chapter 3. The kinds of you...

Warning: this is in no way in support of abuses of any kind...

Nicklaus watched the boy by the poolside with a longing that made his stomach churn. He hissed as he drew his gaze from the window. "What the hell am I doing? Am I that sexually frustrated?" He asked himself as he returned to his bed.

Exhaling, he stood up again and headed to the bathroom, where he spent the next 30 minutes trying to calm himself, but his mind continued to remember the boy—the curves of his waist, his smooth gold skin, his wavy blonde hair. "Fuck!" Nicklaus pounded his fists on the shower walls.

The cold water drenching his skin did very little justice to the hunger he was feeling between his legs. He clenched his teeth as he made a decision: he was not going to give in to the boy's temptation, no matter what. Never again.

At the dining table, he sat with a solemn expression. The lavish spread on the table was supposed to be in celebration of the arrival of Emma's beneficiaries, but the atmosphere of the room felt like they were mourning.

Nicklaus stole a glance at the boy, and he seemed to be the only one in a good mood.

Emma had specified that they lived with Nicklaus for at least a year before he could decide what to do with them, in accordance with what was written in her last will and testament.

Back then, she always said Nicklaus was too cold and wanted him to warm up by learning to be a parent. Nicklaus had no intentions of doing that; he intended to ignore them forever. However, with the recent development of Babe, he knew his plan had been thwarted.

Lifting his glass, he made a dry toast. "To the latest members of my family."

Babe and Cecil shared an awkward glance before lifting their cups, but Nicklaus was too far away, so they ended up only clicking glasses with each other.

The dinner continued in silence until Nicklaus left. Before Cecil could attempt to begin a tête-à-tête with Babe, he sprang to his feet and left the dining. Tears welled up in her eyes, but there wasn't much she could do about it; Babe hated her to the bones.

She was left all alone in the dining room with the maids and James. The place became too uncomfortable, so she left her food to return to her room, even though she wasn't satisfied.

Babe returned to his room and changed into something tight: a pink-colored brief and bare chest. He smirked at his reflection in the mirror with satisfaction. He threw on a robe and made a knot before leaving his room.

It was already late; the lights in the living room were switched off, only the lights from the gallery shadowed in. Babe ran his fingers through his hair, doing some finishing touches to perfect his look.

He strode quietly to the other end of the gallery, where Nicklaus' room was located—a part of the mansion that he was warned never to go to. But the fearless and impulsive boy didn't care. He had a goal, and he wouldn't stop until he achieved it.

A trio of knocks disturbed the musing billionaire widower. His brows creased. "Who could that be at this hour?" He wondered but rose from his bed, thinking it must be James.

"What is so important that can't wait till morning —" The rest of his sentence got caught in his throat as his mouth fell. His eyes remained in a frozen state, eating every curve before him. "What are you doing —"

"Shh," Babe pressed his index on Nicklaus' lips, shutting him up. He crossed the almost invincible space between them, pushing Nicklaus into his room. "Don't say anything; I just want to help."

The billionaire quickly snapped out of it and pushed Babe out of his room. "What is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? Is it because I have been lenient with you?"

Ignoring the fuming man, Babe tried to cling to him but was violently pushed to the ground. His eyes registered shock, tears brimming. "Nicklaus..." He quivered.

"I warned you!" Nicklaus yelled. "I warned you to stay the hell away from me, but you wouldn't listen." He scowled. "Do you really think I want to make the same mistake again? Do you think I want to sleep with your kind? Bloody faggot, I am not gay and I will never be."

Babe shook his head, refusing to believe what he was hearing. "No, Nicklaus, you are lying; you want me as much as I want you." He stood up abruptly and attempted to hug Nicklaus but again found his body crashing to the hard floor.

"Are you daft? Or do you want me to break your bones before you understand that I hate everything about you and your people. I am not one of you, and I curse the day I made that mistake of sleeping with you," Nicklaus spat. He looked down at Babe in a condescending manner, then he sneered. "Even if I wanted to sleep with your kind, what makes you think I would want to sleep with you again? You are a nobody, a nameless bastard abandoned since birth, a church rat, a beggar leeching off my late wife's charity. I will never stoop that low again."

Slam! Babe's blurred vision watched Nicklaus' locked door. Every limb in his body was paralyzed, not from the pushes he got from Nicklaus but from the hurtful statements of the man.

"I am not wrong," he repeated to himself, voice shaking. "He wants me as much as I want him." He assured himself. "He's just confused; he doesn't hate me. There is nothing wrong with being queer..." The rest of his words were drowned.

He refused to come out of the pool of denial he was in. He had anticipated rejection from Nicklaus, but he never anticipated that it would be this painful. His heart was bleeding.

He stayed there for almost an hour, crying and hoping that Nicklaus would open the door to him and apologize, but it never happened.

Slowly, he dragged himself back to his room. Scruffling through his bags, he took out a transparent sachet containing a white substance.

His lips quivered as he used a dollar bill to line the powdered substance, but before he could proceed, a call came in. "Nicklaus?" His eyes widened, and he instantly abandoned what he was doing.