A homeless boy sat on the damp ground behind a betting shop in one of the more dangerous area of Beijing and waited patiently.
The redhead knew he shouldn’t keep returning to this exact same area to earn his nightly hostel/food money, but it might have something to do with a weird customer who he ‘serviced’ regularly.
The boy had no way of knowing when the black haired man would turn up, there was no pattern to his visits, sometimes he even went missing for weeks,
but Mo Guan Shan had grown to anticipate the mysterious client’s visits.
The reason why Mo kept coming back, apart from the big tip, was that he had broken the most important rule a MB or money boy like him should always stick to: Never genuinely enjoying it.
Mo also liked that client because there was never full on penetrative sex, so for a few minutes he didn’t have to have some old dude coming on his face,
or beating him for not letting them fuck him bare. What did they do, the black haired stranger and him? Well....
An expensive black car would appear and park at the end of the alley, the man would get out, lean down and kiss whichever woman was driving him that night.
Mo could never remember because they changed frequently, like yeah the man had no need to pay for sex, it was confusing in the beginning.
Once the women drove away he would stop and turn to look towards Mo’s spot where he usually hung out. Then the dude would begin to walk slowly.
As the man came slightly closer Mo would step out to make himself visible.
The black haired man, upon seeing Mo, would throw away the cigarette he was smoking and pick up the pace until he was walking faster.
After a few hundred yards the man would break into a long legged jog, his strides eating up the distance quickly.
At this moment Mo Guan Shan would feel himself getting hard as fucking stone, his cock would fill in a rush.
Normally he had to caress himself to get it up for clients, but by the time the man had broken into a full on hard run, shoes pounding on the stone towards him,
Mo’s heart would start pounding in his ears and he would flush with desire at the thought of what came next.
By the time the man was 100 metres away, Mo would already start backing up because he knew that when the man reached him, he would crash into Mo wrapping his big muscled arms around the redhead.
Then the black haired dude would shudder like he was returning home, like Mo being in his arms was so damn right it was painful.
The first time this happened Mo had no clue what was happening, because historically his clients never hugged him, not unless it involved them hugging his ass or mouth with their smelly,
Over time Mo had grown addicted to the feel of those hard arms wrapping him up in their warm embrace. It cruelly gave him a glimpse at what affection or love might feel like.
When the man satisfied his need to squeeze Mo to him from chest to knee for at least two minutes or so, he would pull back and clasp Mo’s face in his tanned hands.
Then that hot desperate gaze would lock on his and Mo sometimes felt like the top of his head was going to blow off with the heat which hazed in the air between them.
Five minutes might have gone by and still the man usually wouldn’t touch him sexually, fuck him or degrade him. He just made Mo feel like he was worth something for a change.
Then Mo’s favourite part of their encounter would happen.
The black haired man, still holding his face firmly between his hands, would lean in slowly......slowly, sometimes too slowly Mo wanted to yell at him for being a tease, but he never did.
One does not fucking shout at ones customers. Then his lips met a hard, warm mouth and they kissed.
It was always a desperate, soul affirming kiss,
tongues sliding together hotly until the alley was filled with gasping breaths and groans because it just felt so fucking amazing to just make out with this black haired dude.
Normally they kissed for ages, or until a blaring car horn sounded and they reluctantly pulled apart.
Then his weird customer usually handed him some notes and walked away, back to his expensive car and revolving stable of women.
Today however there was a change.
After the usual routine, Mo Guan Shan decided to speak for the first time since beginning their routine. When the man shoved money into his hand, Mo handed him it back and said:
“I would do it for free.” Mo flushed and coughed to cover his embarrassment.
“Why would you do that?” The man’s voice was a pleasant baritone.
“Because...... I like you, yeah you don’t need to pay me.” Mo hoped the feelings weren’t just make believe, he had felt the passion between them.
Going by the desperation from this man every time he held Mo, Mo got the impression that it was something he wanted too.
“Whore, don’t try to make this into something it’s not.” The black haired man’s tone was cold and spiteful.
“What? You come here because you like me too! So that’s why you....”. A brutal punch to his liver dropped him to his knees, shutting him up immediately.
“I should beat you for thinking I could like a filthy piece of shit like you, I’m a Triad, gay trash gets thrown out of town or into the river.
” The man spat at his feet, the threat easily understandably. Then his customer turned and made his way back down the alley towards the ever present black car.
Mo cursed as a tear ran down his cheek and dripped on his trembling hand,
a sob broken free from his lips and for the first time since he was thrown out of home for bringing dishonour to his family, he wept.
His quiet, desperate sounds must have reached the man because he stopped, his broad back tense. The Triad shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and softly uttered these parting words to Mo:
“Never come here again, they will kill you.”
Mo took these words to heart. He never returned to Beijing city, no matter how his heart ached and life grew painful again, he never wanted to see that shitty gangster ever again.