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Fic: Takes A Licking

Title: Takes A Licking
Pairing: Donnie/Sage, but not as gross as it sounds I think
Word Count: 454
Disclaimer: Nothing in this belongs to me.
A/N: This is- more of an experiment than anything. I wanted to get my love for the hooker!verse back, and I wanted to try and writing a new character. So hoping I didn't fail too much, here's a small piece that hopefully people will like?

It wasn't prostitution. No matter how much Carl looked at him oddly when he walked into the studio with a limp, or the Irish-lilted mocking Quinn spewed his way for letting slip a bruise or a bite, or how determinedly quiet Tacoma and Rebecca kept about it, it just wasn't.

For one, he never got paid. That surely had to the big deciding point. Unless you counted sleeping with his wife who didn't even want to look at him most times to get her paycheck whoring yourself out, but that was just marriage. What he did was... marketing. Give a good blowjob in a car, get protection from being sued by the film that was getting remade. Bend over in an office and take any toy they had, suddenly own a camera where the camera quality didn't fizz.

He wasn't so much a liar that he could say this was the life he'd hoped he have, but being able to eat fries a couple of times a week with Tacoma on the leather couch and watching Rebecca strum her beaten up guitar was often worth it.

Often, not always. But who wanted to know about that? Like nobody wanted to know about how there was a regular guy he had to see on the weekends, with suits and curly hair and a young face, with a disturbing smile and a soothing voice that nevertheless promised pain if you asked what he did, what his name really was other than just an initial or- basically just asked anything about him.

He was the kind of guy who inspired both fear and a need to please. That was evident, as he'd ordered about – must have been ten performances? And in each one, the help he promised was taken away because of a flaw. Didn't scream right, swallowed when he should have spit, jolted too much from the hot needle piercing his skin, that kinda thing.

But after a session that involved alcohol in places that it shouldn't be, he couldn't help himself.

“Do I get anything this time?” He realized it wasn't his place to ask, and would probably retract any offer immediate, but he was trying his best and his pride was fragile.

Mr. M chuckled, brushing a finger over his mouth. “You've always got someone being nice to you. Isn't that good enough?” The part of him that rushed around finishing a movie just because it would make Tacoma happy was satisfied. He pushed down the rest, maybe he could puppy eyes at Carl for actual meat that wasn't psychotic, and he could spend the night making sure the lighting fixture didn't fall apart.

Marketing was a tough business after all.


Jan. 16th, 2013 07:27 pm (UTC)
Oh Lord. I can somehow actually see Donnie doing this, but... Ouch my heart. He's sacrificing so much for Tacoma and Rebecca and... OUCH OUCH OUCH.


piano on fire - apiphile
white horses, they will take me away

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