The Case Of The Pharmasist's Price

As Price eased onto his back, he was instantly blanketed by Grayson's bigger form. Their bodies touched from chest to groin and Price moaned at the feel of his lover's comforting weight. He marvelled at how carefully Grayson measured his greater strength. He knew the older man was so cautious around him and treated him as if he were made of the most precious and fragile porcelain. He showed his love in his actions as much as his words.

As if reading his mind, Price found Grayson looking deeply into his eyes and a large hand cupped his face.

"Anything we do that does not feel good or pleasurable, or if you get nervous, we stop. This is about pleasure and love."

"I know." Price lifted a hand to cover Grayson's. "I trust you, my love."

Price watched a muscle twitch in Grayson's jaw, the only outward sign of his lover's struggle to stay calm. Price knew Grayson would never betray his trust.

They settled back into gentle kissing and caressing, but their hands quickly grew bolder. Price daringly caught hold of a taut nipple with his lips, teasing it, as Grayson's hands caressed his back in long, slow, languid strokes. They slid still lower, to his buttocks, and cupped them lightly, pulling Price against him. Price gasped as Grayson's erection slide across his stomach and he arched, feeling hot, hard flesh rub against him.

Nibbling at his lover's collarbone, Grayson moved to straddle Price. He ensured that the majority of his weight was on his knees and hands. He possessed the lush lips once more, letting his erection rub against Price's smooth skin in areas that he considered to be non-threatening. He felt a wave of love and relief wash over him at the sound of Price's pleasured sigh and the way the younger man settled under him, turning himself over to Grayson's ministrations.

Groaning as slender fingers began to tease his own peaked nipples, Grayson tried to concentrate on kissing and caressing, determined to ensure Price was consumed with passion and desire. So much so, that he would not fear when it was time to become as one. He reached out and retrieved a jar of oil. Kneeling up, he liberally coated his fingers and the faint scent of lavender permeated the air. He had used this to massage his lover regularly to ensure the younger man associated its aroma with pleasure.

Smiling down at his lover, he slowly, sensuously, let a few drops fall onto Price's flushed chest and Price moaned softly, eyes closing in pleasure, as Grayson began to massage him. Grayson purposely played with the small, pink nipples, knowing they were a particular erogenous zone for his beloved. He massaged over Price's shoulders and down his lover's arms, before indicating his lover should roll over. He felt a surge of love at Price's immediate obedience.

Settling carefully, Grayson continued the massage over the slender back and slowly began moving lower, brushing Price's buttocks. Watching intently, he gauged his lover's level of arousal and when Price began grinding his pelvis into the mattress, he knew his lover was ready to progress. Rolling to his side, Grayson slid an arm under Price's chest and drew him close so they were facing each other.

He lay quiescent as Price's hands caressed his own body, pleased that the younger man was eager to both touch and be touched. He locked gazes with Price and then pulled him close for a long, deep, kiss. Their tongues slowly twined and stroked as their hands tenderly caressed, languidly, sensually. When they broke apart, Grayson could see the desire clearly flaming in Price's verdant eyes. He took a deep, fortifying breath.

Sliding a hand down, Grayson manoeuvred Price's right leg so it lay over his hip. The bigger man then slowly pressed one of his knees forward, between Price's legs, helping keep them parted. In this way he could prepare Price face-to-face and ensure his lover was neither afraid nor hurting. He felt the lithe body shiver in anticipation and excitement, deliberately rocking forward into him.

The older man coated his finger in the oil that sat on the bedside locker. Kissing his lover tenderly, Grayson began to stroke Price's buttocks with his free hand.

"Just another touch, Price, nothing else," he assured. He moved his fingers between the perfect buttocks, parting them a little. Then the oiled finger touched Price's anus. Grayson was careful to ensure the touch remained light, rubbing gentle circles, letting Price get used to being touched by him in his most private place.

"It feels good," Price whispered.

"Just relax and trust me, my love." Grayson kissed the top of Price's head and continued the slow rubbing, occasionally pressing a little harder, but still making no attempt to enter his lover.

"Ready to try one finger?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

Grayson smiled at the determined sound to Price's voice. Then, very slowly, he pressed against the furled opening until it bloomed in invitation and he slowly entered the hot, tight sheath. As his lover's tightness relaxed minutely, Grayson pushed aside the thought of the Count forcing himself on his beautiful lover. This experience would be pleasurable, for both of them, as it should be, as it would always be from this moment on. He pressed fully inside, waited a moment and then began to gently thrust back and forth.

"A second, my love," Grayson whispered. There was a small, pained sound from his lover, but Price immediately looked up at him and the nod ensured the older man pressed the two digits in fully. He waited again, feeling the rippled protestation and his lover's sheath stretched to accommodate him. As the narrow strait relaxed, he stroked in and out.

"I love you, Grayson."

"I love you," he replied, smiling tenderly. "Let me know if this feels good," he added. His long middle finger had found the little nub he had sought, but he had been careful to not brush against it, wanting Price to first be used to his fingers before attempting additional stimulation. Now, he purposely stroked over it. He grinned as Price arched against him, gasping and his hands seizing hold of Grayson's shoulders

"More, please," Price begged.

Grayson complied, gently rubbing the spot, drawing more cries from his lover. Price's whole body shook from the intensity. Grayson could feel his lover's flagging erection grow, nudging against his own engorged organ as Price awkwardly shifted his hips, trying for an instinctive rocking motion. He took this as the time to introduce a third finger. He felt the tight passage spasm slightly and he held still once more, leaning forward to possess Price's lips and suck slowly, sensually, on his lover's tongue until the younger man relaxed once more.

As the lithe body lost its tenseness, Grayson resumed his fingers' slow thrusting, spreading them incrementally to stretch his lover to take something longer and thicker than mere fingers. Apart from the occasional hitch in his breathing Price remained relaxed, taking pleasure from the sensations. Grayson deliberately brushed the little gland again and the younger man arched, groaning, his blood-suffused, rosy shaft jumping and dripping. As Grayson touched the little spot again and again he drew soft cries from Price.

"Grayson...please, inside."

"A few more moments, my love," Grayson whispered against his mate's blond hair. He wanted to ensure Price was as stretched as he could be. He gave a groan of his own as Price shivered against him, his lover's hips now moving smoothly back to meet the older man's thrusting fingers. Satisfied that his lover was prepared enough, Grayson withdrew his fingers.

"Roll onto your other side, my love," he urged.

"Need to see you. Have to see you."

Up until that moment, Grayson had not thought of his lover's need to be able to see him. It would be harder for Price to take him whilst on his back, but it was what the younger man needed and Grayson would deny him nothing to make their union one of joy and pleasure.

"Let me do all the work, precious," he said, kissing the younger man. He urged the lithe legs around his waist and slid a pillow under his lover to help lift Price's hips. He eased himself into position, the burgundy head of his sex pressed tightly against Price's glistening portal. He locked his eyes with his lover's and waited for the nod that granted permission for him to move. He smiled as Price's slender hands framed his face and he was drawn into a loving kiss.

"Love me."

At the gentle command, Grayson pressed forward. There was initial resistance and then the head of his shaft penetrated into tight, searing heat. He groaned his pleasure, remaining immobile at the soft, slightly strained gasp from Price.

"I love you," he said. "Let me in, please. Let me make love with you." Grayson followed his words by gently brushing his lips over his lover's. "I want to give you pleasure, my love," he whispered. Whether it was his words or his actions he did not know, but the crushing tightness around his flesh lessened. He watched Price take a few calming breaths and the tight passage relaxed further. At the silent capitulation, his conquering flesh slid in deeper. There was less resistance as his lover's sheath yielded to the welcome invader. Slowly, incrementally, Grayson persevered until he was finally fully inside his young love and his sac nestled intimately against Price. His sigh of bliss was echoed by Price.

Not wanting to move until he knew Price was ready Grayson slid a hand to the deflated flesh at his lover's groin and began to stroke. It took just a few, firm strokes to have the shaft fill and rise. He bit back a groan as Price's body began to rock back and forth in time with his measured movements. He gave a slow undulation forward. At the pleasured gasp from Price, Grayson repeated the movement.

"Yes, love, just like that, please, Grayson."

The whispered litany encouraged Grayson and he began to undulate a little faster, a little deeper, watching carefully for any signs his lover might be distressed in any way. His speed steadily gained momentum. His thrusts angled to massage Price's sweet spot. The sight of the blond's head rolling from side to side and the sounds of pleasure from kiss-swollen lips threatened to send him over the edge prematurely.

His hand continued to work Price, speeding up as Grayson felt his own imminent release. His lover's hands grasped him tightly and Price's hips now rhythmically rose to meet each of Grayson's downward thrusts. The older man moaned as he lost himself in their rhythm, thrilling at Price's ready acceptance. He could feel the shaft in his hand throb and knew Price felt only pleasure and delight. Each one of his lover's soft cries urged him on, striving to give Price maximum pleasure from their lovemaking.

"Grayson, it's...so...good."

The words were a soft, breathy sound that seemed designed to go straight to Grayson's groin and he groaned at the jolt of heat it produced. He was close and he was certain Price was just as close. He began to falter in his rhythm as he approached his crescendo. His hand was a blur on Price's erection, determined the younger man would spill first.

He threw his head back with a cry as he heard Price wail. Wet heat pulsed over his hand and the sheath surrounding his sensitive flesh contracted with almost brutal force as Price's orgasm engulfed the younger man. Grayson wanted to ensure Price was milked fully, but his own release would no longer be denied. A few short, sharp snaps of his hips and he moaned Price's name as his seed flowed into his lover's channel.

It took Grayson several minutes to regain his wits following the most intense and satisfying orgasm he had ever experienced. He had slid from his lover's haven and briefly mourned the loss of their joining. He glanced down at Price and was elated to see a beatific, sated smile on his lover's face. He claimed the red, kiss-swollen lips.

"I love you, Price," Grayson murmured against his lover's lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Hold me?"

"Of course," Grayson whispered. He enfolded the smaller man in his arms and cradled him tightly to his chest, dropping kisses into the blond's hair and keeping up a soft litany of love and devotion. Finally Price twisted enough to gaze at him.

"Thank you for loving me. Thank you for saving me and for showing me how wonderful making love can be."

"There is no need for thanks," Grayson replied, pulling Price into another kiss. "You are my heart, my soul. I will love you always." He smiled and dropped loving kisses into Price's hair as the blond burrowed tightly against him. As he held the single most precious thing in his life close to his heart, he could not help but think about the one dark cloud on his horizon; the Count who still posed a threat to his lover.

****

The day was busy in the Pharmacy. Both Grayson and Robert were in the front dealing with customers and Price was kept equally occupied providing refilling of pills and potions as the two men shouted through to him. He kept a careful note of how much stock was being used and listed what would need reordering. He smiled as he refilled another jar. Grayson had promised to allow him to work in the shop once the danger the Count posed was removed.

He gave a slight shudder. He knew Mr Holmes and John were working tirelessly in an effort to find reason to have the Count either arrested or deported. Although he could testify about his treatment, it had been decided not to put him through such an ordeal. There was no assurance that bringing a charge would be successful and no one wanted him in the public eye in such a manner. It would have far-reaching consequences for both him and Grayson.

Shaking himself mentally, he resumed his inventory. He and Grayson needed their anonymity. Grayson had been telling people that Price was the only child of old family friends who was recently orphaned and so was learning the business to have a trade and an income. They neither needed nor wanted undue attention. He was content to leave things in the hands of Mr Holmes. Grayson trusted him and, therefore, so did he.

Out in the shop Grayson finished with the customer he was serving and looked up to see the next. He strove to remain calm and act normally as he looked into the face of the man before him. To be this close to the Count allowed him to see cold, pale, grey eyes that seemed to bore into his soul. There were fine lines around the Count's eyes and mouth which was thin and cruel and the thought of an innocent like Price in this man's clutches almost made Grayson retch. Instead he forced his face into blank neutrality.

"How may I assist you?" he asked blandly, determined to keep his loathing out of his voice.

"Are we going to play such a tedious game?"

"Game, sir?" Grayson asked, affecting a tone of bewilderment. From the corner of his eye, he saw Robert reach beneath the counter. He kept a pair of sturdy sticks underneath the counter as a safety precaution. He hoped he did not have to use them, but he was not afraid to defend his lover.

Another man, large, dark and menacing came forward from the door to grin nastily at Robert as if aware of what the younger man was about to do.

"Thank you, Jacques. I am quite sure this little morsel, so much to your taste, will make no further moves. Now, Monsieur, I, as you know quite well, am the Compte de Lys and you have in your possession something that belongs to me."

"I can assure you, sir that I have nothing in my care that can ever be described as having belonged to any other man." Grayson met the Count's eyes levelly. Price had been a prisoner of the man before him and he would not permit his beloved to fall into the Count's hands once more.

"Perhaps I should go and find a constable?"

"I think not."

The Count answered Robert's question before Grayson could speak. He glanced over towards his friend and the man who watched Robert with a hunger in his dark eyes that made Grayson shudder.

"Jacques is partial to teaching pretty boys who disobey me the error of their ways. I would suggest you keep your hands where he can see them and remain where you are."

"If either of you touch him..." Grayson began, his voice hard and angry.

"You will have me to answer to."

"Sherlock!" Grayson exclaimed his friend's name with relief. He could see the older man was not alone. John was close behind him, his normally placid, dark eyes glaring with undisguised loathing at the Count. However, it was the third man who held his attention.

He was as tall as Sherlock and looked to be in his mid-thirties. His hair was as black as a raven's wing, poker straight and reached chin length. His face was angular, with prominent cheek bones and full lips. He was beautiful in an entirely masculine way. His eyes were grey and intelligent and looked intently at him for a moment and then swept around the room taking everything in.

"I rather think he would have me to answer to, Mr Holmes."

The newcomer's voice was confident and well-modulated. Looking between his friend and the stranger, Grayson was surprised to see the slight hint of a smile on Sherlock's face.

"You are entirely right, Mr Rawlinson. Grayson, permit me to introduce Spencer Rawlinson, a rising star in my brother's employ."

"I will be staying here, on these premises, for a short while, Mr Black. It was deemed...propitious by Mr Mycroft. Additionally, I have arranged for the local constabulary to patrol this vicinity with regularity. It seems there may be some blackguards in the neighbourhood that are likely to target your establishment."

"You are most welcome, sir," Grayson said. As difficult as it would be to accommodate a third in his tiny living quarters, he would find a way if this man was sent to help protect his lover.

"You have already become quite tiresome, monsieur Holmes. In the protection of the one, do not fail to ensure the safety of your own...things of value."

Grayson smothered the gasp of shock at the look of hatred that passed over his friend's face as the Count leered openly at John whilst he spoke.

"I suggest, sir, that you leave quietly. Mr Mycroft is quite fond of Dr Watson and should aught befall him, I can assure you that the perpetrator would feel the full force of his considerable wrath."

Holding his breath, Grayson watched as the Count turned slowly to regard Rawlinson. His skin crawled at the way the Count's eyes blatantly roved over the slighter man's form as if undressing him.

"I have met your kind before, sir and I fear you not. Leave now before I have you and your hired thug tossed into a cell for polluting the air we breathe."

"Come!"

It was with a silent exhalation of relief that Grayson watched the Count's man obey like a dog at its master's heel and the men leave. He waited long enough to see John lock the door and turn its sign to read 'closed' before he rushed into the store room to take a pale-faced Price into his arms.

"It's alright, he's gone," Grayson murmured into his lover's hair as the younger man burrowed tightly against him. He held Price against his chest, feeling the tremors that wracked the smaller frame.

"He is not giving up. He frightens me."

"He is not taking you from me. No one is taking you from me," Grayson said, his voice reflecting his determination. He could not, would not, give up his love. Not for any man. "Let us go through and speak to Sherlock. He has brought someone to stay here and help protect you." He smiled reassuringly at the stricken look on Price's face. "Sherlock would not jeopardise us, my love," he murmured kissing the pale cheeks before claiming the lush lips.

For a moment, Price was stiff. Then, to Grayson's relief, his lover seemed to melt in his arms, pressing so close to his chest that Grayson could no longer be certain whose heart he could feel beating. He slowly eased the younger man back to gaze lovingly into the emerald depths.