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Author's Chapter Notes:
Warnings: Lemon/lime, British boys' school 1974. Very young ages for the characters involved. Enter at your own risk.

They met after second year math, James fairly tumbling out of the classroom in search of Dorian. They'd ostensibly been 'friends' for an entire year, and much more than that at night. James's cousin had flunked a class and been required to stay on floor one, whereas James had passed all of his own with flying colors, gaining a room on floor two. His roommate had been a timid rabbit who'd promptly become ill, leaving him with the room to himself as no one else had moved in and been in need of one. It was quite magnificent, for it offered a great many opportunities for himself and Dorian to 'do it'.

"Good morning, Dorian!" he nearly chirped, happy to see the tall blond and giving him a brilliant smile. "Arithmetic was just magnificent!"

"You're the only person I know who would say that about maths," Dorian muttered, giving him a rueful smile. "Most boys go out for 'normal' things like drama or sport, but not my dear James..."

The dark-haired little thing gave an audible sniff, tossing dark curls back out of his eyes so that both crystalline blue orbs were briefly visible. "If I were boring and normal, you wouldn't like me at all, now would you?"

Dorian laughed. "Quite right!" he said. "Not some dime a dozen pretty face, you, but a true *character* and I mean that in the best possible way." He smiled brilliant down at the younger boy. "Care to walk me across the quadrangle? I have to meet someone."

"All right," James agreed, peeking at him in curiosity. Who could Dorian be meeting? Ah, if it was business, James *was* curious! "Is it someone nice?"

"Oh, yes," Dorian said, "very nice indeed. He's the man who pays for my expenses here in London."

James's mouth stretched into an adorable little 'o' of understanding, one that always made Dorian want to kiss him. "Business, then. How lovely!" He couldn't help but smile. He *liked* to see Dorian getting the best of everything, which was distinctly what he deserved! He was so nice, and James really did love him, even if Dorian didn't like for him to say it...

"I'll be staying overnight with him," the blond said in an odd, off-hand way, "so I won't be able to visit you tonight... but I'm sure you'll find some other way to have fun."

"Like getting caught by the house mother again?" James asked him, a wicked little reminder of the first night Dorian had ever come to him. "I'd really rather not, if you don't mind. She always complains so when she finds you without the proper night clothing."

"Isn't it just *so* inconvenient when that happens?" Dorian drawled, giving a quick wink to a boy who was passing them. "I mean *where* is her sense of fun? Do you suppose she's grouchy because she never gets any?"

The little Scottish boy sniffed. "She's not a pretty boy so of COURSE she doesn't get any! She shouldn't be grouchy just because we *do*..."

"I agree completely but there's nothing to be done about it. Besides," he said, giving James a sly smile, "I rather like stealing into your room at night. Makes me feel I'm getting away with more..." He gave James's arm a slight bump as the walked under the huge chestnut trees that graced the campus quadrangle. "I'm supposed to meet him over there, beside the yew hedge."

"May I meet him?" James asked, curiosity overwhelming. He really DID want to see Dorian's benefactor and judge for himself what kind of man made a good one!

"Oh, well -- yes I suppose," Dorian said. "If we make it quick. He's sometimes in a hurry to get home, but I'll introduce you if you like."

THAT seemed to make James quite happy, for he gave a brilliant smile and nodded. "Only a moment!" he promised. "Even less than a moment! Half a moment!"

Dorian ruffled his hair. "I shall miss you tonight -- very much. What shall you do with yourself?"

"Get plenty of sleep before examinations in the morning!" he was informed mischievously. "And I shall miss you terribly..."

That brought another laugh from the blond. "Such a prim and proper little thing you can be! Well remember, you may *act* innocent, but *I* know the truth!"

"So long as no one *else* does, that's just fine!" James said, nodding firmly. '75 was turning out to be a *much* better year than the previous one, most of the boys who'd tormented him transferring out, graduating, or flunking altogether. It made things MUCH easier! "I like seeming to be that way! Gets me more stuff," he murmured sagely.

"You're a very clever boy," Dorian said approvingly. "There are lots of men out there who are more than happy to shower you with gifts for just that attitude."

"Would *you*?" James asked him, looking up into that beautiful face yearningly. "That's what I should like best of all."

"When I get rich I promise to shower you with gifts," Dorian said solemnly. "But first I have to get rich. Ah -- here's the car."

A gleaming blue Bentley pulled up alongside the sidewalk and the driver, in a neat navy uniform, got out. Dorian, though, went to the back seat window and it rolled down smoothly.

"Hello, my dear boy," the older man in the car murmured, a hand coming out to lightly touch Dorian's cheek, James's curious eyes taking him in all at once. He had dark hair turned to grey, a heavy mustache, but he wasn't terribly bad looking. From what James could see via the window, he seemed to be in reasonable shape, no particular signs of a potbelly or other things that might make lovemaking unpleasant.

He almost wished that there *had* been, but... well. Business was business, after all!

"Hello, Charles. I'd like you to meet a very dear friend of mine. This is James. James, this is Charles." As he spoke he stepped back a bit, so that man and boy could see each other.

"Hello, James," Charles greeted, hazel eyes taking him in with a glance that did not immediately dismiss him, unlike most adults. No, instead, they turned to Dorian, shifted between them a moment, and then he smiled. "How lovely to meet you."

"Very nice to meet you, sir," James murmured, accent strong as he smiled timidly, nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dorian...?"

"Yes," the blond boy said, giving him a last smile. "Get a good night's sleep for that exam tomorrow." With that, the door was opened and Dorian slid inside, the tinted window raising again.

"Very pretty," Charles Bainbridge murmured to his lovely boy, tugging him closely into his lap. He was most grateful for the dark-tinted glass between them and the chauffeur! "A striking contrast. I should like to see the two of you fucking, my lovely boy."

"Oh, that might be a possibility," Dorian said, leaning into the older man's touch. Then he looked up through his lashes and said with an adorable pout, "Don't *you* want to fuck *me*?"

"Ohh, *yes*, darling," the older man sighed, smiling at that adorable pout. Ahh, he did enjoy spoiling the beautiful blond bit of naughtiness greatly! "Should you like to drop your trousers now or wait 'til we've arrived somewhere more appropriate?" After all, he had an excellent suite reserved at a lovely little out of the way hotel, and he quite wanted to take Dorian there before stripping him naked!

"I can wait," Dorian said, wriggling against the man's lap, "but will it take long?"

"Perhaps fifteen minutes, darling dear. Would you like for me to suck your delightful little cock, hm?" Charles teased him. There was nothing quite like the taste of a young, beautiful boy...

"Ohh, *yes*!" Dorian said happily, tumbling sideways until he was sprawled across the back seat, legs apart, biting seductively on one finger as he batted long lashes at his benefactor.

"Pretty toy," the man rumbled, reaching out for him. Effortlessly, fingers well accustomed to undoing school uniforms found their way into his pants, the lack of underwear surely something that would have shocked any given house mother beyond knowing. "*Naught* boy," Charles sighed before leaning down to take the growing hardness into his mouth.

"Mmm... just for *you*" Dorian murmured breathlessly, arching up at the first touch of Charles's mouth on him. "So good to me... so very, very good..."

An almost amused sound slipped from the man as his tongue wrapped around that soft head, teasing at the boy for a moment before moving away from him. "No reason not to be, lovely creature, now is there? You're my pretty boy, and pleasing you's a joy..."

Dorian's head was back, eyes closed, a look of pure, wanton delight on his face. "Ohhh, you do it so *well,* sir..." he breathed, hips arching up to seek the heat of the man's mouth. It was granted him, mouth encircling that delightful stiffness, tasting of the salty liquid slowly gathering in the tip. "Mmmmmmmm..." Being seventeen years old, it never took long for Dorian to tumble over the edge and this time was no exception. He whimpered softly, biting a finger to keep from being *too* loud and with a couple of good thrusts he was coming, back arched, head thrown back on the soft leather upholstery. "Uhn! Uhn! Oh, *sir...*"

That quite seemed to delight his benefactor, the man stroking upward over his hip and to his belly. "Quite sweet, my dear boy," he murmured. "As you always are. I can't wait to get you up to our suite..." They had the same suite every time, as Charles was a creature of inevitable habit; therefore, it was 'their' suite, their place for pleasure, as Charles's wife certainly might not have appreciated Dorian being in their home.

"Mmmm... I'll show you my gratitude," Dorian purred. "You're so *good* to me, sir -- the best I've ever had..."

A breathless chuckle sounded from the man, still hard, but not minding it much. No, not when everything would be so much better later... "I should hope so, my dear boy. I should hope so!"

"Are we going out this evening?" Dorian asked, letting his fingers trail slowly up the man's arms. "Or staying in...?"

"Staying in, I think," was the immediate answer. "I've missed you terribly, particularly while you were gone visiting with your father this summer. I'm quite pleased that you've returned to me, sweetling."

"Mmm... I thought about you. Quite a bit," Dorian said. "Father's friends aren't *nearly* as witty and charming as you are."

At that, Charles laughed again. "You lie beautifully, as well, my satin-soft boy," he nearly purred, stroking up over Dorian's belly. "I appreciate all of your abilities very much. I think perhaps I shall have to particularly reward you for this weekend."

"Oh?" Dorian said, smiling innocently. "And what might that be?"

"What would you like?" The question was answered with a question, meant to be utterly indulgent. "Anything you should want, never mind the expense."

Blue eyes sparkled back at the older man. "Anything?" he asked, wriggling his hips slightly.

"Absolutely anything," Charles promised him a little breathlessly. The way that lovely boy *moved*...!! He'd be mad *not* to promise him anything he wanted!

"There's a little statuette -- in Christie's catalog. It's a little shepherd with a horn..."

Dorian had never had any real question in his mind that Charles would refuse. "It's yours," he was promised, a promise which was accompanied by a kiss that tasted deliciously of his own semen still.

"I'll make it worth your while," Dorian sighed against Charles's mouth. "*All* night..." Such a lovely arrangement they had... he could almost feel the smooth marble of the little shepherd under his fingers.


The tinge of dancing flames always made the older man want to worship at his golden boy a bit more. It would be their last night together for a while, and he hated that, but he couldn't help but adore the fascination on Dorian's face as he paid homage to the lovely expensive piece of cool stone clasped in his hands. "How odd that you should have such love for these things," he murmured, reaching out a finger to touch it, "at your tender years. I should think you'd be like others your age and prefer rock music and such to Beethoven and art..." The Eroica symphony, Dorian's favorite, was on the record player in the corner, playing quietly mingled with the steady pop and crackle of the fire.

"Blame my father," Dorian said, eyes still intent on the shepherd. "He gave me a lot of passions, not the least of which was for beautiful things. I plan to be a collector of them, you know," he said holding the statue at arm's length, over his head, "and this will be one of most treasured pieces."

"And you'll always remember me for giving it to you," Charles remarked softly, a hand tracing down that flat golden belly to caress the inside of Dorian's thigh. "I think I rather like that."

"Ohhh, yes..." the blond boy murmured, gently setting the statue down. "I will think of you -- of this -- every time I see it..." He slid his arms around Charles's shoulders and whispered, "Fuck me again... *please*..."

There was simply nothing more erotic than seeing those lips form such a *filthy* word as that, and Charles loved it. His mouth claimed them, took them, drunk from them before he moved down to Dorian's throat, biting a little roughly and then kissing in apology, suckling and tasting flesh still salty from their last bout of lovemaking. There was something about Dorian that made him feel so *young* again -- young and hard, in desperate need of making love to that slim boy until he simply couldn't think anymore at all.

"Oh, *God* I want you to nail me to the floor!" Dorian sighed, his fingers tightening in the man's graying hair. "Please, sir... *please* don't make me wait!"

That was equally as magnificent as hearing Dorian saying things such as fuck -- hearing himself addressed as sir even in these moments, an unbearably erotic stimulation. "I'll fill you up until you can do nothing but yell," he promised, the hand that had been stroking Dorian's thigh shifting up to grasp his cock tenderly, clasping it closely.

"Uhhn!" Dorian's hips arched upwards, pressing himself into that palm. "You torture me, sir... make me so *hot*... make me want it so *badly*!"

"Indeed..." Oh, his patron was nearly purring with the sheer pleasure of his reaction and Dorian felt the larger man coming over him, kissing him sweetly, sliding between his thighs. He was still sticky and lubricated from their lovemaking barely half an hour before, so it wouldn't hurt, he hoped. No, no, Dorian was a creature all for pleasure...

He moaned softly as he was penetrated, head going to one side, his pretty curls spread out on the hearth rug and a deep blush spreading over golden cheeks. "*Sir*!" he whimpered. "So... so *big*... so deep... uhhhn..."

"Do you like it, sweet?" Charles whispered, panting as he felt the heated clamping round his cock. "D'you want me all the way in you?" Not that he was planning on stopping, a steady thrust sending him deep in that trembling orifice 'til he bottomed out, balls pressed against the soft cleft of Dorian's ass.

Ah, *God*!" Dorian cried, eyes closed, back arched up off the floor. "So lovely and *full,* my dear, exquisite master... only you could do this to me... ohhhh... make me feel it, sir!"

That was all the older man needed, every ounce of permission he felt he should have, and he pulled back only to pound back in, setting up the rough and ready rhythm that he liked best and that his boy responded to so beautifully well. "Huh..." he panted out, stroking curls back out of Dorian's face. "Like... huh... that...?"

With every press inward, a small moan was forced out of Dorian. "Uhhn... so *good,*" Dorian managed to breathe. "Ah, fuck me forever -- so bloody *deep*!"

Oh, and he got what he wanted, the steady thrumming beat of hips between his thighs as he arched up off of the rug, arms tight around Charles's neck and shoulders, his cries spilling like so much grain scattering wildly in a heap as bright as Dorian himself was, bright and life-giving, so full of everything -- health, beauty, strength... "UNH!"

For long moments they simply clung to each other in a deep, sated afterglow. Then Dorian nuzzled against Charles's throat and whispered, "*Thank you*, sir... you do me such an honor..."

"Not so much as you do me, beautiful boy," Charles sighed, pulling him more tightly against his chest. "You're a magnificent lover, Dorian."

"And you..." Dorian murmured, "you are my lover and teacher and so much more..."

Charles kissed him, lips warm on his forehead. "You delight," he sighed. "I'll be most sorry when you tire of me and move on, Dorian, my sweet Eroica..."

"Hmm, I like the sound of that," Dorian said, "but I'm not tired of you at all right now. No other boy I know has a man as lovely and generous as you."

"I should hope not!" Charles laughed, kissing his warm lips once again. "I do try very hard to make sure you're a happy boy. You quite make me delirious with contentedness. A most delightful arrangement all 'round, sweet."

Dorian fitted himself closer to the man and practically purred as he was touched. "I'm so glad father suggested it. He was quite right about you..."

"Your father is a wicked, wicked man!" Oh, and it was *most* true that son took after father remarkably well, for long, long ago, Charles had been one of his lovers, as well. "And you're a very sweet boy. We had ought to go to bed, sweet. Tomorrow's a school day. You'll have to be back early."

"Must we?" Dorian said, almost pouting. "I was so hoping we could bathe together..." He blew a soft, warm breath in Charles's ear.

"That sounds..." The older man couldn't help the sigh that shivered from him. "Mmm, that sounds just magnificent, dear one."

"Oh *good*..." The boy's voice was no more than a sigh as he lifted his face, begging to be kissed again.


Morning was deliciously crisp, frost dotting the campus as Dorian strolled across it, heading for his first class. He was met, rather unsurprisingly, by an excited and very pleased James, waiting for him, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet with obvious delight. "Look!" he caroled, hurrying over. "Look, look what I found while you were gone!" A battered little pouch was pulled from his pocket, carefully patched with a pretty brown satin that had little red roses marching across it. It was opened to reveal tons of small coinage and a few one and five pound notes. "I went walking, and I found *all* of it! Did *you* have a good time?" he asked, looking up at Dorian, wide-eyed.

The blond boy chuckled and gave James's nose a slight tweak. "Yes, thank you, I *did.* Got a lovely little present that I really must show you. *Very* expensive," he added, winking.

"Ohhhh!!!" That was a long, drawn-out sort of sigh, one that sounded just as James usually did when coming in Dorian's arms. "Oh, is it *really* terribly expensive?" he asked, eyes nearly glistening with sheer, unadulterated *need*.

Dorian nodded slowly, looking *very* self-satisfied. "I was a *very* good boy this weekend..."

"Can it be my turn tonight?" James asked wistfully. "I missed you while you were gone..."

"That would be lovely," Dorian said, brushing James's arm as they walked. "Shall I visit you after lights out -- and bring my little treasure?"

"Please!" was the sweetly requested reply. "And maybe this afternoon, we can go and get free cookies?"

Dorian rolled his eyes and stopped outside the English building. "You and your free cookies," he said affectionately. "I can go if I get my math done. I don't know how you *stand* the stuff. I hate it!"

James simply smiled at him sweetly though. "I'll help you with it," he offered. "And I'll always be with you to make sure that you get it right, okay? And that we're never poor. Ever. We'll do it properly!"

"You *are* a funny little thing!" Dorian laughed. "Yes, all right. You'll be my accountant, shall you? I'll charm all the old dears who have money and you can keep the books."

THAT seemed to please the Scottish boy immensely! "That sounds just perfect," he almost purred, face lighting up gleefully. "I'll make you more money than you ever dreamed of having, and then you won't have to have a man anymore! You can have just me! Would..." He paused, tentative. "Would that be all right, then?"

"Oh, well," Dorian said looking down at him, "I'm sure you'd tire of me sooner or later. Want someone new and exciting?"

"Just you," James murmured, cheeks flushing. "Really. Just you."

"You're very sweet, James," Dorian said smiling. "I'd kiss you if we weren't in front of a dozen other boys. However -- I'll make up for the deprivation tonight. Now I must run or I'll be late for class and Mr. Aames does tend to *yell* at anyone coming in after the bell."

He gave James one more wink and hurried up the stairs into the depths of the building.

"I love him," James sighed happily to himself, and headed on to math class.

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