a/n: I don't own any characters of downton abbey, not about downton abbey at all. This story is just pure fun. I'm trying to keep the events of the show entwined with the story the best I can but there will be some difference with timeline and scenes to fit the story and plot. Please also note that English is not my first language so even after proofreading there is bound to be mistakes, especially when it comes to sentence structure. I hope you enjoy this regardless, and there will be a sequel to this story (if not even a third part) later on.
The Great War
Mid-November 1917
Matthew held a small pile of letters, one from his mother, one from Mary speaking of her engagement to Sir Richard Carlisle, Lavinia sending her photo and her longing for him. Then there was a neatly wrapped package with a writing upon it that Matthew knew far too well. He had saved the best for last. Beneath the brown paper was a book Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit. Matthew flipped the book back and forth, looking at cover and back, wondering why Thomas would send him something without a note attached, or perhaps it had been lost in the post — the reason for the lateness of all letters as of lately.
As Matthew opened the book he smiled to himself where he sat in the trenches — there was a letter there. There was no one near him, William was looking at the photograph of his own sweetheart, Daisy. So Matthew opened the envelope and held the letter close to the lantern for him to read words he had been longing to hear.
"Darling,
I am now an Acting Sergeant and managing the convalescent home that Downton has turned into. It sure has rubbed Mr Carson the wrong way, not being able to have control over me and I cannot say my tongue has always been pleasant. What happened to Edward struck me harder than I thought — me and Sybil both, that his life felt so beyond repair he left us by his own hand. She still treats me with such kindness and strangely enough, so did Mrs Crawley before she left; she had been trying to get His Lordship and Her Lordship to have me sit with them for dinner as a sign of gratitude towards my management. She was not successful before she left to aid the red cross in France. Mr Bates has once again left, Anna is distraught and it will make you pleased to know, sweetheart, that I have held my tongue for I relate to her pain more than she will know; I cannot taunt her for a broken heart, can I?
As much as I keep busy I cannot help to constantly long for France and for you, fearful that a letter will arrive to say you have died. It's been nearly a year since the battle in 1916 and when I lick my lips I can still taste you upon them, feel you in my throat. Most of all I miss just your company and I dread not having one more day with you. Beware of a gun to your head, since I cannot be there to shoot another one dead.
I imagine you are now confused over the book I sent but it holds the quote from which 'all is fair in love and war' hail from but look at the silver binding of things and find what yearns for you the most, with a heart screaming all the way to keep you company in the trenches.
All is fair in love,
T"
Matthew read the last bit again, a bit puzzled by it — look for the silver binding, surely it was meant to say silver lining? Matthew folded the letter up and put it in his pocket, examining the book and to his surprise, the inner bindings of the book had a silver border across it — it hadn't been just encouraging words.
"Thomas, you do know how to be sneaky" Matthew smiled to himself as his fingers grazed over the binding and felt something uneven underneath it. He took his field knife out and carefully opened the bottom of it. From it a photograph slipped out; almost falling into the mud but Matthew caught it at the very last moment. There he was Thomas Barrow, sitting so perfectly still in the picture — it was almost scary how it reminded him of how perfectly still and straight Thomas stood as a footman. Matthew dabbed his eyes with his gloved hand before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the picture. It was all he needed, the face of Thomas Barrow with him in the trenches.
"Lavinia sent a photo, Captain Crawley?" William pocketed the picture of his own sweetheart and Matthew quickly tossed the picture into the book; shoving it into the inside pocket of his army jacket.
"Yes she did, what a sweetheart she is" Matthew lied with a punch of guilt to his stomach. He stood up and hung his rifle from his shoulder. "It is time for our patrol, William, make sure your rifle is working before we leave."
"Still seems odd for us to just go on patrol, Captain" William said and checked his weapon.
"I take orders from higher commands, just like you, and we were told to go on patrol" Matthew said and William questioned it no further as they set out.
Downton Abbey
Mid-November 1917
"Lady Edith, can I ask you something?" Daisy said and Thomas stopped outside the door, peeking through the crack of it and pressing his ear closer to hear what Daisy could possibly want to bother Lady Edith with. Though what he heard sent chills down his spine, Matthew and William had not shown up for their leave? Thomas went paler than he normally was and sweat formed in his palm. It must just be a mistake, leave can often be cancelled when on duty — there was surely nothing abnormal about it, was there?
Thomas made his way back to the servants' hall and stepped out through the door where he found O'Brien smoking as well.
"It's fun to watch Mr Carson tense up each time he tries to put you in your place, only to realise he cannot" She said and took another drag from the cigarette, giving Thomas one of her nasty grins.
"Not as fun as watching you pine over that loony" Thomas did not know why he had said that, it was not Mr Lang's fault — he had been wounded just like Thomas, suffered greater than Thomas.
"Don't be nasty about Mr Lang" O'Brien said defensively "And don't forget who arranged for you to manage over the convalescence home, actively getting you to rise in ranks."
Thomas fell silent and took a long drag from his cigarette. He didn't apologise but said nothing else nasty either which, coming from Thomas, was as close to an apology most would get out of him.
"Did you hear Daisy worry about William, she thinks he is missing" Thomas said and tried to sound nonchalant prodding O'Brien if she had heard Daisy speak more on this down in the kitchens.
"I hope he is alright, regardless of what you say, he isn't a bad lad" O'Brien put her cigarette out and left Thomas to stand in the autumn cold by himself.
O'Brien was right, no matter what Thomas had said and done, William had done nothing bad but Thomas ache and worry was concentrated on one person and one person alone; Matthew Crawley.
Everything was being prepared for the concert to take place but Thomas was working in a haze; trying to listen into any conversation Lord Grantham had to find out more and in the midst of a phone call, the look on Lord Grantham's face said it all. Thomas walked up to him, stood tall and straight.
"Any news on William, your Lordship?" He asked in a stern army-like voice.
"Ah, Sergeant, I guess Daisy spread the worries downstairs as well, I did not know you and William were close, I got the impression it was on the contrary." Lord Grantham said somberly.
"In war we are all brothers in arms, your Lordship. Me, William and even Captain Crawley" Just saying Matthew's name stung like the bullet through his hand, yet depending on the answer he did not know if it would be more painful.
"They are both presumed missing from their patrol." Lord Grantham informed Thomas "Please, keep it between us, I don't think Mary can bare to hear such news — not yet"
Thomas nodded and dismissed himself. When he left the room he was breathing heavily, cursing in his mind. To hell with Mary, to hell with them all — for none knew, no one knew who truly yearned for Matthew. It was Thomas. Thomas had held Matthew in the trenches, soothing each other in the horrors of war. Mary did not know, she had not seen the trenches nor heard the screams in the night. Thomas and Matthew had shared it all and in the privacy of the dugout they had fallen in love.
Thomas walked past Sybil who tried to call out for him but Thomas just walked out, past the large gravel pathway, towards the trees. Away from anyone who could see or hear him. Hidden behind the trees of the estate he let it out. Matthew was missing; so many went missing in the war and were never seen again to only be presumed dead. His head was spinning and he slipped down a tree, kicking the root in front of him and Thomas wept. If he had been there with Matthew instead of William, Matthew would have been kept safe. William had let Matthew vanish from him, let them both go missing.
"Mattea was to cover up the real name, wasn't it Thomas?" Sybil's kind voice said as she kneeled before the crying Sergeant who nodded.
"It's Matthew, isn't it?" She asked, sounding as kind as only Sybil could while asking such a question of unlawful conduct, and involving her cousin and heir to the title.
Thomas picked at his glove but made a small nod, quickly wiping away his tears, to look up at Sybil dressed in her nurse uniform.
"I can't pretend I am taken aback, but I cannot say I am without forbidden longings myself." She took Thomas' hand with her own. If she was taken aback, she was hiding it well for Thomas sake — she seemed perfectly calm. "He is just missing, he will return"
"It can go from presumed missing to presumed dead in a heartbeat, Sybil" Thomas said quietly.
"We must not give up hope, Thomas, that he and William will return" She said and patted Thomas hand before standing up, then offering him help to his feet.
"Why are you not disgusted, spitting at my feet, saying how I manipulated your cousin into my arms and sinful ways?" Thomas asked and accepted the aid up.
"I believe in a God but the rest is just formalities, to love thy neighbour but cast them away if they don't follow his every word? Do this and that or burn in hell? Besides, love cannot be wrong. I don't believe that a father, in the end, would truly do that to their children" Sybil linked her arm with Thomas' as they began the walk back to the estate.
"You mustn't have met my pa then." Thomas said with a lopsided smile. "May I give you some advice, Sybil, if you don't find it imprudent of me, about your own love?"
"Thomas, we are friends, when the uniforms are on there are no such boundaries between us, much to father's disapproval and Mr Carson's" She said cheerily and gave Thomas arm a squeeze as they stepped over root and rock together.
"If you love him, really love him, if your future will be happy with his love — then take to Ireland and away from here." Thomas said with Sybil falling quiet behind him "In Ireland you can be Mrs Branson and he Mr Branson, without judgemental, I wish I could have the same"
"Thank you kindly Thomas, for your words but I cannot leave, if I so wished, before the war is over" She said.
"Then let us hope the end is near" Thomas said and they walked up the steps to the grand house where Lady Sybil gave Thomas a kiss on the cheek.
"I shall take your words to heart if you take mine, love does not come easily and whatever troubles you might face, make sure to love true." Sybil said and walked back inside to finish the preparations for the concert.
Thomas stood at the very back with the servants' to watch what must have been the most insufferable entertainment he had ever seen. From poor jokes to Major Bryant's terrible magic tricks. It wasn't just due to his growing anxiousness that he thought so, it was absolutely appalling, and he didn't know if everyone else laughed and applauded out of kindness. Thomas could not even find a way to do that. Finally the torture was over and Major Bryant took his seat.
Lady Mary stood and began to speak, but Thomas didn't listen to her words. Lady Mary just caused him irrational anger. Lord Grantham's words had not been about Lady Mary worrying for Matthew as a cousin and friend; Thomas was not stupid — foolish at times but he was not stupid.
"I give you the Crawley Sisters" Thomas caught the last words Lady Mary spoke before her singing cut into him like rusty daggers. France was back on his mind for the song she serenaded the soldiers with was the one Matthew had sung in the dugout as they danced, laughed and shared a first kiss. Thomas took a few deep breaths, looking at the marvelous ceiling above and hoped gravity would let his tears fall back to their canals. Then everything fell silent and the singing died out. He heard chairs moving and a few gasps.
Thomas' neck turned so fast it cracked and from what he saw his heart was elevated to the sky above. There stood Matthew, William by his side, alive and well. There was not a scratch on his body and his handsome uniform was neat. There seemed to physically be nothing wrong with him.
"My very dear boy!" Lord Grantham rushed to Matthew and shook his hand.
Matthew shook it back but seemed awkward that he had interrupted the song. He could feel Thomas' eyes pierce his back as he walked up towards Mary who looked at him like an angel sent from above. Though her gaze was nothing compared to the gaze of Thomas Barrow.
"I would say such wonderful things to you…." Matthew continued the song and took a place next to Mary who looked positively radiating but Matthew's eyes fell upon Thomas, the Acting Sergeant in the back. Even from afar Matthew could see how his eyes glistened with tears he tried to conceal with his head tilted forwards. He looked at Matthew through eyelashes with irises of the most stunning grey and there was the happiest smile, that Thomas tried to hide by clenching his jaw. There was no use, Matthew had already seen it all.
Thomas scratched his nose with his thumb and swayed a little in his spot as in the room right now it was only Matthew's blue eyes and no one else. "If you were the only girl in the world and I were the only boy" Thomas Barrow felt those words directed straight at his heart and with the loud applause at the end of the song he could let out a loud sigh of relief. Matthew gave Mary a slight nod and a smile before he was hugged and kissed on the cheek by the rest of the Crawley's. Over Sybil's shoulder Matthew's eyes found Thomas' again and Thomas held up his cigarettes in plain view — telling Matthew exactly where he would be waiting for him.
It took awhile but Thomas didn't mind, he knew it would, for everyone wished to greet Matthew back — at least he was back. He heard the sound of boots on gravel and, from behind the wall that shielded the servants' entrance to the rest of the house, Matthew's smiling face appeared. His bright blue eyes and blonde hair, squished underneath his hat, gazed at the chain-smoking Sergeant. Thomas lost his breath and his heart thumped the sound of victory. It didn't take the two long to be face to face and Thomas glanced around before he shoved Matthew against the wall and kissed him with such fierce passion only nearly a year apart could bring to two lovers. Matthew's hat was knocked over and Thomas' hands came to grip and tug at the blonde locks before they ran down Matthew's face, neck and chest.
They pulled away at the sound of the door opening on the other side of the wall and he heard Mrs Patmore shout for Daisy to hurry up with putting the buckets outside. Though they burst out in childlike laughter after the servants' door was shut and their foreheads came to rest together.
"I thought you dead, Matthew Crawley" Thomas spoke quietly, his fingers giving Matthew's tie a small tug.
"You cannot be parted from me that easily" Matthew sighed with happiness and then looked past Thomas and towards the forest before glancing back at Downton Abbey. "I have to be in London tomorrow, but tonight is ours"
Matthew peaked around the wall to make sure no one stood there and then he offered Thomas his arm. "Would you join this love-sick warrior for a stroll and I will explain what happened?"
Thomas linked his arm with Matthew and with their heads resting together they began walking to the secluded forest where Thomas had broken down earlier in the day. It seemed so silly now, everyone's reaction, for Matthew had only been lost because he was not wounded and the camp he and William had found themselves in had not reported it. They kept walking through the woods, far from houses and Downton. They shared stories, stories they hadn't had time to put into letters yet.
Matthew still did not share, however, about his engagement and he didn't know if Thomas had heard of it from someone else, but since the Acting Sergeant didn't ask any questions Matthew did not bring it up. He did not want their one and only night in nearly a year to be of thoughts of Lavinia. Nor did he wish it to be about the brewing sin within him, the sin he and Thomas shared. For they were not in the trenches anymore, they were in Downton, and there was one less excuse for what they were doing. Though the war was still going on, and that soothed Matthew's church-embedded words of the sin of sodomy — because all he wished for was to sin with Thomas right now.v
The two stopped in front of a shed that looked like it was standing on its last legs and Thomas furrowed but Matthew took his hand and led him inside; closing the door behind. It smelled almost like the trench they had shared, it bore the horrid similarities of the dugout they had hid in.
"What are we doing in this shed, Matthew?" Thomas asked but was met with forceful lips to his and the more calloused hand, than he remembered, of Matthew on his neck.
"Can you smell the trench?" Matthew asked with his lips still pressed to Thomas' "The dugout in France and our private business behind closed doors?"
Thomas took Matthew's face in his and pulled the man away just slightly to let his eyes fall upon Matthews'. "All I thought of was France and our last kiss" Thomas pressed his lips to Matthew's forehead.
"My darling Thomas, let us pretend we are back there" Matthew begged and gripped Thomas' biceps.
"We can be anywhere you want." Thomas spoke softly and their lips met once again, crashing into each other and drinking everything they had missed. There were tears falling from both of their eyes and down their cheeks — lovers reunited after a long time. Hands fumbled in the darkened shed but each touch was a comforting familiarity they both had been starved from. Their uniforms went flying, their boots kicked away and banged against the wooden wall. Thomas' lips fell to Matthew's neck and brought out sweet sounds he had only heard in his dreams since their parting. Matthew brought Thomas' wounded hand to his lips and kissed the mangled palm and hardened tissue. It was not long before their trousers joined the rest of their clothes and that's when they pulled away again.
Thomas' eyes tried to adjust to see everything Matthew presented before him — from head to toe, from thigh to hardened member. "There it is, the only beauty in a grim world…" Thomas spoke loving words and reached out to trace a finger down Matthew's chest and Matthew's hand caressed Thomas' hip.
It was surprising then, to Thomas, that Matthew dropped out of view and onto his knees. Those summer-sky eyes looked up at the panting Sergeant and Matthew took his erection in his hand. "I don't know what I am doing."
Thomas shook his head and ran his hand through Matthew's hair. "Whatever you will do will feel perfect to me…."
Matthew leaned forward, a little hesitant at first. He was completely inexperienced at this. It had been one thing to impulsively grind each other to completion, or let Thomas' take charge — and it was also a step further down the circles of hell. There is no god in war Matthew told himself.
"Matthew, there is absolutely no ne—-" Thomas was shut up by a wet mouth taking his swollen head. His head banged hard against the wall behind him and he let a moan pass his lips; at first he tried to muffle it but they were not in the trenches now. There were no soldiers outside of this shed and the wildlife would not speak of their secret to anyone. So Thomas let go in a way he never could have before. Each moan grew louder and louder and the further Matthew dared taking Thomas into his mouth the reaction became grander.
Matthew had never heard Thomas in this way before, completely letting everything out, in the safety of quiet forests. What he didn't dare fit into his mouth his hand stroked; doing things he never thought he would — and with Thomas Barrow. There were many things he did with this man he never thought he would; like falling in love with a man.
It would not take Thomas long to reach a long awaited orgasm, not with Matthew's innocent lips wrapped around his cock and letting his shaft explode it. Thomas kept his hips still, knowing very well that a thrust could send Matthew choking and spitting. The terribly cold night didn't penetrate the shed, nor their skins, for they carried warmness in their love. A warmness no one could understand; nor could anyone carry such love for Matthew — only Thomas.
"Matthew...Matthew" Thomas began moaning and then he pulled his erection away from the Captain's mouth, stopping his climax before he reached it. Matthew looked confused; wondering if he had done something wrong.
"Take me, like I took you, take me body…." Thomas whispered and kneeled before Matthew, kissing him deeply and tasting himself upon Matthew's tongue.
"I don't…" Matthew moaned into the kiss when Thomas' hand came to caress his erection "I don't k-know how…"
"I don't care, I want you to feel me as I am…" Thomas whispered against their kiss and gave Matthew's head a squeeze, bringing a moan from Matthew's lips before laying himself down on the chilled floor, with his legs spread and inviting Matthew in between them.
"I have no vaseline" Matthew said but Thomas just smiled and popped himself up on his elbow and brought Matthew's fingers to his mouth. He closed his lips around them, twirling his tongue around the knuckles, coating them up with all the saliva his mouth still held.
"I am used to it" Thomas admitted and he could have sworn he saw a flicker of jealousy in Matthew's blue eyes. Thomas guided Matthew between his legs and then hooked his knee over Matthew's shoulder, only to bring his fingers to his entrance.
"You're used to it?" Matthew bit down on his lower lip, trying to sound nonchalant but the devilish grin on Thomas' lips told him he had not succeeded.
"Then take me, Matthew, take me and erase the others…" Thomas let go of Matthew's fingers and let him decide what to do, while Thomas' whole body trembled with anticipation. He didn't have to wait for long because he felt two fingers penetrate him. Of course it stung, but this was Matthew Crawley's fingers stinging him. Thomas' eyes glanced up at the man above, pushing further into him and he could tell there was still uncertainty of what to do. So Thomas' gripped his wrist, guided the fingers, helping his sweetheart the best he could.
Matthew did not forget what Thomas had done to him the night Thomas had taken him. He could recite Thomas finding that spot within him in his mind and, with the helping hand of Thomas, he wanted to find it inside of him. It was not until Thomas' hips jolted upwards, from where Matthew had just pressed, that Matthew was left to his own devices. Thomas was pressing both his palms to his forehead; his grey eyes still fixated upon Matthew's face behind his sweaty blonde locks. Matthew did the same movement once again and Thomas' cried out below him; he had found that spot that Thomas had thrusted into on Matthew. Now Matthew understood what Thomas had seen that night; he was watching what could not be described — the begging of more from Thomas' hips, his clenched stomach and face that read pleasurable frustration.
Matthew pulled his fingers back and Thomas nodded eagerly, lowering his legs to wrap them high up on Matthew's torso instead. Matthew spat furiously into his palm until a pool of saliva it held that he touched to his own erection. Thomas' legs were urging Matthew forward, it seemed he was unable to feel empty much longer.
"I shall erase them all…" Matthew whispered as he lowered himself closer to Thomas, blending their sweat together on their foreheads and pushed himself past the first tightness, did what Thomas had done, stopped — and Matthew was glad he did for he imprinted this moment like a photograph in his mind. He carved it into his veins so he'd never forget; for nothing could ever feel like this again and nothing could look as astoundingly breathtaking as Thomas' face when he realised Matthew Crawley was inside of him.
Thomas' had lost his breath at the feeling and he was certain this night would erase anyone that had filled him up before Matthew Crawley. He didn't wish to remember anyone before this. Thomas' was the first one to move his hips, lowering himself onto Matthew's erection, as Matthew seemed paralysed by the feeling. Soon all of Matthew was buried within him, everything Matthew could give Thomas was inside of him and it was more than enough; it was a feeling to outshine the stars themselves.
Then the thrusts began to prove Thomas' wrong. The movements were slow and Matthew came crashing upon Thomas' chest as he pushed out and into him. Their moans were louder than the sound of skin hitting skin. This time it was Thomas' turn to moan 'I love you' over and over again. This caused the thrusts to speed up, to dig and explore, to be taken further aback to come crashing inside of Thomas' once more. The Sergeant screamed into the night as Matthew found the spot his fingers had prodded before.
Matthew forced himself up on his hands, just so he could watch what he was doing to Thomas, a novice as he was, but it seemed to matter little to Thomas; for his face read the pleasure Matthew also felt. It was so tight around him, it was tight and wet, it was him being inside of Thomas Barrow. Their lips became hungry and they crashed together to satisfy their starved mouths. Their moans and cries fed each other; Matthew's hands dug into the skin upon Thomas' hips and Thomas' began to move erratically fast against Matthew's.
"D,Don't let this end…" Thomas begged into the kiss and his hands came to claw down Matthew's back, feeling the sweat rolling down the spine until his hands found Matthew's buttocks. "Not yet...Not yet" Thomas pleaded with himself. No matter how much he begged he knew completion was nearing for both of them. Their thrusts became involentarly fast and somewhat sloppy as their orgasms reached their peak.
"Thomas!" Matthew cried
"M-Matthew!" Thomas screamed in return and they both shouted into the night, scaring foxes and birds away.
Matthew spilled himself within Thomas and the sticky substance from Thomas' erection stuck between their chests.
With exhaustion Matthew laid himself down on Thomas and did not pull himself out until he was completely limp.
Thomas ran a hand through his sweaty, messed up hair, and then leaned down to wrap his arms around Matthew. His yearning heart satisfied to be with him, even if it was just one night. It was one night more than it could have been, if he truly had been missing. Thomas pulled himself to sit with his back against the wall and Matthew settled to lean his back against Thomas' chest. Thomas reached for his trousers and found his cigarettes within. Once it was lit and he had taken the first drag he draped his arm over Matthew's chest and kissed the crown of his head.
"Sure won't think of anything else until I see you again" Thomas said bittersweetly. "Why are you going to London?"
Matthew was silent and just felt Thomas' breathing move against his shoulder blades. How could he begin to explain? He hadn't wished to, not on this night, but he couldn't lie to Thomas.
"If I tell you, promise you won't go all Thomas Barrow, vile footman on me" Matthew said and closed his eyes.
"My, my, it must be bad then, going to that sweetheart?" Thomas teased but the silence was enough of a reply "Oh…" Thomas said and shook his head. "Don't worry, Captain Crawley, I can find another to share my bed with" He said nastily.
"I don't share my bed with anyone else!" Matthew pulled away from Thomas in anger, turning his head to hopefully once again to simply see Thomas, the footman with an attitude and stuck up nose, and he did — but even so, it was his Thomas and a nasty sentence, aimed to hurt, was not enough to have him erase his version of Thomas.
"I am engaged to be married" Matthew finally admitted and the cigarette fell from Thomas' hands. Matthew expected another jab, another sentence to wound greater than a bullet could. But it did not come, instead Thomas looked like a saddened puppy, with the inside of his eyebrows pressed together and raised.
"Is it the girl who kissed your cheek?" Thomas asked and Matthew nodded.
"But I didn't mean to get myself engaged, I am not sure how it happened" Matthew hurriedly explained.
"How can you not mean to get engaged? I can't say proposals are something I have done, but the question still needs to be asked, does it not?" Thomas pulled his knees to his chest and rested his forearms on them, taking drag after drag from his cigarette.
"Do you remember Captain Flintworth and the lie I told him about a sweetheart back home?" Matthew crossed his legs and then rested his own arms on top of Thomas', gazing straight at him with an urgent need for him to understand how it all transpired.
"I remember you telling me so" Thomas said and put his cigarette out, moving his arm from underneath Matthew's to grab another.
"Apparently Captain Flintworth knows Lavinia's father, came to see him and congratulated him on Lavinia having such a gentleman courting her" Matthew sighed heavily "What only meant to be a quick lie to throw away suspicions for our deeds turned to me being invited to dinner once again and at the end of the night Mr Swire had arranged our engagement."
"You could have argued against him, aren't you a solicitor as well?" Thomas said and blew smoke out through his nose.
"It was so fast I did not realise it had happened until I stood on the pavement and stepped into my car. I am supposed to be a gentleman — how does a gentleman break a promise of marriage easily?" Matthew almost wished Thomas had an answer, even if the question was rhetorical.
"I am used to it, I did not think you'd stay a bachelor for my sake forever" Thomas flicked the second cigarette away and was about to reach for a third one when Matthew's hand stopped his wrist. Thomas looked everywhere but at Matthew "But a boy can dream, can he not? Now you will soon have everything you were brought up to have — a wife and family in the great house of Downton Abbey." Thomas said bitterly, for Matthew could have everything Thomas never could and it was clear to him that he could not fully have Matthew either. Then he blinked, realising something "How long have you been engaged for?"
Matthew sighed heavily "since the leave I took, the leave before the battle that—-"
Thomas shook his head and looked utterly enraged. He stood up, opened his mouth, closed it again — as if he could not find words for his anger. "You have been engaged for nearly a year?! You were engaged when I laid my life on the line to save yours?!" Thomas couldn't believe what he had heard, his heart was aching beyond belief — he felt utterly broken.
Matthew let tears fall down his cheeks, he could not believe the hurt he had caused the man he loved. Though he needed to stay calm, he needed Thomas to understand. Matthew rose to his feet and his hand reached out to gently touch Thomas' arm, but it was janked away. "Her picture is not the one I carried with me into patrol, it's not the picture I smiled when I saw" Matthew said, still in a calm and tender voice, and then he bent down to retrieve his jacket and the book from within it. "I don't have a solution for any of this Thomas, but when I read your letters it feels as if you are with me, once again, in the trenches — you're the one my heart yearns for as well, the one I love" Matthew opened the book and showed Thomas' the picture of him. Right there it would have been so much easier for Matthew if they had ended, but his heart could not do so. Instead he wanted Thomas to know that in his heart there was only one person.
"I wish I could return to loathing you, Matthew Crawley" Thomas said, turning around, looking at Matthew for a moment and then leaned forwards to cup his cheek — Matthew was still the man he loved.
"You used to loathe me?" Matthew put his hand on top of Thomas'
"To serve on you, for if a servant was all I would ever be then I might as well serve great Lords and Ladies" Thomas brushed their lips together, feeling his own tears beginning to fall "I wasn't destiant for more, I'm just a silly Manchester boy wired differently"
"And I was nothing but a Manchester solicitor before Patrick Crawley died" Matthew said softly and they both sat back down on the floor, resuming the previous position with Matthew between Thomas' legs.
"I don't think I will be alive to see when a man like me can marry his sweetheart" Thomas said and draped his arm around Matthew to pull him close to his chest and breathe in his hair. Though Thomas was wounded by knowing Matthew was engaged, it hurt him deeply and his anger was not fully subdued, but it was him sitting here with Matthew Crawley, wasn't he? It was not Lavinia, it was not Lady Mary; it was Thomas Barrow and that was a little comfort. Thomas' didn't seem to be able to be vile towards Matthew either, not truly, nor could he speak in anger, not like he could with the snap of his fingers to others he thought deserved it, even though they did not.
"When did you know?" Matthew asked and sunk into Thomas' arms, not knowing how much comfort he also needed before London and the trenches.
"That there was something different?" Thomas rested his cheek to the side of Matthew's head and the blonde hair tickled against his lips. "When the priest condemned by thoughts and I thought them still, when my father sent me away as a lad to an asylum where they tried to fix my thoughts and make me like the other's….when his cruel hand came striking down when I returned and still carried these urges and thoughts"
Matthew breathed heavily, he had understood that Thomas' hadn't lived a good life for he never spoke of before he came to Downton, but he didn't know it had been so cruel — and it gave more explanation to Thomas and his behaviour to others. It saddened Matthew and reminded him of how cruel the world towards someone like Thomas — would it be as cruel to him if they were to find out his yearning heart? A prison cell would await him and judgment from all he met. He was sure beatings would come along as well. Then why did he do this, why did he risk it all when he wasn't completely wired like Thomas was, was he? Or had he just blamed those thoughts away too, like he blamed away his love for Thomas Barrow.
The answer came from the tightening of Thomas' arms and how it made his heart pound. It was the yearning he could not ignore, that's why he risked it. As long as it was behind closed doors and no one saw, who would suspect them at all? A former footman and Matthew Crawley? If anyone told Lord Grantham he would throw them out for their slander. No, no one would believe that Matthew Crawley held anything for another man — though the truth was that Thomas did hold him, and held it all.
They had fallen asleep sitting up. Thomas' head on top of Matthew's that rested on his chest. It was the morning birds that awoke them and awoke them to their departure. It was heavier than Thomas had thought because Matthew was now to go see the woman he was engaged to. Though Matthew had explained it all it was bittersweet, for marriage was not something they could ever share — nor children, no heirs. Though even if Thomas had been a woman it wouldn't have changed much, he was nothing but a servant masked as a Sergeant, a footman of Downton since he was eighteen years.
They dressed themselves in silence and Matthew ached too. Of course he wished to stay in this shed with Thomas rather than to go to London and pretend to be sweet on a girl he barely knew. Poor Lavinia, pulled into his lies; she was innocent in this all and thought she had found herself a gentleman Captain. Yet he hurt more for how Thomas felt, he could see it on the Sergeant's face; it was troubled and did not carry a daring smile like it usually did. It was not even stiff and lacking emotion; Thomas' face held more emotions than Matthew dared to know. All he knew was that he needed to somehow make it right, perhaps an excuse of war causing him and Lavinia falling out of love was enough of a gentleman way. That he was damaged from the war and wished not to burden her life — Matthew needed to untwine these lies he now found himself wrapped up in. Mostly he needed to do right by Thomas — was he really going to throw away marriage and children for this man? For now, at least.
They left the shed and the cold crept up on their faces. This is where they would part, yet again, and Matthew reached out to take a hold of Thomas' hand. What he was met by was a violent push of Thomas' body, pinning him to the door of the shed and a kiss that held both fire, desperation and claim. Thomas' wounded hand was pressed to the wood above Matthew's head and the other held onto his face. The kiss seemed to never end and Matthew gripped Thomas Barrow by his neck, clinging onto what few minutes they had left.
It was empty when they pulled away, they both felt the loss of contact deeply. Their eyes met and Thomas' touch returned to sweetness; with his thumb caressing Matthew's cheekbone. "For once in my life I wish to be enough, for me to be enough" Thomas said and pulled away and began walking in the opposite direction of Matthew's destination of Downton Village. Thomas pressed his palms to his eyes, drying them. Never had he wept so much for one man like he had for Matthew Crawley.
"It's the thought of you that keeps me warm, Thomas Barrow, and you are enough" Matthew said and began walking towards Downton Village. He was due for the early London train but he could not leave things like this, not with the uncertainty of war — he could not leave Thomas' in such despair. Matthew did not know when they would meet again, a year or two? Longer? Never? If no man's land would claim him he did not wish for Thomas to wander his life not understanding that for one man, he was enough — if only the law and God would let it be so.
Matthew returned to the house and found it empty, of course it would be — his mother was helping the red cross. He had forgotten, there was only the cook and Molesley. He flung himself down in an armchair, sitting undignified as a gentleman, but everything about him was undignified at this point. It was true what Thomas Barrow had said, about the lingering taste in the mouth, because Matthew could taste it too — along with a comforting taste of tobacco.
He sat there until the clock rang out the hour. The hour for the shops to open and Matthew had figured out how he could make Thomas understand. So he went to his room and made himself look presentable. Tucking the hair behind his ears and adjusting his hat. Matthew stepped outside and was greeted with kind smiles from the villagers; watching Captain Crawley, defender of the crown and future Lord. It was thrilling, and shameful for Matthew to think so, that if they knew what lingered on his lips their smiles would cease to exist.
"He has been snappy all morning, that Sergeant Barrow" Matthew heard one of the maids say in the servants' hall.
"He called me a lazy sod for carrying blankets wrong!" The other maid exclaimed angrily.
"He has vile ways, Sergeant Barrow, give a man a uniform and it goes to his head!" Mrs Patmore sat down tea cups for the maids "He's always had a cheek to him, ever since he first arrived here."
Matthew didn't know why he smiled as he listened into their conversation. They were speaking ill of Thomas but somehow it warmed Matthew's heart that he could say 'not my Thomas'. He made his presence known by a cough and stepped into where the servants' dined. The maids stood up and threw nervous looks at each other.
"Captain Crawley" Mrs Patmore said, looking a bit flustered "To what do we owe the honour?"
"I need to speak to Sergeant Barrow before I depart for London, it's about an officer that will arrive tomorrow." He gave them warm smiles and Mrs Patmore pointed to the servants' entrance.
"Thank you Mrs Patmore" Matthew said and squeezed past her, reaching the door, and opening it.
Thomas jumped and tucked his letter away at the sound of the door opening, he had expected Daisy or Mrs Patmore, even O'Brien but instead there stood a man he believed to be on the train to London.
"Captain Crawley, why aren't you on your train?" He tried to say with a cold voice, but it cracked and Matthew smiled.
He took Thomas' hand and led him behind a wagon and crates, hiding them the best he could from any prying eyes. Matthew held out a brown envelope for Thomas to take. The Sergeant took it with confusion and opened it with the cigarette pinched between his fingers.
Thomas' fingertips reached inside and pulled out a photograph, a picture of Matthew sitting ever so still with a gentle smile upon his lips. Thomas blinked a few times before looking up at the real version of the man in the picture.
"I don't understand, Matthew." Thomas said and pulled the photograph out completely, his fingers tracing the glossy surface.
"I cannot leave with how everything was left, I cannot return to the trenches without you truly knowing—" Matthew turned the photograph over in Thomas' hand. There was a writing on the back that Matthew said out loud "For my yearning heart, you are enough"
Thomas read the words over and over again. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand before putting the treasured gift back into the envelope and tucked it into his pocket when Matthew's hand reached his cheek.
"Give me something to keep me warm in the trenches of war" Matthew pleaded with him and his wish became Thomas' command. They kissed, but not with hunger, it was as gentle as the breeze upon their cheeks. It was as loving as a lullaby to a babe in the night. Two men in their uniforms saying their sweet goodbyes.
"Don't be a fool, Matthew Crawley, and return to Downton alive" Thomas whispered and then gave Matthew one last kiss "think about my love for you in the cold nights."
"Don't forget the love equally shared by me, Thomas Barrow, my love is reserved for you alone." Matthew said back and then they parted ways. Not to see each other before the turmoils of 1918 would come crashing upon them.