The Freshmen - 37. Chapter 37

 

October 1, 2004

Cambridge, MA

Will

“Marc Sievres?” Grand asked and was clearly shocked. That in and of itself was a rarity.

“Mon Dieu,” Stef said, then sat there with his mouth open. I knew who Marc Sievres was, not because I’d met him, but because I’d spent a lot of time with my father talking about his encounter with him.

“You knew my father?” Fab asked excitedly. “I have studied his research and read his CV, but I do not know him, the man.”

“We knew him intimately,” Stef said.

“There’s a surprise,” I said sarcastically, getting a grin from Grand and Travis.

Stef ignored me. “What is most amusing is that after he slept with Bradley, he rated all of us on our sexual expertise.”

“Like I just did?” he asked and seemed happy to have that in common with his father.

“Just like you did,” Grand said. “And as I remember, your assessment of Stefan and me was almost what he said, verbatim.”

“He would have been proud of you,” Stef said, which was pretty funny based on the context of our conversation.

“Was he bisexual?” Fab asked.

“I would say that he was mostly gay,” Stef observed. “He seemed to have an occasional craving to be with a woman, but it was rare.”

“I guess I was lucky that he had sex with my mother when he did,” Fab said. I was completely intrigued because he didn’t seem to have any animosity toward his dead father. The doorbell rang, reminding us that the rest of our crowd was arriving.

“We will continue this conversation after our party,” Stef said. We put aside our serious discussion and just socialized with our group. Scotty sat next to Marie at dinner, and I snickered at her until she flipped me off. Niko and Stef drove the conversation, and as a result I spent most of the time I wasn’t eating laughing. Around 10:00 pm, the dinner ended when Niko told everyone about a party in the basement of Matthews Hall. Grand, Stef, Matt, Wade, Travis, Fab, and I moved into Matt and Wade’s version of the television room at Escorial and grabbed seats. There was a smaller couch so I managed to snag that for Travis and me.

“So where were we?” I asked, to restart our earlier conversation.

Grand started to say something but Stef held up his hand to stop him. “I knew him first, so I get to talk about him first.”

Grand rolled his eyes. “Very well. Press on.”

“I first met your father when I was fourteen,” Stefan said to Fab. “I had just been fucked by a sailor who was very inexperienced and very well endowed. I was in le Jardin des Tuileries with my ass torn open and bleeding, and I knew I could not go home to my mother like that.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because if she found out that I was hustling, she would have taken a huge share of my earnings,” he said. “Marc took me to his apartment, helped me heal, and took care of me.”

“That was a nice thing for him to do,” Travis said.

Stef ignored him and focused on Fab. “Do you want to hear only the good stories or all of the stories?”

Fab swallowed hard as he thought about it. “All of them.” Stef nodded to acknowledge his decision.

“I stayed with Marc for two weeks, and during that time I fell totally in love with him. I had never been in love, so I was starry eyed and blind to the world around me,” Stef said. “Marc helped me heal up, then he trained me to have sex. We would have sex at least four times a day. It was glorious. I was in heaven.”

“I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming here,” I said nervously. I could feel his pain even now.

“I thought he loved me, but he did not,” Stef said. “To him, I was just raw material. He trained me to be a good lover so he could pimp me out.”

“I am sorry,” Fab said, and got up and walked over to Stef’s chair then stooped down and hugged him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Stef said, and patted his cheek in an affectionate way. Fab went back to his seat. “I said some unkind words to him then left, wandering around Paris, trying to heal the pain of being manipulated and rejected. I ultimately recognized that he had done me a favor by training me, and that his tutelage would last me my entire life.”

“That’s a pretty profound thought coming from a 14-year-old hustler,” Wade observed. Stef smiled at him to thank him.

“I went back to his apartment and when he opened the door he was enraged. I told him that I was sorry for what I had said. I told him that it was my fault that I was so naïve and stupid,” Stef said. “From that moment, we became very close friends.”

“You were totally screwed over,” I said. “Why did you go back there?”

“Because I really had nowhere else to go,” he said, and wiped a tear out of his eye. “He helped me get a steady stream of men, and I got better and better at sex. Sometimes he would pay me to stay at his apartment and train a new boy. But we were never able to see eye to eye on things.”

“What things?” Fab asked.

“For Marc, sex was a release, and a business. He was a mercenary, and I never was,” Stef said. Then he got a twinkle in his eye. “One of the boys I had trained was named Henri, and he hooked up with JP in Paris’s most notorious cruising tunnel.”

“I was merely strolling through there to get back to the Tuileries Gardens,” Grand said.

“Right,” I said, then we all laughed at him.

He ignored me and took the floor. “I met Marc when I went to visit Professor Gireaux, a scholar whose work I used extensively during my dissertation. Marc was his assistant.”

“So your relationship with him was professional?” I asked, which got snickers from everyone.

“It was personal and professional,” Grand answered. We stared at him until he relented. “We exchanged blow jobs.” That was too funny.

“And was it a good blow job?” Fab asked. Grand gave him a dour look.

“Yes,” he said grumpily. “It was a few days later when I went through that tunnel; I discovered a large group of men watching Marc fuck Stefan’s friend, Henri.”

“And did you just watch then?” Matt asked.

“Not only did I watch them, I got another blow job,” Grand said, his tone a little cockier now. He was so funny.

“After I got to the US, I called Marc in Paris to tell him that I had made it here safely,” Stef said. “I told him that I had met JP and he told me that JP was a good person, someone I could trust.”

“And he still is,” I said, smiling at Grand. He smiled back at me shyly.

“My relationship with Marc had evolved into a friendship that lasted until he died in April of 1985,” Stef said in a philosophical way.

“When I went to Paris in 1968, there was a revolution in progress. That was when I angered the government at Nanterre, and they issued an arrest warrant for me,” Grand said. “Marc hurried over to my hotel room to warn me and helped me escape from the police.”

“It’s hard to see you as a fugitive from the law,” Travis said playfully.

“I have had my moments,” Grand said. “Marc let me stay at his apartment; he and a friend disguised me as a woman.”

“I’ll bet you looked hot,” Matt said, and leered at him, which was hilarious. I studied Grand’s face; his features were feminine enough that he probably pulled that off well.

“I did,” Grand agreed, getting smiles from the rest of us. “While I was staying in his apartment, we had sex many times. He was a very accomplished lover. I remember that he was different in that he made it last a long time, and that just turbocharged my orgasms.”

“My father said the same thing about him,” I said. Fab looked at me. “Dad went over to Paris for his eighteenth birthday. Marc agreed to show him around the Sorbonne, then ultimately led him back to his apartment.”

“He seduced your father much like I did?” Fab asked with a smile.

“No, he sexually assaulted my father,” I said.

“I am not sure that you could classify it as assault,” Stef said. “We should probably get your father’s perspective on this.” That pissed me off, because he was almost saying that I was lying.

“Dad told me about this after I was assaulted,” I said to Stef firmly. “He shared his story to try to help me grapple with what happened to me.”

“Did he rape your father?” Fab asked, horrified.

“He came on really strong and knocked my father down onto a couch, then he rubbed his body sensually against Dad,” I said. “Dad told him ‘no’ repeatedly, but Marc wouldn’t listen. My father ultimately gave into the stimulation, and he said that while the sex was really good, he felt violated and it took him a while to grapple with it.”

“I am sorry,” Fab said.

“Dude, I don’t want you to take responsibility for what your father did any more than I’m willing to take responsibility for my dad’s actions,” I said.

“That is probably a wise approach,” Grand said, making me smile.

“His partner at the time was Robbie,” I said. “Dad said he felt the worst about betraying Robbie, but Robbie forgave him. I remember one night Dad was all uptight because somehow Marc’s name had come up and he was worried that reminding Robbie of that incident would piss Robbie off. Robbie just chuckled and said he wished he could thank Marc for teaching Dad to make sex last.”

“So all is well that ends well,” Stef pronounced.

“That is not how it is with assault,” I said to him. “Just because it didn’t ruin Dad’s life or his relationship with Robbie didn’t make it any less painful for him.” He was irritating me by trying to blow this whole thing off, and that was bullshit.

“That is very true,” Grand said, to stop Stef from trying to come up with more reasons to excuse what Marc had done.

“I want to thank you all for sharing your stories about him,” Fab said. “I feel like, for the first time, I know what he was like.”

“Did it bother you to hear the rougher parts?” Wade asked.

Fab shook his head. “We are all flawed. It is actually good to know that he was not perfect.” He yawned, reminding all of us how tired we were.

“We can have you driven back to campus or you can stay here,” Wade offered.

Fab smiled. “I am trying to decide which couple I want to sleep with.” He was so cocky, assuming it was truly his choice, that I decided that it probably was.

“He can stay with us,” Travis said quietly into my ear.

“Wait a second,” I said, as I watched Matt and Wade whispering.

“You can hang out with us,” Matt finally said. Wade blushed.

“We expect a full review at breakfast,” I said, then used that as an exit line. We didn’t say anything until we got back to our room. “I’ll bet that you are the one who would have appreciated Marc the most.”

“Me?” Travis asked, annoyed. “Why the fuck would I have enjoyed him the most?”

“Because he taught Dad and Robbie to really take their time when they had sex, and that really improved how satisfying it was. You do that instinctively,” I said, smiling at him.

“Whatever,” he said. “It seems like all these guys had someone to guide them, to help them be a better lover. Marc did that for Stef.”

“He did,” I agreed. “He helped my father out too, but the man who really taught him how to be a good lover was Armand de Guipry.”

“Who’s he?” he asked. I pulled out my laptop and did a Google search and found some pinup pictures of him when he was a teen model. “Holy fuck. He was hot!”

“He was,” I agreed. “Jeff Grimes was the dude who trained me.”

“And you were my sexual sensei,” Travis said lovingly. Our lips met, then we made love. Having sex with him was so much better than anything I had ever experienced. It was surreal.

We were lying in bed enjoying the afterglow, snuggled up together when I chuckled. He looked at me curiously. “This is how Grand must feel.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“When he has a student who does really well, that sense of satisfaction, he must feel just like this,” I teased.

“You’re a dick professor,” Travis said, making both of us laugh. “Can you help me with something?”

“Sure,” I said. “I need to call my dad first though. What did you need help with.”

“I need to work on memorizing my lines for Monday,” he said. “Last Monday was awful because I didn’t have it down, and everyone was pissed at me for all the retakes. The director was all over my ass. I finally got my shit together after that, and then I fit in pretty well with the other actors.”

“I’d be happy to do that,” I said. “It sounds like fun.”

“I know it’s late, but can we work on it for a bit?” he asked. He was stressed about this, similar to how I would have felt if I had a test and I hadn’t studied enough.

“Absolutely,” I said. “Let me knock out this call, then we’ll do it.”

“Awesome,” he said.

I took out my phone and called my father. “Hello,” he said, although it was more of a question.

“Hey,” I said. “We had kind of a freaky night and I wanted to tell you what went down.”

“Okay,” he said nervously.

“Fab’s father was Marc Sievres,” I said.

There was silence on his end for quite a while. “Marc Sievres?”

“Yeah,” I said. “The same guy who assaulted you on your eighteenth birthday.”

“That’s beyond weird,” he said. I heard Jake talking to him in the background, then he put his hand over the phone to respond.

“I hope this didn’t upset you too much,” I said sincerely.

“No, it’s fine,” he said dismissively. “How did Fab handle it?”

“He apologized to me for what his father did to you,” I said. “I told him it was cool.”

“It is,” he said. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“I thought you might want to know about this before Stef gets back tomorrow,” I said, making him laugh.

“Good point,” he said.

“Fab slept with Grand and Stef this afternoon, then he was going to hook up with Matt and Wade tonight,” I said.

“What the fuck?” he asked. “He’s tearing through our family like a wildfire.”

“There’s something about him that makes you just expect him to do that,” I said.

Dad started laughing. “He truly is like Stef.”

“He is,” I said, then told him about Fab’s ratings of all of us sexually. “I’m excited to fuck him with Travis so we can hear Fab’s assessment of him.”

“Fuck you,” Travis said, making me laugh.

“I appreciate your calling me,” Dad said. “You helped me handle this perfectly.”

“I’m glad,” I said. “Let’s talk this week.”

“I can do that,” he said, then we hung up.

“Alright, let’s get to work,” I said to Travis. That prompted us to get up and put on our boxers. “Who’s your character and what’s his deal?”

“So the Drysdales are like one of the richest families in Sunset Valley. The patriarch is Horatio Drysdale, and he’s played by a dude in his 70s. That guy decided to retire, so they’re killing him off in the show,” Travis explained. “I’m playing Carter Drysdale, one of his grandkids. My father in the show is the black sheep of the family and he’s been cut out of the will. Everyone thinks that’s how things are set up, but Horatio changed things. He divided the shares of his company roughly into thirds. Thirty-four percent went to his oldest son, Clyde; a third went to his daughter, Penelope; and the remaining third went to me instead of my father.”

“Playing a dude whose father is a black sheep is no challenge for you at all,” I teased.

“No shit. I’m worried I’ll get pigeon-holed into the stereotypical rich white boy role,” he grumbled, sharing his insecurities with me.

“You are blond and gorgeous,” I said. “Your looks almost demand that you get that kind of part. You hear about actors who ultimately take on a challenge and do something different. You can do the same thing. Play the rich white boy for a while, then when you lose your good looks, you can try to be a troll.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll never be a troll,” he said, being cocky. I couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“So are you the good guy or a villain on this show?” I asked.

“I’m pretty much a complete dick,” he said. “Right now we’re having the initial will reading and the drama that causes.”

“That sounds like fun,” I said, and giggled.

“Then next week, I’ll be trying to seduce Clyde’s wife to try and fuck up their marriage. If they get divorced, she’ll get half of his stock, and that’s enough, combined with mine, to pretty much control the company.”

“That’s 50.33%,” I said. “That would be control.”

“The actors are all pretty stupid. I had to spend time explaining that to them over and over again,” he said, cracking me up.

“How are they going to deal with the fact that you’re only around for a few months? You can’t do this and star in Palisades.”

“The director told me that I’ll ultimately let Clyde buy me out then I’ll wander off,” Travis said.

“When do your episodes air?” I asked.

“Right now we’re only three weeks ahead of airing, but they’re working us like fucking dogs to get back to four weeks,” he said.

“That’s why you only have time to fuck the pizza boy,” I teased.

“That’s why,” he said. “It’s going to make it hard for me to come up here a lot on weekends.”

“If you came up on Friday, I helped you with your lines over the weekend, and we took a couple of breaks to do shit, wouldn’t that work?” I asked.

“It might,” he said. “I was supposed to memorize my lines on the train but I fell asleep instead.”

“Next weekend I’ll be in New York. We’ll go to that party, and I’ll help you out,” I promised.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. He handed me a copy of the script. “I highlighted your lines.”

“You were pretty confident that I’d do this,” I said.

“I’m irresistible,” he said, then pointed at the script. “Start here.”

I started out joking around, but after a few lines he just looked at me firmly, not quite a glare, but close. That was his way of telling me this was important, and not to dick around. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll try to do a decent job of acting.”

“Thanks,” he said. “It makes it easier for me to stay in character.”

We started with his lines for Monday, and we followed a very organized routine. First I’d read all the other characters from the script and then he’d read his lines. We’d go through it again, with me reading the same lines and him reciting his lines but without looking at his script. I’d make notes of what he got wrong and let him know. Then we’d go through it again, taking as many times as we needed to make sure he had it down. We got through the scripts for Monday and Tuesday before it got so late we were exhausted. “Dude, you are really good,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said, grinning shyly. “And thank you for helping me.”

“I know just how you can show me your appreciation,” I said. We ripped off our boxers and made love, then ended up in bed on our sides, staring at each other lovingly. “I am so impressed with how well you get into character.”

“Thanks,” he said, and actually blushed. “I’m really enjoying it, but I’m learning that I have to be prepared or I’ll piss everyone off.”

“That’s probably true with just about any group effort,” I joked.

“I’ve had people help me with this, but no one has ever done it as well as you,” he said. “Hell, you read the lines better than the real actors who are playing those roles.”

I laughed. “Maybe I should be a soap opera star.”

“You could do it,” he said seriously.

“I’m happy with things just like they are,” I said.

 

 

October 2, 2004

Cambridge, MA

Will

Hunger had forced us out of bed, while fatigue was trying to drag me back there. I’d promised I’d help Travis with his lines again. After that, my plan was to take a nap then go back to the Yard and find a party tonight.

“Good morning,” Stef said cheerfully. “Fab, Matt, and Wade have just arrived, so you are not late.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said, as Travis and I took our seats. As soon as I did, my manners kicked in and I stood up again, went over to say hello to Rosa, then returned to my seat.

“Tiffany said to tell you that she has taken the children to some sort of recreational activity,” Stef continued.

“Recreation is good,” I replied, even as I smiled at our assembled group. Except for Grand and Stef, the rest of us looked like shit. We all seemed worn out and/or hungover. “So how was last night?” I asked Fab, Matt, and Wade.

“It was awesome,” Matt said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Wade rolled his eyes and blushed, while Fab just smiled.

“And do you agree?” Stef asked Fab. “We are awaiting your ratings.”

“I had an incredible time,” Fab said, then turned to Matt and Wade. “Thank you for including me.”

“It was our pleasure,” Wade said, getting his normal, polite, composure back. It was like Fab was trying to dodge telling us what his assessment was. Like that would work.

“I was led to believe there would be ratings to share,” Travis said, making Grand chuckle.

“These two are both very skilled lovers,” Fab said.

“Must be all that practice,” I said, focusing on Matt.

“Like you’re a virgin,” Matt responded, conveniently shutting me up.

“I have never been with someone like Matt who could so perfectly choreograph a threesome,” Fab said. “There is sometimes an awkward moment, when someone doesn’t know what to do next, but not with him.”

“Thank you,” Matt said.

“What about Wade?” Stef asked. Wade shook his head and blushed harder.

“Wade starts out a bit nervously and slowly, much like a steam engine, then he gradually builds up his comfort until he is like the TGV trains back in France,” Fab pronounced.

“That’s pretty much you,” Matt said to Wade.

“Great,” Wade grumbled. “I’m like a fucking train.”

“What is better?” I asked. “To be a train, or to pull one?” They laughed at my philosophical joke.

“The way you described Wade is almost the same as you described JP,” Travis said to Fab.

“They are very much alike, but Wade takes a bit longer to warm up,” Fab said, then winked at Wade.

“Actually, Wade gets into it damn fast when it’s just the two of us,” Matt said.

“That is all so very good to know,” Wade said in a snippy way, showing how annoyed he’d become at being the focus of this conversation. That he’d lost his smooth veneer made all of us chuckle. “What are you all planning for today?”

“Nice change of subject,” I said, smirking at him. “We were planning to hang out around here, then head back to campus after dinner to find a party.”

“I will make sure Niko or I let you know where that event is,” Fab said. “I must go back and get some work done.”

“I was planning for us to leave tomorrow morning rather early,” Stef said. We looked at him, nonverbally demanding to know how early he was talking about. “I would think that 6am would be a good time to depart. That will give us time to stop in New York, then make it back to Escorial at a reasonable time.”

“That works,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. We finished breakfast and went back to our room and made love, and that was so awesome we ended up drifting back to sleep. We woke up, got cleaned up, then I went over his lines with him once more.

“You know, I’ve worked with a few people, and no one has helped me get this down as well as you do,” Travis said, referring to memorizing his script.

“I’m glad,” I said. “It’s nice to be useful.”

“Speaking of useful,” Travis said. “Can I get Chris Mendoza’s phone number?”

I stared at him for a couple of seconds until I reined in my jealousy. “Sure,” I said. I pulled out my phone and read it off to him.

“I get bored in the evenings sometimes, and I figured he could show me the good clubs to go to,” Travis said.

“And maybe you’ll get laid, and by a better piece of ass than Paul,” I joked. I was trying not to let the thought of his prancing around at the hottest gay bars in New York drive me crazy, but it wasn’t easy.

“Maybe,” he said. “If I do, I’ll call you and tell you all about it.”

“That’s cool,” I said.

“Besides, you’ve got to keep Fab satisfied, and you’ll probably end up fucking Thor,” he said, exposing that he was dealing with this kind of like I was.

“We’ll see about that,” I said. “I’m taking your advice and trying not to get involved with someone who will decide that if we fool around, we’re in a real relationship.”

“I figure that hunting for twink hookups in a NYC bar is probably pretty low risk as far as developing feelings goes,” he said, cracking me up.

“You never know,” I said.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, then gave me a sweet kiss. “You will always rule my heart.”

“Ditto,” I said, smiling at him.