Author's Comments: I've edited this story quite a bit. I've changed some things, and added some. Instead of writing this from Jimmy's POV alone, I've added Thomas' as well. I feel adding Thomas' thoughts has given the story what it was missing. I feel much better about it now. Those of you who have been reading this story, I would recommend re-reading it now that I've edited things. I apologize for the inconvenience. The next chapters won't be posted until I'm absolutely sure it's written the way I like it.


'I... understand that, I do. And I don't ask for it. But I'd like it if we could be friends...'

'I don't ask for it. But I'd like it if we could be friends...'

'Be friends...'

'Friends...'

Jimmy Kent lay in his own bed, replaying in his mind the conversation they'd had that day in Thomas' room over and over again. For so long, he had thought that Thomas was only interested in him for his body, that all he wanted from him was sensual pleasure. He had looked at Thomas in a less than generous light; he'd thought the man to be promiscuous, far too deviant. That Thomas was the cat to his mouse; that Thomas was the predator to his prey. He thought that all Thomas had done to and for him was for sexual reasons; touching him because he wanted to feel his skin; doing things for him so as to get on his good side, perhaps hoping that Jimmy would give in and let Thomas have his way with him. It had been unnerving and anxiety-inducing for Jimmy; he'd never even had relations with a woman, never mind a man; a stronger, bigger, older man. He felt as if Thomas wanted to take advantage of him.

But once Thomas had saved him from being beaten, and was beaten himself instead, Jimmy began to wonder if it was less about attraction and more about love. But he thought, no, it must be attraction. Why would he love me for my mind? I've only ever treated him terribly...

Though when Thomas had reacted to his statement of 'I can never give you what you want' with understanding, and acted as if friendship would be enough, Jimmy began to look at him in a whole new light. It confirmed to him that all along, it really hadn't been based purely on sexual attraction alone, but rather, love as well. A love of who he was as a person; less about what he looked like.

He thought it was an incredible feat that Thomas loved him, even after the way he'd treated the man. He searched his mind for why Thomas possibly could after all the cruel things he'd done and said, and came to realize that Thomas loved him purely because of who he was, and it had less to do with how Jimmy had treated him or how Jimmy had made him feel. And that thought made Jimmy think that Thomas was a rather decent person. He showed such loyalty and devotion, and not because Jimmy was loyal and devoted in return, but because Thomas had just admired Jimmy's soul. Jimmy had never before witnessed such selflessness in another person, and at that moment, he admired Thomas just the same.

'Is love really such a foul thing...?' Jimmy asked himself, falling asleep soon after.

The next morning, Jimmy woke to a knock on his door, and came out of a dream involving he and Thomas. He'd had rather confusing dreams on and off that entire night and into the morning. One was based on Jimmy going to talk with Thomas in the middle of the night, asking why he loved him; due to the thoughts he'd had before falling asleep. Thomas' answer had been 'because you're all I've ever wanted', which had given Jimmy quite a tender feeling. Another was more frightening for Jimmy, and made him angry with himself; it was of he and Thomas alone in the dark, skin against skin, which glistened under the moonlight. 'I love you, Jimmy...' Thomas had whispered as he held Jimmy in his arms. Jimmy had never felt so at peace as he had in his dream, though now that he was awake, he could only internally curse at himself, and imagine what others would say.

'James Kent is a disgrace,' 'Jimmy's as foul as Thomas is,' 'He's been influenced by Mr. Barrow,' 'That boy deserves to be sent to prison,' 'What a disgusting lad he's come to be!'

'Well, they'd be right, if I were like that, but I'm not. It was just a bloody dream, nothing to get worked up about,' Jimmy had thought, pushing the dream to the back of his mind and blaming having it on Thomas; it certainly had nothing to do with his own wants and desires, that was for sure.

After dressing into his full morning livery, Jimmy helped Alfred set the upstairs table for breakfast, then returned to the kitchen to wait for Mrs. Patmore and Daisy to let them know when it was ready. Each room had felt terribly depressing after the death of Matthew Crawley; some wept, none smiled. Some reacted rather angrily to simple things. But Jimmy hadn't known Mr. Crawley very well and though he didn't enjoy that a man had died, it didn't really affect him either. He just continued going about his day.

After serving everyone upstairs, the servants ate downstairs, and once finished, Jimmy took a tray up to Thomas. He knocked on the man's door before entering, and once he did, he found Thomas reading that day's paper; he really couldn't do much else. Jimmy took in the sight of the older man; his messy black hair, his soft blue eyes, his pink lips. Jimmy looked away, clenching his teeth and swallowing; upset with himself for having so willingly observed Thomas.

"Morning, Mr. Barrow," Jimmy had said, smiling a quick and nervous smile as he stepped into the room. Thomas smiled and bowed his head.

"Morning, Jimmy," he replied, sounding rather cheerful despite his current state, and despite Mr. Crawley's death, as he placed the newspaper on his bed stand; giving Jimmy his full attention. Jimmy walked over to the bed, then stood still, looking down at Thomas' lap, uneasily.

'What do I do? Do I place it on his lap? What if my fingers... touch him?' Jimmy thought. He swallowed, nervously, and looked at Thomas from under his lashes only to quickly look away.

"Here, I'll take that," Thomas said, softly; realizing Jimmy's dilemma and lifting his arms to take the tray. Jimmy clenched his teeth and handed it to Thomas, whose fingers brushed against his own as he took it. Having Thomas' skin against his own... Having those warm and masculine, gentle hands touch him like they had so many times that year ago... It was like being shocked electrically and Jimmy quickly withdrew his hands, an instant reaction. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

Thomas luckily had steadied the tray before any of it's contents spilled onto his lap. He looked up at Jimmy, eyes wide, forehead wrinkling as he raised his brows. He thought to say, "Easy, Jimmy, I'm not the biting type," but instead kept quiet, so as not to embarrass the younger lad. He looked away, a smile on his face as he looked down at the tray once placing it on his own lap. Though he smiled only to appear kind and help ease Jimmy's discomfort; deep down, he felt that Jimmy was frightened of him, and it didn't sit well. He wished he'd never gone into Jimmy's room that night as he was asleep and kissed him.

'I was a fool, a bloody fool... How could I have listened to Ms. O'Brien? She said herself she'd make me pay. I should have known she was up to no good. Perhaps I was just hopeful that Jimmy really had returned the feelings... I let it blind me. And now... now it's hard for him to even be in me presence...' he thought. 'But at least he'll see me, now... At least he's agreed to be friends... That's a step up. I really should be grateful that he's brought me breakfast.'

"Thanks," said Thomas, taking the cup of water off the tray and bringing it to his lips to take a sip. Jimmy smiled, but once catching sight of Thomas' tongue sliding past his lips to lick them, his heart jumped, his blood felt as if it were made of fire as it flooded through his veins; such an adrenaline rush. That wet and soft pink tongue... so skillful, Jimmy imagined it'd be, if the kiss that year ago had been of any indication... his eyes began darting across the room in discomfort.

"Yes, you're welcome, Mr. Barrow," he'd said, quickly, before turning around and walking toward the door.

"Wait, Jimmy...?" Thomas suddenly called, before Jimmy left. Jimmy stopped, swallowed, then slowly turned around. He brought his hands together, picking at a nail, his discomfort making him fidget. Thomas was such a big presence...

"Yes?" he asked, trying to appear unaffected, though Thomas could see clearly that he was; though, he thought it was for other reasons.

"I think now that we're friends... when Carson's not around... you could call me Thomas, if you'd like," he said. There was hope in his voice that Jimmy picked up on, and he felt that he couldn't disappoint the black-haired man, especially after having understood that not everything Thomas said to him was based on sex; that it was more personal. Especially after the man so selflessly risked his own safety for Jimmy's.

"Right... Thomas. Of course," Jimmy replied, smiling and bowing his head, then turning back around and leaving the room.

To Be Continued...