Changeling Pt. 1 - Teil 3

Outwardly he sauntered away like a dancing kitten, without haste or rush, smiling over some private joke his brain seemed to be telling him. Inwards he was running screaming at the mere thought of touching that guy. He couldn't have stopped, if he had started.
Kelaste wasn't gay, he was sure of this. The sight of a nude male didn't leave him dripping pre-cum and drooling brainlessly, and he didn't check out random guys in bars or pubs. Couldn't be gay, having had more girlfriends in his short life than some celebrities. He enjoyed girls, and they enjoyed him. But sometimes, occasionally, he met someone that awakened some deep, dark lust inside him, mostly because of a glance, a special scent, a gesture.. It was like a curse, living in this world of permanent temptations, and Kelaste had learned a way to deal with this: Drugs.
He left the main room and headed for the toilets, entering a hallway next to the bar. Here it was dark, cool, smelling faintly of the sharp pang Heroin gave off when heated, cigarettes and vomit. "Unclean" would have been incorrect, and dirty didn't cover the extent of refuse and dirt the floor was covered in. The furious whines of "Angerhammer" were dampened by the whirring of a ventilation system and the bubbling of the busy drainpipes, and Kelaste took a few moments for himself to enjoy the quietness of this way more rotten piece of space.
Out of this quietness the sounds of urgent, hushed copulation emerged, gave this new visitor an idea of the multiple ways to "use" a bathroom. It got pretty clear, that emptying the ol' bladder wasn't top priority in this part of the "Philtre", and the mere thought made Kelaste's stomach clench in excitement; one because he did admit to being a voyeur on every flavor of Sex, and secondly because he didn't intend to pay cash for his fix today.
With silent steps he paced through the few bystanders - some of them waiting to be able to actually pee, some of them waiting for a customer - intently looking for someone giving away the "dealer-image". They weren't hard to spot if you knew what you were looking for, and it didn't take long to find the local one, a thin, unclean looking, pale guy with stubbles on his chin and greasy hair. His steady fidgetting gave him away as a dealer/user, and made Kelaste look for an alternative for a few seconds. Users weren't into sex as payment as much as clean dealers, but the latter were way harder to find. Sure enough he didn't spot anyone else, and finally gave in with a sigh.

He approached the weasely guy with a small smile, unpackaged his "nervous, but hopeful"-expression, and started the verbal tug o' war over payment for a simple H-fix. Guys like that dealer did get some women into their claws now and then, but most of them were sick already, or thin like broomsticks, and here Kelaste was at an advantage: He was beautiful, not handsome, his features a bit girlish, definitely not masculine, and he liked to wear makeup and skintight clothing. If you went down the drug alley far enough, you didn't care for the gender anymore, as long as you could pretend.
Pretending it was not a girl sucking his dick was what Joey the dealer did a few minutes later. Leaning against the tile wall of the men's room, trousers open and tugged down enough to expose his lean cock he had a firm grip on Kelaste's hair, as if in fear of getting bitten. His crotch smelled of sweat and day old clothes, and the wetness of the stained floor slowly wetted Kelastes knees, but he ignored those incommodities. The frustrated sexual tension that had built up while dealing with Mr. Mohawk before now went into the working of his tongue. He delved into the exploration of his cock, working the tip of his tongue around the small slit on the tip of it before sucking him deeper to scan for the bulging veins on the underside of his shaft. Joey purred a coarse, hushed groan, as he put a bit of pressure behind his sucking, and pulled his head into his crotch with a sharp tug that made Kelase gasp. Feeling his own cock twitch in sweet agony against the tightness of his pants he gasped softly, and worked his tongue harder down his length. His slurping, wet sounds filled the bathroom, and even if he couldn't stop and peek, he felt the intense glares of bystanders after a few moments.
Audience, perfect! his mind purred in utter delight, and made him ram his head down until Joey's prick pushed into his throat.
The dealer uttered a low oath, his shaft twitched one time, then a second time, and then he grasped Kelaste's Head harsher and bucked into his mouth, while hot semen flooded down his gullet. It took him quite some time, giving Kelaste the feeling of suffocation before he stopped fucking his head, and let go of him. As he pulled out of his mouth, a thread of spunk dribbled out of the corner of Kelaste's mouth, making him raise his hand to pick it up with two fingers and lick them clean.

Then Joey seemed to realize they had been watched, swore under his breath and let a small plastic satchel fall onto the floor before fleeing the scene.