Primary Characters:	Thomas, Pierre, Martial, Bertrand, Fatia
Rating:	MA
Spoilers:	yes
Warning:	m/m sex, some strong language
Description:	Pierre and Thomas fight, then Pierre bumps into Martial. Martial, as always, has an unsettling effect on Pierre. For a while, things seem to work out, but Martial is a very complicated person. Most of the students at the dorm end up getting hurt before the situation is resolved.

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Thomas walked in to find his brother Pierre flirting with Elodie. To his dismay, Elodie looked happier than she ever did, when he was talking to her. He knew Pierre and he couldn’t believe his brother was serious about Elodie. Not Elodie of all people. Only Thomas knew just how much his brother despised ‘do-gooders’ as he liked to refer to people like Elodie. Personally, he admired Elodie’s commitment to all matters where she could detect a trace of injustice. To be honest, he also knew that it was most likely part of her image, though to say so to Elodie, would have been to hurt her feelings and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

On seeing him, Pierre and Elodie broke apart, a guilty look on the girl’s face. Thomas didn’t quite know what to make of his brother’s expression. There was something – not quite consistent with guilt. As if somehow, Pierre was content, not embarrassed. Content over what? That he’d managed to steal the girl his brother had feelings for? Thomas didn’t want to imagine this brother was that cruel and selfish. He forced the thought out of his mind and put on his smiling unperturbed face.

“Oh, Thomas. I didn’t hear you come in.”

Elodie looked uncomfortable. She rubbed her cheek, as if – no, Pierre wouldn’t have been able to reach her cheek, not unless she bent down to get on a level with his face – No, it was just a gesture of self-consciousness, nothing more.

“I just got back from the store. What’s up?”

“Nothing. We were just talking.”

Incredible. She even sounded guilty. Thomas was forced to face the fact that the girl he was in love with didn’t return his feelings. She loved his brother instead. For some reason, that made Thomas feel uncomfortable and not because he was jealous – though he was – but for some other reason, he couldn’t quite define to himself.

“Yes, you have no idea how – entertaining – Elodie can be. We actually found a few points we have in common. Didn’t we, Elodie?”

“Yes. I was telling Pierre about -”

Her face lit up in a way that made a stab of pain shoot through Thomas. It hurt to see how happy her brief conversation with Pierre made her. She was always cheerful, but she never looked quite that – radiant – when she talked to Thomas.

To Thomas’ surprise, now Pierre finally became animated, after having watched the other two, as if searching for a clue to their reaction.

“Well, that was nice, Elodie, but I need to get going now. Thomas and I have things to take care of. See you later.”

“Yes, I hope – I mean, I have to go too. Bye.”

“Bye now.”

Pierre was even waving in an exagerrated way, a mocking grin on his face. Amazingly, Elodie didn’t seem to notice. She smiled and waved, quite seriously. Thomas felt a touch of anger that his brother apparently found Elodie’s affection for him so amusing. It was all just a joke to him. Why had Pierre ended up this way? Bitter, resentful, sarcastic. When they were children, they had both been more alike. Lighthearted. Casual. Happy. Of course, Thomas knew that Pierre had every reason to be resentful over his situation.

Resignedly, Thomas followed Pierre back to their room. As always, ever since his brother had ended up in the wheelchair, Thomas had felt responsible for him. He’d taken his duties as his brother’s helper and caregiver seriously, to their parents’ relief. Before it had happened, Pierre, as the older brother, had inevitably taken the lead in everything. Even now, it was Pierre who directed their activities, from his wheelchair, with a will of iron. Unless Pierre himself chose to go somewhere alone or involve himself in some activity on his own, Thomas’ place was beside his brother.

Thomas closed the door behind them and threw himself onto his bed, dejectedly.

Pierre sat watching him, that smile still on his lips.

“You seem exhausted. What did you get up to on the way to the store? Or was it on the way back that you suddenly got so tired?”

“I’m just – bored. What – ‘things’ – do we need to ‘take care of’?”

“Oh, that. I just didn’t think it was Elodie’s business what we get up to.”

“No? She seems to care a bit more about what – we – get up to – than you do.”

“Come on, girls like that are always putting their noses into other people’s business. It’s what they do. You can’t get too worked up about that.”

“Really? Then why are you flirting with her?”

“So we’re still having this conversation, then? Alright, listen carefully now, Thomas, because I’m getting fed up with explaining to you. I flirt with her, because it’s good for a laugh. You have to do something not to end up dead from boredom. Like you just said. You’re bored. Why don’t you go and flirt with someone? Elodie, for instance. Or Julie or Fatia – or – what do I know? Bertrand.”

“Bertrand? You’re such an idiot. Shut up.”

“That’s it. I’m going out. With you in that mood, it’s not going to be any fun here anyway.”

“Hey. What about your homework?”

“You do it for me, mom, since you’re so concerned about it. Don’t wait up for me.”

“Wait, Where are you going?”

“Out. I told you that already, little brother. Are you getting deaf? Or senile? All that studying can’t be good for you. Why don’t you go out and screw some girl? Or – if you prefer – play with yourself. That might help improve your memory.”

“Fuck off.”

“I intend to.”

Outside in the corridor, Pierre stopped to consider his next move. What he wanted was to take his own advice and get some sex, but since he obviously wasn’t in any condition to enjoy it, like most other guys his age, it felt too humiliating to even try. He considered going after Elodie again, just for a laugh, as he’d told Thomas. Flirting with her had the double advantage of both winding up Thomas and playing with the ludicrous do-gooder.

His decision was taken from him by the arrival of Martial. He waved cheerfully and ambled up to Pierre.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Not much.”

“Good. Then perhaps you’d like to come with me on a little expedition.”

“What did you have in mind? Wind up that stupid little Julie?”

“Not today, though it’s certainly fun. Almost too easy. Nah. I was thinking more about going to a concert. You and me. How about it?”

“What about this?”

Pierre reluctantly acknowledged the wheelchair he was in.

“I’ll get you in somehow. Don’t worry about it. Come on. Let’s go get some beers first. You’ll see. It will be great.”

They got in the elevator and watched it descend to the ground floor. All the way down, Martial was grinning excitedly at Pierre. There was something about his eyes that made Pierre feel – what exactly? Uncomfortable? That wasn’t it. Not really. It caused odd feelings to stir inside him. In a way, that did make him uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the whole truth. There was more to it than that. Watching Martial in action filled Pierre with mixed emotions. Envy. Identification. Once he’d been like Martial – or could have been if he’d been out of this vile wheelchair.

“What?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s not possible. If you’re thinking, you have to be thinking about something. Cogito ergo sum.”

“Even I know that. I think, therefore I am. Perhaps. Though not much.”

“What?”

“I’m not thinking about much, therefore I’m not much.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course you are. More than most people I know. So don’t say that, ok?”

Pierre stared. Why was Martial getting so worked up? At least it was on his account, not Elodie’s or Thomas. Pierre had never managed to find out exactly who, if anyone, Martial was in love with. Martial, unlike his neighbours on the same floor, always had his share of females in his life. He was constantly seen with his arm around some girl. The intensity in the glances they exchanged made Pierre hot and flustered, when he thought about them. Still, he’d never seen the sort of affection he saw reflected in Elodie’s eyes when she was looking at him, or Thomas’ eyes when he was looking at Elodie, or even him.

Maybe Martial didn’t love anyone. Wise of him, if that was so. Love could only make you weak and being weak was the worst thing that could happen to you.

Again, their eyes met and this time, Martial did something which astonished Pierre. He bent over and kissed him on the cheek. Just like that. Pierre couldn’t stop a ridiculous grin from spreading across his face. Unconsciously, he placed his hand on the spot Martial’s lips had just touched.

“What was that for?”

“For tonight. For us going out together. You have no idea what a relief it is to finally get away without any of those swarming females.”

“I thought you liked them?”

Martial shrugged.

“Like? I suppose so. They have their purpose. Everyone needs sex. They’re just so – tiresome. Always demanding to spend time with you, tying you down, wanting reassurances about your feelings. Bla, bla, bla. Why can’t they just take what they get and be satisfied with that? Like I do. It’s good for your health. Keeping it in for too long can make you sick. Are you getting any, my friend?”

Pierre couldn’t believe Martial was asking him that.

“I – you can’t ask me that. It’s none of your -”

“You’re my friend. Shouldn’t I care about your well-being? What about that damned fool Elodie? Why don’t you do her?”

“Thomas’ got a big crush on her.”

“So? That’s his problem, not yours. Just do it. You’ll feel better afterwards.”

“I – can’t, ok? End of discussion.”

“Don’t you fancy women?”

“I – what kind of question is that?”

Martial looked unrepentant. Just before the door to the elevator finally opened, he bent over Pierre and kissed him again, this time on the lips. For a brief moment, Pierre felt Martial’s tongue touch his own and a hot flush of excitement flooded through him. Again, he couldn’t help grinning, but now the doors were open and Martial was walking away, seemingly completely unconcerned.

Hurriedly, Pierre followed, as fast as the wheels would take him.

The evening was a success, at least for Pierre. He loved the music and the flocks of girls crowding around them. Most of them were wearing tight, deep cut little tops which left very little to the imagination. Many of them also wore short skirts, which left most of their legs and thighs bare and at times showed tantalising glimpses of their panties which often showed all of their buttocks as well. Each time Pierre’s eyes fastened on one of those girls, Martial was grinning encouragingly at him.

Somehow, they ended up returning alone together. For some reason, Martial didn’t pick up one of those girls – or two – Pierre had had some hopes of that. Instead, he stayed close to the wheelchair and sometimes helped Pierre over awkward patches of ground. Finally, they were back in the elevator again. As soon as the doors closed behind them, Martial sat down on Pierre’s lap.

“Do you mind?”

Pierre had no time to reply, because like earlier, Martial’s mouth covered his and this time, he continued the exploration longer. To Pierre’s surprise, he felt a definite twitch from a region of his body he had all but given up on. His mounting excitement seeemed to amuse Martial. He moved about a little on Pierre’s lap, letting his ass rub against his friend’s crotch. This so alarmed Pierre that he tensed up and moved back slightly.

“That’s – not cool.”

“Oh? I thought I could feel you enjoying it just fine. What’s the problem?”

“It’s just that – I’m not sure I -”

“I’m sure. You’ll love it. Consider it my treat. Let’s go.”

Martial jumped off Pierre’s lap and when the elevator doors opened, he was standing behind the handles of the wheelchair, looking completely unperturbed. To Pierre’s relief, no one was in the corridor and – the door to his and Thomas’ room was closed. It had to mean he’d really hurt his brother’s feelings, but at the moment, all Pierre felt was a wild excitement. He couldn’t interpret Martial’s words any other way than that he was going to – Not even the fact that until now, Pierre hadn’t been conscious of being attracted to Martial – a guy – could dampen his expectation.

Quickly and silently, Martial steered Pierre’s wheelchair towards his own door, opened it and shoved his friend inside, then closed the door behind them. He turned to face Pierre again and once more bent down to kiss him.

This time, Pierre returned the kiss. He could feel Martial’s arms close around him, lifting him out of the chair and onto the bed. Martial stretched out beside him and began to undress him. Pierre felt self-conscious. Ever since it had happened, he’d been ashamed of his body. Until then, he and Thomas had always been out exercising, working out, keeping fit and strong. Now his body was sadly withered. That didn’t seem to faze Martial at all. The undressing finished, he now proceeded to explore Pierre’s body with his hands and lips.

Pierre lay back and, a happy grin on his face, letting Martial take the lead. Just for a moment. He wanted to take his time, savouring the rest of it. When Martial took off his own clothes, Pierre knew he was going to be watching eagerly. A body like that – he could only imagine how hot Martial would be.

To his amazement, Martial continued his exploration down to Pierre’s crotch. This was the weak point of the whole thing. Until now, Pierre had barely felt himself harden even once, since – he’d ended up in the wheelchair. He was afraid it would be the same now. The thought embarrassed him and he was about to tell Martial to stop, when suddenly he felt Martial’s mouth closing on him. That obliterated all other thoughts from his mind. In any case, his fears weren’t realized, except for one thing. It was over far too quickly.

Martial reappeared by his side, smiling suggestively.

“There. I told you so, didn’t I? Feeling better?”

“Mm. Yes. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s only natural. What our bodies need. Besides, we’re not done yet.”

Pierre was beginning to feel uneasy. What would Martial be after now? He was fully prepared to use his hands to satisfy his – lover – but beyond that, he just wasn’t comfortable. What did he know about – oral sex or –

“What did you have in mind?”

“Don’t sound so nervous. Relax. Trust me. You’ll love this too. Just don’t be prejudiced, ok? I promise it will be ok.”

That didn’t necessarily reassure Pierre, but he was so spellbound by Martial’s smile and eyes and – everything about him, his protests died on his lips. In fact, through the nervousness, he was beginning to feel excited and expectant again.

Martial got up and rummaged around in a drawer, then returned with a small metal can. The sight of this made Pierre’s eyes widen in horror.

“No. Not that. Please. I’ve never -”

“Relax. I told you it would be ok. Look at me, Pierre. Do you trust me?”

He didn’t know what to say. Conflicting emotions battled inside him and in the end he mumbled a reply which could have meant anything.

“I know how to do this. It won’t hurt a bit. You’ll like it, I know you will. It’s great. Trust me.”

Hardly reassured, Pierre nevertheless let Martial flip him over on his face.

“Relax.”

Pierre felt Martial’s hands stroking his neck, moving down his back, across his buttocks and down to his thighs.

“This is no good. You’re too tense. Don’t worry. I can fix that. Hm. Perhaps you could lie on your side?”

“No.”

“Ok. Just wait a minute and I’ll help you relax.”

Martial seemed to be rummaging around in that drawer again, then he came back to the bed and sat down on top of Pierre. To Pierre’s relief, he was still fully dressed. Pierre felt a smooth, cool liquid being rubbed into his shoulders and despite himself, he did relax. Martial rubbed his back, buttocks, even the crack in between, then moved down to the thighs. He repeated his actions a few times.

“Hm, lying like this might not be what you like best. Hold on.”

Martial flipped Pierre right side up again, then kneeled beside him. He grabbed Pierre’s left leg and placed it over his shoulder, then moved on to the next one, grinning seductively. Pierre felt distinctly at a disadvantage, lying like this. Besides, he hated to have his legs moved. In fact, he hated his legs, period.

“This is very popular with girls. You’ll like it too. Honestly. It’s fantastic. I know, because I’ve tried. I mean, being on the receiving end too. It’s super.”

Pierre noted this fact and shelved it in his mind for later consideration. Was Martial’s obsession with women just a a front or was he – bisexual? Something about him suggested he might be. Pierre was beginning to wonder if perhaps it was always just about the sex for Martial. Did he ever feel love? Pierre was hoping he did. Life without love would be – sad. Empty, somehow.

Martial’s expert hands got to work on Pierre and later he had to admit that the whole experience had been – extremely enjoyable, despite a certain soreness. He’d climaxed again, which might or might not have had something to do with the manual stimulation he received from Martial’s hands while he was being penetrated.

Afterwards, Pierre noted, with a trace of disappointment that he didn’t get to see Martial’s naked body at all. Martial had merely unzipped his pants and pulled them down just far enough for convenience.

It was only much later that Pierre began to wonder a little about the presence of the lubricant, the massage oil and the plentiful supply of condoms. Put together, they did hint at rather more than just a guy who was extremely lucky with women.

Pierre had wanted to fall asleep in Martial’s bed, with his arms around him, but as soon as it was over, Martial helped him get dressed and put him back into the wheelchair.

“There. It’s only about two. I need to study. Will Thomas have missed you and wondered where you are?”

“I told him I’d be out until late.”

“Great. Well? Happy?”

“Yes.”

Again, Pierre couldn’t help smiling when he looked into Martial’s eyes.

“Good.”

Once more, Martial bent down and kissed him in such a way, that Pierre again felt aroused. Amazing. He hadn’t felt this way for – he couldn’t even recall the last time. Of course, nothing remotely like this had ever happened to him before. He was hoping Martial would tell him when they’d meet again the next time. Or rather – when they could do this again. He was disappointed. Martial quietly opened the door and glanced in both directions before pushing the wheelchair outside again. Winking at Pierre, he pulled the door closed again behind him without another word.

It suddenly occurred to Pierre that he’d need to go to the bathroom. He could do that on his own and wash his hands too, but – and this was the problem – he couldn’t get into the shower on his own. Thomas would have to help him get undressed and lift him out of the chair into the shower and leave him there, with his soap and shampoo on the floor around him. In fact, Thomas had to turn the shower on and place the shower into his hand before leaving.

There was no way he was going to let Thomas undress him after – what he and Martial had just done. He could imagine there being stains on the inside of his shorts and in any case, it was the thought of what he’d just done that made him the most uncomfortable about facing his brother. He was wondering if he could ask Martial to help him, but the showers were a bit too – public for that sort of intimate help.

With a sigh, he decided to postpone the awkward moment until the following day. He’d go to bed without cleaning up. In a way, he liked to leave the traces of Martial on his skin. It excited him.

When he closed the door behind him, he immediately knew that Thomas was awake, even though the light wasn’t on. He could just sense it. Besides, he could hear that his brother’s breathing wasn’t calm enough for him to be asleep. So Thomas was checking up on him. The thought filled him with unreasonable anger, momentarily forgetting that his brother would be worried about him.

“Ok, Thomas, you can quit faking it. I know you’re awake. Are you checking up on me?”

“I was just worried that you didn’t get back until now. It’s two fifteen. Where have you been?”

“Out. I told you.”

“Why didn’t you come back until this late? Did anything happen to you?”

Pierre’s smile was covered by the darkness, as he recalled in vivid detail what had happened to him. He took care not to let any of the satisfaction spill over into his voice.

“No. Why should it? Nothing ever happens to me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know that you’re always spying on me. Even when I’m flirting with a girl, you’re there checking up on me. Why don’t you get a life?”

Pierre could almost see the hurt look on his brother’s face. Thomas had a way of looking almost like a wounded animal. Those eyes could fill up with an expression of reproach and his mouth looked so vulnerable you almost wanted to slap him, hard, to get rid of the look.

“I’m going to sleep now, Thomas. I suggest you do too. We have a lecture tomorrow, remember?”

“Yes. I remember. Are you really ok, Pierre?”

“Yes. Stop fussing.”

“Ok. I’m just -”

“An old lady. I know. Be quiet, will you.”

It took them both at least another hour to fall asleep and the following morning they had to get up at seven, which didn’t leave them feeling very rested. Thomas noted that Pierre still didn’t want to talk and – more surprisingly – he didn’t want to have a shower. It was far too late to argue about it, so Thomas himself hurried into the showers and by the time he was done, Pierre must have shaved and brushed his teeth already. Pierre was sitting by the door, watching Thomas in a way that was slightly unnerving.

After realizing how Elodie felt about his brother, Thomas had decided to back off. He couldn’t bear to chat with her as if she didn’t mean more to him than one of the others. She didn’t even seem to be overly concerned about his distance. That if nothing else told him how little he had meant to her.

© Tonica