A/N: This is the sequel to "Nocturnal confessions" - you should probably read that one first in order to understand everything. Warning: this is soppy aaaall the way...
"What are you doing?" Thomas asked with furrowed brow. He skeptically regarded the bowl with the indefinable substance Alfred was digging his hands in.
"It's the stuffing for the roast, I have to prepare it today and then it needs to stand overnight. You can taste it tomorrow if you want to.." Alfred looked busy, his face gone shiny red and his hair tousled. I remember that expression on your face, but you weren't cooking then, were you?! Thomas chuckled.
"What is it?!" the ginger footman asked, a little stressed out.
"Looks like it'd already been eaten." Barrow smiled at him snarkily.
"Don't be daft Tho..." Alfred looked about himself, wondering if anyone was still in or near the kitchen. Hearing Ivy and Daisy clearing up the dishes in the servant's hall next door, he coughed and continued: "Mr. Barrow! It will be just perfect, it doesn't have to look good, you know, it will taste delicious..." He nodded firmly.
"Of course it will - since you made it! I do know you're good with your hands." Shit, where did that come from? The under-butler flushed a bit at his own words.
"Don't get cheeky with me Thomas. Might regret it..." the young man whispered with a wink.
Because you're going to do what?! Tell me...you naughty footman!
"Hm." Tapping his fingers at the table, Thomas felt the urge to get it going. A week had past since that night and since then, he'd been thinking about it every day - let alone the nights - ...and how much he wanted to repeat what had happened between them. "So, any plans for...tonight?"
"No, I'm going to bed after finishing this." Alfred pointed at the bowl.
"Ah, I guess you're tired, it's been a long day..." Barrow nodded understandingly, but feeling a slight pang of disappointment.
"I didn't say I was tired. I just said " his eyes shot up meeting Thomas's "I want to go to bed..." Thomas's face started to burn. Is he encouraging me? Damn...he might really want me to come to his room... How can I be completely sure? Won't make a fool of myself again...
"Are you going to read then?" trying to keep his voice steady, Barrow silently begged for an unmistakeable answer.
"No." Alfred smiled wickedly. Oh god...
"So?!" Thomas's whole body tensed up because of anticipation.
"Depends..." Alfred gave him a knowing look. On what!? ON WHAT?! "on.." Come on, say it!
"...the persons involved." he replied bluntly. Yes! I knew it! Thomas inhaled deply and bit his inner cheek to keep him from whooping with joy. "Sounds very nice!" he returned in a hoarse voice. "Good night then!"
"Well, it's not really good night, is it?!" Alfred murmured with a smile on his lips. Oh god, oh YES!
With racing heart, Thomas headed up the stairs to his room and closed the door behind him. Calm down! You've done this before... Alright. It's gonna be fine. Taking some deep breaths, he undressed quickly and started to wash. The cold water ran over his face and neck, dripping onto his shoulders and tracing thin lines down his chest. He stroked his wet dark hair back with his hands, looking into the mirror. You're going to do the right thing tonight – no screwing up this time! Putting on his pyjamas, he smirked, considering the fact that he would take them off again as soon as possible. He brushed his teeth and put on some cologne. Once more he checked himself in the mirror – Thomas surely had the looks and the attitude of a seducer, but his hands were shaking now and so was his mind...
Walking over to the dresser, he mentally listed the things he wanted to take to Alfred: a bottle of red wine, crystal glasses, a few long creme-white candles... and his cigarettes – of course!He'd been planning everything for days and imagined what it'd be like with Alfred, properly, not just some bloody groping between 2 half-drunks... Wrapping everything into a blanket, he walked to the door – then suddenly turned around, going back to the dresser – and taking out a little bottle of oil. I'm certainly not going to use this the way I'd like to, but... just in case...
When he finally stood in front of Alfred's door, he felt his pulse quicken and his throat going dry. For god's sake Barrow, just pull yourself together! It's nothing new to you, is it?! Raising his hand to knock on the door, he realised it was ajar. So he's waiting for me... "Alfred?" he whispered nervously.
"Come in, it's open." he heard his low voice answer. Slowly entering the room, he gazed at Alfred – the footman was drying his hair with a towel and smiled when their eyes met. "Thomas. I'm glad you're here...aah...what's that?" he requested, pointing at the bundle in Thomas's hands. Barrow suddenly felt absolutely foolish.
"Oh, that. Well I thought..some wine would be nice and...you know..." God, Thomas, you're such an idiot! Next time you bring him flowers, huh ?! Sensing a rush of blood running to his head, he quickly started unpacking his stuff on Alfred's bed - the bottle of oil still hidden in the blanket. Glancing jittery at the footman's rumpled pillow, he wondered if he was still dreaming of him. What an awkward idea - nobody had ever dreamt of him- he thought.
"Ah great, I'd love to drink some of this with you..it was so much fun last time..." Alfred chuckled as his fingers brushed the bottle. Thomas glanced at him with anticipation.
"And you brought glasses, how posh...not necessary...but very beautiful." the footman marvelled at the sight of the crystal. „So what is this...?" picking out a long candle, his face suddenly contorted. "Thomas! It was a joke! I thought it was obvious." Looking at the under-butler with disgust, Alfred dropped the candle in an instant.
"What do you mean, what was a joke?" Thomas frowned blankly.
"About bringing the wine and the … stick. A joke Thomas! I never thought you would actually..." he paused. "Sorry, but I think this is really, really weird and you can call me a bore all you like, I don't bloody care, I'm not going to be ..." he gestured vigorously with his hands "some...some.. human candleholder!"
"Alfred, what are you on about, I don't under-..." Thomas went pale - suddenly it dawned on him. "Oh. Oh no! NO! Alfred, it's not what you think..." SHIT! He thinks I'm a fucking pervert now! Great! You spoiled it again, Barrow! He slowly sat down on the bed, burying his distressed face in his hands. "This is going wrong.." he whispered to himself.
"Thomas?!" the footman asked cautiously.
"Alfred. I wanted to bring candles to have some nice dim light when we ... when … Oh hell, Alfred, I'm no pervert, how could you even consider this..." Barrow shook his head, his face still a painful sight.
"Oh shit! Thomas! I'm so sorry..." In a moment, Alfred kneeled down in front of Barrow, cupping his face with both hands. „Sorry." he breathed, leaning his head against Thomas's. The sensation of Alfred's hands on his cheeks - his soothing voice and soft breath so close - gave him some comfort to relax. He tentatively kissed the young man on the head, then suddenly realising his shaking shoulders. Huh?! Is he crying? As Barrow raised Alfred's head, he burst out laughing. "Sorry, Thomas! I thought you're a pervert, but you're just a romantic!" Thomas flinched instantly.
"I'm NOT!" he insisted with annoyance. Great, that's even worse... he thinks I'm a sissy! Fuck!
"You are! Admit it!"
"No way in hell!" he huffed.
"Alright, but: be warned. I can make you!" Alfred grinned devilishly, starting to wiggle his fingers.
"No Alfred, please! Don't do that!" Thomas raised his hands in fear. "I can't stand it, I..."
But it was too late - the footman had already pounced on him, pushing him back onto the matress and letting his fingers start to torture him. Thomas began to laugh uncontrollably as the young footman tickled him all over – starting with his neck, then behind his ears, under his arms, his stomach...
His breathing stuttered and tears started coming... "Please, Alfred! Please!" he begged. Alfred stopped - a satisfied smile on his face. "Got you Barrow, I knew you were ticklish!" Thomas didn't answer. Alfred was still on top of him. "Say it, come on!" he demanded. "Admit it, you like candles and wine and all this romantic stuff! So do I!" he smirked at him.
"Alright then, yes, maybe a little." Thomas blushed. He likes it, he really does... "Maybe we should start drinking the wine instead of just talking about it." He opened the bottle and poured the wine while Alfred lit the candles.
"Perfect!" Alfred mumbled and raised his glass to the , Barrow lit a cigarette on a candle and opened the window. The night was clear, a flowery scent still lingering in the soft air. Thomas took a drag when he felt Alfred's presence close behind him.
"I like the moon!" the footman remarked, gazing at it with delight while taking a sip of wine. "Most people favour the sun though. But I think the moon is much more interesting if you keep looking at it for a while – there may not be such obvious beauty in the first place, but there's a strange attraction to it anyway." Just like you then – Thomas thought with a pensive face. And Jimmy... had to be the sun. Jimmy... He hadn't been thinking much about him during the last few days, not even at night. Instead, a cheeky ginger kept sneaking into his dreams. Life's strange sometimes.. he thought, tenderly looking Alfred over.
"And he beholds the moon - like a rounded fragment of ice filled with motionless light..." Thomas exhaled a huge cloud of smoke, swiping Alfred's glass and taking a gulp.
"Born a poet, are you?!" Alfred murmured in his ear.
"I'm afraid, that's Flaubert..." Thomas admitted with a grin.
"Is he as good-looking as you?" Alfred teased.
"I wouldn't think so...he's dead!" Barrow laughed, feeling a little flattered.
"Alright, I'll stay with you then..." the young man behind him suddenly put his arms around Thomas and hugged him tenderly.
"Stop being that soppy!" he demanded with mock annoyance, but his heart grew wide all the same at the feeling of Alfred's embrace. With closed eyes, he tried to remember the last time he'd felt this happy before...but no, not happy. He wouldn't dare to consider himself being happy. If he did, something or someone would come along and take it away from him immediately, that was for sure – that's what life had thaught him so many times. Though probably I've never been less unhappy than I'm now... So he leant back into Alfred's embrace - feeling his nose playfully nudging his cheek - and for a moment he thought that life wasn't so bad after all …
"How did we get here Thomas?" „Hm?" Thomas tried to turn his head to Alfred, taking a puff.
"Well, you've already been here ..." he exhaled slowly "and then you said I could come in...so here we are!" he smirked, trying to kiss Alfred's neck but failed when he pulled back.
"Thomas, I mean it! How did this happen? How did we get here, I mean - come on...?" he raised his hands and let them drop again, his face an expression of helplessness. Barrow remained silent. How did we get here? By chance? Lucky twist of fate? In fact, he didn't care. Not at all.
"Why is it important? Complicated question - simple answer.." he turned around and quickly kissed Alfred on the mouth.
The footman smiled into the kiss for a moment, but then drew back, frowning.
"You know, Lady Edith has a new fiance now...don't you think it's strange? How can she fall in love again so easily after everything that's happended with Sir Anthony...!? Do you think she really likes him?! Because he's just second best now, isn't he... " Alfred complained in a strange glum voice. Aah! I see what you're getting at, my boy!
"Yes I bloody do think she's in love with him, Alfred!" Thomas responded harshly, gripping the younger man's shoulders. "Sir Anthony wasn't the one for her and no mistake! If he were, it would have worked out … "
"Hm." Alfred nodded uncertainly.
"Yes..." Thomas mumbled into his neck, starting to kiss his soft skin up to his ear. "Can you think of anything I could do to cheer you up?" I could 'blow away' your doubts, I guess... Tilting his head slightly, Alfred sighed and placed a hand on the small of Thomas's back, the other one caressing his hairline.
"Why don't we...sit down?" he asked in a slightly shaking voice.A knowing smile on his lips, Thomas took his hand and slowly walked over to the bed.
"Fucking tiny...isn't it?!" he snorted at the sight of the small cot. "How can you even sleep in there, I wonder.."
"Well, I don't want to sleep now, so.." Cheeks blushing, Alfred looked Thomas up and down, his eyes starting to show a hint of desire.
"Come here!" Thomas sat down on the bed, his back against the headboard, pulling Alfred between his spread legs so that his back leant against Barrow's chest. The young man let his head drop into the crook of Thomas's neck and closed his eyes. "How was your day then?" Barrow asked in a husky voice, watching Alfred's peaceful visage in the pale moonlight. God, you're adorable... He let his fingertips run softly over the fair skin of his neck up to his cheek, when he suddenly felt the urge to smell him.
"Well Carson kept me and Jimmy busy all day, as usual, but this morning I went to Mr. Tufton's spice shop in Thirsk to … what are you sniffing at?!" Alfred frowned, trying to look at him.
"Sorry, I just couldn't resist..." Thomas blushed a little, his nose still buried in Alfred's hair. But he smells so...hmmm. Unique. I could probably find him at night with my nose alone... The footman shook his head in amusement, then turned towards Barrow - watching him closely.
"You know, I also met a really handsome man today, Thomas. You would have liked him, I'm sure ..." What?! Wait...what man?! Thomas's smile disappeared and his fingers paused, the glass in his other hand clutched tightly.
"What do you mean?" he swallowed thickly.
"This man...oh he really was something to look at – a beautiful face, piercing eyes - and his mouth...so seductive!" Alfred leaned in closer to Thomas, now whispering: "I really wanted to push him against a wall and kiss him until he couldn't breathe anymore...but then..."
"Then?!" Thomas's eyes widened in bewilderment. ?!
"Then he started insulting me, saying my stuffing looked disgusting...and so.." he shrugged, his face gone mischievous.
"You! Don't do that again!" Alfred smirked as Thomas made an attempt to hit him.
"Thomas, watch it!" he exclaimed, trying to catch the candle that was about to come off his bed table, but he failed. "Aaah.." he hissed, when he felt the hot wax running down his forearm. The candle eventually dropped to the floor, the flame gone out.
"Oh god Alfred, you're alright?" In an instant, Thomas jumped off the bed, accidently spilling the wine all over his pyjama shirt. "Shit! Oh...damn! Come on, let me see it...!" Barrow carefully peeled the sticky wax off Alfed's arm, making him moan slightly. "Does it hurt?" he asked, lifting his arm to his mouth – then softly kissing the little red mark on it.
"Hmm. I'm not sure, maybe ... keep on doing that for a while..." Alfred took a sharp breath, tilting his head back. Thomas raised his eyes, and a suggestive smile spread over his face.
"Like that?!" he muttered, gently licking and sucking at the inside of his arm.
"Oh!..Ah, yes … like.. hmmm ...that!" Barrow could feel Alfred's other hand grabbing his waist, his fingertipps digging into his skin.
"This looks really bad, you know... I was a medic during the war - I can help you with that! You definitely need further treatment..." he laughed hoarsely, feeling strangely thrilled by the way Alfed responded to his yet soft caressing. He finally let go of his arm, his hands slowly sliding under the footman's shirt while he pressed his mouth against his collarbone. "What do you want?" Thomas whispered against his skin – and Alfred shuddered a little.
"Ah...I ...I don't know. You. Just you." Their eyes met - and Thomas firmly pressed him against the wall next to the window, his hips softly rocking against Alfred's.
"You're hard.." he moaned. Hmm...so hard...
"So - so are you.." Alfred stammered nervously, his hands shyly stroking Thomas's back, then gliding down to his behind – squeezing it gently.
Thomas groaned in response. "Ah...yes. Now kiss me...I've been waiting for so long..."
Alfred closed his eyes and sighed, then leaned in to brush his lips against Thomas's ever so tenderly. Oh! Barrow was surprised by the overwhelming sensation aroused by this rather chaste kiss. He started prodding Alfred's lips with the edge of his tongue and when Alfred eventually parted them, he felt his tongue sliding into his mouth and it felt so good, he had to grab the young man's neck fiercely to pull him even closer.
"May I..." Thomas demanded, nervously tugging at his shirt. He couldn't wait any longer, he wanted to feel more of him, more of his skin ... Just more. When the shirt finally dropped to the floor, Alfred bit his lip, looking slightly bashful.
"Your turn..." he muttered, pulling off Thomas's shirt slowly and exposing his bare chest. "It's ruined now anyway..."
"Hmm...that feels good." Tilting his head slightly as he felt Alfred placing slow open-mouthed kisses on his shoulder, Barrow sneered: "God, I'd like to see the maids' faces...oh hmmm... when they... have to wash it..."
"Oh, fuck the maids!" Alfred returned indifferently, his hands gliding down Thomas's pale chest.
"I think I'd rather not, thank you very much!" he smirked, tracing small lazy circles around the footman's nipple.
Alfred's eyes shot up, his face tensed as he took a deep breath. "Why..." he murmured in an uncertain voice "why don't you fuck me then?" Barrow's smile froze, his heart beating wildly. The heavy silence following was almost painful - the air thick with lust but also unspoken fears.
"I don't think…this is a good idea right now..." his thumb softly stroked Alfred's cheek.
"But why..." Alfred objected, obviously feeling slightly disappointed.
"Because...you're not ready for that yet. Not tonight Alfred." Thomas cupped his face with both hands, pressing his lips tenderly against his forehead. "You can do it to me though...if you want to..." he whispered - gingerly placing his hand below Alfred's navel, then wandering down to his very prominent erection, stroking it with slow-paced movements through the fabric of his pyjamas.
"Thomas! Ooh!...maybe there's something else I ...hhmmm...I'd like to try. If you don't..mind..."
"What is it?" Thomas's head shot up. "Tell me!" He didn't know exactely why, but he wanted to do everything to please Alfred as much as he could – to make him absolutely and completely happy. Maybe I'm really getting old and soppy...
"What you did before...the candle...then ...you kissed my arm... I liked that!" Alfred murmured, an intense blush rising to his cheeks.
Thomas chuckled. How cute is that... "Kiss your arm? I think I can manage that..!"
"No. I mean... shit! The candle and...the wax... I liked it. I really liked it..."
"What?!" Barrow gave him a quizzical look.
"Ah forget it...doesn't matter..." he shook his head.
"No wait, you mean..." Oh. OH! "God Alfred, you mean I should do that...on purpose?!" Wooaaah, that ginger minx... "Your wish is my command!" Thomas replied excitedly, giving him a quick peck on the lips.
To Barrow, it was the most erotic sight ever – Alfred lying flat on his back in front of him, breathing heavily as Thomas, kneeling above him, let the hot wax drip agonizingly slowly onto his bare chest.
"Hmm ... Thomas!" he gasped, gripping Barrow's arm tightly, when he started to lick and suck at the skin around the wax. He watched Barrow with hooded eyes, lips slightly parted - waiting for him to continue. "Oh god...that feels... so good..." he whimpered, squirming, when Thomas eventually poured the wax on his abdomen, his fingertips tracing lines down to his groin ... "Thomas...I can't...please! Can we do it…like...you said before?!" Alfred panted.
"What do you mean? I'm sorry, I don't understand.." Thomas smiled innocently.
"Hmmm...stop...teasing me!" he digged his nails into Thomas's upper arm, forcing eye contact. "I want you... like that! Now Thomas, please!" Barrow finally pulled down Alfred's trousers, moaning lowly at the view of his impressive hardness, then gently sucking and licking the tip of it. "God!…oh ...Thomas, oh god!" the young man muttered, eyes squeezed shut. Feeling a tingling sensation all over his sweaty body, he writhed in ecstasy.
"Sorry..." Thomas raised his head and crawled up his body "but...you taste...divine!" he moaned into his ear. "So what is it you want from me?" he whispered teasingly.
"Thomas, you know...! " Alfred's eyes were begging now.
"Say it!" Barrow hissed, heavy lust written all over his face. He got strange pleasure from tantalising Alfred so heavily – maybe because he knew the release would be so much more intense later...
"For god's sake...just let me fuck you ...Thomas!" Alfred burst out and at the sound of his words, Thomas instantly felt himself harden even more. He quickly took out the bottle of oil and leered as Alfred's eyes widened. "You planned that?! God Thomas!" he smirked.
Barrow prepared himself rapidly, then pulled Alfred on top of him and started stroking with oil-soaked fingers. "Oh - hmm Thomas!" he groaned as he made the first push, and his face was full of delicate emotions. His wide eyes were fixed on Barrow's as he thrusted into him, more vigorously now, and they clutched each other desperately, panting and moving together. "Thomas...hhmm,it feels...it's...oh god!" Alfred stuttered shakily, lowering his head to kiss Thomas's neck.
"I know. I know..." he mumbled between little gasps, but it was a lie. He didn't know. It'd never felt this way. He felt Alfred. Not just inside his body, but yet so much deeper... It felt so right. It felt like making love. And he couldn't think, because he just felt so much, in every possible way. He knew he couldn't last long, the sensation was just too overwhelming . „Slow down ginger...this is becoming...a little too good..." he moaned and Alfred paused for a moment and watched him, fascinated.
"Thomas..." he sighed, gently caressing his cheek with his fingertips. "Thomas." Oh this look...these eyes... Barrow let his hand run through Alfred's ruffled hair and melted their lips into a soft kiss.
"Move!" Thomas begged. And he did. "Harder!" he panted, when the heat became unbearable and he felt he was close. "Oh...god! Aah..like that...please ..I'm...oh fuck!" he arched his head back, as he felt Alfred stroking his cock and ramming into him - frantically. The last thing Thomas realised were Alfred's beautiful lips on his, soft but demanding, a few last hard pushes...and he felt waves of absolute and pure emotion flood his body. He barely noticed Alfred's tensing body until he collapsed on him, still gasping heavily and melting into his arms.
For a moment, Thomas imagined he could stay like this forever – lying in Alfred's arms - locked in this little room and leaving the ugly world outside...
"Do you think anybody will notice if we never come out again?" Thomas muttered in Alfred's ear.
He chuckled in response, showering Barrow with lazy wet kisses all over his chest. "Tell me something..." he mumbled.
"You're a little wanton... you know ?!" Thomas smirked, lighting a cigarette.
"So?!...You loved it, didn't you?!" he remarked, nudging his arm.
"Indeed, ginger!" Thomas responded with closed eyes, puffing out a cloud of smoke and wondering if the glorious sensation of what they'd just done would ever fade away...
"Tell me something ...I don't know...something romantic, will you?!" Alfred snuggled up to him, blinking rapidly as he waited, and Thomas could see his long ginger eyelashes flutter. Oh no, not these puppy eyes...!
"Don't look at me like that...I can't deny you anything with these eyes!" he bent his head and kissed his lower lip slowly. "Alright. I'll try. Hm. You... you taste incredible...everywhere." He gave him a knowing look as he took a drag on his cigarette. "And your smell..." he closed his eyes, his head leaned back "oh god. I love the way you smell, I really do.. . Your hair's like ...copper... and your skin...milky and pale and soft...I want to touch it all the time..." he coughed. "Alfred, I feel silly..." But it's true...every word is true.
"Thomas?!" Alfred raised his head, locking eyes with him.
"What?"
"Ah...I ...nothing.." he muttered, the colour rising in his cheeks. "But maybe...maybe you could stay here for a while?"
"I'm afraid, I should leave, it's late ...and this fucking bed is giving me back pain." He contorted his face as he got up and put his pyjamas on.
"Give me that..." Alfred requested, pointing at his cigarette. Thomas frowned as he passed him the fag.
"You're not smoking Alfred..."
"I know, just this once...it tastes... like you" he said bluntly, inhaling the smoke deeply and Thomas wanted to go back to the bed and crawl under the covers and stay there until sunrise...
"Goodnight..." he whispered, kissing Alfred's cheek. My love... he thought and it made him feel embarrassed and sheepish...and still it felt so good. He went to leave, but suddenly he paused for a moment - then turned around.
"You know what..." he sat down on the bed and started to whisper into Alfred's ear, so he couldn't see the blush that spread over his face. "Sometimes not getting what you thought you wanted is a very good thing. Because..." he continued, nervously rubbing the back of his hand "because then you might get something else and when you have that..." he took a deep breath, and a small smile crept across his face "...you realise that this is what you would've wanted in the first place … ."
THE END
A/N: It took me ages to write this, esp. the smut – sorry, I just couldn't do any better. But I really think they'd be such a sweet couple (though I'm a hardcore Thommy shipper!) and I do think there's some chemistry between Thomas and Alfred anyway … Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it. :0)
P.S. There will definitely be no sequel to this sequel! ;0)