It had been a long day for everyone below stairs. Although a chilly July by previous standards, it was not difficult to stay warm when rushing about as much as they did. The garden party was a great success. Carson and Mrs. Hughes were rather pleased with how it all transpired despite their grumbling. Though perhaps less extravagant since the Great War, the arrangement was still impressive. The refreshments were sumptuous as always, the garden furniture rested under the ecru canopies, and everyone stood, dressed in the understated elegance of this new decade, in the infrequent patches of sun to stay warm.

Thomas Barrow stood at a distance for one moment during that day to look out at the grand scene. He wished that Lady Sybil could be here. The sound of her laughter would fill the air as her daughter sat on her knee. How she had lost out. And Matthew too. Their absence made every gathering the Crawleys ever hosted henceforth a sort of mockery. Thomas felt a chill as a sharp breeze cut his face. He continued his duties for the day and tried not to think of his pangs.

After several hours, the guests began to disperse and one by one the cars pulled away and drove down the long gravel drive. The staff cleared everything away with near-military precision and headed back toward the kitchen to begin dinner. The evening dragged on until at long last the servants themselves dispersed.

Once in his room again, Thomas was almost too tired to remove his clothing, so he sat on the bed thinking of past times. Perhaps it was good that the grandeur of old was dying along with those who did not deserve death so soon. And what did he care for his masters? Although happier in some ways, his resentment and bitterness still lingered. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?"

"Me."

Thomas snapped himself out of his increasingly foul mood in an instant and said, "Come in, Jimmy." Mr. Kent stood in the doorway for a moment before entering. Even in the muted light of Barrow's room, Jimmy's blond hair shone as it hung about his temples. He closed the door behind him. He was painfully fair and beautiful in Thomas's eyes, and the the soft lines of his square jaw did grab his attention on many occasions. Thomas almost envied Jimmy for his wholesome looks and hated himself for his own roguish ones.

Presently, Barrow's mind was taken back to September 1921 when Jimmy came to see him after he had been attacked at the fair. Gratitude brought him to his room then. Their agreement to be friends had made him contented. Thomas was very sorry not to have his romantic feelings reciprocated, but an amicable relationship, however platonic, was quite welcome, particularly after O'Brien's exit. Over the past 10 months Mr. Kent had become an ally. Jimmy used to have a permanent scowl on his fair face when he looked at Thomas after the incident of the late-night kiss, but they had put that animosity behind them. The under-butler no longer felt such consuming guilt every time he laid eyes on Jimmy. That evening nearly a year ago, Jimmy had looked almost ashamed at his own actions. Although he had been disturbed my Barrow's sexual attentions, he had saved him from a severe beating. He could not deny that. Jimmy had called him "brave," and he meant it. From there on in they were comfortable around one another and could converse freely as friends. Yet now, Jimmy's sheepish look had returned.

"Something on your mind?" Jimmy nodded. He didn't look up.

"Must be bad." Thomas was almost amused, but when Jimmy didn't answer he looked at him with more scrutiny.

"Cigarette?" Jimmy refused. Thomas thought this might be some sort of confession. Perhaps it was "girl trouble." He wasn't sure if he could bear it. Yet they were friends now and he may be obliged to lend an ear.

"Go on," he encouraged. Jimmy breathed in silently. He looked up though still in thought. Thomas locked eyes with the footman. Something had changed but he had no idea what. Nothing had happened to alter Jimmy's attitude toward him. No incident was mentioned that might spark a change. Perhaps he had discovered some of his past deeds, or maybe someone had been telling Jimmy lies about him that were worse than anything Thomas had committed. He wished Jimmy would just get it over with.

"Do you remember, the day of the fair, obviously you do, when I said that I can never give you what you want?" Thomas remembered all too well that bittersweet day when he lost a potential lover and gained a friend.

"Yes," Thomas replied quietly as he cast his eyes in another direction. "I said that I didn't ask for...anything."

"Well," Jimmy started. He looked downward and without moving his head a second time he turned his eyes back on Barrow. "Today I – I thought I might like to...try."

Thomas tried not to let his imagination run away with him and asked as calmly as he could manage, "Do you mean...what I think you mean?"

"Yes," Jimmy admitted with soft confidence. Thomas got up slowly and walked over to him. The smell of the out-of-doors still lingered on them both. The sun had started to sink in the sky and the yellow sunlight that slanted in through the room accentuated Jimmy's honey-coloured hair. Jimmy approached Thomas like a boxer in the ring and the under-butler almost laughed. A smile began to play on his face. Jimmy had no idea what joy he was bringing him.

"Relax," Thomas said, trying not to be too seductive at first. How he had hungered for this, dreamed of this. It was too good to be true. Jimmy attempted to loosen his shoulders but ended up looking even more like a boxer in his first real match. His face was crimson with embarrassment. Thomas reached behind the younger man's neck to pull him a little closer, his finger finally weaving between the golden strands. Their lips met, flatly at first, but then they nestled together. The heat on Barrow's cool lips was titillating and he wrapped an arm around Jimmy's back instinctively. The footman did not pull away but roughly gripped the front of Thomas's waistcoat and shirt. A deep yet hushed grunt vibrated through Thomas's nose as he deepened the kiss. Simultaneously they both wrenched eachother closer. Their hips met. They broke apart with a passionate sound. Their hands clutched eachother's waists and shoulders.

"You're hard," Thomas said hoarsely. He was almost in disbelief. "Here," he said as he gently moved him over to the corner table. He began to unbutton Jimmy's uniform, occasionally stopping to kiss him. Soon his trousers were loosened and hung about his waist.

"Are you sure?" Thomas wanted to be certain that Jimmy consented wholeheartedly. The footman nodded yes. Thomas did not just want to separate himself from any guilt in the matter, but he suddenly remembered what it was like not knowing. He knew exactly what Jimmy was feeling. He tenderly maneuvered the untried young man to the small table, leaning him over it, and slowly drawing his trousers down past his buttocks. Jimmy held onto the table for support.

Thomas felt a veritable rod in his trousers that needed to come out. The desire was so strong that his mind was a complete blank. His only purpose was to unfasten his trousers. As soon as his alarmingly rigid member was free he let it touch Jimmy's bare backside. He gripped Jimmy's hip with his left hand and used his unengaged fingers to part his tight opening. As soon as Barrow's cock had started to slide in, he grasped Jimmy's right hip with a corresponding hand. Inexperienced Mr. Kent emitted what can only be described as a long and drawn out gutteral g sound. Thomas threw his head back and smiled. His actions had produced the desired effect.

Now Barrow's manhood faced another kind of entrapment, but this one promised a release. He began to piston, slowly at first so that Jimmy could savour every inch of his dart. Pleasure began to consume Thomas, his eyes shut tightly and he began to grunt softy with every stroke. Jimmy was falling into the glorious abyss himself. As Thomas increased his speed, Jimmy almost wimpered and screwed up his eyes in painful pleasure. Between Barrow's grunting and his own groans, it was not long before Jimmy felt himself going over the top. He squeezed his own cock, working it vigorously in rhythm with Barrow's, until he lost control completely. His member went off like a firecracker and he moaned loudly. And with that, Thomas came beautifully, filling Jimmy with his cum during his final, powerful groan.

Jimmy, panting like a dog with heatstroke, gripped the table in front of him and let his head drop to the cool wooden surface. Thomas's trembling body fell softly on top of him. The nearly dead weight gave him a sort of comfort in the awkwardness of the situation. But suddenly Jimmy made a move to rise to his feet and they stood apart, their still throbbing members exposed.

"Christ, I'm so hot. I feel like I'm going to be sick," Jimmy said breathing heavily. Sweat poured off his forehead.

"Are you?" Thomas said anxiously, moving towards him. He put a hand on his shoulder. Jimmy tightened his mouth and eyes and breathed in hard through his nostrils. He exhaled audibly through pursed lips. "No," he said before opening his eyes. He swallowed hard.

"Is it always like this?"

"What? Grab it while you can? Not always." Thomas thought back to his affair with that bastard Duke of Crowborough. True, it was a bit more leisurely, but still clandestine. Still illegal. "Come and sit down," Thomas urged. Jimmy was quite shaken. They both sat on the bed in silence. Thomas handed him a handkerchief so he could dry himself off.

"Buggery, isn't that what they call it?" Thomas suddenly felt guilty again. Perhaps he had taken advantage.

"I shouldn't have let this happen," Thomas sighed, shaking his head. He had been through this before. The shock, the fear of sodomy laws, the guilt, the worry at being caught. Jimmy reached for Barrow's hand. Thomas looked at him quizzically. They looked at one another thoughtfully, trying to fathom the other's thoughts. Thomas took Jimmy's hand and kissed it.

"We'd better clean our uniforms," Jimmy said. They both smiled.

"You alright?"

"Yes." Jimmy reached into his own pocket for a hankerchief and handed it to Thomas who took it with a word of thanks. He dried himself clean.

"I never thought it could be so wonderful." Thomas was almost stunned at this admission. He yearned to feel pleasure himself for so long, that he had forgotten the ecstasy he could give to another man. "How could something like this be illegal?" Jimmy asked no one in particular as he did up his uniform. "We haven't hurt anyone," he added, trying to bring logic into the equation. Thomas considered it, as he had millions of times before.

"I don't know," he began simply, "Carson says it's because of a twist of nature, but I don't think he actually has a reason for it being 'foul' as he puts it. I don't know that anyone does." Jimmy didn't say anything. He had thought those things too and he didn't even understand why.

"Why did you change your mind?" Jimmy didn't know if he could answer that either, but after a moment's pause he did.

"I was watching you today, standing close to the house," he said quietly, "You had the saddest look on your face I've ever seen on anyone. I thought that a man who feels that profoundly can't be all bad."

"Well that explains some of it." He was rather complacently amused, but tears came to his eyes as he grinned. He buttoned up his own livery. They sat still for sometime, their hands joined and their thoughts engaged. The night was drawing in and the strain of the day began to catch up with them. Jimmy took a deep breath and stood up. Thomas looked at him, trying not to show his disappointment.

"I have a lot to think about," Jimmy said, turning to him. Thomas got up and kissed him on the lips, just in case it was the last time. Jimmy's mouth was a little cooler now, but still succulent. They parted again but Thomas had one last question.

"Whatever happens, promise me one thing."

"What?" Jimmy stood my the door with his hand on the handle.

"That we will stay friends."

"I promise, I truly promise."