed his ear to the door, knocking. There was nothing. He clenched his jaw. “Jorge? I know you're in there, kid. I just wanna check on you.” There was no response. Bobby’s heart began to race, he grabbed his master key, unlocking the door. His eyes widened at the sight. The motel room had been trashed, a lamp broken in the corner, sheets thrown around. And blood. There was blood. “Jorge?!” Bobby rounded the bed, there he was. Jorge keeled over on the ground, half-naked, his nose bleeding. Bobby knelt behind him. “Jorge, Jesus.” He cursed, gently touching the young man's shoulder. Jorge tensed at his touch. Bobby reached into his pocket, grabbing his phone.
“Please, don't.” Jorge croaked out upon hearing the phone dialing.
Bobby looked at him, his phone ready to call the authorities. But he knew why Jorge hesitated. He knew the officers could get Jorge in trouble if they knew what Jorge was doing. Bobby exhaled, putting his phone down. “Come here, kid.” He spoke softly, carefully lifting the young man. Jorge got up with a groan, he held onto Bobby as the older man took him into the motels small bathroom. Bobby got the water running for a bath, carefully sitting Jorge down. Jorge pants, squeezing his eyes shut. He knelt over the toilet, vomiting. Bobby turned to him. “…did he drug you?”
“No.” Jorge groaned.
“Are you sure?”
“I'm sure!” Jorge hissed, siting back on the floor. Bobby finally got a good look of Jorge's face. His nose bloodied, his neck was bruised, his face stained with tears.
“Come on.” Bobby said, carefully leading Jorge into the bath.
Jorge shivered, sitting in the warm water. He panted as he looked down. He swallows, feeling Bobby carefully begin to wash his back. “…you don't have to do this.” He said softly.
Bobby hushed him. “It’s okay. I've got you.” Jorge closed his eyes, his body trembling as he began to silently cry. Bobbys heart broke for the young man. He watched with melancholy eyes as Jorge allowed him to clean him. “I'm so sorry, Jorge.”