Inspired by this prompt:
post/47877943287/i-am-never-going-to-write-this
Summary: Basically: "It's a variation on the Jealous Jimmy/Valet Green plot, but Green and Thomas are BFF from way back, when they worked in the same house (even if Thomas was 24 or younger when he started at Downton, he must have had a job before that.) They've stayed in touch on and off all this time (his non-erotic penpal!) When Green, who is straight, (eyes for Daisy would be a bonus) comes to Downton, they're all high-fives and 'Hey, bro!' and 'Remember that time we divided and conquered an entire shooting party by Sunday lunchtime?' and Jimmy, of course, is, 'Oh, no, Thomas does not have a better friend than me.' "
And jealous feely hijinks ensue. I have a feeling this is going to be a long one.
Note:Ok so here we go, my 1st attempt ever at fanfic, of any fandom. This is so much fun! Rated for eventual eventualities.
Any/all feedback on the writing is much appreciated!
I'm so lonely I could melt/And be forgotten instantly/I love you very patiently/Honey, please don't finish me
Robyn Hitchcock, "Birds in Perspex"
He couldn't figure out how to extinguish his love for Jimmy. It burned constantly, fed by aspects of Jimmy himself but also his own perception of Jimmy. Every time Thomas thought he had found and isolated and examined and ultimately crushed the spark that fed his love, he'd find another hot flare, that had been so constant it had gone unnoticed. Like when he felt, finally, that he had distanced himself from Jimmy's golden beauty, finding and focusing on tiny minute flaws until they filled his vision, he found himself suddenly endeared to those very flaws: Jimmy's awkward bluster when called out on something or missing a joke, his unctuous flirting with visiting ladies maids, the star-shaped scar below his ear, his surprisingly delicate feet, and his chipped left incisor. They all became marks that only guided him deeper into Jimmy and the apparently relentless depths of his appeal. Loving Jimmy was like walking on a carpet of embers, dangerous, edgy, so pervasive that he couldn't tell where it ended, what fed it, or even feel if it hurt, only the constant burn and thrill, the strangeness of it all.
Were they even friends, could they be, with such depths to Thomas's affections, with all the efforts it took to conceal them from Jimmy and crush them in himself? How could one feel so close to someone, so tied to their every word and gesture, and at the same time feel terribly and permanently separate from them? If you are ashamed to love someone, can a friendship still thrive? Thomas asked these questions of himself, often. And yet the rightness that underscored their talk and banter, the seeming kinship shared in a raised eyebrow or tossed-off comment that helped move the day along, their reconciliation when none was guaranteed or even likely, and most of all the feeling of truth that underscored how charmedand charming he felt in Jimmy's company, wasn't that real and wasn't that friendship? Or was this friendship something that fanned his love but was ultimately consumed by it, like fresh air spurring a housefire onto greater and greater destruction?