Disciplinary Action Page 11

  For a second, Cal wasn’t sure Gideon would answer. But then he said, “No…but also yes. When you’re with somebody that long, there are bound to be some…resentments. Frustrations. Regrets. It’s complicated.”

  Cal let it go. It wasn’t right for him to try to strip Gideon bare when he clearly didn’t want to talk about his past. “Will you show me how to cook for myself?”

  Gideon grinned. “Sure.”

  “And do laundry?” Cal asked.

  Gideon nodded. “Yes, that too.”

  “Do people still use checkbooks?” Cal asked.

  Gideon laughed. “You are just full of questions.”

  Cal blushed. “Sorry.”

  “No, I’m happy you’re feeling well enough to pester me with questions.” A shadow crossed his face, his brow furrowing. “You really scared me. You were so pale. So confused. I hate to think what might have happened if Alexa and that officer hadn’t found you.”

  “How is she?”

  “Alexa? She’s a menace. She chases the ducks around the pond. She snores like an overweight rhino, and she refuses to sleep in her dog bed.”

  “You…kept her?” Cal asked, finding it hard to believe.

  “Well, once I realized she wasn’t going to try to eat me, I also realized the likelihood of her getting adopted at her age, with those scars, was likely slim to none. But she’s not my dog; she’s yours. Your responsibility. You’ll walk her and feed her. Understand?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” Cal said without thought.

  Suddenly, Gideon was in his space, a low growl escaping before he captured the boy’s lips in a rough kiss that was more teeth than tongue. “Careful, baby boy, or you’ll get me kicked out of here. It’s been too long since I’ve been inside you, and we’ll have to take things slowly until you’re feeling better.”

  Cal sucked in a breath, searching Gideon’s face for the lie, but there was only a heated gaze that made Cal bite the inside of his cheek to keep from getting a hard-on in a hospital gown. Cal sat forward enough to kiss Gideon once more, slowly this time, savoring the taste of coffee on his tongue and the way his scruff scratched at his skin. “How slow?” Cal whispered.

  “Let’s see how you feel tomorrow,” Gideon said, sweeping his palm over Cal’s forehead, brushing his hair away to place a chaste kiss just above his brow. “I should get going, to let you rest.”

  Cal reached out and snagged his shirt, keeping him from standing up. “Thank you…for my presents. I don’t know how to properly thank you.”

  “Don’t worry. I have a very long, very dirty list of all the ways you can thank me.”

  “Daddy,” Cal whined, shifting as his cock started to take interest in the conversation. “Don’t be a tease.”

  Gideon gripped Cal’s chin gently. “I’ll do as I please. Now, give me one more kiss before I go.”

  Cal did as Gideon commanded, kissing him once, then twice, before Gideon pulled away, lifting Cal’s hand and brushing his lips across his knuckles like they were in a Victorian novel. “Goodnight, baby boy.”

  “Night, Daddy,” Cal whispered.

  The hospital had phoned Gideon at eleven to say Cal would be released following an educational session with their educator at noon. Gideon had asked if Cal was able to stay until he left work to come get him. The woman on the phone had said that would be fine. Gideon had left at lunch-time anyway. As eager as Cal was to leave that place, Gideon was twice as eager to never have to go back. While the place was no longer giving him nightmares, the scents and sounds still triggered a panic that was hard to shake.

  “Dr. McManus released you on the insulin pens, but I really think the pump would work the best for your lifestyle, Callum,” a woman said from behind the cracked hospital door.

  There was a confusion in the woman’s tone that made Gideon hesitate to push the door open. He stayed in the hall, feeling not the least bit guilty for eavesdropping.

  “No offense, ma’am, but you don’t know anything about my…lifestyle. You only know what you see on that paper,” Cal said, frustration leaching into his tone. “I don’t want the pump.”

  “That’s your right, of course. I-I’m afraid I don’t understand the problem. I have your records from your previous doctor. You wore an insulin pump for most of your high school years, and your glucose levels were well maintained. It was only after you stopped using the pump that your numbers became erratic. Can you tell me your concerns about the pump and perhaps we can find a solution together?”

  Gideon wanted to know as well. He pushed the door open without knocking. Cal looked both relieved and worried to see Gideon standing there. The boy was sitting on the side of his hospital bed dressed in a pair of joggers and had his hands buried in the pockets of his Ravens lacrosse team hoodie. The woman sat in the ugly green hospital chair in her navy scrubs and white jacket, a clipboard in her hands. Cal wouldn’t look at her. Would only stare down at his brand new bright white sneakers. The ones Gideon had sent over that morning when he realized Cal would be discharged in his dirty uniform if he didn’t send him something to wear.

  Gideon turned to the woman, extending his hand. “Leopold Gideon.”

  “Patty Webber, Diabetes Educator for the hospital. I was just going over Callum’s options for managing his insulin.”

  Gideon gave the woman a pleasant smile. “Nice to meet you. Would you mind giving me just a few moments with Cal?”

  She cleared her throat. “Oh, not at all. I’ll come back in fifteen minutes.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  Once they were alone, Gideon perched beside Cal on the bed. He refused to look at Gideon either, instead continuing to stare at his feet. Cal jumped when Gideon placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on here?”

  “Nothing, I just don’t want the pump. Vials are fine. I just don’t understand why I have to defend myself over what is my decision.”

  There had to be something more going on. “Of course, it’s your decision. But is what that woman said true? You were better managed on the pump?”

  “Yeah, but that was because I had the pump right up until I could no longer afford it. It’s hard to manage diabetes when you lack the funds.”

  “I’m just asking you to explain to me why you’re so upset about the idea of using the pump.”

  Cal’s face tensed, but Gideon could only watch the boy in profile. “Maybe because I don’t want something hanging off my body all day, every day. Maybe it’s a pain in the ass stopping and disconnecting every time I want to swim, or shower, or play sports, or—”

  “Or?” Gideon prompted.

  Cal finally looked at Gideon, cheeks pink. “It will get in our way. It will get in your way.”

  Ah. Sex. Interesting. Gideon frowned. “You said it was easily removed. Do you think I’m such an insatiable monster that I would somehow be unable to wait for you to remove it or that I’d do something to hurt you in a way we didn’t both agree to beforehand?”

  Cal shook his head. “No. It’s not that. I can only remove the pump, there will always be something there, attached.”

  “So what? This can’t be about cosmetic reasons. You’ve seen my scars. Surely, you’ve had sex with people with the pump on before.” Cal looked away. “Even if you haven’t, I’m not some fumbling kid who cares about something like you having a medical device on while we have sex. I promise you, it won’t hinder our activities in the least. So, tell me. Is that really what this is about?” Cal shook his head but not in answer to Gideon’s question—more like he was fighting with himself. “Please just speak to me.”

  “Do you know how much pumps cost?” Cal finally snapped, anger contorting his face.

  There it was. This was about money. Of course, it was. How could it not be? Gideon was an idiot. Cal was thinking ahead to when he assumed their arrangement would end. Gideon should have been thinking about the end as well, but the truth was he hadn’t been thinking of Cal leaving him. It hadn’t occurred to him, even though it sh
ould have. “I can’t imagine they’re cheap. But money’s not really an issue for me.”

  “Well, you won’t be here in five weeks. Hell, it's more like four now. What do I do in four weeks when you’re gone and I’m back to living in your parking garage?” Parking garage? When had Cal been sleeping in Gideon’s parking garage? Before he could question him, Cal was talking again. “Maybe I should just go back to working for Hillary because I’d need a hundred jobs to afford the insulin that keeps me alive.”

  Gideon’s nostrils flared at the idea of Cal going back to work for Hillary, at the thought of other men and women touching what was his. “Absolutely not,” Gideon snarled.

  At Cal’s wide eyes, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Cal was worried about money. No. Not money. Safety. He was scared. Of course, he was scared. He’d almost died four days ago because he had no food or shelter or medicine. Gideon was a fucking fool. This was why he never saw the same boy twice. He didn’t know how to be a Daddy long-term. Grant would have been ten steps ahead of Cal’s concerns. He would have already discussed terms and arrangements and contracts.

  He turned towards Cal. “Look at me.”

  Cal sort of flounced in Gideon’s direction, his jaw clenched tight as if he was expecting the worst.

  Gideon cupped his face, forcing his eyes upward. “Listen to me very carefully. I’m not going to let you go without your medications. Ever. You’ll never go without a roof over your head or food in your stomach, whether you’re sharing my bed or not. Do you hear me?”

  Cal’s expression softened somewhat but was still guarded. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I have more money than I know what to do with and I can only donate to so many museums and cancer charities. If I choose to spend my money on you and your health, that’s my business. Okay?”

  “Even if I don’t want to be with you anymore? Even right now? If I wanted to walk away?” Cal asked, clearly testing Gideon.

  The notion of never seeing Cal again punched a hole in Gideon’s chest. He didn’t know what there was between them, but there was clearly something more than just physical. They’d really only been intimate not even a handful of times, but something about Callum just called to Gideon. He had to be sure that Cal really wanted to be with him and wasn’t just afraid of being forced back on the streets. Forced submission was abuse. He wanted a willing power exchange, not a desperate boy scared for his life.

  “Even then. If you need me to put it in writing, I will. Do you want to walk away? Tell me now. I’ll set up an account with my finance manager. There will be restrictions on how much you can spend, obviously, but I’ll make sure your necessities are covered while you finish school and get through college.”

  Cal stared at him, bewildered. “Forget Batman or Superman. You’re secretly Robin Hood or Prince Charming. People like you don’t exist in real life.”

  “Do you want to end our physical relationship?” Gideon asked. Cal shook his head beneath Gideon’s hands. “I need the words, baby. I need you to say it.”

  “No, Daddy.”

  “Are you certain?” Gideon asked, his heart in his stomach.

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Then you tell the educator what you really want so we can go home. Okay?”

  Cal nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I understand you not wanting to trust me or anybody else, but I’m not out to hurt you. I’m really not.”

  “Sometimes, it’s not about what you mean to do,” Cal muttered, deflating into Gideon’s arms and pressing his face into his neck.

  “No, I suppose it’s not.”

  Cal dozed the whole way home, emotionally exhausted from the heated exchange he’d had, first with the educator and then with Gideon. Knowing he’d have what he needed regardless of whether he slept with Gideon or not should have made him feel better, but it made him feel worse, like some kind of charity case or project. Maybe Gideon would consider it a loan? Like, once Cal finished college and had a job, he could start paying Gideon back. If he could get a job. He imagined having a father with a prison record wouldn’t be a big selling feature. Would people know who he was just by name alone?

  He’d already sent out his college applications, making certain to scrub his social media and anything else that connected him with his father, but he wondered if the school would sabotage his chances? They’d already tried to have him kicked out. If it wasn’t for Gideon… Cal didn’t want to think about that.

  Gideon parked in the parking garage not thirty feet from where Cal had slept just a week ago. Once inside, they spoke with the desk, and Gideon requested a card so Cal could access the back entrance and Gideon’s door, letting them know Cal would be staying indefinitely. Indefinitely. Cal liked that word. He could have just said the month.

  Once upstairs, Gideon unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside so Cal could enter before him. Gideon set the plastic bag filled with Cal’s meager belongings and medications on the side table.

  “Shoes off,” Gideon said, slipping out of his shoes.

  Cal did the same, lining up his sneakers beside Gideon’s expensive Italian loafers. Gideon took Cal’s hand and led him to the massive closet that lined the wall beside the bed. He hadn’t noticed it last time he was there. He’d been far too preoccupied with remembering the rules. Inside, the massive closet had been split into two sections. The larger portion contained Gideon’s things, suits and casual clothes, all color-coordinated, rows of shoes neatly stacked in boxes. But a small portion of the closet contained three school uniforms, jeans and t-shirts, sweaters, and even a jacket. There were three pairs of shoes stacked in their own boxes. Gideon pulled open a drawer to show Cal socks and underwear and clothing suitable for sleeping and working out.

  Cal’s eyes filled with tears, but he blinked them back rapidly. He was so grateful, but part of him shriveled up inside—not because he didn’t want to be there but because he felt unworthy. He hadn’t done anything to earn any of this. Still, he couldn’t help but say, “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. There are rules in this house. I expect you to abide by them. Everything has a place. I need to keep the house organized. Shoes come off when you get inside. If you change your clothes, your dirty clothes go in the hamper. If you dirty a glass or plate, you rinse it and it goes in the dishwasher. Our housekeeper, Lu, comes twice a week but not to clean up after us. We’re not here to make her job harder, understood?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” Cal said.

  “You can call me Gideon when we’re not in the bedroom if it makes you more comfortable,” Gideon said casually.

  “Would it make you more comfortable?” Cal asked, genuinely unsure.

  Gideon stopped what he was doing to gaze down at Cal. “No. As long as we’re alone, you can call me Daddy. I like hearing that word on your lips.”

  “Good,” Cal murmured almost to himself. For some reason, calling Gideon Daddy made him feel less like he was taking advantage and more like Gideon genuinely wanted to take care of him. It didn’t exactly make much sense but Cal didn’t care.

  “Sit on the bed. Check your blood sugar and make sure you don’t need to bolus. I have one more thing for you. I’ll be right back.”

  Part of Cal didn’t want anything more from Gideon, but another part smiled at Gideon using a word like bolus. He’d clearly been studying. He synced his phone with his glucose monitor, relieved to find himself still in range.

  Gideon sat beside him, handing him a long black velvet box, like from a jewelry store. Cal frowned but took it, opening it to find a thick silver-linked bracelet with a wide rectangular plate. It was a medical ID bracelet, alerting anybody who saw it that Cal was a Type 1 diabetic.

  Gideon took the bracelet from the box. “Give me your wrist.”

  Cal did as Gideon instructed, shivering at the feel of the cool metal against his wrist. Once in place, Gideon used a small tool to lock it before attempting to pull it past Cal’s arm, seeming
relieved when it wouldn’t pass. “This only comes off with this.” He held up the small tool. “Which means I’m the only one who can remove it. Understand?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Good boy.”

  “I don’t know how many more times I can thank you.”

  Gideon tugged Cal to him. “I didn’t do this for you. I did it for me. I can’t stop thinking about what might have happened to you if you hadn’t had my number saved in your phone. Now, I know nobody can take this from you without effort and that if something happens to you, it will be me they call.”

  Cal was moving without thought, wrapping his arms around Gideon’s neck and kissing him deeply. Gideon’s tongue slipped inside, and Cal sighed, his fingers reaching for the buttons on Gideon’s shirt.

  He grabbed Cal’s wrists. “You just got out of the hospital.”

  “You said last night that it had been far too long since you’d been inside me. I agree. We can be careful. It’s not like I broke a bone or something. My sugars are fine. I have my meds. I have my sensor. See?” He tugged up his shirt to show the tiny button that continually monitored his blood sugar. “I’m not some fragile porcelain doll. Please, Daddy? Please? It’s been so long. I’ve missed you.”

  Gideon groaned, burying his hands in Cal’s hair, pulling him in for another kiss. “Fine, but we go slow tonight. No games. No punishments.”

  Cal whined. “Fine. Just fuck me.”

  Gideon stood, bringing Cal with him, swatting him on the butt through his clothing. “Just because I said no games doesn’t mean you get to mouth off to me. Get undressed and lay on the bed.”

  Cal was already hard and throbbing just from Gideon’s kiss. He couldn’t imagine being able to take anything slow. He was so hungry for his touch. His scent. Just being near him was enough to make him feel desperate.

  He stripped down to nothing, dropping his clothing into the hamper within the open closet, feeling slightly self-conscious about the small sensor attached to his belly. It wasn’t as invasive as the pump, but it was still obvious. Once he was naked, he laid back on the bed, watching as Gideon walked to the dresser, pulled out lube and a condom, and tossed them on the mattress beside Cal.