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fellowshippers2006-02-23 01:08 pm
i-o-r-h-a-e-l.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-02-23 01:08 pm
Fic: A Boy at the Cafe (1/2)
Title: A Boy at the Cafe (1/2)
Summary: Elijah was Jake's father's pet. But now the man has passed away and Jake's brothers want to decide who Elijah's new master will be.
Pairing: Elijah Wood/Jake Gyllenhaal
Rating: R
Warning: dark themes
AN: beta by [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
A Boy at the Café
Jake stuck his nose into the pages of the book he was – no, he was not reading. It was just an excuse so he did not have to see those men in black suits sent to fetch him. Well, snatch him was more like it, for that was exactly what they had done by asking Jake’s lecturer to allow them to meet him. But once Jake set foot outside the classroom, he was immediately grabbed and taken to his parents’ limo waiting outside. Only after he was tucked safely inside did the men spill the news. Jake’s father had passed away the day before and they were supposed to bring him home for the funeral.
Nothing prepared Jake for such terrible news, not that he felt gravely sad about it. His father had never thought this one son existed. Gyllenhaal Sr.’s silence regarding the decline of his health spoke more loudly than any words, thus Jake felt quite surprised that now he was summoned home. He certainly didn’t think his big brothers, Craig, Seth, and Aaron, still deemed him important. A mother’s darling, that was what they called him, which Jake never attempted to rebuff. After all, he preferred going home to her much skimpier dwelling.
Someone cleared his throat and said, “We’re here, Master Jake.”
Jake blinked and immediately looked away, out the filmed window of the limo as it glided smoothly down the driveway leading to the main door. Jake then entered the eminent lawyer’s mansion on Hollywood Hill. Thanks to those over the top actors and actresses, Jake’s father could afford all the luxuries.
“They are waiting for you in the library.” Again, one of the bodyguards interrupted the young man’s train of thought.
Jake glared at him. One of these days he would have a heart attack if they kept doing that. He wasted no time, though, wanting nothing but to finish whatever needed to be discussed with his brothers. Then he would flee to his mother’s house and only return for the funeral.
Jake’s eldest brother, Craig, opened the door. His eyes were red from crying as he literally threw himself into Jake’s arms. Jake scrunched his nose, hiding nothing of his repugnance toward his brother’s exaggerated act. He knew how his brother was, and to believe him genuinely grieving over their father’s passing away? Never, under any circumstances. And what did he expect – to have Jake share his feelings? If so, he must have been the most dim-witted person on earth. Or simply ignorant.
“Come on,” Jake pushed Craig away from him. “What’s up? Why did you insist I have to come here?”
Craig sighed, apparently still putting on an act, squeezing his brother’s elbow and escorting him inside. He also feigned confusion.
“Ah, Jake. You know… it’s all about father’s will and such.”
“I’ll take whatever I get,” snapped Jake. “Or whatever I don’t get. In fact, I’ll gladly throw away everything he decided to give me. I swear it. You should’ve just given me a call.” He shot an accusing look. “You know he hated me and never wanted me around. Well, the feeling is mutual.”
“Don’t be too hasty,” Craig said in a low voice as he shoved the heavy library door closed. “You’ll change your mind once you see this.”
“Wha--”
Never in his life did Jake feel the way he was feeling now. His body froze, almost to paralysis as he caught sight of –
A young man, much younger than himself, knelt in the middle of the library. The man was naked but for two loincloths covering his crotch and arse. His hands were bound behind his back and his head was bent low. His skin was very pale, so pale that Jake could see the blood running through his veins.
Jake did not realize he was speaking, not even registering his shaky voice. “What’s the meaning of this? Who is he?”
One by one his other brothers, Seth and Aaron, rose from the couch where they had been sitting comfortably.
“Why, Jake? Don’t you feel yourself stir at this sight?” Seth laughed a little, nodding toward the young man. “Can’t you see? Father loved us so much he left his precious thing to us? Can’t you see why we loved him so much?”
“What do you mean, his precious thing?” Jake fought the urge to spill everything he had had for breakfast. He groped blindly sideways, grateful as he clutched the wooden slab of the nearest bookshelf.
“Yeah. Father’s precious thing. You know how generous he was--”
No, I don’t, thought Jake.
“--and how he always wanted to share what he had,” Aaron almost purred. “But not this!” He seized a handful of the young man’s hair and jerked it back.
Jake gasped at the porcelain-smooth column of exposed neck, and was even more stunned at the now revealed pools of blue eyes. He swore he could see a spark of apprehension there but it was soon hidden behind clouds of indifference and – even – defiance.
“Father would allow no one to touch even a breadth of his hair,” Aaron continued. “He was kept constantly in father’s room, all day and all night. He ate, showered, slept, pleasured father, you name it, inside.”
Perhaps that explained why the boy was so pale, Jake mused. Somehow he felt as if he were being lulled – or even hypnotized – by the intense gaze the boy was giving him, before he forced himself to wrench his eyes away and again face Craig, who had been talking without Jake even realizing.
“…and now we must decide who will get this slave,” Craig blurted out, and Jake almost choked at the word slave. “Father didn’t say anything about him in his will, which is totally understandable…” Jake heard someone snicker, probably Seth. “So, yeah. Well. Like I said, we should decide among us who he will go to. Who will be his new master.”
Jake could not take it anymore.
“I’m out of here,” he muttered, his face turning green, his head spinning. “I don’t wanna take part in any of this. You all disgust me.” But something pulled him, making him check the young man again, and Jake halted. Still in Aaron’s clutches, the boy now openly – pleaded with him? Jake could see his fear clearly and now it stayed in his eyes. And Jake immediately knew he could not just walk away.
He turned to Craig angrily, “All right but let me take him first, before we decide.”
*
The inert figure was seated at the foot of his bed.
“What’s your name?” asked Jake in a cold tone. He glanced briefly at the boy as he unpacked his duffel bag and plunked his clothes carelessly into the drawers. They were now in his old bedroom, which had not changed since Jake left two years ago to stay at the university dorm. He hadn’t been back since then, preferring his mother’s house for holidays.
Jake could only catch –Jah coming from the boy’s mouth and he leaned forward. “Come again?” He frowned. Had this boy not been allowed to talk at all? Was it so strenuous for him simply to say his name? Then Jake heard it, absurdly, softly uttered by that beautifully curved mouth.
“Elijah.”
Jake’s heart fluttered without knowing why. Then he nodded a little, crossing his arms around his chest, fully confronting the young man.
“So. Elijah. What a charming name.” He watched Elijah closely, making the boy squirm in his seat.
Jake had freed him from his bonds once they got to the bedroom and changed the loincloths for his own much more civilized tee and jeans. Elijah now looked even more childlike in those too voluminous clothes, and also scrawnier. Jake wondered if he ate enough. He remembered Aaron said that Elijah ate and did everything at his father’s will. But the question remained, was he fed enough?
“Are you hungry?” Are you starving?
Elijah gazed at him with trepidation, those big, turquoise eyes saying nothing.
After some time, Jake grew impatient and patted his shoulder. “Hey, I’m asking you.”
But Elijah immediately pulled away, shaking all over, as if a spark of electricity had spread through his body. Was he afraid of Jake? But the boy had not flinched a bit.
Jake swallowed hard. “Look. I’m not going to touch you. Not now, not ever. So stop being scared of me.”
Elijah shook his head a little and looked down.
“… have to,” he croaked, which did not make any sense at all to Jake.
“Have to – what? Scared of me? Touch me?” Now it was Jake who shook his head, but fiercely. “No. You eat first. After that, then I think we can talk.” Without waiting for any responses, Jake strode out of the room and took no time at all fetching anything he could grab from the pantry. He shoved a tray heavy with bread, jam, soup, and a big glass of milk into Elijah’s hands.
“Eat,” Jake said shortly and his heart skipped a beat as he watched Elijah slide onto the floor and put the tray on his crossed legs, ready to eat right there and then.
“Oh, nooo.” Jake took the tray from Elijah, whose eyes widened, not comprehending. He placed it on his study table and coiled his hand around Elijah’s upper arm, taking the boy to the adjacent chair. “You eat here, alright? Not on the floor. Remember that.”
But he was soon silenced at the speed with which Elijah finished the portions Jake had brought him. Jake almost told him to slow down but he restrained himself, fearing that he might scare Elijah more. But it was apparent that this boy had not been fed enough – was that intentional? Jake shivered at the thought.
Elijah wiped his lips with the back of his hand as he finished the last gulp of his milk and turned to stare at Jake with those stunning eyes. There was almost a smile on his lips. Jake felt his legs turn to jelly. He cleared his throat to hide his nervousness then went to the bed.
“Come here,” he motioned Elijah to the bed as well, patting a spot on the mattress. But to his dismay, the glow that had lit the boy’s eyes dimmed. Realizing what he thought he might have done, Jake immediately mended. “No. Just sit here. We’ll talk about who you are and how you came to be here.”
Elijah stood up and stepped forward in a hesitant manner. He seated himself carefully beside Jake but his sight was lowered now.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered softly.
Jake frowned at the apology but nevertheless felt content for the correct decision he had made. They could connect better after the boy had eaten.
“No, don’t be sorry,” Jake exclaimed. “You’re free to speak if you don’t like the things I tell you to do. You’re not my slave.” Jake cringed at the word. “And we’re not going to use that word again, alright? Remind me if I forget.” Jake noticed how Elijah wrung his hands together and closed in on them.
“Where did you meet my father?” asked Jake softly.
Elijah gazed up and met a pair of compassionate, dark blue eyes. His fright and reservation dissolved a bit.
“At… no. Outside a café. I – I was very sick.”
*
The day had turned into night more than six hours ago. Craig Gyllenhaal, Sr. thought it was time to return home. Deals had been closed, hands shaken, everyone smiling. He always knew things were better settled over wine and laissez-faire conversation instead of strained nerves and frowning brows. Everyone’s happy, that was the place he always wanted to reach. It mattered little to him if he did not get as much as he expected, so long as he still got something.
Smiling widely, Craig Sr. led his guests out of the café where they had been meeting.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, alright, Craig,” a famous actress whom he represented took his hand and shook it warmly. “Thank you very much for everything.”
Craig mumbled his response, watching as she wound her arm around her actor-husband and walked away. They had almost gotten divorced. Lucky they had Craig.
The Sr. Gyllenhaal himself was about to head to his car when his ears caught a small whimper from the alley next to the café. Craig strained to listen, wanting to make sure that he was not imagining things. He did not want to go into the dark pathway only to be robbed or even murdered. But there it was again, the soft sobs.
Craig blinked several times to adjust his eyes to the dark and finally he spotted a curled up figure on that muddy ground. Craig scrunched his nose against the foul smelling place and stepped forward, bending down at the child. It was a kid, wasn’t it?
“Hey. Are you okay?” Craig shook the child’s shoulder, resulting in the latter tautening his position. Craig could feel him shivering. He wanted to ask more questions but he realized it would be of no use. The boy might even be unconscious, whimpering without realizing it. Squatting and kneading his suddenly pained temples, Craig thought of the most plausible reasons he could give his wife for bringing home a tramp in the middle of the night. What if this person is a dangerous criminal or even a killer? No way, Craig argued with himself as he gathered the boy into his arms, not caring about the pungent smell of his body. The kid weighed almost nothing. Poor boy. He could have died had Craig left him lying in that alley. Ah. A big light bulb turned on in his head. He knew what to do so that his wife would not be angry with him.
Craig would keep the boy as his secret.
*
Craig Sr. was no philanthropist but he could learn. He would start by taking this noticeably famished boy under his wings and nourishing him, giving him clothes, providing him with the best education. Craig had four boys but he really did not mind another. They were such great assets and Craig was willing to do everything for them.
But first, he should start by having this one showered. The boy seemed to need more than a bar of soap to cleanse him. Craig’s hands had started toward the boy’s well-worn T-shirt when they halted in the middle of the air.
Beneath the brown dirt was a familiar fluid, already crusted and clotted. Craig’s heart leapt into his throat but something else happened to another part of his body. Craig was stunned to find himself harden at the thought of the caked substance on the boy’s tee. Doubts started to fill his mind. “Who are you, boy?” he whispered.
Craig Gyllenhaal Sr. was no philanthropist and he was no saint, either. Although keen on making sure of the boy’s welfare, his hands roamed over the porcelain-white complexion and tweaked the two nubs on the small, downy chest. Craig hoped the boy would not mind him taking a little of what he had paid for.
Would not mind him laying a hand or two upon his pet’s skin.
*
Jake gulped a mouthful of air as Elijah concluded his story, his normally small eyes bulging out, his hands shooting toward Elijah’s neck. But he immediately realized what he was doing and he schooled them back down by his sides.
“So were you the reason my father divorced mom? Was it you that made things suddenly turn upside down?” Gawking wrathfully at Elijah’s suddenly teary eyes, Jake felt even more that he wanted to throttle the boy’s neck. Elijah gaped, his head slightly shaking.
“I hated my father because of you! Gods! How come I never saw you—so I could kill you?” Jake shot to his feet and staggered to his desk. Away. Anywhere. Away from Elijah.
Elijah bowed his head, wringing his hands agitatedly; his chest heaving deep and hard. Was it his mistake that Jake’s father – his name was Jake, right? – picked him from the dark alley that night? Not that he was ungrateful to be spared death. But what about him? Jake’s father did not merely touch him. In another life, Elijah might have protested whatever accusation Jake laid on him. But in this life, he still felt indebted to the man’s father, though perhaps…he had paid enough. More than enough.
But Jake couldn’t let things alone. “Are you that hurtful,” he screamed from the desk, “that you let a mother walk out of her own house? Don’t you have a heart at all? Don’t you have a mother?”
Elijah froze. His hands ceased their pulls against each other. Don’t you have a mother?
“I’ve never seen your mother,” he said almost soundlessly, still bowing down. “I’ve never known there was a family in this house.”
“What?” Jake could not believe his ears. He ran to Elijah and grasped his shoulders, shaking him so hard he made the boy’s teeth rattle. “Liar, liar, liar!” Jake’s heart hurt terribly. And he could not stop a backhand slam across Elijah’s face.
What he saw on Elijah’s face almost broke him. “Oh!” The same hand flew to cover his own mouth. With his hand upon his burning cheek, Elijah looked so young – like a terrified puppy. Tears streaked down his young face as Jake’s apology was burbled behind his clamped hand.
“He never allowed me to leave my little room,” Elijah spoke between hitching breaths. “Not even to take a bath. Mr. Gyllenhaal always had someone bring a large barrel into the room. He said it was more convenient that way. He said by doing that he still could… watch me.”
Elijah was flustered, but Jake felt as though he were listening to some pervert’s diary. Yet it was not some pervert. It was his own father.
“He came to my room every night,” Elijah continued, breaching Jake’s reverie, making the other jump in surprise. “Until one night he suddenly made me pack all my clothes…” Everything he had was from Craig Sr. – Elijah watched Jake closely, wanting to see if Jake realized that. But the face of his master’s son revealed no emotion so Elijah carried on. “And move to his bedroom. Mr. Gyllenhaal’s room.”
“It was empty,” Elijah spoke quietly. “There was no sign of any women or any other people.” Elijah looked down at his hands. “I of course didn’t believe he might have lived alone. But I didn’t know he had four sons.”
Jake took his hand away from his mouth, silenced. That must have been the time when he decided not to consider Craig, Sr. as his father anymore.
“So he treated you well.” It was more of a statement than a question, and it quite stunned Elijah. “I thought he had paraded you before his righteous colleagues and clients and let them use you.”
Elijah gazed at him, eyes glowing with unshed tears. Yeah, if keeping him naked, under nourishing him, and leaving him shivering every night anxiously awaiting what else Craig Sr. would do to him--after water play, knife play, and all other “plays” crafted by the ever creative man could be seen as treating him well.
“He even bought you clothes.”
Elijah gaped, his mouth open in shock. Where was the compassionate man he thought he had met earlier that night? A man he thought had come as his savior. Well. He was wrong. Jake could even be seen as more ruthless than his father. And what about the other three if this was the best of the lot? Elijah shuddered.
“The clothes were just a decoy.” The sentence was swallowed even before it came out.
“What?”
Elijah shook his head. “No, nothing.” If he ever escaped this God-forsaken manor, it would be his own endeavor and no one else’s. And one of the ways was to survive tonight and make Jake completely content until he had no more energy left to stay awake. Then Elijah could run away--and he must. He could never last in the hands of Jake’s older brothers. They all looked too … starving and saw Elijah as their prey.
“I never saw your mom and I’m not to blame for your parents’ divorce.” Elijah chanted as if it were a mantra. “I never saw my mom, either, you know.” He voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “That’s why I became a whore.”
Jake’s eyes widened, but not owing to the word, whore. He was stunned instead at the way Elijah dropped gracefully to his knees, and on all fours started crawling to Jake, who was standing in the middle of the room, paralyzed.
“Elijah, no,” Jake croaked. “I’m not attracted to you. Gosh, I’m not even gay.” But neither were any of them, including his late father. But who could deny Elijah’s bewildering beauty? Jake’s parents’ divorce might not have been Elijah’s fault, but on the other hand, it might have been his responsibility.
In the end, Jake could say nothing when Elijah’s deft fingers crept up his jeans-clad thighs towards his groin…
*
His plan had gone well.
At least he had left the young Gyllenhaal in a state of hackneyed ecstasy. Elijah fought hard not to fall asleep himself though he had been drained of all of his energy. Lucky for him Jake had fed him more than enough earlier.
Elijah slipped out of the bed and got dressed as quietly as he could. He patted the comforter covering Jake as he eyed the dozing man intently. Elijah was certain he could have fallen for him had the situation totally been different. Elijah knew that behind the sharp tongue, Jake was actually a good person. He was just hurt.
The young rent boy slipped out the door and closed it noiselessly. He prayed and prayed that Jake’s brothers had all gone to bed and there were no guards waiting outside. Elijah walked along the hall, his heart beating so hard and loud he thought it echoed against the walls. There was no one within sight until he reached the front door. It was not locked. He turned the handle, making him wonder for an instant. But perhaps it was not a strange thing for a house this big, where the yard was so vast, and a gate kept out intruders.
The night was starless when Elijah tilted his head up for a moment, somehow making him feel even more lightheaded. But he paid a lot for that moment of grief because the next thing he knew, two pairs of burly hands closed in on both his arms. And a cruel whisper echoed in one of his ears.
“Running away, are we? But your place is here, among those who love you.” Then a derisive roar of laughter followed.
To Be Concluded
Summary: Elijah was Jake's father's pet. But now the man has passed away and Jake's brothers want to decide who Elijah's new master will be.
Pairing: Elijah Wood/Jake Gyllenhaal
Rating: R
Warning: dark themes
AN: beta by [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
A Boy at the Café
Jake stuck his nose into the pages of the book he was – no, he was not reading. It was just an excuse so he did not have to see those men in black suits sent to fetch him. Well, snatch him was more like it, for that was exactly what they had done by asking Jake’s lecturer to allow them to meet him. But once Jake set foot outside the classroom, he was immediately grabbed and taken to his parents’ limo waiting outside. Only after he was tucked safely inside did the men spill the news. Jake’s father had passed away the day before and they were supposed to bring him home for the funeral.
Nothing prepared Jake for such terrible news, not that he felt gravely sad about it. His father had never thought this one son existed. Gyllenhaal Sr.’s silence regarding the decline of his health spoke more loudly than any words, thus Jake felt quite surprised that now he was summoned home. He certainly didn’t think his big brothers, Craig, Seth, and Aaron, still deemed him important. A mother’s darling, that was what they called him, which Jake never attempted to rebuff. After all, he preferred going home to her much skimpier dwelling.
Someone cleared his throat and said, “We’re here, Master Jake.”
Jake blinked and immediately looked away, out the filmed window of the limo as it glided smoothly down the driveway leading to the main door. Jake then entered the eminent lawyer’s mansion on Hollywood Hill. Thanks to those over the top actors and actresses, Jake’s father could afford all the luxuries.
“They are waiting for you in the library.” Again, one of the bodyguards interrupted the young man’s train of thought.
Jake glared at him. One of these days he would have a heart attack if they kept doing that. He wasted no time, though, wanting nothing but to finish whatever needed to be discussed with his brothers. Then he would flee to his mother’s house and only return for the funeral.
Jake’s eldest brother, Craig, opened the door. His eyes were red from crying as he literally threw himself into Jake’s arms. Jake scrunched his nose, hiding nothing of his repugnance toward his brother’s exaggerated act. He knew how his brother was, and to believe him genuinely grieving over their father’s passing away? Never, under any circumstances. And what did he expect – to have Jake share his feelings? If so, he must have been the most dim-witted person on earth. Or simply ignorant.
“Come on,” Jake pushed Craig away from him. “What’s up? Why did you insist I have to come here?”
Craig sighed, apparently still putting on an act, squeezing his brother’s elbow and escorting him inside. He also feigned confusion.
“Ah, Jake. You know… it’s all about father’s will and such.”
“I’ll take whatever I get,” snapped Jake. “Or whatever I don’t get. In fact, I’ll gladly throw away everything he decided to give me. I swear it. You should’ve just given me a call.” He shot an accusing look. “You know he hated me and never wanted me around. Well, the feeling is mutual.”
“Don’t be too hasty,” Craig said in a low voice as he shoved the heavy library door closed. “You’ll change your mind once you see this.”
“Wha--”
Never in his life did Jake feel the way he was feeling now. His body froze, almost to paralysis as he caught sight of –
A young man, much younger than himself, knelt in the middle of the library. The man was naked but for two loincloths covering his crotch and arse. His hands were bound behind his back and his head was bent low. His skin was very pale, so pale that Jake could see the blood running through his veins.
Jake did not realize he was speaking, not even registering his shaky voice. “What’s the meaning of this? Who is he?”
One by one his other brothers, Seth and Aaron, rose from the couch where they had been sitting comfortably.
“Why, Jake? Don’t you feel yourself stir at this sight?” Seth laughed a little, nodding toward the young man. “Can’t you see? Father loved us so much he left his precious thing to us? Can’t you see why we loved him so much?”
“What do you mean, his precious thing?” Jake fought the urge to spill everything he had had for breakfast. He groped blindly sideways, grateful as he clutched the wooden slab of the nearest bookshelf.
“Yeah. Father’s precious thing. You know how generous he was--”
No, I don’t, thought Jake.
“--and how he always wanted to share what he had,” Aaron almost purred. “But not this!” He seized a handful of the young man’s hair and jerked it back.
Jake gasped at the porcelain-smooth column of exposed neck, and was even more stunned at the now revealed pools of blue eyes. He swore he could see a spark of apprehension there but it was soon hidden behind clouds of indifference and – even – defiance.
“Father would allow no one to touch even a breadth of his hair,” Aaron continued. “He was kept constantly in father’s room, all day and all night. He ate, showered, slept, pleasured father, you name it, inside.”
Perhaps that explained why the boy was so pale, Jake mused. Somehow he felt as if he were being lulled – or even hypnotized – by the intense gaze the boy was giving him, before he forced himself to wrench his eyes away and again face Craig, who had been talking without Jake even realizing.
“…and now we must decide who will get this slave,” Craig blurted out, and Jake almost choked at the word slave. “Father didn’t say anything about him in his will, which is totally understandable…” Jake heard someone snicker, probably Seth. “So, yeah. Well. Like I said, we should decide among us who he will go to. Who will be his new master.”
Jake could not take it anymore.
“I’m out of here,” he muttered, his face turning green, his head spinning. “I don’t wanna take part in any of this. You all disgust me.” But something pulled him, making him check the young man again, and Jake halted. Still in Aaron’s clutches, the boy now openly – pleaded with him? Jake could see his fear clearly and now it stayed in his eyes. And Jake immediately knew he could not just walk away.
He turned to Craig angrily, “All right but let me take him first, before we decide.”
*
The inert figure was seated at the foot of his bed.
“What’s your name?” asked Jake in a cold tone. He glanced briefly at the boy as he unpacked his duffel bag and plunked his clothes carelessly into the drawers. They were now in his old bedroom, which had not changed since Jake left two years ago to stay at the university dorm. He hadn’t been back since then, preferring his mother’s house for holidays.
Jake could only catch –Jah coming from the boy’s mouth and he leaned forward. “Come again?” He frowned. Had this boy not been allowed to talk at all? Was it so strenuous for him simply to say his name? Then Jake heard it, absurdly, softly uttered by that beautifully curved mouth.
“Elijah.”
Jake’s heart fluttered without knowing why. Then he nodded a little, crossing his arms around his chest, fully confronting the young man.
“So. Elijah. What a charming name.” He watched Elijah closely, making the boy squirm in his seat.
Jake had freed him from his bonds once they got to the bedroom and changed the loincloths for his own much more civilized tee and jeans. Elijah now looked even more childlike in those too voluminous clothes, and also scrawnier. Jake wondered if he ate enough. He remembered Aaron said that Elijah ate and did everything at his father’s will. But the question remained, was he fed enough?
“Are you hungry?” Are you starving?
Elijah gazed at him with trepidation, those big, turquoise eyes saying nothing.
After some time, Jake grew impatient and patted his shoulder. “Hey, I’m asking you.”
But Elijah immediately pulled away, shaking all over, as if a spark of electricity had spread through his body. Was he afraid of Jake? But the boy had not flinched a bit.
Jake swallowed hard. “Look. I’m not going to touch you. Not now, not ever. So stop being scared of me.”
Elijah shook his head a little and looked down.
“… have to,” he croaked, which did not make any sense at all to Jake.
“Have to – what? Scared of me? Touch me?” Now it was Jake who shook his head, but fiercely. “No. You eat first. After that, then I think we can talk.” Without waiting for any responses, Jake strode out of the room and took no time at all fetching anything he could grab from the pantry. He shoved a tray heavy with bread, jam, soup, and a big glass of milk into Elijah’s hands.
“Eat,” Jake said shortly and his heart skipped a beat as he watched Elijah slide onto the floor and put the tray on his crossed legs, ready to eat right there and then.
“Oh, nooo.” Jake took the tray from Elijah, whose eyes widened, not comprehending. He placed it on his study table and coiled his hand around Elijah’s upper arm, taking the boy to the adjacent chair. “You eat here, alright? Not on the floor. Remember that.”
But he was soon silenced at the speed with which Elijah finished the portions Jake had brought him. Jake almost told him to slow down but he restrained himself, fearing that he might scare Elijah more. But it was apparent that this boy had not been fed enough – was that intentional? Jake shivered at the thought.
Elijah wiped his lips with the back of his hand as he finished the last gulp of his milk and turned to stare at Jake with those stunning eyes. There was almost a smile on his lips. Jake felt his legs turn to jelly. He cleared his throat to hide his nervousness then went to the bed.
“Come here,” he motioned Elijah to the bed as well, patting a spot on the mattress. But to his dismay, the glow that had lit the boy’s eyes dimmed. Realizing what he thought he might have done, Jake immediately mended. “No. Just sit here. We’ll talk about who you are and how you came to be here.”
Elijah stood up and stepped forward in a hesitant manner. He seated himself carefully beside Jake but his sight was lowered now.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered softly.
Jake frowned at the apology but nevertheless felt content for the correct decision he had made. They could connect better after the boy had eaten.
“No, don’t be sorry,” Jake exclaimed. “You’re free to speak if you don’t like the things I tell you to do. You’re not my slave.” Jake cringed at the word. “And we’re not going to use that word again, alright? Remind me if I forget.” Jake noticed how Elijah wrung his hands together and closed in on them.
“Where did you meet my father?” asked Jake softly.
Elijah gazed up and met a pair of compassionate, dark blue eyes. His fright and reservation dissolved a bit.
“At… no. Outside a café. I – I was very sick.”
*
The day had turned into night more than six hours ago. Craig Gyllenhaal, Sr. thought it was time to return home. Deals had been closed, hands shaken, everyone smiling. He always knew things were better settled over wine and laissez-faire conversation instead of strained nerves and frowning brows. Everyone’s happy, that was the place he always wanted to reach. It mattered little to him if he did not get as much as he expected, so long as he still got something.
Smiling widely, Craig Sr. led his guests out of the café where they had been meeting.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, alright, Craig,” a famous actress whom he represented took his hand and shook it warmly. “Thank you very much for everything.”
Craig mumbled his response, watching as she wound her arm around her actor-husband and walked away. They had almost gotten divorced. Lucky they had Craig.
The Sr. Gyllenhaal himself was about to head to his car when his ears caught a small whimper from the alley next to the café. Craig strained to listen, wanting to make sure that he was not imagining things. He did not want to go into the dark pathway only to be robbed or even murdered. But there it was again, the soft sobs.
Craig blinked several times to adjust his eyes to the dark and finally he spotted a curled up figure on that muddy ground. Craig scrunched his nose against the foul smelling place and stepped forward, bending down at the child. It was a kid, wasn’t it?
“Hey. Are you okay?” Craig shook the child’s shoulder, resulting in the latter tautening his position. Craig could feel him shivering. He wanted to ask more questions but he realized it would be of no use. The boy might even be unconscious, whimpering without realizing it. Squatting and kneading his suddenly pained temples, Craig thought of the most plausible reasons he could give his wife for bringing home a tramp in the middle of the night. What if this person is a dangerous criminal or even a killer? No way, Craig argued with himself as he gathered the boy into his arms, not caring about the pungent smell of his body. The kid weighed almost nothing. Poor boy. He could have died had Craig left him lying in that alley. Ah. A big light bulb turned on in his head. He knew what to do so that his wife would not be angry with him.
Craig would keep the boy as his secret.
*
Craig Sr. was no philanthropist but he could learn. He would start by taking this noticeably famished boy under his wings and nourishing him, giving him clothes, providing him with the best education. Craig had four boys but he really did not mind another. They were such great assets and Craig was willing to do everything for them.
But first, he should start by having this one showered. The boy seemed to need more than a bar of soap to cleanse him. Craig’s hands had started toward the boy’s well-worn T-shirt when they halted in the middle of the air.
Beneath the brown dirt was a familiar fluid, already crusted and clotted. Craig’s heart leapt into his throat but something else happened to another part of his body. Craig was stunned to find himself harden at the thought of the caked substance on the boy’s tee. Doubts started to fill his mind. “Who are you, boy?” he whispered.
Craig Gyllenhaal Sr. was no philanthropist and he was no saint, either. Although keen on making sure of the boy’s welfare, his hands roamed over the porcelain-white complexion and tweaked the two nubs on the small, downy chest. Craig hoped the boy would not mind him taking a little of what he had paid for.
Would not mind him laying a hand or two upon his pet’s skin.
*
Jake gulped a mouthful of air as Elijah concluded his story, his normally small eyes bulging out, his hands shooting toward Elijah’s neck. But he immediately realized what he was doing and he schooled them back down by his sides.
“So were you the reason my father divorced mom? Was it you that made things suddenly turn upside down?” Gawking wrathfully at Elijah’s suddenly teary eyes, Jake felt even more that he wanted to throttle the boy’s neck. Elijah gaped, his head slightly shaking.
“I hated my father because of you! Gods! How come I never saw you—so I could kill you?” Jake shot to his feet and staggered to his desk. Away. Anywhere. Away from Elijah.
Elijah bowed his head, wringing his hands agitatedly; his chest heaving deep and hard. Was it his mistake that Jake’s father – his name was Jake, right? – picked him from the dark alley that night? Not that he was ungrateful to be spared death. But what about him? Jake’s father did not merely touch him. In another life, Elijah might have protested whatever accusation Jake laid on him. But in this life, he still felt indebted to the man’s father, though perhaps…he had paid enough. More than enough.
But Jake couldn’t let things alone. “Are you that hurtful,” he screamed from the desk, “that you let a mother walk out of her own house? Don’t you have a heart at all? Don’t you have a mother?”
Elijah froze. His hands ceased their pulls against each other. Don’t you have a mother?
“I’ve never seen your mother,” he said almost soundlessly, still bowing down. “I’ve never known there was a family in this house.”
“What?” Jake could not believe his ears. He ran to Elijah and grasped his shoulders, shaking him so hard he made the boy’s teeth rattle. “Liar, liar, liar!” Jake’s heart hurt terribly. And he could not stop a backhand slam across Elijah’s face.
What he saw on Elijah’s face almost broke him. “Oh!” The same hand flew to cover his own mouth. With his hand upon his burning cheek, Elijah looked so young – like a terrified puppy. Tears streaked down his young face as Jake’s apology was burbled behind his clamped hand.
“He never allowed me to leave my little room,” Elijah spoke between hitching breaths. “Not even to take a bath. Mr. Gyllenhaal always had someone bring a large barrel into the room. He said it was more convenient that way. He said by doing that he still could… watch me.”
Elijah was flustered, but Jake felt as though he were listening to some pervert’s diary. Yet it was not some pervert. It was his own father.
“He came to my room every night,” Elijah continued, breaching Jake’s reverie, making the other jump in surprise. “Until one night he suddenly made me pack all my clothes…” Everything he had was from Craig Sr. – Elijah watched Jake closely, wanting to see if Jake realized that. But the face of his master’s son revealed no emotion so Elijah carried on. “And move to his bedroom. Mr. Gyllenhaal’s room.”
“It was empty,” Elijah spoke quietly. “There was no sign of any women or any other people.” Elijah looked down at his hands. “I of course didn’t believe he might have lived alone. But I didn’t know he had four sons.”
Jake took his hand away from his mouth, silenced. That must have been the time when he decided not to consider Craig, Sr. as his father anymore.
“So he treated you well.” It was more of a statement than a question, and it quite stunned Elijah. “I thought he had paraded you before his righteous colleagues and clients and let them use you.”
Elijah gazed at him, eyes glowing with unshed tears. Yeah, if keeping him naked, under nourishing him, and leaving him shivering every night anxiously awaiting what else Craig Sr. would do to him--after water play, knife play, and all other “plays” crafted by the ever creative man could be seen as treating him well.
“He even bought you clothes.”
Elijah gaped, his mouth open in shock. Where was the compassionate man he thought he had met earlier that night? A man he thought had come as his savior. Well. He was wrong. Jake could even be seen as more ruthless than his father. And what about the other three if this was the best of the lot? Elijah shuddered.
“The clothes were just a decoy.” The sentence was swallowed even before it came out.
“What?”
Elijah shook his head. “No, nothing.” If he ever escaped this God-forsaken manor, it would be his own endeavor and no one else’s. And one of the ways was to survive tonight and make Jake completely content until he had no more energy left to stay awake. Then Elijah could run away--and he must. He could never last in the hands of Jake’s older brothers. They all looked too … starving and saw Elijah as their prey.
“I never saw your mom and I’m not to blame for your parents’ divorce.” Elijah chanted as if it were a mantra. “I never saw my mom, either, you know.” He voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “That’s why I became a whore.”
Jake’s eyes widened, but not owing to the word, whore. He was stunned instead at the way Elijah dropped gracefully to his knees, and on all fours started crawling to Jake, who was standing in the middle of the room, paralyzed.
“Elijah, no,” Jake croaked. “I’m not attracted to you. Gosh, I’m not even gay.” But neither were any of them, including his late father. But who could deny Elijah’s bewildering beauty? Jake’s parents’ divorce might not have been Elijah’s fault, but on the other hand, it might have been his responsibility.
In the end, Jake could say nothing when Elijah’s deft fingers crept up his jeans-clad thighs towards his groin…
*
His plan had gone well.
At least he had left the young Gyllenhaal in a state of hackneyed ecstasy. Elijah fought hard not to fall asleep himself though he had been drained of all of his energy. Lucky for him Jake had fed him more than enough earlier.
Elijah slipped out of the bed and got dressed as quietly as he could. He patted the comforter covering Jake as he eyed the dozing man intently. Elijah was certain he could have fallen for him had the situation totally been different. Elijah knew that behind the sharp tongue, Jake was actually a good person. He was just hurt.
The young rent boy slipped out the door and closed it noiselessly. He prayed and prayed that Jake’s brothers had all gone to bed and there were no guards waiting outside. Elijah walked along the hall, his heart beating so hard and loud he thought it echoed against the walls. There was no one within sight until he reached the front door. It was not locked. He turned the handle, making him wonder for an instant. But perhaps it was not a strange thing for a house this big, where the yard was so vast, and a gate kept out intruders.
The night was starless when Elijah tilted his head up for a moment, somehow making him feel even more lightheaded. But he paid a lot for that moment of grief because the next thing he knew, two pairs of burly hands closed in on both his arms. And a cruel whisper echoed in one of his ears.
“Running away, are we? But your place is here, among those who love you.” Then a derisive roar of laughter followed.
To Be Concluded
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Poor Elijah must not be able to stand anymore.
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Part 2 soon, pls?
:D
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:)
Thanks a lot for reading!
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Cant wait for the 2nd part.
Lillie
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Thank you very much for reading and commenting, Lillie. Will continue and finish the next soon.
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Thank you, and thank you for wanting to read the next part.
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:D
Thank you very much, J! I'm so glad you like it! *kisses*
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I really want to continue this but the comp that I used to write a part of chap 2 is now crashed. I'm still waiting it to be repaired. :(
:)
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I'll try to write soon.