Graduation party

‘Ladies and gentlemen, my son, Dr. Magnus Hemmingway!’ Holden raised his glass and clapped his son on the shoulder. ‘Son, you have done us proud. You’ve risen higher than your parents as a bonafide ten, and you’ve proven that you belong there by graduating medical school at the top of your class! A million opportunities await you out there. Jobs. Women.’ He smiled impishly and laughter rose from the surrounding crowd. ‘Oh, all the beautiful women you’ll have to choose from, dear boy . . . You can have your pick! But most importantly, you get to go out there, as a Hemmingway, the brightest among us, and represent your family and make us proud! To my dear son!’ He took a sip of his champagne, as did everyone else.
Magnus smiled affably, though truth be told he felt somewhat embarrassed. This was not his father’s first drink today, though of course, it’s not every day your son graduates from medical school.
Several people came up to congratulate him. There weren’t that many people present that Magnus knew. Most of them were friends and colleagues of his father’s. There were also, he noted, quite a few beautiful young ladies milling about. No doubt all models, and no doubt all single. His mother’s doing. She may have retired, but she still knew most people worth knowing in the fashion industry. Being a nine never stopped her from standing alongside tens on the catwalk. He looked around but couldn’t see her.
‘So, where are you going for your residency?’ asked one of his father’s colleagues, a young Masculinist Party MP from Stratford-Upon-Avon by the name of Will Standley. He was around Marcus’s age.
‘Oh, I’ve already started it. Did it alongside my studies for the last few months. It’s right here in Oxford.’
‘You started your residency while you were still studying? I’m deeply impressed.’ Will raised his glass. ‘Your father wasn’t exaggerating, it seems.’
Magnus smiled. ‘He rarely does. He’s not an easy man to please.’
‘I can’t imagine how you could fail to please anyone,’ Will said softly. The statement was innocuous enough, but when Magnus caught his eye, the look there spoke volumes. Magnus wondered if Will knew, but then how could he possibly?
He wasn’t hard to look at. An eight, with dark hair and thick brows. Masculine. Rugged. Alpha. Magnus felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach and looked away. This conversation needed to end here. There was no way anything could come of it, not under his father’s very nose.
He was saved by that very man, who called his name just then. ‘Magnus! Come over here for a second, let me introduce you.’
‘Pardon me,’ said Magnus, giving Will a smile and a slight pat on the shoulder. Turn around, walk away, it was nothing.
He walked over to his father, who stood chatting with a man a few years older than Magnus. He had hazel blue eyes, fair skin, and dark brown hair. When Magnus approached, he was met with a winning smile, and he felt his cheeks warm. This man was very attractive, a ten if he ever saw one, and just Magnus’s type. Magnus swallowed.
Holden smiled. ‘There you are. Right. Magnus, I would like to introduce you to Senator Bryce Fitzsimmons.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Magnus and shook the man’s hand.
‘Ah, the man of the hour!’ Bryce shook his hand enthusiastically. ‘I’m thrilled to finally meet the son Holden always goes on about. Your dad’s very proud of you, you know.’
Magnus smiled. ‘I’ve heard much about your accomplishments as well, Senator,’ he said. ‘Seen you on TV. Youngest Senator in the Republic’s history, right?’
Bryce waved his hand dismissively. ‘Oh, the media blows that so much out of proportion. I was only two months younger when I was sworn in than Senator Hern was back in ’46. And, please, call me Bryce.’ He gestured to the woman standing next to him. ‘Allow me to present my wife, Alexa.’
‘Charmed,’ said Magnus and kissed her hand. She was tall, with raven black hair and dark eyes, and very pretty indeed.
She smiled at him. ‘Lovely to meet you.’
As a man should not spend too much time talking to another man’s wife, Magnus turned his attention back to Bryce. ‘You’re from Oxford, aren’t you?’
Bryce nodded. ‘Born and raised. But I went to Cambridge for my Masters in Economics and then I just stayed. It’s nice to come back every once in a while, though. This place never changes.’ He smiled. ‘There’s comfort in that.’
Not long after, Daphne Hemmingway appeared at her son’s side. ‘Come, Magnus. I have someone I need to introduce you to.’ She took him by the arm and he excused himself to follow her. She came to a halt before a young lady with pale blonde hair and green eyes. ‘This is Paula Duval. She is twenty years old and a model. Following in your mum’s footsteps, aren’t you, dear?’ she said, smiling at the girl. ‘Her mother is Trisha Duval. We were great friends. You two should get to know each other.’ She flounced off.
Magnus groaned internally, but kept his most amicable smile in place. ‘How do you do?’
Paula returned his smile. ‘Lovely party.’
‘Yes, so I’m told. I know hardly anybody here.’
The young lady laughed. ‘You’re funny!’
‘Am I?’ Magnus laughed as well, and they both fell silent. ‘Er,’ he said after a while, ‘so, are you enjoying the party?’ It was a superfluous question, as she had just called it lovely.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, and had a sip of her wine, leaving red lipstick traces on the glass.
‘Where are you from?’ he tried next.
‘Northumbria,’ she replied.
‘Right. And you’re a model?’
‘Mhm.’ She smiled and batted her eyelashes. She raised a hand to finger the pearls lining her cleavage. Sweet, sexy, demure. Like a good ten ought to be. He wondered if she were more forthcoming when conversing with her own sex than she was with him. Did men like women like this? He supposed they must.
He knew he ought to ask her to dance or something. He knew how to dance, though he had never much liked doing it. After another several seconds silence, he excused himself to go to the lavatory.
Magnus scaled the stairs to the upstairs one, to get away from the party. It was quieter up here and he breathed a sigh of relief. He liked people, he just preferred them in smaller doses. Just as he reached the lavatory, before he had time to reach for the door, it opened and Will Standley stepped out. ‘Oh! Sorry, I snuck upstairs, both the downstairs ones were occupied.’
‘That’s quite all right,’ said Magnus.
Will stepped aside with a smile. ‘She’s all yours.’
‘Thank you.’ Magnus brushed by him, their shoulders touching by accident, and against his better judgment, he looked up into Will’s brown eyes.
Then they were kissing, and Magnus was backing into the bathroom. Will shut the door behind them and had the sense to lock it. He pressed Magnus up against the sink, slid a hand up under his suit jacket and then down to the waistband of his trousers.
Magnus reversed their positions and wordlessly got to his knees. Will was hard as stone.
‘Fuck . . . I’ve wanted this all evening,’ he murmured, and gasped as Magnus took him into his mouth.
It didn’t take long. It never really did, in Magnus’s experience. These chances were few and far between for him, and he assumed it was the same for the men he shared them with. What they were doing was in a legal grey area; sexual contact with other men wasn’t strictly illegal, but being caught on the receiving end of anal sex could strip a man of his caste, and every other aspect was greatly frowned upon. Being caught in any homosexual act was a career-killer.
Magnus still recalled when he was fourteen and his father had caught him doing just this with his friend and classmate, Jeffrey. Magnus had been punished severely, made to promise never to do it again, and had cut all ties with Jeff.
‘Shit! I’m gonna—’ Will didn’t manage to finish his sentence before his hips bucked and he came in Magnus’s mouth with a grunt.
He was preparing to return the favour when they both heard footsteps outside.
‘Shh!’ said Magnus, putting his finger on Will’s lips. The footsteps passed by the door and continued down the corridor outside. A servant, maybe. Either way, it wasn’t safe to continue.
‘Sorry,’ said Will, and he looked genuinely remorseful. ‘I’ll get you back next time, I promise.’
Magnus didn’t quite believe there would be a next time. There hadn’t been so far, not with anyone. ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘You go first. I’ll clean up and go downstairs in a couple of minutes. Okay?’ Will nodded, then smiled. He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Magnus’s lips. ‘See you later.’ Then he unlocked the door and left.
Magnus spent some time rinsing out his mouth, washing his face, and waiting for the swelling in his pants to go down, before leaving the bathroom. He turned to head back down, when he was suddenly faced with none other than Bryce Fitzsimmons. He looked just as good as he had downstairs half an hour ago. He wore his suit well, filling it out in all the right places.
Bryce looked the young doctor up and down, raising an eyebrow. ‘You’ve got something on your shirt collar.’
Magnus blanched and went back inside the bathroom at once, checking his reflection. And there, on his collar, was unmistakably a drop of semen. He swore, took some toilet paper, and cleaned it off as best he could.
‘You all right in there?’ asked Bryce.
‘Yeah! Fine. It was some hair gel. Thanks for pointing it out.’
Bryce came and stood in the open doorway, meeting Magnus’s eyes in the mirror. ‘Right. Hair gel.’ He wore an amused smirk. ‘Think I know cum when I see it, mate.’
‘Shh!’ said Magnus frantically. ‘Keep your voice down!’
Bryce laughed. ‘There’s no one here but us. And I can keep a secret.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Magnus felt a mix between hope, scepticism, and desire battle it out in the pit of his stomach.
Bryce was still smirking. ‘Yeah.’ He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. ‘I’ll show you how well some time. But not right now.’
Feeling bold, Magnus said, ‘Then when?’
The young senator seemed to consider this for a moment. Then he leaned in, placing his lips next to Magnus’s ear and whispered, ‘Invite me over for a nightcap when the party’s over.’