have it all

it started with one. one extra day on his own. he still returned to the same resort, the same room, the same bed, as intended-- there was a little disappointment, a little soothing to be done, but andy made easy work of making up for a day's lost time. that was the first loosening of the leash, the test of his boundary. how closely tethered to the man funding and fucking him did he have to be?

what was this lingering, nagging feeling dragging him eastward? - or westward, depending on which beach they lounged on.

—I just want to know you're safe.

chicago, 10:20 pm

from a single day to two, then three; he worked his absences in slowly, but inevitably, like something the man would just have to come to accept. unavoidable. upsetting, but taken in doses, made up for with thighs spread over his lap, hands running down his sides. andy could be more affectionate when he was 'home', if it meant he got away with being away for longer. the first time he was gone for a week, he almost didn't know what to do with himself. seven whole days. it hasn't been that long since he'd been doing his own thing, not wrapped in the isolating atmosphere of one rich man among of sea of others.... has it?

—did I say something?

new york, 1:33 am

calling it 'freedom' was an overstatement; from tarot VI to XV, his bonds were of his own imagining. maybe he could've walked off whenever. maybe the money piling up was too good to put a stopper on. maybe the sex wasn't that bad, after all; good enough to upend his life for, at least, and that's just with the man himself, let alone the others he'd meet making his rounds. almost whatever he wanted, almost whenever he wanted. all-inclusive. all-exclusive. it was easy. that kind of thing sucks away at a man's soul, as much as niko joked about selling his. 'to the highest bidder', the joke would go, and some days he felt like it was more real than others. here, in a city across the country, he could only wonder how true it might've been.

—if you're done, then you're done.

new york, 1:39 am

one last deposit. had to give the guy credit, he ran a tight ship. niko's final payout was more than enough to last him a while, and he's surprised he even got it in the first place, but that was always part of the deal. incentive to stay, allowance to go. only now, did he choose to jump ship, and that was only due to an itch he could feel all the way down into his bones, into his core. some sort of pull, not just downwards, but forwards. to new york. feeling a drive for something other than casually getting some felt like he had his life again, even if he'd had it the entire time. maybe it was just on loan, for a little while. or maybe he ignored it, in the face of the stability he so dearly craved. what mattered now, was where he was. somewhere new, at least to himself. was there an active 'community' in this park? niko squints out into the dark, glancing up from his nighttime-tinted phone, swiping the texts and notifications away as they'd appear. this card, canceled. that card, canceled. these plans, these tickets, these expenses, canceled. canceled. canceled. each slide of his thumb to the right felt like a latch unbuckling. undoing a girdle after a long day's lift. that same thumb habitually opened the same apps as usual, names or faces or torsos, wondering who or what he might find, here.