forum This Is Just a Job. . . It Shouldn’t be Anything More (Closed with knightinadream (1/1) (Mature) (MxM)

Started October 03, 2023 by @RhysTheFirebird group

tune

Romeo tried to faintly smile at Ilya. He shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but I am okay," the bodyguard assured. Frankly, he was still trying to calm down from the excitement of being hired. The thought of eating anything (no matter what it was) was something that crossed his mind. He'll be fine, it is not like he has a boxing match or anything.

Oddly enough, he felt like there was some sort of back and forth going on between him and Ilya. Between their initial exchange and the whole thing with the snacks, Romeo could not ignore it.

One goal he tried to achieve in every gig was having the client trust and feel secure with him. If he could not get Ilya to trust him, then he might as well quit unless Ilya fires him first. Protecting someone requires trust. Usually clients already do the moment they hire him for a gig because they've read through his credentials and recommendations, yet this client had done none of that. Not to mention it seemed like something did not work out with the last bodyguard.

Romeo asked, "Do you want me to sit down?" The security detail in the building was more than what any other business had so it wouldn't be the end of the world of he took a seat. However, even with all this security, does the client truly feel safe? "If it'd make you feel more comfortable with having me as your bodyguard, I can take a seat."

Ilya's brow furrows, and he stares at Romeo for a long moment, green gaze sliding up and then down along the man. He lets out a soft hum, something glittering in his eyes. He taps a finger on the back of the couch and stands. He strides towards the man, crossing his arms.

"I'm only going to say this once. I don't care if you're my bodyguard or not. I don't care what my father wants. If you want my trust and for me to not make your job as hard as I can make it, then you need to be loyal to me and not my father."

He looks towards the wall of windows, closing his eyes for a moment. It seemed something like pain crossed his features before his eyes opened again. He looks back at Romeo, green gaze once again considering. While he acted like it in his father's office, the young man did not seem like a spoiled rich kid. Yes, he had a lavish 'office' but it was still simple somehow. His green gaze sparked with intelligence and kindness.

Ilya waves his hand, "I'm not going to boss you around and control your life. You'll have time off, usually when I'm home. I don't care what father says. I'm sure you have a family you'll want to see. You can sit, stand, eat, drink whenever or whatever you'd like. You're not my dog, you're a person." Granted Ilya hadn't treated his last bodyguard like that, he'd been a real pain in the ass. But that was because the older man made it clear he was loyal to Fyodor. Even after what the man had done to Ilya on occasion.

"Simply put, as my bodyguard, I'll only require you to be active and alert when not here or at home." Ilya then turns and throws himself on the couch and then holds up a Wii controller. "But, now that there's someone who's contractually obligated to spend time with me, how about some Mario Cart?"

The hairs were standing on the back of his neck. It is odd. Romeo likes the shade of Ilya's eyes. They remind him of the earth. You could easily read the emotion off of them. Maintaining eye contact was not the problem, feeling the client's eyes on him, on the other hand, gave him goosebumps.

At this point, he began to swallow his words. He cares. He cares that he is Ilya's bodyguard. Why else would he be here? Shouldn't it be obvious that he is loyal to this man? It's job to protect him and he'll do it! Romeo could care less if he has to stand for five hours straight. His body is very capable of withstanding a lot. It's one of the reasons why he is perfect for the job. His nails were digging into his palms. Very slowly, he was inhaling and exhaling out of his nose while listening to his client.

So far, Romeo was trying to detect the emotions in what Ilya was saying. Frustration? Kindness? The client was recognizing how he, the bodyguard, has a life too. If he had the chance to be honest, he is suprised to see someone as wealthy as Ilya say such things. Romeo could nod at what was being said. But then, he caught a glimpse of a gaming controller behind held up.

There were no classes nor trainings to tell him what to do in this particular situation. Relaxing wouldn't be a problem, but he was unsure about playing video games with the client. He didn't want to have to pick between maintaining professionalism and gaining Ilya's trust. If he wanted to do a good job, he had to balance both of them.

Walking over to the couch, he gently took the Wii controller. He sat down on the edge with his back straight. Romeo either kept his eyes on the floor or on the controller. It must have been years since he played Mario Cart. Playing a video game with a client on the first day of work was not something be expected. However, he welcomed it. This could something beneficial for them both. This should be fun.

Ilya gave a satisfied smile when Romeo took the controller from his fingers. He watched the man sit down and huffed a soft laugh. "You look ready to run at a moments notice. Relax. Nothing's going to happen." He looks to the TV, pressing buttons on the controller to set up the game.

"You can also talk, you know. Converse with me. It gets lonely when I'm by myself all the time."

Ilya then spins and flips upside down, looking at the TV from the angle and smiling. He selects his character, and then cart.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself. I'm sure you know everything about me. Single child, just my father, the heir to a multi million dollar company." He rolls his eyes, fiddling with the controller. He looks at Romeo, gaze curious. "Oh, and I love cars. Racing especially, but I don't get to do it often."

The last time his father had found out he'd raced, Ilya had been black and blue for almost three weeks. As well as the yelling ringing in his ears that car racing was dangerous and he could die. Ilya didn't care about the risks though, he felt alive behind the wheel.

For a brief second, he looked over at Ilya. His brows furrowed while he tilted his head. Romeo felt his face turning pink. When being told that he could relax, he moved slightly back into the sofa. He was still sitting up straight and everything. Despite knowing that everything was fine, he was just used to moving and being a certain way. Doesn't really help the fact that he was always up and on his feet, but he'll do his best to try and relax. Guess it's part job now.

"Okay…" Even better. Romeo was not one for talking. Sure he does talk, especially with family and friends. Every now then, he might get elated and talk for hours on end, but he was always a listener. And he would be more than happy to listen to whatever Ilya says. He looked around before saying, "But you're not lonely…I'm here…You can talk to me. Say whatever you want, I won't tell anyone anything."

To be honest, he only knew a few things about Ilya. He didn't know his favorite color or movie or what midnight snacks he liked to eat or even what music he liked to dance to. Romeo smiled, "I didn't know you liked cars. That's really cool." These were important things. Knowing a client's likes and dislikes can be helpful.

Romeo glanced back at the television screen. After picking his character and cart, he looked back at Ilya. "I'm the fourth out of five children. Dad owns a gym and teaches a bunch of classes. Mom is a high school English teacher. And I like boxing and a lot of other sports and movies."

There was something else he was going to say, but he had no idea. Instead of trying to think of what he forgot, he just went with staring up at the television screen.

(sorry for the late reply)

Ilya sighs, shoving the image out of his head. Though he briefly wondered what people would think of Ilya. Bright, intelligent, handsome Ilya, if they knew that he let his old man beat on him. He shudders, casting his gaze at Romeo.

"You ready?"

He motions to the screen with his controller. He smiles slightly, spinning once again to sit upright on the sofa.

He nods once, "Cars are like. . ." He thinks for a long moment, closing his eyes.

"An escape. A way to get away from everything. Expectations, stupid dates, boring parties." He sighs heavily, "All I have to do, is get into my car and drive out to the outskirts and there. There I am, in my garage or on the dirt track I made. Free."

Ilya hadn't been out there in months. He'd need so busy with the blind dates his father kept sending him to. Or the parties. Or the work. Ilya was smart, but he didn't want to be in his father's shadow. He wanted to make his own things.

Fyodor Aslanov made technology. Tablets, and computers. Entertainment and work friendly. But Ilya wondered if they could do more. He wanted to do more. And yet he was stuck here, being kept on a short and tight as hell leash.

"Fighting. . . What about detective work? Solving mysteries or problems?" Ilya peers at the male beside him, tilting his head slightly.

While giving a nod, he flashes a little smile then returns to staring up at the screen. His eyes watch the two character standing idle next to their race cars.

He wishes he had something that was a means of escape, something to clear his mind and relax himself. Even his favorite thing (boxing) is stressful. It fires him up but it is not like Ilya with cars. Romeo wonders where his client's interest came from. Doing it would be hard since he would have to be right there with Ilya. How free can he be when a guy hired by his father has to tag along?

"Sounds like you wanna go out and drive," He said, "It must be fun."

Romeo bites his lip while looking down at the game controller. Fighting is all that he knows. A lot of his life surrounds it. From schooling to all of his jobs, each and every single thing involves fighting of some kind. The only thing he has done that is related to detectives or solving mysteries is watching movies.

"All I've ever done was boxing or working as some type of bodyguard," He responds, "No detective work or solving mysteries….Plenty of problem solving though."

Ilya presses the start button and starts to select the track, "Oh, any particular favorite?" He glances to Romeo, tilting his head slightly.

Ilya had gotten his love of cars from his mother. She and her father had both been mechanics, her father owning a large car dealership. They had both taken to helping repair the cars that came into shop, and Ilya could remember spending lots of time there with his mother and grandfather. It wasn't until his mother passed that his father forbid him from going.

Though, hat didn't stop Ilya from getting his own car and working on it in the garage at home. He was proud of his baby, a color shifting car from dark blue to dark purple. She was fast, insanely so, as well as built in with her own AI. One Ilya had made himself.

Ilya closes his eyes, "I do, almost all the time. It helps to just get away sometimes. I don't have much of a role here except to look pretty. I swear father wishes he had a daughter or something." He opens his eyes and stares down at his controller once his hand.

"Right. . . How good are your natural problem solving skills then?"

To be honest, Romeo had no clue which track is his favorite. When him and his siblings used to play years ago, the oldest sibling would pick a number and everyone else would have to guess what it was. Whoever guessed right got to pick the track. If memory serves him right, he has only won about five times. Hugo and Athena's favorite is the Coconut Mall. Conrad's was Shy Guy Beach and Bella's was Rainbow Road. Anytime he won though, he just went with whatever one was the first one he saw. Going random has always been fun for him; at least, when it comes to video games.

Sitting up, he looks over at the screen, back at Ilya, then shakes his head. "No, not really," He responses, "I'm fine with you picking your favorite."

For a while, he just says nothing. He feels like he cannot really make a comment about Ilya and Mr. Aslanov's relationship nor how…pretty Ilya is? Is he supposed to say something? When his client opens his eyes, Romeo could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He looks away while slowly exhaling.

"Competent…Or proficient…" Good enough for him to win boxing matches, pass classes, solve regular family argument, get jobs like this, and protect clients like Ilya. While he is not the best (and only has been doing this for a couple of years), he has succeeded with every job he has taken. Usually anyone who gets injured were the ones who brought it upon themselves or Romeo. "They are good enough to impress Mr. Aslanov."

Ilya gave a small laugh at Romeo's response, the sound light and surprisingly genuine. He tilted his head, studying the man as if trying to piece him together like a puzzle. There was something unpolished about Romeo—rough around the edges—but it felt honest. That was a rarity in Ilya's world of polished surfaces and hidden intentions.

“Good enough to impress my father, huh?” Ilya mused, tapping a finger on the controller as he scrolled through the tracks. His smile faded, replaced by a faint, sardonic curl of his lips. “That’s no small feat. My father’s not the kind of man who’s easily impressed.”

He stopped on a track—Rainbow Road. A classic. Chaotic, bright, and challenging, much like Ilya’s own life. He selected it without hesitation, shooting a glance at Romeo. “You might want to strap in. This one’s brutal.”

As the game loaded, Ilya leaned back on the couch, his gaze flicking to the ceiling. “Proficient is good,” he said after a beat, his voice quieter. “Proficient might even keep me alive. That’s all my father cares about, after all. Keeping the golden heir breathing.” There was no bitterness in his tone—just a weary acceptance.

He sat up suddenly, leaning his elbows on his knees as he turned his full attention to Romeo. “But I don’t need someone who’s just ‘proficient.’ I need someone who can think on their feet. Someone who can handle more than just throwing punches. Can you do that?”

There was no challenge in Ilya’s tone, only curiosity. His green eyes, so often sharp and guarded, were softer now, seeking something in Romeo’s gaze that he hadn’t found in anyone else. Perhaps loyalty. Perhaps understanding. Or maybe just someone who would see him for who he was, not what he was expected to be.

There was something about Ilya that confused him, piqued his interest. Romeo thought he could've figured out this guy in a few minutes but now he was stuck; curious and wondering. He sat there, looking over with wide eyes, feeling as his hands and heart became stiff at hearing the small laugh coming from the client.

Ilya's smile was comforting. Though, much to his chagrin, it only lasted for so long when he mentioned Mr. Aslanov. Frankly, when it came to how easily impressed Aslanov could be, it sounded like the apple didn't fall far from tree when it came to Ilya. At least, that's what Romeo thought.

He looked down at the controller then up at the screen. Part of him still couldn't believe he was doing this while on the job. He just listened while nodding and staring at the loading screen. It was not long for him to glimpse over at Ilya. The look of him was something Romeo has only seen a few times. Ilya looked tired; not physically, but perhaps mentally or emotionally. Romeo wondered why.

New person. New bodyguard. New routine. Honestly, Romeo could understand the reluctance and tiredness towards him. However, the comments Ilya has been making about his own father also made him think that there's something else. His client already gave off his disapproval of having a bodyguard that his father had chosen for him, but now it seemed like Ilya has interest in him. Just the way his whole body is facing Romeo and the look in his gaze tells him that the client might be looking at him through a different lense now.

He sat the controller down on the sofa then turned to face Ilya. His hands rested neatly on his lap. "I can," Romeo nodded before adding, "I can do all of that and more…I wouldn't have applied for this job if I couldn't." He picked up the controller, holding it up for Ilya to see, giving him a small reassuring smile. "You don't have to worry. I'll protect you."