by Loki Renard
Struggling to deal with his temper, Aiden let out a little growl.
“Settle down, pup,” Rob said. “I'm medically trained. I can make this easier on you. All you have to do is relax and sleep. If necessary, I can give you a sedative...”
“A sedative?” Aiden perked up at that.
“Only if it’s necessary to help you not to seize and die. Sit down. You're going to eat.”
“I'm not hungry.”
“And that's the problem. You should be. You're starving.”
“Still not hungry.”
5
ROB
Make sure that door's locked.”
Rob emerged to find Steve pacing back and forth in front of Aiden's room. He'd gotten dressed in a tight white t-shirt and blue jeans, and he was scowling furiously. That little run in had not helped his impression of Aiden Taylor-Chapman one little bit.
“He's a little shit,” Steve growled. “Deserves a damn beating.”
“Later,” Rob said. “He's going to be a very sick boy for a few days. Let's get him through that before we start beating him. I'm going to make him some chicken and rice, and then you're going to help me feed him.”
“We've got to feed him too?”
Rob shrugged. Probably. Aiden was a smart boy who wanted just one thing. Dope. And given he couldn't have it, he was probably going to use everything as a bargaining chip. Including holding his appetite hostage. He wanted drugs. They wanted him to eat. There was a power struggle brewing, one Rob did not intend to lose.
“Just let him go hungry,” Steve said, testing the door for the third time since Rob left the room to make sure it was locked. “He'll eat when he needs to.”
“He won't,” Rob shook his head. “Addicts don't have the same physiological responses healthy people do. He won't know he's hungry, he'll forget he's thirsty, he won't go to the bathroom. We're going to have to keep a really close eye on him until his body heals enough to take over.”
“Fucking stupid,” Steve growled. “He did this shit to himself.”
Rob didn't reply. Steve was a pull yourself up by your bootstraps kind of guy, thanks to having been born in less than ideal circumstances. From what Rob had gathered over the years, Steve had bounced his way through the foster system before joining the military and distinguishing himself. He didn't have time for weakness or vice, and didn't care who knew.
Not getting the hint, Steve kept rumbling away behind him while Rob cooked.
“You're going to have to cool it,” Robert said eventually. “Like him or not, he's our client and we have to show him respect.”
“Respect?” Steve spluttered.
“Yeah. Respect. That's how this works.” Rob turned to Steve, spatula in hand. “He might be a mess, but you're a professional. So act like it.”
Steve's face went hard like granite. He didn't take well to lectures of any kind, and usually they weren't necessary. Over the years they'd worked together so much there wasn't really a hierarchy anymore – except when there was. Rob was technically Steve's boss. Technically. He tried not to make too much of it because Steve was the sort of guy who didn't take well at all to being bossed around and they usually had a working relationship that didn't require it. This kid was getting under Steve's skin though, and Rob really wasn't entirely sure why.
Steve fell silent and Rob continued cooking, sensing trouble brewing on two fronts. The meal didn't take much longer to cook, and when it was ready he tipped it into a bowl and turned to Steve, who was standing nearby, looking out the window with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Please tell me you're not going to sulk.”
“I'm not sulking. I'm being professional,” Steve said coldly. He turned his gaze on Rob. “Do you have any orders for me, sir?”
That was the problem with pulling rank. Steve would make his life fucking hell. Rob didn't have time for this.
“Yeah,” he said, pushing the bowl toward Steven. “Go feed him.”
The muscle in Steve's jaw ticked, but he didn't argue. He turned on his heel and headed toward the bedroom. Rob was sure that neither of them were about to enjoy the next few minutes, but that wasn't his problem.
6
AIDEN
He wasn't hungry. Not when the guy with the messy hair told him he was going to be fed, and not when Muscles, now clad in a t-shirt and jeans, came to see him either.
“You can fuck off,” he said the minute the man entered the room. “Actually, no. You can let me go, or call the cops.”
“You're wanted,” Muscles said. “And you'd last about two minutes outside this place without us.”
“Yeah? I managed to live thirty years without you. What makes you suddenly so necessary to my survival?”
“Bobby Cornoli.”
Shit. That was one name Aiden really didn't want to hear.
Muscles held the food out. “Eat.”
“Nah.”
“I'm not asking. I'm telling.”
“I don't give a shit what you're doing. I'm not hungry.”
“Fine.” Muscles put the bowl down. Aiden figured he'd won when the man left the room, but Muscles was back a second later with a kitchen chair in hand. He plonked it in the middle of the floor, grabbed Aiden and carried him across to it. Being picked up as if he didn't weigh anything at all didn't please Aiden at all. He struggled against the hard lines of Muscle's body, cursing and swearing, but it didn't do anything. Muscles put him in the chair, grabbed the belts that Aiden had woken up with around him, and started wrapping them around him, belting him into the chair.
“You're going to eat,” Muscles said grimly.
With his arms pinned by his sides, Aiden was only left with the option of clamping his lips closed as Muscles crouched in front of him, took a spoonful of food and moved it toward his mouth.
“Here comes the choo choo train,” the monster of a man said, smirking with amusement. “Open up.”
No way. Aiden kept his mouth firmly closed. Maybe this asshole could manhandle him into a chair, but he couldn't force-feed him.
“Do you want this, or a tube down your throat?” Muscles said. “Because that's the next step.”
Okay, maybe he could force-feed him.
“You're sick...” Aiden didn't get any more out because the moment his mouth opened, Muscles pushed the spoon into it and then there was food on his tongue, a chicken and rice stir fry sort of thing. Actually tasted pretty good – but Aiden had no intention of chewing it. He spat it back out at Muscles and grinned defiantly, even though most of it had landed back on his own lap and nowhere near his tormentor.
Muscles turned his head and bellowed. “Rob! Get the tube!”
The door opened and the other man walked in, took one look at the scene and frowned.
“What's going on, Steve?”
Steve. So that was Muscles's name.
“He wouldn't eat. What did you expect me to do?”
“Not cover him in it,” Rob said, shaking his head.
“That was his choice, not mine.”
Aiden sat there as the bodyguards bickered, the remnants of taste in his mouth actually making him feel sort of hungry. It had been a long time since he'd eaten. He actually couldn't remember his last meal. He still felt dope sick, but maybe food would actually help with that.
“You feed him,” Steve said, pushing the bowl into Rob's hands. “See how you do.”
Rob sighed, put the bowl down again, and began to unwind the belts from around Aiden's body. Thank god there was somebody sane in this little clusterfuck. Muscles was on a power trip Aiden absolutely wanted off of.
Once Rob had him disentangled from his impromptu bondage, he picked up the bowl and handed it back over.
“Eat something,” he said. “You need your strength.”
It was worth the irritated expression on Steve's face just to start eating without complaint.
“See,” Rob said as Aiden started to nibble at the meal. “No need to be rough.”
A
iden gave a little smirk toward Steve, a private look of manipulative triumph. Steve cracked his knuckles in response, making Aiden snort into his food. Threats of violence from a bodyguard. That was a new one.
“Mmm, pretty good,” Aiden said. “Thanks, Rob. For the food, and for not tying me up to eat it.”
Steve shook his head, turned on his heel and walked out the door. Pity. Aiden was looking forward to tormenting him a little more.
“Don't taunt Steve,” Rob said. “It won't end well for you.”
“I'm not taunting anyone,” Aiden said, wide eyed and innocent, as if being accused of such a thing hurt him deeply.
7
ROB
This boy was a brat. He was already working on a divide and conquer strategy just minutes into their association. He was going to learn that wouldn't work. Rob and Steve had been working together for a very long time, and though they sometimes bickered, they were an absolutely united front when it mattered.
“I don't feel well,” Aiden said suddenly.
He'd gone even more pale and clammy. Rob grabbed the bucket from the corner of the room and two seconds later the entire meal was back inside it. It wasn't pleasant, but he'd seen and smelled worse in his time, by a long way. More concerning was the way Aiden slumped afterward, losing consciousness. Maybe Steve's idea of belting him into the chair hadn't been so silly after all.
Moving swiftly, Rob managed to catch Aiden before he cracked his head on the floor.
“STEVE!”
Steve was there in an instant, gun in hand.
“Don't need that right now,” Rob said. He scooped Aiden up and got to his feet. Aiden was on the shorter side and still too damn light for his size. “Help me get him to the bathroom will you? Just grab the door.”
Steve did as he was asked without comment, back into his professional mode. He even got the shower running and stood in the doorway as Rob lowered Aiden's insensate body to the bathroom floor and began stripping the filthy clothes from him. It wasn't a pleasant job, but it was his job.
Underneath his clothes Aiden actually had a surprising amount of wiry definition. Rob kept his gaze impassive and professional as he took off the younger man's shirt and shoes and pants. He rested Aiden's head on a towel, making sure he was on his side in case he was sick again, before stripping himself down to his boxers as well. Then he eased Aiden up from the floor and got into the shower with him, crouching beneath the flow of water.
Steve looked on as the water ran over them both, Rob cradling Aiden's head against his chest to keep his airway clear.
“He talks a big game for someone this sick,” he observed with what Rob interpreted as being a grudging respect.
“Yeah he does,” Rob agreed, brushing Aiden's hair to the side so the water didn't run directly into his eyes. “Needs a haircut too.”
“Yeah? Does he need to trim his nails too, mom?”
Steve was smirking, but Rob just nodded. “Actually, yes.”
The warm water falling on his body eventually bought Aiden back to consciousness. He was bleary eyed at first, confused and squirmy as he turned around to look at Rob.
“Why are we in the shower? Why am I naked?”
He didn't seem overly concerned at waking up naked with a half dressed man in a shower, Rob noted. And he didn't try to get up, or move away. He stayed right where he was, nestled between Rob's legs.
“You were sick and passed out. We're just getting you cleaned up.”
8
AIDEN
Jesus. They were both looking at him. Muscles especially, standing in the doorway with his arms over his massive chest. Aiden felt his cock twitch before he reached down, reflexively covering himself.
“You guys want to give me some privacy?”
“I'm going to stay here to make sure you don't pass out again,” Rob said from behind.
“Okay, but he can go.”
Steve smirked and stepped away. “Nothing I need to see here.”
“Dick,” Aiden sniped.
“Exactly.” Steve's voice floated back as he shut the door, leaving Aiden in the steaming shower with Rob. It wasn't the first such shower he'd ever taken, but it was probably the first he'd only been conscious of part way through – actually no, that wasn't entirely true either.
“I want to stand up,” he mumbled, trying to get to his feet. It wasn't easy on the slick tile but Rob's strong hands assisted him to do what he wanted. When he was up, he leaned shakily against the wall, putting what little distance he could between himself and the big wet bodyguard.
“You don't have to stay in here with me.”
“I know,” Rob said, wiping the water out of his eyes. “But it's safer if I do. You went out like a light. You're going to need one of us with you at all times until you feel better.”
“You,” Aiden said, turning his back to the flow of the water and letting it pound against his shoulders. “Not the other guy.”
“Steve's not as bad as you think,” Rob said. “He's just... conservative.”
“You mean he's a bigot,” Aiden said, feeling a hot flash of shame. He figured Rob was referring to the worst kept secret in his world: his sexuality.
“No, I mean he likes things done a certain way. He's strait laced.”
“But you're a party guy, right?”
“No,” Rob smiled. “Not really, but I'm more patient than he is. Here's soap. Get cleaned up.”
“Give me some room, then,” Aiden said. “You can spot me from outside the shower if you have to.”
“Okay, you feeling alright?” Concerned eyes locked on him and made his stomach act up for totally different reasons. Rob was fucking hot with his clothes off. He had the kind of body you could only get from using it in hard situations. There was no gym definition, there was ripped physicality, and Aiden was starting to feel the effects of it really fucking strongly.
“No,” Aiden said. “I'm not feeling alright at all, but I can wash my own ass.”
“Alright,” Rob said. He got out of the shower and gave Aiden some space.
Aiden couldn't help watching as the bodyguard stood dripping on the shower mat, reaching for a towel. His body wasn't as big as Muscles’s, but it was just as defined. Both these guys were built like gods.
Even though Aiden still felt like utter hell, there was a definite stirring down there as Rob reached to his boxers and peeled them down without any shame or hesitation, displaying his cock. He wasn't hard and it hung heavy between his thighs, a thick meaty weight. Fuck. Aiden swallowed and looked away, lifting his face to the water to try to clear his head.
Rob didn't say anything, but Aiden could feel the bodyguard's eyes on him.
He'd never been this thoroughly inspected before. Hell, he'd never been this under control before. His entire life, he'd done exactly what he wanted, when he wanted. That was one reason why this situation was totally outrageous, aside from the fact that it was totally and utterly illegal. They were literally holding him against his will.
“You know you're going to have to let me go,” Aiden said, rubbing the soap over his chest. “I mean, this is technically kidnapping.”
“Aiden, there's a mob boss with hundreds of men looking for you. Do you really want to be free right now?”
Rob had a point.
“Okay, but as long as you're with me, there's a mob boss with hundreds of men looking for you, too. Is that what you want?”
Rob smiled, his face brightening and becoming even more handsome. “We're not worried about Mr Cornoli.”
“Why? Because you're working for an even bigger mob boss?”
“Mr Malone is not in organized crime.”
“Not officially,” Aiden sneered.
“Not at all.”
Aiden had his doubts about that. Mason Malone's name came up way too many times in his circles for him to be unconnected. He kept his distance from Mason these days. They'd been very close all their lives, but once Mason went off to join the Marines, distance had spru
ng up, and then when he'd gotten back and not approved of Aiden's new lifestyle, they'd stopped having pretty much anything to do with each other. His old friend's sudden interference was confusing as hell.
“Why is Mason doing this?”
“Mason has Ellie, and he sent us to look after you.”
Aiden dropped the soap as his fists balled. Ellie hated Mason with everything she was worth. She'd never have gone to him of her own free will. Had Mason just kidnapped them both? What the fuck was going on?
He stepped out of the shower, not bothering to rinse, not stopping to turn the water off. He just walked.
“Hey...” Rob put a hand out to stop him. “Where are you going?”
“To get Ellie.”
Rob's gaze softened. “She's fine. She's safe.”
“She's with Mason, so she's not fine. She hates him.”
“Well I don't know about that,” Rob said evenly.
“I do,” Aiden insisted. He grabbed a towel and rubbed it half-heartedly over his body. “I need some clothes. I got to go get Ellie.”
“You're staying here.”
“Fuck off, I am,” Aiden growled. He wrenched the bathroom door open to unsurprisingly find Steve standing there. He had probably been listening.
“Get out of my way.”
“Can we teach this boy some manners yet?” Steve asked the question over his head.
“He's stressed about his sister,” Rob said from behind. “Go easy on him.”
“Get out of my way, Muscles,” Aiden growled again.
“Muscles?” Steve's lip quirked with amusement. “Okay, calm down, kid.”
“I'm not a kid. I'm not a boy. I'm not yours to worry about, so...”
“Right on the first two, wrong on the third,” Steve said, putting his hand on Aiden's chest. “You're absolutely mine to worry about.”