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Lestat liked to keep on top of rumors. He was curious and wanted to know about the world around him. Rumors might have been just gossip, sometimes untrue, but he couldn’t help it. He was curious–nosy.
But the latest rumor going around was that another classmate, beautiful and angelic-looking Armand, liked guys. That he gave handjobs. This was intensely important because Lestat was also in the habit of giving handjobs. Keyword being giving. Which he liked to do, no complaints. Even if the other guy always made him swear to never tell. That was fine. But the keyword being giving handjobs was because he did not get handjobs. Excluding his own hand. Masturbation just didn’t count. Guys would come up to him and Lestat would do it. Then that would be that. They wouldn’t look at him again. Lestat was a dirty secret and he did not like that. It felt hollow.
So in theory, if someone did give handjobs then that meant he could have a handjob. He could even give Armand a handjob if he wanted one. Lestat wasn’t against giving them, just tired of the fact that the ratio of getting and receiving was not in his favor. Or maybe it could be a continuous thing. They could set up a deal of sorts.
Armand, however, was not the easiest person to get along with. Teachers always liked to remark how smart Armand was yet he never seemed to care much about his intelligence. Scoring highest in the class wasn’t much for Armand and he would simply nod as if yes, that was to be expected. His notebooks had beautiful sketches all over them, done by him. People would come up to him and ask him to draw them, which Armand always denied. Armand never got along with people exactly. When he had first moved here, people had tried. He was interesting and new. But Armand only ever seemed to talk to the teachers and ignored his classmates.
The teasing began simple. Armand was called a teacher’s pet because wasn’t it weird he only talked to the teachers? Yet ignored everybody his own age. That was how it began. And then it got more creative. Armand was pretty, as pretty as a girl. If he were to try, he could pass as a girl. Something other boys teased him about when Armand stayed quiet. It never boded well for pretty boys. And Armand was small so it seemed an easy target.
Pretty and small Armand apparently liked to bite, something that also became well-known about him. If you pushed Armand too much, he had a nasty habit of lunging and biting. There were rumors there had been talk of suspension but Armand lived with a rich man that paid the school off. Who really knew if that was true but it was fun to gossip about.
So Lestat wondered. How did he go up to Armand and start this conversation? It had to be delicately done because Lestat was sure he could beat Armand in a fair fight but he didn’t want to. His father would complain and complain if he did. At best, maybe congratulate him on winning a fight. But he would complain he had to stop his busy day to give any attention to Lestat.
He had to be careful about how he did this.
Armand sat alone at lunch reading one of his many, people avoided him. Getting Armand alone truly was the easy part. He just had to have a great hook.
“Hello, Armand. I know we haven’t talked much but I saw you reading that book and I was wondering what it’s about?” He smiled and his mother said he had a nice smile. Maybe Armand would think so too. And he’d read online that people liked for their interests to be talked about.
Armand simply looked up, rolled his eyes, and went back to his book. Well, that was annoying. He didn’t even look back at Lestat as he continued with his lunch and flipped a page. This was really rude.
Maybe he just needed to be more direct. Cut to the chase. Armand didn’t like small talk maybe.
“Hey, do you like boys?”
Armand had been midchew when Lestat asked him and he put down his sandwich, eyes glaring as he swallowed. “Do you want a fight?”
Yes, that was to be expected. Nobody said this would be easy but nothing worth it was easy. Lestat had heard that in a show once. At least Armand was looking at him. Putting his hands up, he tried to be as coaxing as possible “I come in peace and I come with a proposition.”
“Is the proposition your dick?”
Lestat looked around to see if anybody had heard and then he turned back to Armand, whispering. “How did you know?”
Armand smiled, sweet and yet it had the edge of a knife. “Because boys either want to pick on me or they want to see if I’ll suck their cock.”
Damn. He hadn’t been thinking big enough. There was the possibility of Armand giving him a blow job? “Well,” Lestat began, leaning in close. “I was interested in the latter.”
“Funny. I’m interested in beating the shit out of you.” Armand pushed his food away to turn to Lestat, glaring. Somehow, despite Armand being so small and pretty, he did come off as intimidating. Like he truly might kick his ass even though Lestat was taller and so most assuredly, Lestat would win because of that.
But Armand angry was kind of hot.
He had to focus, though. If he wanted to get his way then he had to play it cool. Also not getting a fork in his thigh might be for the best. Armand had quickly glanced to the fork on his tray, as if debating bringing that into this.
People were starting to look at them and well, this could be a social murder. Lestat was working very carefully into getting in good with the right people. This wouldn’t work to his favor and so he had to reconsider.
Sitting up, now trying to smile. “Okay, not in the mood. I see it and I respect it,” Lestat said. “But just keep me in mind. I won’t rescind my offer.”
Armand rolled his eyes and went back to his book, the world forgotten. But Lestat would not be. He would make sure of that because if anything, he hated being ignored. Yet any other time he tried to talk to Armand, about anything really, Armand either threatened him or gave him the silent treatment. Classmates tried to warn him against Armand, said he was kind of weird, and they’d heard rumors he was gay. Lestat couldn’t explain that was precisely why he needed to talk to Armand and instead just brushed it off.
But weeks went by and he had nothing to show for it except for some threats that Armand would stick a fork in Lestat’s throat if he bothered him at lunch again. At this point, it was less about getting his dick sucked and more just about winning this battle he’d created in his mind with Armand.
-
Lestat had wanted to be in drama club and his father had denied it, saying acting was an embarrassing hobby that no son of his would parktake in. Of course, even if he’d wanted to be in math club then his father would have said no. Instead, he was in the betterment club which meant cleaning the school once a month. It was about improving respect said the advertisement. But it was just free labor. Making kids clean the school so they could pay custodians less. For Lestat, it was about embarrassment and so it was his secret.
Why Armand was in this club, he didn’t know. But it was a blessed day when they were tasked to cleaning the art room and it’s painted upon desks. It was a blessing to be alone with Armand. It was as if the Lord was smiling down at him. Lestat knew he was charming and he would be charming. He would woo the shit out of Armand Ivanov.
“So…”
“Shut up,” Armand immediately interrupted and kept wiping down the board. “I don’t need to talk to you to do this and I especially don’t want to talk to you.”
“Why are you in this club?” That was an easy question. And now that they were alone, things might be better. He was going to ease into asking him for a blow job. Maybe he had a knack for this if they didn’t have a potential audience around them.
“For the betterment of me. Just like you.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“No. But I had to be in a club and all of the other clubs are filled with too many people.” Who told Armand he had to be in a club, Lestat wondered. If he asked, it wouldn’t be answered. Armand didn’t seem to want to give anything away so easily.
“I wanted to be in the drama club,” Lestat replied, trying sound like it was an off-handed little comment. Simple. Trying to be personable.
“Unsurprising.” Armand finally turned around and pinned Lestat with a look. “Did you just ignore that I don’t want to talk to you? I want to be left alone. I thought I have made that obvious all month.”
“But I need to talk to you.” And then upon a second of introspection: “Or to talk. It’s kind of a problem actually. I can’t just shut up. Especially around someone as handsome as you.”
“Handsome,” Armand snorted. Okay, so he didn’t like handsome. What gut didn’t like handsome? “I’m really swooning over here.”
The more Lestat tried to flirt with Armand, the more he realized he didn’t quite know how to flirt with boys. It seemed easier with girls and though he’d gotten farther with boys, the sex part was just easier. Guys wanted their dicks touched and Lestat was happy to do that. Girls wanted to talk more and wanted to hear nice things before kissing. But how did he try to do this with Armand? What did Armand want? It didn’t seem like Armand was interested and yet this was the only chance Lestat had to get his dick touched. He couldn’t just give up even if Lestat wasn’t all too sure it was just about a blow job anymore.
Continuing to wipe down the desk, he tried again, “If you do like boys, you know, I won’t tell.” He was only met with silence and so Lestat tried once more. “I’ll let you in on a secret, I like boys.” If he could show Armand he was in a safe space then he could maybe make him open up.
Yet surprisingly, Armand started laughing. “Not a secret.”
Lestat gasped. Offended because it was one he tried so hard to keep to himself. School wasn’t the time to be open but he heard university was. But it was his school secret and Armand brushed it aside like it was nothing. “It is a secret!”
“Anybody who knows anything knows you like dick. You’re stupid if you really think nobody knows.”
Lestat had come into this, wanting to discuss the options of handjobs being on the table. Maybe more. He didn’t expect to want to actually fight Armand but it was growing very, very tempting the more Armand denied him. “Well, I’m not the one who has people whispering about me giving out handjobs now am I? You’re the one getting in fights because people know you like dick.”
“I’m getting into fights because people think they can pull shit with me.” Armand finally turned around and Lestat hated how absolutely beautiful he was. It wasn’t just handsome. It was beautiful. Armand was lovely and as annoyed as he was at the gremlin, he wanted Armand to keep looking at him. He wanted to feel his curls, see how they felt around his fingers, and touch his cheeks. How soft was Armand when he seemed so hard and cold? Lestat wanted to know “And you think you can pull shit with me. So if you think I’ll just suck your dick so you can laugh to your friends about it, I’ll make you regret it.”
“That wasn’t why I wanted you to suck my dick!”
Armand ran over and put his hand over his mouth. All Lestat’s mind could think was ‘oh my Lord he is touching me’ even if he probably should have been irritated. “Can you be any louder? There are still teachers in the building, fucking idiot.” This was the most Armand had ever said to him and he seemed more himself. Apparently he had a little potty mouth on him.
Lestat tore his hand off and whispered, though still loud. “I didn’t want to pick on you! Honestly, I didn’t even think about the dick sucking part right away. I just thought maybe I could get my dick touched for once when I am usually the one doing all the dick touching! But now I’m just trying to talk to you and you should be grateful anybody wants to try with you, you ingrate!”
“Do you ever hear yourself?” Armand asked, looking almost shocked. Though Lestat couldn’t guess why. “You really just don’t think about anything you say, do you? Like did you even come up with a plan on how to get me to theoretically jerk you off?”
“Yes!” Lestat huffed. “I was going to go to you and offer a trade.”
“A trade?”
“Yes. I jerked you off and you jerked me off.”
Armand groaned. “You’re an idiot. I wondered if there was some plot, maybe you cooked up some scheme but no. You’re just really stupid and you don’t even know how stupid you are, do you?”
“How is that stupid? It’s a good deal!” And then he realized he should say something about his own intelligence. “I’m not dumb either!”
“You are and no, it’s not a good deal. If I really want that so bad, I can go to Mr. Thomas and he’d just suck my dick.”
Lestat grimaced. “Mr. Thomas? He’s like, 50.”
“I was joking. He was just the first name that popped into my head.” Armand had already gone back to his board and was cleaning it off. Lestat stared at his back, wondering how he possibly knew that because it didn’t seem like a joke. Mr. Thomas? Wasn’t he married? Did Armand suck his dick before? Or did Armand just magically know that he would? It felt like Armand had been blessed with some gift he just didn’t have and that was very, very aggravating.
“I bet you’ve never touched a dick,” Lestat said because now he wondered if reverse psychology would work. And he was annoyed anyway.
“Sure,” Armand said and he wasn’t rising to the bait which was also aggravating. Lestat suddenly did want a fight and he was tired of Armand brushing him off. Calling him stupid and not taking him seriously. Who did he think he was? Lestat remembered his father, the annoyance he always had at Lestat when they shared a space. If Lestat did get in a fight, it would be a speech about what a disappointment he was. His father would not be happy to have to hear about Lestat making trouble at school but right now his father’s disappointment mattered very little. After all, he didn’t have to do much to gain that.
But he had to work so hard to get anything from Armand.
“Have you sucked Mr. Thomas’ dick? Because that’s all you can get? Just some old man who probably doesn’t get it from his wife anymore?” Armand stayed quiet and Lestat kept going. That always was his problem, his mother would tell him. He just kept going. “Who else do you suck because you can’t get anybody your age? I wonder. Don’t you live in a foster home with a bunch of boys? Maybe you just–”
Armand was on him, having pushed him into one of the desks and grabbing his shirt. His eyes were wide, filled with rage. He looked like a little demon and Lestat wanted to see that above him for ages.
“Do not mention the other boys. Don’t you even begin to mention them or I really will kill you.”
It didn’t feel like a threat, more like a promise. And Lestat gulped, feeling himself get hard. Why? Lestat got hard at the weirdest of times. Sexual education said it was a normal part of being a growing boy. But this felt different. Not random but absolutely spurred on by Armand.
And for once, in all of their interactions, Armand seemed to look over Lestat’s face. Take him in and take him seriously. Lestat wanted that as well.
“Why are you doing this?” Armand asked quietly. “Is it really just so I will suck your cock?”
“Yes,” Lestat answered honestly because really, that is what this had begun as. He had just wanted any excuse to get his dick touched because he wondered what it was like. To have someone eager with him and not just him being eager. What if someone wanted to touch his dick? What if somebody wanted to see him in the throes of pleasure? It had felt like Armand could be that.
Yet something changed in Armand’s eyes as he said that and it was there for a moment. Some emotion that Lestat thought he knew. But one he couldn’t quite put to name.
“Okay.” Armand’s tone was quiet and he let go of Lestat’s shirt. “I will.”
It seemed almost too easy. Like Armand was giving in. Or merely accepting something. Something that Lestat wasn’t too sure of. Should he go with him? He wondered as Armand took his hand and pulled him to a room that Armand said nobody would go to. One the teachers used for this very purpose and just how did Armand know that? How?
Lestat felt scared now. Felt like he was being shown a world that he shouldn’t know. A world he wasn’t sure that Armand should either. Yet here was Armand pulling Lestat into it and Lestat didn’t really know if he should be here. It was too late, though. For either of them. Lestat didn’t know if he could pull away from this devil grasping his hand and leading him into hell.
On an old leather couch that had probably been privy to many affairs, seen many horrible things, Lestat sat. And Armand undoing his pants between his legs to take out Lestat’s hard cock to lick. There was no other experience to measure it up to and maybe Armand was bad, maybe he didn’t have the experience he stated he did. But that didn’t seem right because the way that Armand moved as he sucked and licked. How he expertly avoided his teeth and how he breathed. Lestat was inexperienced but he could see an expert, he thought. Using his hands on other boys felt like a bit of fun. But this didn't seem like that at all. It wasn't fun.
It felt like heaven, it felt like like an inferno. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to be like this and Lestat wanted it to end because he was terrified. Why had he pushed for this so much? Tears prickled at his eyes and he thought 'fuck me, why am I crying? Don’t do this in front of Armand! This is what you wanted and you tried for for all these days and now you’re going to cry? Why? You got what you wanted.'
But then he also thought this was not what I wanted. This wasn’t it at all. Armand was going through the motions and nothing about this screamed eager. Nothing about this seemed like Armand even wanted to do this. It wasn’t pity but Lestat felt it. For himself and for Armand.
Lestat didn’t know how he had even released. It had felt good but then it also didn’t. His body felt like a traitor for coming and he wished he hadn’t. Armand swallowed and Lestat found it grotesque. Why had he wanted this?
When Armand pulled away, Lestat scrambled back and pulled up his pants immediately. He felt the tears spill down his cheeks but he didn’t care anymore. He wanted away from this.
“Why are you crying? You got what you wanted.” It sounded mocking and Armand was smiling. Why was he smiling? How could somebody smile after something awful like that?
“Get away from me,” Lestat said as he ran out of the room and when he got home, he ran past everybody. His brothers would laugh at him if they saw him crying and his mother would just ask why he was in the tone that showed she never really cared. He didn’t want anybody to know what had just happened and so he fell into his bed and sobbed.
He felt like he was part of some ugly world now and maybe, that was what Armand had wanted. Maybe Armand got what he wanted instead.