Far Too Pretty To Be Givin' It Cheap

Carter Lacroix was the kind of man you saw on the street and didn't glance back at. Sure, he was sort of attractive in a typical southern boy fashion which was rare in New York City. He had a great smile and was the kind of man who would stand holding a door open for ladies, small children, and men if he had to all day. But by night he was a cop on the streets of New York City. You never saw him if he didn't want you to, something he had learned from being a member of the Green Berets. He was an undercover member of New Yorks finest, someone who they sent in to take down the big guns.

Tonight was no different. He had been told to look for men who were working the streets. He was dressed as he would outside of work: a tan cowboy hat, a button up plaid shirt, tight jeans, and black cowboy boots. He looked like a typical client. He went out on the street, looking for someone that he could buy. He saw a handsome young man, thought his face was marred with a black eye, standing against a wall. He smiled, "Howdy!"

John looked up when he heard a southern voice. He smirked. Another client. He went over to the car, leaning down against th door. "Can I help you, sweetheart?" He purred.

John had been in this life for a very long time. But even so, he still had trouble deciphering who was a client, and who was an undercover cop trying to clean up the streets of John's kind.

But he looked at the man and decided to try for another client, despite his bruises. John was 17. Just turned. When he was 18, he wanted to go to school. but he doubted it would happen. He never finished high school.

Carter smirked, looking the man over as the sounds of Trace Adkin's I Got My Game On blared over his speakers. He tipped the brim of his hat up so that he could get a better look at the man. "How much?"

"40 for a hand job. 60 for a blow job. 100 for the whole package. It's an extra 20 if you wanna bite me." John breathed, twirling his hair seductively. "But I don't kiss." He said firmly.

"Get in the car," Carter drawled, unlocking the door so that Johnny could get in. When the young man was in the car, that's when he would get out the badge and the handcuffs.

John smirked and walked over to the passenger seat, not knowing what was about to happen. He slipped into the car and shut the door, not hearing it lock. He played with his hair and waited for the man to take them to a secluded spot.

Almost as soon as the man was in the back of his car, Carter showed him his badge. "Sir, yeh are under arrest. Yeh have the right to remain silent, anything yeh say can and will be held against yeh in a court of law. Yeh have the right to an attorney, if yeh cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for yeh."

John's eyes went wide and he tried to open the door. But it was locked. He sank down in the seat, tears starting to leak from his eyes and drip down his cheeks. "P-Please don't arrest me, please... I can't g-go back to jail, please..." He whimpered, his shoulders trembling slightly as he thought of his last stay in jail.

Carter's features didn't waiver, at first. But as he watched the crying young man in his seat, something inside of him grew curious. He had never been curious at any case, ever. "Who do yeh work for?" he softly asked.

"H-Hunter..." John whispered, wiping his eyes and sniffling slightly. He coughed a bit, pulling his coat tighter around him as his throat felt like it was on fire. His head hurt as well. He didn't doubt he had some sort of disease at this point.

Carter sighed. Just great, even if he took this man to the prison just for a night there was a possibility that someone in the division would let him go. Hunter was a much feared pimp, someone who wasn't to be messed with. Taking a deep breath, Carter sighed, "Yeh need somewhere to stay for the night? I'll pay however much money yeh need to make the quota fer the night."

John looked down, sniffling. "You don't have to do that. I'll be fine on my own. I usually am." He whispered. That was a lie. He was young, he was pretty small. He was always a target for a gang rape or getting robbed of all the money he had earned.

"I insist," Carter nodded, the song switching to Heartbreak Warfare by John Mayer. Sure he was a country boy but he liked all kinds of music...and men.

John sighed. "I-I guess..." He said quietly, coughing again. He massaged his throat a little before sinking back down into the seat, pulling his thin coat tighter around him.

"Something wrong with yeh kid?" Carter asked as he turned his head to look at Johnny.

"I-I just feel a little sick." John said, sniffling a bit. His throat felt so swollen, he just wanted to go to sleep.

Carter nodded, "We'll stop by a pharmacy." He yawned, using the hand that wasn't on the steering wheel to wipe his tired eyes.

John shook his head. "You're tired. You don't have to do that. Really..." He said softly.

Carter smiled kindly, "Oh no, I insist." Sure he was tired, he didn't get much sleep anymore. But he was willing to do it.

John sighed. "O-Okay." He murmured,his voice cracked horrible. He cleared his throat a bit before gazing out the window tiredly.

Carter looked at Johnny before turning down his radio a bit and pulling into a local drug store. He wanted to help the man but...well...with his looks he didn't know if he would be able to control himself.

John got out on shaky legs and walked in with Carter. He bought what he needed fr his supposed cold before he saw a sigh for free HIV testing. He looked at Carter. "D-Do you mind if I..." He said, gesturing to the sign. He wasn't sure if he was clean...

Carter shook his head, "No, no I don't mind. Go get yourself checked out if that's what you want to do." He smiled polietly at the young man.

John nodded and looked down before going to ask if he could get a test. WHen the test was done, John walked out, he looked more relived than he'd ever had in his life. "I'm clean." He breathed with a shaky smile.

Carter smiled, "Thats wonderful! How about we go get somethin' to eat? I know this little pizza place that's open all the time."