Claimer: Our angst/sex
Warnings: Angst, sex, bits of intermittant shota, etc.
After their first night spent together, their dinners increased slightly in frequency, and Perceval’s grandfather eventually stopped asking why Perceval never returned from his dinners until very late the following day. Perceval’s spirits were so high, he was nearing the point of giddiness on a regular basis, and he scarcely noticed all the world’s imperfections for he was constantly wrapped up in his own bliss and contentment. Algernon had become everything to him, and Perceval did all that he could to please Algernon as much as possible.
Still, occasionally Perceval felt disheartened by how busy Algernon seemed to be on such a regular basis, but in general he found that time spent apart merely encouraged him to make himself all the better for Algernon for their next meeting outside of work. During work hours, Perceval found it incredibly difficult to remain casual with Algernon; every time he even looked at the other such an amorous look came across his features that he was certain someone must have noticed. Even so, everyone had yet to say anything, and Perceval couldn’t be more pleased by how things were progressing. Algernon looked like he would soon be up for another promotion, and Perceval was extremely happy for him. He could definitely put up with their time apart for the sake of Algernon’s goals and ambitions.
Perceval, on the other hand, had been spending less time working while he was at work, and was putting more effort into discreetly watching Algernon and thinking about him constantly. He wasn’t aiming for a promotion, and as long as he could continue to work in the same office as Algernon, Perceval would be content to remain a Lieutenant forever.
His paperwork was, as a result, often neglected and pushed aside only to be done at the last minute. Perceval was just in the process of finishing one of his last minute papers when he noticed that Algernon was putting away some of his files, as if he were readying himself to go somewhere. Perceval furrowed his brow and checked the clock; they still had a while before the end of the day, and he couldn’t think where Algernon would be heading at such a time on a Friday afternoon. Still, it really was none of his business, so Perceval returned his attentions to his paper and busied himself with its completion.
Algernon slowly filed his papers and put his things away; today, he had a meeting with the Commandant, and he got the feeling that, since this was his first meeting since last week, he wasn't going to get out until late that evening, if he did get out before tomorrow morning. He wasn't exactly excited by the prospect, but work was work, and he needed this next promotion. And so, clearing away the last of his things, he rose from his desk, getting the attention of the room.
"I have a meeting with the Commandant now, and I may not return before the end of the day. While I'm gone, Lieutenant Rousseau is in charge, and if you have any questions for me directly, you may leave a note on my desk." He offered his subordinates a smile. "Until tomorrow, then." And with that, he turned and left the room, heading to the Commandant's office with a sigh.
Perceval stood when Algernon stood, and watched attentively, waiting to hear why he was leaving early. At the news of the meeting, and the possibility of Algernon’s late return, Perceval couldn’t repress the pout that made its way to his lips, but bowed cordially to his superior, honored to be left in charge. He bowed again to Algernon as he left, and looked longingly at the door for a long time after Algernon had already disappeared behind it, before at last sitting down and doing his best to go back to his work.
Algernon relished his last few moments of being able to walk properly as he approached the Commandant's door, knocking before entering with his normal subservient smile. "Good afternoon, sir."
The Commandant looked up from his papers as Algernon closed and locked the door behind him, smiling back, looking over Algernon as if he were a piece of particularly desirable property. It would have disturbed Algernon if he hadn't been receiving the look since he was twelve. The only thing that had changed, really, since that time was that they both had aged; Algernon was no longer a child, and though the Commandant had never been young, he now seemed just old to Algernon. His ponytail, thin and mousy, was now more grey than brown, and his skin was wrinkled with stress over the years. His eyes, however, were still the same as they always had been, possessive and haughty and self-assured. Algernon had been too naive to be disturbed by it when he had begun living with the Commandant, and by now, he was used to it. What he was about to do didn't strike him as disturbing in any way, he was only reluctant because he was bored and would rather be with his own possession. Still, what had to be done was what had to be done, and he smiled as the Commandant rose and made his way towards Algernon.
"Hello, my sweet one," the Commandant practically cooed, using the voice he used to use with Algernon when he was still a child. "How are you today?" He ran a hand down Algernon's cheek, caressing him.
"Very good, I'm glad to be here with you," Algernon replied, leaning into the touch. The Commandant was obviously pleased with the answer, just as Algernon knew he would be, as he smiled and nodded, his hand moving to Algernon's chin, gently lifting his face slightly.
"And I'm so glad you're here with me," he replied. "Come, I have just a little bit of work to finish up, and then I'll give you my full attention, all right?" He spoke as if he was speaking to a small child. Algernon complied with a smile and a nod, playing it up. To the Commandant, he would never be anything but a child, so he may as well act like one.
The Commandant led Algernon back to his desk and Algernon sat on the edge when the Commandant motioned, putting his hands between his legs to brace against the desk, letting his shoulders rise as he looked at the Commandant's paperwork over his shoulder. It wasn't a particularly comfortable pose, nor was it the sort of position he would have chosen himself, but he knew what the Commandant liked, and it was his job to please.
The paperwork took ten or fifteen minutes, and Algernon watched as the Commandant carefully filed things away before turning to him. "I'm sorry, my sweet. I'm all done now." He wrapped his arms around Algernon, pulling him back onto the desk before sliding him off the other side and into his lap. Algernon smiled demurely as the Commandant kissed him on the cheek. "I'm all yours now."
Algernon pushed the irony of the statement out of his mind as the Commandant kissed him on the lips, instead responding appropriately. After all, it was going to be a long night.
Perceval finished his work exactly on time, just a few minutes before the time when Algernon would usually dismiss them all, and looked up quickly to Algernon’s desk, as if hoping that he’d somehow returned since the last time Perceval had looked up five minutes before. However, the desk was still empty, and Perceval sighed resignedly, clearing his desk for the evening and getting ready to dismiss everyone in Algernon’s stead.
He watched as the room empted, glaring at all of his subordinates maliciously and lapsing into his old habit of critiquing everything about them brutally. Without Algernon there to distract him, Perceval was filled with spite, and began an internal list of all the details he found unsatisfactory about the men he worked with.
By the time Perceval took his leave, he’d worked himself up into such a foul mood that he was beginning to feel quite miserable. He sulked through the hallways of the building, glaring at subordinates who walked passed him and grimacing as he bowed to each of his superiors. He was just starting to feel even worse when an idea popped into his head; he would go and wait for Algernon’s meeting to be finished! He could wait outside until the Commandant was finished with him, and then surprise Algernon by being there to greet him. It was a good plan, Perceval theorized, as the prospect of seeing Algernon was the only thing that could cheer him up now, and maybe, if he was lucky, after the meeting, perhaps Algernon would suggest they spend some time together. Really, it was quite perfect, and with renewed cheer, Perceval started off in the direction of the Commandant’s office, already unconsciously adjusting the emerald broach—which he’d worn every day since he’d received it from Algernon—in preparation for their meeting.
Algernon inhaled sharply as the Commandant kissed at his neck, pressing deeper inside of him. He was breathing rather heavily; the Commandant hadn't given him much time to recover between rounds one and two. Still, he was thoroughly distracted, as the Commandant was currently torturing him, moving so slowly Algernon thought time must have slowed down. "S-sir--" he choked out, for once not minding doing what was appropriate. If the Commandant didn't speed up soon, he was fairly sure he was going to go crazy.
"Yes, my sweet?" The Commandant's voice was unnaturally sweet for being in the middle of what they were doing. "Would you like something?"
"Please, sir--" Algernon managed, clutching at the chaise beneath him. "Please...faster..." He probably could have phrased his sentences a little more coherently, but he knew that this was what the Commandant wanted, anyway.
"As you wish," the Commandant replied, grasping Algernon's hips and changing his angle slightly before slamming into Algernon, deeper, harder, faster.
Algernon cried out loudly, as was the correct reaction. He wouldn’t be particularly complaining, anyway. This was much better. Still, his hopes of being able to walk correctly the next day were quickly dwindling. So much for spending time with Perceval...he'd have to put it off another day. He couldn't do it with a limp, after all.
Perceval turned the corner and headed towards the set of imposing doors that led to the Commandant’s office, pausing in front of them. He could hear voices from within, and curious, he took a step closer, leaning in to hear a little better. He heard a voice he knew to belong to the Commandant, but could not recognize it; it was unnaturally saccharine, as though the man were codling a child. The sound of it disgusted Perceval and he was compelled to keep listening. A voice that was unmistakably Algernon’s, and yet somehow sounded alien to Perceval replied, sounding strained, desperate, almost, so unlike Algernon that Perceval could barely believe it was him. The pit of his stomach churned as he took another step closer, pressing his ear to the hard wood door and listening intently. He felt guilty for eavesdropping, but for some reason he felt he had to know what was going on, what exactly Algernon and the Commandant talked about during their meetings that always seemed to Perceval to be too frequent to only relate to business.
Perceval heard what Algernon said next, but he could not make sense of it in the context of a meeting, and he heard the Commandant’s reply, husky and still unnatural. He thought he could distinguish the faint sound of the wood of a piece of furniture sliding abruptly across the floor, and he wondered if someone had moved a chair, but the thought was wiped completely from his head as he heard the next sound. Perceval stumbled backwards, desperate to get away from the door as fast as he could, and tripped over his own feet as Algernon’s cry reverberated in his head. Perceval knew what was going on now, and he felt sick to his stomach. Shaking, he reached for the wall to steady himself and covered his mouth with his other hand, shutting his eyes tightly as he ran, as fast as he could, away from the Commandant’s office.
Algernon lay, spent and sticky, limp against the chaise as the Commandant stroked his hair. He took deep breaths, taking advantage of the down time, as he had a feeling he wasn't going to get out before another one or two rounds. His suspicions were confirmed when the Commandant suddenly scooped him up and pressed him against the wall in an impassioned kiss. He dutifully wrapped his legs around the Commandant's waist, hoping that his muscles wouldn't give out after all the earlier exertion. He didn't have much to worry about, for the time being, at least, because the Commandant was pressing him so firmly against the wall, he could feel his shoulder blades bruising against the surface.
From this new angle, Algernon could see the grandfather clock on the opposite side of the room quite well. He hoped that he'd get out by the next hour and a half, but it wasn't seeming likely. He thought wistfully of sleep. Maybe he'd actually be able to get some at some point tonight...though, he was never able to sleep so soundly as when he had Perceval by his side. Alas, life was unfair, and he was reminded of this when he suddenly felt the Commandant's fingers inside of him once again. Moaning appropriately, he returned his attention to the Commandant for the time being.
Somehow Perceval managed in his hysterical state to make it back to the office and throw himself into his chair, burying his head in his arms on the desk and letting his hair cascade down around him, closing out the world. He wished he hadn’t heard any of it; he would have preferred ignorance to knowing the truth. Perceval felt as though his entire reality had crashed down around him and shattered, completely beyond any hope of repair. Without Algernon, without the only person he knew he could tolerate, the only person he had ever, and would ever love, Perceval felt like an empty shell without anything left to live for.
Perceval started to weep bitterly, and wished privately that he could somehow drown in his own tears. Then, at least, he wouldn’t have to face the bleak numbness that threatened to overcome him; he wouldn’t have to see Algernon ever again, he wouldn’t have to hear, over and over again, what he’d heard, and watch what his imagination had invented to go along with it. He felt as though he might vomit from the revulsion rising in him, but he chocked it back, and his tears redoubled as his frame shook with the effort. There was nothing to do now. Algernon didn’t care about him and Perceval knew it; their relationship, Perceval realized now, meant nothing to Algernon, and Algernon, who’d become his life, had never actually cared about him.
Algernon limped down the hall from the Commandant's office around 10:30; after round five, the Commandant had finally been satisfied with him and he had managed to leave. He had whined, saying he needed to go to bed early so he could get some work done the next morning, but of course he couldn't stand up to the Commandant. The Commandant could never say no to him when he whined, and so, in compensation, he had promised Algernon his promotion by the end of next week. Not a bad reward, all in all.
By the time Algernon made it to the exit of the building, he was able to walk fairly normally, and was about to set out to take a nice long shower and go to bed when he remembered some paperwork he needed to finish, especially if he was to be promoted in the near future. Sighing, he headed back towards the office.
He found it slightly strange that, at this hour, it wasn't locked, but he brushed it off, walking inside and heading towards his desk. He had barely taken a few steps, however, when he heard sobbing and realized that he was not alone. He started unnoticeably and turned, looking around to spot none other than Perceval, crumpled over his desk, crying. Algernon was shocked and was immediately hit with a pang of guilt that he had not been able to be there when Perceval had been so upset. Still, he hoped he could make up for it. "Percy," he said softly, moving towards Perceval's desk and putting a hand gently on his hand, "What's happened? What's wrong?"
Perceval hadn’t heard Algernon come into the office, and when he felt a hand only his own, he sat up quickly, startled and somewhat bewildered to find his place of retreat disturbed. Perceval knew it was Algernon before he heard the question, before his teary eyes registered what they were seeing, and he jerked his hand back, hissing softly through his teeth. He blinked away his tears, staring vehemently up at Algernon and grinding his teeth, appalled by the look of concern, of guilt, even, that was slightly perceptible on Algernon’s face. Silently, his tears started again, and Perceval was glad he could no longer clearly make out Algernon’s features. He got to his feet slowly, shaking all over, and set his jaw, grimacing at Algernon.
Perceval felt weak from crying for so long, but in that time, he’d built up his resolve—a wall of concentrated anger which he’d directed entirely at Algernon. Now upon seeing Algernon before him, Perceval could feel nothing but revulsion and loathing coursing through him, and he found it easy to reach up and tear the broach from his cravat roughly, dropping his hand to his side. Perceval straightened to his full height, glaring down at Algernon, and inhaled slowly, smelling the stench of the other man that had saturated Algernon’s clothes and hair. He waited patiently for his tears to stop again, and as they dried on his cheeks, Perceval looked into Algernon’s eyes and lifted his arm, still clutching the broach. His lip quivered, but he held his composure, staring scathingly at Algernon for one last second before flinging his arm down, slamming the broach onto the floor. Perceval waited only to hear the satisfactory sound the emerald made as it smacked, hard against the floor, before pushing past Algernon and heading toward the door.
He reached the knob and his tears started again, full force. He hated Algernon, and he wanted to say it to his face before he left, but when Perceval turned around again, the simple statement escaped his lips and he asked a question instead. “How could you?” It was a beseeching sort of thing to say, completely lacking all the wrath that would have been more appropriate for the situation. Ashamed of himself and his weakness, Perceval turned abruptly and sped from the room. He didn’t want to hear Algernon’s answer; he couldn’t take any more lies.
Algernon stood, completely in a state of shock, even as Perceval stormed out of the room. At first, he was completely at a loss; it seemed as if the interaction that had just happened wasn't real, it had been some sort of illusion. But the broach lying at his feet was a clear indication that it had not been a dream, yet still, Algernon's mind was moving slowly. What had he done to so upset Perceval? He had done nothing...unless...Algernon felt his stomach clench and churn. He must have somehow overheard what had gone on between he and the Commandant. How, Algernon had no idea, but it was the only explanation.
That being discovered, however, Algernon was still completely at a loss. What was he to do? Suddenly, all control had been torn away from him, and he couldn't just let it go. Perceval was the most important tangible thing in this world to him, his most prized possession, and he knew he couldn't just let him go. He needed him, he had grown dependent on him, he loved him. There was nothing else to it, there was no other way.
Trying to push the feeling of loss and despair that was threatening to overpower him, Algernon told himself to think clearly. His plan to win Perceval over in the first place had worked like clockwork, and if he was smart and played his cards right, he'd be able to win him back. Still, even as he stood, leaning against his desk, and thought as hard as he could, he could think of nothing besides the obvious: telling the truth.
The thought frightened him. Never before had he shared his master plan with anyone, everyone around him was always his pawn, just a piece of the puzzle. But now there was Perceval, Perceval who was completely unnecessary to his plot and yet somehow still pivotal to his life. The realization seemed to clear his mind—it was the only way. He had to take Perceval into his confidence, Perceval was too important to lose.
Thus determined, Algernon realized with a sinking feeling how much time he must have lost thinking things over. He would have to either beat Perceval home or find some way to get into his house, and both prospects seemed daunting. Still, he was determined, and pausing only to scoop up the broach, he set off in a run out of the building. He had to set things right.