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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2117002
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Drama · #2117002
Gus needs to be saved, but will he be?
Walking into the bar in downtown Detroit this snowy evening, Steve Yzerman, the 28-year-old Captain of the Detroit hockey team and an undercover agent for a squad who rescues abused Subs and takes them in until they find a home, needed a drink. It had been a couple of rough days for him and his team and, although he didn't drink very much, he could use one now.

Slipping into a bar stool, Steve was surprised to see that there wasn't a lot of people here. On a Saturday night, usually the place was packed, but not this night. Steve figured it was the snowy weather that kept people away. The roads didn't look good.


Steve pulled out of his musings and turned in the direction of the voice. There stood a young boy who looked no more than 16, his blue eyes wide as he stared at Steve.

“What would you like to drink tonight?”

Lips quivering into a grin, Steve rested his elbows on the table and let out a small humming noise.

“A Bud Light, young man. You are very polite.”

The boy's cheeks turned a dark pink at the praise and he offered Steve a shy smile.

“Thank you, sir. My name is Gus. If you need anything, just call me over.”

“Will do, Gus.”

As Gus walked away, Steve noticed a little limp in his step. Was that from abuse or had he just fallen and twisted his knee? Not like Steve hadn't done that before.


The boy turned around to gaze bashfully at Steve, his cheeks just now returning to their normal pale color.

“Yes, sir?”

“How did you hurt your leg?'

At the question, Gus's cheeks turned paler, his hands started to tremble, and tears filled his big blue eyes.

“I fell, sir. Don't worry about it. Me and my Master took care of it.”

In his heart, Steve knew the young Sub was lying, but he didn't push it any farther. No need to let others get suspicious of why he was asking so many questions.


Squealing at the loud tone, Gus jumped a foot into the air and spun around on his heel to lock eyes with his Master, Danny.

“Y-yes, Master?”

“Why are you not working? Do you want to get paid tonight or not?”

Gus lowered his eyes in shame. He knew better than to start talking to the customers, but he didn't want to be rude when someone asked a question. What harm was Steve causing, anyway?

“Yes, Master.”

Danny came over and landed a reproving swat to Gus's behind.

“Then go get this man his drink. You have other customers to worry about. You naughty Sub.”

A single tear commenced it's lonely voyage down Gus's cheek as he lowered his head to the floor and walked away to grab Steve's beer. He couldn't understand why Danny didn't like him talking to other people. Gus would never, ever cheat on Danny.

Steve glared daggers at Danny's back as the older man twisted around and traversed to the other side of the counter, where about three or four other people sat patiently, waiting for their food and drink. Gus had done nothing to deserve that swat. Steve had asked a question and Gus had answered it. What was wrong with that?

He bounced his leg on the floor for a few minutes, trying to calm down his anger. He hadn't seen any abuse from Danny, but he had a feeling there was more to the story than what he'd seen so far. His gut was telling him Gus was being abused but, as the agency he worked for often told him, it's only if they seen anything abusive that they step it. Not one minute before.

Suddenly, a loud scream and whimper tackled his ear-drums. Jerking up his head so fast he nearly gave himself whip-lash, Steve's eyed locked on the scene going on behind the counter.

Gus was pinned to the wall, his pants unbuttoned, large crystal tears rolling down his cheeks, his hands on Danny's chest as he tried to push him away.


Danny chuckled and wrapped his fingers around Gus's blue-and-white boxers, the look in his eyes so evil, he must have been the Devil himself.

“You need to know who is boss around here, Gustav. You keep disobeying my rules, you keep talking to customers, you're moving too slow, so you need to be punished.”

Steve had enough. If Danny thought he was going to get away with abusing a Sub like Gus, he was sadly mistaken.

Shooting up from his stool like a rocket taking off into space, he stormed over to the door of the counter, flung it open, carelessly banging it into the wall, and grabbed Danny's shirt, yanking him backwards.


Gus breathed a sigh of relief at not feeling Danny on him anymore and lifted his eyes up to see what was happening.

Danny screamed at Steve and reached up to punch him square in the face, in the nose, but Steve ducked and flipped him over onto the ground.

“Don't you test me, boy. Don't mess with me.”

Steve's eyes flashed with a burning fire of anger that the strongest waterfall could not put out. What if he hadn't been here? What would have happened to Gus?

Danny gaped in shock up at him and narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“Who do you think you are? Aren't you supposed to punish Subs when they are naughty?”

Steve snarled and bent down close to his ear, so close, in fact, that Danny could feel his hot breath on his skin.

“Yes, you should, but not like that. And, to answer your question,” Steve pulled out a gun and then moved his jacket out of the way to revel his black medal badge with the name 'Yzerman' and 'Undercover Agent' written on it, “I'm an undercover agent who rescues Subs from people like you. Now, would you like to leave or shall I blast your ass to pieces?”

Gus's jaw dropped in shock. Steve was an undercover agent? Wow, that was amazing. To be rescued by someone like that? He had never felt more blessed than he did on this day.

Danny scowled but picked himself off the floor and ran into the backroom, slamming and locking it behind him. He'd heard about these undercover agents before but didn't think he'd live to see the day where he'd see them face-to-face.

Steve tucked the gun back into it's holster and glared at the door for a few seconds before turning his attention to the little boy shaking on the wall, who still hadn't moved to pull his pants back up, probably because he was too shaken up to do so.

“Gus, honey, please put your clothes back on,” Steve said kindly, watching him with gentle eyes.

Blushing redder and brighter than the sun setting in the night sky, Gus pulled up his pants and unbuttoned them back on. His movements were shaky and his eyes kept filling and refilling with tears.

Steve went to the money drawer labeled 'Gus's Money' and opened it before taking out the money—there must have been $300 in here—and slipping it into a bag he usually carried around for evidence but now was using it for something more important.

“Come along, love. Let's get you home and cleaned up, yeah?”

Love. That was a nickname that Gus had never been called in his life. He discovered that he rather liked it.

Dropping his head down, Gus followed the sound of Steve's footsteps and walked behind him all the way to the car in a comfortable silence.

Steve slipped the bag into the pocket of the back seat of the car and then turned his attention back to Gus.

He reached out to gently touch Gus's cheek but was denied when Gus visibly flinched and pushed his hand away, his cheeks wet with salty tears.

“P-please don't h-hit me, sir.”

Steve's heart broke. It had been broken ever since he'd laid eyes on Gus and saw his limp, but it was breaking in half again as he stared into Gus's wide orbs, that showed someone who wanted to trust but didn't know how, wanted to be loved and cared for. Not someone who was going to be abused.

“Sweetheart....” Steve got down on his knees in front of Gus and took both of his little hands in his. “I will never hit you, ever. Not for any reason. I'm going to take care of you until I find you a Dom who will treat you right. You will never be abused again, do you understand me?”

Tears streamed down Gus's cheeks in rivulets at the passion, caring, and love in Steve's tone, face, and voice. Steve was too good for him and Gus vowed that however long he was with Steve, he'd be a good boy for him, no matter what it took.

“Y-yes, sir.”
© Copyright 2017 Izzy~#VegasStrong (myfamily1996 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2117002