Part Fourteen
Pursuit

"Trehn-tonne, this is my good friend, Gervase Underhill."

Trenton eyed the older man uncertainly. Anatole hadn't said anything about spending the day with anyone else. Still, it was to be expected. Trenton couldn't ask Anatole to give up his friends just to keep him company. He offered his hand. "How do you do, sir?"

Underhill shook his hand. "Sir? Please, dear boy, you make me feel ancient. Call me Gerry. Anatole tells me that you're from Metropolis."

"Yes, sir. I mean Gerry."

"Fascinating city. I'm due there on a lecture tour sometime next year. Perhaps I'll be able to drop by and say hello."

"Sure, I guess so." Trenton knew that he didn't sound too enthusiastic, but, well, he wasn't too enthusiastic. He had the same reaction to Gervase Underhill in the flesh that he'd had to his portrait--he got the feeling that this man was not entirely safe.

The Bienvenues had dropped him off on the sidewalk in front of Anatole's apartment, and Anatole had been watching at the window. He came down and greeted his parents before they drove off, then escorted Trenton upstairs, and Gervase Underhill had been lounging on the sofa when they entered. He got up and came toward them quickly, and Trenton felt a trickle of unease when he saw the look in his eyes. Somehow it was just too eager for this situation. He had to fight the urge to take a step back.

"So," Anatole clapped his hands together. "First, lunch I think. Then what shall we do till this evening?"

"There's an American movie playing at the cinema downtown. How about that?"

"Okay, sounds good." Trenton missed movies. He'd usually gone at least once a week back home.

They ate lunch at one of the innumerable cafes that spread throughout Paris. Gervase requested a booth. Trenton was a little nonplused when Gervase sat on his side. He found himself scooting away an inch at a time till he was snugged into the corner. Gervase sat much closer than was comfortable for the boy. He found Gervase's leg pressed along his own, his shoulder jostling him. Trenton was a little puzzled. He'd always heard that Englishmen were aloof and standoffish.

Worse than the invasion of personal space, Gervase was a toucher. He kept putting his hand on Trenton's shoulder, or arm, or back, to press a point, and the hand lingered just a little longer than he was comfortable with.

It was a relief to go to the theater, though it was a little alien. The candy selection was different from what he was used to. The posters were mostly in French, and some of the movies advertised featured actors and actresses he'd never heard of. But the smell was right--the popcorn and hot butter sauce, and the slightly musty smell of upholstered seats that probably weren't cleaned often enough, and chilled air.

Gervase had seemed amused by the large bucket of popcorn he bought. "After that lunch you put away, I don't know how you'll manage it." He'd patted Trenton's flat belly as he said that, and Trenton found himself twitching away.

Trenton sat between the other two men, crunching his way through the popcorn while he waited for the movie to start, and they spoke across him. When the lights went down, Anatole said, "Trehn-tonne, you must be very quiet during the movie. I know sometimes Americans like to talk, but that is frowned upon here. If you must speak, do so in a whisper, please."

"Sure, Anatole. I'm not that inconsiderate."

"We didn't really think you were, dear boy," Gervase murmured. "but you young Americans can be so boisterous sometimes. You can't really help it. All that healthy energy just oozes out." Trenton stared at him, and ate another mouthful of popcorn.

The film was pretty interesting. It was a caper movie about a bunch of guys who'd known each other in the army getting together to rob a casino in Las Vegas. Somehow you were in sympathy with the guys, because they all seemed to have been screwed over, one way or another, and it was made out like they weren't really robbing any one person, but sort of a big, impersonal corporate monster, who wouldn't really miss it. Of course things went wrong, and people got killed. No one ever seemed to just get away with anything in the movies.

When Gervase's knee nudged his Trenton didn't think much about it. The seats were pretty narrow, and when the other man laid his arm across the back of his seat Trenton just assumed that it was because he had been hogging the arm shared between their seats. Then he noticed that Gervase's hand had somehow made it's way from the seat, down onto his shoulder.

Trenton frowned to himself, sitting a little stiffly. He wouldn't have minded if Anatole had done it. After all, he and Anatole were... Well, they were close. But he didn't know this man and he wasn't sure he even liked him. He just seemed way too familiar, way too fast, but he wasn't sure exactly how to react. He didn't want to seem rude. He had no idea that Underhill was counting on this.

The hand started to move. The fingers flexed, massaging his shoulder. Trenton glanced at Gervase, but he seemed engrossed in the film. *He must not even notice what he's doing. It's like drumming his fingers or tapping his foot, I guess.*

He wasn't able to tell himself that when the hand settled on his thigh and squeezed. Trenton looked down at it in astonishment. The long, elegant fingers splayed across the firm column of his thigh, scratching lightly at the denim of his blue jeans. He looked up at Gervase, and this time he wasn't watching the screen--he was looking directly at Trenton.

Gervase stared into the wide green eyes. Oh, such a look of shocked innocense. It made him hard. The boy shook his head firmly. Gervase only smiled. He moved his left hand to the back of the boy's neck, working his fingers up into the soft auburn curls at the nape. He started to slide his right hand down along the inside of the boy's thigh.

Trenton moved suddenly, giving his entire body a brisk shake that threw Gervase's hands off. Anatole frowned at him, and whispered, "Trehn-tonne, what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Dropped some ice in my lap." He rattled his cup suggestively, and looked pointedly at Gervase. "Almost spilled the whole thing."

Gervase's lips twisted in an ironic smile, and he whispered, "Be careful, dear boy. You wouldn't want to do anything that might cause yourself discomfort." He kept his hands to himself the rest of the movie, but Trenton caught him studying him every now and then.

*I can't believe that,* he fumed to himself. *I don't even know the guy, and he's groping me in the movies. I hope Anatole didn't notice. I mean, I know we're not going steady or anything, but I think him and Gervase are kind of together. I don't want Anatole to get his feelings hurt and maybe think I was trying to flirt with his guy.*

When the movie was over it still wasn't time to go to the party. After some discussion they strolled the streets, window shopping. They located an old book store and Trenton was eager to explore it. Inside it was deep, narrow, dim, and dusty; fascinating to Trenton. The three split up to pursue individual interests.

Trenton eventually found himself in the very back corner. He'd located a stack of old American pulp magazines--Spicy Detective, Racy Adventures, Horror Tales... He became absorbed, flipping through them, so absorbed that the hand on his ass made him jump and squawk. He whirled to find Gervase smirking at him. Trenton reacted with instinctive anger, slapping him across the chest with the magazine he was holding, but he kept his voice low when he hissed, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Just offering a gesture of admiration, Trent. You have a lovely arse."

"Well, quit it. I don't appreciate it."

"Oh, come now, Trent. Don't pretend that you're offended by having a man show sexual interest in you. I know my Anatole. He hasn't let a darling thing like you slip by when you've been sharing sleeping quarters."

Trent blushed furiously. Surely Anatole hadn't been talking about what they did? He'd never asked the Frenchman not to, but still... He wasn't ashamed of the fact that he was gay, but he wasn't ready to start spreading the word to the world, either. He would choose who knew when he was ready. Maybe Underhill had just worked things out for himself. In any case, Trenton was definitely not interested in the older man. He could admit that Gervase was attractive in a purely physical way, but there was something about the man that just made Trenton feel cold inside.

"I'm not interested in you, okay?"

"Oh dear, now my feelings are hurt." Gervase didn't sound the least offended. What bothered Trent was that he didn't look very discouraged, either. "But I'm very, very interested in you, Trenton. I think you're absolutely luscious, especially when you blush like that. I'd wager that you blush..." He reached out and trailed a finger from the hollow of Trent's throat to the center of his chest "...all the way down to here."

Trent knocked his hand away. "Stop it."

"Trenton," Gervase moved in closer, and Trenton backed up till he came up against the wall. "Trenton, why play coy? I know that Anatole can't give you what you want. I can."

"You... you don't know me. You don't know what I want."

"Oh, but I do. You want to be taken. You want to be consumed, and you should be. You were made for submission." Gervase voice was low and intimate. "Let me have you. I promise I'll take you places you never imagined."

He was crowded close to the boy now. He reached down, and Trenton felt his hand cup his fly. Trent couldn't breath. It was as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air, and he was suffocating. He gave a sudden, desperate shove. Gervase hadn't been expecting it, and he stumbled back. Trenton was away in a flash, supple young body slithering past him. He ran up the aisle, almost falling against a table of used paperbacks in the open area of the store.

Anatole, near the register, saw him emerge, and saw his agitation. *Ah, Gervase has not had much success, I think. He won't like that.*

Trenton saw Anatole watching him, and quickly picked a book up off the table and brought it to the front. "I found something I've been looking for."

Anatole examined the book, his eyebrows lifting. "The Care and Raising of Hamsters. You did not tell me you had a pet, Trehn-tonne."

"I'm planning to get one when I get home."

Gervase emerged from the stacks and strolled to the counter. Trenton immediately put Anatole between himself and the Englishman. The older man's expression was bland, but there was a certain tension to his stance that Anatole recognized. Oh, dear, he was determined to have the boy. Anatole would have to try to work on him a bit at the party. If that didn't succeed, well... He and Gervase had discussed that.

The party was at the apartment of one of Anatole's university friends. Trenton was excited, even after his upset with Gervase, because this was his first 'grown up' party. The little place was crowded, noisy, and smoky when they arrived.

The cool thing was how quickly he was accepted. They didn't look down on him as a kid. Some of the guests were only a couple of years older than himself, just starting out at the university. Since he could speak good French and there were a number of people who wanted to practice their English, he had no problem communicating. He scarfed cold cuts from a pretty fair buffet when he had the chance. He was offered wine, and turned it down in favor of a coke, but Anatole teased him about it, and that got the others teasing him about it. Finally he broke down and accepted one glass of wine. He didn't really like the taste of it, but it didn't seem to do him too much damage. He just felt a little more relaxed.

The crowd thinned out, and someone put on some records. There was room now, and Trent couldn't resist dancing a little. He danced with a tiny blonde girl till a very tall brunette girl dragged her away. Trent watched them go, just a little bewildered till he realized that it wasn't just guys who could be interested in their own sex. As that revelation came to him, a dark freshman, a boy, tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to dance. Trent hesitated for a moment, but saw that Anatole was dancing with another man, so he shrugged and agreed. It wasn't like they were doing cheek to cheek.

He danced happily, bobbing and shimmying with the beat, really enjoying himself, till he made a turn and saw Gervase watching him. Suddenly he felt awkward and selfconscious, and he begged off the rest of the song, saying he felt light headed. He went and sat off to one side on a small love seat.

A few moments later, Anatole came and dropped down beside him. "Are you enjoying yourself, Trehn-tonne?"

"Yeah, Tole. Your friends are cool. I like them."

Anatole regarded him. "You like Gervase?"

Trenton picked at the sofa arm, and mumbled. "He's all right."

"He likes you--very, very much. But he seems to think that you do not like him."

"He... he's pushy, Tole."

"A bit forceful, yes. He's very strong willed, but isn't that what you want, Trent? I've listened to you talk about your Clive."

"That's different."

"How so?"

"I... he... Clive knows me. I know him. I feel safe with Clive."

"Oh, but Trehn-tonne, safe is so boring. Why don't you reconsider Gerry? If you like, we could have a mènage."

"A what?"

"Sweet little innocent. A mènage a tróis. Three in a bed."

Trenton almost squeaked. "You mean both of you? At once?"

"Yes. It would be very hot, Trent." He stroked the boy's arm. "We could both have what we want. Gervase is quite virile."

"Tole, I couldn't do that. I couldn't. That man... I'm sorry, I know he's your friend, but he makes me uncomfortable. He looks like he wants to bite me or something."

Anatole laughed. "No, Trehn-tonne. He doesn't want to hurt you. He just wants to fuck you."

Trent shook his head. "No. No, I don't want to."

"You're sure?"

"Tole! Yes, I'm sure. Geez."

Anatole shrugged. "All right, then. But you're missing out."

"I'll live."

"I think he's ready to go. I must say good-bye to him. One moment."

Anatole went to where Gervase was gathering his jacket. "I saw him shaking his head. No luck, eh?"

"Not very adventurous, our Trehn-tonne. I am afraid we will have to resort to subterfuge if you are determined to have him."

Gervase stared back at the boy sprawled on the love seat. Trenton caught his look and looked away, crossing his arms defensively on his chest. Gervase followed the smooth column of his neck down the long torso, and came to rest on the tempting basket displayed by his jeans. "I want him, Anatole."

"Very well, my pet. I'll try not to be long." He gave the older man a kiss and waved him out the door. Gervase gave Trenton a last smoldering look, then was gone.

Trenton heaved a sigh of relief when the professor left. There weren't too many people in the world who had managed to unsettle him that much in such a short period of time. There was something very predatory about Gervase Underhill. He wondered why Anatole didn't seem to be aware of it. It couldn't be because he didn't care, could it?

"Well, Trehn-tonne, I'm sorry you didn't get along with Gervase, but not everyone can be to everyone's taste, I suppose. But you know, I must thank Gervase for one thing, in any case."

"What's that?"

"He made me realize that I am depriving myself of a great deal of pleasure. Trent," he put his arm around the boy, pulling him close. "would you like to try something a little different tonight?"

Suddenly Trent's heart was pounding. *Don't get your hopes up, Trent.* "Like what?"

Anatole rested his chin on Trenton's shoulder, gazing at him. "You don't want Gervase," he murmured. "but would you consider letting me fuck you?"

Trent's mouth went dry, and he swallowed. "I thought you didn't do that."

"I haven't." He stroked Trenton's cheek. "But you, Trehn-tonne, you are enough to make me curious. I think I would like very much to top you, little boy. Would you like that? I think I would like to have you sweet and helpless, blind folded, tied to my bed, to do with as I will."

"Oh, man," Trenton whispered. His eyes were wide. "Do you mean that, Tole?"

"Yes. Could you do that? Could you surrender yourself? Submit yourself? You haven't before, I know, but you want to?"

"Yes. I... yes, Tole."

Anatole smiled gently. "My good boy. Then we will go back to my place, and you will be mastered, Trehn-tonne, I promise you that."