Andy's alphabet
This is a totally silly story because I am so tired of seeing poor Thomas getting treated like rubbish and never having any happiness. I thought he deserved some fun times and laughs.
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One Christmas Eve after a rather rowdy servants' party, Thomas decides to teach Andy the alphabet…
They settled down in Andy's bedroom with a pencil and a large piece of paper, on which Thomas wrote the alphabet. In a rare gesture of generosity, Carson had poured all the male staff members a large whiskey—even after all the beer they'd drunk—so they had brought theirs with them. They sat on the bed, one at each end for propriety's sake.
"You start," said Thomas, pointing to A.
"A is for apple." Andy grinned and drew an apple underneath the A.
"B is for breakfast," said Thomas, drawing sausages and bacon on a plate.
"C is for cock," said Andy, laughing. Thomas choked on his whiskey, grabbed the pencil off him and quickly drew a cockerel.
Andy snatched the pencil back and drew a penis. "I was thinking more of that."
Thomas frowned and slapped Andy's arm. "D is for drunk." He drew a cartoon curly haired footman holding a drink.
"Is that meant to be me?" Andy raised his eyebrows. "Damn cheek. E is for Extremely Rude."
"How would you draw that then?" Thomas giggled.
Andy drew a smartly dressed man with black hair sticking his tongue out. "That's you being rude."
"F is for friendship." Thomas emphasised the word clearly.
"So how would you draw that?" Andy laughed.
"Er…" Thomas drew two smiling faces.
"G is for—er—great fun."
"You're not making it easy for yourself, are you?" Thomas smiled as Andy tried to draw a picture symbolising great fun.
"H is for help me then, you idiot."
"No, you've got that wrong. I is for idiot!" They were both laughing so much now neither of them could hold the pencil properly and kept dropping it.
"J is for…just get on with it."
"Get on with what?" Thomas's brain, fuzzy with alcohol, struggled to understand.
Andy raised his eyebrows. "K is for kiss me before I lose my nerve."
Thomas took a shaky gulp of whiskey. "L is for—for—the legal aspects of that."
"M is for my decision." He smiled rather hazily.
"N is for—er—no one else likes me so they think I'm taking advantage of you."
"O is for oh no you're not."
"P is for please don't make fun of me."
"Q is for—er—um—can't think of one. Quail. Mr Mason will raise quails on the farm."
"Ugh, I don't want to think about Mr Mason." Thomas chuckled loudly, then shushed himself. "R is for—"
"Right now!" Andy shuffled across the bed to him and kissed him on the lips, sloppily, breathing whiskey fumes over him. Thomas's body jerked—thirteen years without being touched lovingly by anyone does that to a man. Andy grinned against his mouth and pushed him slowly and carefully back on the bed.
"But, what if the others find out?" Thomas's voice didn't seem to work properly, it sounded high and wavery. Not like his normal voice.
"S is for shush," said Andy, hurrying to lock the door. "They already suspect us of doing this so we've got a free pass to do it." He wriggled back onto the narrow bed with Thomas, looked into his eyes and stroked his hair.
"I don't think we'll get much more reading practice done tonight." Thomas smiled.
"Well it is Christmas. I want to make you smile like that every day."
They kissed for a long time.
When they stopped, grinning and out of breath, Thomas teased, "you're too easily distracted. This is a reading lesson, we must finish the alphabet. T is for—"
"Thomas Barrow, the man of my dreams." Andy hugged him tightly and a little roughly.
"Steady on, I'll get big headed," he mumbled against Andy's neck.
"No, no, no. You have to think of a U."
"Er…U is for…under the covers?"
"Well done." Andy began undoing Thomas's jacket but his fingers moved faster and faster til the starched garment hit the chest of drawers with a thud and Thomas lay there in only his undershirt and trousers. He quickly returned the favour til they were equal. For a few seconds, they gazed at each other, then their fingers were pulling at each other's shirt buttons, braces, trouser buttons until they were just wearing their long johns.
"Why do we wear so many clothes?" complained Andy as they gazed at each other, panting.
"We're nearly finished. V. V is for…very good Christmas."
"Hopefully." Andy kissed him again. "W is for will you be quiet." He moved on top of Thomas, squashing the breath out of him and they kissed deeply, tongues searching every inch of each other's mouths. Thomas thawed with the heat and passion flooding through him like molten fire.
The next while was a blur of skin against skin, muscle against muscle, the rickety bed rocking like a heartbeat and Thomas feeling loved like he'd never been loved before, even during the Crowborough months.
Afterwards Andy lay half on him and half off. He turned his head and winked but Thomas couldn't stop grinning long enough to wink back. His arm was trapped under the young footman so he dug his nails into his skin, making him jump and move to lie next to him.
"X is for…" He shrugged.
"Persistent aren't you." Andy grinned. "Nothing begins with X."
"Okay, Y is for yes."
"We both said that a lot just now didn't we." They giggled, alcohol and pleasure pushing any problems away.
"And Z is for zebra. There, that is the end of your lesson."
"The best lesson ever." They were pressed together still. Stuck together with love. Then fell asleep in each other's arms because there was no other way to sleep in such a narrow bed.
And the next day…
was…
Christmas Day.
