The Aristocrat Pt 01

(Author's Note: This is a bisexual romantic dramedy, so it has gay sex (M/M) and straight sex, and here and there, there are tinges of mild BDSM and at one point a non-consensual moment (not in this episode though.) Just to warn you, because I tend to mix things up in my stories and people don't like it when they're not warned.)

This is a story about people being stupid.

Well, no, that makes it sound like a sad story.

It's also about some people being intelligent and kind. And I think maybe all of us were dicks, at one point or another.

... Okay, that's a really terrible start. I'll begin again.

*

The college years.

I was eighteen years old, and was determined to experiment.

But also, I wanted to find someone special.

I dreamed of finding a lover who would lift me up, mentally and emotionally and sexually, and introduce me to a better sort of life than the one I had known. I had this idea of lying in bed with my lover, the two of us reading French poetry to each other in silk sheets.

Another thing was that I wasn't particularly fussy about whether or not this lover of mine was a girl or a guy.

After years of wondering, I had finally realised that I was bi, after being seduced a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday by a friend of my parents.

I'm not proud of how that sounds, especially as he's married to a woman, but he was a perfect gentleman and, it turned out, very good at teaching a young guy how to be the passive partner in anal sex.

So by the time I got to college, a few months later, I was eager to find someone equally classy, if more my own age, and preferably not married and/or in the closet.

First there was the problem of finding somewhere to live.

*

I tried various people, but with no luck, until after much searching, I saw a notice.

'Easygoing but not sloppy f seeks roommate urgently. Am vegan but don't need you to be. No smokers or pets (allergies). Must be LGBT friendly, no straight guys, sorry.'

I texted the number and got a reply. I went to meet the person.

Having entered the building, I saw a young man coming towards me from the other end of the corridor.

He was one of those few people you meet in life who are genuinely luminous.

He had golden hair, bronzed skin, a slim athletic body in various careful layers of clothing, and he had the most perfect face I'd ever seen on a man or a woman. I have a real weakness for androgynous people, and this guy was, physically speaking, my perfect blend of womanly sensuality and male angularity.

His pale blue eyes were staring past me but, as we drew nearer and I found it harder and harder to take my eyes off him, he swivelled his gaze towards mine and we locked.

He smiled at me.

It felt like a benediction from an angel. This gorgeous person lowered himself enough to see me and display friendliness!

Then we passed each other, and I couldn't resist turning my head to check out his ass.

Only to see that he was apparently doing the same thing.

I flushed crimson to see him looking at me, and he merely smiled again, this time with genuine amusement, before moving on.

By the time I reached the door, his image was seared into my brain. I knocked, feeling dazed, knowing only that whoever he was, I wanted to meet him. Gay or straight or bi, I didn't care--I merely wanted to be around him.

The door was opened.

Inside stood a young woman, about my height, with long uncombed brown hair tied back from her head, wearing a beige hoodie and black shorts. She had wire-framed glasses with quite thick lenses.

I was brought back to earth with a bump. Just now I had been in the presence of divine beauty, and here I was meeting some schlub of a girl.

'Hello,' I said, 'it's about the room.'

'Oh, hi,' she said. 'Come in. I'm Ciara. I put up the ad.'

She stood aside and I went in. There was a faint smell of whatever the previous night's meal had been. Whatever it had been, it had been fried.

The living room was clean, but there were books everywhere on a bewildering variety of subjects: astronomy, literary criticism, computer science, philosophy, plumbing.

'Would you have a cup of tea?' she said cheerfully. 'The kettle's just after boiling.'

'Thanks,' I said.

'Any particular kind?'

'What have you got?'

'Uh... Assam and, that's it, tbh,' she said.

'Well, one of them, then.'

She showed me to a chair and I sat down.

Presently she came in with a tea tray. There was a small bottle of milk and a plate of four biscuits.

'So, yeah,' she said, 'I'm looking for a roomie and, eh, I just wanted to meet yous and see if we'd get on with each other.'

'Okay.'

'So first of all, elephant in the room, you're not straight?'

'No, I'm bi. Identify as queer.'

She nodded.

'Okay, cool. Sorry, you'd be surprised how many straight guys have shown up and said that they didn't think I meant it.'

'I kind of want to ask why you don't want a straight guy as a roomie,' I said, 'but I think I can probably guess.'

'I think you probably can, yeah,' she said, and laughed. 'Just, I've had experiences before and, they just don't work for me.'

I found myself thinking: Really? You?

Ciara seemed like a nice person, but in her shapeless beige hoodie and with her grubby hair uncombed, it was hard to think of her as someone who had to fight off male attention. Her face was narrow, her nose was blade-shaped and slightly crooked, her mouth tended to hang open, revealing some rather buck teeth, and she had acne. It wasn't that she was ugly, exactly; just very... forgettable-looking.

'It's not to do with them being straight,' she said, 'it's just that I find that with gay guys and queer guys, there are different experiences and a different perspective, and I'm tired of the same old same old.'

'Well, you don't have to explain to me,' I said. 'I'm fine with whatever rules you want to set.'

'Oh? Great,' she said. 'Some guys don't like having rules being set for them. In fact I'd a fella in here just now who I won't be offering the room to.'

'Wasn't blonde, good-looking, lots of scarves?' I said.

'That's him, yeah,' she said and pulled a face. 'Adrian. I mean, I hear he's lovely. But he was a lot. I just knew in about a fortnight I'd be picking up his kecks for him.'

'You know him?'

'Through other people,' she said.

Then she squinted at me and grinned.

'I'm not saying he's not hot as shit,' she said. 'But he's kind of... not totally up to speed with women's rights. He looked at me like he was thinking of hiring me to do his laundry.'

'Really?'

'Yeah. Women aren't really on Adrian's radar.'

He was gay! I smiled, partly out of amusement but partly because I could actually meet this paragon, perhaps.

'Well, I do all my own laundry,' I said, 'and I can change hoover bags and I can cook and do a couple of other things.'

'Okay,' she said, nodding. 'And I have been known to randomly dance in my underwear. Participation is not compulsory.'

'That sounds fine,' I said, laughing. 'I'll try not to look.'

'Oh, I don't mind if you look,' she said, smiling. 'I've no shame. It's actually a bad habit.'

'Well, it all sounds great,' I said. 'I mean, if you're willing to have me.'

'Let's make it a provisional Yes type of thing,' she said. 'I'd like to know you a little bit better before we commit ourselves?'

'Of course.'

'Do you drink?'

'I've been known to.'

'Meet for a pint later?'

'Sure.'

'Grand,' she said, smiling, and stood up, holding out her hand. We shook hands.

'Do you have any questions?' she said.

'Not really,' I said. 'What are you studying?'

'Philosophy,' she said.

'Why do you have so many books on plumbing?' I said, smiling, expecting a clever answer.

'It's my job,' she said. 'My folks pay my fees but there's not much left over. So I work for my dad. It's not great because sometimes I get called out at weird hours. But I'm a plumber.'

I felt new respect for her. I wasn't qualified to do anything manual.

'Well, I guess you can fix the toilet and clear the sink, then,' I said.

'Oh, you'll be fixin' the feckin' toilet and clearin' the feckin' sink,' she said, grinning. 'It's easy. I'll show you how. I only do it if I get paid.'

*

Ciara and I went for a drink that evening.

I liked her, and it was enjoyable going for a drink with her because she was clearly rather popular. She kept meeting people she knew, and they would hug warmly and have a kiss, and then she would introduce me as 'Sandy, who's probably gonna be my new flatmate if he works out.' They were nice people, too.

We were on our third drink when I said 'You have a lot of friends.'

'Do I?' she said. 'I dunno. I just like to get on with people. Life's too short to be a dick.'

'I'm not that good at making friends.'

'Why's that?' She looked earnest and sympathetic. 'Is it because of your terrible personality?'

'Yes,' I said, smiling. 'I mean, I've tried everything. Scientology, lipstick. Nothing's worked.'

'Ah, pet,' she said. 'Maybe you should work on that. Do you have weird fetishes or something?'

'Who doesn't,' I said. Ciara raised her eyebrows.

'Fair point,' she admitted.

Then a hand landed on my shoulder and a voice came from behind me.

'Hi, Ciara,' came a soft but luxurious voice. I refrained from looking up because I sensed who it was.

Ciara looked up at the person behind me and raised her eyebrows in a polite smile.

'Hey, Adrian,' she said easily. 'What's the story.'

'Thanks for the interview earlier,' the voice said, low and warm. 'Just to say, I've found a really nice place so I just wanted to withdraw my request.'

'That's grand,' she said. 'Glad it worked out for you. Thanks for letting me know.'

'Have you had any luck finding anyone else?'

'Actually, looks like it'll probably be this guy,' she said, pointing to me. 'Adrian, this is Sandy.'

I turned around and looked up.

That fine-boned face was creased into a smile. The cool blue eyes seared into my soul.

He took his fingers off my shoulder and held out his hand.

'Hi,' he drawled. I shook it.

'Hi,' I said, dry-mouthed.

'Nice to meet you.'

'You too,' I mumbled, feeling hot and sweaty, like I always did in the presence of men I fancied.

'Well,' he said, 'ciao.'

And he let go of my hand and disappeared back into the crowd. I turned around.

Ciara was smiling at me.

'I know you and I've only just met,' she said, 'but I'd swear you're into him.'

'Is it that obvious?'

'I have a nose for these things.'

'He's way out of my league,' I said.

'Hey,' she said, picking up her pint, 'go for it. What's the worst that can happen.'

She took a large gulp, and some of it spilled onto her hoodie. She didn't notice, but licked her lips in satisfaction.

*

So after our very amicable night on the town, Ciara and agreed to be roommates.

I moved my stuff in, and we soon evolved some routines, which seemed to work well. I did a lot of the shopping and cooking, because Ciara had to work as well as study.

I got used to her coming in at late hours, grimy and tired, and taking long showers before finally slumping onto the sofa at half past nine in her bathrobe. So I changed the way I cooked, in order to fit around her schedule.

She said nothing about this to begin with, but one night she was tucking into a bowl of chilli and said through a mouthful of it, 'You're a really good cook.'

'Thanks.'

'I'd swear you've improved since you moved in.'

'It's not that,' I said.

She looked inquiring.

'When I first moved in,' I said, 'I used to stir-fry everything. But half the time, you're not here to eat it when it's ready, and it wouldn't taste as good when you finally got around to it. So now I cook things that taste just as good when you reheat them, and all I have to do is microwave some rice, or whatever.'

She stared at me.

'You did that for me?' she said. 'Awww.'

'Gotta keep you fed,' I said.

'You're a good man, Sandy,' she said contentedly, and shoved another forkful of chilli into her mouth.

*

In the meantime, I had my eyes on my target.

I gathered my intelligence. Adrian was studying law. His family was wealthy and his father was a barrister. I was studying sociology and gender studies and my dad worked for a data company. I was looking forward to a future making coffee for other people. But I didn't care. I was actually interested in sociology and gender studies.

Nevertheless, Adrian was the one I spent my daytime and night-time hours thinking about. The night-time hours led to some especially lurid dreams, after which I always made sure that I put my own pyjamas in the washing machine. Not that I think Ciara would have commented, but given her generally honest and no-bullshit manner, she might have hinted at something.

I consolidated my wardrobe. I stopped wearing t-shirts and jeans and started wearing chinos and shirts. I spent money on haircuts, instead of cutting my own hair like I'd done for years.

And I read French poetry in public. What? I like French poetry. Sue me.

By means of carefully hanging around in cafes he liked, and smiling at him when we passed in corridors, and most importantly, letting Ciara tell her friends that I was into him, I was able to be at the bar one night when Adrian appeared beside me.

'Oh hi,' he said, smiling down at me. He was, of course, taller than me.

'Hi.'

'Ciara's friend.'

'Yes.'

'She's great,' he said.

'Well, we're just roommates,' I said.

'Are you here by yourself?'

'She's working tonight.'

'What does she do again?'

'She's a plumber.'

'That's fantastic,' he sighed, as if plumbing was something that us mere mortals couldn't aspire to do. 'Are you here by yourself?'

'Well, we were meant to meet, but she got a job, and I was thirsty, so...'

'Want to join us?'

'Thank you,' I said as graciously as I could, inclining my head.

I joined Adrian's table. His friends were all male, all seemed to be law students and had names like Tarquin and Lambert. They eyed me with polite fixed smiles. I realised that any one of their shirts was probably worth more than my entire outfit.

Despite the initial awkwardness, Adrian was a perfect host. He kept the conversation going, always included me, laughed at everyone's stories and the atmosphere soon warmed up a bit. We got talking about relationships--most of his friends seemed to be either engaged to girls with names like Dorcas and Haley, or guys with names like Oliver and Yves. I mentioned in passing that I was single. I became rather conscious of the fact that I was wearing a pride flag pin; none of them were.

At the end of the night, everyone started to disperse and we were standing outside the bar.

'Want to walk with me?' Adrian said. 'You can't be too careful in this town.'

'Sure,' I said. My heart was beating at the thought of having some time alone with him.

We walked through the dark streets, which were glistening with recent rain. Adrian asked me what I was studying, where I had grown up, what my plans were. It was like talking to an older and wiser mentor, even though I estimated he was no older than I was; he simply seemed to have figured it out, when I hadn't.

'So,' he said, 'where are you on romance?'

'Well, I wouldn't turn it down,' I said, feeling myself flush pink. He smiled.

'Well, you've got Ciara as a roommate.'

'Yeah. She's very nice, but I don't, uh...'

'Why not?'

'Well... she's not really my type.'

'You don't like girls?'

'Oh, I do. I'm bi, actually.'

'Are you,' he said, smiling, and he linked his arm in mine.

'I mean, she's cool and everything, but I'm not attracted to her. And I don't want to mess up the whole roommate thing, because it's working nicely.'

'Yes,' he said thoughtfully. 'Mind you... I hear she's quite the, uh... how can I put this...'

'What?' I was genuinely puzzled.

'Village bike,' he said, and then covered his laugh with his hand. 'Sorry. She's a doll and all. But she'll basically have anyone.'

'Wow,' I said. 'Can't say I've noticed.'

'You will. Perhaps it's because she feels like she could grab every chance she can get it. I mean, if I looked like her...'

I laughed at this, and felt bad immediately.

'I'm sorry,' Adrian said. 'I'm awful. I'm a terrible, terrible person. You should avoid my company.'

'I don't want to,' I said, looking at him.

He stopped, and we looked at each other for a long moment. He raised one eyebrow--a talent I've always envied.

'C'mere,' he said softly.

I stepped closer to him, and he took my face in his hands. I didn't move, but parted my lips slightly.

He kissed me, and thrust his tongue into my mouth. I sighed with happiness.

He moved his hands down to my ass and squeezed it, pulling my hips forward so that our crotches rubbed together. I was hard. So was he.

It was a long, long kiss. When he finally broke away, I was quite breathless.

He stared at me, smiling.

'You're rather interesting,' he murmured. 'I think I may make you my project.'

'That sounds good,' I said.

'In the meantime,' he said, glancing upwards, 'this is me.'

I looked up. We were in a three-storey Georgian terrace, and we were outside a gleaming house with a heavy door.

'Ah,' I said, understanding what was expected of me. 'Okay. Sure.'

'Give me your phone,' he said. I took it out and opened it and handed it to him. He opened the Contacts and entered his details, and handed it back.

'Now,' he said, 'time to say goodnight.'

I texted 'Goodnight x'. There was a beep and he took out his own phone and held it up.

'There we are,' he said. 'Now we're friends. I'll be in touch, Sandy.'

'I'll look forward to it,' I said.

He reached down and squeezed my cock through my chinos. I gasped.

He stepped back and looked me up and down.

'You don't have to dress up for me, you know,' he said. 'Just wear whatever you'd like to wear.'

I blushed at how well he'd seen through me. He winked, turned and sprang up to the steps to the front door. He opened it, turned, gave a little wave and slipped inside.

I walked home, feeling like I was stepping on clouds.

*

When I got home, Ciara was on the sofa in her pyjamas, watching TV, an empty pizza box in front of her and a half-drunk bottle of beer next to it.

'Hey,' she said. 'Have a good night?'

'Not bad,' I said, grinning.

She sat up and crossed her legs beneath her.

'Adrian kissed me,' I said.

'Ohmigod! So cool!'

She put her hands to her face and squeezed her cheeks together while beaming at me.

'I think he likes me.'

'Well, if he kissed you, duh.'

'He says he wants to make me his "project".'

'The fuck does that mean?'

'No idea. But he gave me his number and said he'd be in touch.'

'That's awesome. Seriously.'

She sat there, smiling and sipping her beer, as I told her about the evening. She offered me a beer, but I had had enough. When I'd finished, she nodded her head in approval.

'Well, I'm really happy for you. Hope it works out.'

She stretched and yawned.

'I'm gonna take a long shower. I just realised these pyjamas are manky.'

'Cool.'

She unfolded herself off the sofa and picked up the pizza box and empty beer bottle and walked into the kitchen. I heard her putting the bottle in the recycle bin and there was a pause.

'Don't come in,' came her voice. 'Just putting these jammies in the washing machine.'

'Okay.'

Then, after a pause, I heard the bathroom door shut and then the shower started up.

I sat there for a long time, thinking about the prospect of getting to know Adrian better, and at some point in the not too distant future, finally getting to see that lean, bronze body outside of his clothes. I closed my eyes and imagined it. I was storing up fantasies for a little private pleasure after I'd gone to bed.