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Marcus left it on the side table under a book, nothing like what he usually read. It caught Kal's eye because it looked like the sort of cheap chapbook the boys passed around belowstairs, tawdry nonsense about romance and highway robbers and murders that Kal read whenever he had a moment away from Marcus.
It was–not that. Dick Pole, or, the Memoirs of a Gentleman of Pleasure, the cover said, with an extremely detailed picture of a boy getting fucked in the ass at a party in the frontispiece. Marcus would never read such a thing.
Except it was sandwiched between the book of poetry Marcus had been reading and a stack of letters he'd answered. Kal sat on the edge of the bed and flipped through it, illustrated with more dirty pictures. Most of them Kal had seen or had done to him, but a few he hadn't. Couldn't much imagine Marcus doing them either.
Kal glanced at the door. Bruno had already been in to collect the laundry and Marcus was out for the day; Kal had thought to read a bit and sketch before napping. No one would know if he read it, and it wasn't as though Marcus had hidden it.
It was very stupid. Not the kind of thing Marcus read at all, with all his flowery dense poetry and books about rhythm and meter and symbolism. Kal hadn't known that there were books about sex at all, except for the racy sort of romances with promising young men getting seduced by rakish widows that got passed around as cheap chapbooks with torn covers. Kal sat in the bed with his knees up, the book half hidden in his lap, folded in his sketchbook in case Marcus or Bruno came back. It wasn't exactly that he thought Marcus might mind, but Kal had never read any of Marcus' books without being told to, and none of them talked about what it was like to suck cock for the first time.
The story wasn't much of a story, not like the chapbooks about highway robbers where there was always a murder, a daring escape, a tearful confession and grisly execution. This nonsense meandered through stories about the titular Dick going off to boarding school and learning to suck cock, going skinny dipping with school friends and being fingered to completion on a sunny day. Maybe that was why Marcus liked it; he'd been to boarding school. Kal had a hard time imagining himself kissing boys and giving handjobs between lessons because he had a hard time imagining lessons, but maybe that was what Marcus' school had been like. Marcus was a bit like Dick, sunny and vapid and ready for any kind of sex.
Kal pressed the heel of his hand to the base of his cock, distracted by the thought of Marcus at school, younger and innocent and learning to suck cock as well as he did now. He'd have been so pretty, a little clumsy, but just as eager as he was now. Maybe Kal couldn't imagine what lessons were like but he could imagine teaching Marcus how to suck cock–sharing a bed with him at night and showing him how to touch himself beneath the covers while they kissed. Maybe Marcus had done that with his friends, maybe Kal could have taught him how to be fucked for the first time.
Kal wrapped a hand around his cock, biting his lip with a guilty glance at the door. If they'd been friends at school, like in the book, Kal could have shown Marcus how to use his pretty mouth, could have kissed him through it while he came for the first time with both their hands on Marcus' cock. The pictures made the school dorms look nothing like the dorms at the brothel–soft beds, curtained and private with two boys forehead to forehead touching each other. Like they had all the time in the world, like they liked each other, like they were friends.
If Kal had been friends with Marcus at school, Kal could have fucked him for the first time and taken it so slow and sweet while Marcus tried not to make any noise. Then Marcus would always blush about Kal when one of his friends at the club teased him, and not that stupid stuck up Caius who'd taken Marcus' virginity and then broke his heart. Kal wouldn't have done that, he'd have made it so good, and they'd have stayed friends. Maybe swimming Marcus would have blushed all down his chest getting hard where everyone could see and then Kal could have sucked him off in the warm grass–
“Kal, have you seen my damned keys–” Marcus said, coming in the door just as Kal slammed the book shut in his lap.
“No,” Kal said, very carefully trying to sound like he hadn't just had his hand around his cock sneaking looks at dirty pictures.
Marcus gave him a strange look. “Are you ill?” he said, looking Kal up and down as he came over to the bed.
“No, master,” Kal said, head down and hoping Marcus wouldn't see the book in his lap, closed guiltily in his sketchbook. Kal could feel himself blushed bright red across his cheeks and to the tips of his ears, burning worse with Marcus' eyes on him. His cock throbbed under the weight of the closed books, as though he could hear his heart hammering and feel the weight of Marcus' look on the skin of his thighs where his tunic rode up.
Marcus stepped close enough to see Kal's hands white around the sketchbook and its secret, and he reached down to take it from Kal's unresisting hands. “You've been reading this?” Marcus said, setting Kal's sketchbook on the nightstand and looking at the novel.
“I'm sorry, master, I didn't mean to–” Kal said. Marcus didn't want him to fuck anyone else, he should have known better–
“Did you like it?” Marcus demanded, discarding the book to lean over Kal and run a hand up his thigh to his cock. “Seems like you liked it,” Marcus said with a laugh, stroking Kal's cock slowly as he kissed Kal's throat to make a dark mark.
“I–yes, master,” Kal said, arching up into him. He was so close he was going to come all over Marcus' hand, fingers tangling in the buttons of Marcus' waistcoat just trying to get it off him. Marcus laughed dirtily, sucking two of his fingers to press into Kal and undoing his cravat with his other hand. Kal fumbled with the buttons of Marcus' waistcoat like he'd never undone them before, the angle awkward on his back with Marcus' fingers pressing insistently into him.
Marcus finally took pity and stripped out of his waistcoat himself, throwing it and his shirt and cravat on the floor before climbing onto the bed with an intent look to cover Kal. He yanked Kal's tunic up off of him and then pressed a hand to his hip to keep him on the bed. Kal twisted and tried not to whine as Marcus dipped his fingers into the ointment on the nightstand and got his cock out of his trousers to slick it, standing attention hard and leaking already himself.
“What part did you like best?” Marcus asked, looking Kal up and down as he stroked his own cock, like he was going to make Kal beg for it. He looked so good, broad shoulders bare in the morning light and hair mussed from taking off his shirt like he'd just been fucked.
“The fucking,” Kal said, trying to hurry things along. It wasn't like he needed to seduce anyone, not flat on his back laid out bare.
Marcus laughed and finally bent to cover Kal with his weight, biting his throat. “It's all fucking,” Marcus said, hands on Kal's ass to lift him up and finally push into him. Kal shuddered, arms around Marcus' neck like it was him that was the virgin. Marcus' teeth grazed Kal's throat as Marcus' weight pressed him to the mattress, covering him fully as Kal shuddered and twisted under him with the buttons of Marcus' trousers brushing his thighs and balls.
“I don't think I could share you at a party, but you'd be a very pretty centerpiece,” Marcus said against Kal's throat. Kal froze under him, Marcus oblivious. Kal hadn't read anything like that, like the bad nights at the whorehouse when he had to drink himself stupid to get through the night, but there had been that picture in the frontispiece. “Everyone would be so annoyed, you'd be so pretty but I wouldn't let anyone touch you.”
Kal stared at the ceiling as Marcus fucked him, feeling himself go far away like he had at the whorehouse. Marcus had never threatened anything like that before. Kal thought very distantly that he should pretend to moan or like it but he couldn't make himself, too afraid Marcus would carry through with the threat if he thought Kal would be pretty enough getting fucked by everyone at a party.
“Or you'd be pretty with a few stripes from a cane,” Marcus said, close. Kal swallowed hard and turned his face away. He wasn't hard anymore, close as he'd been. Marcus wouldn't like that when he realized. Kal squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about it. Trying to go away and let Marcus hurt him. Marcus' weight was too much, trapping him, the buttons of his trousers sharp against the backs of Kal's thighs and his joints aching with Marcus' weight pressing him into the mattress. “I think you'd like a couple of welts,” Marcus said against his ear, breath warm and hand tight around Kal's thigh. “Do you think you'd cry for me a little?”
“Yes,” Kal said vaguely, doing what he was told for a client to get it over with. It didn't matter if Marcus wanted to hurt him.
Marcus propped himself up on an elbow, so close Kal could feel him holding back. Kal kept his eyes closed and his face turned away so he wouldn't have to see Marcus annoyed with him. “You didn't read that far,” Marcus said, kissing under Kal's jaw. It felt good, his hands on Kal's thighs, his weight pinning Kal down. It didn't matter if Marcus wanted to hurt him. Kal would like it if Marcus told him to. “Which part did you read?” Marcus asked. He’d stopped moving in Kal, just kissing his throat and chest and stroking his face. It made it too hard to be distant, too hard to go away from himself and Marcus when it was exactly what he'd thought he'd wanted before Marcus came in.
“The–the parts at school,” Kal said, swallowing and trying not to sound as far away as he was. Marcus touched his hip and belly with light fingers, angling to brush the back of his hand over Kal's soft cock.
“Not the bit with the ginger,” Marcus said, and Kal couldn't help the way his whole body flinched.
“No,” Kal said. He shivered as Marcus continued to pet his side. Kal made himself open his eyes, made himself come all the way back to Marcus' weight on him and the overwhelming, heady smell of him in their bed. Kal had seen a client once fig and whip a boy like a horse, metal bit and all, until he was crying and bloody. He'd always thought Marcus was kind to his horses. “It was the part with the meadow,” Kal said when Marcus seemed to be waiting for something. “The part with the pond.” He sounded so stupid, voice tight and staring at the wardrobe. No wonder Marcus didn't want to keep fucking him.
“There's a pond and meadow down the lane here,” Marcus said, stroking Kal's thigh. Slow, from the curve of his ass up to the bend of his knee where Marcus' weight had him splayed open, then back. Marcus kissed over the dark marks he'd left earlier. “You'd look so pretty laid out on a blanket in the sun. We'll go down there so I can kiss all your freckles and throw you in the cold pond.”
Kal laughed weakly, caught by surprise even with his face still turned away. Marcus smiled against his skin and kissed along his jaw, starting to stroke Kal's cock slowly. “Or I could throw you in the pond?” Kal said, trying to find what Marcus wanted from him, trying to chase the warm feeling he'd had reading. “Master?”
Marcus laughed quietly, starting to work Kal back to hardness. “You could,” Marcus said, his hand slow and steady. It would have been better if Marcus left the piercing alone, if Kal could have pretended it wasn't there, but there was no way to ask for that, to ask Marcus to not treat him like what he was. It was good enough, Marcus didn't want to hurt him, Kal didn't need to ask for anything else and make Marcus annoyed with him. “But I'd sulk and whine, you'd have to warm me up after with your pretty mouth.”
Kal turned his face back to let Marcus kiss him slow, shivering again as Marcus started fucking him again and embarrassed about how badly he wanted Marcus' gentleness. Marcus rocked into him, holding him close. Arms over Marcus' shoulders and face hidden in Marcus' shoulder, Kal could pretend that Marcus wouldn't ever hurt him, wouldn't use him like what he was, that it could be just them in bed kissing and touching like Kal was the kind of person to go to school and go to lessons. Kal came across his belly and Marcus' with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, like pretending could make him the kind of person who didn't get caned or shared at parties.
It hurt after, it hurt as Marcus finished in him, it hurt as Kal realized his lashes were wet, it hurt as Marcus kissed him like Kal was precious and Marcus hadn't just said he wanted to cane him. Kal clung to him as Marcus finished, embarrassing and stupid with how fragile and broken open he felt about a book of stupid, cheap pornography.
Marcus pet him after, stroking Kal's hair where Kal lay against his chest, Marcus still in just his trousers and bare chested. Kal felt filthy, wrung out and tired. He'd go to the bathhouse in the afternoon. He'd be fine.
“We'll go down to the meadow this week,” Marcus said after a while, stroking Kal's arm and side. Marcus still had his eyes closed, sleepy. “The apple trees should still be blooming. I'll kiss all your pretty freckles and you'll get a dozen more lying in the sun.”
Kal tucked closer against Marcus' side and nodded, not trusting his voice. Marcus kissed his hair, petting him gently.