Lucian Ch. 05

Most of all there was a feeling of being trapped.

He looked around, meeting the bored face of Kardosian. How could one be bored at a moment like this? His colleague, what was his name? Bronstein; he didn't look bored at all. His dark eyes were already doing the stripping for him, it seemed.

And then there was his mother.

She looked shocked, or did she? There hadn't been many times he'd seen her shocked by anything. And right now he had the feeling the shock was just a façade, covering something else... something like curiosity.

He rose from his chair, slowly not to loose his balance. God, did the dress feel awkward - and the fucking heels.

The upturned faces brought memories of the photo shoot back to him. Back then the faces had been hidden by spotlights, creating a kind of fence between himself and his nakedness; a save distance.

Here it was different - there was no distance.

Here he felt naked even dressed - and the people watching him were his enemies, showing hostile faces. To his mother he was just an obstacle on her way to freedom, wasn't he? For the two men he wasn't more than an annoying part of their job.

And Parker? What was he to her?

He watched her round, pasty face with the black-rimmed spectacles and a never leaving smile. He knew his fate was in her hands. Without her he was homeless, penniless. Running off wasn't an option anymore, if it had ever been. Whether he even could stay was entirely dependent on the woman's benevolence.

So why did she want him to strip?

Was it just for the kick of it - the humiliation? Did she want to impress her visitors with a demonstration of her power over him? Was it just that, cruel amusement?

'Trust me on this,' she'd said. He didn't, but what was the alternative? Was there one?

His right hand went to the inner wrist of his left, nervous fingertips undoing the tiny button of the satin glove. Bringing a finger to his mouth he pulled it free with his teeth. The others followed while he kept looking at Parker, remembering how to do it with elegance. Throwing the glove on her desk, he started undoing the other.

The room was dead quiet.

Reaching down he lifted the hem of his dress, slowly exposing his thighs. When his eyes disappeared behind the white, almost transparent tube, he heard sharp intakes of breath. It must be the fact that he didn't wear panties - showing off his naked crotch.

He didn't know what they'd expected.

First, when he'd entered the room, they didn't even recognize him. Now, because they knew who he really was, the exposure of the truth must shock them even more.

His slick, hairless body, his pale, tiny sex, the mocking bra.

He peeled the dress off his chest and over his head. Then he gathered it into a ball, throwing that on the desk as well. Standing back he closed his eyes, listening to the blood pulsing in his temples. He tried to imagine the impact on the people in the room - on his mother, and the young lawyer-creep.

It sent a hot flash up his throat.

Finally he opened his eyes again and looked down past the tight, shameless top. His nipples pushed at the sheer panels. Further down, his shrunk penis rested nude between the hairless folds of his crotch.

Its head tried to hide like a shy, blushing girl.

He noticed that he'd automatically adopted one of Ms. Fontaine's gracious stances - one foot square in front of the other, one hand on his hip, one arm bent at the elbow, hand open, wrist turned upwards.

'Voilà,' he thought.

Raising his eyes, he found Parker's smiling, nodding face. At least she was happy.

"Now please," the headmistress said in a low voice, addressing the others. "Wouldn't it be an act of premeditated cruelty to send this amazing creature out amongst the wolves and the savages? We might have murder on our conscience."

Lucian turned his head slowly to find his mother.

Yes, he guessed she was a wolf, a she-wolf, and her lawyers were her pack, looking after her interests. She'd set them loose on her husband's pack, and if Lucian happened to be in their way, they would tear him up amongst them.

A sense of abandonment chilled him.

He watched the younger lawyer and took a step back from the almost physical rape of his eyes. Were those fangs really drooling?

"My God," he heard next to him. "What did you do to him?"

Parker snorted.

"Just what you asked for," she said. "Remember?"

She opened a drawer in her desk and produced a set of papers.

"Please, you can dress again, Lucian," she went on. "You may want to listen to what I have to say; it concerns you too."

She handed out copies to Kargosian and his mother, ignoring Lucian and the young lawyer.

"Let me remind you, Mrs. Gaines," she said, looking over the paper's upper edge to his mother, "about what you signed when you brought Lucian here, last summer."

She lifted another piece of paper.

"With this paper," she went on, "you gave us full custody of your son for the duration of his study right up to graduation at our Academy against a tuition fee of two hundred thousand dollars, payable in yearly parts."

The amount made Lucian reel.

Parker droned on after a short pause:

"Whether you've read the small type or not, Mrs. Gaines - which I would find hard to believe - you are still bound to what you signed about half a year ago at this same desk."

She adjusted her big round glasses.

"Now whatever dispute you and your husband may have," she went on, "please understand that I shall never sacrifice the best interests of your son, whose life has been irreversibly altered at your request. His future is our responsibility - and so is the financial wellbeing of Norton's Academy of Excellence."

Lucian was stunned.

Sitting bare-assed on the cold, hard chair he pushed his shoulders forward, arms wrapped around his naked body. He pressed the ball of satin that was his dress against his belly, hugging it.

Kardosian coughed.

"Ms. Parker," he said, his voice dripping with the honey of reason, "Please understand that my client is very well aware of all that. She would never dream of abandoning her child or running away from the responsibility she has signed for."

From the corner of his eyes Lucian saw his mother's head nod vigorously at the words of her legal champion.

"But," the gray lawyer went on, spreading a new layer of honey, "we have to be reasonable. The conditions of my client's divorce, as we - notwithstanding the prenuptial agreement - have been able to negotiate, will hardly cover the basic costs of her future life. It'll be utterly impossible for her to find the extra funds for her eh... son's ongoing education."

Lucian tried to imagine what 'basic costs' might mean in the eyes of his mother. Slightly shivering he eyed her warm fur coat, draped right next to him.

"Mr. Kargosian," Parker replied, drawing from the same pot of honey. "Of course you are well aware that Mister Gaines has the exact same obligations his wife has. His signature is also on the agreement."

She held up the paper, pointing out where his father had signed. Lucian recognized the boldly scribbled name, overflowing the assigned box.

"Oh, but naturally, Ms. Parker," the old man said, smiling a condescending smile as he shirked in his chair. "We wholeheartedly agree that he should make it part of the divorce regulations, but he won't. We 'fought hard over it,' to quote my client, but he denies any responsibility. 'The boy is over eighteen,' he says, and he never wanted him to go to 'that sissy faggot school' anyway - sorry, his words. He claims that the signature was either forged or illegally retrieved. We regret having to admit our failure in this respect, Madame. Maybe you, as the duped party might succeed where we failed? We heartily recommend that you take it up with him. You might even use our services?"

His last remark clouded Parker's eternal smile for a second.

"Thank you," she replied, allowing her sunny countenance to return. "We are very content with our own legal council. And I can assure you they are quite optimistic about our chances of getting what is our perfect right. Be assured that this... quibble isn't our first little affair to bring to a satisfying solution."

Lucian's mind escaped, as it usual did when people droned on about things he had trouble caring about.

He wondered at the two hundred thousand dollar. Not so much because he doubted Norton's had given him his money's worth; he mostly wondered why his mother had set aside so much money for him when she could have used it for herself.

Could he really be that wrong about her?

He looked over his pulled-up shoulder at her, but her attention was on Parker and her lawyer. She looked tired, he thought. It must be the fighting with his father, or maybe not getting things to go her way. Or whatever.

His eyes once more went to the fur coat.

"Mom," he whispered, repeating it when she didn't react.

She turned her eyes to him, producing an absentminded smile.

"Could I have your coat for now?" he asked, rubbing his upper arms to suggest he was feeling cold.

"Oh God, but yes. Sorry honey, of course!" she said, turning in her chair and handing him the fur coat.

He rose and draped it around him. It felt gloriously - the slippery lining, the quickly spreading warmth and the soft hair against his neck and cheeks. He inhaled the scent, a perfume he knew well.

Then he felt his mother hugging him.

"I really fought for you, Lucian," she whispered in his ear. "You must always believe that. Promise me you believe that."

He looked down and found his nylon-clad knee peeping from the fur. He followed his leg down to the silver pump.

Tears pressed against the back of his eyes.

***

May gave way to June, bringing that first magical day of the year when you know spring has definitely turned into summer.

The crowns of the ancient trees were heavy with leaves, and the lawns had acquired a springy quality under their velvet coat of freshly clipped grass.

The lazy breeze was as warm as the skin it kissed.

Lucian Gaines lay in the shadow of an umbrella, only wearing black tight boys' briefs and Ray Ban glasses. He shone with oil; even staying out of the sun he had to protect his pale skin.

As a small child his mother and his nannies always kept him inside when the weather was fair. He supposed it had been easier for them than always having to guard him and protect him from the sun.

So, like a child kept away from sweets, he ran off into the sunshine in his early teens, every chance he got. Of course he ended up punishing himself with severe sunburn.

Wincing at the memory Lucian reached for his oil bottle to add a new layer.

"Let me do that."

Looking up he saw two long, bare legs against the glaring sun; two hands rested on narrow hips. The umbrella covered the head, but when he went down on his haunches, teeth shone white in a darkened face.

The voice was Harper's; so was the face.

Lucian remembered their first awkward meeting, last autumn on the park bench. How naïve he'd been that day, and how rude. Fear guided him, fear and ignorance.

Friendship had only been a word, an abstraction.

How was he to know it could be a real, living thing? How could he know that people might feel love for him, or friendship? No one had shown it to him before, had they? Not his parents or his nannies; not any of the boys or the girls at school.

He'd felt love for Drew, he thought.

That had been a nice disaster, hadn't it? Maybe Kurtz meant to tell him she loved him, that weepy instance at Christmas Eve. But hadn't she cut his penis and injected him, toyed with his diet without ever asking?

He'd called Harper a faggot on that bench, when the boy offered his friendship.

Lucian only saw sick lust back then; his ignorance closed himself down against any other possibility. And then there was Drew, grabbing his hand and riding it; there was the rape at Halloween; the near-rape by the truckers when he ran off, and the awful brute feeling him up in the snow. In a flash he relived how Drew sucked the man's cock.

Experience had only fed his fear.

Everybody wanted to use and abuse him. To Parker he was a bag of money, to his mother an obstacle, and to his father... So why would he ever believe someone might want to give him something, anything?

He remembered the day he fled the meeting at Parker's office, naked but for the silly fake bra and the stockings, hugging a ball of flimsy silk to cover his crotch.

Voices called after him, but he kept running until he reached his room and the dark cover of his sheets. Lying in a ball he listened to his racing heart until a weight lowered the side of his mattress.

He felt a hand travel from his shoulder to his hip.

"I'm here," a voice said, too muffled by the cover to be recognized.

Was it his mother? Parker?

Curiosity won out; he pushed his smeared face through an opening in the bed gear. A figure sat on his bed, only a silhouette, but he knew who it was.

The hand kept stroking; the face came closer.

"They are all the same," Harper said, his voice a whisper. "They just want and need and grab and take."

His face came closer. His free hand removed the blanket and his lips found Lucian's. Pulling away, Lucian pushed Harper back. The boy sighed, but he kept smiling.

"You look like shit," he said, and chuckled.

"Who cares?" Lucian answered.

He sat and moved up against the headboard of the bed, blanket and sheets wrapped around him. Harper never lost his smile.

"I care," he said. "We Bobs all do. We are proud of you, you know? You are the most beautiful of us all."

Lucian snorted.

"You all need your eyes looked after," he said.

Harper chuckled.

He crawled onto the bed and sat beside Lucian, his long toned legs stretched out. The pale satin of his ballet shoes shone against his olive skin.

"I saw your mother," he said. "The beautiful woman - she is your mother, isn't she? In the limo?"

Lucian nodded.

"She made you cry." Harper reached out for Lucian's messed up curls, touching them with his slender fingers. "Stupid people."

The boy's face was close to Lucian's, his liquid eyes enhanced with eyeliner. There was a spicy edge to his sweet scent.

A sudden surge of tears choked Lucian's throat. He fought to keep them down.

"We all cry," the boy said, removing a tear that started running down Lucian's cheek. "It helps, you know?"

All dams broke, and Lucian cried like he never did before.

He sobbed helplessly, his chest heaving. His world drowned in mist and pouring showers. He felt arms close around him, his wet face sinking into silk and skin.

Someone held him; cried with him.

Soft lips found his open mouth - slick with tears and snot. Everything was soft and yielding, allowing a tongue to dance around another, roaming rows of ivory, caressing vaulted pink roofs, and plunging into gasping depths.

They kissed with ravenous hunger. And then they stopped and gasped.

Overwhelmed by what happened they separated, leaving strands of saliva dangling between them. Eyes widened in wonder, red rimmed and darkly smudged. Mouths trembled, smeared with forgotten lipstick.

"God noooo...," Lucian panted.

Then the two mouths touched again, softer now and sweeter. Fingers got lost in silver curls and blue-black locks. Sheets slipped off; bodies touched.

Once more the kissing stopped, leaving the room filled with heavy breathing.

"What are we doing?" Lucian asked through his gasps.

He brushed the drool off his mouth and shirked away from Harper. His clear blue eyes danced with confusion.

"I never did this before," he went on, trying to find answers in the other boy's face. "Never with... with, I mean... knowing..."

Harper just shrugged, pulling at his silk top where it stuck to his chest, soaked from Lucian's tears.

"I never did either," Harper answered. "I mean I did, but never as wonderful as this."

He smiled wide, brushing the bangs from his brow. Then his smile vanished as he studied Lucian's eyes.

"Don't say it," he said, his voice a whisper.

"Say what?" Lucian asked, still breathing hard.

"What you said on the bench, remember?"

Lucian knew what he meant. He slowly shook his head no.

"I would never say that again," he answered, wondering why he was so sure. Maybe because it would be a lie.

He didn't shy away when Harper's hands returned to cup his face.

The next kiss was different again from the first and the second. It was like the brush of a feather, and yet it set off a firework of titillating sensations in every pinpointed nerve's ending across his lips and tongue.

At the same time little jolts of alarm kept plaguing the back of his mind, but they were muffled more each second the kiss lasted - until there was nothing left but overwhelming intoxication.

Back in the now, lying under the umbrella by Norton's pool Lucian handed Harper the bottle of sunscreen. He stretched out on his belly, feeling the cool grass tickle his skin.

The hands were strong; long fingers kneaded his muscles as they rubbed in the oil.

Lucian just lay with his eyes closed, the lazy buzz in his head mixing with the sound of insects and the splashing in the nearby water.

Drifting off he remembered those same hands wandering down his chest, slipping into the bra-like top. Fingertips teased his nipples, making them yield and rise, causing hot sensations to radiate as he sank deeper and deeper into the distraction of the lips and the mouth, and the tongue.

One hand stayed, tweaking and kneading a nipple, while the other slipped down his belly and into his crotch where nothing hid his weeping penis. It cupped him for a second, squeezing in time with the pulsing, before going further down, finding his anus between his spreading thighs.

And entering.

Harper silenced the voices of alarm and disgust in Lucian's mind as he created a rhythm of tongue and finger. Smiling he noticed Lucian's responses - his hips pushing up to meet the probing finger.

And soon gushes of pre-come coated the hand that moved in and out now like a piston - faster still, and deeper.

Lying down at the pool with his face in the grass Lucian relived the waves of heat as the same hands now slid into his tight briefs to massage the muscles of his ass cheeks. He pulled them in, turning them hard as stone.

From far up he heard a sharp intake of breath, as the hands intensified their kneading.

He remembered, after coming that first time with Harper, how utterly weak he'd felt, letting his limp, spent body fall back onto the bed, melting into the mattress.

When the light returned to his eyes, he felt an intense glow around his cock. Someone was sucking it. Looking down, his view was blocked by a black mob of hair. It rose and fell, making wet sounds fill the room.

Lucian laid his hands on the hair and groaned. The head came up, showing a shining, smiling face.

"I love you, Lucian," he said, and returned to sucking the penis.

Lucian recalled letting himself be fucked by Drew, and he had even sucked her tiny knob. But Drew wasn't a boy, was she? Okay, she wasn't a girl either, but somehow there was a difference. The exact same difference that made Lucian shirk up against the bed's headboard, pushing away Harper's head.

There was a little plopping sound when his penis slipped from the tight lips.

Harper's eyes were huge.

"Please," Lucian said. "You must understand."

Harper crawled up against Lucian, making his naked, glowing body slide along bare skin. His wild hair and blushing face made him look completely vulnerable.