by Ruby Moone
“Yes, sir, I mean no…sir…I mean…”
“I should be the one apologising,” Oliver said, getting off the bed and adjusting his nightshirt around his now wilting erection. “It’s been a long time for me,” he added for good measure. He couldn’t look back, couldn’t look at Daniel in that moment. He walked to the door and opened it.
“Sir?”
Daniel’s voice halted him, but he still could not turn around. He spoke facing away from him and the words hurt him. “You have my word as a gentleman that this will not happen again,” he said and rested his forehead on the door. His throat was almost too tight to speak.
“What are you talking about?” Daniel said behind him. He heard the bed creak and then Daniel was behind him. “If anyone should be apologising it should be me,” he said and laid a hand on Oliver’s arm. Oliver squirmed away from his touch. “Christ, I should be on my knees begging your forgiveness. Sir…what I did was…”
“Stop,” Oliver croaked, trying to banish the thought of Daniel on his knees. His cock was once again at a stand, aching and weeping. He turned and opened his eyes. The man stood an inch or so shy of his own six feet, all wiry compact muscle. Something of the aching misery and shameful need in his heart must have showed in his face because the taught anxious expression on Daniel’s face changed slightly and his chest heaved as he swallowed audibly.
“Is that what you want?” he whispered, eyes wide and wary. Oliver felt as though his heart would burst from his chest. If he was reading this wrong…but then Daniel reached out and touched his face. The smallest, briefest touch and then he jerked his hand back, but it was enough. With a groan that came somewhere from his soul Oliver slid a hand around the back of Daniel’s neck, pulled him in, and kissed him. Kissed him on the mouth in a way he had been dreaming of for years if he had only allowed himself to admit it. Instantly Daniel’s arms were around him again, tight, fierce, and crushing. The kiss was tentative for a second or two and then opened wide, wet, and deep as both men gave in and revelled in the taste and feel of each other. Oliver breathed in the scent and taste of Daniel as he crushed him tight and when Daniel pushed his hips against his, feeling the length of his erection pushed against his own, he almost shattered. Dragging his mouth free he drew in huge gulps of air and then, frantic, dragged his nightshirt over his head and took handfuls of Daniel’s until with a wriggle and a wary laugh they were naked in each other’s arms. Mouth to toe they pressed together and Daniel slammed him back into the door and rubbed his cock against his, pushing, thrusting, and after a moment Oliver matched the rhythm and they rocked and thrust almost painfully as they resumed the frantic, desperate kissing. As orgasm crept along his spine Daniel moaned into his mouth, gave several frantic thrusts, and then dragged his face away, eyes closed, face contorted as he cried in time with his frantic thrusts and spent himself all over Oliver’s stomach. Oliver’s heart stopped, every muscle clamped tight as he watched the man orgasm in his arms, against his body, and then his own climax ripped through him making him cry a long, low, keening sound of joy.
They clung together, trembling and sweating. Hearts pounding, legs like jelly. Daniel pushed his face into Oliver’s neck and Oliver kissed his temple.
“Christ,” Oliver muttered and kissed him again. Their bodies were still melded together, Daniel’s pale, hairless chest pressed against his own. The dusting of hair that covered his own body looked particularly dark against him. Daniel moved, surprising him when he backed away. He turned his back, rubbing one hand over the top of his head. Muscles rippled across his shoulders and his backside was taught and muscular. Oliver waited. He had no idea what to say, what to do, so he waited. Daniel was not the sort that could be rushed. He was quiet, steady, and intelligent as well as being remarkably stubborn. When Daniel stooped and picked up his nightshirt Oliver followed suit. Being clothed made things feel less exposed, even in just a nightshirt.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Daniel said.
“No need to be. Stop calling me sir.”
“What do you want me to call you?”
“How about Oliver.”
“Oliver.”
At the sound of his given name on Daniel’s lips his knees gave way and he had to sit on the side of the bed. He bowed his head and scrubbed his face. “So now you know.”
“Daniel sat beside him. “Know what?”
“The truth about me.” He couldn’t look Daniel in the face.
“What truth?”
At some level he registered the gentleness of Daniel’s words, and the touch of his hand, but Oliver wasn’t there anymore. Wasn’t in the bed chamber with the man he loved, he was hearing his father snarling at him as he beat him. He could only repeat those words.
“I’m a dirty, filthy, fucking sodomite.” He couldn’t say anymore, couldn’t stay to hear what Daniel might say. He shook off the hand that Daniel offered.
“Is that how you see me?”
Daniel’s words hit him with the force of a blow. “Dear God, no!” He turned and took Daniel’s shoulders in his hands. “Never think that. You are…you are beautiful. Perfect.”
“Well, I am exactly the same as you. I prefer men.”
Oliver was openmouthed with shock. “Why did you never say?”
“I presume for the same reason that you never did. And there is nothing dirty or filthy about what we just did. I refuse to believe that.”
Oliver stared at him. As if it were that simple. If only it were all so easy. He moaned softly. He was growing hard again just looking at him. He would remember that moment against the door until he died.
“Oliver?”
“What.”
“Take off your nightshirt.”
Oliver stared at him. Take off his nightshirt? Was the man mad? He watched in horrified fascination as Daniel stood up beside him and pulled his nightshirt over his head, leaving him gloriously naked. His cock stood stiff and proud, pointing at him. Oliver’s mouth went dry and his skin felt too tight.
“Do I look dirty or filthy to you?”
Oliver wanted to weep. “No.”
“Take off your nightshirt.”
Oliver stood feeling as if he were in a dream and pulled off the garment. He too stood naked with his cock bobbing in front of him, and the look in Daniel’s eyes almost undid him.
“I am exactly the same as you. I prefer men. I find looking at a man’s naked body arousing, as do you,” he said with a nod in the direction of Oliver’s groin. “Am I a dirty filthy fucking sodomite?”
Oliver smiled weakly. He adored him for what he was doing. “No, you are not.”
“Then neither are you.”
Daniel limped towards him and then surprised him by getting awkwardly to his knees in front of him. Oliver stared, hardly daring to breathe, and then Daniel put both hands on his hips and pulled him closer. Oliver swallowed, and cried out as Daniel took his cock in his hand and then slid his lips over the tip and sucked. The sound that came from Oliver’s throat was nothing like he had heard before, nor was the sensation of his cock being engulfed in the warmth of Daniel’s mouth. His eyes rolled and he took hold of Daniel’s head and held it as he sucked the entire length of his cock into his mouth. Oliver looked down at that pretty mouth stretched around his length and resisted the urge to thrust.
“Stop…” he whispered, pulling gently at Daniel’s head.
He pulled back and Oliver’s cock felt cold and bereft. “You don’t like it?”
“Too much. I want to do it to you.”
Daniel stared at him for a moment and then nodded. He stood up and Oliver towed him to the bed and when he had him laid back, he crawled up between his thighs. He buried his nose in Daniel’s groin, making the man laugh.
“That tickles,” he complained, but the sound turned to a high pitched moan when Oliver took him down. He moved, and sucked, and was thrilled at the notion that he had Daniel Simpson’s cock in his mouth. He worshipped it. Licking and sucking. Not that he had any experience of g
iving this, but he didn’t have to work too hard to imagine what would feel good. He pulled off when Daniel pushed at his shoulders. To his amazement Daniel sat up and pushed Oliver onto his back, and then lay on top of him settled between his thighs. Oliver stared up at him and smiled. Daniel stroked his hair for a moment and then leaned down to kiss him. His mouth was warm and soft, but the body pressing him into the mattress was hard and heavy. If he had ever thought of any encounter between them he had imagined he would lead, but now found himself drowning in the sensation of being held down, of being taken. He pulled up his knees and gripped Daniel’s thighs and Daniel rocked his hips and moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sound and thrust back. Daniel pulled his mouth away, angled his body slightly and then spit in his palm and grabbed both of their cocks together in a hard grip. Oliver was moaning and thrusting and as Daniel started pumping them together. The feel of their lengths pressed together was too much and he was shouting, pumping into Daniel’s hand and he came harder than he had ever done in his life. He was vaguely aware of Daniel following him and then collapsing onto him. They clung together. For a long time.
* * * *
Oliver awoke to find himself pressed up against Daniel’s naked back. He could hear the soft rhythmic breathing, feel the heat from his body. He smiled and pressed his lips to the skin of his shoulder. He managed to slide out of the bed without awakening him and padded back to his own chamber. His bed was cold and empty, but he held the memory of Daniel’s body tight to him and managed to sleep.
Morning found him sitting at the breakfast table toying with a piece of toast and contemplating the coffee pot. Daniel came through the door, hesitated, and then sat opposite him. The housekeeper brought them both plates of kippers and left them.
“How are you this morning?” Oliver asked without looking up from his plate.
“Well. You?”
“Fine.” Oliver’s heart was hurting.
They ate in silence with only the scrape of cutlery against porcelain for company.
Daniel ate half of his food and then put his knife and fork on the plate. “Can’t you even look at me?”
Oliver dragged his eyes up and looked at him. He was pale, eyes shadowed. He put his own utensils down. He had done that to him. Put the sad shadow in his eyes, given him that wary look. He knew what Daniel had said last night had made sense, but in the cold light of day all he could see what he had hurt the man that meant the most to him in the entire world.
“I’m sorry,” Oliver whispered.
Daniel sighed. “Not this again?”
Oliver looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“Are you going to descend into shame and guilt every time we fuck?”
“There won’t be a next time.”
“I see.” Daniel stood up from the table and dropped his napkin on his plate.
“Where are you going?”
“I am removing myself from your presence before I disgust you any further.”
Oliver could only watch as he stalked from the room as fast as his bad leg would allow. Oliver put his face in his hands. He needed air.
Chapter 5
He walked until noon and then headed back to the house in time for luncheon. His head was beginning to clear, and he was feeling more himself. He was surprised at just how much his father had influenced the way he felt about himself. He was shocked at the depth of shame that had swamped him, kept swamping him, but he began to think more in terms of how he could conduct a relationship with Daniel more than how much he needed to apologise. Based on the conversation over breakfast apologies would not be well received.
He sat in the parlour drinking tea. The housekeeper was entrenched in the kitchen, no doubt preparing luncheon, and as Oliver flicked through the correspondence that sat by his elbow he tried to work out what to say to Daniel. When the man failed to appear Oliver went to the small study, but there was no sign of him. A quick check through the suite soon revealed the fact that Daniel had disappeared. Oliver braved the kitchen and found Mrs. Dawsley humming as she pummelled what he could only presume was bread.
“Have you seen Mr. Simpson this morning?” he asked trying to look nonchalant.
Mrs. Dawsley looked up and dusted her hands on the pinafore that covered her dress. “Went out just after you did, sir. Didn’t say where.” She adjusted the dough on the table. “Would you like anything to eat?”
“No, thank you,” he said with a smile.
* * * *
By midafternoon Oliver was sitting in the study staring at the wall. Where had he gone? His chest hurt and his heart felt as though it was being strangled. If Daniel had been a woman, he would be on his knees begging for marriage. What the hell was he to do? His head ached and worry gnawed relentlessly at him. As the clock nudged on Oliver could bear it no longer. He went to Daniel’s room. He knocked and went in and of course it was empty. It was a futile thing to do, he knew that, but…Oliver stopped dead. The room was empty; completely empty. Devoid of all trace of Daniel’s existence. Oliver went to the drawers and yanked them open. Empty. He dragged open the cupboards; nothing. Heart pounding, he strode through the rooms and grabbed his greatcoat. He had no idea where to look, where he might go. He started to ask himself why Daniel would go but was forced to face the truth. Nausea swilled through his innards as he searched for his hat and gloves, but then the slamming of the front door stopped him dead.
Daniel stood in the hallway, eyes flitting around the room looking at everything but him.
Oliver straightened his spine and cleared his throat. “Are you leaving?” he asked. No point beating about the bush.
“Yes, sir, I…” Daniel’s voice faltered and he stared at the floor.
“For God’s sake man, will you stop calling me that?” Oliver snapped. “I am not your superior in any way and after what I did to you last night…” Oliver clamped a hand over his mouth and turned away. He couldn’t face seeing him. Couldn’t deal with the wanting; the sheer emotion of wanting. He got a grip, but it took everything that he had. “I will find you a position. A good one where you will have the chance to advance, and you can stay in London if you wish,” he said to the floor. He cleared his throat. “I can only pray that you will accept my abject apology.”
Silence ticked between them.
“Apology?” Daniel said eventually, his voice low and cautious.
“Yes.”
“You speak as though you did something that was against my will.”
Oliver managed to look up and meet his eyes. He at least owed him that.
“Well, wasn’t it?” he said and then had to stop speaking for a moment lest he betray himself completely. “Why else would you leave me?”
Daniel cleared his throat. “I was leaving because after what we did I cannot go back to how we were before.”
Oliver wondered for a moment if this feeling in his chest was what a broken heart felt like. Like someone had ripped away a part of one’s life that was essential, leaving a wound that would bleed forever. “Of course not,” he managed to say, his eyes on the floor again. “I understand completely,” he said, babbling now like a child. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath through his nose, determined to face this like a man. Daniel’s shoes came into his line of sight and he was forced to look up.
“Shall I tell you why I can’t go back?” Daniel said, now standing before him. Oliver smiled a little at that beloved face, those serious but determined blue eyes.
“You don’t need to,” he said and on impulse reached out and touched his arm. “You don’t need to say a word. I understand fully, my dearest friend. I would not hurt you or embarrass you for the world.”
Daniel’s jaw worked for a moment. “I cannot go back to how we were because I cannot be near you.”
That hurt. Dear God, that hurt. Oliver dropped his gaze and rubbed the now gaping wound in his chest.
Daniel caught his hand as it rubbed. “I cannot be near you and not touch you, kiss you…Want you…�
�� His voice dropped to a whisper.
Oliver’s heart stopped and then beat so hard his head swam. He couldn’t look up until his vision cleared. Daniel went on, “If I cannot sleep with you in my arms I don’t think I will ever be able to sleep again.” His voice was harsh now. “I want more than just rubbing you against the door or in my hand; I want to fuck you. Do you know what that means? Do you know what that entails with another man?” Oliver could see Daniel’s chest rising as his breathing became agitated. He managed to look up into his eyes. He held them as he went on. “I want you to fuck me. Oh, God, Oliver how I want you to fuck me. I have loved you for so long…it is me who should be offering abject apology, it is me who should leave and it is me who…”
Oliver cut off the words with his mouth. He laid his lips over Daniel’s gently.
“Shush,” he said as he pulled back and then kissed him again. Daniel responded immediately, making a soft sound at the back of his throat, and those hard arms came around him holding him tightly, as tightly as he remembered.
A noise from within the house wrenched them apart.
“Come,” Oliver said stroking Daniel’s face softly. “Come where we can talk without scandalising the servants.” They went to the study and Oliver locked the door behind them.
