The Trouble With Boys
Author: jjonaes (Robin)
Overall Rating: Nc-17
Chapter Rating: Pg-13 for sexual talkings about
Summary: By the time most boys were 11, they had already received their Boy. It was not only proper, but it was considered by many to be a necessary asset in a proper young man’s life. The concept of Boy’s isn’t a difficult thing to understand. Proper young men are bombarded with work, stress, and troubles. Sex is something that is scientifically proven to relieve the stresses of the day and with less stress comes longer lives, happier people, and better over all work.
Pairing: Taylor Lautner and Nick Jonas
A/N: I was up until maybe 6am, writing this because I couldn’t sleep. It came to me all at once and I really like the way it’s heading. There will be several chapters to this story, including outtakes and other people’s points of view.
Title: The Trouble with Boys
By the time most boys were 11, they had already received their Boy. It was not only proper, but considered by many to be a necessary asset in a proper young man’s life. The concept of Boy’s isn’t a difficult thing to understand. Proper young men are bombarded with work, stress, and troubles. Sex is something that is scientifically proven to relieve the stresses of the day and with less stress comes longer lives, happier people, and better over all work.
It’s not a surprise to Taylor when his father comes to him and tells him that he’ll be going to the Shelter to pick out his boy, he was expecting it, he just wasn’t expecting it in front of his friends. It wasn’t exactly a secret, and it wasn’t exactly improper to talk about it, but he was embarrassed about it just the same. To be quite honest, Taylor didn’t want a Boy. He was 11 years old, and just now getting over the “girls are yucky” phase of his life and the last thing that he wanted to think about was some dude.
Never the less, he received several excited high fives from his friends and even promised to let them see his Boy when he brought him home. He was the first one to turn 11 and so the first to get his. He just wasn’t as excited as they were.
“But dad, what if I don’t like any of them?” He said as he and his father crossed the street quickly. It was rainy and Harold, their butler, was struggling to keep up with their fast pace as he tried to hold the umbrella over both of them.
“There are thousands of Boy’s at this Shelter, Taylor. You’re bound to like one of them.” His father said for maybe the 12th time that day. Taylor frowned to himself and grunted irritably as the Shelter came into view. He tried to tell himself that it was no big deal and that he’d be able to just lock his Boy in a broom closet or something, but in the back of his mind he knew that wouldn’t happen. Every proper young man had and used their Boy, and if Taylor ever wanted to take over the family business then he would have to be a proper young man.
“Alright, sport, here we are.” His father said, giving him a warm smile and a gentle nudge through the door. The first thing Taylor noticed was the smell. It was a distinctive dirt smell, accompanied by pee, smoke and some other fragrances that he couldn’t place. He scrunched up his nose in disgust and looked up at his dad worried.
“Don’t worry, we’ll give him a bath when we get home.” He said knowingly. They walked up to the desk and his dad spoke with the man for a long time. The man was fat, balding and greasy looking. He had a crooked smile and was very obviously one of the smells that Taylor just couldn’t place. His voice was shrill and creepy and to distract himself from wanting to barf at the sight of him, Taylor turned his attention to some of the cages that were in the room. They had two Boy’s in each of the 4 cages and each Boy was fast asleep. The rags they wore were torn, grey from dirt and wear and carried another one of the smells that Taylor couldn’t place.
“Come on, Son.” His father’s words broke into his thoughts and he was ushered into the back room. The back room was much larger than the front, it was just as smelly, but nearly freezing. There were cages as far as he could see and he looked up at his dad in fear. It was all becoming so real now. He was going to have to choose a Boy from all of this mess. A Boy that would be in his life until they were separated by death, a Boy that could very possibly become second in command in his household, a Boy that he would spend the rest of his life with.
“It’s alright, Taylor. Take your time. Look them over carefully.” His father prodded, smiling warmly. Taylor tried to smile back, but he was pretty sure it was more of a sneer. He took a deep breath and began walking down the narrow path between the cages, taking his time and looking at the Boys. Unlike the Boy’s out front, these Boys were all awake and shivering from the cold. Taylor suspected that they were woken up for his inspection and his heart went out to them. Only one of them was going to benefit from his being there and the rest were just unnecessarily woken up. He pushed the guilt out of his mind and continued looking up and down the cages.
He stopped at several of the Boys and looked at them for a long moment before moving on. The one’s that were catching his eye were kind of skinny, blond haired Boys and it wasn’t until he stopped for a fifth time that his father spoke again. “Taylor, you’re allowed to have them taken out of the cage to inspect them further.”
Taylor pointed to one of the Boys in the far corner. He was quite a bit taller than Taylor, probably a few years older. He had long stringy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. His skin was covered in dirt and he was pale as anyone Taylor had ever seen. He looked at his father for help. He didn’t know what to do now that the Boy was out of the cage. Luckily his father understood and knelt down to help him.
“Do you like the way he looks?” Taylor nodded. “He’s not too tall? Too pale?” Taylor shook his head. “Well let’s see about any body scars, tell him to lift his shirt.” Taylor did as his father said and the Boy lifted the rag that he called a shirt. His body was covered in scars, some old and fading, others fresh and still bleeding. Taylor was taken aback and gave a short, quick shake of his head, and the boy was put back into the cage.
The process happened three more times before Taylor’s attention was caught by a moppy head of curls that seemed so unruly and matted that he thought it was a dog at first. “Can I see him?” He asked, pointing to the Boy that was attached to the curls. This Boy was shorter than Taylor, his body was thin-almost sickly, but his skin was clear under the dirt that painted his face. His eyes were big and brown, his lips a ruby red heart that stood out amongst all of the seemingly gray background.
The Boy didn’t look him right in the eye, he kept his gaze downward until Taylor’s father knelt down and lifted the Boy’s chin. “What do you think?” He asked his son warmly. Taylor wasn’t sure. So far every Boy he had pulled out was taller than him, older, blond, and thin built. But this one was almost the complete opposite, yet he caught his attention. “I like him.” He finally decided, softly.
“He’s a little thin, but we could fix that easily. He’ll be much broader when he gets older.” His father noted, measuring the Boy’s shoulders with his hands. Taylor nodded, his dad was really good at this type of thing, and he appreciated being told what he could expect. “The curls will have to be cut off.” His dad said, lifting mats and letting them fall back onto the boys head. Taylor nodded again and reached his hand out to touch the Boy’s cheek. The Boy flinched slightly but didn’t move away. His skin was soft under Taylor’s touch and he sighed softly when he realized he wasn’t going to be hurt.
“How old is he?” Taylor asked the disgusting man from the front, who had been with them the whole time. The man eyed the Boy and gruffed out a wet “Tell em, Boy.” The boy flinched at the sound of his voice, moving himself slightly closer to Taylor before he whispered out a soft, almost non audible “Ten”.
The disgusting man broke in, “He’ll be eleven within the next five months. We never keep Boy’s much younger.” Taylor wished he would stop speaking. Every time he did, the Boy moved closer to Taylor. He didn’t mind that exactly, he just didn’t like that the gross man was scaring him so much.
“Could I see under your shirt?” Taylor asked the Boy as he already was reaching for the hem of his-rag. The Boy nodded and Taylor lifted the material, peeling it off gently. It was stuck to his skin with blood and sweat and dirt. The Boy hissed slightly as it came up, but was obviously trying to keep quiet. Taylor winced at the sight. He looked from the Boy’s beaten body to his father, his eyes sad and confused.
“Is there a reason this Boy has been so beaten?” His father asked the man. The man grunted. “Well, he obviously won’t eat properly-which is bad for business because no one wants a sick looking Boy. He doesn’t cooperate well with the other Boys either. They probably pound on him a good bit.”
Taylor gave a dirty look to the Boys in the cage and they all looked away. He started to put the rag back down when he realized that the dirt and muck could infect the open wounds. “Is there another shirt I could put on him?” he asked as he gently lifted it off over the Boy’s head. After receiving a rude laugh from the man, Taylor took of his over shirt and placed it on the Boy, helping him button it up before calmly stating “I want him.”
Taylor’s father was not a man to mess with when it came to buying and selling goods. The man originally asked a normal price for the Boy, once they were back in the front where it was a lot warmer. But his father was having none of it. “They Boy is obviously not well cared for, and therefore I will have to spend my hard earned money to get him well again. I’ll pay half.” The haggling went on and Taylor grew bored of listening after a while and went to sit down on the bench. The Boy followed and obediently sat down at his feet, his back facing him.
Taylor reached out and started pawing through the matt and tangle of his hair. “Have you ever washed this stuff?” He said kind of disgusted. The Boy shook his head. “Well, when we get home and it gets cut off, you’re gonna wash it every night.” The Boy nodded.
After a long while, Taylor’s father came over with a smile on his face. He wrapped his arm around his son as he stood up and he hugged him firmly. “Congratulations, son” was all he said.
The first thing they did when they got home was give the Boy a hot meal, and seeing as he scarffed the meal down in no time, Taylor’s father decided to give the doctor a call to see about the boy’s unnatural skinny weight. When he was finished eating his third portion, Taylor showed him up to the room that would be his. The most natural place for a Boy was in his Master’s chambers, but because Taylor was still kind of weirded out by all this, he had the toy room converted into another bedroom.
Until all of the furniture arrived for the room, the only thing that occupied the white walled, one window space, was a dark green cot for the Boy to sleep on. Taylor noticed that the Boy didn’t seem to mind one bit sleeping on a cot as opposed to the hard cold floor of the Shelter and he felt better because he had felt awful thinking of someone sleeping on a cot.
He wanted to make sure the Boy knew where he was so he showed the Boy where his own room was just in case he ever needed him. He knew that at some point in the future he would need to bring the Boy into his room, but for now, he would ignore that fact. They didn’t linger in his bedroom, instead he simply showed him where it was and then went straight for the bathroom, which they could access from his room or from the hall.
“And this is the bathroom. Uhm…we’re gonna go ahead and cut your hair and give you a bath.” Taylor said as they walked into the large bathroom. “This is where you’ll take all of your baths from now on.” He said blushing slightly. “Okay-so strip and I’ll have Jenni come in and bathe you.”
The Boy nodded and did what he was told, stripping down to nothing but his bare arse. Taylor kind of liked the obedience and trust that the Boy had. It was nice to just have someone do what he told them instead of having to explain himself.
When Jenni came in, her eyes were cast downward, and she carried a bucket with a type of special soap that also contained medicine for scars and cuts and bruises, a wash cloth, and a bottle of oil. Taylor stepped next to her and smiled at his Boy to let him know she was nice, “This is Jenni, and she’s responsible for your care and wellbeing from now on.” The Boy nodded at her politely but then blushed red when he saw her eyes scanning his bruised body. She stood for a long time scanning him with her eyes, taking mental notes of which cuts needed stitches, bandages and she even pulled out a notebook she was carrying under her apron and jotted a few things down.
Taylor broke the awkward silence by mentioning that he didn’t want to have his Boy’s hair completely shaven off. “Sir, the Boy’s hair is nothing but matt and dirt, I don’t think there will be any hair left once the tangles and dirt are all cut out.” She said professionally. Taylor persisted. He told her to save as much of his hair as she could and she finally nodded, walking over to the tub and turning the faucet on. She held her hand out for the Boy and helped him step in. Taylor had expected some sort of struggle from him. But he was easy. He let her wash his skin, wincing several times when the cloth came across bruises and cuts, but that was all. He let her wash, cut and then wash his hair again and then let her put soothing oil over his entire body.
He was glad when the Boy was clean. His clear skin was warm and slightly red from the warmth of the water and his hair was a beautiful, shining brown that was much more manageable now that it was mostly cut off and standing only a few inches from his head. Taylor smiled when he was clothed. “Much better.” The Boy beamed at his approval, and Taylor felt butterflies fill his stomach.
It was getting late, and Taylor had promised his friends that they could look at his Boy before they went to school the next day. So he walked the Boy over to his room and stood awkwardly for a moment. He didn’t like the idea of leaving his Boy all alone on his first night at his new home. He tried to put himself into his shoes, and then looked over at him, sitting on the cot, bouncing on it testing. He seemed perfectly fine, but Taylor still wasn’t settled.
“Actually-Tonight I want you to sleep in my room. For-safety.” The Boy stood up unquestioningly and smiled brightly as Taylor led him back into his own room. He shut the door behind them and told the Boy to have a look around while he went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. It was probably the fastest he had ever bathed, brushed his teeth and hair, and changed. When he was finished, he found his Boy staring at an old oil painting of Taylor’s great great grandfather and his Boy.
“That’s my Papu. He died before I was born.” Taylor said gently. The Boy jumped slightly from surprise but quickly returned his attention to the painting. “He was the founder of our family Printing business. And that’s his Boy, Johnny.” He continued, explaining. His Boy listened easily to him explain how Johnny was given half of the family business when Papu died and how that was a huge deal back then because Boy’s weren’t as highly thought of then as they were now.
His Boy smiled when he finished and bit his lip in a way that made Taylor tingle ~down there. He ignored it though, and led him over to his bed. “Alright, hop in.” He said getting in and waiting for his Boy to join. The Boy crawled in cautiously, gasping gently at the soft feel of the bed.
“Have you never slept in a bed before?” Taylor asked, amused when the Boy finally settled comfortably in. The Boy shook his head and jumped slightly from his sitting position, testing the bounciness of the bed, and Taylor laughed. They spent a few moments getting comfortable together, finally deciding on a spooning position with Taylor as the big spoon.
It wasn’t until he was almost half asleep, his arms wrapped snuggle around his new Boy, that Taylor spoke up softly. “What’s your name?” The question was weird to him. He hadn’t once thought of asking the Boy that, but now that he thought about it-it was so odd that he hadn’t asked before.
“Nicholas.” was the sleepy soft reply and the second word that Taylor ever heard the Boy speak.
A/N: Let me know what you thought of it!
Overall Rating: Nc-17
Chapter Rating: Pg-13 for sexual talkings about
Summary: By the time most boys were 11, they had already received their Boy. It was not only proper, but it was considered by many to be a necessary asset in a proper young man’s life. The concept of Boy’s isn’t a difficult thing to understand. Proper young men are bombarded with work, stress, and troubles. Sex is something that is scientifically proven to relieve the stresses of the day and with less stress comes longer lives, happier people, and better over all work.
Pairing: Taylor Lautner and Nick Jonas
A/N: I was up until maybe 6am, writing this because I couldn’t sleep. It came to me all at once and I really like the way it’s heading. There will be several chapters to this story, including outtakes and other people’s points of view.
Title: The Trouble with Boys
By the time most boys were 11, they had already received their Boy. It was not only proper, but considered by many to be a necessary asset in a proper young man’s life. The concept of Boy’s isn’t a difficult thing to understand. Proper young men are bombarded with work, stress, and troubles. Sex is something that is scientifically proven to relieve the stresses of the day and with less stress comes longer lives, happier people, and better over all work.
It’s not a surprise to Taylor when his father comes to him and tells him that he’ll be going to the Shelter to pick out his boy, he was expecting it, he just wasn’t expecting it in front of his friends. It wasn’t exactly a secret, and it wasn’t exactly improper to talk about it, but he was embarrassed about it just the same. To be quite honest, Taylor didn’t want a Boy. He was 11 years old, and just now getting over the “girls are yucky” phase of his life and the last thing that he wanted to think about was some dude.
Never the less, he received several excited high fives from his friends and even promised to let them see his Boy when he brought him home. He was the first one to turn 11 and so the first to get his. He just wasn’t as excited as they were.
“But dad, what if I don’t like any of them?” He said as he and his father crossed the street quickly. It was rainy and Harold, their butler, was struggling to keep up with their fast pace as he tried to hold the umbrella over both of them.
“There are thousands of Boy’s at this Shelter, Taylor. You’re bound to like one of them.” His father said for maybe the 12th time that day. Taylor frowned to himself and grunted irritably as the Shelter came into view. He tried to tell himself that it was no big deal and that he’d be able to just lock his Boy in a broom closet or something, but in the back of his mind he knew that wouldn’t happen. Every proper young man had and used their Boy, and if Taylor ever wanted to take over the family business then he would have to be a proper young man.
“Alright, sport, here we are.” His father said, giving him a warm smile and a gentle nudge through the door. The first thing Taylor noticed was the smell. It was a distinctive dirt smell, accompanied by pee, smoke and some other fragrances that he couldn’t place. He scrunched up his nose in disgust and looked up at his dad worried.
“Don’t worry, we’ll give him a bath when we get home.” He said knowingly. They walked up to the desk and his dad spoke with the man for a long time. The man was fat, balding and greasy looking. He had a crooked smile and was very obviously one of the smells that Taylor just couldn’t place. His voice was shrill and creepy and to distract himself from wanting to barf at the sight of him, Taylor turned his attention to some of the cages that were in the room. They had two Boy’s in each of the 4 cages and each Boy was fast asleep. The rags they wore were torn, grey from dirt and wear and carried another one of the smells that Taylor couldn’t place.
“Come on, Son.” His father’s words broke into his thoughts and he was ushered into the back room. The back room was much larger than the front, it was just as smelly, but nearly freezing. There were cages as far as he could see and he looked up at his dad in fear. It was all becoming so real now. He was going to have to choose a Boy from all of this mess. A Boy that would be in his life until they were separated by death, a Boy that could very possibly become second in command in his household, a Boy that he would spend the rest of his life with.
“It’s alright, Taylor. Take your time. Look them over carefully.” His father prodded, smiling warmly. Taylor tried to smile back, but he was pretty sure it was more of a sneer. He took a deep breath and began walking down the narrow path between the cages, taking his time and looking at the Boys. Unlike the Boy’s out front, these Boys were all awake and shivering from the cold. Taylor suspected that they were woken up for his inspection and his heart went out to them. Only one of them was going to benefit from his being there and the rest were just unnecessarily woken up. He pushed the guilt out of his mind and continued looking up and down the cages.
He stopped at several of the Boys and looked at them for a long moment before moving on. The one’s that were catching his eye were kind of skinny, blond haired Boys and it wasn’t until he stopped for a fifth time that his father spoke again. “Taylor, you’re allowed to have them taken out of the cage to inspect them further.”
Taylor pointed to one of the Boys in the far corner. He was quite a bit taller than Taylor, probably a few years older. He had long stringy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. His skin was covered in dirt and he was pale as anyone Taylor had ever seen. He looked at his father for help. He didn’t know what to do now that the Boy was out of the cage. Luckily his father understood and knelt down to help him.
“Do you like the way he looks?” Taylor nodded. “He’s not too tall? Too pale?” Taylor shook his head. “Well let’s see about any body scars, tell him to lift his shirt.” Taylor did as his father said and the Boy lifted the rag that he called a shirt. His body was covered in scars, some old and fading, others fresh and still bleeding. Taylor was taken aback and gave a short, quick shake of his head, and the boy was put back into the cage.
The process happened three more times before Taylor’s attention was caught by a moppy head of curls that seemed so unruly and matted that he thought it was a dog at first. “Can I see him?” He asked, pointing to the Boy that was attached to the curls. This Boy was shorter than Taylor, his body was thin-almost sickly, but his skin was clear under the dirt that painted his face. His eyes were big and brown, his lips a ruby red heart that stood out amongst all of the seemingly gray background.
The Boy didn’t look him right in the eye, he kept his gaze downward until Taylor’s father knelt down and lifted the Boy’s chin. “What do you think?” He asked his son warmly. Taylor wasn’t sure. So far every Boy he had pulled out was taller than him, older, blond, and thin built. But this one was almost the complete opposite, yet he caught his attention. “I like him.” He finally decided, softly.
“He’s a little thin, but we could fix that easily. He’ll be much broader when he gets older.” His father noted, measuring the Boy’s shoulders with his hands. Taylor nodded, his dad was really good at this type of thing, and he appreciated being told what he could expect. “The curls will have to be cut off.” His dad said, lifting mats and letting them fall back onto the boys head. Taylor nodded again and reached his hand out to touch the Boy’s cheek. The Boy flinched slightly but didn’t move away. His skin was soft under Taylor’s touch and he sighed softly when he realized he wasn’t going to be hurt.
“How old is he?” Taylor asked the disgusting man from the front, who had been with them the whole time. The man eyed the Boy and gruffed out a wet “Tell em, Boy.” The boy flinched at the sound of his voice, moving himself slightly closer to Taylor before he whispered out a soft, almost non audible “Ten”.
The disgusting man broke in, “He’ll be eleven within the next five months. We never keep Boy’s much younger.” Taylor wished he would stop speaking. Every time he did, the Boy moved closer to Taylor. He didn’t mind that exactly, he just didn’t like that the gross man was scaring him so much.
“Could I see under your shirt?” Taylor asked the Boy as he already was reaching for the hem of his-rag. The Boy nodded and Taylor lifted the material, peeling it off gently. It was stuck to his skin with blood and sweat and dirt. The Boy hissed slightly as it came up, but was obviously trying to keep quiet. Taylor winced at the sight. He looked from the Boy’s beaten body to his father, his eyes sad and confused.
“Is there a reason this Boy has been so beaten?” His father asked the man. The man grunted. “Well, he obviously won’t eat properly-which is bad for business because no one wants a sick looking Boy. He doesn’t cooperate well with the other Boys either. They probably pound on him a good bit.”
Taylor gave a dirty look to the Boys in the cage and they all looked away. He started to put the rag back down when he realized that the dirt and muck could infect the open wounds. “Is there another shirt I could put on him?” he asked as he gently lifted it off over the Boy’s head. After receiving a rude laugh from the man, Taylor took of his over shirt and placed it on the Boy, helping him button it up before calmly stating “I want him.”
Taylor’s father was not a man to mess with when it came to buying and selling goods. The man originally asked a normal price for the Boy, once they were back in the front where it was a lot warmer. But his father was having none of it. “They Boy is obviously not well cared for, and therefore I will have to spend my hard earned money to get him well again. I’ll pay half.” The haggling went on and Taylor grew bored of listening after a while and went to sit down on the bench. The Boy followed and obediently sat down at his feet, his back facing him.
Taylor reached out and started pawing through the matt and tangle of his hair. “Have you ever washed this stuff?” He said kind of disgusted. The Boy shook his head. “Well, when we get home and it gets cut off, you’re gonna wash it every night.” The Boy nodded.
After a long while, Taylor’s father came over with a smile on his face. He wrapped his arm around his son as he stood up and he hugged him firmly. “Congratulations, son” was all he said.
The first thing they did when they got home was give the Boy a hot meal, and seeing as he scarffed the meal down in no time, Taylor’s father decided to give the doctor a call to see about the boy’s unnatural skinny weight. When he was finished eating his third portion, Taylor showed him up to the room that would be his. The most natural place for a Boy was in his Master’s chambers, but because Taylor was still kind of weirded out by all this, he had the toy room converted into another bedroom.
Until all of the furniture arrived for the room, the only thing that occupied the white walled, one window space, was a dark green cot for the Boy to sleep on. Taylor noticed that the Boy didn’t seem to mind one bit sleeping on a cot as opposed to the hard cold floor of the Shelter and he felt better because he had felt awful thinking of someone sleeping on a cot.
He wanted to make sure the Boy knew where he was so he showed the Boy where his own room was just in case he ever needed him. He knew that at some point in the future he would need to bring the Boy into his room, but for now, he would ignore that fact. They didn’t linger in his bedroom, instead he simply showed him where it was and then went straight for the bathroom, which they could access from his room or from the hall.
“And this is the bathroom. Uhm…we’re gonna go ahead and cut your hair and give you a bath.” Taylor said as they walked into the large bathroom. “This is where you’ll take all of your baths from now on.” He said blushing slightly. “Okay-so strip and I’ll have Jenni come in and bathe you.”
The Boy nodded and did what he was told, stripping down to nothing but his bare arse. Taylor kind of liked the obedience and trust that the Boy had. It was nice to just have someone do what he told them instead of having to explain himself.
When Jenni came in, her eyes were cast downward, and she carried a bucket with a type of special soap that also contained medicine for scars and cuts and bruises, a wash cloth, and a bottle of oil. Taylor stepped next to her and smiled at his Boy to let him know she was nice, “This is Jenni, and she’s responsible for your care and wellbeing from now on.” The Boy nodded at her politely but then blushed red when he saw her eyes scanning his bruised body. She stood for a long time scanning him with her eyes, taking mental notes of which cuts needed stitches, bandages and she even pulled out a notebook she was carrying under her apron and jotted a few things down.
Taylor broke the awkward silence by mentioning that he didn’t want to have his Boy’s hair completely shaven off. “Sir, the Boy’s hair is nothing but matt and dirt, I don’t think there will be any hair left once the tangles and dirt are all cut out.” She said professionally. Taylor persisted. He told her to save as much of his hair as she could and she finally nodded, walking over to the tub and turning the faucet on. She held her hand out for the Boy and helped him step in. Taylor had expected some sort of struggle from him. But he was easy. He let her wash his skin, wincing several times when the cloth came across bruises and cuts, but that was all. He let her wash, cut and then wash his hair again and then let her put soothing oil over his entire body.
He was glad when the Boy was clean. His clear skin was warm and slightly red from the warmth of the water and his hair was a beautiful, shining brown that was much more manageable now that it was mostly cut off and standing only a few inches from his head. Taylor smiled when he was clothed. “Much better.” The Boy beamed at his approval, and Taylor felt butterflies fill his stomach.
It was getting late, and Taylor had promised his friends that they could look at his Boy before they went to school the next day. So he walked the Boy over to his room and stood awkwardly for a moment. He didn’t like the idea of leaving his Boy all alone on his first night at his new home. He tried to put himself into his shoes, and then looked over at him, sitting on the cot, bouncing on it testing. He seemed perfectly fine, but Taylor still wasn’t settled.
“Actually-Tonight I want you to sleep in my room. For-safety.” The Boy stood up unquestioningly and smiled brightly as Taylor led him back into his own room. He shut the door behind them and told the Boy to have a look around while he went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. It was probably the fastest he had ever bathed, brushed his teeth and hair, and changed. When he was finished, he found his Boy staring at an old oil painting of Taylor’s great great grandfather and his Boy.
“That’s my Papu. He died before I was born.” Taylor said gently. The Boy jumped slightly from surprise but quickly returned his attention to the painting. “He was the founder of our family Printing business. And that’s his Boy, Johnny.” He continued, explaining. His Boy listened easily to him explain how Johnny was given half of the family business when Papu died and how that was a huge deal back then because Boy’s weren’t as highly thought of then as they were now.
His Boy smiled when he finished and bit his lip in a way that made Taylor tingle ~down there. He ignored it though, and led him over to his bed. “Alright, hop in.” He said getting in and waiting for his Boy to join. The Boy crawled in cautiously, gasping gently at the soft feel of the bed.
“Have you never slept in a bed before?” Taylor asked, amused when the Boy finally settled comfortably in. The Boy shook his head and jumped slightly from his sitting position, testing the bounciness of the bed, and Taylor laughed. They spent a few moments getting comfortable together, finally deciding on a spooning position with Taylor as the big spoon.
It wasn’t until he was almost half asleep, his arms wrapped snuggle around his new Boy, that Taylor spoke up softly. “What’s your name?” The question was weird to him. He hadn’t once thought of asking the Boy that, but now that he thought about it-it was so odd that he hadn’t asked before.
“Nicholas.” was the sleepy soft reply and the second word that Taylor ever heard the Boy speak.
A/N: Let me know what you thought of it!