Hesitant Heart

by Morticia Knight

  “Hey, you lazy, useless boys! What’s going on in here?”

  Bob Larsen, the manager, stormed into the room and grabbed David by the collar of his shirt, yanking him back as he did. David howled in protest.

  “Well? I asked you both a question.”

  His boss had barked out the words, his face reddening, his lips twisted in a menacing snarl.

  “Sorry, sir.” David’s tone had miraculously changed into one of sweetness and compliance. “I should have come to you first, but Smith had me so upset by what he said, I couldn’t help myself.”

  “What? I never—”

  “Quiet!” Bob loosened his hold on David. “What’d he say?”

  David glanced at him sideways and Sam didn’t miss the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

  “Sam was telling me how he was too good to go with the men to the private rooms and that if he ever did, he would keep all the money anyway.”

  “He’s lying, Mr Larsen. I never said—”

  A stinging slap across his face knocked his head to the side. He covered his injured cheek with one hand, refusing to give in to the urge to cry. It had been a while since he’d been hit in the face and after leaving home, he’d hoped it would never happen again. He chanced a peek at Mr Larsen.

  “Don’t you sass me, you little street urchin,” Mr Larsen growled. “Now listen, Smith, that fella who’s been eyeing you is in the main steam room with Saul Liebowitz, the regular. If you don’t get him to take you to one of the private rooms today, I don’t ever want to see you in here again. And since you don’t want your pride hurt by taking money to let him fuck you, for your first time you can give the whole ten bucks to me. Got it?”

  Sam’s eyes went wide. He was terrified. Confused. How could the beautiful man fuck him? It reminded him of some of the things Louis had told him on the ride down the coast that had also been confusing. He knew what that word meant. It was how his cousin Andrew had gotten the neighbor girl Molly pregnant when they were both only sixteen. They’d had what his father had said was a ‘shotgun wedding’. Sam didn’t remember seeing any shotguns when they got married, so he figured his father must have been mistaken. The memory was upsetting to him for another reason, but he didn’t have time to worry about it right then. He had other more immediate problems.

  Mr Larsen grabbed him roughly by his upper arm and dragged him toward the exit of the changing area.

  “Here’s some fresh towels. Now get in there and do your goddamned job.”

  His legs shook so much, he wasn’t sure he could walk on them. He gulped in air, his breath coming in short pants as he carried the neatly folded towels in front of him as if they were a sacrificial offering. He’d thought he’d loved his job, but not anymore. The terror in him was so sharp that any of the good parts of it had been wiped away.

  As he approached the closed door of the room that contained the man he’d fantasized would want him for more than sex, he caught a sob in his throat. He would take whatever wages he still had and leave town first thing. Louis had been right. Hollywood was a very bad place. Men didn’t love one another because they wanted to love. They only did it for the right price.

  He bumped the latch down with his elbow, a practiced move that he’d used since his first day working at the bathhouse. Trembling, he crept inside, his eyes cast down. His cheeks flushed from within and not from the high temperature. The heat was oppressive. He was certain it was no different than usual, but Sam couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

  “Ah, splendid. Our favorite towel boy is here.”

  Without looking, Sam recognized the voice of the older man. Saul? That’s what Mr Larsen had said.

  “That he is. Young man, would you bring us some fresh towels please?”

  “S-sure.”

  He didn’t feel right. He wasn’t sure if it was the steam, the heat, his nerves or everything all mixed up together. Even though his feet seemed as if they were made of giant rocks, Sam forced himself to go in the direction of the two men, go toward the strong gentle voice of the man he was supposed to give himself to.

  With his gaze still cast down, the first thing he saw was the feet of the beautiful man. There was a fine layer of hair covering the top of them, dark and alluring against the man’s ivory skin. He tracked the path of the hair up the long legs that were lean, yet sculpted. Sam inhaled sharply at the sight of his full sac, the magnificent view of his manhood.

  It was then that he raised his eyes and locked them for the first time with the man of his fantasies. There was a kindness in his expression, the barest hint of a smile. Sam swayed. Right as the room fell away, he saw the look on the man’s face change to one of fear.

  Chapter Two

  Aaron cradled the sweet, unconscious boy in his arms. The young man had been eyeing him rather blatantly from the moment Aaron had first noticed him working at the bathhouse. He seemed so innocent, yet it wasn’t possible being that he worked in such an establishment. Towels were never the main reason the patrons of the Temple of Eros availed themselves of the services of the fetching boys who were employed there. Unfortunately, the small lad was likely no different than the others who worked at the barely veiled queer brothel. Instead, he was gifted with the appearance of being untouched and also seemingly possessed of the incredible ability to act as if he were completely pure.

  Perhaps I should have Saul introduce him to his good friend, Vincent, the studio fellow.

  A moan escaped the lips of the boy as he stirred in Aaron’s arms, yet he didn’t awake.

  Such a pretty little thing. Awful the way someone so young has already been corrupted.

  There was a twinge in Aaron’s gut as he thought of the many men he’d paid to have sex with him, to submit to him. But he’d never taken anyone’s innocence. He’d only sought out older, more experienced prospects. In his early years before Prohibition had taken effect, he’d patronized bars where homosexual men were known to gather. Then it had been the pansy clubs where he’d found those who made themselves available for all manner of pleasures.

  Other than that, the only time his needs had been truly met was when he’d belonged to a sadomasochism club. He thanked the heavens that he’d met Saul years before and that his friend had guided him to the private home of the Hampton Road Club in nearby San Marino.

  The men he’d hired over the years had repeatedly remarked that they couldn’t understand why he had to pay for their services when in their minds he was very attractive. However, once he’d tied them up and made their asses red, it had become quite clear to them why that was the case. And even though the men he played with at the Hampton Road Club and other such establishments were of a like mind, most of them wanted a variety of partners. It had all conspired to reinforce the fact that he would always remain alone and unloved. Indulging in his proclivities at least offered a temporary respite.

  The boy stirred again, and this time his lids fluttered open. He appeared confused then frightened as he peered up at Aaron. There was an immediate tension in his body.

  “Ah, you’re back with us.” Aaron smiled in reassurance. “Can you sit up?”

  The only response Aaron received was a continued stare from the large doe-like eyes of the obviously terrified towel boy. His beautiful aquamarine eyes…

  “Come on now. Saul’s gone to get some help…”

  Aaron frowned as the young man trembled and shook his head, still seemingly unable to speak. His head lolled to the side and Aaron feared he might pass out once more. It had to be the heat of the room. Aaron pressed his hand lightly to his chest.

  “Breathe. You’ll make yourself faint again. How can I find out your name if you do that?”

  A whoosh of air came from the boy and he gulped in more. He exhaled forcefully again and in and out until his breathing became regular.

  “There we are, much better. Let’s get you out of this dreadful heat.”

  Aaron rose gracefully to his feet, dragging his charge along with him. He resisted and Aa
ron paused. It would have been no effort to force the boy to go where Aaron wanted, but he had no interest in doing that. There was obviously something that the young man was very upset about and Aaron was determined to find out what it was without frightening him any further.

  “S-sir, wait. I need to get you a towel to cover yourself.”

  This is what’s bothering him?

  It seemed unlikely, but Aaron was willing to tread carefully with him until he calmed down some more.

  “I’m sure all the patrons of this purportedly elegant bathhouse have seen one or two danglers in their time, so don’t fret upon my account.”

  Aaron had his arm around the skinny little thing and once again advanced them toward the door of the steam room.

  “Are…are you taking me to a private room?”

  The trembling and tension increased and a realization slammed into Aaron. The boy was a terrible actor and his purity was genuine. Aaron stopped and angled the young man’s body to face him, holding one shoulder to keep him there. Grasping his chin gently and raising it, Aaron waited until the boy’s eyes met his own.

  “Is that what you think? That I want to pay you for your sexual favors?”

  Watching in dismay as he nodded, his lip quivering, Aaron wondered if any jury would really mind all that much if Aaron strung up the bathhouse manager. The act would have to be a service to society, after all.

  “That’s not going to happen, understand? You’re not going to do anything you don’t want to do and I’m not going to molest you in any way. But I must insist we leave this room. The temperature is beginning to get to me as well.”

  The door opened and Saul entered along with the hostile looking manager. Aaron bent down to whisper in the young man’s ear.

  “Trust me.”

  Incredibly, the boy completely relaxed and moved closer to his side. The manager gave the towel boy a quick glare before turning to Aaron.

  “Mr Rubenstein, I do apologize. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Get away from Mr Rubenstein. You’re fired.”

  Aaron felt the boy buckle and Aaron clutched him tightly to his body so that he wouldn’t collapse again.

  “Such a shame. And here I was looking forward to his company this afternoon.”

  The manager arched his eyebrows and straightened up. “Oh, beg pardon. Of course.” He lifted the corners of his mouth into a gruesome fake grin. “Whatever pleases you, sir.”

  “Excellent. Right now it would please me to escape the suffocating heat of this room.”

  The manager gestured for them to go ahead and as he passed Saul, he noted the narrowing of his eyes. Saul knew him well enough to know that Aaron never hired the young boys at the bathhouse. Once they’d exited, Aaron turned to the manager, his arm still loosely draped around the towel boy’s shoulder.

  “I would like the nicest room you have, along with some seltzer water. Is there any fruit available? I’m wrung dry.”

  “Absolutely, Mr Rubenstein. Will Mr Liebowitz be joining you both?”

  “Not today, I’m afraid. I want this delectable creature all to myself.” Aaron regarded Saul and gave him a wink, the action hidden from the manager’s view. “Another time, perhaps?”

  Saul snorted then seemed to regain his composure. “Ah, well. I suppose I’m being given the bum’s rush then, eh?” Saul gestured to the towel wrapped around his hips. “If you will all excuse me, I do believe I’ll change into some grander duds and be on my way.”

  Aaron acknowledged Saul again then turned back to the detestable manager.

  “Lead the way. I’m quite anxious to enjoy my afternoon.”

  The gleeful expression on the bathhouse manager’s face nauseated Aaron. He was accustomed to unabashed expressions of lust. When he played at the clubs, there were many public performances that he’d enjoyed viewing. He’d taken part in very few, really—only when he bound someone or showed off one of his more creative punishments. But his passions were his own. He never touched a man sexually in front of others. It was a sacred moment that he only shared with his partner. Even if it was only a fantasy that he and the other person were actually connecting on a deeper level, the only way to achieve that illusion was if it was a private encounter.

  “Here you go, Mr Rubenstein, sir. I’m available for anything you need—anything at all.” He leaned in and whispered, “Sometimes I’ve been asked to hold them down when they’re too shy, if you get my meaning.” He grunted in a way that almost sounded like a chuckle. “Makes it easier to take what you want.”

  Bile rose in Aaron’s throat. He’d been battling it from the moment he’d become aware of what was actually going on with the manager and the young man. As soon as he made sure the boy was safe, he planned to have a discussion with Saul about the situation at the bathhouse. Saul seemed to know many well-placed people. It would likely be a simple matter to remove from management the vile man standing before him who barely passed as human.

  The towel boy whimpered. He was also back to trembling and, from what Aaron could tell, not breathing.

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  The odd look on the manager’s face was likely due to Aaron’s decreasing ability to mask the disgust he felt. Mr Larsen nodded without a word and proceeded down the hall. As soon as they were situated and the water and fruit had been provided, Aaron turned to the young man sitting on the edge of the small, serviceable bed. The rest of the darkened room contained a short wooden stand, a basin of water, a jar of Vaseline and yet more towels. The only light was from two wall sconces that had been electrified—their glow illuminating the bed area. The boy’s stare remained fixed on the floor and he clutched at the bottle of water that was still plugged by the stopper, nervously fiddling with the foil label.

  Aaron dragged over a bentwood chair that was tucked in the corner until it faced the towel boy. He was careful to place it a few feet back from him, so as not to frighten him any further. Still naked, Aaron lowered himself onto the seat then crossed his long legs, relaxing as he draped one arm over the back of the chair. He noted the blush creep up the boy’s face. Aaron was certain that his nudity made him uncomfortable.

  “Would you rather that I cover myself?”

  Aaron’s tone was typically easy and gentle, but he habitually lapsed into the more soothing one that he used when he was with a partner. Not that he thought of his charge as a partner, but he did wish to calm his fears.

  The young man chewed at his lip as he flitted his eyes around the room. He briefly allowed his gaze to land on Aaron’s flaccid cock and full sac that were perched saucily between his legs, held aloft by one thigh pressing against the other.

  “I…no…” The blush deepened. “I mean…whatever you prefer.”

  “I’d prefer that you weren’t so frightened of me.”

  The boy jerked his head up. “I-I’m sorry. I do trust you, really. You’re very nice, but this is all so…” He swallowed. “Confusing.”

  Aaron frowned in aggravation. What had that monster done to him? How could such an innocent have found himself in his current position? Aaron had an overwhelming desire to find out all he could about the sweet thing who had crossed his path.

  Aaron took in a deep breath. “Let’s start over, shall we? My name is Aaron Rubenstein. And you are…?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Sam. Sam, uh, Smith.”

  Resisting the urge to chuckle at the obviously fraudulent surname, Aaron continued. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sam Smith.”

  Aaron offered his hand. Sam stared at as if he were wondering what to do. He tentatively reached his small hand out and took it. It caught Aaron by surprise when Sam lightly stroked Aaron’s skin with his thumb. His cock twitched and he wondered if he should have covered himself after all. Reluctantly, Aaron loosened his grip before letting go, but then he made certain to clasp his fingers together in his lap in case his arousal continued to increase.

  “Now that we have the formalities out of the way and we have been pro
perly introduced… What in the devil’s name caused you to end up in this pesthole?”

  Sam continued to worry the label on his untouched water. He scrunched up his nose and brushed a finger underneath it swiftly, as if he had an itch. He was rather adorable, but that was beside the point. Aaron couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Give me that blasted thing.” Aaron had his hand outstretched, gesturing with his fingers.

  “Of course, sir. Whatever you want.”

  Aaron’s breath hitched. He never should have uncovered his lap, but he would rectify that soon enough. As Sam handed over the bottle, Aaron noted that he had seemed to relax somewhat. He also openly stared at Aaron in wonder, as if he wasn’t sure that he was real. After opening the water, he handed it back to Sam.

  “Drink up. You’ve had quite a shock and I fear you’re dehydrated.”

  Doing his best to subtly move the jar of paste behind the basin and out of sight, Aaron retrieved his own water. He was rather dehydrated himself. They sat in silence for another minute or so, Aaron regarding Sam.

  Not that he was considering such a thing, but Sam was smaller than the men he typically partnered with. Also, much younger than usual. Not since he’d been a lad himself had he dallied with anyone younger than twenty-five. And even back then, many of his lovers had been older than him. The wide-eyed innocence he’d noticed the first time Sam had attended to him in the steam room struck him differently now that he knew the validity of it. His straight brown hair had highlights of blond and it was in need of a trim. He had a pert nose above his sweet, bow-shaped lips. With skin as pale as Sam’s, it struck Aaron that he couldn’t come from circumstances that required him to work outdoors doing any manner of manual labor. But where did he come from?

  “Sam, answer my question please. How did you end up here? Where are you from?”

  “From…up north. The man who gave me a ride helped me to get this job.”