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Investigative Pursuits

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"Tell me, what do you observe?"

Arthur Doyle propped himself up on his forearms and half-turned to give his lover a look that conveyed volumes on the appropriateness of post-coital exercises on investigative skills. White sheets settled obscenely low on his back, giving the older man ample view of pale, bare flesh.

"I observe," Arthur stated with a crisp bite in his tone, "two naked men, both of whom should be in bed but one of whom is not."

Doctor Joseph Bell chuckled as he poured a quarter-glass of brandy, moving about the room in disregard of, or perhaps in spite of, his complete lack of clothing. "Ah, the tender proclivities of youth," he sighed wistfully.

Doyle snorted. "You're not that old, Professor." Indeed, Doctor Bell's hair had only recently started to show signs of gray.

"Old enough to be your father," Bell retorted, "and certainly old enough that my libido takes a bit more time refreshing than yours." The doctor's sharp eyes held Arthur's. "And, I believe I asked you a question, in case you'd forgot."

The bed dipped slightly as Bell settled next to Arthur with his back against the wooden headboard, gaze fixed on his young pupil.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Must we?" He could think of a much better way to pass the time, failing libido or no.

"A true investigator leaves nothing unnoticed," Bell said, his voice slipping into the tone normally reserved for lectures.

"We're doctors," Doyle protested. He wondered, sometimes, if the professor forgot.

"And what better occupation to hone the techniques of keen observation and diagnosis."

Arthur let out a long sigh. He could tell when he was defeated.

"Besides, this will give you something to do while my libido reconstitutes itself."

He perked up immediately. Turning his head to the side, he carefully studied the half of the room within his field of vision. He was intimately familiar with his professor's bed chamber and he tried to overlay what he saw now with the details remembered from his last few visits. There must be something new, or something changed. The professor surely did not want him to list off everything in the room. Unless he was missing something of significance, but to what....

Arthur's eyes lighted on the stack of books on the professor's writing desk. It was certainly taller. "There are new books on your desk. Three new ones are mixed in that stack over there."

"Good. What else?"

There were few things that felt better than finding the right answer. They'd be getting to one of the other things that felt better shortly.

Sitting up, he rolled over to get a better view of the entire room. He didn't bother to readjust the sheet to cover himself. There was nothing there that the professor hadn't seen, or touched, before and maybe the sight of his burgeoning erection would help speed up that libido.

"You put your watch on the opposite corner of your desk than normal. Your hat's on the chair instead of the rack. The vase of flowers on the window sill is new, as is the painting on the floor beside the door."

He wondered if Bell had purposely arranged the room for this little game. He concentrated, not wanting to miss the tiniest detail.

There was something here he wasn't seeing.

The brandy bottle was moved, but Bell had done that only recently. The door to the wardrobe was open slightly, giving Arthur a limited view inside. "Some of your shirts are missing." There were a number of empty hangers. At the laundry perhaps? The thought nagged him as not quite right and he stared intently at the wardrobe. There, at the bottom....

He turned quickly to face Bell. "Suitcases? You're going away?"

"Just during the recess." Bell obviously meant the words as reassurance but Arthur couldn't help the way his mood instantly dropped. He had hoped.... "A colleague of mine has requested my help in a puzzling matter out in Devonshire."

Arthur carefully hid the twang of hurt that shot through him behind a stoic mask and let his gaze fall down to the wrinkled sheets. He refused to act like a child, especially over such a trifling matter.

"I thought you might be interested in accompanying me."

Arthur's head shot up so fast he risked whiplash. "Truly?"

Bell was smiling at him around the rim of his near-empty glass. "I do understand if you already made arrangements for the recess."

"No!" Arthur answered quickly, as if the offer would disappear if he didn't answer immediately. "I haven't. I can go. I want to go. Thank you."

He was smiling madly, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself. Bell patted his cheek fondly. "No thanks are necessary, my boy. The pleasure shall be mine."

A wicked grin split Arthur's face as he straddled the professor's lap. "Indeed, though I do believe I should thank you."

"My libido..." Bell protested hastily.

"...shall catch up," Arthur finished firmly.

Sliding backwards on the bed, he knelt, using one hand to steady himself while the other guided Dr. Bell's tepid cock towards his mouth. The limp flesh slipped easily between his lips and was swallowed with practiced ease. He let his tongue glide over it, coaxing life back into the still organ.

There was a soft clink as the professor set his glass carefully on the bedside table. Ice rattled, telling him the glass was, perhaps abruptly, drained of its contents. One of the professor's hands carded gently through his hair, neither encouraging nor restraining in its hold.

Arthur bobbed slowly. Bell, he knew, preferred it when he took care in such matters though at times it was difficult not to put more... vehemence into his work. Now, he gave his teacher's cock the same rapt attention as he gave the man's lectures. Details, Dr. Bell often said, were everything. Arthur knew what details were best to please, and which details would frustrate Bell towards breaking the boundaries the professor had set.

He ran his tongue up the bottom of Bell's cock, creating a light trail of pressure, then swirled his tongue around the head and sucked like it was his favorite candy before swallowing it all down again.

The professor never could say he wasn't observant towards the more important matters.

With a modicum of regret, he let the now-hard cock slide from his mouth and sat up. Their eyes met briefly. He let the professor roll him onto his back, smiling as Bell settled heavily on top of him. No preparation was necessary before Bell slid inside of him. His insides were still slick from their previous coupling barely half an hour earlier.

Arthur hummed in pleasure and lifted his legs to give Bell better access.

Despite the professor's protestations of old age, he didn't show any sign of it in bed. There was still plenty of strength in his grip as he lifted Arthur's legs over his shoulders. Bell drove himself into Arthur with ardent fervor, eliciting a growing cacophony of sounds from his young lover. There was obvious gentleness in his caress but also the same fierce determination that seemed to carry Bell through every aspect of his life, whether he was lecturing on the inner workings of the human heart or merely strolling through the campus.

It was too much for Arthur to keep up with. Splaying his hands flat against the headboard, he did his best to push back, to force the older man deeper inside of him.

This was their inexorable connection. When Bell showed favor to another student in class or chided him yet again for overlooking a rather obvious detail, he reminded himself of moments like this, when their flesh melded so tightly together it felt like they would fuse into one.

Bell shifted his grip and panted as he pushed Arthur's legs up until his toes touched the wall. It felt like he was being split in two.

A shudder ripped down along his spine as he cried out and came.

The professor didn't stop. He moaned, closing his eyes as Arthur's insides squeezed tight around him and kept going, moving with a rhythm as constant as the tides. Arthur whimpered, losing himself in the pleasure as he waited, waited for the tell-tale skip in the relentless push-and-pull between his legs, for the moment when the professor's breathing hiked barely an octave higher and his fingers suddenly dug into the soft undersides of his thighs. Those were the only signs the professor gave before he stilled suddenly and released himself into Arthur's waiting flesh.

Slowly, Arthur's legs were lowered back to the bed. He felt his flesh tingle as his body settled back into a more natural position.

The professor pulled away to wipe himself off and passed Arthur a small cloth.

They settled under the covers wordlessly after they were both clean and Bell had doused the lights.

"I trust your youthful urges are satisfied for the night?"

"Indeed, professor."

Arthur smiled and settled himself contentedly in bed next to his mentor.