The Mobster's Toy Ch. 01

So, we were lying like that, time went by, and suddenly... I could hear his breathing get almost heavy and feel his body relax. Was he sleeping?

I tilted my head, and, surely enough, his eyes were closed, his mouth slightly parted.

What the fuck? Ilya was far too trusting for his own good.

I laid there for a while before carefully extracting myself from his embrace. I covered him with a quilt, and took care of the condom I threw earlier. I could not just leave it there for Fiodor to find.

I got dressed and left, closing the balcony door.

I felt strange, uneasy. But I forced myself to forget about the boy as I headed toward my car. It was a weird experience, that I was uncertain whether I would like to repeat ever again.

***

I slept for the rest of Saturday, and on Sunday I had to study for the test that was scheduled for Monday. I can't say I put my heart into doing that, but at least I attempted to do my best.

So, Monday came.

I made my way to the lecture hall and took a seat in the back. I looked around at the scrawny freshman kids around me. Nobody ever started a conversation with me., They just limited themselves to saying hello, nothing more, but I was (probably) glad that they didn't want to chat. What would we chat about? I wasn't in the mood anyway. Like... ever.

The only empty seat was next to me, a typical situation.

And then a lonely figure came inside, looking around uncertainly.

He didn't catch my gaze, probably too stressed to recognize anyone, he just marched toward the only empty seat left.

Ilya.

Yes, it was really him! I couldn't believe my own eyes.

I blinked and stared in shock. How could this be?

He was looking so drastically different from how I remembered.

His clothes were worn out, his jacket too large, his faded jeans were probably blue some decades ago but now grayish and bleached, and his sneakers gray and worn. His hair was slapdash tied in a ponytail, he also had an old baseball cap. But the most surprising thing was, he had glasses like Harry Potter. I blinked in amazement. He looked radically different, ragamuffin-ish and poor.

Exactly like me.

Six years ago...

...when I was living in a trailer park.

His face was so pale that it was almost gray like the rest of his clothes. There was nothing attractive or seductive about him now; the angelic, prince-like alter-ego disappeared, but strangely, I felt something weird looking at him, almost like... genuine concern!

He sat down and put his bag on his lap, took off his baseball cap and pulled out his notebook. He didn't even glance at me, so I pursed my lips and just waited until he did.

And finally, he did. His gaze was quick, but that was enough.

He recognized me...

His face went even more pale, almost translucent; he froze in place, and blinked mindlessly.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I blurted out in a hushed voice.

"I could ask you exactly the same!" he muttered with a weird grimace.

"I go here. I'm majoring in Computer Science... So, what the fuck are you doing here? Are you fucking stalking me?!" I said gruffly, furrowing.

"Me too! And you're the one stalking me! I transferred here from Kyiv, finally, after two months of some... arrangements. It's finally done."

"You transferred here in the middle of the year?!"

"I came to America two months ago. Fiodor has connections. I guess it helped," he said, smiling ruefully and averted his gaze.

"This is crazy! It can't be just a coincidence that you are here... Tell me the truth, what do you want?"

"It's rather the other way around!" He snarled.

Suddenly, the professor came to the hall and our chat was cut short. People opened their notebooks.

"If you are stalking me, I will deal with you, and it won't be pleasant," I muttered.

He looked at me, his lips winced. "I'm 19, I fit in as a freshman here better than you do! How old are you anyway, like thirty?"

"What? Are you trying to piss me off? I'll be 25 in 3 months!"

The professor started his lecture, and we went silent, although I glowered at him from time to time with furrowed eyebrows. He wasn't backing off, and he was looking at me with the same grimace.

I was very annoyed. It was sick that the mobster boy was at my college! What a weird coincidence. I could not stop myself from having thoughts of immense irritation and frustration.

But after half an hour I started to feel less annoyed.

I glanced at him, his clean, beautiful profile. Under all the ragged clothes Ilya was still the same boy I lusted for on Friday night. I could observe his soft, pink lips and his long eyelashes. He had dark circles under his eyes, his eyelids a bit puffy.

He looked so tired and wasted. I felt really stupid for lashing out at him. I've never felt this way before - sincerely sorry for him, and I was actually surprised that I had that in me. Usually, I never cared, never looked back. I just minded my own fucking business, and I didn't give a fuck about anybody else. Till now.

When the lecture ended, Ilya got up and stormed out of the lecture hall without looking back.

I shrugged. What a weirdo.

I went to the cafeteria only to find him standing in a line. I cursed under my breath but took a spot just behind him. He noticed me and grimaced.

"So, you are stalking me after all," he muttered.

"Shut up. You have eyes, you should know a big man like me needs to eat. A lot."

Ilya went silent for a second then said: "Yep, I can see. You are very... big."

What could I say? It was a fact. But the way he said it was strangely sexual.

Our eyes met for a short time, but he averted his gaze.

We didn't talk. He bought a sandwich for himself, and I said to the saleswoman, "Add that to my order."

He snapped his head angrily. "What are you doing? I have money!"

"Shut up," I blurted out as I paid for his meal. He pursed his lips and headed toward one of the tables, as I followed just behind him.

"I don't want you to buy food for me!" he hissed, his voice angry and humiliated. "You fucked me, all right. But you don't have to pity me!"

I gave him a glare. "How much is he paying you?"

"None of your business!" He hissed from between clenched teeth.

"I imagine he is paying your college tuition, right? Something more?"

"Why do you care, you freak?!"

I clenched my jaw. I had been called a freak many times that I'd almost forgotten it was offensive. I went silent and started to eat. He was biting his lip in evident turmoil, looking flustered.

"I'm sorry. I should not have said that," he admitted, still avoiding my eyes.

I shook my head. "I'm used to it. Don't sweat it."

"You shouldn't be," he muttered as his gaze dropped.

"Don't care."

We finished the meal in silence. When we got up, I asked. "Are you going to class now? My next class is Digital Design at 1.p.m."

"Mine too," he mumbled.

I grunted and checked my cell phone. "We still have about forty minutes before it starts."

A moment of silence. "We can go for a short walk," I murmured.

He fixed his gaze on me. He was gawking for a minute or so, making me feel weird and almost uncomfortable. "What are you doing? Trying to befriend me? I don't even know your name, Beast," he blurted out.

I blinked. "Befriend...? I'm rather antisocial, and I don't have many friends, if any. So, I don't think so. But my name is Landon."

"So what are you doing? Why are you inviting me for a walk?"

"God, why do you have to be so weird about this? It's just a walk. If you don't want to go, don't go. No need to complicate things. This is exactly why I don't date. I only do hookups. The stupid talks, the nitpicking, splitting hairs, arguing over dumb things."

Suddenly, he giggled. "My ex-girlfriend was exactly like that! So annoying. It's probably the reason why I was still a virgin coming to America," he hesitated. "Or because I'm most likely gay," he added in hushed voice.

"So you should know. We are crude guys. No need to complicate things."

"Ok. I'll go," he decided, quite suddenly.

We went outside and took the slowest walk I have ever taken in my life. We gallivanted around campus and admired the architecture. The weather was beautiful; it was LA, so kinda normal LA weather.

"Do you live with Fiodor, or in campus housing?"

He burst with laughter.

"With Fiodor?! He has a wife and children, and I've never even met them. He would not want me around on a daily basis. On weekends, his wife and children are usually out visiting their relatives. So, he invites me over and fucks me. I told you, I'm his weekend fuckboy."

"Stop using that word!" I hissed, even though I, myself, used that in my thoughts. "Never, never use that word in my presence, okay?"

He blinked and shrugged. "Well, what would you call it? He pays my tuition, so I let him bend me over and fuck me during weekends. Simple."

"Well, he is more like a sugar daddy. You just choose to give up your ass to him."

"So, a whore."

"Stop it."

"Well it's the truth. I wanted to leave Kyiv. I was a second year student there. My father's distant cousin was living in LA, and he said that he knew a man who could help me enroll at UCLA. He told my father that the man would want to fuck me in return. My father said no. But a week later, he was killed. So, I got all the money we had and came to the US. And that's how I met Fiodor. He was true to his promise. He helped me enroll; he had some connection with some high officials at the UCLA Admissions Office. Just as my father's cousin had warned, Fiodor demanded to fuck me on weekends. So, it's my second month here. I live in housing on campus, I even have a single room. He gives me some pocket money, but not much. I'm gonna find a normal part-time job soon, I hope."

I listened to his story without interruption. After he finished, I said, "Well. I'm sorry, you have to endure all that."

"It is what it is."

"So... you intend to live like that all through college?"

He glanced at me, and lowered his eyes.

"If I want to finish my education and have a better life one day, I need to live like that."

We walked for another couple of minutes before I said, "There are always student loans."

"I'm not eligible for that."

I really didn't know what else to say. So, we just walked for a few more minutes.

"Did he drug you on Friday?"

I could sense Ilya tense up, and suddenly, he looked aside.

"He gave me ketamine. He said it would relax me."

I pursed my lips, feeling anger.

"Don't take it," I said tersely. "I could tell by the way you looked and behaved. K-hole. Detached. Having trouble controlling your body, just lying there inertly. You didn't really care what he was doing to you, right? My advice: Don't mess with yourself like that."

He chuckled. "Seriously? Are you my mother or what? The bitch left me and my father and married another man, by the way. So, not so much of an inspiring person. "

"Ok, forget what I said. Do whatever you want," I said in a raspy voice as I shrugged.

Why did I care? Seriously. Not my problem. He was not my boyfriend, not my friend either. I just fucked him once. And held him in my arms once. Stupid.

Another couple of minutes went by. We were already close to the building that our next class was in.

"After this lecture I'm going to the gym. But if you are bored tonight, maybe we can go to a movie," I blurted out, unsure of why I was saying this.

He eyed me with a strange grimace.

"I can't tonight, I need to study for tomorrow's test, I have a couple of tests ahead, because of my transfer. Remember I wasn't here for half of the semester. These are the requirements to transfer. Maybe... another day."

"Sure, I understand. Good luck then."

We went to the lecture hall and sat next to each other. I was deep in my thoughts, staring into space. Did I have a... kinda acquaintance now? If one can say that.

Before the professor arrived, Ilya asked me a question I wasn't expecting:

"So, are you going to Fiodor's mansion on Friday?"

I wasn't expecting that question, that's for sure.

I met his gaze, but I kept my expression unchanged. "Yep. Fiodor said he needs a substitute bodyguard every Friday, his regular bodyguards want to have Fridays off. But he needs somebody there to make sure everything is okay."

He looked straight in my eyes.

"Are you going to wander around his mansion late at night?"

I could see a slight blush on his cheeks. But he didn't avert his gaze.

"I might. If somebody asked me to."

He blinked, and we locked our eyes.

END OF CHAPTER 1

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Please -- let me know in the comments section if you liked the story! It gives me motivation to continue writing!

I have another chapter already finished, so if you want to know what happened next weekend at Fiodor's mansion, please follow me, and you will be notified as soon as the second chapter will be published.

I'm not a native English speaker, so I hope you will forgive my inadequacies.

I also would like to thank a mystery editor who helped me with that story a lot :)