Dr. Kennedy watched Michael’s escape and knew that he had been correct in his suspicions the previous afternoon. Having seen the longing looks that Michael gave David, he was fairly certain that the young man shared his own unspeakable desires. Discussing the matter, even in the most general terms, could result in ruin for both teacher and student.
Michael ran around the corner of the wide corridor and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. Before he had time to compose himself, Joseph turned the corner, grabbed his arm and pulled him along until they reached the English classroom. They were barely in the door before Joseph pushed him against the wall, their bodies pressed tightly together and the hardness against his abdomen too much to bear.
“Bishop, stop!” He pushed against solid shoulders and the pressure from Joseph’s body was gone momentarily, only to return seconds later. Joseph’s lips were on his neck, his hardness now pressing directly on his own and he stilled, no longer protesting. It would be so easy to give in, to thrust against the body in his arms, to give his body the release that he craved. Moments from embarrassing himself by spending in his clothing, he pushed Joseph away again and ran from the room, not stopping until he reached home.
* * *
The following week found Michael presenting himself at Dr. Kennedy’s office for what was to become their weekly meeting. There was a cup of tea waiting on the edge of the desk, and he drank gratefully. Without the fear of being accused of unnatural acts he felt that he could enjoy Dr. Kennedy’s conversation. It was a unique experience to have a professor take an interest in him.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Taylor. Did you get your evening wear sorted?”
Michael smiled, “Yes, I did. Thank you for arranging it for me, sir.” He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for the first time in Dr. Kennedy’s presence. His comfort was short-lived as Dr. Kennedy continued.
“I noticed the clash between you and Bishop last week. Have you resolved your differences? You’re both very skilled at the dances and you should represent the school well when the young ladies visit.”
Sitting up on the edge of his chair once more, Michael answered, “Yes, sir. We had a… a bit of a… a disagreement, but we’ve settled it.”
“I see. Are you looking forward to the ball? To the young ladies?”
Feeling as if he was being led into a trap, Michael answered carefully, “A bit, sir. I prefer reading quietly, truthfully.”
“Ah, well. You’re not alone in that sentiment, but we all do what we must.” His words appeared to be straightforward, but Michael thought there was a hidden meaning there if he could only decipher it. Changing the subject abruptly, Dr. Kennedy continued, “I would like you to consider your future and write an essay about your options and what you plan to do after you leave Collingsworth. I realize that this is late days, but you’ve only just come to my attention.”
“Yes, sir. I appreciate your help.” Michael was dismissed quickly and left the office feeling slightly dizzy at the conversation and the myriad emotions it had caused. He was frightened and excited in equal measure as he contemplated the remainder of his time at Collingsworth.
* * *
The next three months of school passed quickly, with no more unpleasant incidents with Joseph. The dancing lessons had progressed to the point that they knew the steps of all the popular dances and were comfortable dancing with any partner, regardless of size or skill level. Michael had succeeded in never being paired with David, but it was David who was foremost in his thoughts as he sat at Morning Prayer staring at the back of his golden head.
He leaned forward, pretending to scratch an ankle and sniffed surreptitiously, smelling an intoxicating mixture of shaving soap, macassar oil, and a hint of pipe tobacco. The nearness to the agent of his own personal torture caused his body to react and, as he always did, Michael both blessed and cursed the delicious feeling of blood rushing to his member.
His thoughts were brought back to more appropriate matters when the headmaster announced that the ladies of St. Anne’s would not be attending the ball on Friday. There was a chorus of groans and whispered questions from the assembled students before they quieted to listen to the headmaster. He gave no further details about St. Anne’s but announced that, as the plans for the ball had commenced to the point where they could not be easily cancelled, the ball would continue as planned. It would be used as a further lesson in their education as young gentlemen.
Michael heard many rumors as he passed from class to class that morning, some more outrageous than others. The common theme involved a tryst between a Collingsworth man and a young lady from St. Anne’s that resulted in a pregnancy.
After the last class of the morning, he walked eagerly to Dr. Kennedy’s office. He had grown to respect the music professor and had stopped worrying about any accusations, relaxing to enjoy their discussions. Dr. Kennedy had hinted that he might have news from the law office in Boston before their next meeting.
He arrived at the office and found, not Dr. Kennedy and the usual cup of tea, but a young first year with a note on the familiar thick paper. Reading the beautiful handwriting, he found that he was to meet Dr. Kennedy at Hardison’s after the last class of the day. He guessed that it was to pick up his evening wear, but he had no idea why Dr. Kennedy would need to be there.
Excited, he walked quickly through the crowds of holiday shoppers to the clothier’s after the school day ended and breathed deeply of the scent of clean wool and cotton as he entered the shop. He saw neither Dr. Kennedy nor Mr. Hardison in the small shop, but the older man who had measured him for his evening wear appeared to be waiting for him. “This way, Mr. Taylor.”
He followed the bent little man through a curtain to the back of the store and up a narrow staircase. “The gentlemen are waiting for you.”
Curious, Michael knocked on the door at the top of the stairs. Mr. Hardison opened the door and invited him into a small but well-appointed sitting room. Dr. Kennedy stood in front of a small settee pouring a cup of tea and Michael smiled to himself, thinking that he would forever associate Dr. Kennedy with tea.
“Mr. Taylor, please have a seat. Mr. Hardison will get your things and join us shortly. I assume that you must be wondering about meeting at such an unusual place.” He continued without giving Michael a chance to respond. “I have something rather delicate to discuss with you and thought that it would be better done away from Collingsworth.”
For the first time in weeks, Michael found himself nervous in the music teacher’s presence. Before Dr. Kennedy could continue, Mr. Hardison re-entered the room and sat down on the settee next to Dr. Kennedy. The two sat close together, their knees brushing lightly as Dr. Kennedy turned to give him a look that could only be described as tender.
“Mr. Taylor, there is no easy way to talk about this and even discussing the subject is not without danger.” He took a deep breath and continued. “I’ve seen the way that you look at Mr. Bennington, yet you appear to have spurned Mr. Bishop’s rather clumsy advances.”
Michael blanched. This was what he had feared. With little more than a week left in term he was finished. He would have no future if he was dismissed for crimes against nature.
“Mr. Taylor, please listen. You are not being accused of any wrongdoing. I simply thought that I—we—might be able to help you.”
“I… I don’t understand, sir.” Michael’s hands shook as he put the cup back on its saucer and he just managed to place it on the small table.
Dr. Kennedy looked at Mr. Hardison, who nodded encouragingly. “Michael, I believe that this conversation requires Christian names, don’t you? As I was saying, I’ve seen the looks you give David, but I don’t believe you know that he looks at you in the same way.”
“Dr. Kennedy, I don’t understand.” Michael was close to tears, still frightened that this was a trap. He couldn’t figure out why Dr. Kennedy was discussing this in Mr. Hardison’s presence. He thought perhaps it was to act as witness to his admission of
the crimes. If that was the case, though, he would expect the police to be involved.
“Please, calm down. We both understand what you must be going through.” At his last statement, he placed his hand over Mr. Hardison’s. “We’re placing ourselves at risk talking about this, but I think that we might be able to help you. You understand that you can never reveal what we discuss this afternoon.”
“Yes. No. Of course not.” Michael was in shock over the revelation that Dr. Kennedy and Mr. Hardison appeared to have one of the “special friendships” that the school forbade and society outlawed. One statement came to the forefront of his mind as he processed the information his professor had given him. Dr. Kennedy said that David had been looking at him too. His emotions running high, he felt himself near tears again.
“Do you have any questions, Michael?” Dr. Kennedy spoke quietly, comforting and calming.
Laughing, feeling more free than he had since his childhood, Michael said, “I think I must have a thousand questions and don’t know where to begin! This really isn’t a trap? I’m not in trouble? David has been looking at me too?”
“I do believe that you found a place to begin. Have another cup of tea and we’ll have a chat now that you’re convinced you’re not in trouble. Although there aren’t many who agree with us, we believe that love, freely given between adults, is never wrong.” Dr. Kennedy looked tenderly at Mr. Hardison again. “Those of us who believe this must, unfortunately, remain hidden.”
Michael stood at the door some time later, overwhelmed with new information. “Michael, remember your promises. You will never speak of this matter outside of this room, and if the opportunity should present itself to speak with Mr. Bennington, you won’t run away.”
* * *
Straightening his bow tie, Michael walked out the door to leave for the ball, mask held in his hand. He had asked if he could be driven in the coach but had been refused, so he set off walking.
Remembering his promise to Dr. Kennedy, he wondered if he would dare to dance with David during this most unusual masked ball. The entire conversation with Dr. Kennedy and Mr. Hardison had been a revelation that shook the foundation of everything Michael had ever been taught. He knew that his life would not be easy, but he finally saw the chance of happiness.
The ballroom had been transformed from the austere site of their practice sessions with the addition of opulent draperies, pine boughs, and golden light from the gas jets and candles. There was a sumptuous dinner set up at one end of the room and this is where the students clustered. The orchestra had begun playing but, perhaps predictably, none of the boys were dancing. Walking over to the tables with the food, Michael felt unusually confident in his mask and new finery.
Although all of the students were wearing their masks, some stood out and were easily identified. Michael picked out Smith by his fiery red curls, Hobbs by his massively protruding belly, and finally Bennington with the light blond waves that he would recognize anywhere. With his own medium brown locks, he felt completely anonymous and moved to stand near David. Before he found the courage to strike up a conversation, the professors walked through the crowd of fifth and sixth years, randomly pairing them up and pushing them toward the dance floor.
Dr. Kennedy appeared at his elbow and, with a hand on his shoulder, pushed him toward David. “Gentlemen, we’re here to practice your dancing. There will be time to eat during the orchestra’s break.” Michael looked back at him to see if there was any sign of recognition in his face or if it was mere coincidence that Dr. Kennedy had paired him with David. Dr. Kennedy had already turned to push another pair onto the floor.
“Well, I believe that we’ll be dancing together tonight. Who will lead, do you think?” David asked, amusement showing in his voice, his full lips quirked into a small smile.
Feeling unusually bold, Michael stepped in to David and placed his left hand on a muscular shoulder and raised his right hand, waiting for his classmate’s left. “You’re a bit taller, you may have the honor.”
“Am I to know who you are?” David moved into position and they moved across the floor.
Michael smiled, “Ah, but that’s what the masks are for. We’ll know who the other is at the unmasking.”
“Fair enough, but I do believe that my hair gives you an advantage. You surely know who I am.” They moved gracefully, their bodies and their abilities well-matched. Michael was determined to relax and enjoy the dance, the unique circumstances of the evening unlikely to be repeated.
“Yes, Bennington, I do. My identity must remain a secret, however. Rules being what they are.” Michael unconsciously moved closer to David.
Rather than push Michael away, David matched his move and they were soon dancing much closer than convention allowed. Michael was able to smell the now familiar scent of macassar oil and shaving soap. “Ah, rules. Are you one to always follow the rules, then?”
Michael realized that they were dancing closer to the dark shadows at the end of the ball room, and knew that if one of them had been a young lady from St. Anne’s they would have been separated and placed under the chaperone’s direct care long ago. “Rules do have their place in polite society, but then the judicious breaking of some rules may make life more interesting.”
“Would you be interested in telling me which rules you would break?” David pressed even closer as they moved behind a wide column and, for the second time in his life, he felt another man’s hardness against his hip. Unlike the last time, however, this was more than welcome, and he felt an answering hardness of his own.
They abandoned any pretense of dancing as David maneuvered Michael until his back was against the column. “I don’t think that would be wise.” Breathless, Michael fought the urge to push himself more tightly against David.
Michael could feel David’s breath against his lips as he moved closer and, anticipating a kiss, moistened his lips. Instead of a kiss, Michael felt David’s cheek against his own and lips graze over his jaw. “Is kissing one of the rules that you might break?”
“I think… I think that it might…” They heard the tap of heels on the marble floor as the music quieted and pulled apart abruptly. By the time the next waltz began, they were dancing a respectable distance apart as the headmaster rounded the column and subtly steered them back to the rest of the couples on the dance floor.
They defied convention and didn’t switch partners, dancing every dance together, occasionally moving behind the column to whisper together. Michael was now well acquainted with David’s neck, his jaw, and had had the barest taste of his lips but hungered for more. He longed to be alone with David, sure now that David returned his desire.
When the orchestra stopped and intermission was announced, David pulled Michael by the hand and led him quickly through a side door. Michael was unfamiliar with the path but trusted his partner to lead in the near darkness. They stopped as they rounded a corner and Michael allowed himself to be pulled into David’s arms, reveling at the novel sensation of another body flush against his own. “Now, my handsome friend, let us discuss rules made to be broken.”
“With this mask, you cannot know that I’m handsome. I, on the other hand, know your beautiful face well.” Michael, suddenly bold, traced David’s lips with his fingertips. “I think discussion of rules must wait.” He pressed his lips to his partner’s and was surprised to feel those lips open against his own. Gasping at the unimagined intimacy, he felt his body respond to the taste of his lover and the touch of his tongue against his.
Their bodies strained together, hands roamed over backs and shoulders, their kiss deepened and Michael heard a moan tear from his own throat. Overwhelmed, Michael pulled back and leaned his forehead against David’s, knocking both of their masks askew. Before he realized what David was doing, he felt the cold air hit his face as his mask was removed. He felt the light touch of fingertips trace his brow, his cheeks, and finally his lips before being pulled into another kiss.
Michael threaded his fin
gers through the wavy hair that had tempted him for years and found it to be soft as silk, every bit as luscious as he had imagined it to be. Leaving that soft hair, he found his hands moving to trace over David’s body, down his strong back and settling on his waist, afraid to go further.
His partner had no such fear, however, and Michael felt large hands on his backside, pulling him more tightly against David. Michael’s body was on fire, need pulsing through him as they moved together, kissing frantically. Close to spending, he gasped against David’s mouth when he felt a hand reach into his trousers. For the first time in his life, he felt another person touch his hard flesh, tight and warm, a hundred times—a thousand—better than touching himself.
“David!” He pulled away, afraid of embarrassing himself even as he wanted—needed—more.
David didn’t let him go, quickly undoing both of their trousers, freeing their hard pricks to the cold night air. “Touch me. Touch me.” Michael couldn’t ignore the plea and grasped David as their lips met again. The new sensations on his body, the feel of David’s flesh in his hand, and the taste of David’s mouth all worked together to cause him to spill after only a few strokes. Lost in the incredible feeling of his body spending into David’s hand, he was barely aware when David’s release hit his own hand and wrist.
They breathed heavily, leaning together as they kissed and teased with lips and tongues. “That was… it was almost… almost… too much. I’ve never….”
“Oh, my friend, it could be so much more. Come back to my room with me?”
Michael pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned himself before fastening his trousers and straightening his clothes. “I don’t believe… I can’t….” He didn’t know why he was suddenly frightened. His earlier confidence seemed to dissipate into the cold night and he was once again the shy day-student who could never measure up to the beautiful man in front of him. Unable to explain, he pulled away from David’s arms and ran up the path, turning not in the direction of the ball room, but toward the village and his own house.
Collingsworth Page 2
