Warning contains non-con, disturbing topics and age gap
Vincent was no stranger to Rody’s presence in his life. Rody had been there before he even took his first breath, a close family friend who was more like a permanent fixture in the Charbonneau household. As a child, Vincent adored him-Rody was his playmate, his babysitter, and in many ways, the older brother he never had. As Vincent grew, so did his feelings, evolving into something far more complex and confusing.
Rody was always around, with his charming smile and those intense green eyes that Vincent couldn’t ignore. He admired Rody in ways that he hadn’t yet understood as a young boy. It wasn’t until his early teens that he recognized the feelings as a crush, a budding affection that left him feeling conflicted. It was strange, wrong even, but Rody was different. He was the only person who had ever made Vincent feel safe and seen, even if his friends always muttered about how there was something “off” about him.
“He’s creepy,” Richard had said once during a sleepover, his voice hushed but serious. The other boys had nodded in agreement, but Vincent had laughed it off. “He’s not creepy,” he’d countered. “He’s just… Rody.” But there was always something in Rody’s eyes, a glint that Vincent couldn’t quite place, something that made him feel uneasy when he thought about it too much.
Now, standing under the hot stream of the shower, Vincent let the water run over him, hoping to wash away the remnants of a stressful day at the restaurant. The steam curled up around him, fogging the bathroom mirror and creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. He closed his eyes, letting the warmth envelop him, trying to relax his tense muscles.
But then, a soft creak broke through the steady hiss of the water. Vincent’s eyes snapped open, heart pounding as he turned towards the sound. The bathroom door, which he was sure he had closed, was now slightly ajar. Through the gap, he could just make out a shadow, someone standing there, watching him.
“Rody?” he called out, his voice tentative, almost disbelieving. There was no response, only the lingering silence that seemed to thicken the steam around him. His pulse quickened, a mix of fear and something else-something he didn’t want to name-coursing through his veins. He stepped forward, trying to see more clearly through the misted glass.
The door creaked open a little more, and there was no mistaking it now. Rody stood there, his eyes fixed on Vincent with a gaze that was both intense and unreadable. The same eyes that had watched over him his entire life were now studying him in a way that made Vincent’s skin prickle.
“Rody, what are you doing?” Vincent’s voice was low, wavering. He wanted to sound authoritative, demanding, but the words came out softer than intended, betraying his uncertainty.
Rody didn’t answer right away. He simply continued to look at Vincent, his expression unreadable, almost as if he were seeing something-or someone-else entirely. Vincent couldn’t move, caught in the surreal tension that had settled over them.
When Rody finally spoke, his voice was calm, too calm, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “I’ve known you since before you were born, Vincent. Watched you grow up… How could I not be here now?”
Vincent swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the humid air. He felt exposed, vulnerable in a way he’d never experienced before. The water was still running, but it felt as though all the heat had drained from the room, leaving only the cold sting of reality in its wake.
“This isn’t right, Rody,” Vincent said, finally finding his voice. There was a tremor in it, one he hated himself for. “You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be doing this.”
Rody’s expression didn’t change. He stepped forward, just slightly, as if testing the waters, as if seeing how far he could push before Vincent would react. But Vincent didn’t move-he couldn’t. He was frozen, torn between the lingering childhood affection he held for Rody and the sudden, overwhelming fear that this man, the one who had always been there for him, might not be who he thought he was.
“I’ve always been here for you, Vincent. Always.” Rody’s voice was soft, almost soothing, but there was an edge to it, something darker lurking just beneath the surface. “I’ve watched over you, protected you. And now… now you’re grown up.”
Vincent shuddered, every instinct screaming at him to turn away, to leave, to shut the door on whatever was happening between them. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Rody’s. The way Rody was looking at him now-there was something possessive, something hungry.
Rody took another step forward, and Vincent’s breath caught in his throat. “No,” he whispered, more to himself than to Rody. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.”
But it was. And as Rody reached out, as if to touch him, Vincent finally broke free from whatever had been holding him in place. He stepped back, nearly slipping on the wet tiles as he grabbed the shower door, slamming it shut between them.
“Get out!” Vincent’s voice was loud, angry now, but underneath it all was a raw, palpable fear. “Get out of here, Rody!”
Rody stood there, just beyond the shower door, his hand still hovering in the air where it had almost touched Vincent. The moment stretched out painfully, the tension thick enough to suffocate. Rody’s eyes were hard to read, filled with an emotion that Vincent couldn’t-or didn’t want to-name.
The fear gnawing at Vincent’s gut twisted into something more potent, something almost primal. He watched as Rody’s expression flickered, the calm facade cracking ever so slightly to reveal something beneath. It was a glimpse of the real Rody, the one who had always been just out of sight, hiding behind those smiles and that watchful gaze.
“Vincent,” Rody finally said, his voice low, almost pleading. “You don’t understand. I’ve always been here for you, always cared for you. I’m the only one who truly knows you.”
Vincent’s hands were trembling as he backed away, feeling the cool glass of the shower wall against his skin. “You’re wrong,” he spat out, trying to muster up whatever strength he had left. “This isn’t care, Rody. This is… this is something else, something sick!”
Rody’s gaze darkened, and his lips tightened into a thin line. For a brief moment, Vincent thought he saw a flash of anger, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same unsettling calm. “You’re scared,” Rody said softly, as if he were stating a simple fact. “I know. But you don’t have to be.”
Vincent’s stomach churned. How many times had Rody spoken to him in that tone, comforting him when he was a child, telling him everything would be okay? It made his skin crawl now, knowing that those words came from the same man who was watching him with such twisted desire.
“I need you to leave,” Vincent said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Now, Rody.”
But Rody didn’t move. He simply stood there, his gaze locked onto Vincent’s, as if he were trying to reach out to him with just his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, and there was a finality in his tone that sent a chill down Vincent’s spine. “Not now. Not ever.”
Vincent’s breath hitched as Rody stepped forward again, pressing his hand against the glass of the shower door. The barrier felt woefully inadequate, like it could shatter at any moment, leaving Vincent exposed and defenseless.
“You’ve always belonged to me, Vincent,” Rody murmured, his fingers tracing the outline of Vincent’s silhouette through the fogged-up glass. “From the moment you were born, you were mine.”
“Stop,” Vincent whispered, more to himself than to Rody. His heart was pounding in his chest, so loud that it drowned out the sound of the running water.
But Rody didn’t stop. His hand slid down the glass, his touch almost reverent. “You’re mine,” he repeated, as if the words held some deep, unshakeable truth. “No one else will ever love you the way I do. No one else will ever understand you like I do.”
Vincent squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out Rody’s voice, trying to push away the horrible, suffocating realization that this wasn’t something new-this had been there all along, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.
The doorknob rattled suddenly, and Vincent’s eyes snapped open in terror. He could see Rody’s other hand on the handle, the door shaking slightly as Rody’s grip tightened. “Don’t be afraid,” Rody said, his voice so calm it made Vincent’s blood run cold. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”
Vincent’s mind was racing, panic clawing at his insides as he realized that Rody wasn’t going to stop, wasn’t going to leave. He was trapped, with no way out.
With a surge of adrenaline, Vincent lunged forward, shoving the shower door open with all his strength. It crashed against Rody, who stumbled back in surprise, giving Vincent just enough time to bolt out of the bathroom, his heart pounding in his chest as he ran.
He could hear Rody’s footsteps behind him, hear the urgency in them as they followed him down the hallway. “Vincent!” Rody’s voice was sharper now, more insistent. “Don’t run from me!”
But Vincent didn’t listen. He couldn’t. He tore through the house, his mind blank with terror, searching for any escape, any way to put distance between himself and the man who had once been his protector.
He reached the front door, his hands shaking as he fumbled with the lock. Just as he managed to throw it open, he felt a hand grab his arm, yanking him back with a force that sent him crashing to the floor.
Rody loomed over him, his face twisted with a mix of anger and desperation. “You’re not leaving me,” he growled, his grip tightening painfully on Vincent’s arm. “You can’t leave me. We’re meant to be together.”
Vincent’s vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. “Please,” he gasped, trying to pull away, but Rody’s hold was too strong. “Rody, please…”
But there was no mercy in Rody’s eyes, only a dark, possessive hunger. “You’re mine,” he whispered, leaning down so that his breath ghosted over Vincent’s ear. “You’ve always been mine.”
And as Rody’s hands slid up to cradle Vincent’s face, as the reality of his situation sank in, Vincent realized with a cold, sinking dread that there was no escape. Not from Rody. Not from the man who had been watching him for far longer than he had ever known.
Vincent’s heart raced as Rody’s hands gripped his face, the world narrowing down to just the two of them in that awful moment. Rody’s touch was firm, yet there was a gentleness that only made it more terrifying-a twisted tenderness that belied the darkness beneath. Vincent’s breath came in ragged gasps, his mind scrambling for a way out, for anything that might save him from the man he once trusted.
“Please, Rody,” Vincent whispered, his voice trembling as he forced himself to meet Rody’s gaze. “This isn’t right… you don’t have to do this.”
Rody’s thumb brushed against Vincent’s cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped. His eyes softened just a fraction, but that possessive gleam remained. “You don’t understand, Vincent. I’ve waited so long… I’ve watched over you, cared for you, made sure no one hurt you. I only want what’s best for you.”
Vincent’s chest tightened as a wave of nausea washed over him. “This isn’t what’s best for me, Rody,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. “This… this isn’t love.”
Rody’s expression darkened, a flicker of anger crossing his features before it was quickly suppressed. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re confused. Scared. But that’s okay, Vincent. I’ll take care of everything. You’ll see.”
Vincent felt his stomach drop as Rody leaned closer, the weight of his presence pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He struggled to move, to push Rody away, but his body refused to cooperate, paralyzed by the overwhelming fear that had taken hold of him.
Rody’s lips brushed against Vincent’s forehead in a mockery of a comforting gesture, sending a shiver down his spine. “You’ll see,” Rody repeated, his voice soft and soothing, as if he were trying to calm a frightened child. “You’ll see how much I care for you… how much I love you.”
Vincent squeezed his eyes shut, his mind screaming at him to fight back, to do something, anything, to escape. But the realization that Rody had been watching him, that he had always been there, lurking in the shadows of his life, filled him with a hopeless dread that left him frozen in place.
Rody’s hands moved to Vincent’s shoulders, his grip firm but not painful as he pulled Vincent up from the floor. “Come on,” Rody said, his tone gentle, almost coaxing. “Let’s go back to the shower. You’re all cold now, and I don’t want you to catch a chill.”
The casualness of the words, the way Rody spoke as if everything were perfectly normal, sent a fresh wave of terror through Vincent. His mind was a blur of panic and confusion, desperately searching for a way out of this nightmare.
As Rody guided him back toward the bathroom, Vincent’s eyes darted around the hallway, looking for anything he could use to break free. But there was nothing, no weapon, no escape, only the horrifying reality that Rody had complete control over the situation.
They reached the bathroom, and Vincent’s heart pounded in his chest as Rody gently pushed him inside. The steam from the still-running shower filled the room, wrapping around them like a suffocating fog. Rody closed the door behind them, the soft click of the latch sealing Vincent’s fate.
“You’re safe now,” Rody whispered, his hands trailing down Vincent’s arms in a way that made his skin crawl. “No one can hurt you. I won’t let them.”
Vincent’s breaths came in shallow gasps as he looked at Rody, a mixture of fear and revulsion twisting in his gut. “Rody… please…” he begged, his voice cracking under the weight of his terror. “Don’t do this.”
Rody’s eyes softened again, but the darkness never left them. “I’m doing this because I care about you, Vincent,” he said, as if that explained everything. “You’ll understand one day. You’ll see that this was the only way.”
The water continued to cascade from the showerhead, the sound a cruel reminder of the situation Vincent found himself in. He knew he had to act, had to do something before Rody took things even further, but his mind was clouded with fear, his body unwilling to obey his frantic commands.
As Rody reached out to guide Vincent under the spray of the shower, something inside Vincent snapped. A surge of adrenaline flooded his system, overriding the fear that had paralyzed him. Without thinking, Vincent lashed out, his hand connecting with Rody’s chest in a desperate attempt to shove him away.
Rody stumbled back, surprise flashing across his face as he caught himself on the sink. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Vincent thought he might have a chance to escape. But then Rody’s expression hardened, the calm facade shattering to reveal the fury beneath.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Vincent,” Rody said, his voice dangerously low as he straightened up, his eyes blazing with a dark intensity that sent a spike of terror through Vincent’s heart. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
Vincent’s breath hitched as Rody took a step forward, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. Panic surged through Vincent, his mind screaming at him to run, to get out, but his legs refused to move, frozen in place by the sheer intensity of Rody’s gaze.
“You think you can push me away?” Rody’s voice was a low, menacing growl as he closed the distance between them. “After everything I’ve done for you, after everything we’ve been through together?”
Vincent’s heart pounded in his chest as Rody loomed over him, his presence overwhelming, suffocating. “Rody… I…” he stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper, the words catching in his throat as he struggled to find something, anything, that might calm the storm brewing in Rody’s eyes.
But Rody wasn’t listening. His hands shot out, grabbing Vincent by the shoulders and pinning him against the cold, tiled wall. The impact knocked the breath from Vincent’s lungs, his vision swimming as he gasped for air.
“You belong to me, Vincent,” Rody hissed, his face inches from Vincent’s, his breath hot and ragged against his skin. “You always have, and you always will. No one else can have you. No one else can love you like I do.”
Vincent’s mind was a whirlwind of fear and confusion, his thoughts a jumbled mess as he tried to process the terrifying reality of what was happening. He wanted to scream, to fight back, but Rody’s grip was unyielding, his strength overpowering any resistance Vincent could muster.
Tears welled up in Vincent’s eyes as he stared up at Rody, the man who had once been his protector, his friend, now transformed into something monstrous, something that sent a shudder of terror through his entire being.
“Please…” Vincent whispered, his voice trembling as the first tear slipped down his cheek. “Please, Rody… don’t…”
But Rody didn’t answer. His eyes, once filled with warmth and affection, were now cold, devoid of any emotion except for the dark, possessive hunger that had taken hold of him. “You’re mine,” he repeated, his voice a harsh, guttural growl as his fingers dug into Vincent’s shoulders, holding him in place.
As Rody’s lips brushed against his ear, whispering words of twisted love and devotion, Vincent closed his eyes, his tears mixing with the water that still cascaded from the shower, the sound of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears like a funeral drum.
And as the darkness closed in around him, Vincent realized with a cold, sinking dread that this was his new reality-a reality where he would never be free of Rody’s grasp, where he would forever be trapped in this web of obsession and desire.
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