Fic: Whispers After Dark : Chapter 5
List of previous parts can be found Here
Warning
Whispers After Dark is an all human AU set at an English boy's public school somewhere around 1850, think Tom Brown's School Days. I haven't been overly specific about the era in terms of research, and I realise some of it is anachronistic, but in this case I really don't care that much.
However, because of the setting, some of the boys will be underage - fifteen at minimum - in case that squicks anyone. There will also be non-con, semi-non-con, bullying, fagging, spankings, the ocassional caning over a desk and private oral tutorials. Needless to say it is NC-17, though the first few chapters is as innocent as the driven snow.
Chapter 5
Strong liquor being forced between his lips made William splutter and waken, suddenly terrified by where he was and who he was with. His dreams, full of blood, pale skin and a cruel sardonic smile, fled when he looked up into the kindest greenest eyes he had ever seen.
“Who… where…?” He tried both and each time his jaw flared in a painful reminder of his hideous crime. Oz was dead. White, still and broken on the bedroom floor. Put there by William’s cowardice in the face of being tossed. Fresh tears flooded his eyes, and they burned as though he had a face full of sand.
“Come now, dear boy,” the stranger cooed, “That’s enough tears for one night.”
“Oz,” William managed to force out. “Dead.”
“Well, this is remarkably frustrating. To go to all this effort and have the boy virtually incoherent.” The touch of irritation in this almost man’s voice made William want to squirm away but he found himself firmly held in place against cushions that smelled of heat and something musky and strange. Rather than fight he let the hopelessness fill him and slumped back, his sore strained eyes fluttering closed.
“He’s under the impression Osborne is dead,” Angelus explained.
“And is he?”
Angelus looked askance at Lindsey, who glared at Ethan who merely shrugged and looked back at Ripper.
“You mean none of you have bothered to enquire?” Indignation rapidly turned to real anger and Giles’ eyes flashed as they flicked from one boy to the next. All of them, Angelus included, cringed at the agonies undreamed of held in their crystalline depths.
“I’m going,” Angelus said, snagging Lindsey by the scruff on his way to the door. Lindsey attempted to duck away, wary of what was going to happen once he was alone with his brother but Angelus, nearly a foot taller and stronger than Lindsey could ever hope to be, dragged him out anyway.
“Now then,” Ripper said, somewhat mollified. “Let us see to our guest.” He turned his attentions back to William and ran a finger down his bruised face.
The conversation about Oz had not gone unheard and it was enough to bring William back to himself, a tiny flame of hope flaring bright in his heart. When he felt the touch on his face, he opened his eyes and struggled to sit up.
“Feeling any more chipper?” he was asked and William nodded, flinching when the action hurt his neck and his jaw. There were teeth loose he was sure of it.
“Boy!” his nurse called out, “Warm water and a cloth, and make it quick.”
William turned towards the quick scurry of movement in the corner and froze when he saw Brolly lounging against the wall. Somehow the fear and grief that had overwhelmed him since he’d seen Oz’s body, twisted into incandescent rage inside him and, without thinking, William launched himself off the couch at the boy who had hurt his friend.
“You cad,” he screamed, his voice cracking from soprano to tenor and back. Brolly darted backwards, catching his leg on a small table and sending it and himself toppling to the floor. And William on was on him, his small fists bunched and punching, pounding into that smug, hated face that had watched while Oz bled and hurt on the ground.
“Bloody hell, Ripper, get him off me!” Ethan cried doing his best to avoid the wild blows.
“Frankly, I think you deserve everything the lad dishes out,” Giles said, taking his time to get up from the couch and catch William’s arm before he could do any more damage. The boy continued to fight, hissing and twisting like a feral cat in his arms until Giles resorted to grabbing him round the waist and throwing him on the sofa, pinning him down by dint of body weight alone.
As William thrashed beneath him, Ripper glared over his shoulder it Ethan. “I’d suggest you remove yourself before I release him. Next time I may not be so quick to restrain him.”
Shocked to the core, Ethan scrambled to his feet and fled from the room.
Giles bit back a moan. The boy was still struggling, bucking up and pressing his slim body against Giles’ in such a delicious way that Giles could feel himself getting hard. And that would never do, not so soon.
“Wells!” he bellowed.
Breathless and shaking, Andrew ran back into the room, water slopping from the bowl in his hands. “Here, sir. Sorry, sir. I have the water, sir.”
“To hell with the water, pass me the brandy. The one in the second decanter… I said the second, you idiot!”
Giles released one of William’s hands, meaning to take the decanter, and was rewarded with a punch to the temple that made his already frayed temper snap. Drawing back his hand he delivered an open handed smack that echoed around the room and brought William to his senses, gasping at the sting on his already tender cheek.
“Now then,” Giles said, speaking in a low voice that promised further extremes if he wasn’t heard and heard well. “You will drink some of this, like a good chap, and you will compose yourself. Do you understand.”
Wide-eyed and panting, William nodded, and Giles felt another jolt of arousal strike through him. Such an obedient boy and those eyes… even pinked with tears, he could get lost in those eyes.
Cautiously he released William’s arms and sat up. The boy remained in the same position; hands stretched above his head, body arched, luscious mouth slightly open and cheeks flushed to a rosy hue. Precisely how Giles imagined he would look when he took him for the first time.
“My beautiful Ganymede,” his whispered, his hand reaching out to stroke that perfectly sculpted cheek. A small frown skittered over William’s face and Giles shook himself. It wouldn’t do to alert the boy to his intentions at this early juncture.
“Wells, brandy,” he snapped and, taking the offered decanter, removed the stopper and held the vessel to William’s lips.
Obediently William opened his mouth and swallowed a good mouthful of the liquor, choking on the unfamiliar bitter taste. For a moment there was only the burn as it went down and then the strangest lassitude spread through his limbs and the world fell away.
Giles smiled as the laudanum worked its magic. William’s pupils dilated until only a rim of deep blue remained, his breathing slowed and his body relaxed, shifting from rigid to pliant under Giles’ legs.
“That’s better,” Giles purred. Free now to indulge himself, he cupped the boy’s cheek and ran his thumb over the slightly protruding bottom lip, damp and glistening from the drug laced brandy. “Are you well now, sweet William?”
William nodded, Ripper’s words teasing at the edges of meaning in his warmth wrapped mind. All sense of urgency and worry had been stripped away and he was floating, content and safe. The only real concern was the pain in his mouth that Ripper’s touch had reawakened.
“Hurts,” he said, raising a shaking uncoordinated hand.
Giles slipped a finger inside and felt around, probing to find the damaged places. The boy’s cheek had a nasty laceration and it felt as though he had bitten his tongue but neither injury were cause for worry. A soft suck on his finger made him draw in a sharp breath, and then a soft gentle tongue began to work its way up and down, caressing and stroking.
It was enough to break the strongest of men, the promise of pleasure held in that naive touch, in those lips and that mouth, and Giles had to drag his hand away before he became entirely consumed by desire.
Voice somewhat hoarse, he held out his hand and said, “Cloth,”
Wells fumbled for a moment and then a warm damp cloth was pressed into Giles’ palm. Working slowly and methodically he began to clean William’s face, removing the tear stains and streaks of blood that marred his beautiful skin. Unlacing his collar, Giles pulled it to one side, dabbing down the arch of the boy’s neck and across the top of his smooth chest.
No more than self-inflicted teasing prevented him going further and, finally tiring of his game, Giles tossed the cloth back to Wells and, after flicking open the buttoned suspenders, tugged the shirt over William’s head. The boy tried to help but his hands were obviously beyond his control and he soon gave up, allowing Giles to manipulate his body as he would. A second later the garment fell unheeded to the floor as Giles sat back to admire the span of flesh his actions had revealed. The boy’s wide-eyed innocence and diminutive size had lead Giles erroneously and he had expected to find a more childlike form. What he found instead pleased him enormously. Pale, almost translucent skin, stretched over taut well defined muscles, only lightly marred by the echoes of plumpness. Rosy nipples puckering in the stirring air and, below the dip of his navel, a scattering of hairs promised a proper reward concealed in the boy’s trousers.
“Beautiful,” Giles said again, placing his palm over the steady thump-thump of the boy’s heart and closing his eyes as the heat of William’s flesh sent delicious shivers through his body.
The seconds and the silence drew out, only Wells’ constant fidgeting intruding on Giles’ meditation. It was moments like this he enjoyed the most. Of course the sex was good, he was a man for god’s sake, but there was something about the anticipation, something about a gentle hand against quivering skin, like the first human touch to an unbroken colt, that filled him with a sense of incredible omnipotence. He would become everything to this boy, divinity and saviour, master and mentor. Under Ripper’s hands William would leave his youth behind and reach with all his being for the pleasures of adulthood.
“Good news all round,” Angelus declared, striding back into the room and, oblivious to Ripper’s quiet contemplation, throwing himself down into a chair. “Osborne’s alive and well, or at least, alive. Matron has him in the sickroom and rumour had it that, despite a broken head and a fractured arm, he’ll not be confined more than a fortnight. They didn’t even send for the physician.”
Giles opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a few moments trying to recapture the mood. It was no use; as usual Angelus had shattered his inner calm. Sometimes he wondered whether keeping the lout around was really worth the bother. With a melodramatic sigh, he levered himself off William’s body and, after waving away Andrew and his bowl of water, started working at the buttons on the boy’s trousers.
Angelus, finally noticing what was going on, sat forward in his chair, his eyes glued on the rapidly emerging skin. Periodically his tongue would flick out, swiping across his lips giving him a hungry, predatory look that most boys had learned to fear.
“He’s a pretty piece,” he said when Ripper had stripped the lad down. “What will you be doing with him?”
“Nothing, tonight,” Ripper replied and gave Angelus a look that suggested he’d better not either, if he knew what was good for him. “Tomorrow is soon enough and I’d like him better prepared than this.”
“I’ll get him ready after chapel. Lindsey can-”
A knock on the door interrupted their planning and when Ripper called out, “Enter,” Lindsey, complete with rapidly blackening eye, poked his head in.
“Meers wants to see you,” he said. “Should I let him in?”
Ripper frowned and glanced over at Angelus, who shrugged having no idea what could have brought the lower fourth boy to their rooms at such a late hour.
“Well?” Lindsey asked again looking from one to the other, and then, spotting William nude on the couch, added, “It may be best to cover that up first. Goodness knows what Meers would do, probably faint dead away.”
Angelus snagged the rug from the back of his chair and tossed it to Ripper who threw it over William, concealing him completely.
Meers was even paler than last time when he entered and his gaze hunted once around the room - looking for Wells, Angelus surmised.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” he said, addressing Ripper but positioning himself in such a way as to include Angelus. “But I was hoping I could have Wells back now you have the new boy.”
Angelus was livid. There was only one person who could have known William was here and that was Lindsey. When had he tattled? It must have been when they went to check on Osborne, though Angelus would lay good money that his brother had not been out of his sight for more than a second.
The news didn’t rattle Giles for a moment. He had expected, even wanted, the news to spread. The more people that knew William was here, and had come here of his own accord, the easier it would be to get the boy to stay. However, he was less than willing to release Wells just yet.
“The agreement was for both of them,” he said, “by tomorrow evening. So by my calculations you have at least twenty-four more hours before making a request of that nature.”
“But - I-” Meers stuttered, the expression on his face changing from hopeful to resolved to resigned. “Yes, Ripper,” he said finally, “though Osborne is no longer a hindrance.”
“A matter that was resolved through my intervention rather than yours, I believe.”
Meers’ shoulders sagged, acknowledging that he had lost this round. “Price, the other new boy, will not be attending chapel in the morning,” he said quietly. “Levinson has been told to keep him company in the lower school prep room.”
There, it was done. He had played his trump card and all he could do now was hope it was enough to win Andrew back on the morrow.
Ripper seemed unimpressed, but then he would be in chapel with the rest of the school. Angelus, on the other hand, looked positively ravenous. Leaning back in his chair, the sixth former steepled his fingers in front of his mouth said, “Well, well, Meers, you may have earned your boy’s freedom after all. Tell me, is Levinson willing to play along?”
Meers cringed, knowing exactly what he was letting Price in for the next day, but nodded anyway. Everything had its cost and so long as someone else was paying it, why should he feel guilty.
Warning
Whispers After Dark is an all human AU set at an English boy's public school somewhere around 1850, think Tom Brown's School Days. I haven't been overly specific about the era in terms of research, and I realise some of it is anachronistic, but in this case I really don't care that much.
However, because of the setting, some of the boys will be underage - fifteen at minimum - in case that squicks anyone. There will also be non-con, semi-non-con, bullying, fagging, spankings, the ocassional caning over a desk and private oral tutorials. Needless to say it is NC-17, though the first few chapters is as innocent as the driven snow.
Chapter 5
Strong liquor being forced between his lips made William splutter and waken, suddenly terrified by where he was and who he was with. His dreams, full of blood, pale skin and a cruel sardonic smile, fled when he looked up into the kindest greenest eyes he had ever seen.
“Who… where…?” He tried both and each time his jaw flared in a painful reminder of his hideous crime. Oz was dead. White, still and broken on the bedroom floor. Put there by William’s cowardice in the face of being tossed. Fresh tears flooded his eyes, and they burned as though he had a face full of sand.
“Come now, dear boy,” the stranger cooed, “That’s enough tears for one night.”
“Oz,” William managed to force out. “Dead.”
“Well, this is remarkably frustrating. To go to all this effort and have the boy virtually incoherent.” The touch of irritation in this almost man’s voice made William want to squirm away but he found himself firmly held in place against cushions that smelled of heat and something musky and strange. Rather than fight he let the hopelessness fill him and slumped back, his sore strained eyes fluttering closed.
“He’s under the impression Osborne is dead,” Angelus explained.
“And is he?”
Angelus looked askance at Lindsey, who glared at Ethan who merely shrugged and looked back at Ripper.
“You mean none of you have bothered to enquire?” Indignation rapidly turned to real anger and Giles’ eyes flashed as they flicked from one boy to the next. All of them, Angelus included, cringed at the agonies undreamed of held in their crystalline depths.
“I’m going,” Angelus said, snagging Lindsey by the scruff on his way to the door. Lindsey attempted to duck away, wary of what was going to happen once he was alone with his brother but Angelus, nearly a foot taller and stronger than Lindsey could ever hope to be, dragged him out anyway.
“Now then,” Ripper said, somewhat mollified. “Let us see to our guest.” He turned his attentions back to William and ran a finger down his bruised face.
The conversation about Oz had not gone unheard and it was enough to bring William back to himself, a tiny flame of hope flaring bright in his heart. When he felt the touch on his face, he opened his eyes and struggled to sit up.
“Feeling any more chipper?” he was asked and William nodded, flinching when the action hurt his neck and his jaw. There were teeth loose he was sure of it.
“Boy!” his nurse called out, “Warm water and a cloth, and make it quick.”
William turned towards the quick scurry of movement in the corner and froze when he saw Brolly lounging against the wall. Somehow the fear and grief that had overwhelmed him since he’d seen Oz’s body, twisted into incandescent rage inside him and, without thinking, William launched himself off the couch at the boy who had hurt his friend.
“You cad,” he screamed, his voice cracking from soprano to tenor and back. Brolly darted backwards, catching his leg on a small table and sending it and himself toppling to the floor. And William on was on him, his small fists bunched and punching, pounding into that smug, hated face that had watched while Oz bled and hurt on the ground.
“Bloody hell, Ripper, get him off me!” Ethan cried doing his best to avoid the wild blows.
“Frankly, I think you deserve everything the lad dishes out,” Giles said, taking his time to get up from the couch and catch William’s arm before he could do any more damage. The boy continued to fight, hissing and twisting like a feral cat in his arms until Giles resorted to grabbing him round the waist and throwing him on the sofa, pinning him down by dint of body weight alone.
As William thrashed beneath him, Ripper glared over his shoulder it Ethan. “I’d suggest you remove yourself before I release him. Next time I may not be so quick to restrain him.”
Shocked to the core, Ethan scrambled to his feet and fled from the room.
Giles bit back a moan. The boy was still struggling, bucking up and pressing his slim body against Giles’ in such a delicious way that Giles could feel himself getting hard. And that would never do, not so soon.
“Wells!” he bellowed.
Breathless and shaking, Andrew ran back into the room, water slopping from the bowl in his hands. “Here, sir. Sorry, sir. I have the water, sir.”
“To hell with the water, pass me the brandy. The one in the second decanter… I said the second, you idiot!”
Giles released one of William’s hands, meaning to take the decanter, and was rewarded with a punch to the temple that made his already frayed temper snap. Drawing back his hand he delivered an open handed smack that echoed around the room and brought William to his senses, gasping at the sting on his already tender cheek.
“Now then,” Giles said, speaking in a low voice that promised further extremes if he wasn’t heard and heard well. “You will drink some of this, like a good chap, and you will compose yourself. Do you understand.”
Wide-eyed and panting, William nodded, and Giles felt another jolt of arousal strike through him. Such an obedient boy and those eyes… even pinked with tears, he could get lost in those eyes.
Cautiously he released William’s arms and sat up. The boy remained in the same position; hands stretched above his head, body arched, luscious mouth slightly open and cheeks flushed to a rosy hue. Precisely how Giles imagined he would look when he took him for the first time.
“My beautiful Ganymede,” his whispered, his hand reaching out to stroke that perfectly sculpted cheek. A small frown skittered over William’s face and Giles shook himself. It wouldn’t do to alert the boy to his intentions at this early juncture.
“Wells, brandy,” he snapped and, taking the offered decanter, removed the stopper and held the vessel to William’s lips.
Obediently William opened his mouth and swallowed a good mouthful of the liquor, choking on the unfamiliar bitter taste. For a moment there was only the burn as it went down and then the strangest lassitude spread through his limbs and the world fell away.
Giles smiled as the laudanum worked its magic. William’s pupils dilated until only a rim of deep blue remained, his breathing slowed and his body relaxed, shifting from rigid to pliant under Giles’ legs.
“That’s better,” Giles purred. Free now to indulge himself, he cupped the boy’s cheek and ran his thumb over the slightly protruding bottom lip, damp and glistening from the drug laced brandy. “Are you well now, sweet William?”
William nodded, Ripper’s words teasing at the edges of meaning in his warmth wrapped mind. All sense of urgency and worry had been stripped away and he was floating, content and safe. The only real concern was the pain in his mouth that Ripper’s touch had reawakened.
“Hurts,” he said, raising a shaking uncoordinated hand.
Giles slipped a finger inside and felt around, probing to find the damaged places. The boy’s cheek had a nasty laceration and it felt as though he had bitten his tongue but neither injury were cause for worry. A soft suck on his finger made him draw in a sharp breath, and then a soft gentle tongue began to work its way up and down, caressing and stroking.
It was enough to break the strongest of men, the promise of pleasure held in that naive touch, in those lips and that mouth, and Giles had to drag his hand away before he became entirely consumed by desire.
Voice somewhat hoarse, he held out his hand and said, “Cloth,”
Wells fumbled for a moment and then a warm damp cloth was pressed into Giles’ palm. Working slowly and methodically he began to clean William’s face, removing the tear stains and streaks of blood that marred his beautiful skin. Unlacing his collar, Giles pulled it to one side, dabbing down the arch of the boy’s neck and across the top of his smooth chest.
No more than self-inflicted teasing prevented him going further and, finally tiring of his game, Giles tossed the cloth back to Wells and, after flicking open the buttoned suspenders, tugged the shirt over William’s head. The boy tried to help but his hands were obviously beyond his control and he soon gave up, allowing Giles to manipulate his body as he would. A second later the garment fell unheeded to the floor as Giles sat back to admire the span of flesh his actions had revealed. The boy’s wide-eyed innocence and diminutive size had lead Giles erroneously and he had expected to find a more childlike form. What he found instead pleased him enormously. Pale, almost translucent skin, stretched over taut well defined muscles, only lightly marred by the echoes of plumpness. Rosy nipples puckering in the stirring air and, below the dip of his navel, a scattering of hairs promised a proper reward concealed in the boy’s trousers.
“Beautiful,” Giles said again, placing his palm over the steady thump-thump of the boy’s heart and closing his eyes as the heat of William’s flesh sent delicious shivers through his body.
The seconds and the silence drew out, only Wells’ constant fidgeting intruding on Giles’ meditation. It was moments like this he enjoyed the most. Of course the sex was good, he was a man for god’s sake, but there was something about the anticipation, something about a gentle hand against quivering skin, like the first human touch to an unbroken colt, that filled him with a sense of incredible omnipotence. He would become everything to this boy, divinity and saviour, master and mentor. Under Ripper’s hands William would leave his youth behind and reach with all his being for the pleasures of adulthood.
“Good news all round,” Angelus declared, striding back into the room and, oblivious to Ripper’s quiet contemplation, throwing himself down into a chair. “Osborne’s alive and well, or at least, alive. Matron has him in the sickroom and rumour had it that, despite a broken head and a fractured arm, he’ll not be confined more than a fortnight. They didn’t even send for the physician.”
Giles opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a few moments trying to recapture the mood. It was no use; as usual Angelus had shattered his inner calm. Sometimes he wondered whether keeping the lout around was really worth the bother. With a melodramatic sigh, he levered himself off William’s body and, after waving away Andrew and his bowl of water, started working at the buttons on the boy’s trousers.
Angelus, finally noticing what was going on, sat forward in his chair, his eyes glued on the rapidly emerging skin. Periodically his tongue would flick out, swiping across his lips giving him a hungry, predatory look that most boys had learned to fear.
“He’s a pretty piece,” he said when Ripper had stripped the lad down. “What will you be doing with him?”
“Nothing, tonight,” Ripper replied and gave Angelus a look that suggested he’d better not either, if he knew what was good for him. “Tomorrow is soon enough and I’d like him better prepared than this.”
“I’ll get him ready after chapel. Lindsey can-”
A knock on the door interrupted their planning and when Ripper called out, “Enter,” Lindsey, complete with rapidly blackening eye, poked his head in.
“Meers wants to see you,” he said. “Should I let him in?”
Ripper frowned and glanced over at Angelus, who shrugged having no idea what could have brought the lower fourth boy to their rooms at such a late hour.
“Well?” Lindsey asked again looking from one to the other, and then, spotting William nude on the couch, added, “It may be best to cover that up first. Goodness knows what Meers would do, probably faint dead away.”
Angelus snagged the rug from the back of his chair and tossed it to Ripper who threw it over William, concealing him completely.
Meers was even paler than last time when he entered and his gaze hunted once around the room - looking for Wells, Angelus surmised.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” he said, addressing Ripper but positioning himself in such a way as to include Angelus. “But I was hoping I could have Wells back now you have the new boy.”
Angelus was livid. There was only one person who could have known William was here and that was Lindsey. When had he tattled? It must have been when they went to check on Osborne, though Angelus would lay good money that his brother had not been out of his sight for more than a second.
The news didn’t rattle Giles for a moment. He had expected, even wanted, the news to spread. The more people that knew William was here, and had come here of his own accord, the easier it would be to get the boy to stay. However, he was less than willing to release Wells just yet.
“The agreement was for both of them,” he said, “by tomorrow evening. So by my calculations you have at least twenty-four more hours before making a request of that nature.”
“But - I-” Meers stuttered, the expression on his face changing from hopeful to resolved to resigned. “Yes, Ripper,” he said finally, “though Osborne is no longer a hindrance.”
“A matter that was resolved through my intervention rather than yours, I believe.”
Meers’ shoulders sagged, acknowledging that he had lost this round. “Price, the other new boy, will not be attending chapel in the morning,” he said quietly. “Levinson has been told to keep him company in the lower school prep room.”
There, it was done. He had played his trump card and all he could do now was hope it was enough to win Andrew back on the morrow.
Ripper seemed unimpressed, but then he would be in chapel with the rest of the school. Angelus, on the other hand, looked positively ravenous. Leaning back in his chair, the sixth former steepled his fingers in front of his mouth said, “Well, well, Meers, you may have earned your boy’s freedom after all. Tell me, is Levinson willing to play along?”
Meers cringed, knowing exactly what he was letting Price in for the next day, but nodded anyway. Everything had its cost and so long as someone else was paying it, why should he feel guilty.