Request from @ConsultingFangirl_ 

+28: Every You Every Me - Placebo 

You guys give me such happy songs... Warnings: Depression, reference to self harm, prostitution from a young age and reference to homophobia. 

-

Jim lays in his bed, staring up at his ceiling. He's completely bare and lays on top of the covers, trying desperately to not let the tears in the corners of his eyes spill. He can't allowed that. He choose this life.Even if he could blame it on his parents for kicking him out of the house when he came out to them, he knows that he didn't have to go down this route for food and money. 

At just sixteen and with no qualifications, Jim wasn't going to be hired. That was a fact. He looked messy, was very young and had a criminal record - even McDonalds had better people they could employ. 

It left Jim with little choice. He tried to steal the food he needed and still did that eight out of ten times but that still left him with no where to live. Selling himself was the only answer. It provided enough money and he could work for himself on his own time. He started selling his body when he was seventeen, just turned. 

After a year, he'd built a fair number of clients. Six regulars and then he usually had about two randoms a week. It could be worse. None of them were too mean... Well, no. Some of them were absolutely horrid but they didn't physically hurt Jim so, yeah, it could be much worse. 

Sighing, Jim rolled on to his side. His right arm hangs of the side of his bed and he winces at the sight of the ugly scars there before he tucks his arm against his stomach so he doesn't have to look at it. None of the clients were physically abuses towards him but that didn't stop him punishing himself...

He wishes he were able to go home and tell his parents he's straight. Maybe they'd welcome him back into their home. He's not straight, though. He knew that.. but they don't have to. He can be their happy, straight son that dies alone with about fifty cats. 

Another sigh leaves Jim's lips before he stands up. How many times a day did he have that exact line of thoughts? Too many, was the answer. 

He makes quick work of removing all sheets from the bed. The man that just left his flat was his last client for today and so now he could change the sheets to clean ones. He'd probably take the next day off, he usually did on Wednesdays. 

 He gave himself Wednesday's and one Monday a month off. That meant that he avoided having sex with more than two people per day. 

Jim shakes his head before heading down to the laundry room the building shared. 

* 

"What?!" Jim yells as the landlord pushes him out of the building.

"We got a strict no drugs policy here, Mr Moriarty" He says.

"Oh, fuck off. You did not find drugs in my flat and you know it! On top of that, you're not meant to go in my flat without my consent unless you think I'm dead inside!"

None of what Jim says stop the man from shoving him out of the building. Two sercurity guards come and give Jim a box and a duffle bag. It's all the stuff he brought with him from his parents home. THey look guilty, as if they know exactly what's just happened. And they probably do, because they're the people that would be sent in to find the drugs. They all knew that Jim didn't have drugs,

Instead of causing any more of a fuss, though, Jim simply grabs the duffle bag full of clothes and picks up the box. He always kept his wallet on him so he kasknew that there was no chance of the landlord (bastard) stealing anything of value.

With a sigh, Jim digs his mobile out of his pocket. He strolls through his contact and hovers over one name, hesitating.

Did he dare?

Jim bites his lip and presses the green call button before raising it to his ear.

"....Hello?"  asks a confused voice on the other end after three dial tones. 

"Uhh. Hi..." Jim answers, feeling pathetic. He should just hang up. 

"Oh my God. Jim?! What- What the actual hell?! It's been.. years! Where the fuck have you been?" The voice slowly grows angrier and angrier until they're shouting at him. 

"I, uh, mum and dad.. They kicked me out"

"Nearly three years ago?"

"Yeah"

"Why the hell didn't you come to me, then?!" 

"I... I don't know" Jim replies honestly. 

There's a sigh, followed by "Where are you now?" 

"My landlord just threw me out... I..."

"God. You're so awkward. You can't even ask. Yes, you can come stay with me, you idiot. I'll text you the address" 

Jim nods. "Okay. Thanks, Molly"

"You're welcome, idiot. I'll see you soon" She laughs lightly down the line before it goes dead. 

*

 When the door to the flat opens, Jim was expecting to see Molly there but instead he comes face to face with a tall, curly haired, utterly gorgeous boy who's wear a lopsided smirk that falls in to a small frown at the site of Jim. 

Before Jim can say a word, the boy looks over his shoulder into the flat and calls. "Molly! There's a boy at the door. Are you expecting someone?" 

Molly appears within seconds and she flings herself at Jim, laughing and grinning wildly. "Jim! Oh my God, I've missed you."

She pulls back to access him and he can see the worry in her eyes. 

Molly herself is looking well, though. Her hair was a lot longer than Jim remembers and she was wearing it in a way that flattered her face. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes bright and she seemed a perfect weight for her small body. Jim was happy that one of them was doing well. He'd prefer it was her, anyway. Saying that, she probably felt the same about him. 

Molly ushers him in and he sits on the sofa. She stands and the boy that answered the door closes the door before standing beside Molly, a hand falling on her shoulder. 

Was this Molly's boyfriend? 

Molly slaps the boy's hand away. "Stop it, Sherlock. He's not one of my dates for you to scare away" 

Oh. Not boyfriend then. Protective friend. Jim smiles softly, glad Molly had one of those. 

Molly sits beside Jim then, inspecting him further and glances at the box and duffle bag he has with him. She frowns, obviously wodering if this was really all Jim owned. Jim looks away from her, shame filling him. 

"What happened?" She asks. "With your mum and dad"

Jim sighs. "They kicked me out because they're not fond of.. of my sexuality" He can't stop himself from hesitating. 

Molly smiles. "I always knew you were gay." 

Jim glances up at her and smiles back, glad that she didn't really care. He knew that she wasn't the type to care about things like that but it still feel nice to be accepted. 

"I've told you, Molly, you attract us like honey does bees" Sherlock laughs before wondering down a corridor, giving them space. Jim had forgotten he was there, to be honest. 

"Us?" Jim frowns, looking at Molly. "Is he...?"

Molly nods. "Yeah, he is" 

"I see..."

Silence looms for a moment before Molly pulls Jim into a hug. When she pulls back, she stands and yanks him on to his feet too. 

"Sherlock's room is the one right at the end of the corridor. Mine's opposite the loo, here" Molly points to her room as they pass it. "And this one's yours, opposite Sherlock's. All the rooms are small. In the past someone converted a big bedroom into two small one's..." 

Jim's eyes widen. "You're giving me my own room, just like that?"

Molly laughs. "Of course I am. I'm not going to make you sleep on the sofa."

"Uhh. Thank you, Molly. Seriously. Um.. How much is the rent?" 

"Me and Sherlock pay a hundred and fifty each per month. Don't worry about the rent for a bit, though. I'll pay your bit"

Jim hesitates. "I have some.. work. I can pay. I've got at least four hundred saved up and I usually earn about four hundred a week."

Molly looks at him. "What the hell do you work as? A drug dealer?"

Jim shakes his head and shrugs. "It's just a job"

"He's a prostitute"  A voice joins their conversation, making them both jump. 

Jim looks down the corridor to see Sherlock leaning against the door frame of his room. How long has he been there? Jim can't remember seeing or hearing him open the door. It was closed when they started their way down. 

Jim's mind then registers what he's saying and he looks away, down at the floor. Great. Now he's going to be kicked out. 

How the hell did Sherlock know he was a prostitute? Had Jim and him...? Jim looks up at the boy. No. He'd remember him. He remembers most of his customers and Jim had never fucked Sherlock, or been fucked by him .So how the hell...? 

Molly swallows and looks to Jim, who is glaring daggers into Sherlock. "Is that true, Jim?" 

Jim pauses before nodding. 

"If I tell you to quit and look for another job, are you going to listen?" She asks. 

Jim meets her eyes. "Probably not. No where wants to hire me. Not only do I have no qualifications but I have a criminal record" 

Molly sighs and runs a hand down her face. "Job hunt for three months. If you're honestly trying and nothing at all comes up, we'll talk again. Deal?"

Jim nods. Molly wasn't someone to argue with when she took control like this. 

"You said you've got money saved up. Sherlock and I will handle the rent. You handle the food shopping for us three, okay?" 

Jim frowns. "That still leaves you too using more money than me! I can pay a hundred a month and we all chip in for food."

"With three of us, the shoppig will probably come to one hundred a month. Plus you have to physically go get it all. I'd say it's fair" Molly argues. Sherlock nods from where he's stood, agreeing with her. 

Jim sighs and nods. "Fine. Deal" 

*

Despite sort of promising he'd quit, Jim did see all of his regular clients once more. He let them all know it was the last time they'd have their way with him (he lied and said that he was being threatened into leaving) and he managed to get one hundred one of each of them, leaving him six hundred pound up. 

When he got in each night - it didn't feel right to call it 'home' yet - he'd lied to Molly, saying he'd been job hunting all day. It wasn't a complete lie. He had been job hunting for most of the day. Molly seemed oblivious to the lie and if she did smell the scent of sex on Jim before he showered, she didn't say a word. 

When she wasn't looking, Sherlock would often shaking his head at Jim in mock disappointment. Jim flipped him off each time, silently wondering how the hell he knew what Jim was doing.

Was he just guessing? No, he couldn't be. He only shook his head at Jim on the days he'd been with a client. There must be some way he can tell. Jim's body language, maybe. Something. 

Jim sighs as he watched Sherlock shake his head. For the last time, though. Jim had give his last client a goodbye fuck. He was done. 

As Jim climbs in to the shower, he smiles to himself. With luck, he'd find some crappy job and not have to ever has sex with anyone for money again. He washes away the feeling of being used for the last time and when he steps out the shower, he feels better than he had for a long time. 

He looks down at his scarred arms and doesn't frown. He's not going to add to them. From now on, he's going to actually live and make the most of his life. That's a promise to himself. 

When Jim opens the door to the bathroom, Sherlock is standing there and Jim almost walks into him but steps back at just the right time. He raises an eyebrow at the other, trying not to admire the other boy's perfect skin and face and hair and every thing else. 

"Need something?" Jim asks. 

Despite having lived together for two weeks, they hadn't spoken to each other much. 

"How many more to do you have to say 'goodbye' to?" Sherlock asks, getting straight to the point.

Jim doesn't ask about how he knows that. "None. I'm done" 

Sherlock nods. "All right. If you come in and I can tell you've sold youtself again, I won't hesitate to tell Molly"

Jim raises an eyebrow. "How can you tell anyway?"

"The way you walk, heavy with shame. Also, the way you smile and almost nervously greet Molly" 

Jim nods, as if he understood. "Right..."

Sherlock's aura changes then. The seriousness leaks away and he flashes a charming smile at Jim. "Anyway.. Moving on to more important things" 

Jim raises an eyebrow, confused. Sherlock leans forward, one arm resting on the doorframe. Jim;s breathing hitches, not used to having attractive boys this close. Especially not while all he has around him is a towel. 

"Are you single?" Sherlock asks, eyes flickering over Jim's face.

 Jim's face exploded with colour and he nods.

Sherlock smiles and presses his lips to the corner of Jim's mouth. "Good. Keep it that way" and with that he disappears down the corridor and into his room. Jim watched in shock for a few seconds before shaking himself and heading to his own room, ignoring the way his lips tingled.

*

Jim does manage to get a job. Minimum wage with long hours, five days a week but seeing as he wasn't in education like Sherlock and Molly that didn't really matter. He got Wednesday off and Sundays. He liked that he got Wednesday's off because that lined up with his old routine. It wasn't anything special, of course, just working in a local shop. 

The three of them order Chinese food and buy some vodka and a bottle of coke as a way to celebrate. Molly also finally let's Jim pay his part of the rent. 

It's a Tuesday when they celebrated so Jim could stay up late without trouble. So could Sherlock but Molly had to head to bed early as she had classes tomorrow. The boys say goodnight to her and continue to drink and eat.

"Why'd you kiss me the other week?" Jim asks Sherlock when they're alone, raising an eyebrow and slurring a little. 

Sherlock shrugs, making Jim huff. Jim sets his food down and crawls over to Sherlock, climbing on his lap. "Is it because you think I'm a slut? An easy fuck?"

Sherlock shakes his head and pokes Jim's nose. "No. I think you're cute" 

Jim frowns at that. "Oh" 

Sherlock laughs at him so Jim tugs him closer by his collar, kisses him and then climbs off him, returning to his food. Sherlock starts to laugh again and so Jim just rolls his eyes and takes his food to his food. He ends up leaving it on the side and just collaspig on to his end. 

The next moring when Sherlock greets him with a kiss and a cup of coffee without laughing his arse off, Jim smiles to himself.