Each night of the week, Thomas had gone to bed not only to sleep but to become aroused by thoughts of the Duke as he let his imagination gain control.

'He would have me, I'm sure he would...' thought Thomas one of those nights. He remembered how, that day, Philip hadn't stopped giving him meaningful looks, as if he were undressing Thomas with his eyes. After so long, Thomas finally felt desired and admired, and it filled him with hope. Perhaps now, he wouldn't have to be alone, he thought with pleasure. There was an ache in his chest; a nice ache. An ache he'd never before felt when thinking of another person.

'By the end of this bloody Summer, I'll have nothin' left in me, will I?' thought Thomas, finding himself humorous, as he stroked his tender member once again during their stay.

Thomas wondered if Philip would come into his room that night, or if he had gone go sleep. It had become a sort of ritual; all would head to their rooms, undress, put on their sleeping attire. Thomas would become aroused as he thought and Philip would come into his room as he was stimulating himself. One night the Duke had said, "Please, Thomas... Don't think you have to stop on my account," and had joined Thomas; running his hand along his own member as Thomas did the same.

Though there were nights when the Duke hadn't made a nightly visit; and after spilling his seed into a cloth, Thomas realized disappointedly that tonight was one of those nights. It was a surprise to him that he so missed the Duke.

The next morning, after dressing into his full morning livery, Thomas had helped serve breakfast, lunch and tea and found that the Crawley's and some servants were to leave the house for that day to attend to certain matters, leaving only Lady Grantham and the Duke behind. They'd left by noon and Thomas came to realize that he would be taking the place of the Duke's only footman as well as his valet. This satisfied Thomas, as he'd felt quite useless as of late; and the idea of replacing the Duke's valet thrilled him. He thought again and again of undressing the Duke before bed; wondering where things would head. And instead of only helping to serve dinner, bringing only sauces and such, given only moments to look at the Duke, he would now be fully in charge of serving. It would be a pleasant night for him, he knew.

As he served Philip and Lady Grantham in his nightly livery, the Duke spoke with gratitude.

"A fine footman you have here, Lady Grantham," he'd complimented, much to Thomas' pleasure, as he held a steady plate before the Duke. "His skill is that of a man who has worked many years under a respectable house."

Thomas smiled; appreciating the stroking of his ego.

That night, Thomas made his way into the Duke's room, excitement flowing through him. His heart raced, his palms began to sweat. Philip smiled as Thomas shut the door behind him and stepped forward.

"Good evening, Thomas," said Philip. He looked Thomas up and down with intensity. Thomas felt both uneasy and flattered by it.

"Good evening," Thomas repeated, ready to remove the Duke's clothes.

"No. Not yet. I will first have you draw me a bath," said Philip, turning to look into Thomas' eyes. They stood only inches apart.

At the words, Thomas swallowed.

"Of course," he said, bowing his head once, not making eye contact.

In the bathroom, there would be no interruptions, as the footman and valet were gone amd Lady Grantham had gone off to bed. Once the door was shut, Thomas began removing the Duke's clothes, very slowly and sensually. He would brush his fingers against the man's skin; his arms, his shoulders, his chest and stomach. After having his boots removed, Philip watched with desire as Thomas then pulled down his pants, his knuckles gently running against Philip's phallus beneath his undergarments. Thomas had done it deliberately; and he looked up at the Duke under his lashes, searching for a reaction. Philip looked both pleased and amused, his brows raised and the corner of his lips tilted upward in a smile.

"You're quite mischievous, aren't you?" Philip had said, causing Thomas to smile.

"Perhaps," he replied, looking into the Duke's brown eyes as he bent to the floor. Philip stepped out of his pants, then stood still, making it clear to Thomas that he was being given the permission to remove his underclothes as well.

"Hm. If you are to be so seductive, be sure you are prepared. You might come to realize you've bitten off more than you can chew," Philip said.

"Now I doubt that," Thomas replied.

"Do you?" responded Philip as Thomas removed his underclothes, bending down as he did so, so his face was leveled with Philip's semi-aroused manhood. Thomas looked at it, becoming hard within his own pants at the sight.

"I do," he said as he looked up into the Duke's eyes and gently planted a kiss on Philip's phallus, causing the brown-haired man to draw a breath. He lost his amused smile; his brows wrinkled; he became fully erect.

"Aren't you the little devil..." Philip said, though there was admiration in his voice. Thomas stood back up, so he and the Duke were face to face. Thomas' lips were parted as he breathed through them, stimulated and eager, desperate for affection. Philip looked from Thomas' eyes to his lips, and Thomas did the same, then they both leaned forward and gently kissed one another. First one soft kiss, then a second and a third, another and another. Then they become more rough, more passionate, until their hands were on each others bodies, explorable. Thomas reached down and took the Duke's member into his hand, running his fist up and down from base to tip. Philip groaned in his throat, shut his eyes and tilted his head back as pleasure overcame him. Thomas watched his face, proud that he was the cause of such satisfaction.

Thomas leaned forward and continued to kiss Philip, who returned the gesture immediately, and continued to run his hand all along the Duke's length, with skill and such sensuality. He softly circled his thumb against the tip, against the hole, and Philip had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from crying out. Thomas admired the look on the Duke's face; his beautiful red lips, his soft cheeks and long lashes which flickered against them as they were shut. He admired Philip's lean and muscular form, the hair that covered his chest and ran down his stomach to his genitals. The sight of the Duke's phallus, red and thick and long, leaking slightly as he touched it, was enough to send Thomas over the edge, he thought.

Just as Philip was ready to release his seed, Thomas released him and moved behind him, so as not to have his clothes ruined, and wrapped his hand back around the Duke's length. He held it tightly, but not too tightly, and moved his hand very slowly, almost torturously, and the Duke responded to it by thrusting his hips forward through Thomas' hand, eager for friction. He moaned breathlessly as Thomas kissed his shoulder and the side of his neck, then at last he came, letting out load after load of his warm and white semen. Thomas didn't stop touching him until he became soft and limp.

As the Duke was recovering, Thomas washed his hands, then wet a cloth and used it to wipe the Duke's semen off the floor. He then walked toward the tub and filled it with warm water. Philip watched; Thomas amused him; he certainly was different.

"I must admit, I'm pleased that my valet had not been here. You're far more... Amusing," Philip said.

"I suppose I should be a good replacement," Thomas responded, hoping to put ideas into Philip's head. 'Perhaps I would be a perminant replacement if you asked it of me... If I were to think of leaving Downton...' he thought, hopefully.

"Indeed," replied the Duke.