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| From Towleroad |
“Yeah. But you get the point. And you know, I wonder how many marriages in my own family, going back over the centuries were because one side or the other had money? It's a kind of whoring.”
“No, not really,” said Keith quietly. “Believe me. First off, maybe they grew to love each other. Even arranged marriages sometimes work. But … I had to go out every night to find a guy who wanted to root me. Every night. And some of them were … horrible. Horrible.” He looked away. “They thought because they were payin', they owned my soul. Somehow … somehow they felt they could be as cruel to me as they wanted. And so many of them insisted they do it bareback. They thought they wouldn't catch the big A if they topped.” He stopped again and swallowed, and shook his head. “Ya know what? The blokes who were kindest to me were the married older half-straight and closeted men. They used to thank me. They always told me how handsome I was, how attractive. Some of them wanted to see me again. They were kind. They treated me like a regular bloke. They would talk about the footy. Stuff like that.”
“What happened?” Luigi was leaning against the kitchen counter, and once more Jason admired his body, his beauty.
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