Marco let out a soft breath as Isaac mentioned the fact that he did, indeed, have a job to do at the Tiger’s Den. Of course, he knew as much, it wasn’t as though he was dense. He was fully aware of the fact that he did have work to do whether or not he truly wished to do it, but a majority of the time he wasn’t forced into it when he truly had no desire to interact with the living. He grumbled something under his breath incoherently as his part time boss, part time lover reassured him that he wasn’t attempting to punish him. It surely felt like a punishment to be talked to in such a disheartened, disappointed tone of voice. Just the gentlest touch from the man rectified the situation, however.<br/><br/>The young prostitute lifted his gaze upwards as Isaac’s gloved hand found his cheek, his fingers dancing along the boy’s pale, gaunt face. He couldn’t manage a smile for the man, but he did lean ever so slightly into his delicate touch, his eyes fluttering closed and a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I know … It’s just that I have reservations when it comes to this line of work.” He knew that the excuse wouldn’t fly, that it didn’t matter if he had reservations because it was the only thing he was good at, the only thing he could do to bring in some sort of income. When he’d first arrived at the Tiger’s Den he’d hoped to become Isaac’s personal pet, but while the man did play favorites he only seemed to allow himself to do so behind closed doors.<br/><br/>Marco had learned of the jealousy that ran rampant through the boy’s in the whore house, he knew that they disliked him for the fact that Isaac did choose to warm his bed on a fairly frequent basis in comparison to his other little admirers. He had no friends amongst his colleagues, but he didn’t necessarily have any enemies either. Were he to grow closer to Isaac than he already was he was sure he would make some, however, so he kept a reasonable distance, took on a pair of other clients, and lived off of what meager ends he made from his little trio of men. His housing was free, as a result of his employment at the brothel, and he could occasionally snag a meal from the kitchens without paying as well as the men and women who worked in the back were quite fond of the little englishman. He didn’t need much else, aside from cigarettes and booze, and so he was living well enough in his opinion, as well as he needed or deserved anyways.<br/><br/>His eyes snapped open only once Isaac’s gently touch was wrenched away from him. He watched closely as he moved over to the window and threw it open, and he immediately pulled his blankets around his frail body a bit tighter, wincing against the cool breeze that flushed into the room, cutting through the thick haze like a knife through butter. He perked up ever so slightly from his little bundle as it was brought up why he was being woken. Perhaps Isaac wished to use him this morning? No. Isaac wished to sell him this morning. His face drained of whatever bit of color remained and he quickly averted his eyes from the man as his gut began to roil at the prospect of meeting someone new. The other boys liked him? He was reputable then, perhaps nothing would go wrong. But what if his coworkers grew jealous at the fact that Marco was seeing one of their favorites? What if one of them were to put this gentleman Isaac spoke of up to harming him? These possibilities and many more began swimming through his head at the prospect of taking on a new client, and he lifting his cigarette to his lips and took an obnoxiously long drag on it to try and sooth his sudden fear.<br/><br/>Then, Isaac commented about his stench.<br/><br/>Marco flushed bright red, hurriedly leaning over and pressing the half smoked cigarette into the filled up ashtray. Marco stripped just a bit as he did so and then he moved on to close the space between them once again, reaching down to take a hold of his boy’s hands and draw him upwards gently. He stood without complaint, though his gaze remained averted until Isaac gripped his chin and lifted it slowly. Again, he complied without complaint. “I … I suppose. I know you like my hair curled, so if you believe this man will like it to then we should go ahead and do it,” he agreed in a hushed, breathy tone, his lips remaining parted ever so slightly as he stared up at the beautiful man before him. “No bubbles. If I have somebody waiting for me then we mustn't waste any time.” He pulled from Isaac’s grasp, then, turning back towards the couch and shucking off his blankets to reveal the naked body beneath them. His pale skin was peppered with goosebumps from the chill that had entered the room through the open window. He shuffled across the room once he was bare, pulling open the fridge that sat in the corner and drawing out a small bowl of sugared strawberries that one of the chef’s in the kitchen had prepared for him a few nights prior.<br/><br/>As Isaac prepared his bath the boy busied himself with eating a few slices of the overly sweet fruit and attempting to sip away at a bottle of water. He moved into the bathroom a few minutes after the other had retreated there, sighing heavily as he gazed at the gradually filling tub. The housing within the Tiger’s Den was better than anything Marco himself had ever experienced in a brothel, and he’d worked at a handful since he’d first found himself living on his own. The lodgings were clean, and offered everything one could wish for in a little one person apartment setting. They weren’t necessarily expansive, but it wasn’t as though Marco needed excessive amounts of space, he was a rather small man. He moved to Isaac’s side, gazing down at the disturbed tub of water before carefully slipping one foot in, reaching up to grip the larger man’s shoulder to steady himself as he did so.<br/><br/>“Now, is there a reason you’re coercing me into taking on another client? You know I don’t fancy allowing too many men to fuck me at the same time,” he murmured curiously as he slipped down into the lukewarm water. A soft breath slipped from between his lips as he nestled down into the comfortably warm bath, his eyes closing momentarily as his fingers curled into the edges of the porcelain tub.