Sacred & Profane Love, Baglione, 1602
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In an ideal world, when a child receives a phone call from their parents they would expect to hear good news and as a result feel joy. In a realistic world, they expect news, but they can't predict whether it'll make them cry tears of happiness or tears of sorrow. In Josiah's world, when he gets calls from his parents he ignores them completely, because they almost always mean bad news. In order for him to talk to his parents, it would take one of his father's men and a chauffeur to drag and remove him from campus.
Luckily for him, that's exactly what he got.
Sitting in the back of his father's black Mercedes, it looked as if Josiah had been kidnapped by his own blood. A large man with a gruff voice and stature twice the size of Josiah's drove listening to the song of silence, and with each second he grew increasingly frustrated with his lack of knowledge as to what the hell was going on.
"I demand an explanation," he stated. "Tell me why my father needs to see me so urgently."
Finally, he spoke. "Listen, kid. As much as I would love to tell you, I'm as in the dark as you are. I'm only doing my job, no need to kill the messenger."
"You don't even have a message!"
"Then don't kill the escort."
He grimaced, wondering how his life ended up like this. Just the other day he was the perfect son, following each of his father's bidsâchasing after Isaac in an attempt to bring him to his father. He was a wooden marionette, and he knew it damn well. What he didn't expect was for Isaac to be the Blue Fairy who brought him to life.
Maybe that was his downfall.
When Josiah arrived at his father's building,the first thing he noticed was the utter lack of change. The lobby was decorated with the same midnight sofas, and the marble still reflected the icy hospital-esque lights. Even the receptionist was one he recognized, and she gave him a faint purse-of-lips type smile when he first entered.
It was still the same cold building, yet it felt so different from when he was called here two years ago. Reluctantly, he took the lift to the top floor, presumably where his father's office was located. The ride felt endless, almost like he'd never reach the top, except he did. As expected, the big oak doors still creaked the same creak when they opened.
"Father," he greeted. Josiah tried to determine his mood based off of his facial expressions, though he lacked any. Oddly enough, he felt relieved at this, because if this was a meeting about his sexuality, tangible rage would've been present. And he'd much rather not touch rage. "Why am I here?"
"Nice to see you too, son." He pulled a thick cigar out of his mouth. "As for your question I'm sure you can answer it for yourself. What do you think is the reason I called you here?"
He smirked. "Because my school performance has dropped? I can bring it back up whenever I want to in a matter of seconds."
"Then why the hell haven't you? Your teachers have informed me that you haven't been attending class." Now there was emotion in his face. "I bet you didn't even realize that Harley kid dropped out. What am I supposed to do with you? I thought I could trust you with this. Do I need to send you to a damn school in America?"
Josiah swallowed a lump in his throat. "You can trust me, I-I swear. The only reason I haven't brought him here is becauseâ"
"You couldn't do it. You're a coward and you're clearly not ready for the real world, Josiah." His voice was getting louder with every word. "I brought you here to tell you that I no longer need you for the task. I plan on sending someone else after the boy since you couldn't do it yourself."
"Don't, please! He...he doesn't want to live the life of a whore anymore. That's why I couldn't do it. Don't send anyone after him. He doesn't deserve to pay for his bastard father."
His own father raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Explain to me why I should listen to you."
Josiah clenched his jaw. "I'll do anything you ask. I'll...I'll go to a school in America, if that's what you want. I'll be a better son. Please...just leave him alone."
Nathaniel gave a hard look at his son. He observed his exterior language, examined for signs of lying. His son was a craftsmen in the art of manipulation, but the older man had years of experience with people. If his son tried anything on him, he'd know, and he only saw pathetic desperation in the boy's face. "You better not disappoint me again."
Josiah started to leave, but his father continued to speak.
"Your efforts are futile anyways." He froze in his tracks. "That Harley kid joined a modelling agency. Venus."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I didn't even need to make him into a whore." He chuckled from behind his desk. "He did that himself."
That day, Josiah left his father with a sick feeling in his stomach. It was a feeling so sick that he'd rather have a fever. It was a feeling so sick of drove him madâmad enough to seek out the only kid with a possible antidote.
Asher Alexander.
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Isaac's conversation with Jesse last night repeated in his head like a broken record.
I want to take you up on your offer, he said.
Jesse seemed ecstatic over the phone when he heard his confirmation, but standing in front of the photographer's flat door, Isaac starting doubting his decisions. For some reason, the man had such high expectations of him. What if he disappointed him?
He didn't even have time to reconsider his decision because he'd instinctively rung the bell upon his arrival. He regretted it when the door swung open less than a minute later, and out stepped the artist, clad in a black striped sweater and black jeansâcasual attire all around, like proof this really was just a personal project.
He offered Isaac a mug of warm tea, which he gladly accepted considering the fact that it was early in the morning and he probably resembled a blonde zombie.
"First I want to ask you about how far you're comfortable going." Jesse set his cup down and looked into his eyes. "I definitely don't want you uneasy in front of the lens."
He shied away from the gaze. "Like...with my body? I guess I'm pretty comfortable doing whatever."
"What's your stance on partial nudity?"
He hesitated at the idea, though he knew his answer. "I'm okay with it."
"Good."
Isaac followed him to his makeshift set. The sight had him staring in awe. The once hardwood floors became unrecognizable buried under dozens of roses and other flowers he didn't know the proper names of.
"What is this for?" he asked.
"Every once in awhile I'll decide to release a book compiled of my works." The photographer picked up a rose and held it out to him. "They usually fit a theme."
He took the flower. "And what is the theme here?"
"That's up to the viewer's interpretation. If I tell people my theme beforehand then that is all they will focus on. I want them to see the piece in its entirety, not just one aspect."
Isaac slipped his shirt off over his head. He shivered when his skin made contact with the winter air. "Where do you want me?"
â§ï½¥ï¾: *â§ï½¥ï¾:* ⦠*:ï½¥ï¾â§*:ï½¥ï¾â§
Never in his life would Isaac have thought he'd lay half naked in a bed of flowers looking sensually into a camera. The petals were like velvet under his bare skin. They reminded him of Josiah's silk scarf, which he wore on his way over here. The scarf he dragged against his skin as he pleasured himself.
"Is everything alright?"
Isaac shook his head out of a daze at the sound of Jesse's voice. They'd been working for barely thirty minutes, but he was already out of it. "Of course it is. Does it look like it's not?"
He shrugged. "A little bit."
"I think I made a mistake coming here," he admitted.
Jess tilted his head to the side like a curious child. "We're just taking photos."
"Actually..." Isaac felt his entire face and body heat. It didn't help that he was shirtless; the man could probably see red all the way down to his chest. "From the signals you've been giving me I might've come here with...other intentions."
He watched a sly smile form on the photographer's face as he put the camera down. Isaac was so embarrassed. "Really?"
"But I'm trying to get over someone, that's why I'm regretting it. I've never felt so guilty for doing something like this."
Jesse took his hand and caressed his cheek. Without thinking, Isaac leaned into it and shut his eyes. "You happen to be one of those people who likes to fill a void with something that will give you a temporary moment of pleasure. There's nothing wrong with that; there's nothing wrong about wanting to feel good for once."
"But...I can't."
"Why not? You can use me to fill that void." As Jesse spoke into his ear, Isaac bit his lip so hard it almost broke skin. "What do you want me to do? Say it."
"I want..." Isaac's breath was heavy and eyes heavy lidded. "I want you to touch me."
Jesse barely ran his thumb over Isaac's lip, but the sensation was enough to make him open his mouth for entrance. "Good boy."
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hi and welcome aboard the new ship: isaac + daddy issues? lmaooo pleasedonthateme
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