Room 227 [Saturday Morning]

"Ugh," Street mutters as he blinks himself awake. Last night is pretty much a blur- he remembers getting in the limo, and then the drinks. Way, way too many drinks, and then the hotel room. And he *knows* better than to drink when he's doing a job, but it's not like anyone with real, honest-to-god *money* like this guy had had ever picked him up before.

Shuffling out of bed, he fumbles on the floor for his jeans, double-checking the pockets to make sure the wad of bills he'd been handed the night before was still there.

It wasn't.

"Oh, son of a BITCH!" he snarls, hurling the pants across the room as if it was their fault. And then walking over and picking them up because he kind of needs them. He gets dressed as quickly as he can and then storms out of the hotel room, slamming the door shut behind him.

[ooc: Bridge is, yes, a street hustler calling himself, well, Street. Establishy, since he's left the building and I'm off to work!]

Room 227 [Late Saturday Night]

The distinct lack of any paying customers had finally made itself apparent to both Street and Peter, which is why they head back to the building they'd woken up in this morning. Which, Street had discovered, was not a hotel after all, but rather a dorm. Finding the room he'd woken up in unoccupied, Street tugs Peter in and then locks the door.

Whoever this room belonged to would just have to deal. Because if he can't get paid tonight, he might as well have a little fun.

[ooc: for once_a_king]