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Klaus sees them out of the corner of his eye. They're a cluster of gangly limbs and combat boots, two of them having bright fiery red hair that looks like a bad dye job. One carries a backpack covered in a rainbow array of pins, and Klaus knows who these kids are.
Ben spots them as well, tilting his head at them. "They have no clue what they're doing," he commented.
Klaus hummed in agreement. His hands, never idle, ruffle at his hair and run themselves down his legs, encased in leather. He's draped against a cold brick wall, the only source of light coming from passing cars and the butts of cigarettes from the other people around him. Women and men showing off their body in scrapped, bedazzled fabric. More are joining and more cars are pulling up; down the street, the usual crowd from the strip club are making their way over.
This is one of the safer spots if you want to sell your body. Considering how it was closer to a club that had several bouncers, Klaus or someone else could duck in there if a creep gets too touchy or the cops pull up on them. It's also near a Panera Bread where some of the workers hand them loaves of bread or even a whole sandwich, sympathy in their hearts. Great kids.
These kids, on the other hand, look lost as hell. Klaus can tell they tried to make themselves look more appealing with the red lipstick and smoky eyeshadow. "Amateurs," he tells Ben and they both share a dark smile.
One of the kids, however, must have insane hearing. She whips her head around, red lips pinned down into a smile. "What the hell you said?" she asks, voice brash. She's wearing a short leather skirt and a tight red crop top, but the high tops make her seem even younger. The rest of the group eyes Klaus warily.
Klaus just smiles at them, almost cooing. "You guys," he said slowly, pushing off from the wall and making his way over. "Are amateurs. Anyone can tell you tater tots are skipping class. What, night school got boring in Mr. Smith's class?"
One of the boys startles. "How the fuck do you know about Mr. Smith?"
"Holy shit, you were right?" said Ben, looking surprised. "I know you guessed that."
Klaus waves a hand, both through Ben's face and at the boy's shock. "I know every man in this city, and they know me very well. My point being, I know a couple of baby gays when I see them. But, fear not!" he exclaimed, raising his HELLO hand up in greeting. "You're with the flock."
The group of four keeps staring and then looks around. Maybe they're noticing how some of the people around them clearly look queer as hell because they lose the hostility. The first girl who spoke, blonde hair shining, still looks cautious.
"Someone told us if we wanted to make money, this would be the best spot," she said.
Klaus grinned. "It sure is. If you walk past the club, you will find a lovely shelter. They actually have good hard pillows for your backs and everything."
"We overstayed there," said one of the red heads, grimacing. "No one told us about the limit. You can't judge us and call us amateurs. Maybe try helping us out so we can get enough money for-I don't know, a hotel room-"
"Looking like the Rugrats will not help you get money," Klaus says as he spins in a circle, gesturing around. "This spot for the workers is known for its finance guys and golf dads, and the occasionally senator trying to blow off steam. Sometimes, the ladies come to 'cause they need a surprise for a bachelorette party. Better than the south side."
"Way better than the south side," mutters Ben, a dark look growing on his face. On his most desperate days, Klaus did find himself on the south side and every night ended with him bleeding. Despite what he was seeing, Ben never left his brother. He stayed with him until the shaking stopped and he could stand for another day. It was also the spot where so many people just disappeared. Klaus must have some kind of fucked-up luck to not be kidnapped or trafficked.
A car suddenly appears, as silent as a creature of prey. Klaus is hyper aware of the two men sitting there-he can tell they sprayed on too much Calvin Klein cologne and that they've gotten soft after the 9-5. He feels a sting of anger for their wives, who no doubt toil the day away tending to the house while their husbands betray them.
The man in the passenger seat sticks his head out, eyes locked on Klaus and the group of kids. "How much?" he demands more than asks, eyes locked on the tall blonde.
Klaus feels his heart drop. Ben curses and stands suddenly in front of the man, drawn to his full height. "Fucking sicko," he spat out, brimming with disgust and fury.
Of course, only Klaus can see this. And he also sees how the group of kids shrink away slightly before slumping, a collective defeat. The tall blonde sets her jaw as if to look tough, and it reminds him so much of Luther it punches him in the chest. He sees her hands shake and remembers his first night letting a stranger fuck him for a twenty. All because Klaus just wanted some soup. That memory haunts him almost as bad as the ghosts that linger on the border of his vision.
Klaus is moving quickly, almost stumbling on his high heels into the blondie as he sashays over to the car. The men turn their attention to his leather pants and thin tank top, and his skinny form. Klaus hopes he hides the kids behind him.
"For you, handsome," Klaus purrs out, smiling cheekily. "Its free if you let me have a ride in this." Thats an old trick that wins every time - complimenting their car or something always helps.
The man smiles with eyes only on Klaus and-good, good. Anything to make sure those kids don't go down the path Klaus walks on. Anything to make sure that girl doesn't force herself to look strong. If he can try to be a hero one last time, hopefully it's in this moment.
Klaus gets into the car. He doesn't need to look over at the kids to know they're counting the small money he slipped into the blonde girl's hand. And he doesn't feel relaxed until Ben informs him that, yes, they did stay at a hotel that night.
A rather large comfort for such a cold night. Klaus clings onto that even as a large hand gropes at his upper leg, and he forces his cheeks to pull up and smile.