The Book of the Blue House

He stood on his tiptoes and kissed him, and then they entered a lobby where others were sitting. Gabriel was there and so was Cal, and there were several Blues Matteo had never met. They were all in a windowed room, sitting about playing chess or reading, some of them scribbling in journals while some were frankly coming out of bathrooms naked, or coming out of hallways equally naked and rumpled, and no one seemed to care, so Matt decided not to care either.

A tall dark man with a face flat as a door came by and whispered to Quinton, and Quinton nodded and then gestured for Matt to follow him.

They left and went into another, smaller room and Quinton, lurching nobly stopped and, his face shining, his hands open in welcome, he called to the nervous men:

“Julius.”

The one who must have been Julius put up a nervous hand, and Matt watched Quinton take it and say, “Good morning. I hope you’re well.”

“Yes. Yes,” Julius said.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Quinton told him, rubbing his hand. “And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Alright?”

Julius nodded his head, and he and Quinton crossed to a door on the other side of that room which led to the Blue Rooms.

“Hold the door for Matt,” Quinton said to Julius. “He’s our friend.”

Julius did, smiling sheepishly, and Matt followed.

In the halls of the Blue Rooms chairs lined the walls and some doors were open to scenes of pleasure that seemed to terrify young Julius, but there were chairs and alcoves and now Quinton said, “We will go into this room, see? And Matt will have a seat right here while we talk about what you want. I will leave the door open so that he might come in if we wish for him. Is that fair?”

Julius nodded and repeated. “It is fair.”

For a half hour, Matt listened to Quinton sitting in a chair patiently listening to Julius stumble through his fears before, Quinton finally said, gently, “Julius, here what you wish is allowed, and what you need is accepted.”

Matt stood up, and he saw Quinton was also standing up. Julius was watching him in not quite goonish fascination, and when Matt caught Quinton’s eyes, Quinton nodded to indicate he shold remain.

Quinton moved his robe and pulled down the briefs that clung to him, standing before Julius naked, his thick cock rising.

Julius said nothing, but went to his knees, experimentally touching Quinton’s hips, and then running his hand over his gently haired thighs until, at last, like one very thirsty, he pulled Quinton into his mouth.

Quinton moved to the bed and Matt entered the room, watching the man fumble about, watching Quinton help him. By the time they were done and the man had come to orgasm and Quinton was gently stroking his head, Matt thought he would never be jealous of anyone who came to his lover in these rooms, and the Blue room was no mystery to him. Quinton held the young man, stroking him like a mother and Matt understood what everyone meant. Desire was not enough. You could not do this without love.

And Matt learned that this was a work of desire as well, and one who did not love pleasure could not be in it. One afternoon Quinton cried out to him, and Matt entered the room to see a well made man, the man he had been looking at for some time, on top of Quinto, pounding him, sweat going down his muscled shoulders and the smooth length of his back, his buttocks flexing.

“Matteo,” Quinton’s voice came out a sigh as his face was drawn and he closed his eyes while the man fucked him.

“Hold my hand.”

And so Matt sat in the chair and held Quinton’s hand and felt Quinton clutching his hand tighter, each time the man slammed into him, Quinton’s eyes opened and closed in pleasure as he took the force of this man. Matteo felt himself growing hard while he watched, and finally Quinton, still being fucked, turned to the man and said, “And now what do you want.”

The man, strong and handsome, had been shy when he had come to them this morning,but now he said, his voice husky with desire, “I want your love to fuck me. I want him to fuck me while I fuck you.”

Matt’s heart raced. His penis was stiff and Quinton, still pounded reached for a bottle of oil.

“Take off your clothes,” He told Matteo. “Take of your clothes and join in.”

In the evening the only one Matt felt he could share this morning with was Conn. It was true he was a novice now and so was Brian, but he was close to Conn and he said, as they were alone on the rooftop over the white city:

“And I felt no shame. Just a soaring sense of… understanding.”

“Thank you,” Conn said.

“What?” Matt looked at his friend, starled.

“I am starting to understand too.”

Matt looked confused, but Conn said, “Thank you.”

The next day Derek was due for service in the sanctuary. It was three days after the new year, when the bright whiteness of Annatide became the stark grey white of true winter, when you stayed in bed as long as you could. Every Monday and Tuesday and Friday Derek was gone for service in the sanctuary and every Friday, Conn lay in the bed beside Lorne, like he was the pet dog. But all that month, desire had been rising in him, and that morning, Lorne’s body was hot like a stone, but it always was, and that morning he reached for him, ran his hands experientally over Lorne’s back.

Lorne laughed gently and said, “Little Conn, I thought you’d never wake to me.”

But Conn’s dick was so hard it hurt, and he whispered, “Well, I’m awake now.”

Lorne turned around and grinned at him and moved the covers from his large body. His own penis was fat and stiff like a barrel and his thighs wide as bull legs.

Lazily he reached behind him for the tub of oil and he placed it on the bed between them. He took out the bottle of sniffings which sometimes people used and said, “Then learn your will, lover. Learn your will.”

In the hot darkness of that early morning, Conn rode Lorne into the sunrise, and Lorne laughed as he pressed his hands down on Conn’s ass and Conn shouted like one scorched as, veins standing in his neck, face lifted to the ceiling, he gathered up speed and, cloaked in fire, clenched his teeth to hold in the shout he could not repress as over and over again, with a body jerking force, he spurted inside Lorne.