AN: Warning! This chapter contains smut. I'm not saying it's good smut, but it is there, so don't read on if you're offended by such writing. For those of you brave enough to venture on I really am rubbish at writing smut, but this story quite obviously calls for it. Don't say I didn't warn you...

Thomas closes the door behind him, relieved to have gotten here without getting caught. His Lordship's not in the bed. He's sitting at the small desk, his back to the door, writing. It seems a strange thing to be doing at this hour.

"My Lord," Thomas says softly to announce his arrival.

"Come," His Lordship says beckoning Thomas to his side. Thomas crosses the room and stands beside the other man. He looks down to where he's moving his pen across the paper, composing a letter. The soft glow of the candlelight falls on his face, but it gives nothing away. "I thought to finish this while I waited," His Lordship says, signing his name at the bottom of the letter. He sets the pen down and finally looks at Thomas.

"Then you were expecting me," Thomas states, resting his hand on His Lordship's shoulder as a test.

"Of course," His Lordship acquiesces.

xxx

Is it worth the risk? It's a little late to be asking himself such a question when Thomas is already here, at Robert's request no less. Robert looks up at the other man's face. Thomas who is so careful to hide what he's feeling can't disguise the raw need Robert sees in his eyes now. It's a look that makes Robert's heart rate climb it's been a long time since Robert felt needed. He reaches up and covers the other man's hand with his own.

"I'm afraid I was terribly rude in London, I think that's perhaps why you were upset with me that night I stumbled into the servant's hall."

"Not exactly..."

"Even so, I'd like to return the favour. That seems only fair, don't you think?" All Thomas can do is a nod, a barely perceptible duck of his head. It's enough. Robert reaches forward and fumbles with Thomas' trousers, whether it's nerves or ineptitude he can't decide. It feels like an eternity that he struggles with the contraption, though in reality it's probably only moments.

"If you'll allow me?" Thomas looks down at him with amusement shining in his eyes, his lips stretched in a poorly veiled smile.

"Yes, very well," Robert huffs, perturbed at his own inadequacy and hopeful it ends here. Thomas makes quick work of the difficult clothing, seeming to forget for a minute that this isn't just another task he's been asked to perform, but that it's something he's allowed to enjoy too. He remembers it though when Robert eases his underwear down and exposes his arousal. It's been years since he was this close to another man's penis and at Eton they'd only ever used hands. But Thomas had used his mouth and Robert wants to give back what he's received. He slides his arms around Thomas' body and draws him closer. He tries to kiss the organ like one would a mouth but it bobs around uncontrollably. He brings his hand up to steady it and presses kisses to the soft skin. Above him Thomas groans with unsatisfied need, Robert knows he's not doing this right. He swallows his pride and asks.

"Any pointers? I think I'm making a complete mess of this."

"In your mouth. Put it in your mouth and suck." There's a look on Thomas' face Robert never seen before. His eyes are wild, his pupils large and his composure is gone. That impeccable control is slipping away, it excites Robert, spurring him on. He wants to see how undone he can bring this guarded man. He does as Thomas said, opening his mouth and guiding Thomas' flesh into the hot cavern. He seals his lips around the phallus and sucks. His tongue rolls over the tip, which leaks Thomas' essence into his mouth. This is all so strange, and strangely erotic. The bitter, salty liquid serves to remind him what an unusual position he's in and Robert is determined to relish this.

"On your knees," Thomas commands and Robert slides off the chair, his knees hitting the hard floor, and he presses himself against Thomas' legs. With no space between them he resumes his attentions, wanting now to milk Thomas dry. He pulls those first few inches into his mouth and Thomas' hand tangles in his hair, pushing him forward, forcing him to take more of the shaft into his mouth. At first it's thrilling, but then it's too much. He can't fit anymore, he chokes and pulls away, saliva dripping down his chin.

"A moment?" Roberts requests, he'd like a clear headed moment to think about how to tackle this.

"No." Robert cannot argue with that kind of certainty, he'll figure it out as he goes. He casts his mind back to London and finds a memory of Thomas head bobbing up and down and Robert does his best to mimic that action now. Thomas understands his intention and assists by thrusting his hips forward. After a few awkward stokes they find a rhythm and Thomas' fingers dig forcefully into Robert's shoulders as he spills his seed. The suddenness shocks Robert and his body's his first instinct is to spit, he ends up swallowing most of it though. When he gets his body under control, he takes a moment to consider. He can't imagine the state of his current appearance and he searches his shirt pocket for a handkerchief to at least tidy himself a little. He doesn't want to kiss Thomas with all manner of fluid dripping down his chin. Apparently though it won't be an issue. Thomas is hastily arranging himself, hurriedly doing up his trousers.

"You're going?"

"I should, we don't want to get caught."

"No, I suppose not..." Robert agrees, not that he was anywhere near finished with the under-butler. Thomas nods and slips quietly out of the room and Robert can't help but think there was so much more to say.

AN: So yeah, sorry about that...