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"Conrad only has good news," Peter is saying, as the server brings another bottle to their table, and Elias feigns mild interest as he pours himself another glass of wine. Peter goes on: "It's a comfort to me, personally, and should be to you. No one loses, Elias, isn't that wonderful?"
"Oh, yes," Elias says, and swirls his glass as he considers Peter lounging in the chair across from him. "It's wonderful news." News implies 'new', of course, and he's already well aware of everything Conrad Lukas is up to. "Your family always delivers. And I'm not just saying that because of the amount of money you pour into the Institute."
"Honestly, I'm not sure we know how to stop giving you money," Peter says, oblivious to the way Elias is watching him now. "It might be an automatic direct deposit, for all I know."
"They don't consult you?" Elias asks with mild amusement.
Peter is nearly chiding. "Elias, I am foremost in what I do, but you know very well that there's something of a hierarchy yet. Until my father dies, I do what I'm best at, and nothing else."
"Ah, an heir's conundrum." Elias's amusement is growing, despite himself. "Free to do everything but manage the fortune. You poor thing."
Peter rolls his eyes. "I'm not complaining," he makes clear. "I'm happy the way things are."
"I know you are." Peter is nothing if not comfortable with the status quo. "Don't you ever want to try something new, Peter?"
"Like what?" Peter asks, in open sarcasm. "Skydiving?"
"You might take a risk or two beyond the obvious." Elias hates his fascination with the perfect cut of Peter's suit, the angle of his jaw, the fullness of his lips. It's not a singular obsession, but it would be easy to set aside if only Peter wasn't such a tease. "Isn't there anything you've thought of doing in the last few years that isn't fooling around with work of the Lukas sort?"
Peter drinks as he muses on that. "I've thought about making more trouble for you," he admits. "Did you want to make a bet? I'd like that."
It's an intriguing option. "You and your predilections. What could you possibly have to put on the line to interest me?"
"Oh, your own terms," Peter says immediately, unbothered. "I'm certain I'll win this one."
"You haven't even said what this bet is, Peter."
Peter laughs. "I bet you that I can seize control of the revenue stream that enters the Institute within a month's time. How does that work for you?'
Suddenly, it is less intriguing. "And what would you do with such power?" Elias asks, a nasty edge to his tone now.
Peter remains oblivious to the change in Elias's mood. "I haven't decided yet. But I think I can manage it. Do you think so?"
That's less important than his genuine concern of what an open manipulator like Peter Lukas will do if he's got control of Lukas donations to the Institute. He has to find some way to undermine Peter from the very start of this. "And if you fail?"
Peter has to think about that, and Elias is already weary with him. "Then I'll take a risk of your choosing," Peter says, and Elias zeroes in on the expression on his face. It's not a flirtation. Of course it isn't. He is a very clever man in many ways, and denser than the Buried in so many others.
Elias could throttle him.
"It seems like you gain much more out of this than I do," he says, instead of the many other things that leap to mind. "Any risk at all? Whatever I deem best for you?"
"Oh, so you care for my welfare now?" Peter looks genuinely amused. "I thought this might intrigue you so you would stop thinking I was so boring. I can tell you're beginning to think so."
"You don't bore me." Elias's mind races with images he can't afford to entertain. "You're a wild card, Peter, I very much enjoy that."
Peter looks jarred at the phrasing. "What does that mean?"
"You make decisions in a snap," Elias says, and casually takes a sip of wine; Peter's opening his mouth to retort, but Elias goes on: "That makes you interesting to me."
Peter downs more of his drink. "Oh, that's it?" he asks, bemused. "You can't predict me?"
"Something like that." Elias shrugs. "It's not good for you, but it is entertaining to observe."
"I do fine, thank you very much." Peter's in a snit. Good. "Are we agreed, though? You never said."
Elias sticks his hand out. He knows that Peter's father is tight-fisted on the metaphorical key to the vault. There's little chance Peter will get his hands on it. "Shall we?"
Peter shakes his hand in a quick motion. "Sorted. Now what?"
Elias sits back, thoughtful and utterly prepared for the question. "Now we finish this bottle and have a nightcap at my place."
"You're one of the most debauched people I know," Peter says, wryly weary. "It becomes you, maybe."
What sort of phrasing is that? Elias snaps, but remains calm outwardly despite the nasty turn of his mood. "Well, I'm glad you approve," he says, mild with a shade of sarcasm. "You wouldn't like to join me?"
"No, of course I would. Have you got some of the usual on hand?"
Peter does so enjoy smoking with him. He's not the only one. It's one of the more useful habits Elias Bouchard has given him. "Yes, of course."
"Lovely, then," Peter says decisively. "Drink up, Elias! We have a bet to celebrate."
"Of course," Elias says dryly, and downs more of his drink.
The bet goes predictably poorly.
Peter appears at Elias's flat the night the bet ends, and enters without a word to silently sit with an expression that's a hair-trigger away from a self-inflicted eyeroll. Elias resists the urge to laugh, and pours them both a drink before setting one in front of Peter. Peter scowls, but takes up his drink anyway.
"Oh, Peter," Elias says, quite purely amused. "You cut a tragic figure in times like this."
"That's enough." Peter gestures sharply with his free hand. "Come on, what do you want from me?"
"Is that a genuine question?" Elias tilts his head back. "I would really have to think."
"You had a month to think," Peter snipes.
"Are you frightened of what I might say?" Elias asks smoothly. "Of what I might ask of you?"
"Anyone who isn't frightened of you isn't paying attention," Peter says, clearly irritated to have to say so. "I'm not ashamed to say that. It's just logical."
It's nice to hear, anyway. "Kind of you to admit," Elias concedes. "I had one thing in mind. Finish your drink."
"What?" Peter asks, wary.
Elias's tone barely changes, but it's enough to make Peter straighten in his chair. "Finish your drink."
Peter stares at Elias, but he loses that battle of wills, and tips his gaze down as he drinks the entirety of his tumbler of whiskey in a gulp or two. "What," he pronounces.
Elias sets aside his glass, gets to his feet, and crosses to where Peter sits in his chair; as Peter stares up at him, Elias slides his hand up Peter's thigh. Peter looks instantly uncomfortable, and Elias holds his gaze firmly. "You said anything," he whispers. "So are you a man of your word?"
"No," Peter says, attempting to master his voice in the moment and failing. Elias touches his cock through his trousers with one hand, and tilts his chin up tightly with his other. Peter is rigid against his touch. "Elias," he goes on, badly hiding desperation. "You had to understand what I meant."
"I'm afraid I'm going to hold you to this," Elias says, happy to feign an apologetic tone, and pulls his hand away from Peter's trousers, shoving Peter's head back against the chair by the chin. "Come along. Or I will make other arrangements."
Peter is frozen where Elias has him pinned, and doesn't move as Elias yanks his hand away. Elias stares at him, and Peter silently stands; Elias takes him by the wrist and pulls him along with the guidance he needs to the bedroom. Peter tenses in the doorway, and Elias gives one last tug to bring him next to the bed.
"Stay still," Elias suggests, and undoes Peter's tie, calmly folding it and placing it on his desk. His jacket goes next, neatly folded, then his shirt. By now Elias is feather-light touching him, and Peter couldn't possibly stand more rigidly. He's so brittle he could break. Good. He pulls each of Peter's shoes and socks off to set aside, then undoes his trousers to reveal his decently-sized cock. It's a satisfying moment. At fucking last.
Peter barely moves to allow his trousers and pants to be taken off, but he stands naked within moments, and he looks as though he wants to disappear. The good news is, those silly tricks don't work on Elias. Elias gestures for Peter to sit on the bed, and is happy to have Peter watch as he undresses himself with the same fastidious motions.
Elias moves once he's undressed to a box tucked away under his desk, and draws out a length of rope. "Lie down," he tells Peter, whose gaze is close on the rope. He's not moving. "Lie down," Elias repeats.
Peter moves back against the headboard, and Elias moves over him, the first bare skin to bare skin contact between them as Elias leans over him to tie first one wrist in terribly slow motions to the headboard, then the next, leaving him completely vulnerable on the bed. Peter is terrified. It's frankly delicious to see, and Elias is content to simply look on for a moment at the night he's begun to create from Peter's hubris.
"What now?" Peter asks, voice softer than Elias has ever heard it.
"Have you ever craved sex, Peter?" Elias asks, comfortably knelt beside him. "Or are you generally opposed?"
Peter is going pale. "It's not intriguing enough to take the risk."
"Ah, the risk of attachment?" Elias supposes, and Peter nods slightly. "Don't you feel you've formed attachments anyway?"
"To whom?" Peter asks, sarcastic. "You?"
"Of a sort. Don't you think?" He moves his hand onto Peter's cock, and begins to stroke him. "You enjoy my company. I know that."
Peter's lip curls as he tries to push away the sensation. "I don't enjoy company."
"Oh, no, of course not," Elias says, sarcastic. "You merely willingly meet me, engage with me, share details of your life, though you despise being around me."
"Did you want a boyfriend, Elias?" Peter's cock is starting to twitch under Elias's gentle but firm care. Elias laughs. "I don't see what's funny," Peter says tightly.
"I don't do attachment. I do indulge. Haven't you ever wanted to indulge?" Elias takes out some lube and dabs a bit on his hand to more adequately bring Peter's notable cock to its full height. Peter's breaths aren't as even, now, and he's not answering. "I can believe it never occurred to you," Elias goes on, "but what I can't believe is that you don't want this, at some level."
Peter spits it out near instantly. "I don't."
"We'll see about that." He continues to jerk Peter's cock until it's unquestionably hard, and he has so many ideas he's not sure where to start. He supposes there's one important question. "Have you never had sex, Peter?"
Peter is quiet until Elias clears his throat. "No, Elias, I've never bothered."
"Hm," Elias says, more than pleased, and swipes the lube from his hand and from Peter to sink between his legs and wrap his mouth around the tip of his cock. Peter sinks back against the bed audibly, and Elias slowly takes the entirety of his cock into his mouth, into the back of his throat, and comfortably gags until Peter groans.
Good. He starts to suck him off, thorough, his tongue soft against the head of Peter's cock, and Peter's body can't seem to decide whether or not it should go rigid or go slack. He'll give in soon enough.
"Elias," Peter says, a strangled sound, and Elias tilts his head up, Peter's cock still hard and throbbing in his mouth. "Please." He's well aware of what Peter is asking, but it's still fun to pretend. He slips his mouth around the head of Peter's cock again before drawing away less than an inch.
"What would you like, Peter?" Elias asks mildly.
"I can't," Peter pleads. "Please."
"Give me one good reason, Peter. Do you think you're going to fall in love with me?"
Peter stares at him. "I said – "
Elias's fingers tighten on Peter's thigh. "You said you'd do anything I wanted. Tonight, I want you to come at least twice. Or I'll find an alternate option you'll like even less. Do you understand me?"
"Why?" Peter asks abruptly. "Why do you want this from me?"
"Because you're convenient," Elias says without missing a beat. "And tolerable."
"Is that it?" Peter snipes. "Tolerable? Convenient?"
"Something like that. Did you want a love confession?" He decides to shrug that off and continue sucking Peter's cock, gaining a groan as he gets back to work. Within minutes, Peter's making further choked-back sounds, then his cock is throbbing in Elias's mouth and he comes over his tongue. Elias casually swallows and moves back to face Peter, who looks far past devastated.
"Oh, don't be so put out," Elias suggests. "It's better than you thought, isn't it?"
"That's enough." Peter's firmest tone is not very imposing at the moment. "I've done what you wanted."
"Hm, no." Elias spreads his legs with an easy motion, and when Peter resists Elias shoots him a look and does it again, grateful that he's stopped fussing. Elias lubes up his fingers and starts to penetrate him slowly, stretching him, watching his face contort as he tries to manage the sensations without giving a single bit of the torment in his head away. It's silly for him to try, but Peter doesn't understand the full extent of what Elias is capable of.
"It feels nice, doesn't it," Elias whispers, as Peter's arse starts to half-relax around his fingers. "You're wondering what it could feel like if I did more, aren't you?"
"Don't fuck with me, Elias," Peter snaps off, but it's too weak to be worth consideration.
Elias laughs aloud. "I'll fuck you instead," he says, and stretches as far into Peter's arse as he can with his fingers until he supposes he's all ready. He lubes up his cock and presses in, Peter's thighs spread as he sinks into him terribly slowly.
Peter's gritted in every possible way, his wrists twisting in the bonds, and Elias starts to fuck him, far from loving, punishing instead, damning him for making him resort to all of this silliness. Of course it's fun to see Peter suffer, but this could have been so, so much easier.
Peter's tight around him, maybe too tight, and Elias groans. "Relax," he tries. "You'll have a better time of it, you know."
"No," Peter insists. "No, I can't."
Elias takes a moment, fully buried into Peter, to lube up his hand once more to start to stroke Peter's cock again. He'll get him hard. Elias knows how this works by now. It's not his first go.
Elias hits him deep, and Peter gasps, a very un-Peter-like sound, and Elias laughs, short and soft. He strikes him there again, and Peter's cock starts to rise in Elias's grip. "Fantastic," Elias breathes. He has to hold out. Peter is going to come while he's being fucked by Elias. That's exactly how this has to go.
Peter isn't protesting anymore, just gripping the ropes that hold him, and making faint sounds as his cock gets harder under Elias's touch. Elias can't quite describe how aroused he is at the moment – it reminds him faintly of a man he'd 'convinced' into bed in the 1950s – but he's almost coming apart at the edges. Peter's breaths are labored, and he groans, unable to hold it back, a nearly agonized sound. Perfect, absolutely perfect.
Elias can't come yet, and he wills himself to focus on Peter's cock. He jerks it hard, firm, the way he imagines Peter would if he trusted himself enough to think about sex in anything but the abstract, then he hits Peter's prostate again and he comes in a shuddering gasp over Elias's hand. Elias grunts, and his cock throbs with his last effort to stay hard, then one last thrust undoes him as he comes inside of Peter.
Elias still grips Peter's hips, and looks into his face; Peter is attempting a stoic face, but it would be clear to anyone that Elias has clearly won this round, and perhaps most, if not all, others.
"Shower?" Elias asks mildly.
Peter visibly doesn't know what to say, and Elias comfortably unties the ropes to release him. He cleans the come from Peter's stomach, and guides him to the bathroom, pleased beyond measure at how this is progressing.
This has so much promise going forward.
Elias contemplates the ceiling in his office as he ponders through the more useful events of the day. The Watcher's Crown proceeds well. Trouble's brewing, of course, but it would be a rarer thing if it wasn't.
"Mr. Bouchard?" Rosie calls through a crack in the door. "Mr. Lukas is here to visit you."
He doesn't have to ask which Lukas it is. "Let him through."
It's only a moment before Peter's through the door and has firmly shut it behind himself. "I messaged you," he starts.
"Did you?" Elias asks airily.
"Yes, don't pretend otherwise," Peter says, nettled. "We need to have a discussion. I'd prefer to have it somewhere more private, but if this is the only place I can corner you, Elias, I'm happy to air our laundry here."
"Oh, it's private enough." Elias waves that off. "What's bothering you?"
Peter is less than prepared for Elias's approach to this. All the better. "I didn't appreciate what you did the other night."
'Didn't appreciate' is such a hilarious phrasing for it. Elias manages not to smile, faintly or otherwise. "I thought you expressed some interest. No?"
"Elias," Peter hisses. "You're being hideous right now."
"And if I suggest we were to try it again," Elias goes on, "would you be opposed?"
He's completely caught Peter off-guard with that one. "You think I would, after what you did – "
"I think if you let yourself think about it reasonably, Peter, you'd realize what I've given you." Elias raises his eyebrows at Peter. "You know something you didn't before. You know what you can have if you so choose."
"And I should have it with you?" Peter asks, sarcastic.
Elias gestures. "Who else do you trust not to burden you with the idea of company and friendship? Peter. What I did, how I did it, it is exactly as you should have wanted it. No emotion, no bonding. Mere pleasure. And you did feel pleasure. Didn't you?"
Peter looks even more irritated – mainly because Elias has something resembling a point. "I wanted a choice in the matter."
"Oh, you did have a choice," Elias says, dismissive. "I didn't put a gun to your head, did you?"
Peter scoffs. "You know exactly what – "
Elias sighs. "I said I would suggest things you would like much less. And you would have liked them much less, being that you did enjoy what we did somewhat, didn't you? It's just the discomfort of the first time that really got to you, isn't it?"
He's got Peter. He knows it. He would know it even if he didn't Know it. Peter is frozen like prey in this moment, and he knows he won't have Peter in his grip forever, but in this, maybe, he might. It's immensely satisfying. "What do you want?" Peter asks levelly.
"You, maybe," Elias says, thoughtful but breezy. He leaves his desk and flicks the lock on the office door, turning to face Peter. "Don't you think?"
Peter does a quick calculation, and his doubt wins out. "And if I do?"
Oh, he does love the idea of Peter Lukas bent over his desk. It'll be a lovely thing to daydream on in days to come. He offers Peter his hand and pulls him to his feet, comfortable in bringing Peter behind the desk only to calmly undo his belt from behind and pull his trousers and pants down.
"Elias," Peter starts softly, but Elias already has lotion across his fingers.
"Quiet, now," Elias whispers. "You wouldn't want Rosie to hear."
Peter barely makes a sound as Elias fucks him harshly into the desk, the only sound their breathing and the rattling of the desk until Peter makes a choked sound as he comes under the desk. Elias laughs softly, and makes a point of coming inside of Peter with great satisfaction. He withdraws, casually cleaning Peter and the desk up, and pats him on the shoulder. "Did you get what you wanted?" he asks.
Peter is hurriedly doing up his trousers. "You're very clever," he snipes, but it's clear he doesn't even know the answer to the question, which is perfect. Just perfect.
"Drinks on Friday still?" Elias calls after him, and Peter makes a brief sound of assent before he unlocks the door and leaves.
Elias takes a seat at his desk, and sighs as he looks down at his paperwork, still too high on the moment to bother. Sometimes he truly is too debauched to function, if only within moments like this; Peter was right about that much.
Jail would be boring if he wasn't what he was. As it is, he keeps about as busy as he normally would, without all the twiddly paperwork bits. The only trouble is keeping Peter Lukas in line and the Institute in one piece, even with yet another bet ongoing.
Tonight he's resting in his cell with his phone out, and he casually dials a videocall for Peter only to have him answer on the second ring. "Were you waiting for me?" he asks with mild amusement.
"You caught me at the right time," Peter says; these days he looks even more perfectly coiffed and in order, and Elias regrets that it would be so difficult to find an opportunity to wreck him. Of course, there are ways. "What do you want, Elias?"
"I'm bored." Elias contemplates him. "Why don't we play a game?"
Peter knows immediately what's going on, and his expression changes both minutely and utterly. "I'm at the Institute, Elias."
"I know. Isn't it fun?" Elias sighs. "Unless you're really going to be so puritanical. You know what that office has seen."
"Well, people knew better than to walk into your office."
Elias has to laugh at that. "Are you saying people don't respect you?"
"That's not – " Peter scoffs. "All right, what are we doing?"
Better. "Take off your pants and get that phone in a position where I can see you."
"What – where am I supposed to put the phone?" Peter protests.
"Oh, don't complain," Elias chides. "Figure it out."
"So demanding." Peter sets the phone on the desk, so all Elias can see is the familiar ceiling, then Peter's propped the phone up somewhere where his cock is fully visible and his face somewhat distant. "Better?"
"Much," Elias agrees. "I'm going to talk you through this one. If you come in the next two minutes, I win. All right?"
Peter sighs heavily. "What do you win?"
"Just the satisfaction of match point," Elias says, dismissing that with a wave. "Go on. You know where the lotion is."
Peter is visibly long-suffering even from the distance Elias can see his face, and he begins to jerk his cock in a motion far too similar to what Elias has done since this aspect of their relationship has begun, which makes his mouth curl into something similar to a smile. The poor thing has imprinted. "You sit in that desk every day," he says, "and you think of me fucking you on top of it, don't you?"
"Elias," Peter chides in a whisper.
"You made the most beautiful sound when you came that first time," Elias says softly. "Completely overwhelmed. Isn't that true? You love being fucked. You love my cock in your mouth, in your arse, every inch of it, don't you? Just like a Lukas to be a slut."
Peter's fingers tighten on his cock, so Elias goes on. "You hate how hard you come with me, don't you? You come so hard you can't even think, and you're always thinking. You hate feeling so irrational, so animalistic, but the truth is you're just an animal in heat the minute I say the word. You don't even have the excuse of loving me. You just want to fuck. Who are you fucking now, Peter?"
"Elias." Now it comes out as a gasp, and Peter's hips jerk, rattling the phone in its spot.
"Is it someone at the Institute?" Elias persists. "Do you let someone there fuck you? Or are you trying to pretend like you don't want to be fucked so hard that you can't form words? Do you remember that much from before? I'll be out soon, you know. We can get right back to it."
Peter grunts, and Elias manages not to laugh. "If I were there right now," he goes on, "I'd fuck you so hard you'd have to bite your tongue not to beg me for more. I'd fuck you wordless, thoughtless. Wouldn't you like that? You filthy fucking slut."
Peter comes apart in an audible, stifled groan, and comes into the napkin he hurriedly snatches up, visibly shuddering after. Elias casually checks the time. "Oh, look," he says. "I win."
"Peter?" Martin asks from the other end of the call.
"Ta," Elias says, with unbridled amusement, and hangs up.
Men like Peter Lukas always think they're going to win. That's why men like Elias always do.