Chapter Fourteen – Quick Study
"I'm good at it," Bastien said as if he was trying to convince himself of that fact.
Lawrence placed his hand over Bastien's. His cock pulsed under their pressed-together fingers, but he needed to stop before things went out of control.
"Bastien, you don't have to."
His words provoked a sheepish smile to appear on that handsome face. "I know. But if there's one thing I want – have wanted for a long time – it's this."
"This?" Lawrence echoed, relishing the feel of Bastien's touch on his crotch.
"Yes." Bastien set his chin up in defiance. "To feel your cock between my lips and abandon myself to it."
There was barely anything he could say upon hearing such a direct admission.
The sound of his own gasp as Bastien slowly lowered his sweatpants and underwear was foreign to him. He didn't gasp like that. When he had sex, it was controlled. Caring for his partner's satisfaction meant that he took care to not get too carried away.
It seemed impossible under the current circumstances. Noises were climbing out of his throat, adding to the illicit nature of what was happening. Bastien had his elegant hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing as means of testing its hardness. And then, there was something warm and wet on the head, wrapping itself around it.
Lawrence threw his head back and closed his eyes. Tiny unlikely tears gathered at their corners. His entire body was tight like a cord, a wound-up spring, ready to unload. Bastien wasn't a quiet lover. His mouth made noises, too, soft little moans expressing wonder and appreciation that Lawrence wasn't entirely sure he deserved.
And his tongue – his tongue was otherworldly, because it managed to be in so many different places at the same time, going round and round Lawrence's manhood, from the base to the tip, a feat in itself since Lawrence was well aware of his personal endowment, which wasn't the easiest to handle, as he'd come to learn from his past sex partners.
Had he been at the receiving end of oral sex? Yes, of course, many times. The person who delivered the service mattered, based on skill and interest. Lawrence preferred it when the person sharing his bed didn't feel any obligation to provide such practices, whether to spice things up or just for the sake of it.
This, however, was on a different level. Bastien had said the truth earlier; he was good at it. Lawrence couldn't possibly imagine how he managed to move his lips so close that he blew hot air over Lawrence's pubic hair, making it stand to attention like the rest of the body succumbing to such pleasure.
Bastien snuck a hand underneath Lawrence's undershirt. He appeared to be searching for something and only stopped when he succeeded in getting hold of a nipple. Vicious was too tame a word to describe what he was doing once he reached his destination. But it cleared Lawrence's head in an instant, the sudden pain sending ripples through his body only to quickly add on top of his arousal.
He made the mistake to look down. A few rogue strands got in Bastien's eyes, but he kept them closed. Even so, his face when he moved to expose it briefly as the lips pressed along the shaft to reach the head, looked positively orgasmic. Lawrence couldn't recall seeing anyone getting off on giving someone else pleasure in such a manner.
Without thinking, he reached with one hand and touched Bastien's head. His eyes were misty now as they darted to Lawrence's face. It was a good look on him. Selfishly so, Lawrence thought he'd love to have Bastien Hawthorne on his knees a lot more often than allowed. His fingers wrapped slowly around the back of the blond majestic head. His intention wasn't to make Bastien take him deeper, but it was interpreted as such. A startled moan erupted, as muffled as it was, from the wet, stretched lips. Their owner increased his efforts. Lawrence found his hand moved to supply support to the rhythm, the overloading of his senses heightening to the point they would barely qualify as bearable.
"Bastien," he whispered, breathless, unable to move, "it will—if you don't--"
That only appeared to give Bastien more fuel, though, as a long-distance runner, he should have already been at his wit's and body's end. Lawrence knew it was inevitable. He'd come in Bastien Hawthorne's lovely mouth, and he wouldn't be able to bring himself to worry about it.
His body stretched so taut the touch of a feather would make him break. But that didn't happen. Instead, fireworks lit behind his now-closed eyelids and his lower body erupted, leaving nothing behind.
Getting back to solid ground took a good minute. When he dared to look again, Bastien was slowly patting his mouth, a bit of cum at one corner, looking messy in the best of ways, with his hair ruffled and his lips shining with more than just his own saliva.
He caught Lawrence's stare and grinned, a naughty smirk that wasn't ill-intended at all. His fingers moved slowly over the length of Lawrence's cock, now glistening from being in his mouth until only moments earlier.
"You are amazingly scrumptious, Bear," he said.
"Bastien," Lawrence whispered, a bit reproachful. "In your mouth? But--"
"Yes." Bastien got up and climbed on Lawrence's lap, pressing his lovely hot ass crack on top of the cock that was, unfortunately, too spent to care so soon.
Oh, but it did care. It twitched wanly, begging for just another moment of respite.
The harder thing was for Lawrence to look Bastien in the eye, knowing what he'd just done. But he forgot about feeling like a stranger in his own skin after experiencing so much pleasure that a part of him must have been depleted, as soon as Bastien kissed him.
It only occurred to him that he was tasting his own cum from Bastien's mouth a moment later. To his surprise, it didn't cause the unpleasant and uncomfortable sensation that usually came to him after sex. Instead, he took hold of Bastien's nape, kissing him vigorously. The confirmation, the acceptance happening between them now allowed him to become daring.
With ease, he placed Bastien on his back, never letting go of his lips. One hand quickly found a round buttock and squeezed it hard. Bastien squirmed under him, his blunt fingers digging into Lawrence's shoulders, igniting a new fire with each possible red trail they left in their wake.
Bastien's hardness pressed against his lower belly. Lawrence let go of Bastien's mouth only so he could bite and lick his neck. He, too, wanted to taste Bastien all over. In passing, his cheek rubbed against the curly blond hair on Bastien's chest.
A need to devour blossomed inside him. He bit Bastien's abdomen, playfully but still managing to elicit a soft startled sound from the beautiful man in his bed.
Unlike Bastien, he didn't know what he was doing. And he wasn't, most likely, good at it, either. But nonetheless, his lips found their way to Bastien's leaking cock and wrapped around it.
"Lawrence," Bastien whispered breathlessly.
For a moment, he worried that the Sun King wouldn't agree to the quid pro quo this time around, because of the inferior service Lawrence was about to provide. Nothing of the kind happened.
Taste, texture, touch. His tongue could barely withstand the explosion of sensations as he struggled to swallow the whole length of the object of his interest the way he'd seen Bastien doing earlier.
Apparently, it wasn't a task fit for the uninitiated. Eventually, he had to settle for using his hand, thus protecting his dignity and moving his mouth and tongue over as much as he could handle.
He'd never imagined that doing such a thing – with a man – would make him ravenous for more. While he understood, vaguely enough that he wouldn't act upon such thoughts, that certain men his age found him attractive, he hadn't let his imagination take him this far. To be fair, his imagination hadn't known that such possibilities existed, as far as his person was concerned, of course.
And now, he was kneeling, pressed down in a knee-to-chest position, his mouth full of Bastien Hawthorne's cock.
Oddly enough, Bastien was no longer as demonstrative as he'd been while he performed oral sex on Lawrence. It wouldn't be a surprise if Lawrence was so bad at doing the deed that Bastien only lay there out of politeness and nothing more.
He risked a look at the gorgeous man preferring his bed to his own. Bastien's eyes were closed, and the expression on his face was a pained one.
Lawrence stopped immediately, making Bastien open his eyes, seemingly startled.
"Bastien, what's wrong?" he asked.
Bastien smiled and reached out to caress his face. "I am a fool," he confessed. "I like you, Bear."
They kissed again. That appeared to be safe territory, and Bastien made it a point to get as close as he could, while taking Lawrence's hand and placing it over his cock, showing him without words what he wanted to be done to him.
A hazy sensation of dissatisfaction cut Lawrence's pleasure in half for about ten seconds. After that, he forgot the reason for it. Bastien expressed more with his lips when kissing than when he was talking out loud, and now, they were communicating better.
It took Bastien little to reach the point of no return. Lawrence moved his hand vigorously as imposed by the master of the house, although he would have liked to relish in the sensation of handling such a precious charge for a bit longer.
Bastien's body tensed in his arms. Lawrence allowed his tongue to be sucked with fervor, not minding even the grazing of the front teeth along it, while his hand became wet with Bastien's release.
They lay in bed afterwards, Lawrence bringing his hand to Bastien's face to paint it slowly with his own cum.
"You are such a dirty dog, Lawrence," Bastien scolded him, grinning madly.
"I believe I'm taking lessons from you."
"That may be," Bastien accepted graciously. "But you are definitely a quick study."
Comfortable silence stretched between them. Lawrence knew he had the chance to start some pillow talk, maybe get Bastien to share a few secrets, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe he had too much of a conscience to be a spy. After all, he wasn't one and didn't intend to become. Only an investigator. But how far would be too far to go for the sake of finding the truth?
An oddity began to take shape inside his mind. How would he survive if the results of his investigation unveiled unbearable truths? No, not survive. He was being overly dramatic. But living with himself would never be the same.
"Back to being your always-serious self?" Bastien teased him, flicking his nose.
"We must be mad," Lawrence said. Honest words but not said for the most honest reasons.
Bastien laughed, exposing his elegant throat again. Lawrence could barely tear his eyes away.
"We are," he insisted. "If we are caught, it will be hell to pay."
"Don't worry. I'll extent my influence over your humble person, provided you pledge yourself to me," Bastien joked.
"You talk big," Lawrence pointed out. "And no one would dare touch you. But me? They will send me with a boot in my behind without thinking twice. Are you secretly trying to get me expelled, Bastien? I promise that I'm hardly a worthy opponent. In case you intend to eliminate any competition."
"What competition?"
"In your studies, I mean," Lawrence said.
Bastien burst into laughter. He didn't stop, even as Lawrence threw him a few alarmed looks.
"Ah, Bear, you're just too funny. I have no idea what kind of people you imagined we would be prior to coming here, but we're not the sort to be at each other's throats for grades and such things."
"You're not? Everyone studies here as if they're whipped by demons from hell," Lawrence pointed out.
"Oh, yes, that is expected of us. We are, however, more afraid of what our families would say if we didn't perform according to the work and money they've invested in us."
"That seems rather harsh. Are you all investments for your families?" Lawrence inquired further, more and more intrigued by these revelations.
Bastien shrugged. "Most of the time, yes."
"Ali tries to go against it by skipping lessons," Lawrence said.
"Yes, he pretends to be rebellious," Bastien said, his smile fading.
It was an occasion presenting itself. Lawrence didn't feel particularly bad about latching onto it. "He's your childhood friend. He told me that," he hurried to add.
"Yes. But as we all grow out of our childhoods, it's not unusual to leave some of our friends behind," Bastien said. He was swinging his knee left and right slowly, his leg bent and resting its foot against the bed.
"It seems so strange," Lawrence continued, despite noticing how his conversational partner would prefer a change of topic. "He and Felix are twins. But only Felix is part of your Golden Circle."
A soft scoff confirmed that he was testing his visitor's patience. "No one chased Alistair out of the group, you know," he said. "From the beginning, he announced that he would not partake."
"So, he was never part of--"
"Of my royal court? No, he wasn't. And he prefers that awful music of his over human interaction if you can believe it. It's quite odd how fast he took to you," Bastien said, his lovely eyes narrowing slightly.
"He is quite friendly. And I appreciate his kindness."
Bastien cocked his head to one side. A long stare followed, but in the end, he sighed. "Alistair is a good kid. Too liberal in views for a place like Veridien. The more the Martels insist that he conforms, the more he rebels. I'm not entirely surprised. He's always been willful, even as a child. He sees in you the other side, the other world. So don't take it personally if he doesn't live up to expectations. In case you have them. Regarding your friendship, I mean."
"Not really. I'm not looking for an exchange or a profit. I will be Ali's friend for as long as he'll have me."
"Suit yourself," Bastien said with another shrug.
"Do you dislike it?"
A luminous smile was the immediate answer to his question.
"You two seem to get along just fine. I remember Alistair being a great friend, too. Also, one with too many initiatives for his own good."
"I don't know if I'm brave enough to ask what you mean by that."
Bastien smirked. "Ah, you know. He'll have you going on wild goose chases before you know it. He likes to see connections where coincidences simply happen or exist. Too bad he doesn't use his inquisitive mind for better causes."
That qualified as intriguing.
"Are you saying that he believes in conspiracies? Secret societies? That kind of thing?"
"All of that and more. As children, we thought it was peculiar but in an amusing way to have him confabulate about things we knew for a fact that had never happened. After the age of ten, however, such fabrications have only brought Alistair more trouble and less applause from a captive audience."
If Bastien was subtly trying to undermine Ali's credibility, Lawrence was aware of it. He had no intention to let his distrust show, but, on the other hand, Ali had a tendency for theatrics, which didn't make him the most trustworthy source.
"Don't worry," Bastien added, mistaking Lawrence's prolonged silence for something else. "I will allow your friendship."
Lawrence gave his beautiful bed partner a startled look. "As if it mattered," he exclaimed.
A sudden burst of laughter made Bastien look more his age than anything else warned him that he'd walked right into a trap.
"I know it doesn't. That only makes you more irresistible, you know?"
"Because I don't bend the knee?" Lawrence joked.
"I believe you did, just earlier." His eyelids drooped lazily, while Bastien licked his lips slowly.
"I think I did a piss-pour job out of that," Lawrence said, somewhat miffed over having to admit it out loud.
"It's all right. I am willing to lend you my body for extensive practice."
"Who's the dirty dog now?" Lawrence teased.
Bastien sighed contently and wrapped an arm slowly around Lawrence's shoulders. "How about some sleep? Would you be fine with that now that we're both moderately satisfied?"
Lawrence scoffed. "Moderately? You really are harsh. Bear in mind that I'm only a beginner."
"It wasn't a comment on your performance. I liked it a lot and would love a second round. But Veridien isn't keen on truants, as you well know. Plus, I must wake up early and sneak back to my room. You are right about being cautious. I wouldn't want Herr Becker to chase you away before I finished having fun with you."
"You are such an incredible teaser," Lawrence remarked out loud.
"And? Do you hate it?"
Lawrence cupped a hand over Bastien's chest, squeezing a pectoral hard. His lips found their way to Bastien's mouth. "Not at all. But don't complain when I don't take you seriously."
"I promise not to do that."
"I'll believe it when I see it."
They draped around each other as they struggled to find a comfortable position. The heater Bastien brought would truly make a difference, Lawrence thought. Maybe he was starting to get a little soft, enjoying sophisticated food, warmth in his bedroom at night, and—
And Bastien Hawthorne pressed to him, completely naked.
Now that was one part he'd leave out of his weekly brief he'd have to send to his uncle soon.
***
He had managed, with some difficulty, to get Ali to study with him in the library – not the cozy one where the Golden Circle held their meetups, but a larger space where one could lose themselves between the stacks. Philosophy books were spread on the table between them, but neither of them looked ready to undertake their next assignment. Classical Greek didn't involve only the study of the language. Historical context was everything, and historical context meant understanding Ancient Greece's most prominent thinkers.
Lawrence had strategically chosen a study table further away from the other students milling about at that hour. Evenings came too soon, and they only had a few hours they could use to stuff with extra studying time. Ali would have skipped such an occasion, but Lawrence wanted to put the conspiracy theorist to work without having him suspect the slightest manipulation attempt.
"What was Lukas like?" he asked in a low voice, while slowly turning a page and pretending to understand what Plato envisioned for a perfect society.
"Are you jealous, Larry?" Ali said with a scoff. "The guy's dead. He can't really compete with you."
Ali seemed to be very well informed about the evolution of Lawrence's and Bastien's relationship without being told – presumably – by any of the parties involved. Seeing the nature of the relationships at Veridien, Lawrence couldn't say he was surprised. It worked to his advantage because he could start asking questions without worrying too much that he would come across as too nosy.
"I can't really compete with him, more like," he shot back.
"Well, you and he are very different animals," Ali said, leafing listlessly through the book opened in front of him.
"Is that a bad thing or a good thing?"
"It depends on who you ask," Ali said promptly.
Lawrence gave him the most disappointed look he could muster.
"I love you, Larry. Of course, you're different in a very good way," Ali said with mock self-importance.
"You've barely known me for three days," Lawrence pointed out.
"Four," Ali corrected him.
Lawrence took a moment. It was Thursday, and Ali was right. On Saturday afternoon, after the morning mandatory Latin, he'd have to slip away and head over to the village. Slip away wasn't, maybe, the best course of action, however. A truant like Ali would most likely know a few strategies he could employ to escape unnoticed. He still had time to decide.
Right now, he needed to focus on the information Ali could provide regarding the victim.
"Well?" he insisted. "Tell me about Lukas. You can't blame me for being curious."
Ali tapped his pencil against his nose. "Hmm, let's see. He was also serious like you."
"So not so different from me, after all?"
"He liked a good puzzle."
Lawrence observed Ali's face carefully. There was no sign that Ali had the slightest idea what occupied Lawrence's mind, provided what Lukas's notebook contained.
Still, it was an oddly specific thing to say out of the many Ali could pick to say about Lukas.
"Is that a random fact?"
"No, no," Ali said, pressing his pencil against the empty page before him. "He was obsessed with them. And he could draw very well."
That was something Lawrence knew already.
"There was this book he borrowed last from the library," Ali said, still lost in his reminiscence of his late fellow student. "I wonder if he ever brought it back."
"What book?" Lawrence asked.
"Ugh, I don't think I remember its title. He tended to read really dry, really boring stuff. But this one was a little odd."
Lawrence waited. Anticipation was killing him, but he didn't want Ali to start suspecting his eagerness to learn about Lukas as nefarious.
"About architecture. And symbols in Western European history or something of the sort," Ali said.
Architecture. That explained the sines and cosines calculations in Lukas's notebook. And symbolism? The white oak was likely to have a certain significance. Even if it turned out to lead nowhere, this clue intrigued Lawrence.
He needed to find the book Lukas had borrowed last.
TBC