"By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest."
-Confucius

It was so fucking cold, he could see his breath.  The puff of frigid air, almost crystallized before him.  It was going to be one of those brutal nights.  Once the harsh winter weather settled upon New York, nights like this were a regular occurrence.  

Since Justin already knew from past experience, that he wouldn't get lodging at a shelter, he hoofed the twelve long, agonizing blocks to Grand Central Station.  By the time Justin had reached his destination, his feet and fingers were so frozen, that they burned.  He huddled gratefully on a bench until the pain subsided, and the warmth slowly returned to each digit.  "Shit!"  His life really sucked. 

Justin was all of eighteen years old, and had been a vagabond for slightly over a year now.  Returning home was not an option.  It never was.  His dear old dad had tossed him out of the house when he found out Justin was gay, while his mother sheepishly stood by.  He'd never forget the pathetic tears that streamed down her face, as she watched her husband angrily denounce him as their son.  But he hadn't expected his mother to come to his rescue.  He knew she was too afraid of incurring Craig's wrath. 

Justin's sole regret was leaving his sister behind, but he figured she'd be okay.  His father had never laid a hand on her.  Justin had been the one Craig chose to unleash most of his twisted anger upon.  Molly was their father's pride and joy.  Although he missed his younger sibling, he wouldn't dare risk contacting her.  He had seen the devil in his old man's eyes that night, and knew he had been lucky to escape with his life. 

In a strange way, Justin was proud of himself.  He had managed to allude the police, and the do gooders who wanted to put him in a foster home.  Justin subsisted by drawing portraits of people in the park, charging ten to twenty bucks, depending on how wealthy the person appeared to be.  He enjoyed doing it, and had always been told he had a natural talent. Most of the time Justin made enough money to eat, and buy a few second hand articles of clothing here and there.  He would stay at the local shelters, often shuttling back and forth between them.  Everything he owned, he carried around in his backpack. 

Last winter, Justin had saved enough money to survive those few miserable months, barely making it through.  But this winter had started early, and his money was almost all gone.  Since he couldn't practice his trade to replenish his dwindling stash, in his desperation, he turned to hustling.  It's not something Justin was proud of, and he certainly didn't do it frequently.  It was only for those particularly low moments, when he had absolutely no other choice. 

Justin was utterly perplexed at how much some men were willing to dole out for a blow job, or a hand job from a fresh faced twink.  That's why he was fortunate, and didn't have to trick very often.  The money he earned would last for days, sometimes weeks.  Although he hadn't given up on his dream to some day go to college and study art, surviving the stark winter was his main concern right now.   

Brian Kinney was a successful businessman at the surprisingly young age of thirty.  He had accomplished a great deal since his graduation from college.  He was the proud owner of an extravagant loft, where he resided in glorious Pittsburgh.  Brian had also embarked on a business venture about a year ago, starting an advertising agency, which was thriving.  He was currently in New York, for an important business meeting.

After his hectic day, Brian was in the mood for a relaxing blow job.  He was about to make his way into Barracuda, a popular gay nightclub, when he spotted a young man shivering in the alleyway.  His long blond hair fell carelessly over his eyes, and his cheeks were bright red.  The kid wore a worn jacket with the collar raised, which apparently did little to spare him from the brisk wind.  Brian knew he should mind his own business, but something made him go over to the lad. 

"Hey."

"Hey.  You looking for a good time tonight?" Justin asked through chattering teeth.

Brian was initially startled at the proposition, but sadly, he had been approached by hustlers before.  He should have turned the kid down, and gone into the nearby building like he planned, but he didn't.  Instead, he nodded, and said, "Sure, let's get out of here."  

Hailing a taxi, Brian instructed the driver to take them to the Waldorf Astoria, which was the hotel where he was staying.  He eyed the kid curiously during the ride there.  There was a youthful innocence about him, and Brian surmised that he couldn't be more than eighteen.  At least he had gotten the lad out of the cold, which oddly made him feel relieved. 

The man sitting beside Justin had chestnut brown hair, and the most amazing hazel eyes.  The young man smirked to himself as he thought, his tricking tonight might not be such a chore.  He experienced a delicious tingling sensation, and felt that there was something special and different about this stranger.

Brian always traveled in style.  Cynthia, his assistant was well aware of that fact.  She had booked him a suite at one of the finest hotels in New York.  The golden haired kid gaped in wonder at the luxurious accommodations, and Brian wasn't quite certain what he was going to do with him. 

"Sit down, make yourself comfortable."

Justin quickly shed his coat, and placed it along with his backpack on a chair.  'Damn, this place was spectacular.'  As an artist, he truly appreciated the splendor of the art deco embellishments.  This man must be loaded to afford a room like this.  He was going to have to demand at least a hundred dollars for his services. 

Brian removed his own coat, and walked to the bar to pour himself a drink.

"My name's, Brian...Brian Kinney.  And you are?"

Justin immediately responded the way he always did.  "Just call me Sunshine."  He had learned a long time ago never to provide his given name. 

"Sunshine?"

"Yeah, that's what everybody calls me."

Brian arched his eyebrows inquisitively.

Justin explained further, "When I moved here, since I had blond hair, and a big smile, people started to refer to me as Sunshine."

"How sweet," Brian sarcastically quipped.  "How old are you anyway?"

"Old enough," Justin answered.  He was beginning to get annoyed.  "Well, shall we get to it?"

"Actually I have no idea why I brought you here.  Frankly, I've never had to pay to get my rocks off, and I have no intention of starting now."

"Fuck, I knew you weren't for real.  I'm outta here!"  Justin began to rise off the couch.

With one swift long stride, Brian reached Justin, and grasping him by the shoulders, pushed him back down onto the couch. 

"You're not going anywhere.  It's fucking freezing out there."

"Yeah and...?"

"I'll give you $200 to stay the night."

Justin furrowed his brows.  "You want to pay me $200 to stay overnight, but you don't want to fuck me?"

"That's right.  I just want to sit here and enjoy your witty repartee.  Fucking you is the farthest thing from my mind."

This had to be the weirdest proposition Justin had ever had, but he considered it thoughtfully. 

"And you won't try to kill me in my sleep?"

Brian let out an amused laugh.  "No, in fact I'll sleep on the bed, you can have this plush sofa."

Justin stared at the man for a few seconds, suspicious of his motivations.  Then he relented, "Okay, I'll stay.  But only if you give me the money up front."

Brian took out his wallet, and retrieved two crisp hundred dollar bills.  As he handed it to the leery boy he thought, 'this is going to be a first'.  He was actually bribing someone to stay the night, and without any fucking going on!  'What on earth had gotten into him?'