Gavin and Steve are studying identical uni courses. Steve, six foot, blond, blue eyes. Gavin, six foot, dark, green eyes. They go to uni, studied law together. Very sweet. Wide-eyed and innocent, if you like. But Y Gen, not hung up.
One of the older, gay, lecturers, at the law faculty, asked Steve if he’d wait back after a lecture.
“Your, er, mate…”
“Boyfriend,” said Steve. He’d been emboldened by his relationship with. Gavin since they’d started uni.
“Er, yes, of course.”
Steve could see a smile briefly flash across Moriarty’s face, so he felt safe in his declaration.
“He’s not here today?”
“No, he had to go take his mother somewhere.”
“Oh.” Moriarty smiled. “A boy who is kind to his mother, er, very nice. And you two are…”
“Boyfriends,” Steve offered again.”
“So that is with, um, all the implications, is it?”
“I guess,” said Steve. He wasn’t quite sure what Moriarty meant, but he kind of wondered if he did.
“For some time, then?”
“Boyfriends?”
“Er, yes.”
“Since we were at school.”
“At school, you say?”
“Yes.”
Moriarty’s eyebrows raised up. “Oh, well, that must have been very, er, um, you know…“
“What?” said Steve.
“It must have been very life affirming?”
“I guess.”
“Dare, I say, um, exciting.” Moriarty suddenly look a little sheepish, as though he’d asked a question he kind of felt that he shouldn’t.”
“And confusing, all at the same time.”
“But, such discovered, I would assume.”
“Yes, it was that.”
“Did you share it with your school mates, now did you?” Steve thought he meant their relationship status, but somehow, he wasn’t completely sure that’s what he meant.
“Not exactly. A few of the gay kids. But not to everyone, not straight away.”
“So, there were gay kids that knew, and who you knew?”
“Yes.”
“Fascinating,” said Moriarty. “I’d love to chat to you more about it, do you have time?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Steve. “I don’t have any more lectures today.” Steve suddenly had warm feelings towards his lecturer, he wasn’t really sure why exactly.
“Oh, I expect you have other things you want to get done?”
“No, not really,” said Steve. “Not today, as it turns out.”
“Do you want to walk with me to my rooms?”
“Okay,” said Steve.
They walked across the quadrangle
“Are you enjoying the course?”
“Yes.”
“You and your, er, boyfriend, both?”
“Yeah, we both love it.”
“So, you are having your choices confirmed, so to speak?”
“Yes.”
“No regrets?”
“None, so far.”
“It is never good to have regrets.”
They went upstairs to Moriarty’s rooms. It was a large, long room with a first floor balcony at the far end.
“Just make yourself comfortable,” said Moriarty. He disappeared through a door off to the side.
Steve sat in one of the three leather couches. He had a funny feeling about old Moriarty which repelled him and turned him on all at the same time. He wondered if he was going to be proved right in his suspicions. He loved the sense of the impending, it made him feel alive. He loathed the stuffy sameness of life, he got off on the unknown. He loved the thrill of life.
Moriarty reappeared. “Come out onto the balcony, it’s a really nice space. Steve followed his lectured out through the French door.
“It is nice out here,” said Steve.
“It is my favourite spot in the world.”
“I can see why.”
“You can be here, which is essentially amongst it all, but at the same time no one can see you.”
Steve nodded in agreement.
“Do you like the sense of the unknown, er, do you?”
“Is this guy reading my mind, thought Steve. “Yeah, sure I do.”
Moriarty stepped towards a table by the chair and picked up a wooden box. “You’re not, er, too, um, conservative, ah, in your… thinking, are, er, you?”
“No, I don’t think I am.”
“You’d call yourself progressive, with progressive thoughts?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
Moriarty opened the box. “Joint?” The box was filled with rolled joints.
“Ah, well, you are full of surprises,” said Steve.
“I don’t think it is very surprising, not really. The oldest known herb to man.” Moriarty laughed.
“Are you trying to get me stoned.”
“Well, of course, I am.”
Steve must have been taken back with that response.
“Oh, only for your own pleasure. For conversation”
“Okay,” said Steve.
“You will be perfectly safe, don’t worry. I find it relaxes me.”
Steve took a joint from the box, as did Moriarty.
“One each?” said Steve.
“Oh, yes, I find one hits the spot the best,” said Moriarty. “I don’t have any more lecturers today either.”
“Okay,” said Steve.
“Here sit, it’s better if we keep ourselves somewhat out of sight.”
“Oh yes, of course,” said Steve.
They sat in two large Adirondack chairs.
Moriarty produce a lighter from somewhere, lighting Steve’s joint before his own.
They sat and took drags on each of their joints.
“It’s nice here,” said Steve.
“It’s nice that you are here.”
“Nice that I am here?” questioned Steve.
“Yes, it’s nice to have a young man here at my place.”
“But you must spend your whole life with young men. Don’t you?”
“Yes, well, of course I do, that is true. I do spend my life in the company of young men and women. That is my job.”
Stev dragged on his joint, and exhale a cloud of smoke. “So, then, why me?” said Steve.
Moriarty dragged on his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke too. “You’re very handsome. Do you mind me saying that.”
“No,” said Steve.
“And I think you are smart.”
“I hope so,” said Steve. The pot was hitting him, he already started to feel kind of stoned.
“I think you are. I think you will do well.”
“I want to do well.”
“With, or without, my help,” said Moriarty.
“Your help?” questioned Steve.
Moriarty puffed on his joint once more. “Well, you know, it is my job to help my students.”
Steve exhaled a cloud of smoke. He coughed. He coughed again.
“Would you like some water?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I have a gay friend…”
“A gay friend?” asked Steve.
“Malcolm and I have been, friends for many years.”
“An old friend?”
“Yes. He says if you don’t cough, you don’t get off.”
“That’s funny,” said Steve.
“And we all want to get off,” said Moriarty. He laughed, as though the laugh nullified what he’d just said into some sort of harmless quip.
Stever was feeling quite stone by this point and was feeling kind of turned on by his respected lecturer’s attention. Was he flirting with me, thought Steve? The thought that such a well respected lecturer would think Steve was sexy enough in which to be interested, in a way turned Steve on. It was nice to be thought of as attractive. The pot was making him feel attractive. Probably worse, the pot was making him horny.
“I should get us some drinks. What would you like?”
“Oh, um…”
“Look at you,” said Moriarty. I knew those beautiful blue eyes would be even more enchanting stoned.”
“You think I have beautiful blue eyes,” said Steve.
“Oh, you must have heard that before, surely?”
“Um,” said Steve.
“With those eyes?”
“Maybe,” said Steve.
“Surely, Gavin has told you that?”
“Yes, he has.”
“When he is looking into them.”
“Yes,” said Steve.
“So, drinks?”
“Um? Er?”
Moriarty laughed. “Well, would you care fore, um, just water? Or would you like some coffee? Or tea. I can do tea? Or would you like a beer, or a wine? I have both. I’m thinking coffee.”
“Yes, I would like coffee too,” slurred Steve.
“Here, have another joint while I get the coffee.”
“Oh sir, I believe you are trying to get me stoned.
“Oh yes, I am,” said Moriarty. “I didn’t think it was a secret. But don’t let it frighten you. You are perfectly safe.”
Steve took another joint from the box. So did Moriarty. He lit Steve’s first again, then his. After that, he disappeared through another door, on the opposite wall.
Steve sat back in his Adirondack chair and puffed on his joint. He kind of liked to feeling of being special boy to the teacher, as stupid as that may sound, but it was true. It took him back years to when it had happened before, in high school and he liked it then, and it bought back those memories now. He puffed on the joint some more. Yeah, sure, okay, it made him feel horny. Pot made him feel horny. Here he was in his
“Well, I just get the feeling you are open and receptive to new experiences,” said Moriarty. “Just from my interactions with you.”
“Do you want to have sex with me?” asked Steve.
“You see, you are open to new experiences, like I said,” said Moriarty. “But no, I don’t want to have sex with you, as such.”
“Oh,” said Steve. “As such?”
“No,” said Moriarty.
“But there has to be a motive here, surely?”
“Oh well yes. Yes, there is a motive. Yes there is.”
Moriarty picked up the joint box, flipping it open he offered Stever another joint. Steve took another joints, as did Moriarty. He lit Steve’s joint first again, before he lit his own.
They both sat and smoked their joints.
“Okay, let’s hear it,” said Steve
“Let’s hear it?” repeated Moriarty.
“The yet undisclosed motive.”
“You and Gavin are, um, very good looking.”
“And?” said Steve.
They held each other’s gaze.
“Well?” said Steve.
“Um.”
“Let’s have it.”
“Um, er.” Moriarty looked away. “I want to watch.”
“You want to watch?”
“You and Gavin.”
“Oh. Okay.” Said Steve.
“I like the idea of watching.”
There was silence. Then Steve said. “Oh. Okay.”
Moriarty offered them cocaine, even the use of his MX5 sports car “for er, um, a double act,” as he put it.
“A double act?” said Steve.
“Yes.”
“The two of us?”
“I could help with university marks. You would have to pass, I can’t pass you if you fail. But if you pass, I can make it so you pass well, if you pass well, I can make it so you did even better. If you get a distinction, I could easily change that to a HD.”
“We’d perform for you?”
"Let me watch and I promise you both a HD, if you get anywhere near it," said Jim breathlessly. "You're both smart boys, you going to score well anyway. But a HD is good to have."
Steve came from a poor, rural family, everything he got he got by going out and grabbing it. He'd smoked too much of the professor's gunga. He was a bit cross-eyed.
Steve spoke to Gavin. Gave him the low down. Gavin was drawn in because Steve was into it.
Fake open fire and animal skins, dim lighting, ethereal decadence. Music. Candles burned, incense perfumed the dark, shadowy world of life in the sky. Trance music fill the air, like drums played like heart beats, a message from afar.
"HD. You just watch. No touching?"
"Oh, my dear no, I only every wanted to watch."
"You promise?" asked Gavin, his voice thick and claggy."
"You have my word," he said. “I’ll just watch from the shadows.”
Moriarty stepped into the shadows.
The drugs the two boys had loaded up on were already hitting them.
Gavin looked over at his out-of-it boyfriend, then looked back at the professor. Gavin snorted through his nose and looked angry, momentarily wild.
Steve lay back against the couch. Gavin reached for the waistband of Steve's 501s. He undid the buttons deftly. Steve objected when Gavin's hand slid into his jocks. Gavin pushed Steve firmly back against the couch and pulled his jocks down to his thick, hairy thighs. Gavin took Steve's soft cock between his lips. Steve moaned. It stiffened up as Gavin sucked it. Steve objected again, weakly. Gavin held Steve's arm firmly. "Just lay back," Gavin whispered, sternly.
"Oh yes," whispered the prof, sounding like Monty Burns. "Very nice. Excellent."
Once he’d sucked his boyfriend up nice and impressively hard, Gavin got on all fours and Steve penetrated him doggy style. Steve fucked him just like that until Gavin shot his load all over the professor’s carpet, moaning and spasming and Steve shot his load deep in Gavin’s arse.
High up in lecturer, Jim's, Docklands apartment, where he just liked to watch, you know. He never did touch. Two gorgeous boys, bookends of blond and brunette, which kept the hormonal elderly lecturer beguiled, until the day he retired, unexpectedly, to his shack, on the surf beach, down the aisle.
The two days, curiously, coincided. Videos he'd made, which even Gavin and Steve didn't know about, were returned with property from a robbery at the apartment and promptly handed to the police. There was talk of an investigation by the University, which never eventuated.
Steve told Constable Ben Wallace that he and Gavin modelled willingly for the films, even though he actually knew nothing about them. The young studly blond Constable Ben Wallace sent to question Steve about the films, ended up spending the rest of the afternoon in Steve’s bed with Steve.
"I've never married," said Professor Jim Moriarty, professor of ethics. "I have no one to leave anything to."
“No one?” asked Steve.
“No.”
“No one in the world?” said Steve.
“No one I care about.”
“Well, really.”
“I like the idea of you as my son.”
“Why me?” asked Steve.
“You remind me of someone from long ago.”
“I do?”
“It is quite uncanny.”
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