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It wasn’t as if this was the first time this happened to Todd. He remembered subtle little things from his past that his mind would later over-analyze in bed as he waited to fall asleep. Little things that perplexed him as a young boy, but now as an adult he understood fairly well.
He refused to allow these things to come to light though, to show any inkling of his internal desires, feelings, whatever—to the outside world. If Uncle Jack found out, well… He had heard the man and his boys talk with disdain about “faggots,” and “pussy ass bitches,” men who liked other men like Todd seemed to like them. He wasn’t too keen on disappointing anyone like that, much less Uncle Jack. And the world may be different, but Uncle Jack was the same, and those kinds of things weren’t good, not to Uncle Jack, so they weren’t good to Todd.
But still, he couldn’t help but analyze it. What exactly was the problem? The problem with being a “faggot”? Was it because only men and women could have children? Uncle Jack didn’t much like children though, and sometimes bringing kids into the world wasn’t the best idea for some regular-like couples, ones made of men and women. So that didn’t make sense. Was it because a man liking another man made him less of a man? But how exactly did that work? Is there something in the brain of a man who likes men that makes him not a man, or less of a man? By all accounts, men who liked men seemed to be just as much men as any other man.
Todd just couldn’t rationalize it. He often argued himself into various corners of his mind and more often than not just decided to stop thinking on it and go to sleep, or think of something else.
Thing is, what was most confusing to Todd was that, growing up, while he found that he felt good with other boys—some more than others—and while he relished in those feelings of belonging and tranquility and rightness that interacting with boys provided him, he also felt similar feelings with girls too. These feelings didn’t go away or diminish as he grew from a boy to a man either, in fact they intensified, going from a vague feeling of comfort and rightness to outright attraction and desire.
So he wasn’t a man who liked men, because he also liked women, but he wasn’t a man who liked women, because he also liked men. He liked both, and where exactly did that leave him? He liked to think himself introspective, but this was hard to grasp. Like many things that went on in his own mind though, he had no trouble hiding them from the outside. Uncle Jack didn’t need to know. And while he had great respect for Walter White, he certainly didn’t need to know and wouldn’t care to while he was around. No one needed to know this.
Well, no one needed to know about both facets of his attraction. Everyone in Uncle Jack’s gang just assumed he liked women, just like they did, and not men, so he let them believe that. It wasn’t a lie; it just wasn’t the whole truth.
But it became increasingly harder to hide this one side of himself—his attraction to males, especially from the male object of his desire. It didn’t help that he was also experiencing duel attraction to a female object of desire at the same time.
The difference in appearance and general temperament between these two objects of desire also left Todd with some proverbial whiplash, or something. He thought his attraction, though not consistent in sex, would be consistent in aesthetics or personality or… or… or something. But it wasn’t.
Ms. Quayle was all hard and sharp angles and haughty and know-it-all (or perhaps similar but slightly different “know-it-better”) and stunningly beautiful and untouchable. Todd wanted her to tell him what to do. He wanted to make her proud, to show her he was worthy, of… something or other. He wanted to preserve her untouchable nature.
With the male object of his desire, it was different, ridiculously so.
Jesse was soft, malleable, vulnerable, dirty, childlike, and pathetic. Jesse’s thoughts seemed to always show on his face, big pretty blue round eyes trying their hardest to be intimidating under dirty blond eyebrows. Todd wanted to bring him ice cream just to make his day, to see that little glance his way, marred with trepidation. He wanted to make Jesse cry just so he could be the one to comfort him. When Uncle Jack or one of the other boys would take to messing with him, making Jesse hurt himself, or hurting his loved ones, making Jesse weep like a baby, Todd wanted nothing more than to take him into his arms and hold the poor boy. Jesse was small. Jesse needed protecting. Jesse was salt-of-the-earth in how he expressed himself, how he existed, contrasted to Ms. Quayle, who seemed hellbent on being enigmatic. Where Ms. Quayle always seemed to know what she wanted, Jesse seemed only to know what he didn’t want, and that was to be locked up.
That was a whole different can of worms, something Todd had already settled months ago. This was best for everyone. Why should Todd feel bad, exactly? He isn’t the one locked up. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel a stab of pain shooting somewhere in his chest when he looked at Jesse. He supposed this was his attraction manifesting itself into feelings of caring.
It kind of sucked, honestly. He didn’t want to feel bad, especially not every time he had to look at Jesse. He’d rather just feel attraction to his body than feel pity for his situation. It was a tough predicament for Todd, one that he bared silently.
Sometimes though, he would get a little bit of a touch in, a little feel. He would pat Jesse on his filthy face, treating him like a dog as he praised his ability to behave on their adventure out to his apartment, when Jesse helped him clean up his house keeper’s body. He felt a twinge of excitement run down his spine as he wrapped his arm around Jesse, both at having gotten to touch the smaller man’s tiny frame, and at the fact that he just disarmed the man after he could have easily taken his revenge on Todd. The extent of Jesse’s brokenness exhilarated Todd.
He promised himself he wouldn’t let it get to the point where any of the others would know. But it just got harder and harder not to touch him with each passing day, each night leaving Jesse more tired and broken and pathetic than the last. He seemed to shrink in on himself, becoming thinner, smaller, and that pulled at Todd in a sickeningly sweet way.
It was one such night when Jesse was particularly tired that Todd decided he wanted a little more than just to pat the boy on the cheek, more than wrapping his arm around his skinny shoulder. He was determined to get a kiss. Or give a kiss, since he assumed Jesse wouldn’t be up for a mutual lip-lock any time soon.
“Hey, it’s been a while since I cleaned you up. I promised I’d do better, remember? Come on,” he stopped Jesse as he was making his way back toward his cage, his chains clattering between his hands and feet.
Usually, Todd would have Jesse strip next to the main building, and he’d just spray him off haphazardly with the hose. One time, the other members of the gang decided it had been too long that Todd had done this, so they shoved Jesse against the wall and sprayed him with the pressure washer. Todd always tried to remember to clean him more often after that.
This time was different though. Todd was on a mission. This time, he led Jesse to the kitchenette in the main building. For whatever reason, the kitchenette had a bathroom with a shower in it. It used to be more of a condo or some shit. There was an pile of old gym equipment from the seventies in that building, so maybe that was why. Either way, it came in handy at times and was used somewhat frequently.
“This way,” Todd led him toward the main building, Jesse’s feet and hands still jangling their chains. Todd took great clandestine pleasure in the quiver of Jesse’s shoulders under his guiding hand.
When Jesse hesitated at the door, knowing he would usually encounter the others in this building, Todd pushed him through, causing him to stumble a bit over the bottom sill of the doorway.
“Hey, watch it?”
“There’s no one else here. I’m taking you to get washed, Jesse, please do as I say.”
“I am, don’t push me, bitch,” Jesse lethargically replied, letting that last word slip out under his breath.
He may be several years older, but Todd felt this boy was quite a good bit younger than him in how emotionally volatile he was. Little to no control. Though, if he was being honest, that was one of the reasons Todd liked him so much.
The pair made their way to the back, where the bathroom was. He unlocked Jesse’s cuffs from around his feet, but left the ones on his hands in place. The boy was dead on his feet, so tired he could barely keep his eyes open, not to mention the fact that Todd had at least two inches on him, and weighed a considerable amount more, so he wasn’t really worried about Jesse overpowering him. But Todd decided he wanted to keep them on for this next part.
He allowed Jesse to strip, helping him get his clothes off around the handcuffs when needed, and turned the water on. Jesse lingered only for a minute before stepping under the warm spray. His back was to Todd, and he could see the way Jesse’s muscles jumped then eased out at the touch of the water. Very nice.
There was some shampoo on the tiled floor. Todd grabbed the bottle and squirted out a generous amount, lathering it between both hands. Getting close to Jesse without getting hit by the spray of the shower was too difficult, so Todd just said fuck it. His arms and front would be wet. Big deal. It would be worth it.
Jesse’s head was down, seemingly in a daze as he let the water run over his body. His hair was soaked through, so Todd went to work, carefully at first, unsure if maybe there was some injury under the hair he didn’t know about. It seemed these days Jesse was covered in them.
Jesse didn’t react at first to the fingers in his hair, so Todd continued, massaging slowly, almost intimately. Then, all of a sudden, Jesse jumped a bit, as though shaken out of his daze. He whipped around, hands coming up to pull at Todd’s, “I can do it myself!” The chain from his hands dangled in his own face.
Todd wasn’t discouraged and continued to massage Jesse’s scalp, enjoying this new vantage point where he could see Jesse’s face, where a war was playing out, awkward discomfort fighting with bliss at the feeling of Todd’s fingers in his hair.
This continued for a few more minutes before Todd realized the shampoo was effectively washed out of Jesse’s hair and he was now just rubbing the boy’s scalp for no reason. He removed his hands.
He searched his pocket briefly and located the key to Jesse’s cuffs. Todd unlocked them and put them on his belt loop for later. He supposed he should let Jesse wash himself a bit now. He had good fun.
“Hey! Why didn’t you take those off before?!” Jesse shouted, hands rubbing at his bruised wrists.
“Because I wanted to wash your hair,” Todd replied, searching for the soap on the floor. Had he been looking at Jesse’s face, he would have seen an expression of “WTF.”
Todd broke the bar of soap in half, handing one of the halves to Jesse, “wash your front, I’ll do your back.”
“I can do it myself, asshole!”
“You can’t properly reach those wounds on your back,” Todd responded with a tone of finality.
Jesse seethed, but when Todd pushed him to turn around he made no verbal complaints.
Jesse’s back was littered with scars and fresh wounds. This is something Todd was against, though he couldn’t tell the others that. He recalls the most recent day Uncle Jack had one of his men give these to Jesse. Todd hadn’t been around to see the other times, and he was glad he wasn’t; Jesse was wailing so hard he was struggling to breathe. Jesse’s tears were some type of attractive to Todd, but this was just brutal to watch and gave him no pleasure. He felt a sickening feeling burning through his guts watching it happen, though he made no move to stop it.
Jesse gasped, bringing Todd back to the present moment. His hands had wondered over Jesse’s back, settling on a rather large abnormality beneath the skin, seemingly within his muscles. Todd supposed it was a knot or something, the kind fancy people go to chiropractors for. Todd had had them before, all it took to get rid of them was some attention, he usually got rid of them with his own hands. But Jesse didn’t seem capable of doing so, with his injuries, so Todd resolved he would continue his ministrations to the area.
Jesse in turn continued to make noises, little bits of sound slipping out. Todd ate them up. Jesse’s legs were shaking, whether from the stimulation or because he was tired to his bones, Todd wasn’t sure, but eventually he had to stop and turn off the water otherwise he feared Jesse would pass out right there.
He retrieved Jesse’s clothes and a towel, giving the latter to the boy to dry off. Jesse did so in silence, his skin so different from how it was just minutes ago. So clean.
Todd gave him back his clothes and he dressed in silence too, sitting on the dry area of the room to put his socks and shoes on again. Todd sat down next to him, holding out the hand and leg cuffs. Jesse sat still as the leg cuffs were locked into place.
When Jesse offered his hands to be cuffed, Todd leaned in close, pushing the wet hair from his forehead, and kissed him gently on the forehead. It was over in a second, and he immediately put the handcuffs in place, locking them into position without further pause.
Todd stood up, preparing to lead Jesse back to his cage for the night, eyes seeking Jesse’s face only when he realized the other wasn’t following suit. Jesse looked up at him from the floor, his face a mix of confusion and fear.
Todd didn’t offer any explanation, just grabbed his forearm and lifted him as gently as he could.
When he closed the cage door, before putting the tarp over the opening, he stared down at Jesse for several moments. Jesse stared back up at him, his expression the same as before.
Todd smiled, remembering the soft skin of Jesse’s forehead on his lips. He knew that when he analyzed this interaction tonight while he was waiting for sleep to take him, he would enjoy it.
“Goodnight, Jesse.”
Jesse continued to stare up at him until the tarp covered him. it was only when walking away that Todd heard a timid “goodnight, Todd,” from below.
His feelings for men were different than his feelings for women, but no less strong, as proven by how his heart seemed to skip a beat at the sound of Jesse’s confused rough voice.