Chapter 4: Casual Manipulation
The next morning, Zach found Richard already in the kitchen, humming along to some soft jazz as he expertly diced vegetables. The scent of garlic and herbs hung in the air, a stark contrast to the stale smells of the streets he was used to. "Morning, sleepyhead," Richard greeted, not turning around. "Sleep well?"
Zach rubbed the sleep from his eyes, leaning against the doorframe. "Yeah, man, the best sleep I've had in ages. Thanks again for everything." He glanced at the array of colorful vegetables on the cutting board. "Whatcha making?"
"Pasta primavera," Richard replied, finally turning around with a smile. "Thought we could use something light and healthy after all that lasagna. You hungry?"
"Always," Zach chuckled, pulling up a stool to the counter. He watched Richard's deft movements, the way he handled the knife with precision and grace. "You're a pretty good cook, huh?"
Richard chuckled, tossing the diced carrots into a sizzling pan. "Years of practice, my friend. A man's gotta eat, right? Especially when he's living alone." He paused, his eyes meeting Zach's for a brief moment before turning back to the stove. "It gets lonely sometimes, you know?" Zach nods. "I'm going to go take a shower while you finish up. Maybe you can teach me sometime"
Without looking away from the vegetables, Richard casually remarks, "Sure, we can try tonight" before adding "It's going to be hot out, those shorts I bought you would be a good choice today." "K" Zach threw over his shoulder as he walked to his room.
Zach paused at his bedroom door, his hand hovering over the knob. The air felt heavier now, like the walls were leaning in. He glanced back toward the kitchen, where Richard’s silhouette moved against the soft glow of the stove light. Was this just kindness, or was there something else? His stomach twisted as he stepped inside and shut the door.
The shower was already running when he stripped off his clothes, the steam curling around him like a fog. He stepped under the spray, letting the water scald his skin. Richard’s words bounced in his head—“It gets lonely sometimes.” Was it a confession? A warning? Zach scrubbed at his arms, trying to wash away the unease that clung to him.
He dried off quickly, the towel rough against his skin. The shorts Richard had bought him were folded neatly on the bed, the fabric soft and expensive. He pulled them on, the waistband snug against his hips. The mirror caught his reflection, and he froze. Clean-shaven, dressed in clothes that cost more than his old backpack, he looked like someone else entirely. Someone Richard had made.
Back in the kitchen, the pasta was done, the sauce a vibrant green that smelled like herbs and garlic. “Smells amazing,” Zach said, his voice too loud in the quiet room.
Richard handed him a plate, piled high with pasta. “Dig in. And tell me what you think of the shorts.”
Zach took a bite, the flavors exploding in his mouth. “Holy shit, this is incredible. You should open a restaurant.” He glanced down at the shorts, tugging at the hem. “They’re cool, man. Thanks.”
Richard leaned against the counter, his eyes lingering. “They look good on you. You’ve got the legs for them.” His tone was casual, but the way he said “legs” made Zach’s skin prickle.
He looked down at his plate, shoving another forkful of pasta into his mouth. “So, uh, what’s on the agenda for today?”
“Doctor’s appointment,” Richard said, stirring the sauce. “Just a check-up, make sure you’re all healthy and all that.”
Zach frowned. “I feel fine. Do I really need to go?”
Richard shrugged, his expression unreadable. “It’s just a precaution. Besides, I already made the appointment. And I’m driving.”
The doctor’s office was cold, the walls a sterile white that made Zach’s skin crawl. He sat on the examination table, the paper crinkling beneath him as the doctor poked and prodded. Every touch felt intrusive, like he was being stripped down to nothing.
As the doctor left the room, Richard stepped closer, his voice low. “Everything okay?”
Zach nodded, avoiding his eyes. “Fine.”
“I’ll wait outside,” Richard said, his hand lingering on the doorframe for a moment before he disappeared.
After the appointment, Richard drove them to a boutique, the kind of place Zach would’ve never stepped foot in before. “Pick out whatever you want,” Richard said, his tone light but firm. Zach protested, but Richard waved him off. “I like spoiling you.”
Zach tried on a silk shirt, the fabric sliding over his skin like water. He caught Richard’s reflection in the mirror, watching him with an intensity that made his chest tighten. Was this generosity, or something else?
Back at the house, Richard stood at the stove, stirring a pot of sauce. “You know, Zach,” he said, his voice casual, “I really appreciated you wearing those jeans the other day. They looked fantastic on you.”
Zach stirred the pasta sauce, his back to Richard. The words hung in the air, heavy and loaded. Was it a compliment, or a test? He could feel Richard’s gaze on him, sharp and unrelenting.
Richard stepped closer, his hand brushing against Zach’s lower back. “You’ve got a good figure, kid. You should show it off more.”
Zach froze, the spoon still in the sauce. His heart hammered in his chest, but he didn’t move. Richard’s hand lingered, his breath warm against Zach’s neck.
“Relax,” Richard murmured, his voice low and smooth. “I’m just saying you’re beautiful. That’s all.”
Zach’s throat tightened, his grip on the spoon turning white-knuckled. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. Richard’s hand slid lower, resting on the curve of his hip.
“You’re safe here, Zach,” Richard whispered, his lips brushing against Zach’s ear. “You can trust me.”
Zach’s breath hitched, his body betraying him as a shiver ran down his spine. He didn’t pull away, didn’t move. He just stood there, trapped between the stove and Richard’s body, his mind racing.
Richard’s hand moved again, slipping beneath the waistband of Zach’s shorts. “Let me take care of you,” he murmured, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of Zach’s hip.
Zach’s eyes squeezed shut, his heart pounding in his ears. He didn’t know if this was right, didn’t know if he wanted it. But he didn’t stop it, either.
Richard’s lips pressed against the nape of Zach’s neck, his breath hot and wet. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled, his hand tightening on Zach’s hip. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you.”
Zach’s body trembled, his knees threatening to give out. He leaned back against Richard, his head spinning. He didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t know where this was going. But for the first time in a long time, he felt wanted.
And that was enough to make him stay.