Will and Pleasure

Chapter 1-3

The inert figure was seated on the foot of his bed.

“What’s your name?” asked Jake in a cold tone. He glanced briefly at the guy as he unpacked his duffel bag and shoved his clothes carelessly into the drawers. They were in his old bedroom, which hadn’t changed since Jake left two years before to stay at the university dorm. He hadn’t been back since then, preferring his mother’s house for holidays.

Jake could only catch a soft ‘-uk’ and he leaned forward. “Come again?” He frowned. Had this young man not been allowed to talk at all? Was it so strenuous for him simply to say his name? Then Jake heard it, softly spoken by that beautifully curved mouth.

“Luke.”

Jake’s heart fluttered. Then he nodded, crossed his arms over his chest, and fully confronted the young man.

“So. Luke. That’s a good name.” He watched Luke closely, making the guy squirm.

Jake had freed him from his bonds once they got to the bedroom and gave him his own much more civilized T-shirt and jeans instead of the loincloth. Luke looked almost childlike in the too-voluminous clothes, and scrawnier. Jake wondered if he ate enough. Then he remembered Tony said that Luke ate and did everything at his father’s will. Was he fed enough?

“Are you hungry?” Are you starving?

Luke gazed at him with trepidation, the big, blue eyes blank. Jake grew impatient and patted his shoulder. “Hey, I’m asking you.” Luke immediately pulled away, shaking all over, as if a spark of electricity had spread through his body. Is he afraid of me?

Jake swallowed hard. “Look. I’m not going to touch you…like that. Not now, not ever. So stop being scared of me.”

Luke shook his head a little and looked down.

“…have to,” he croaked, which didn’t make any sense at all to Jake.

“Have to—what? Be scared of me? Touch me?” Jake shook his head fiercely. “No. You eat first. After that we can talk.” Without waiting for a response, Jake strode out of the room and went to raid the pantry. Back in his room, he shoved a tray heavy with bread, jam, soup, and a big glass of milk into Luke’s hands.

“Eat,” Jake said shortly. His heart skipped a beat as he watched Luke slide onto the floor and put the tray on his crossed legs, ready to eat.

“Oh, no.” Jake took the tray from Luke, whose eyes widened, not comprehending. Jake placed the tray on the desk and coiled his hand around Luke’s upper arm, taking him to the chair. “You eat here, okay? Not on the floor. Remember that.” He was soon silenced at the speed with which Luke finished the food. Jake almost told him to slow down but he restrained himself, fearing that he might scare Luke. But it was apparent that this guy hadn’t been fed enough—was that intentional? Jake shivered at the thought.

Luke wiped his lips with the back of his hand as he finished the last gulp of his milk and then he turned to stare at Jake with those stunning eyes. There was the vestige of 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 Luke to the bed, patting a spot on the mattress beside him. To his dismay, the glow that had lit Luke’s eyes dimmed. Jake realized what he thought probably though and immediately amended. “No. Just sit here. We’ll talk about who you are and how you came to be here.”

Luke stood up and stepped forward hesitantly. He seated himself carefully beside Jake but his eyes were lowered now.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered softly.

Jake frowned at the apology but felt content that he’d make the correct decision. They would connect better now Luke had eaten.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jake said. “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, okay? Remind me if I forget.” Jake noticed how Luke wrung his hands.

“Where did you meet my father?” asked Jake softly.

Luke gazed up. His fright and reservation seemed to dissolve somewhat.

“At…no. Outside a café. I—I was very sick.”