…

I have no clue why I'm here… His hand feels slightly clammy, as if he's nervous. I don't think he really is though, it's all routine to him. Practiced to perfection.

You probably don't understand what the hell I'm talking about, right? I'll retrace my steps so you know where I am now.

Every once in a while I go out to the coffee shop and buy a little bit of weed, after that I usually go and have some drinks with my German cousins and my younger sister, Manon*. Tonight isn't one of those nights though.

I was wandering through the capital, late at night, in winter. Orange lights danced on the water of the canals which run through the city. I saw red lights too. I passed windows with scantily-clad girls dancing in them, I glanced at them briefly before moving on. None of them really caught my eye… Then I entered the area where most of the males were located. Some of the men were dancing, others were simply looking pretty. A particular neon sign seemed to stand out among all the others.

"SEXotic boys…" I mutter under my breath.

It's corny – laughably so. But I looked in the window beside it, and my eyes widened in shock.

His skin looked so tantalizingly smooth, it glowed in the red lights of the room he was dancing in. Rolling his hips in those leather short-shorts and tossing his head around, he was truly doing his best, up there with his hands placed against the wall. The other men walking the streets here glanced at him briefly before moving on, they didn't want the rent boys, they want the girls this city is so famous for. The ones dancing in the window showing of their bodies hoping for a rich patron who turns out to be kind and wants to be a regular client. A knight in shining armour, but that never happens.

After a bit more dancing, we made eye-contact. I couldn't tell what colour they were, but the lust in his eyes was undeniable. This was for real. Not put on, but genuine desire. After he beckoned me with a finger through the glass, I hurried inside.

He was waiting for me. Lounging in a leather armchair with his legs hanging over one of the chair's arms. He smiled lazily.

"Hoe heet je? Ik wil wel weten wat voor naam ik straks moet kreunen," What is your name? I want to know what name I'll be moaning later on. His Dutch had a strange accent which I couldn't quite place. Italian? No… Spanish. This guy was a Spaniard.

"Noem me maar Abel," Just call me Abel.

He simply got up and took me by my hand.

"Kom mee"

It's rather interesting how I can hear a multitude of different languages throughout the hallway. That's Norwegian, with the slight singing sound to it, Danish with a lot of it being swallowed, Swedish, which sounded like drunk Danish and Finnish, which was given away by a loud "Perkele!", I believe I heard some Cantonese and Icelandic** here… I guess the sign wasn't just for show...

I spot a pair of men up the stairs. It's a tight squeeze getting past the two of them. The smaller blond is pinned against the wall by a larger blond, who is whispering in a language filled with purrs and growls, Russian.

"You might want to take that to your room, Alfred," says the Spaniard in accented English, winking at the tanned male (I assumed he was, I mean, the lighting was dim).

Finally we make it up the stairs to his room. I can't help but notice that his bed sheets are red. How typical. The curtains aren't drawn, which disturbs me slightly, so I quickly remedy this.

As I draw the curtains, I suddenly feel two arms encircling my waist. They're thinner than mine and his hands are smaller too. I turn to face him, running one hand through his dark brown locks, the other is placed on the small of his back. I still can't tell what his colour his eyes are. The red light makes it impossible, and I can't stand it.

We both shift towards the bed. He falls unto the soft mattress when his knees hit the edge. The grin that plays on his lips is lazy. He's not really trying, but god, I wish he was. I want him to want more of me. I lean down to kiss him. He lets me do so, letting me invade his mouth with my tongue. His own rubs gently against mine. I know he's done this so many times before. And it infuriates me that he has been with other men. But I have to deal with those feelings later.

For now, I have a beautiful, willing man beneath me who actually wants me. I'm not just another client. This is different. When we pause for breath, he says:

"Je bent… anders dan de anderen, je wilt me echt, ja toch?" You're… different to the others, you truly want me, right? It takes a moment for me to get over how sweet and sincere his tone is (and how exotic his accent sounds).

"Ja…" I murmur in response.

I shift unto the bed, he does the same. Now he is on top of me, sliding his fingers down my clothed chest lightly.

"Je hebt teveel aan…" You're wearing too much… he whines with a pout.

I smile briefly, before sitting up to pull my shirt off. He makes to take my scarf off too, but I stop him.

"Niet doen," Don't… it's crude, perhaps too simple, but despite all the feelings that are a part of this, I am a client. I feel sickened by my own words.

He tilts his head a bit, contemplating on what to do. He lets go of my scarf, but pushes me back down unto the plush pillows. He reaches over to the bedside table, taking out three things. I eye them cautiously and then it hits me again. I'm still a client.

He licks my chest, sucking on a nipple here, tweaking it's twin there. I can't help but groan at his expertise. With his free hand, he unbuckles my belt and unbuttons my pants. My eyes widen as I gasp. Was the air always this cold? I groan as he blows lightly over my erection, my shoulders twitching as I grasp his. He looks up at me again, that smile is still in place.

He takes one of those items and sits up. He's looking directly at me, I feel slightly inadequate. He's experienced, whereas I have had far less sexual encounters. I notice something which seems so important right now.

His eyes are green. It's such a small thing, but it means so much to me right now. They're a bit darker than mine, but god, they're the most beautiful I've ever seen. He keeps on looking at me, even as he expertly tears the condom packaging open with his teeth. He pulls it over my arousal quickly – it's all routine to him by now.

He keeps those green, green eyes on me at all times, when he leans down to take my hardened member into his mouth, when his slender fingers dance over my chest. Like they're searching for something, something hidden. The combined sensations leave me shuddering and gasping as I desperately clutch at his slim, slim, shoulders. I want to bruise him, but I restrain the urge. It because I want him to remember. Always, always, always…

When he swallows me whole I snap, my back nearly does too as I arch up off the red, red, bed and cry out as loudly as I possibly can. I fall back down just as quickly, and he still has that lazy, lazy grin on his face. I cringe a bit when he pulls the used condom off of me and ties a knot in it, throwing it in the bin in the corner.

I've had enough of this playing. But I won't be rough. Oh no, I refuse to be like all those clients who treat him like a toy and behave like mean children. I sit up again and kiss him.

"Ik wil je…"

A simple sentence. It's barely audible. Even if one didn't speak Dutch, they would be able to tell what I meant. This man… I want him. I can not let go. I want to know him, about him, what his favourite colour is, what kind of movies he likes, all these simple, meaningless things.

"Ik wil jou ook…"

I take this as a cue to kiss him again, pressing him close. He moans into the kiss. He pulls away though, and shimmies his shorts off. When they're off, I hold him close again. One hand on his back, the other on his member which is dripping pre-cum now. I massage it gently, I don't want to hurt him. Though it hurts to do so I imagine him with another man leaning over him, fucking him dry and jerking him off roughly. I try to suppress the images and manage to do so when he looks at me with his green, green eyes. He's shaking in my arms, and a tear rolls down his cheek. Shocked, I ask:

"Ga-gaat het?" A-are you alright?

"Gaat wel, het is gewoon dat niemand is zo… zachtaardig voor me geweest," I'm fine, it's just that no one has ever been so… gentle with me. His voice is small, like he is nervous.

I let another small smile appear on my face. I kiss the tears away and let him sit down on my lap.

"Ik wil je geen pijn doen…" I don't want to hurt you… Cheesy, but it's the only thing I can say now.

Shaking, he grabs another condom and a tube of lubricant. He hands the lubricant to me. Whilst he busies himself with the latex, I pop the cap off the bottle and coat my fingers in the slick substance. I gently press a digit to his puckered entrance, he quickly sits up and shudders at the cold sensation. He lets out a groan as I slide a finger inside. He's used to it. I hate that so much, I want him to be mine. All mine and no one else's. I thrust the digit slowly in and out of him, he writhes in my lap when I add yet another.

"A-abel… m-meer…" he moans.

The sounds coming from him spur me on to continue. As gently as possibly I scissor my fingers inside of him. I add another and he's arching up against me and oh – the look in his eyes… it's raw, real and it turns me on.

"Alsjeblieft, Abel…" he mewls, panting and gasping in my lap as he grinds our erections together.

I pull my digits out and reach for the tube, he beats me to it – coating my arousal in cool slick liquid. He keeps his beautiful, beautiful eyes trained on me as he gets up on his knees, positioned over my length.

Slowly, slowly he slides down, his arms around my neck and his fingers tangling themselves in my hair. He tugs gently, enough to pull my head back but not enough to hurt me. He latched on to my neck, planting kisses on the sensitive skin and occasionally biting. I moan loudly as he shifts up and down, I'm shaking at the amazing heat inside of him. I want to moan his name, but – I can't…

"Oh Abel…" he moans.

"Vertel me je naam, ik moet het weten…" Tell me your name, I have to know… I manage to say.

"A-antonio…" He stutters a bit, a tear in his eye and my heart breaking at the sight, he's shaking and I want him to feel loved.

"Nou dan Antonio…" I lift him up as I shift into a kneeling position, before laying him down on those red, red sheets.

I press my lips to his forehead and then whisper in his ear:

"Laat me je behandelen as een geliefde…" Let me treat you like a lover…

He smiles weakly as I move my hips pressing myself inside of him again. Antonio closes his green, green eyes and lets his mouth fall open in pleasure. Placing my forearms on either side of his head, I quicken my pace and kiss his soft, soft lips. When we break apart I whisper again:

"Antonio…"

"Abel…" moans the Spaniard in response.

Supporting my upper half on one arm, I clasp my fingers around his member rubbing and pulling at it. Apparently he likes it, because Antonio arches off the bed just like I did moment earlier.

"ABEL!" He screams, spilling his essence unto his stomach.

The heat around my erection spasms and twitches, almost bringing me to climax. After a few more thrusts I finally come with my arms wrapped around Antonio and my face buried in his neck. I whisper his name in his ear again, wanting to help him remember. Always, always, always…

"Mag ik blijven?" I ask Antonio, hoping I can stay with this beautiful man. We're lying on his bed, the only thing on us is my scarf encircling both of our necks.

"Het spijt me… Eigenlijk mag het niet," I'm sorry… Actually, it's not allowed. At least he's honest about it.

"Hoe kan ik je hier vandaan halen?" How can I get you away from this place? I play with his wavy locks, looking into those green, green eyes which will drive me to the brink of insanity if he can't be mine.

"Dat moet je aan de baas vragen," Typical. Now I have to ask a most-likely insane lady 'May I buy him off you?'

"Doe ik straks wel, voor nu, blijven we hier…"

For a change, I'm in no hurry. Soon he'll be mine anyway, no man can have him then.

*I like the name Manon for Belgium, because my psychologist is called Manon XD She also looks like an (much) older Belgium XD

** Holland is quite "multicultural" (I hate that word) so I think he'd be able to recognize a lot of different languages.

How was it? Should I write another chapter with a different pairing? Which pairing? RusAme, DenNor, Sufin, IceHK? Perhaps one not mentioned in the fic, like FRUK or PruCan? (Lol I like all those pairings XD I won't write about a pairing I don't like so... yeah...)