A-Noir
Some things were easier said than done. Lawrence had promised Ali that he’d take care of keeping Bastien away from his room come evening, but the Royal Court kept so close to their king all throughout the day, during lessons, as well as outside of them, that it was impossible for an outsider like the new transfer student to approach him without drawing unnecessary suspicion.
With the hours ticking away, he needed to do something, so once study time was over, he decided to pay Bastien a visit in his vast quarters. Hopefully, he was there, and Lawrence wouldn’t need to chase him all over Veridien. Per their understanding, Ali had been in detention, at least the Veridien version of it. In other words, Lawrence hadn’t seen his partner all day.
Climbing the stairs to Bastien’s room, he paid close attention to his surroundings. The lack of a balustrade, now he realized, made his skin prickle with apprehension. According to what he knew so far, a no-alcohol policy was in effect, so at least a drunk student didn’t risk falling to his death while climbing these stairs. Still, Lawrence kept closer to the wall than the first time he’d visited.
Bastien didn’t hesitate to show his surprise. “Bear, what are you doing here?” He didn’t invite Lawrence in and instead pulled the door shut after himself after he carefully stepped into the corridor as if he wanted to prevent his unexpected visitor from peeking inside.
“Do you have people over?”
“Just Norris,” Bastien said. “I’m tutoring him. Latin isn’t a personal favorite of his, and let’s leave it at that.”
“And you don’t want him to see me because--”
The electrical wall torches had been designed to mimic the warm light of their counterparts from centuries ago. They made Bastien’s face look dreamy, his facial features softened and unclear. The slight dampness was present here, as well, chilling bone and muscle alike. Lawrence didn’t know if that was the reason why he scooted closer to Bastien, but a need to embrace him and hold him was present, giving him all sorts of impulses to deal with.
“Because he’s not particularly taken with you,” Bastien said hurriedly.
“I do recall the workout he gave me in arms,” Lawrence said. “He’s a strong fellow. Also, your faithful admirer.”
Bastien let out a small grunt that could mean anything. Then, he put a hand on Lawrence’s chest. His touch was enough to ignite a small fire inside Lawrence’s rib cage. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re jealous.” The idea seemed to please the king of Veridien.
“I have nothing to be jealous about,” Lawrence said.
“How so?” Bastien’s lips hovered dangerously close to his. “Not even a little?”
“If you’d wanted Norris, you would’ve made him yours by now,” Lawrence replied, his pulse quickening in anticipation of a kiss. “But you’re not so cruel as to play with him. You must know how he feels about you.”
“You see me as a better version of myself.” Bastien’s words were tender, skittering like ghosts over Lawrence’s lips. “What makes you so sure I wouldn’t be cruel?”
“Deduction,” Lawrence said promptly. “Norris must have been part of your Royal Court for a long time. And he doesn’t interest you.”
Bastien laughed, torturing him a bit longer. Lawrence wrapped one arm around him, pulling him close. There was only this much he could endure without kissing Bastien.
They chased each other’s mouths playfully until Lawrence decided he’d had enough and bunched his other hand in Bastien’s silky hair. The lips that had denied him earlier opened with a soft, satisfied sigh that quickly turned into a barely audible moan.
Lawrence came up for breath only to realize that he was there to tell Bastien not to visit later. How was he supposed to deliver his lie when he had the king himself in his arms?
“Ah, damn it,” he groaned and pressed his forehead against Bastien’s. At least his regret was genuine. “We can’t be together tonight.”
“Why not?” Bastien asked. His long, elegant fingers played a secret tune on Lawrence’s shoulders.
“Ali is intent on having me listen to an entire album. Or two. Or I don’t know how many. He complained so much that I’m not the best friend I’m supposed to be that I surrendered. Can you forgive me? He’ll end up having me stay up late, and he even made me promise that I’d accompany him back to his room, regardless of the hour.”
This way, if anyone saw him and Ali together, they wouldn’t be able to tell Bastien anything he didn’t already know.
Bastien laughed softly and brushed his lips across Lawrence’s cheek, stopping at the corner of his mouth, which he bit in passing, playful as ever. “You might not be jealous, Bear, but I can be terribly so. Should I worry about Ali wanting you all to himself?”
“No, not at all. He is, according to the man himself, an aesthete. Therefore, not the kind to act upon his admiration of other people.”
“That is certainly true. I am still surprised by how much he enjoys your company. Maybe because you’re far too obliging. I will have a word with him.”
“That would only make me appear as hopeless.” Lawrence stopped for a moment. “He cares about you. And you called him Ali, not Alistair, which sounded so distant when you said it before.”
“Careful, Lawrence. You don’t strike me as a professional go-between. Let’s not speak of Alistair anymore. Come here. I will surely miss you tonight.”
What could Norris be thinking about Bastien being out of the room with a stranger, neglecting him, and their lesson? Lawrence thought Bastien wasn’t cruel, but wasn’t this cruelty in its own right? As for him, he was more than a mere bystander. More precisely, he was a participant in such cruelty, and one without the capacity to feel remorse, apparently.
Bastien kissed him earnestly. A little shyness, the same as Lawrence had noticed at first when kissing him, had remained, readily replaced by a hunger that echoed the heat in Lawrence’s chest.
And lower. He’d never been so physical with someone the way he was now with Bastien. Now, as opposed to his past indiscretions, he wanted to touch the other’s body everywhere, in a vain and impossible attempt to have his fingertips always remember the shape, the firmness, or softness of the skin and muscles underneath that they were roaming over.
If he was out of his mind to think and act on his thoughts like this, Bastien was no better. His hands were already in Lawrence’s pants.
Which promptly sobered him up.
He caught Bastien’s wrists, enjoying the beating of a strong pulse underneath his fingers. For many, Bastien had to seem so untouchable, so unattainable. Yet Lawrence had him here, at his mercy and discretion, and whenever they met, alone like this, the desire they shared was mutual and immediate.
“We can’t.”
“Don’t deny me,” Bastien teased him. “You’re at fault for making me want you so.”
“What about your pupil?”
“He will not bother us,” Bastien promised.
“Someone could walk up the stairs and find us.”
“What happened with living in the moment, Lawrence?” Bastien whispered the words against his lips, barely touching them.
Lawrence pondered his options for a moment. Then, he turned Bastien quickly, making him face the wall.
“Hands here,” he ordered in a low voice, taking Bastien’s arms to help him assume the position.
“But--” came the first protest.
“No. You must come first.”
The double meaning wasn’t lost on Bastien, who chuckled and let his head drop coquettishly on his shoulder. Lawrence licked the exposed neck hungrily. He kept going at it, encouraged by Bastien’s deepening breathing, and worked fast to sneak one hand in the other’s pants. It looked like he wasn’t the only one who was ready all the time. His fist fit over Bastien’s erection like a nut over its bolt.
“Lawrence,” Bastien mumbled urgently.
“It’s all right,” he murmured back. “You need this.”
The only response from Bastien was a strong push against Lawrence’s crotch. How he enjoyed the sensation of having Bastien’s lovely rump pressed against his aching cock like this. Even with both of them clothed, he could feel it. Holding his lover tightly, he let his imagination run wild.
How would it feel to sink into the king’s body heat, dive so deep and fast that they would both be out of breath? Lawrence didn’t recall having a preference for anal sex, but in this case, it seemed like the choice that would draw him even more inexorably toward the case’s prime suspect.
“Say something,” Bastien begged him quietly. “Anything that crosses your mind. What goes through your head right now.”
“You might hate it,” Lawrence said, grunting as the scrumptious ass rubbing against him pushed back even harder.
“Try me. Be silent only if it’s not about us.”
“It is.”
“Then say it.”
Lawrence moved his lips close to Bastien’s ear, as close as he could manage. “I want to fuck you.”
A tremor shook Bastien’s body. He was now moving his hips, pushing into Lawrence’s fist desperately. “You do?” he asked.
“Badly. I want to hold you like this and fuck you and make you come over and over.”
It looked like he didn’t even have to work that hard to achieve results. Bastien was spending himself over his hand, his moans turning rapid and multiplying, while he struggled to keep his voice down.
“Bear,” Bastien groaned softly, pressing his head against the wall.
Lawrence brought his wet hand to Bastien’s cheek, brushing lightly against it. “You don’t have to say anything.”
Bastien’s shoulders shook with laughter. “You are so romantic for someone your size.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Bastien turned and began wiping Lawrence’s hand slowly with his handkerchief. Since he was busy, Lawrence took the opportunity to straighten Bastien’s pants.
“It means that you are full of surprises.”
Another kiss. This one lingered, the same as Bastien’s fingers on the side of his neck, imprinting on the skin there for safekeeping.
The door opened, interrupting their prolonged goodbye. It looked like Norris thought Bastien’s absence warranted his intervention.
“Ah, Lawrence,” he said, blinking to adjust to the semi-dark in the corridor.
It was easy to smell Norris’s embarrassment from several feet away. But it wasn’t Lawrence’s business to help the royal courtier in any way. Without a doubt, Bastien would serve his faithful friend the lie he believed best fit the situation.
“Hello, Norris. Having a good evening so far?”
Norris stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants. He wore a crimson cashmere vest, a white shirt, and grey pants. His clothes were very similar to Anton’s attire. Were those supplied by the academy, too? It seemed like it. Only that he hadn’t received anything besides his uniform.
The little oversights would annoy anyone else, maybe even cultivate a false perception of being inferior, but not Lawrence.
“Yes,” Norris replied after a short, awkward silence. “Bastien, should I leave?”
“No. Lawrence was just on his way,” Bastien said airily.
Norris’s face was difficult to read, obscured as it was against the lighted backdrop of Bastien’s room.
“Very well,” Norris said stiffly. “Should we continue then?” There was something military-like in his manner that made Lawrence wonder about his background. He’d have to ask Ali for details. Seeing how his partner was convinced someone was trying to hurt Bastien – and had even succeeded by pushing Lukas to his death, according to the same theory – it served to have a good look at the king’s court.
“Let’s see each other tomorrow,” Bastien said, turning away from Lawrence.
He didn’t usually give weight to slight annoyances and people who mistook his silence for agreeing to be misjudged, but Norris’s next words prompted a different reaction.
“He didn’t upset you, did he?”
Bastien didn’t have time to protest. Lawrence pulled him back and cupped his face to give him a kiss, enjoying the way Bastien didn’t resist and kissed him back. After all, everyone close to Bastien was knowledgeable as to where he was sleeping more often than not these nights.
“Not at all,” Bastien replied, but he was looking away from Norris and straight at Lawrence. “Good night, Lawrence.”
“Have fun studying, you two,” Lawrence said, letting his hand caress Bastien’s jawline before moving it away.
Norris turned slightly, and his face came into full view in the light from inside. The corners of his mouth pulled down, and a frown made his handsome face appear older and sterner. How much did it hurt to be hopelessly in love with Bastien? That was a good reminder not to get involved more than required. It was only physical attraction, Lawrence told himself, something he had plenty of experience with.
Of course, all of his involvement with Bastien was wrong in the light of his investigation. A certain degree of helplessness attached itself to the developing relationship between him and the Sun King. What was he to do about it when he’d have to leave? Officially, he was at Veridien for the entire academic year. His uncle didn’t expect him to get results quickly, but Lawrence knew that his stint at Veridien couldn’t – wouldn’t – take this long.
And as soon as he uncovered the truth, his stay here would be over. Would the intensity of his interactions with Bastien fade by then?
Past experience, again, told him as much. But Lawrence knew, despite not wanting to take a good look at what he truly thought, that suffering like Norris when the inevitable came to pass would be nothing unusual.
“I want a word with Lawrence if you don’t mind, Bastien,” Norris said.
Bastien looked as if he were about to deny his courtier's direct request, but Lawrence intervened.
“I think I know what you want to tell me. I will not hurt Bastien.”
Norris gave him a shocked stare. They weren’t used to the likes of him at this academy.
“Anton has already warned me. I suppose you can be imaginative in your threats, but let’s not waste words.”
Norris said nothing for a moment. “All right,” he said, disconcerted, running one hand through his hair. “Can you two be at least a tad more discreet? Herr Becker will not condone it. Nor our Rector.”
“We will,” Bastien said. The height of his cheeks was pink now. Despite his earlier recklessness, it looked like he wasn’t so keen on airing his laundry in public. He took Norris by the arm. “Come now. You are too far behind, and Professor Moreau might not be so lenient next lesson.” He spoke too quickly and licked his lips, biting on the bottom one from time to time.
Such shyness would’ve appeared incongruous if it had been anyone else. But Lawrence saw it as a trait, an endearing one, and more than quirkiness of character. Bastien had desires he knew he should fight if he were to listen to the discipline ingrained in his bones here at Veridien, and perhaps throughout his entire upbringing.
Lawrence tipped an imaginary hat at Norris and gave Bastien a wink. If it was a role he had to play, so be it. What he truly thought would remain concealed until further orders.
***
Lawrence picked up a book since he couldn’t indulge in perusing Lukas’s notebook at length with Ali’s impending arrival. But time was crawling like a tired worm over a dead leaf, and he could only do this much not to check the clock on his desk every five minutes. If his partner couldn’t make it, Lawrence would have to dispose of the statue's remains himself before morning. The personnel in charge of cleaning would have quite a story to tell Herr Becker once they discovered the garbage bags underneath Lawrence’s bed.
He jumped at the first knock to get the door. Ali was there, sweaty and breathless.
“You won’t believe what a hydra Becker is,” his partner complained, stepping inside and brushing the hair out of his eyes. “I thought he’d have me sleeping in the library tonight.”
“Catch your breath,” Lawrence said. “And give me your Walkman for a bit.”
“Sure.” Ali took his headphones off and placed the device in Lawrence’s hand. “Do you finally recognize how amazing this music is?”
“No, but I don’t leave things to chance. There. Pen and paper. Write down the name of the artist and the titles of all the tracks.”
“All right,” Ali agreed, though he didn’t look like he understood why Lawrence was making so many demands.
Lawrence only gestured at him to do as told and placed the headphones over his ears. He could bet that all the songs sounded the same, but he needed a general idea of what they sounded like.
Ali’s Walkman offered excellent fidelity. The headphones canceled all outside noise, so it felt like an odd experience to follow Ali with his eyes, while the synth pop notes poured into his ears. Choreography with music as background.
All the world’s a stage.
And all that.
Lawrence slid the bolt over to make sure no one would come in and catch them in the act of removing the garbage bags that held incriminating evidence. As for their dangerous trip that involved getting rid of them, they had time to worry and strategize now that his partner – in crime and otherwise – was here. Ali was bent over the sheet of paper at the desk, writing down dutifully, hunched like an old man.
Hmm. He’d noticed certain mannerisms that indicated that Ali might not be able to see too well. Did he need glasses? If so, why didn’t he use them?
“Did you break your glasses?” he asked, handing Ali back his Walkman once it seemed like he had finished writing down the album information.
Ali gave him a startled look. “What glasses?” He tried to act confused, but Lawrence liked to think that he wasn’t so easy to fool.
“You don’t see well.” It was better to be blunt than drag this out.
Ali pursed his lips and squirmed in his chair. “Yes, you caught me, what can I say?”
“Is it because of your poor eyesight that you dislike studying? Why not wear glasses?”
Ali gave him such a dirty look that Lawrence regretted his question. Still, he was interested in the answer, because it might just confirm one of Veridien’s concealed beliefs.
“Really? Who else do you see wearing glasses around here?”
Lawrence pondered his answer. “Eldric.”
“Yeah. And where is he on the grand hierarchy here, at Veridien?”
“Where are you?” Lawrence asked.
Ali’s lips twisted in a grimace. “Do you always have to cut to the bone?”
“If I can help it, no.”
“So you can’t help it now.” Ali looked away and remained silent, prompting Lawrence to wonder whether he should just apologize. “Well, it’s better to be accused of not wanting to learn than of not being able to.”
“What about your brother?” If Ali was the only twin with the disadvantage, it was no wonder Ali didn’t want to be forced to be measured against his sibling all the time.
“He wears contacts,” Ali replied. “I can’t. I had a bad infection some years ago, so the good doctor who saw me forbade me to wear such things ever again. Also, his eyesight is not as bad as mine. But don’t think that it means I can’t be your partner. I came to you with the idea of finding who murdered Lukas.”
Lawrence didn’t precisely remember things the same way, but he let it slide. “It never crossed my mind. Don’t you worry about your eyes getting worse, though?”
Ali shrugged. “I do. That’s why I can barely wait to be out of here. Since my family will be convinced by then that I’m hardly useful, they’ll let me be. And then, I’ll be able to make music without them harassing me all the time.”
“Music? Is this something you created?” He pointed at the cassette, which Ali had removed from his Walkman to flip over.
“Yes,” Ali said, looking down and pretending to be preoccupied with sliding the cassette back into its slot.
“Why didn’t you say so? Wait, do the others know of your passion?”
“Bastien does for sure.”
Of course. Bastien had said something about Ali being too absorbed by his music, but Lawrence hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Awful music, Bastien had said. Ugh, now that had to sting. Ali had that easygoing air about him, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be hurt in his feelings, especially when it came to his passion. Lawrence felt bad about dismissing the quality of Ali’s music. He even felt the need to ask Ali for the Walkman back so he could listen to his songs again.
“How does he feel about your passion?” he asked.
Ali shrugged. “He thinks it’s bad. Only the most refined food, clothes, everything for his royal ass. My music, in his opinion, is too plebeian.”
Lawrence knew that an offhand compliment wouldn’t do. Ali was sharp. “That might be true since it’s not opera or classical music, but it would definitely work at the disco.”
Ali grinned at him. “Do you think so?”
“I’m not an expert, but under the right circumstances, I might feel like dancing to it.”
“Are you sure? Show me.”
“Ali, stop teasing me. We have work to do. What’s the plan?”
Ali got up from the desk and handed Lawrence the paper with the information he’d required earlier.
“A-Noir? Cool stage name.”
“I know,” Ali said, overly enthusiastic now. For someone who’d been forced to study all day long, he was quite energetic. He smacked his hands together. “Let’s do this, Larry. I’ll check if the coast is clear. You get the bags. I’ll help you, don’t worry.”
Lawrence nodded and began removing the bags from underneath his bed. He’d have to check later for any pieces that might have slipped out. He could only be thankful that they used quite sturdy garbage bags at Veridien. And hope that no one would notice the few that were missing.
TBC
@Geoffrey Fox - it really seems like a lot of people are thinking the same about the boot print...
@Derek - Lawrence is a true detective! He already has a plan for identifying the wearer - because of his photographic memory and the other resources he can use... it's a pretty special type of boot, and that's all I'm about to say for now. And yes, that person was fast.
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