Quid Pro Quo
It took Lawrence a thorough reminder of his training not to start examining his finding as soon as he got his hands on it. Even more control – Maestro Alvarez’s lessons wouldn’t go to waste, after all – was required of him to walk out of Lukas’s room, down the narrow spiral staircase and into the frigid night air. His lungs couldn’t expand enough to contain his excitement.
He had peeked inside the notebook once. And even at a glance, he had understood he was looking at the scribblings of someone who preferred to keep his most intimate thoughts hidden – and written in shorthand.
It had to be Lukas’s. Who else could have hidden such an object in his room? Lawrence climbed the stairs to his monk cell feeling like he was finally making headway, even if he might not find much except the ramblings of a young mind inside those pages. He had carefully tucked the notebook into his pants at the back so that no one he might meet in his path would notice that he had stolen something.
Stolen was a strong word anyway. Also, he had to give it to Lukas for finding such a great hiding place. It hadn’t even crossed his mind.
He was about to enter his room when he noticed the sliver of light on the floor under his door. Someone was there. Was Herr Becker paying night visits to see if the students were safe and sound, tucked underneath their blankets? Only, if someone was in his bed, would his door be open? Damn Veridien and its custom of leaving doors unlocked when the room was unoccupied. Of course, the same practice had delivered Lukas’s precious secret notebook to him, so Lawrence couldn’t complain much.
His lie was ready, so, after a moment necessary for regaining his bearings, he walked in.
His night visitor wasn’t Herr Becker. Lying on his belly in his bed, slowly perusing an old volume, was Bastien.
Completely nude.
“I love your taste in novels, Bear,” Bastien commented, slowly turning the page. His bare feet swung gently, capturing Lawrence’s attention for a moment too long. Why did he even have perfect ankles, elegant but strong? Like a stallion.
Lawrence shook his head to recover. “What are you doing here?”
He walked over to the desk, not knowing what to do momentarily. It was a bit too much to stare at Bastien’s round backside on full display with the lights on like this. At the same time, Lukas’s notebook burned his lower back.
“I wanted to see you,” Bastien said, not once looking at Lawrence, seemingly too caught up in his reading. “Since you were such a boor today that you didn’t even seek me out to apologize.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to apologize,” Lawrence said.
Wrong thing to say. Bastien turned to stare at him over his shoulder. “Is that so?”
It was in his eyes, Lawrence realized, the way they shot lightning. They were so expressive; sad, angry, serene, hiding secrets. As silly as it was to think that way, he knew he’d love to spend some time losing himself in them.
“It’s late, Bastien. You should be sleeping. In your room.”
Bastien shrugged and returned to his book. “I’m not tired,” he said petulantly.
That gave Lawrence enough time to remove the notebook from his pants and stash it quietly under a stack of papers on his desk. He’d have to find a better place for it, but later. Right now, he had the impossible task of removing the Sun King from his bed. Where were his clothes, anyway?
He spotted them, neatly folded and placed on the floor by the foot of the bed, on top of his boots. The oddity of such a reckless choice struck him as much as Bastien’s presence in his room. What was the point of folding them if they were ending up on the floor anyway?
“Bastien,” he said again, yawning for show, “if I apologize, will you leave?”
“No,” came the miffed reply.
Without the burden of the stolen goods upon his person, Lawrence discovered that he had little else to do besides admire the curve of Bastien’s back. He didn’t even dare to look lower, although he couldn’t help peeking at the scrumptious butt crack that enticed him from such a short distance.
With a sigh, he took Bastien’s clothes and placed them on the only chair in the room. “Do you always have someone to clean after you?”
“I don’t recall asking you to do any cleaning after me,” Bastien said.
“To what particular reason do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
Bastien snickered and his leg swinging intensified. “Stop being so stiff. You’re not attending the royal court.”
“According to historical evidence, seeing how naked you are, it definitely feels like I’m attending le lever*, Your Majesty.” Lawrence emphasized his words with a short, polite nod.
Bastien turned his head again. He was beautiful when he smirked, too. “You bought into this Sun King routine quite quickly, knight-errant. But I must correct you. Taking into account the late hour, you’re just in time for le coucher**, not le lever.”
“But I insist that you get dressed, Princeps,” Lawrence said with a thin smile. He truly needed to get Bastien out of his room. Of all the moments he could have come, he had to pick this one. It took a lot of effort not to let his eyes wander to the place where he’d hidden his newfound treasure. Bastien was no fool. If he sensed that something was off, he’d start needling.
“And I insist that I remain naked,” Bastien shot back. “Come to bed. It’s late.”
Spoken like that, his words sounded completely domestic. As if they were a married couple quarrelling over their bedtime.
Lawrence weighed his options. In the end, he decided that he was strong enough to throw Bastien – and his lovely, gorgeous backside – out of his room, without adding too much insult to injury. The only not so easy to tackle problem was getting the Sun King back into his clothes.
“I will help you get dressed,” he announced.
“Ugh, you are quite insufferable. Very well.” Bastien, much to Lawrence’s relief, got to his feet.
A very short-lived relief, because Lawrence faced Bastien’s nudity from the front now, which happened to be just as lovely and harmonious as the rest of him. At a glance, Lawrence had noticed the slim waist, the perfectly-molded abdominal muscles, pectorals of the precisely right size, rosy nipples, and of course, Bastien’s cock, half-erect, and jutting out from its nest of fuzzy blond hair. At least he hadn’t gotten as far as the ball sac. That would have been positively outrageous. There had to be no doubt that Bastien wasn’t lacking in that department, either. At least, Lawrence would be spared having the actual image of the pair in question imprinted on his brain.
“Are you going to help me dress?” Bastien asked.
“Are you serious?”
“You keep treating me like royalty. Forgive me for accepting the role you decided to impose on me. Come on, let’s see your skills as the king’s attendant at work.”
It was ridiculous even to think that he could get so close to Bastien – a naked, enticing Bastien – without suffering a few seizure attempts. Lawrence had limited medical knowledge, so he didn’t know what to compare his immediate suffering with for lack of experience concerning the subject matter.
But he needed to do it, because Bastien was standing in front of him, holding his arms by his sides, in a full display of stubbornness. Lawrence turned and began picking up Bastien’s clothes, one by one. Should he start with the underwear or the socks? Unnerved by his own lack of focus, he grabbed Bastien’s underwear, something white and extremely small for the endowment the man was hiding in his pants.
“Here,” he said, holding out the damn thing. “Put this on.”
“You put this on.”
“They wouldn’t fit me,” Lawrence argued, realizing too late the meaning of Bastien’s words. “I doubt they fit you.” He risked a look at Bastien. If he focused on his visitor’s face and nothing else, he would be fine.
Not that it was easy to face an enraged king. A few strands of hair had gotten in Bastien’s eyes, and his bottom lip jutted out, making Lawrence think of all the improper things he’d love to do to it.
“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Bastien challenged him.
“Fine,” Lawrence said, too exasperated by the whole thing to postpone the inevitable. “Just… let’s do it.”
He had never dressed anyone else in his life. He had never undressed anyone else in his life, either. The women he’d been with took care of such details. So, it was awkward to have Bastien lift one foot, then the other and then pull his underwear up, up, up.
Lawrence closed his eyes so he didn’t end up staring directly at Bastien’s naked cock, although he would swear that his cheek brushed by it briefly. That made him clumsier and fighting to get his visitor back into his undies pushed him, gradually, onto the losing side.
“See?” Bastien taunted him. “They fit.”
Now he had to look. “Barely,” he said. He had no idea men could wear sexy underwear. Now that he saw Bastien wearing such a pair, all he had known about such things was turned on its head. The high side cut allowed the viewer to admire the elegance of the hip, and the v-shaped path of fabric molded over the wearer’s manhood in such a way that it was difficult to look elsewhere.
“I can’t believe it,” Bastien said with a scoff. “You’d rather gawk at me in my underwear than when I’m naked. But I’ve tortured you long enough. Let me get dressed.”
Lawrence moved away, blushing to the tips of his ears. He didn’t know where to look, while Bastien was busy getting inside his clothes. Was this strange young man truly the one to have pushed Lukas to his death? Lawrence knew – of course, he knew – that he didn’t have enough information to establish Bastien’s guilt or lack thereof, as much as he was aware of how he wished that wasn’t true.
But if Bastien wasn’t responsible, someone else was. Someone from here, someone who could—
“I’m coming with you,” he announced, as soon as his mind identified the danger.
“My room is not the best choice for a little tryst, Lawrence,” Bastien admonished him in his most obnoxious voice.
“I’m not interested in having a tryst with you,” Lawrence shot back. “I’m only going to accompany you. It’s late.”
Bastien turned to give him a suspicious look. “I don’t need a chaperon, Sir Galahad. Do you fancy yourself a member of my royal court? Just so you know, admission is not easily granted.”
He could simply let Bastien leave on his own. But once an idea – an unsettling idea – got in his head, Lawrence simply couldn’t ignore it. A murderer could be at large on the academy’s grounds. But even if Bastien accepted his company, was he really going to leave Lukas’s notebook unguarded?
Damn. He had pushed himself into a corner by allowing the distraction – Bastien – to get to his head.
“I will be on my way now,” Bastien said. “This isn’t, however, my last attempt to seduce you, so be warned.”
“You’re not leaving,” Lawrence blurted out the only solution he could think of on such short notice.
His tone must have been too harsh. People often told him they felt put off by his general attitude. He was only trying to be direct and efficient.
“Excuse me?” Bastien turned to blast him with angry eyes. “Who do you think you are to give me orders?”
Lawrence put his hands up. “I don’t intend to keep you by force. But it’s cold outside. I wanted to say that you can sleep here if you wish.”
Bastien relaxed. His face was all a smile again. “I’m beginning to hate you in the most delicious way possible, Lawrence. You pretend to be one cute giant bear only as a decoy, don’t you?”
“I thought I was a knight, not a bear,” Lawrence pointed out for lack of anything better to say.
Bastien rolled his eyes and began unbuttoning his coat. “You’ll be one once I start cuddling with you.”
Now that ushered in another issue.
“I will sleep on the floor.”
“No, you will not,” Bastien said matter-of-factly. “You don’t have a heater, and it’s freezing in here.”
“May I be so bold to point out that you were naked when I walked in here?”
“You may be so bold as to join me in bed. Just as naked as I was when you walked in here. And I will be again in a moment.”
Bastien had to be a master of undressing because it took him less than two minutes to be in the nude again.
“I’d rather wear something,” Lawrence said.
“We will have to exchange body heat to survive the night.”
“Look who’s the dramatic one now.”
Bastien laughed. “That means we’re alike. Come, Lawrence. We need our sleep. You have no idea what day is tomorrow.”
“What day is tomorrow?” Lawrence asked automatically.
“I will let it be a surprise. But if you don’t want both of us to be utterly exhausted before our trials, which, by the way, start in the morning, you will do better to obey me.”
He needed a schedule with the lessons he had to attend. People at Veridien apparently functioned by laws and rules only they knew and understood, while students, especially new transfers, remained none the wiser.
He kept an undershirt and his underwear on, despite Bastien’s protestations. But he could do nothing about letting his visitor have his way. Only that he was the one holding the mercurial Hawthorne heir in lieu of a teddy bear to sleep with, not the other way around.
This night was going to be pure hell, Lawrence decided. The thought, however, was far from gloomy. Bastien pushed his backside against him and used one of his arms as his personal blanket. For convenience, Lawrence found it not at all unpleasant to let his hand rest in Bastien’s, their linked fingers against Bastien’s chest. Lawrence’s bent elbow served as the perfect pillow for the royal head, which meant that they had everything they needed for a good night’s sleep.
At least Bastien hadn’t lied about exchanging body heat. Unlike previous nights, Lawrence didn’t feel cold at all. While they were buried underneath the heavy wool blanket supplied with the rest of the sheets, they had no problem being naked. Partially naked in his case.
“Good night, Lawrence,” Bastien said. “I’m letting you off lightly. This time.”
Their bodies lay aligned on one side, making Lawrence ache in impossible places. His knees brushed against the back of Bastien’s calves, his thighs against his bedfellow’s hamstrings. He could sense the firmness of each muscle, the smoothness of skin, the delicate hairs covering it. Each time he inhaled, he took in the scent of Bastien’s hair; and when he exhaled, the warmth of his breath bounced back to him, making him aware even more than he already was that he had someone in his bed.
Someone beautiful, who was also the owner of a perfect butt now firmly pressed against his crotch. Yes, he would die. Tonight, he would meet his end, and it wouldn’t be the cold claiming him, but the terrible heat blooming everywhere inside him.
“Why do you want to seduce me, Bastien?” he asked minutes later, when the other’s steady breathing should have warned him against disturbing such a peaceful sleep.
There was no reply. Whether Bastien knew well how to pretend or he was truly asleep, it didn’t matter. The question lingered in the air. Lawrence closed his eyes and sighed. Without his noticing, sleep overtook him.
***
When he woke up, dawn was breaking, a pale light slipping into his monk cell from the tall window.
He hadn’t dreamed it all. Bastien was still there, in his arms, sleeping like an angel. Lawrence winced at the pressure in his nether regions. Like any other healthy man his age, he usually woke up with an erection.
It had been hard enough last night to keep his body – and impure thoughts – in check, but now, nature claimed its rights and stubbornly held on. Lawrence tried to move, but Bastien stirred right away.
“Bastien,” he whispered, “wake up. You should go to your room.”
A low growl was the immediate reply. Bastien held him prisoner, not only by not giving up on his pillow – Lawrence’s arm – but also by holding his hand close to his chest.
“I can feel your early morning enthusiasm,” Bastien mumbled. “Are you sure you want to wake up, seeing the state you’re in?”
“It’s a natural biological reaction,” Lawrence whispered back. He didn’t even know why he was whispering. They were alone in the room. Only the light of day made things awkward. Talking about his erection with Bastien wasn’t on his agenda.
“Which only means that it must be addressed. Unless you’ve made a chastity pledge.”
“You’re keeping me trapped. Even if I wanted to do something about it, which I don’t, I wouldn’t be able to move.”
Bastien chuckled. Lawrence enjoyed sex, but he didn’t normally see it as more than a pleasant way to get rid of certain itches when the need arose. However, in Bastien’s presence, sex turned into sweet torture, and not only because it would be appalling even to think of becoming intimate with the handsome young man, but because it elicited a need inside Lawrence that went beyond his comprehension.
“Let me do something then,” Bastien proposed.
“No, not a good idea.”
“It would be quid pro quo, don’t worry.” Bastien moved their linked hands together until they reached his crotch.
Lawrence didn’t start at the sensation of touching something smooth like silk and slightly moist. He knew he could remove his hand and scold Bastien for playing such cruel games. But instead, his fingers twitched, earning a small swelling reaction from the thing they were touching.
“Take your cock out,” Bastien whispered his next order. “Yes, like that.”
Lawrence felt Bastien moving until the length of his cock was trapped between his bed partner’s muscular buttocks. Was this a sex position? Or a sex practice? He had to admit that he was rather dull when it came to the possibilities the human body could offer.
That only meant that he was grateful for being guided. The squeeze on his manhood was barely enough, but seeing his condition, it would do. At least Bastien didn’t have to show him the ropes when he allowed him to grip his cock.
It felt good to hold Bastien’s sex in his hand. It was warm and silk-like to the touch. Lawrence moved his hand slowly at first, pulling the skin over the head, the way he usually enjoyed it, earning an appreciative moan from Bastien.
“Faster,” Bastien pleaded while rubbing his backside against Lawrence and using his lovely mounds to gain momentum for whatever he had in mind.
Partly, without a doubt, the proximity of such an exquisite person in his bed was to blame for the speed at which he reached the point of no return. Lawrence gasped, his mouth wet and needing something. He didn’t even think about what he was doing as he sank his teeth into Bastien’s shoulder.
Everything went white, like in a nuclear blast. Bastien twitched against him, quivering and whispering something crude, while Lawrence held him down by means of an irreverent bite.
He continued to stroke Bastien’s cock while coming down from his climax. His teeth tingled, making him realize the impunity of what he had done. It was, however, too late for regrets. His entire body was winding down, leaving behind the marvelous sensation of being spent in the most wonderful way.
“That was my last drop, Bear,” Bastien teased him. “You can stop now.”
Lawrence pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned, making his impossible bed partner laugh.
“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” Bastien asked. His voice was unusually tender, making Lawrence doubt, not only the meaning of those playful words, but many other things, such as his sanity.
“Aren’t you worried? What if Herr Becker is checking your room as we speak?” Lawrence had no idea what to do with himself or at least with his hand, still wet with Bastien’s release. The faint earthy smell was a good indication of how great they both felt.
It was only a little, friendly exchange, Lawrence tried to convince himself. Bastien had to be doing such things with his adorers all the time.
“He wouldn’t dare,” Bastien said breezily, signaling to Lawrence that he could be lying. Even so, he finally moved and jumped out of the bed with the grace of a feline.
Lawrence watched him walk to the sink. Before coming here, he couldn’t remember having been taken with male beauty as a general rule. For all intents and purposes, sex was something he’d only done with women, usually older and more experienced than he was. And now he was finding himself lost in admiring Bastien’s perfect buttocks and lean, yet muscular legs.
When he noticed the mess he’d made on Bastien’s back, he jumped to his feet. His undershirt was ruined, and dread overcame him. The personnel here were in charge of washing the sheets and everything What would they think now?
All in due time. He’d find a way to deal with his dirty clothes. Now he needed to wipe the evidence of his inability to restrain himself from Bastien’s back.
“So sorry about that,” he mumbled and removed his undershirt. It was a mess anyway, so he used it to clumsily pat Bastien’s skin.
“What are you doing?” Bastien asked, turning his head. He had just splashed water over his face, and he looked really nice like that, with droplets running down his face, and especially his lips.
“I--” Lawrence started and stopped, unable to give voice to his thoughts.
Bastien grinned and squeezed his right pectoral hard, not forgetting to pull at his chest chair when he drew his hand back. “You are adorable. Are you a virgin?”
“No,” Lawrence replied promptly. “Are you?”
Bastien burst into laughter. He turned to continue washing. “Hasn’t Alistair filled you in on my terrible indiscretions?”
Lawrence didn’t want to mention Lukas. He truly didn’t. So he kept his mouth shut.
“You know,” Bastien said, clutching the edge of the sink with both hands, his shoulders tense all of a sudden, “they say I killed him.”
Lawrence felt his blood turning cold. “Who are they?”
“Alistair told you. Very well.”
Bastien had left the water running, and Lawrence felt a small muscle in his jaw twitch. He couldn’t stand the idea of wasting anything, not even water. But it wasn’t that; he worried that its gurgling sound would cover whatever Bastien was trying to confess, and he’d miss a syllable or the meaning of a word. His ears hurt from tension.
“Why would Alistair suspect you of such a horrible thing?” he asked, struggling to hide his irritation.
“Not him. Don’t tell me he told you something as ridiculous as that.”
“No, he only told me that you and Lukas were… lovers.”
Bastien sighed and began washing his face again, moving to his torso and arms methodically. Was their conversation already over?
“Why would anyone think you killed him?” Lawrence continued. Not even for the sake of Bastien’s gorgeous backside would he let this go.
“Why?” Bastien echoed. He ran his hands through his hair, wet as they were. Lawrence caught a glimpse of his handsome, haunted face in the mirror. “Because it’s the most convenient thing to believe about the whole thing. Also, the most pleasurable in some cases. Wouldn’t it make for a great headline? Heir to an empire murders his boyfriend to conceal his sexuality.”
Lawrence felt his tension rising. Why was Bastien doing this? That was as good a motive as any other. Actually, yes, it would make a great headline. A terrible one.
“I have no intention of concealing my sexuality,” Bastien continued, his voice equal and steady now. “So, they might just be awfully disappointed.”
“Who are they?” He insisted on the same question because it mattered.
Bastien shrugged. “Pass me a towel.”
Lawrence obeyed quickly. “You shouldn’t let them get away with this,” he said, watching Bastien dry himself, while he leaned against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Fighting the world is a losing battle,” Bastien said.
“Doesn’t it bother you? To be accused of something you didn’t do?”
Bastien’s eyes were sharp as knives as they met his. “The more I defend myself, the guiltier I will look. There is no evidence to support their claims. Unless,” he said, lowering his voice, “they are willing to fabricate such evidence, I have no reason to do anything.”
He moved away and started dressing in silence. Lawrence watched him, without saying a word, either. Could it be that Bastien, along with his Golden Circle, hell, along with the entire academy, knew why he was here? The signs were everywhere.
But Lawrence wouldn’t fabricate evidence. If it existed, he would find it. For all he knew, Bastien could be manipulating him, unbothered by using underhanded tactics. Homme fatal, was there such a thing?
“See you later, Lawrence,” Bastien said. He gave Lawrence a long look. Then he reached out with one hand, brushing his fingers against Lawrence’s abdomen.
When he put his fingers in his mouth and smiled, Lawrence understood why.
And he was blushing again, though he needed to stop the habit if he fancied himself an investigator.
TBC
*Le lever – a ritual established during the reign of the French king Louis XIV which involved the presence of the court nobles while the monarch woke, washed and dressed for the day.
*Le coucher – a similar ritual to le lever; it took place in the evening, when the king undressed and went to bed. Both rituals served as crucial tools for etiquette and hierarchy at the royal court.
Author's note:
Thank you for reading!
@Derek - the relationships among the Golden Circle, and at Veridien, in general, tend to be complicated... and more on the notebook later.
@Geoffrey Fox - I'd say... Lukas left it there... to be found...
@DavidB - I hope to surprise everyone with the big reveal!
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