John hugged him back tightly. “If you ever want to talk to someone about it, I am always here for you,” he promised.
With that uncomfortable task out of the way, Percy's life again fell into a comfortable pattern. He consulted with Alastair after class whenever he had the time to do so, and he studied with John and enjoyed a platonic closeness with him that fulfilled some of his need for physical affection.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eighteen
As the week drew to a close, he stopped at Alastair's classroom before dinner hour. He knew the other man would not expect it, but he was not about to visit him at his private quarters again without an express invitation. Alastair was deeply involved with some papers at his desk, and Percy had to knock lightly on the office door to get his attention.
Alastair bade him enter, then looked up. A small smile played about his lips as he regarded Percy. “Well, hello. To what do I owe this honor, my lord?” he asked teasingly, voice low.
Percy stepped in and closed the door behind him. “I was wondering, Professor...” He stepped around the desk and leaned his hip casually on the corner. “I was wondering if you would be interested in an overnight guest this evening."
Alastair sat back in his chair, gaze roaming over Percy. “I believe my social schedule would allow it,” he said mildly, though the look in his eyes was heated. “I take it you require more extended tutoring?"
Percy's lips twitched. “Oh, yes. I need a great deal of assistance. I believe only your close, personal attention to the matter will suffice. I can't tell you how grateful I am, although I have no doubt you shall inspire me to try."
"I do appreciate your specific verbal suggestions,” nodded Alastair. “I shall, of course, take them all into consideration.” He smirked. “I shall expect you at nine, then. Don't be late.” His voice dropped. “And be ready."
Percy was already aroused by the subtle wordplay. “Oh, I shall be completely prepared to receive whatever wisdom you may have to impart, Professor. Nine o'clock, then.” He nodded once and straightened up, making a brief bow. “By your leave."
"I shall be counting the minutes,” Alastair replied, flashing a brief smile as Percy left.
Percy nearly bounced with excitement. The opportunity to be with his lover in an actual bed was always something to look forward to. He went to dinner, though he could barely eat, then returned to his dormitory to ‘prepare'. He changed into a particularly snug pair of midnight blue velvet trousers and matching coat, though he knew he would be clothed for a very short time. He put on his cloak, because it concealed a good deal about his identity, and he slipped out of the school grounds just before curfew, only to return to them on the opposite side of campus, near Alastair's home. He tapped lightly on the door just at the appointed time.
The door opened quickly, and Alastair stood waiting. His shirt was unbuttoned and his expression was predatory. “Do come in. Quickly,” he breathed, stepping back. “I've been looking forward to this,” he whispered as Percy went past.
Percy stepped inside and pulled off his cloak, draping it over the closest chair. “As have I, Professor,” he purred. He shrugged off his coat as well, smiling adoringly at him. “Have you missed having me in your bed?” he asked, untying his neck cloth slowly.
Alastair looked Percy over, taking in his clothing. “I have indeed. And I intend to have you, in the bed or otherwise, repeatedly tonight. I do hope you're up to it.” He advanced toward Percy.
"I've been thinking about it all day, in fact. It's been quite difficult to pay attention during lectures while I was picturing you using my body for your pleasure all night.” He was hard and ready and had his shirt half unbuttoned. “Good lord, you look delicious,” he breathed. Everything about Alastair drove him insane, especially the look in his eyes.
"How very wicked of you,” Alastair replied, reaching out to grab a handful of Percy's fine shirt, using it to yank Percy roughly toward him. “You seem to be in serious need of ravishing, my pretty lord.” He rocked his hips against Percy, grinding his erection into the smaller man's stomach. His free hand groped Percy's ass possessively. “I shall definitely take my pleasure from you tonight."
Percy whimpered. “I am very, very wicked indeed, Professor,” he said softly. “While others daydream of a sweet kiss from some pretty girl they noticed on their daily walk, I daydream of your beautiful cock pounding into me, of hearing your breath hitch as you come inside me.” He stared into Alastair's eyes.
Alastair moaned softly. “You shall get exactly what you dream of, and very soon,” he promised. “All night. I intend to ensure that you cannot walk properly tomorrow.” He crushed his mouth to Percy's.
Percy slid his arms around Alastair's neck, pressing his slender body fully against him. He opened to him, kissing back. He welcomed Alastair's hot tongue. He threaded his fingers into his lover's hair, stroking his scalp.
After several minutes, they parted for air, and Alastair smirked. “Get those clothes off and get on the bed, my pretty little whore. Need you."
Percy smiled and finished unbuttoning his shirt. He walked to the bed, kicking his boots off, and in a moment he lay back, naked against the simple linen bedspread. “I'm all yours, to do with as you please,” he said softly.
Alastair walked closer to the bed. He'd already shed his shirt and was unbuttoning his trousers. “Just like I like you,” he agreed, kicking away the rest of his clothes. He was fully aroused and ready.
Percy was so happy to be there, to be in Alastair's bed, the whole night ahead of them. “I want you so badly,” he said, gaze following the progress of Alastair's clothing as each inch of skin was revealed.
"I know what you need, Percy,” Alastair purred, climbing onto the bed, never breaking eye contact. “And I'm going to give it to you like no one else can."
Percy spread his legs wide apart, accommodating Alastair's body. He was so infatuated with the older man. He stared at his broad chest, his chiseled features, soaking it all in.
Alastair slid into place as if he was meant to be there, his hard cock nudging Percy's entrance. With one hand he reached for the oil, never taking his gaze from the younger man's eyes. “Percy,” he breathed, his gaze smoldering. “Beg!"
The way Alastair asked, in the husky command, sent a shiver through him. “Please, Alastair. Please fuck me. I want you so badly,” he breathed.
Alastair pressed the head of his cock against Percy, just sliding in. “Like this? You want this inside you?” he nearly growled, clearly holding himself back with effort.
Percy whimpered loudly. “Oh yes, I need your big thick cock splitting me open. Oh please, Alastair. Fuck me...” The more he did it, the more he enjoyed begging Alastair. Certainly the other man's reaction was well worth the effort.
And Alastair gave it to him—he thrust deep into Percy, burying himself in one go. He didn't even pause, just began pounding into the smaller man, hitting the perfect spot each time.
Percy nearly cried out. He was sure nothing had ever felt like this and he had to bite his lip from screaming out his undying love for the man impaling him so perfectly. No thoughts of why he held those words back clouded his perfect enjoyment of Alastair's exacting movements. It was like their bodies knew each other now, and how to wring ecstasy from each other.
Alastair took Percy savagely, though his actions were clearly not just for his own pleasure. He pinned Percy to the bed as he drove in and out, faster and deeper each time, until the bed rocked with their movements.
Percy clamped down tightly around Alastair as often as he could manage it. He gasped for breath, nearly insensible. “Please, Alastair,” he moaned. “Can I come?"
For once, Alastair didn't make Percy wait. His face contorted with the effort to hold back himself. “Yes,” he groaned, stroking the younger man's cock as he panted.
Percy was surprised that Alastair acquiesced so quickly, but he wasn't about to protest. He felt the climax come over him and he cried out,
shuddering violently
Alastair gasped as Percy came, crying out his name as if startled, then he pulsed inside him, mouth dropping open.
Percy gasped, too when he heard Alastair. He had never been so loud before. He stroked his arms slowly as he gradually started to drift back down to earth.
Alastair barely held himself up with trembling muscles, rolling off Percy, panting hard. “I believe you may kill me one of these days,” he murmured vaguely.
Percy stretched out beside him. “Are you all right?” he asked, slightly concerned. He had never thought to hear Alastair make such an unrestrained sound.
Alastair rolled onto his side, facing Percy. “I shall be as soon as I catch my breath,” he answered. “And you? I did not bruise you too much?"
Percy turned towards him and gazed into his eyes. “No more so than usual,” he said quietly. He was so smitten with him. He was so relieved that they were together again.
"That's not a complaint, is it?” Alastair asked, eyebrow raised. His hand trailed up and down Percy's damp skin,
Percy grinned. “A complaint that I didn't get more bruises?” he teased. He nuzzled Alastair's jaw. “You know you can do whatever you want to my body,” he breathed.
"Mmm. I do like the sound of that,” mused Alastair. “My little whore. To use as I please.” He only caressed Percy softly at the moment, though.
Percy felt languid and lazy. He kissed him lightly on the lips. “And you have all night to do so,” he whispered groggily. He wriggled closer. “I love being with you,” he said, his voice dreamy.
Alastair was silent for a moment, then whispered, “I feel the same."
Percy gazed into Alastair's eyes. He thought about everything they'd been through, and everything they'd said. He knew he was falling for Alastair, but he also knew that Alastair did not believe there could ever be anything between them that was lasting and real. He sighed, keeping his feelings to himself.
Alastair stared back, silently, as if waiting for something, then leaned in to kiss Percy gently.
* * * *
For weeks they stole every possible moment together, in Alastair's office and in his quarters on weekends, always acting as circumspect and secretive as possible. They maintained a contentious relationship in the classroom, though it was something of a sham. However, it was enough that no one would suspect the fond feelings they had for each other, or the tumultuous affair they carried on.
About a month before the last exams for the year, a messenger interrupted Alastair's class. He strode down to the front of the room and called him aside. “Pardon me, Professor. I require a word,” he said in a thick Scot's accent.
They stepped into Alastair's office for a moment, then he stepped out again. “Lord Elgin, could you please join us. The rest of you, read ahead in the chapter. Quietly."
Percy frowned slightly. He stood and walked into Alastair's office, head held high. “Yes?” he said quietly.
"My lord,” the messenger said, sketching a respectful bow. “I'm so sorry tae inform you, but I was sent tae tell you that your father has passed.” He pulled out a letter from inside his coat. “I've a letter from your dear grandmother, asking for you tae come home."
Percy felt as if he'd been shot in the chest. He looked at the letter as though it was alive and would bite him if he touched it. But he took it, mustering some lordly stoicism. “I can be ready in half an hour,” he said hoarsely. “Did you bring a carriage? Or at least a mount for me?” he asked.
"Aye, there's a horse saddled and ready, and a carriage engaged at the first stop outside the city, my Lord,” he replied obsequiously.
"Very well. I shall meet you outside in a few minutes,” he said dismissively. He couldn't look at Alastair, not until he got rid of this other man. He vaguely recognized him as one of the footmen back home.
The man bowed again, and bowed to Alastair for good measure, then left the room, closing the door behind him. Percy sagged back against it for a moment, covering his face with his hands.
After a moment's hesitation Alastair stepped forward and pulled Percy into his arms. “I'm so sorry,” he said softly.
Percy collapsed gratefully into Alastair's arms. He pressed his face against his broad shoulder. He didn't cry, but a wealth of emotion flooded through him. He hadn't even asked how it had happened. “He was not yet fifty,” he said quietly.
"Had he been unwell? Alastair asked solicitously, rubbing Percy's back slowly. He let the younger man lean on him fully.
"Not to my knowledge,” he said, his voice sounding flat and toneless even to his own ears. “I ought to go pack a bag. My grandmother ... she will be devastated.” He clung to Alastair, still, as if he could absorb some of his strength to face what was ahead of him.
"Please extend my condolences to your family,” Alastair said softly. “And Percy, if there is anything I can do..."
Percy raised his eyes to Alastair's handsome face. His lips twitched. “Don't fail me for being absent?” he asked, making a weak attempt at humor.
Alastair smiled back. “I think we can come to an arrangement,” he said softly. “You're top in the class already, after all.” He brushed a kiss over Percy's forehead.
The gentle kiss was what did it. His throat tightened and he felt his eyes threatening to spill over suddenly. “I need to go,” he said hoarsely. “I shall write to you when I know when I'm to return.” He pulled away. He didn't want Alastair to see him weep like a child.
"Take your time,” Alastair said. “I shall miss you.” He stepped back.
Percy's insides twisted. Why did the frustrating man choose now of all times to be lovely and sweet? He swallowed hard and tried to smile. “I shall miss you, too,” he croaked. “I will return as soon as I am able.” He touched the door handle, then paused, turning back to Alastair. He wanted more, though he knew there was a classroom full of students just beyond the door.
Alastair seemed to read Percy's mind as he said, “Perhaps one kiss? To keep me company? No one will begrudge us the extra moment."
Percy stepped close to Alastair again and slid his arms around his neck, kissing him with a whimper. He knew he would think of Alastair often, but his thoughts were a jumble right now. Still the extra comfort did not go wanting.
Alastair kissed Percy much more gently than usual, though he held him firmly. He pulled back after a moment and gently touched his face. “Let me know if you need me."
Percy nodded. “Thank you. I'll write,” he said quietly. Then he slipped out the door, holding in his emotions.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Nineteen
With a bag hastily packed, Percy set off with the footman towards Scotland. The journey was long, but he insisted on riding, rather than taking the hired carriage, to shorten the trip somewhat. In three days they finally reached Castle Elgin.
As he suspected, his grandmother was grief stricken, as were a few of the servants. A gentleman friend of his father, whom Percy did not know, was also staying as a guest. Though his grandmother assured him that it was the right thing to do, and the gentleman should be treated with all hospitality, she avoided the visitor completely, leaving Percy to entertain the stranger as best he could.
The man introduced himself as Alan, and he seemed as sad as Percy's grandmother. He watched Percy sidelong, and after dinner tried to engage him in conversation over a brandy.
Percy felt rather cold, but speaking to this stranger seemed to be, at the very least, a distraction, which he sorely needed. He did his best to maintain a certain level of functioning in the face of those around him who were incapable of it.
They sat alone before the fire. The house seemed more cavernous and empty than usual. “Did you know my father well?” he asked.
Alan smiled ruefully and looked into the fire. “Yes,” he said wistfully. “I did.” He looked shrewdly at Percy. “I take it your father didn't speak of me?"
Percy scowled slightly. He wasn't sure why his father would speak t
o him of his acquaintances, though this man seemed distraught enough to be quite close to him. “Actually, he didn't speak to me about much of anything, truth be told. Not that he was a bad father, God rest his soul. But I think he left me to my mother's keeping at a young age and tried not to interfere much. Then my mother passed, and, well...” It was oddly comforting to admit such thoughts to a stranger.
Alan nodded as if he understood. “He spoke glowingly of you,” he said softly. “He was very proud of you, though he may not have been able to express it."
It was something of a shock to hear it. Percy hadn't really thought his father cared one way or the other. He swallowed around a lump in his throat. “You must have known him quite well to wring such closely kept secrets from him,” he said, with a hint of bitterness at hearing such things from a stranger after his father was dead.
"I did,” Alan answered, looking directly at him. He hesitated, and said, “You didn't know, did you?"
Percy could only stare at him blankly. “Know what?” he asked.
Alan gazed at Percy. “You and your father were more alike than you realize."
Percy's eyes went wide and he gasped. He looked around to make sure that the door was closed. “You were his lover?” he asked in a whisper. So many things started to make sense, including his late mother's eternal melancholy.
"Yes,” admitted Alan, watching Percy's face closely. “For quite a long time, actually."
"Why didn't he tell me?” he asked, feeling an instant sting from being kept in the dark. “Did he know about me, too?” For so many years he'd felt abnormal. “How long?” he added, wondering how long Alan was an outside observer in his life.
"He suspected about you,” Alan answered. “But he didn't know how to approach you. He told me he'd hoped, for your sake, that you avoided the family curse, but he was loath to bring it up. Still a bit ashamed of himself, really. Not of you."
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