El Tango de Frank Iero

It was a slow night for Frank Anthony Iero, more infamously known as Frankie, on the unsafe streets of Belleville, New Jersey. Then again it was a Monday and most of his clients were with their wives, girlfriends, kids,etc.

Closet gays, Frank's boss likes to refer to them as.

With a half finished Marlboro cigarette close to falling dangerously out of half parted lips he walked up to another employee and friend that was sauntering himself in skin tight indigo pants and a silk button up blouse.

"Hey Frankie. Any work yet?" asked the blonde haired boy, looking no older then eighteen with eyes the color of tree bark. They looked tired. They looked worn. They looked used.

"Nah, not yet Angel. You?" His name fit his look.

The boy named Angel flicked a piece of imaginary lint off his pants while he spoke, "Yeah. I got a real asshole. He was into the most kinkiest shit. But I got seven fifty offa him, so its chill."

"Cool, boss' gonna be real happy about that," Frank replied. Both boys had thick Jersey accents that rolled off their tongue and circled around them.

This was their life. However, this was not chosen. But when life gives you lemons you got to try to make lemonade, right? Unfortunately, the two were nowhere near lemonade.

"Hey, look. Here's one now," Angel piped up as he pointed to a silver Nissan heading up the street. It slowed down as the driver got closer to the two boys standing in Parker Territory, Parker being their boss and territory being where there would only be people dressed like them at this time of night.

The driver pulled down their tinted black window which gave Frank goosebumbs and left Angel apathetic.

He had thick, dark black hair up to his shoulders and pale, transluscent skin. Brown eyes with a green tint. And a cheeky smile that wasn't smiling.

He only takes only a quick glance at Angel and then his eyes rest on Frank.

Frank's small frame. Frank's hazel eyes. Frank's tight pants.

He opened the passenger side door.

Angel made a move that he was about to get in.

"No, not you. You," he said in a low voice as he looked at Frank.

Angel took a step back and almost looked embarrassed - almost.

Frank gave Angel a nod, code for after this little rendez-vous he was about to have that they should meet up at the local donut shop and hang out before they go their separate ways and meet again for the next night.

Routine.

Angel gave him a small smile.

"Buckle up."