"Let's see a play."
The orange-haired man pulled his face out of his book, gawking at what I asked of him. "Um, excuse me?"
"You heard what I said. I'm bored again."
Loukas bit into his hand and muttered, "I . . . I can't."
"Why not? Are you some beast cursed to be trapped here or something?"
"N-No, I'm not as brave as him or turn into someone nice and handsome."
I tilted my head and gave him a sly smile. "You're the lady, then? I don't see a decent bosom on you, though. Drink some more milk to gain that quality."
As much as Loukas tried to hide it, he snickered at my remark. "I don't—that's rude."
With an exaggerated sigh, I groaned, "I'm just trying to help my bosomless friend. I want my Lady Flat Chest to see a play of Lord No Bollocks."
"Ha . . . Hide, haha." And like magic, Loukas laughed. It was as clear as a bell and as bright as the sun he could never stand under. I laughed along as I clutched the sides of the chair he sat in. Loukas shook his head as he fixated on his fidgeting fingers. His previously jovial smile had turned to one more solemn. "No, no. I'm n-not so g-good with many people . . ."
"Loulou, come on! Imagine what you'll see." I gestured around the library and pranced about to showcase my enthusiasm. "Costumes, food, wine, and beautiful men performing."
Loukas raised his hand to his face. "Hey, that sounds nice, but I just can't stand when people watch me—always judging me."
"You could hold my hand the entire time," I offered.
The man's gaze froze on me as if what I suggested was the moon itself.
"You're . . . You're j-joking, right?"
I smiled and held his face, running a thumb over his lips. "If it makes you go outside, I ain't gonna joke about that, baby boy." He sat rigidly at the sudden touch, breath hitching at my hand trailing over his neck. "We can sneak out, and I'll give those peach lips another kiss," I teased.
I would typically offer a lot more than kisses, but, as I suspected, the hint of physical contact stole his breath away. I removed my hands, and he clutched his locket like a crucifix and said, "I w-would love to go. Let's go now. Wait, no," he threw his hands over his face, "I forgot the coach was only supposed to come here monthly." He tried to scramble up from his seat. "I should get my letter ready and—"
I tilted my head in surprise at his sudden eagerness and burst out laughing. "Haha, you really wanna kiss me that much, right?"
"Yes." His voice was so soft, yet it stopped my laughter.
I shuffled my feet over the carpet and scoffed, "But those eyes of yours make seeing during the daytime a nightmare. Could you even see anything if it isn't cloudy?"
"I . . . I don't mind."
I looked at the boy and saw oddly none of his usual nervousness. There was still his ever-present aura of jitters, but any other fear and uncertainty were not so much present. It was as if he knew exactly what he wanted.
I smiled at him and said, "You know what? Why don't we read and I act out a scene? It's more fun that way."
"Act?"
"I have been told I've got a lot of stage presence," I beamed with pride.
Stage presence, charm, good looks, a choir boy's voice . . .
All meant nothing as the years wore on, and people were always the same. Despite all my skill and talents, I was not worth anything to them.
Loukas bent down to reach my height and placed his two hands over my own, enveloping them in warmth. I tried to ignore the odd feelings that fluttered in my chest, but that seemed so difficult now. I could not help but enjoy his gentle touch.
"I would love to see you perform the Ballad of Clair Délice," he said.
"Figure you'd love that saccharine musical shite. Fine, I'll sing only for you. May you play that grand piano, baby boy."
His smile was gentle as the morning dew upon the petals of a rose. "I will," he said.
His fingers danced over the keys as I sang through a song I had not done in years. It surprised me that my singing voice had not fully degraded with the smoke and years of disuse. I could still hold a tune, but the higher notes were not something I could achieve anymore.
A fact that bothered me more than I wanted it to.
Yet Loukas did not care. He played and I sat on his piano, singing along to the nonsensical song of some lady who stole kisses from too many old men.
I had a little more fun, turned around, and gave the boy a good look at my plump rump as I moved off the instrument. Loukas swiftly avoided a gander out of decency; he was too sweet for his own good. I walked over to his side and sang, "And I like that." The next lyric was about the girl meeting her final lover, and they kissed then he died or something. I gave the story a little twist, however. I faced Loukas and, with soft eyes, said, "Sir Ferdinand. You don't have to hunt me down anymore."
"Huh? Um, Hide, I don't think that—"
"Loulou, differences are inevitable, like how hot and heavy Ferdinand must have got as he searched for such a spirited young thing." Both my hands were on his thighs as I said, "This is an adaptation. Baby boy, you are my sweet honey milk. My star shine. My heart and my veins."
Yes, I remembered those lines from that stupid song.
Loukas stood still as I leaned to meet his eyes, his hot breath caressing my lips. I continued, "Such a pretty treasure I found in the night's field. Would my darling knight plant a kiss upon thy lips?"
With no hesitation, he answered my request with a passionate kiss. Lips on lips, tongue fighting against tongue. I wrapped my legs around his middle as his hands roamed underneath my untucked shirt. Passion between us lit up as I heard his soft moans through my mouth. This time, I pulled away, panting, breathless, and aroused.
"N-No, Hide, please. Don't stop."
"Why not? You were humping like a desperate dog. I wouldn't want to ruin these nice clothes you got."
He must have read my mind as he understood exactly what I suggested. He picked me up with an arm underneath me and held me close to his chest. Together, we headed off to his quarters.
He was an odd sort of gentleman and must have had a lot of lessons on how to treat a lady. He may have been trying them with me the more I thought about it. Usually, that would have aggravated me beyond reason, but with him, the innocence of it all just made me want to poke him even more.
As soon as I could squirm from his arms to his large plush bed, I gave the man a show. I slowly unbuttoned my bottoms before him. His cheeks lit up before he diverted his eyes, muttering something under his breath.
"C-Can you close your eyes?" he requested.
"Haha, you're a man, not some shy maiden. What is a little undressing gonna do?" I crowed.
I licked my lips as I got to my last button. As much as the man did not want to admit it, his red eyes were glued to me.
"J-Just . . . I—Hide! You . . . are not wearing . . ."
"Underwear? I felt it would get rather hot this evening," I chuckled as what poked from the unbuttoned trousers was my erected chubby cock.
A contrast to the enormity hidden in his long underwear.
Loukas again averted his eyes, and I laughed, "No, you can stare at it all you want. Probably not your first cock, but I bet it's the best you've seen."
"You have some . . . presumptions n-now, do you?" Loukas somewhat laughed even through the embarrassment.
"I know it's the best you've seen, hmph!" I scoffed. "You know what? You can keep on the underwear. I prefer to undress you like the prince you are, baby." I heard his swift inhale at the name, confirming my suspicions about his perversion. "Come on, now. You don't have to hide a thing from me," I said. "Show me that cock of yours, baby boy."
Loukas slowly removed his hand from his crotch, revealing an erection stretching his underwear. A bulge so massive that it made my jaw drop at such a person having an impressive package.
"Fuck, you've been keeping that shit secret? Homegrown, too," I said.
"Um, other than Xander," Loukas moved to the bed to sit, causing the mattress to dip, "I've never done . . .anything like this with someone."
I pressed a single finger to his lips. "You don't have to say a word, baby. I can guide you."
"You're a very pretty man." His eyes were half-lidded as he held my chin, and his thumb grazed against my bottom lip.
"And you're a big-dick stud."
"Can I"—Loukas slid his index finger down my neck and chest—"hold a knife to you?"
What?
Taken aback, I said, "Excuse me?"
His daze of pure lust sobered as he was startled by the question he asked out loud. Loukas removed his hand and clenched it against his chest, and stuttered, "Sorry, I should have—"
"Urgh. Don't apologise, alright? A little kinky, but it's not like you're shoving a hammer handle up my ass, so I can deal with it."
"Just . . . Don't get mad at me, pl-please."
I pulled him into another kiss and said, "Make me mad, Loulou. I want you to do whatever you like."
THE FOLLOWING SCENE HAS BEEN CUT PLEASE BY THE FULL VERSION FOR THE FULLY UNCENSOURED NOVEL AND ART WORK
Another sudden kiss cut me off. I gave Loukas more of a mouthful of me, sharing in the taste of my coppery blood and bitter cum that coated his mouth. Finally, he collapsed onto the bed, holding me tightly. His warmth was a blanket on a cold winter night.
He muttered, "Hide . . .will you be mine?"
Mine?
I leaned into his body, my hand moving to the shallow cut left by him from earlier. The bleeding had long since stopped, yet the flickers of pain remained.
I said to him, "I'm nobody's, but . . . I enjoy you."
He was different in bed compared to his usual attitude.
He shoved his face into my neck and held me as a lover would, whispering, "Then I have to keep you."
His words of love were unnerving, yet, I did not hate it. There was some odd comfort to meaning this much to another.
I moved my hand to his cock and palmed the already half-hard member. The boy choked out a noise before moving his hips with my hand.
"My turn, baby. I can teach you how to suck a cock," I whispered in his ear.
That night we gave into our body's needs and wants; insatiability was what we shared and what we indulged in.
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