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1.
Joey watched Chris laugh and tried to remember what it felt like. “What do you mean?” Chris shrugged as he blew smoke rings towards the ceiling. “Only that you’re frightfully boring recently.” He settled more deeply into his wing-backed chair and squinted through the smoke at the recently titled Earl. “Like the life had been sucked out of you. Problems with Kelly?” Joey inhaled deeply of his cigarette and held the breath for several counts, thinking. Fashion dictated that he should only puff the cigarette lightly, but he thought little of society’s rules. “When is she not a problem?” he finally said, words punctuated by puffs of smoke. Chris shrugged again, grinning at himself. “Thought you were rid of her is all.” “Thought I was too,” Joey admitted. “She’s being… complicated. Insisting I continue to provide for her until she finds a new sponsor.” “On what grounds?” “Oh, she doesn’t have a leg to stand on, but it makes my life easier if she doesn’t come to my door begging every day.” Chris grimaced as he flicked his ash in the tray on the table between them. “Pathetic.” “Slightly, yes.” “Non sequitur warning.” “Go ahead.” Chris dropped the butt of his cigarette in the tray. “Will you be at the play tonight?” “If I must.” “Your mother will be there, yes?” “First of the Season, I assume so.” “Well, no one will be in my box. We’ll hide there.” Joey nodded and stamped out his cigarette. “Till then.” ---- Five years and his mother still wore her mourning veil. He could see her in their family’s box, clearly visible from Chris’s. Her opera glasses were up, scanning the occupants of the boxes across from her. He hadn’t been prepared for his father’s death. Inevitable, he knew, that he would one day be titled and forced into the life of landed gentry. But his father had died a relatively young man, leaving his mother a relatively young widow. What had before been merely an academic knowledge that he would one day shoulder the responsibility of his title had instead become a present reality. An inevitable future, but not a welcome one. “You’re brooding again.” Chris slipped into the box, settling himself in the chair next to Joey’s. “Sorry. Must be the boring in me.” He slouched a little, pressing behind the curtain as the glasses swung their way. Chris smiled indulgently and turned his head away. “You do it so well,” he said, barely moving his lips. “How fortunate for you.” “Oh?” “Since you’re around so often.” Chris smothered a laugh as he checked the position of the opera glasses. “She’s not looking anymore.” Joey nodded and straightened again. “Neat trick. Does that work at home?” “Not as often as I’d like.” “Gentlemen,” a new voice said, and they both turned toward the box’s opening. “There room for one more?” Joey recognized the voice without needing to see the face. He’d heard that voice before, many times before, and it filled him with anger and longing all at once. “I’m sorry, I had them remove all the extra chairs, Kevin.” Chris almost sounded regretful, but Joey knew that Kevin knew better. Kevin Richardson smiled. “I’ve provided my own, thank you.” He stepped back and returned quickly, bearing one of the box’s discarded chairs. He placed it between Chris and Joey’s and settled slowly. “Hiding from your mother, Joseph?” he asked, smirking. “I would think you’d grown beyond childish games.” “You’ll let us know when you have,” Chris said. “If you would.” Kevin glared at Chris but chose not to answer as the house lights went down and the curtain rose. The play was Romeo and Juliet and Joey had seen the work before but not with Kevin beside him, reawakening long dead impulses and desires with his mere presence. Joey tried to keep hating him but didn’t know if he could. The room became blackest just after the prologue and Joey felt Kevin’s hand smoothing up his thigh. He spared a quick glance at Kevin’s face, but he only watched the stage, paying no attention to the other men in the box. Joey pushed the encroaching hand away. The stage lights came on again, casting the lower half of the box into even deeper shadows by contrast, and Kevin’s hand came back again as Joey’s eyes remained fixed on the stage. He caught the hand again, but Kevin squeezed this time, grasping his thigh and Joey let him, couldn’t stop him without calling attention to himself. Kevin’s hand began to move under his, on his thigh. Not stroking, but pulsing, squeezing every few seconds and Joey could feel the tugs all the way up his leg. Two men wandered about onstage, Romeo and Benvolio arguing, but none of the scene mattered. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him and he didn’t resist when Kevin’s hand wandered again. He could almost hear Kevin’s intake of breath, the quiet satisfaction at finding Joey hard, affected, and he could almost see the self satisfied smile. He couldn’t resist, couldn’t take his mind off the hand fondling his cock, and then Romeo’s scene ended and Juliet walked onstage. He could hear Kevin’s mocking laughter at his quick gasp, and Kevin tightened his grip on Joey’s cock as he leaned towards Joey’s ear. “Beautiful, isn’t he?” Kevin breathed. The boy was young, had to be, but Joey could tell the voice he spoke in was a falsetto and not the high, sweet tones of a younger boy. His neck was too much a man’s to fit the role, his shoulders a little too broad, but his hips fit the dress perfectly, rounding out the falsely added bell-shaped curve given him by under wire. His face was perfect: cheek bones high and rouged; skin a creamy white; lips red and wide and shiny. “I knew you’d like him,” Kevin said, but Joey barely heard him anymore, heard only the boy and felt only Kevin’s hand on him. “Do you remember what we were like?” Kevin’s breath moistened his neck and Joey fought the urge to shiver. “I know you do. You’re thinking about it now… You can have him. Have that with him,” Kevin said. “You know you could.” Kevin leaned closer and caught Joey’s lobe between his lips, sucking lightly. “If I don’t get him first,” he whispered, running his tongue over the shell of Joey’s ear before he pulled away and stood, excusing himself from the box. Joey shuddered and cursed and glanced at Chris who stared straight ahead and Joey knew he was pretending Kevin had never been there.
Joey wished he could do the same.
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