The Quirk (36 page)

“You get more fascinating by the minute. Why didn’t you?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I can guess. Are you sure you wouldn’t have liked it?”

Rod laughed. “Maybe I was afraid I might. Actually, I was sort of upset and didn’t think I’d be at my best. It’s as simple as that.” The prince squeezed his arm, and Rod hoped he wasn’t being a tease. The prince’s interest was so explicitly sexual that he couldn’t ignore it. He wanted him to make his pass and get it over with so that he could simply enjoy his company. They stopped in front of the chair, and the prince put him into it and balanced elegantly on the arm, one long leg stretched out for support, the other hitched up beside him. Rod looked up at him, and their eyes met and held.

“What about your aesthetic problem?” the prince asked. “Do you still want to see me with nothing on?”

“I think I’ll have to sooner or later, but we’d better put it off until I’m used to you,” Rod said. “You’ve got to excuse me. I have this passion to look at you. I even told Nicole. I can understand your thinking it’s something else.”

“And it isn’t? Oh, dear, what am I going to do with you? So near and yet so far. Now that I’ve found you, aren’t you at least going to come home with me?”

“No.” Rod broke eye contact and took a swallow of his drink. He wished the prince had made it a convincing invitation for a drink, but his new friend wasn’t even trying. He was talking about bed. Rod couldn’t imagine making love with a wholly masculine man like the prince. There was nothing ambiguous about his beauty; it was unequivocally male. He wouldn’t even dare muss his hair. If it turned out that he was going to swing both ways, it would be because he was fascinated by the androgynous quality of boys like Patrice. He simply had an urge to strip the prince and look at all of him.

He lowered his glass and looked at the hand resting on the thigh beside him. A shiver of delight ran through him. “Oh, damn,” he said. “Look at that hand.” He reached out and, holding the prince’s wrist, lifted the hand and turned it slightly. It was big but superbly made, with long graceful fingers. “The most beautiful hand I’ve ever seen. You must drive sculptors mad.” He turned it over and was suddenly reminded of the night he’d met Patrice and was stabbed by a pang of longing for him. He took another quick swallow of his drink and felt it loosen his mind and set it adrift. Better. The prince took his hand in both of his and drew it toward him and pressed it between his legs. Rod felt what he was intended to feel and extricated his hand and ran it along to his knee. He glanced hastily around the room and saw a number of eyes on them. “You’re supposed to be adorable. Don’t embarrass me. My being here is giving you the wrong idea.”

“It’s very difficult to get the right idea with you. I can’t remember anybody who seemed to like me so much. It makes me quite giddy. Your extravagant praise of my person is quite unsettling too. I don’t want to make too much of the twitterings, but any little secrets you have from Nicole are safe with me, I can promise you that. Don’t you think you really ought to come home with me and help me straighten it all out? Preferably with nothing on, but I’ll leave that up to you.”

Rod looked up at him again, and their eyes met and probed each other. “I don’t know. Maybe. We’ll see.” His hand closed on the knee he was holding. He seemed to be prolonging this flirtation, which hadn’t been his intention at all. He was a thief like Lambert, an outlaw. He was stealing pleasure. The fact that he was beginning to feel more at ease in this gathering was a step in the right direction, a new experience. He was all in favor of experience.

The prince moved his hand down close to Rod’s so that they were almost touching. “There is something, isn’t there? I don’t want to be a bore about it, but I can’t help asking one question. In a broad general sense, regardless of me, do you or don’t you?”

“Fair enough. To be as truthful as I can be, the answer is more or less no.”

“More or less. You’re not letting me off easily. If I’m the most beautiful person in the world, shouldn’t it be, for me, a little less no?”

“I don’t think so. That’s the trouble with beauty. There’s nothing you can do with it. It’s all complete in itself. You can’t make love to it because love is exchanging things, and there’s nothing to add to it. All I can do is look at it. Say I go for me. It wouldn’t make any difference. If you’re as perfect all over as the parts of you I can see, all I could do is sit and stare with wonder. You can’t desire perfection.”

“I might have something to say about that. I have fairly conspicuous procreative machinery and a big ass. I doubt if there’s anything perfect enough about me to induce total paralysis.”

Their eyes danced to each other, and they burst out laughing. Rod tilted his glass back and drained it. “I better get another drink before I talk any more crap.”

“I’ll get it. I’ll make it really strong this time.” He took the glass out of Rod’s hand. “I’m here to serve you.”

“Good. I like being served by princes.” He watched the prince’s big ass as he moved across the room. It was narrow, but its rich curves had a massive thrust, something else he wanted to look at. He would strip him as soon as he had made himself quite clear on the sex question. He was pleased with his speech about beauty. That was telling it straight.

Two men appeared in front of him, one young, the other middle-aged, both pleasant looking, and began to ply him with questions about what he was doing in Paris and how he liked it and where he was from. He answered politely. He supposed he ought to get up for them, but he didn’t trust his legs. He hadn’t felt drunk with the prince, but now he wasn’t so sure. The prince returned with full glasses.

“I say, I hope you chaps will excuse us, but we’re having a rather private chat.” He resumed his seat on the arm of the chair and handed a glass to Rod. “I hope you don’t mind my dismissing your suitors. I want you all to myself.” He dropped an arm around Rod’s shoulders and pulled him closer.

“That’s the way it should be.” Rod took a grateful sip of his drink and felt his eyes closing heavily. He dropped his head against fabric and looked up. “Nice. Schoolboy necking. That’s what you are, isn’t it–all you guys who like other guys–aren’t you all just retarded schoolboys?”

“Rather depraved schoolboys, I’m afraid. I think Narcissus comes into it somewhere too.”

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s probably why I’m not queer, not so you’d notice it. I’ve never really fallen for myself.”

“Perhaps you would if you’d allow me to worship you in the way I’m quite prepared to.”

“I thought it was the other way around. I thought I worshiped you–from a safe distance.”

“That’s because I haven’t dared tell all yet. I’m absolutely mad about you. I’m beautiful, if you insist, but you’re the handsomest man I’ve ever seen. Everything about you thrills me. There’s a marvelous menace in you–I don’t know quite why I feel that, but it’s breathtaking. Those eyes. That irresistible mouth. The chills keep running up and down my spine. Those great hands that look as if they could twist anything into any marvelous shape you want. I can see you’ve got a glorious body. Tonight it looks as if it ought to be naked always. We’re clearly made for each other in all sorts of obvious ways. The light and the dark. The effete princeling and the noble savage. I won’t belabor the point but I’m trying awfully hard to seduce you.”

“It’s probably impossible. You forgot to mention oil and water. What if you succeeded but one of us didn’t like it? Wouldn’t that sort of spoil a beautiful friendship? I like things the way they are.” He reached up and found the hand on his shoulder and held it. His eyes closed, and he pried them open. When had he last had some sleep? He pulled his head up and drank some more. He hoped the prince wouldn’t decide to go after somebody else once he was convinced he had nothing to hope for from him.

“You’re so bloody sweet, aside from everything else. I’m beginning to slobber over you, which isn’t my style at all. Don’t let me.”

“I
like
having you slobber over me. It’s the least you can do after I’ve told you you’re the most beautiful human being in the world.” They looked at each other and smiled and pressed each other’s hands. “Am I very drunk?”

“I’m not sure I’ve seen you absolutely sober, darling. It’s hard to tell.”

“Maybe I better pee and get rid of some of it.” He lifted his glass to his lips and discovered there was nothing but ice left. “I’ll be damned. Need another drink. Where did you say I could pee?”

“Right out there and across the hall and the first door on the right. Do you want me to go with you? I hope not. I might be tempted to make a pass at you in the toilet and that would be worthy of me.”

“I’m fine. First on the right.”

“You won’t let anyone make off with you, will you?”

“Why would I do that? You’re taking me home with you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, darling. I certainly am.”

“Good. I thought that’s what we agreed. Don’t want to go home by myself.”

He pulled himself up with an effort and stood unsteadily for a moment to get the feel of the floor under him. Then he squared his shoulders and turned to the prince and moved in close to him and ran a hand over the golden head. There were no equivocal stirrings in him. They were friends now. “See? Sober as a judge. You
are
adorable. I agree with everything everybody says.”

“Don’t be too nice to me. Go pee, and then I’ll take you home.”

Rod put his hands on the prince’s shoulders and left them there for a moment while he looked thoughtfully into his upturned face. He wondered how such beauty managed to escape the least trace of effeminacy. If he looked like a girl, he’d probably take him on the spot. He smiled down at him and gave him a little shake and turned to start his careful progress across the room. The floor had a tendency to tilt, but he managed to make allowances for it. Men spoke to him. Hands reached for him, and he brushed them away. He caught a glimpse of Lambert’s back and remembered how he had got there. He followed instructions and found himself in a closet with a toilet. He had the hiccups. A bad sign. He never had the hiccups except when he was very drunk. He held his breath while he relieved himself. It was difficult doing two things at once. It made the hiccups worse. He couldn’t talk to the prince with the hiccups. Lie down for a minute. That always fixed them. He fastened himself up and left the closet and stumbled along a corridor. He saw a big bed through an open door and went in and fell on it and was asleep.

He awoke with something pressing against his side. It gave him a claustrophobic sense of being hemmed in. He stirred with annoyance to free himself. He tried to push it away but couldn’t get a purchase on it. He opened his eyes slowly and gazed up into a vision of beauty. Annoyance subsided into the peace of being held, cradled, watched over. His mouth dropped open as the vision swam toward him. Soft lips brushed his, and he thrust his tongue into a cavern of delight. He drifted back toward sleep while his tongue continued its indolent explorations. He felt arms tightening around him, a body moving against him, something hard thrust up against his hip. He lifted his hands and found bare shoulders and cool skin. The mouth withdrew, and he opened his eyes again and looked up into a soft blue gaze.

“Did that wake you up, darling?” the prince asked.

“You’re naked?”

“Stark. You would be too if I hadn’t been afraid I’d never get you back into your clothes.”

His hands moved down over a bare back and found the heavy swell of buttocks and strayed between them. Flesh leaped in response. The prince was taking a lot for granted, but he was a pleasure to touch. Rod decided to make allowances for a friend.

“Is that what you want, my wicked darling? I don’t usually, but in your case I’ll surrender to superior forces. Later, darling. We don’t want to go into all that fuss here.”

“Where are we?”

“At the party. A divine party as it’s turned out.”

The prince slid down along his side and kissed Rod’s chest. Rod realized that his clothes were open all down the front and that he had an erection. He had an impulse to cover it, but the prince’s mouth was moving over him toward it. He’d have to stop passing out on strange beds if he expected to keep his pants on. He put his hands on the bobbing head and ran his fingers through thick golden hair and let himself sink into a haze of sensual bliss.

In a moment the prince lifted his head. “You
are
well armed,” he said. “I’ll finish that in a minute. First I should show you what you’ve wanted to see.” He lifted himself to his knees and straddled Rod and sat lightly on his abdomen. “Here’s all of me,” he said with an angelic smile.

Rod tried to focus his blurred vision. The light beside his head fell on rounded expanses of rose-gold skin. Stripped at last. Not the exquisite sculpture he had expected but the most ripely voluptuous body he had ever seen–big bones covered with smooth lush flesh, bisected at the groin by what he was ready to acknowledge as a princely erection lifting from a froth of golden curls. His eyes fixed on it despite the other attractions displayed before him.

For a moment longer he held the buttocks that were resting on him, but his hands were drawn elsewhere. He moved them around and lay them flat on the straddling thighs, framing the extravagant display of masculinity. He saw the mysterious tension he had noticed with Patrice, magnified to such a degree that it had a physical impact, and his heart began to beat more rapidly. Unlike the modest one he was growing familiar with, this filled the eye and demanded attention. It was a curiosity that anybody might find mesmerizing.