Normally all it takes is their immediate reaction upon seeing me at their door for me to be able to guess what kind of weekend I'd have. If they're unsure or regretting their decision, it usually shows in that moment, even if they try to hide it. When that happens, I'd cringe on the inside knowing that I'd have an uncomfortable or just plain boring weekend. They'd not know what to do with me, but they'd already paid half in advance, so they usually at least try to get their money's worth.
Thankfully the man who answered the door was grinning in a very friendly, very
normal
way. Nothing serious had happened since I started this job, but I've been purchased by some people who were at least a touch creepy. They never did anything, though, so I had to be professional and hide my discomfort. This guy, Ian (all names mentioned except for mine are fake), seemed normal and enthusiastic.
"Hey, Tristan!" He immediately held out his arms and I accepted his invitation, giving him a big hug. He was taller and bigger than me, so I was wrapped up in his arms. He held me for a minute or so before pulling back and ruffling my hair.
"Good boy," he said affectionately.
He was in his mid-twenties, older than me. He was extremely normal in appearance: brown hair, green eyes, short hair and beard. He had an average height and weight. I tended to like the normal ones better than the wild cards.
"I was planning on watching Netflix tonight, bring over some friends."
The fact that he was okay with his friends seeing me meant he was either not self-conscious at all or had done this type of thing before.
"That's fine by me, sir."
"You cut that 'sir' business out right now, Tristan. My name is Ian."
"Sorry, Ian."
He led me to the den where his Netflix was already queued up. He sat on the couch and patted the spot right in front of him.
I sat down and leaned back into his chest as he wrapped his arms around me, firmly but not tightly. He gave me a little peck on the cheek. I responded by rubbing my face against his neck. Most people are not used to nuzzling, so I'm used to a wide range of reactions. His was to make that "aw" face that people make when they see something they find so cute their brain can't comprehend it. He ruffled my hair again and kissed the tip of my nose.
"What do you plan on watching?" I asked.
"Right now, some Bojack Horseman, but me and my friends are going to start watching Stranger Things tonight."
He read my expression correctly and smiled sheepishly. "Yes, I know we're at least a decade late, but late is better than never."
"You watch whatever you want. I won't be paying close attention, anyway."
I was sure that I had already seen about a dozen episodes of Stranger Things during various jobs, but I wouldn't be able to say much about the stories or characters. I'd be preoccupied with doing my job the whole time it would be playing.
I nuzzled into his chest some and listened to his heartbeat.
"You're really warm, Ian."
"Oh, is it uncomfortable?"
"No, it's nice."
He kissed the crown of my head before playing the first episode of Bojack Horseman.
*****
I had arrived at about 5:30 PM, and his friends started trickling into his apartment around 7.
The first guy just shook his head and smiled when he saw me.
"Holy shit, I can't believe you actually did it, Ian. I was seriously hoping you were joking."
"Dude, the kid's right there." Ian's eyes flitted towards me.
"He's just doing his job. You're the one I'm worried about. You need a girlfriend. Or at least a dog."
"It's not quite as simple as that. And this building doesn't allow pets."
He walked up to me and held out his hand for me to shake.
"I'm Brad," he said. "If he tries anything, let me know."
"I'm Tristan. And there's always pepper spray in my pocket."
"What are you implying?" Ian asked in mock indignation.
"Hopefully absolutely nothing," Brad answered, giving me a wink.
He and Ian talked over some beers and the rest of his friends came in about fifteen minutes later. They were a young couple around their age and a girl around my age. They brought pizza and more alcohol. Ian had to address the obvious, since none of them knew who I was or why I was there.
"Okay," he said loudly. "This is Tristan." He put his arm around my shoulder. "He's a professional cuddler I've bought for the weekend."
The man from the couple held up his hand in a
stop
gesture.
"Time out. That's a thing?"
"Yes, and he's been at it for years now," Ian answered. "I expect everybody to be cordial. Judge me if you want, but show some respect to him."
"Ignore me. Just pretend I'm a pet or something," I offered. The younger girl patted me on the head and giggled.
"I'll share him if you ask nicely, but only if I feel like it. I paid good money for him and I intend to make it worth it." He gave me another big hug and I nuzzled him.
We spent the evening watching Stranger Things, eating pizza, and getting drunk. They got drunk, at least. I hate alcohol. I was also 20 at the time, but the girl hanging out with them, who I found out was the little sister of the woman in the couple, was probably underage as well, so I didn't mention that. I'd gotten pretty good at not being judgmental in my years as a cuddle-for-rent.
They gave me pizza and some soda, but I did my best to not be obtrusive, speaking only when spoken to. Sometimes the guests of people who bought me did their damndest to pretend I didn't exist, but often I'd just be asked an endless litany of questions I had answered dozens of times in the past already. I got a few of them from Ian's friends.
"Do you actually make a living from this?" Brad asked.
I swallowed my pizza. "No. I'm in college now, and this is something I do on the weekends."
Ian was a little surprised by that. "Your website and contract looked professional to me."
I shrugged. "I've been at this since freshman year. I just know what I'm doing by now." I was on his lap again and leaned into his shoulders.
I got the one question I always got from the woman in the couple.
"Not to be rude, but doesn't it get weird sometimes, cuddling with strangers?"
"Not really. I just like cuddling, and I can be of use to others who feel the same way." I took a sip of my Dr. Pepper before answering the actual meat of that question. "I'm asexual anyway. I don't get off on it or anything, and all the things my clients can and can't do are laid out in the contract."
"That contract is legit, too. He's been around." Ian added.
"Can we see it?" the college girl asked.
Ian looked at me. "Can they?"
I nodded.
"I admit I'm interested," said Brad. "But let's wait until the episode ends at least."
The four others looked at the contract, which essentially laid out in specific detail that I would behave myself and the client would be expected to do the same. Only one part surprised them, the man from the couple pointing it out.
"It says that 'brief close-mouthed kisses placed on Tristan from the jaw up are permitted.' Isn't that a bit sexual?"
"I don't really think so." I said. "I like to think it's not if it's something a normal person would do to like a dog or a cat." I realized then that while Ian had been fine kissing me when we were alone, he hadn't done it once since his friends had gotten there. I guess he was slightly shyer than I thought.
The evening was enjoyable. The binge-watching lasted almost four hours. More pizza got ordered and more alcohol was consumed. I was working, but if I wasn't it would have been a fine way to spend a Friday night.
Most of the time I was with Ian, but I was shared occasionally. I spent half an episode being the big spoon to the college girl on the floor. Her older sister let me rest my head in her lap for a bit.
After a few beers, the two other guys teased Ian about him not kissing me.