Call Me Sir - Part 8

All characters are 18+ 

Liam stood hunched on the porch, a blanket draped over his naked shoulders and a cup of steaming coffee between two hands. He looked dreadful, but for the first time in a couple of days, the pain had eased off long enough for him to stand up without vomiting.

Gideon watched him from inside. The kid had refused to speak to him for the first part of the morning, but when he insisted that he take the coffee and step out for some fresh air, Liam reluctantly agreed.

The man was successful because he was a no nonsense type of guy. His style was cut throat, and he’d never apologise for it. Life was a bitch, of that he was living proof, and in order to thrive, one had to be strong.

He watched the boy wince as he pulled the blanket further over his thin frame. He wasn’t strong, not even close, but he would be. Strength is a response to life’s cruel jokes, and so far, Liam had failed miserably in that regard.

Sure, the kid had clearly had a tough life, but his answer to that had been drugs, and now he was homeless. Or, he was homeless.

Gideon took his own coffee and joined the naked teenager on the porch. Liam didn’t look at him, he was too busy sniffling and shaking.

“You’re cold” he said, but the boy shook his head.

“You’re cold” he said again, “trust me”.

Gideon took Liam by the shoulders and turned him around to face him. The blanket spread apart to reveal the rest of the young man’s naked body, and Gideon couldn’t help but admire it.

Even after the abuse he’d put himself through, he had a very impressive body. Yes, he was skinny, but once he was fattened up a bit, and some meat was put back on his bones, Liam would be a healthy, handsome young man once more.

He tightened the blanket around him and gestured for him to drink. He drank.

“So” Gideon said, looking out onto the quiet street, “are you going to waste all of your energy hating me or on trying to make yourself better?”

Liam cursed under his breath as a splash of hot coffee hit his hand from his shakes. How on earth had he gotten to this point? He still couldn’t figure out if the man had kidnapped him or if he was free to leave, but where would he even go if he left? He had no idea where he was to begin with!

“I… I don’t hate you” he shivered, “I’m j… Just sick”.

Gideon sat down on a large wicker chair and nodded.

“Yes” he replied, “you are, but it won’t last. It’s a lot less permanent than death, you see”

Liam let out a weak laugh. As pompous as his captor was, he was occasionally funny. He turned around, and when he did, the cup slipped from his hand and he was falling forward.

Gideon caught him. He was wondering when the collapsing would start, and he was glad that he was here when it did. Liam went limp as the man settled his naked body on his lap. He pulled the blanket over the pair of them, and almost instinctively, Liam leaned his head on the man’s chest and groaned.

“You’re alright” Gideon whispered, stroking his sweaty hair, “just rest”.

“It hurts so much, dad” Liam whimpered, and drifted off to sleep once more.

Gideon paced the living room. Was it really a shock that the boy had referred to him as his dad? Other than the fact that the man had thought about Liam in a sexual way on more than one occasion, he was acting just like a father was supposed to act.

He put the boy to bed. He cleaned up his piss, puke, shit and god knows what else. He consoled him, corrected him, and guided him, so why had the phrase rocked Gideon so?

He wasn’t the boy’s father, of course, but would it be so bad to be a father figure? Could he be what the kid needed, even though Gideon’s own father had been a hard, cruel man? Did he know how? Whatever the answer, it would have to wait.

Liam stood naked at the door, his blanket had fallen away, but he seemed unbothered by his nudity, and his eyes were on the man.

“So what happens now?” Liam asked, not even bothering to cover himself.

The man had seen him in all manner of states over the last few days, so what was the use in being modest now?

“You keep me here until this shit is out of my system, and then what?” He spat, though he was doing his best to stay calm. “You kick me back onto the street? Go back to your nice office job? Forget I exist until the next time you bump into me on the street?”

Gideon allowed Liam to vent. By god, he’d done enough venting as a young man himself, and he’d learned that it was best to let people answer their own questions, rather than interrupt them.

“You barge into my fucking motel room, you save my life, then you drag me here and won’t let me leave, and you’re just going to throw me away when you’ve made yourself feel better?”

Under different circumstances, Gideon would have laughed. Watching the boy become increasingly angry whilst standing completely naked was certainly a sight.

“Is that what this is?” He snapped, “you’re just doing this for some selfish fucking kick?”

He was breathless by the time he’d finished his rant, and winced as a pain ripped through his stomach. Gideon stood up, but Liam held out his hand.

“I can do it myself!” He hissed, limping over to a chair and falling onto it.

Gideon walked over to the fridge and took out two bottles of Coke. He unscrewed one and handed it to Liam, then sat back down and looked at his own.

“I’ve never had Coke before” he said, and Liam, even through the evident pain, cocked a brow.

“What?” He almost gasped, “how have you never had Coke?”

“My father” the man smiled, opening the bottle, “said it would rot my teeth. Banned it from the house!”

“What about when you grew up?”

“People in our lives can affect us long after they’re gone, Liam. Good or bad” he said, and took a gulp.

He grimaced and considered the taste for a moment.

“When this is all over” he said, “and you’re a healthy, happy young man, what does it matter where I am? Your life is about you, not me, not your family, certainly not those guys who tried to kill you. You”.

Liam felt his eyes well and looked away, angrily wiping them.

“Whatever” he sniffled, “I expected as much”.

He struggled to his feet and Gideon watched him limp back down the hallway where the door slammed shut. He sighed and rubbed his temples.

What was he supposed to say? That he’d spend the rest of his life with the boy? He was nineteen for Christ’s sake, he had his entire life ahead of him. He’d meet the woman or man of his dreams, have kids, work a decent job, and do all of those things that young men are supposed to do. Gideon was nearly twenty years his senior, it’s not like he could marry the kid!

Yet the boy looked devastated at the revelation, and suddenly Gideon felt a punch of guilt. Had that been the correct response to such a question? Was confirming that he’d leave the boy once he was better, really a good choice? It didn’t appear to be.

The scent of cooking filled the house. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d cooked his own dinner, but perhaps something a little more hearty would lift the lad’s spirits.

Gideon took a gulp of his wine, and he had to admit that it was well needed after the last few days. Perhaps he’d gone a bit overboard, but he’d also made a bizarre decision, and he was going to need all the Dutch courage in the world to tell Liam.

He poured the rest of the second bottle into his glass, grabbed Liam’s plate and walked down the hall.

“Liam” he called out, “my hands are full, open the door, please”.

He stood there and waited for the door to open, until it didn’t.

“Liam!” He called, a little louder in case the young man was sleeping once again, “Liam, can you get the door please, I have dinner for you”.

Again he waited, but again the room remained silent.

“Fuck’s sake” he growled, and placed his wine glass on the floor.

“I was calling you” he said as he pushed inside the cold, dark, empty room.

The window was open, the padlock was on the ground, the key inside it and Gideon’s eyes widened. He dropped the plate, shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the set of keys where he’d kept the one for the padlock. It was gone, and so was Liam.

“FUCK!”