Early evening, Jericho strolled through the hallways, awaiting the arrival of Monsieur Adam Copeland. He had been fucking him for the past few days. The tall blonde gave quite the blowjob. Smirking, Christopher twirled the Quill pen in his hand.
Luckily enough, he had written Madame Reso a letter stating how important he thought it was to inform her that her son was having a relationship with his music teacher. He was quickly notified Christian was sent away to Matthew’s aunt’s Bastille in the country. After that, he would be sent to a boarding school in South England, never to be heard of again. Of course Monsieur Copeland was heartbroken, and looked for consolation in Christopher’s bed. Jericho laughed. He was a genius. Quite the devil of a genius, but nonetheless brilliant. He was in such a good mood today, wasn’t he?
He wore a red pair of trousers, which were of course hugged close to his body to reveal his plump backside. A black vest that was snug to his pectoral muscles, and an expensive white shirt with gorgeous ruffles. His shoes were black, of course. The leather tips squared and glossy from their usual afternoon polish. His hair was loose on his shoulders, each golden strand perfectly combed and brushed. He opted to have it curled at the ends, broad twists of blonde brushing against his back as he walked. Simply ravishing. Jericho grinned, his hands tied behind him. His shoes tapped against the marble material of the floor, his hand turning the doorknob to his room and pushing it open.
Matthew stood at the window in the room, his curls pulled back into a ponytail. He wore all navy, which looked absolutely stunning on him. The dark blue pants he wore were close-fitted, revealing his curves in all the right places. A coordinating vest was buttoned down his chest, the smoke-gray shirt he wore underneath matching his dark gray leather shoes. The metal buckle shone in the moonlight, sparkling throughout the dimly-lit room. He held a large bottle of champagne and two crystal glasses in one hand, the other rested behind his back. Smirking, he bowed lightly at Christopher, taking a seat in the large velvet chair next to the windowsill.
“I fucked him..”, Matthew arched an eyebrow, his fingers gripping the bottle and pouring the liquor to the brim of each glass, “I have come here to fuck you as well, but first--a celebration...”, the brunette winked as he handed Jericho his glass, gulping down the contains of his own.
Jericho smiled wickedly. Had he? Hmm. The blonde kept his eyes locked on Matthew’s as he swallowed the bubbly liquid, taking a seat in the chair sitting across from the brunette. Crossing his legs, Christopher lifted an eyebrow.
“I cannot attend to your wishes tonight, I have a guest arriving shortly...”, Jericho stated sweetly, placing the fine glass on the table beside him. He didn’t have time for subtleties such as these.
Matthew grinned, “Alas, Monsieur Copeland is preparing to visit my aunt..”, the brunette chuckled as he took a long sip, “He wanted me to tell you that he plans on running away with Christian, and that he’ll always be your friend...”, Matthew almost spit out his drink with amusement, the look on Christopher’s face, classic. He leaned over to slide the letter that Adam had written to Jericho, onto the table. He watched as Christopher’s bright blue gaze perused the letter, before carelessly tossing it to the side.
“So I assume you’re here to reap the award for your achievements..”, Jericho smiled, leaning back in his chair, “But first, a story...”, Christopher smirked, twirling one of his curls against his nail.
“You see, I have this...friend..”, the blonde sighed wistfully, his tone dramatic, “This person has become an utter nuisance around the town, and has turned into a matter of several jokes and cruel banter..”, Christopher looked at Matthew seriously, continuing on with his explanation.
“So, after reasonable consideration, I decided that this person would be my personal puppet, of which I could control and manipulate at whim..”, Jericho paused to laugh softly, “After sending him out to fuck one of the town virgins, he not only succeeded in that task, but yet another...”, the blonde sighed, his voice calm and collected.
“After that person fell in love with one of his assignments, I came to the realization that I was finished with him..”, Christopher licked his lower lip, chortling in laughter, “I ruined his reputation, and I will also ruin his plans to fuck me tonight, because I do not sleep with has-beens...”, Jericho grinned viciously, his final sentence merciless.
Matthew blinked. Jericho had played him all along. The blonde had never even planned on fucking him in the first place. He frowned, quickly getting up from his seat to snarl in Christopher’s face, his hands forcing him down to the chair.
“You fucking bastard..”, Matthew sneered, his grip on the blonde tight, “I’ll give you one last chance to accept my proposal...”, the brunette glared deep into Jericho’s eyes, which sparkled with enjoyment.
“And if I don’t?”, Christopher lifted an eyebrow, his gaze cold and severe. He watched as Matthew glowered down at him, his face fierce and determined.
“Then this means war...”, the brunette growled, studying the blonde’s reaction. Christopher seemingly thought about it for a few seconds, his eyes focused on the brunette’s.
“War it is then..”, Jericho hissed, shoving the brunette off of him as Matthew stumbled towards the door, his dark gaze fuming and irate.
“You are my toy, Matthew..”, Christopher laughed heartlessly, shrugging lightly, “And now that you’re broken, I’ll just go find another...”, his blue eyes winked as he watched Matthew leave, the brunette angrily throwing the half-full bottle of liquor against the wall.
Matthew quickly made his way down to his quarters, snatching his journal and a Quill pen from the drawer and storming out of the blonde’s residence. As soon as he hit the empty streets, tears began to blur his vision. He was nothing. He had no one. He had thrown it all away. Awkwardly stumbling out into the courtyard, he took a seat on a bench.
Sighing tearfully, he opened his journal, skimming through the memoirs before coming to the final blank page. His life was meaningless, and he had nothing to live for. Jeffrey. He frowned. He loved him. But now he was gone forever. Sniffling, the brunette swirled his pen against the page, writing his final words to the younger man.
In shambles by the time he finished, he packed up the journal with shaky hands, tying the soft, light blue ribbon against the leather material. Matt smiled through his tears. Jeffrey’s favorite color. He looked down at his own hands, tainted and stained from his own horrid affairs. He didn’t want to remember any of those lewd memories, only Jeffrey. Closing his eyes miserably, the brunette rested against the wooden bench, sighing deeply. Life no longer had a meaning. At least not to him..