The Mobster's Toy Ch. 02

This is the SECOND PART of "The mobster's toy" story,

please read Ch01 before reading Ch02!

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The story is an unlikely ROMANCE between scarred bisexual bodyguard ex-marine ex-cage fighter, and a beautiful young gay who is a fucktoy for a twisted mobster who is forcing him to play dead during sex.

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I was scrolling through the new messages on Grindr, feeling empty and angry for no reason. Fuck that. I was determined to get laid, I was painfully hard the whole evening, I could not think straight, no pun intended.

It was Wednesday, and I usually look for a hookup on Tuesdays, but I found myself unable to do that for some reason. Yep, I looked at pictures, got some nudes, but could not force myself into answering to any of those. Today, I was hell-bent on doing that.

One picture attracted my attention. Some slim, twink-ish looking guy. He had long blond hair. Fuck, why blond?! I wasn't even that much of a fan of blondes. I tried to force myself to look for other dudes, but just kept on coming back to the twink. The worst part, he was close to my location. Probably even on campus?

I clenched my jaw and sent him my dick pic. After maybe one minute, he answered: "Wanna hook up?" I sent, "Sure. We're close by. Campus? I can be at your place in 5 minutes." He answered by giving me his address. Efficient, huh? It was really not far away, indeed a few minutes' walk. "See u soon."

I took a quick shower, packed lube and condoms and got out of my room. I had a single room, although I was living in campus housing to have a better "college experience". Not that I was actually getting one, since I hadn't had many interactions with other freshmen...

So, that was it. I needed to get laid. Had to. Must!

All of a sudden, large drops of rain began falling from the dark sky, as I was maybe fifty feet from the dorm. I cursed under my breath, not now for fuck's sake! LA weather is supposed to be "always sunny". Or at least always "clear". I sped up my pace and got to a small intersection of alleys. I almost bumped into somebody, running from the left.

"Fuck, man!" I hissed, but it was he - who took the full impact of our collision and fell on the ground into the small puddle of water. His baseball cap was now laying on the wet footpath.

"Watch where you..." I suddenly stopped.

He raised his head up, and then I recognized him. The golden, long hair was unmistakable.

"Ilya?"

I bent and grabbed his arms to quickly put him on his feet. I also picked up his cap.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, but it was obviously a stupid question, since he lived here on campus.

"I was coming back to my dorm," he said in a quiet voice, looking at his wet cap. The rain was pouring, and his face had pale with dark rings under his lower eyelids. He was completely wet now.

"Sorry about that," I pointed at his cap, or rather at him. And then I noticed a torn plastic bag laying there and one small roll, completely soaked in the puddle's water.

Ilya looked at that too, biting his lip, but he didn't respond.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. Was that your dinner?"

"Kind of..." he murmured.

I looked at the small roll, blinking stupidly. How could anyone have just one roll for dinner? His head was down, he just clumsily tried to clean his cap from small bits of mud.

"Ilya, can I buy you dinner tonight? I ruined your roll, so it's only fair I buy you something in return."

"You don't have to," he said tersely. "I'm heading to my room."

"On an empty stomach?"

"Why do you even care, I need to go!"

I grabbed his arm. He shivered so intensely that I raised my eyebrows. What was wrong with this boy? He was like a small animal, scared and hounded.

"I'm going to buy you dinner, whether you want it or not. You can go to your room, I will follow you anyway. Like a stalker," I added, narrowing my eyes.

He pouted his lips, turned back and marched away, but I was having none of it. I followed him, as I said, determined to make things right.

He went inside one of the dorms and headed toward his room, which was at the end of a long hallway. I could hear music playing in some other rooms, but there were no students outside.

I pulled out my cell phone and noticed a couple of angry WTF messages from this blond guy from Grindr, but decided to ignore it. I ordered a pizza from a nearby pizzeria.

The boy said nothing as he continued to walk. He opened his door, but I didn't enter the room. I was just standing there, not planning on intruding.

"I will wait here for the pizza delivery. I'll leave it under your door. Don't be afraid, I'm not gonna storm inside," I smiled at him crookedly.

He looked at me. "And why should I be afraid? I remembered you said that only my words are enough to stop you. Isn't that right?" His eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth twitched up.

I tilted my head and winced. "You know that I would never have forced you to do anything."

"So come inside. You can wait here. I don't wanna make a ruckus in the corridor."

Hesitantly, I agreed.

His room was tiny. One bed, one desk, one chair and one closet. He pointed to the bed.

"I'm sorry, it's the only place where you can sit beside my chair."

And surely, he sat down on the only chair, with a grim grimace, leaving me with the only other choice. So, I dropped on the edge of the bed, with a similar grimace.

We sat in silence, awkwardly staring at random things in the room. He had an old laptop and some programming-related books on his desk.

"Were you studying? I don't want to interrupt you. Please, proceed. I'll just wait here," I said, my jaw still a bit clenched.

His gaze flicked to me, his brows drawing together. "Not now, but later I'm going to study a bit."

He looked tired and unhappy, as always - I noticed that every time I saw him in class.

"You should go to sleep after you eat. You look like death."

"Thanks, that's sweet," he muttered. "It's undoubtedly the type of compliment I need to hear to feel better." He smirked, his eyes narrowed.

"It's the brutal truth, I'm not going to give you cheap compliments." I blurted out.

"Oh, shut up. I told you already, you ain't my mother!"

"Don't care. You look like shit. You should sleep more."

He snorted. "I can't! I'm angry all the time!"

I dropped my gaze. I didn't know what to say, except... "I have the same problem. I'm angry all the time. But I manage to sleep."

Ilya shrugged. "Congratulations, but I didn't master that yet," he said sulkily.

"Jerking off helps."

He didn't react to that. We went silent for a while, and then he asked with anger in his tone:

"What do you want from me, Landon? Please, be honest. I deserve to know," he said, forcing the words out.

I probably looked crestfallen. "I don't know, Ilya. I probably feel bad because I fucked you while you were drugged."

He snorted. "Don't sweat it. Not important."

"Well, it's important to me. I don't fuck people who cannot give full consent. It's a matter of honor."

"But I did give you my consent, and I'm not taking it back now. So don't regret it. You are not a problem, I have real problems, you treated me right, so don't go crazy about that fuck."

For some stupid reason, my dick started to swell. WTF? Down, boy!

"Glad to hear that," I muttered, looking blankly at the closet in front of me.

"So. Now that you know, you don't have to hang around. Your conscience is clean."

I snapped my head and looked at him. "Is it a problem if I hang around?"

He shrugged and looked at the dark window. "But why would you even do that? What's the purpose?"

I exhaled and shook my head. "I told you. I really don't know. I just... You are..."

I went silent. He turned his head, his eyes almost turquoise, bright.

"I am? Finish it."

"Lonely? Like me?" I blurted out, avoiding looking at his face. This conversation felt stupid, I just didn't want to continue it, so I stood up.

"Okay, Ilya, I will just wait in the corridor. It will be better that way." I headed toward the door, but he grabbed my hand.

"Hold me."

"What?!" I tried to free my hand, but his grip was strong enough that I would have to use quite a bit of force to shake him off, and I wanted to avoid hurting him.

"Just hold me. Like you held me after sex. Nothing more."

I stared at him, blinking stupidly. What a weird boy he was. I couldn't understand him, I would never ask anybody for something like that. And I never did. I stood like that for almost a minute, before I nodded. I nodded, for fuck's sake!

I sat down and then laid flatly on his bed. He watched me closely and slowly laid down by my side. I pulled him closer and put his head on my shoulder, embracing him tight.

He sighed.

Weird, very, very weird feeling. So strange, almost alien.

His body was small in comparison to mine, slender and lithe. I could feel his smell, subtle, almost feminine, sweet scent. We were laying like that for almost ten minutes, and I slowly started to lose the feeling of strangeness and started to relax a bit.

It wasn't unpleasant, don't get me wrong. It was just unusual, at least for me.

I could actually fall asleep like that, but suddenly, my phone vibrated.

"It's the pizza delivery," I said, and he moved away from me, letting me to stand up.

The pizza boy was outside the building and I paid him. When I returned, Ilya was again sitting in his chair. His face was... somewhat different. More... at ease? But he was avoiding my gaze.

I put two cans of Coke on his desk and Ilya opened the pizza box. We started eating, I ate one slice, he ate four slices, or rather devoured them. I observed him carefully.

"You really don't have much money, do you?" I snorted.

His eyes snapped up to me. "Why do you care? Stop bugging me."

"I don't know, I told you already, I just... don't find the thought of you starving too pleasant, you know?"

He didn't answer, looking silently at the pizza. I drank my Coca-Cola and said:

"Okay, Ilya. I'm gonna go now."

"You ate only one piece."

"I'm not hungry. You can have the rest. Tomorrow, I'm taking you to lunch, and you will have to run very fast to avoid me, Ilya."

He eyed me, but said nothing.

I stood up and headed toward the door. I opened it, and was about to go through the threshold, Ilya grabbed me again.

I turned and looked at him. His eyes were big, with this beautiful sea color. I kind of stared at them, at his long lashes, casting shadows on his pale, high cheekbones. I lowered my gaze to his lips. They were slightly trembling. He looked weirdly nervous but... not only that. There was something more. Something... like a strange longing. I noticed that his hand on my wrist moved slightly up. It was a small movement. Then again. It moved a couple of inches up. I was just staying there, doing nothing, except for looking at him. And there it was again. Slow movement up, his fingers were now at my biceps, but they didn't stop there. After another couple of seconds, they reached my shoulder and then wandered slowly to my chest. I could feel my heart speeding a bit.

He was so close now. I could hear his shallow breathing, could feel his scent.

I looked at his lips again. He slightly tilted his head, just slightly. What did he want? Did he want me to kiss him? That would be unwise. I could not imagine having a relationship with him, we couldn't be anything besides college friends.

But I wasn't made of stone. His closeness made me flustered, uneasy. Who would be indifferent to such a slender, golden-haired nineteen-year-old boy? Not me, that's for sure. I was fighting with my slowly waking up dick.

My eyes met his eyes. God, it was almost too much. His eyes were so vulnerable, so completely open and honest. It was like he was searching for something in my gaze. Asking almost, but I didn't know what the question was.

"Ilya..." I whispered. It came out much more erotic, sensual, than I intended.

His eyes lowered, and he looked at my lips. God, it was really too much to ask, how could I restrain myself, I was only human! So then I made a mistake, for which we would both soon pay the price, so cruel and horrid. But at that moment I forgot about rationality, about everything.

I slowly lowered my head, very slowly, giving him time to react, and my mouth brushed his cheek. But he turned his head a bit, and our lips met in one light kiss.

It felt slightly dizzy, a bit crazy. Like a teenager's first kiss.

God, his lips were the softest and the sweetest lips I have ever kissed. His mouth opened against my own, I felt his tongue, warm, almost shy, but soon his lips parted even wider, with each taste, our tongues diving deeper. My body tingled with sweet bliss. His small hands were on my chest, and I embraced him in my arms, just kissing, just feeling, tasting his sweetness and weird, but total innocence. The slick movement of our lips sent blood directly to my hard dick aching to be touched.

I lost myself in that kiss, an almost orgasmic, perfect feeling rushed through my veins... I wanted him, I desired him. Wanted to carry him to bed, kiss him all night, make love to him.

And then we heard a door slam loudly, somewhere very close to Ilya's room.

I stepped back, freeing him from my embrace.

My senses were coming back. What the fuck did I just do? Our eyes were still locked, he gave me a long, searching look, his gaze still weirdly intense.

"I'm sorry" I mumbled. "I shouldn't..." and then I turned away, and stormed out of his room, cursing under my breath.

Was I crazy?

Why the fuck did I do that?

It could only fuck with him, and fuck with my own head. Crazy! He was in a situation where I could not help him. I had no money (just barely enough savings for my college tuition), no valid connections, I simply could not involve myself in cuckold sex on the side with the mobster's sponsored lover.

Yes, Ilya had something in him that was attracting my attention, drawing me to him in a weird way. It was too dangerous.

I once had an "almost" relationship with a girl who had serious drug problems, and I was happy that I ran away in time, before she broke my heart. I remembered that she also had this sadness and peculiar innocence about her, and it made me just want to save her. Stupid savior's complex.

Maybe Ilya was right? I've had a thing for helping the "stray souls"?

But it was an even more dangerous affair than falling for a drug addict. Fiodor was a businessman slash mobster person, who was involved in underground fights for years. I met him while I was still fighting, he was one of the sponsors and bettors, making good money on illegal betting. We were never close, just acquaintances, as I was introduced to him at some post-fight party.

But I knew he was dangerous, and had powerful connections, so fucking his weekend fuck-boy was out of the question if I wanted to be alive.

I came back to my room, my dorm was two minutes away from his place, and went straight to the bathroom for a piece of toilet paper. I needed to jerk off as quickly as possible and flush him out of my system. Stupid, stupid motherfucker. That's who I was.

So, I started pulling on my cock, but my mind was flashing with the images of sweet soft pink lips, sucking me off, big, innocent blue-green eyes and long, golden hair.

In other words, that was kind of pointless as far as getting fucking him out of my system.

My orgasm was bittersweet, as I simply could not erase Ilya from my mind. The worst part was I didn't even want to open Grindr anymore. I just went to bed and forced myself to go to sleep.

The next day I had a class at 9 a.m. It was already 9:07 as I entered the lecture room mumbling apologies to the professor. And then of course... The whole place was packed. There was only one seat left. Next to... Ilya.

Fuck, I just had no chance, did I?

I clenched my jaw and headed toward this seat. I was met with his blue-green gaze. God, his eyes, even with the glasses, were so beautiful, it took my breath away. I almost slipped before dropping onto my chair.

"Hi," he said in a hushed voice. "I thought you wouldn't come."

"Why?" I growled, avoiding his gaze.

"I don't know. I was afraid you were angry at me..."

"Why should I be angry at you!" I blurted out. "I can only be angry at myself for making it harder for both of us."

He didn't answer, just stared at the professor, but I bet he didn't listen to the lecture, just as I wasn't listening. I was very conscious of his closeness, his scent, his warmth. His thigh was almost pressing to my thigh. I closed my eyes, fighting with a hard erection growing in my pants. Fuck, I was lost! So fucking lost. I wanted to bend him over and fuck him for hours, make him come for me, make him scream for me, make him shiver for me. Madness!

I turned my head and looked at him, at his beautiful, exotic, Slavic face. He noticed me gawking at him and blushed.

"What?" he murmured.

"You're so fucking beautiful. Perfect. Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

It was probably the stupidest thing I have ever asked.

He blinked, and licked his lips.

"Why did you touch me, Ilya? Touched me like this. You cannot touch me, do you understand? I won't be able to stop myself, and it won't be a good thing if I do what I want to do. Promise me, you won't touch me again, okay?"

He swallowed.

"I... don't know what to do, Landon. I'm so lost. I'm lonely. I'm scared. I'm fucking scared!"

In an impulse, I reached and took his hand in mine, then squeezed it lightly.

"I know. I can feel it. But I don't want you to trouble yourself with anything more than you already deal with. I'm just a distraction."

"I really need somebody who would just... be there for me. Hold me when I'm down. My grandmother was that for me. She sort of raised me. She was caring and good to me. I miss that. I just miss... feeling safe."

I reached out and stroked his cheekbone in one, single brush. He shivered, just a bit.

"I know. I know what you feel. I felt like that for years, having nobody who would care for me..." I hesitated. I was surely spiraling down into something really weird and new for me, but what the hell! "Okay, so if you wish, you can be my friend, if you want to be hugged, I can do it. If you would like to talk, you can talk. Does that sound okay?"

He nodded, his eyes again vulnerable and wide open.

"But why? You don't want me to touch you, and just like that you wanna be my friend?"

I giggled like a teenager. But it was not a cheerful giggle. "I don't know why I do all these unusual things lately. I want to avoid dwelling on this. Let's just say, I can somewhat relate to what you are going through. I was sexually abused as a young teen. I really know what it means to be forced into a stressful situation and have nobody. Nobody. So let's just leave it like that. I'll be there for you as long as you want."

"Thank you. I... appreciate it. I accept it."

And then he did the unthinkable. He took my hand and just clasped it with his... for the whole lecture. I literally haven't held anybody's hand since I was in high school.

Another peculiar incident in my life.

After the lecture we went to lunch together and the conversation was much more light. He told me about his college in Kyiv and about his courses. He was actually good at hacking as a young boy and spent a lot of time searching the dark web. Furthermore, he was also quite a good web developer with sufficient proficiency in PHP and MySQL.

I had somewhat different interests; as a teenager, I liked making mods for games I liked to play, and I was adept enough in programming in JavaScript, C++ and Python. During my military service I still continued to make simple apps on my laptop whenever I had the opportunity, but that was not often. Now I wanted to go back to that, and it was one of the reasons to try Computer Science.