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Uncouth (Grantaire): April, 1829
If he were as cold in bed as he is the rest of the time, he wouldn't have nearly so many lovers. Though it rather suits him, no one wants to sleep with a boy that distant. There's a temptation in it, for there's passion and madness in him. All one would have to do is wake them, quell the boy who'd rather talk about politics with a kiss and make him lose that torrent of words in desire. He's far too pretty to sleep alone, too upstanding and reserved for anyone to refrain from imagining him on his back, begging to be fucked.
I've seen him leave with too many of them to believe he's a virgin. No man that lovely who's shared so many beds can possibly be innocent. They're all worse idiots than I thought if he is as pure as he looks. His pet doctor is all smiles and kind words; that's proof enough that Julien's not as chaste as he'd like to seem, for no one could be good-humored living with him as Tristan slept by Isolde, with the flaming sword of some god or another to separate them.
And yet Audric is stupid enough to leave Julien, to sleep with Aimery -- or at least to go home with him, and every now and then when he thinks I'm fast asleep, to kiss his illicit lover in the back room of a dingy café. Not that Aimery is without his own charms, but he's nothing next to Julien. Audric doesn't deserve what he has.
Julien has slept with Aimery, I expect, same as he's had all the rest of them. What privilege is that, what right of the rights of man, that allows these boys to kiss him? If all I had to do to have that same right was give some fool speech about voting and kings and similar nonsense, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Who wouldn't with that boy as the prize for recitation? Smart of them to set up a system like that. Égalité, fraternité, and lovely naked men, all in one. Anyone in his right mind would fall to one knee and pledge fealty to the bedamned Republic if he could suck Julien while he was there, draw a little hardness out of his fine marble countenance, destroy that implacable restraint, and listen to him cry out.
Surely he is as passionate naked as he is when he's giving his speeches. A tongue so carefully trained for rhetoric would doubtless make short work of any man's cock. And he does want to give us equality, doesn't he? As we all came from between a woman's thighs, let us all find a little joy between those of a beautiful boy. What gods does he swear to when he comes, or are they gods at all? Calling out to Jean-Jacques, Maximilien, Camille -- he ought to have chosen his multitude of lovers more carefully, to coincide with those doddering idols.
Far better to make him forget his politics for a time. Let the aristocrat turned liberator find himself subjugated for a while. It is not so terrible, Julien, not in the name of pleasure. Égalité be damned; give me a night with him and I'll forbear to share him after with any man, republican, royalist, or dullard. It's maddening to see him go off with this one or that, as if they can give him what he needs. They encourage his politics and leave him for someone else, as if they don't see the tragic waste in leaving him alone at midnight or the persuasion they might effect with enough care.
Ah, but I could do it. A little wine would dull the sharp edges of the words he uses to defend his honor. Let me but kiss him, let him come to my bed and I will hurt him only a very little, only enough to show him that his principles are madness when he calls on unfaithful friends to defend them. I could give him a little doubt, enough to protect him against the flame of those ideals he holds dear, and I would give him such pleasure if only he'd let me.
Does he only fuck the men he trusts, or only trust the men he fucks? Either way, I ought to be on his list, for the boy's own good. They're all too devoted to their Republic and their other loves. He needs someone to remind him what things are, and what things aren't going to be, no matter how lovely he is. They lie to him every night he has to sleep alone. He ought to see that as a betrayal and find someone who'd never leave him for anyone else.
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