8. Oscar
CHAPTER 8
OSCAR
Tonight was the night.
The Fitzwilliam-Smythe Christmas Ball was the social event of the year, according to his mother. She had arranged a date for him, and almost squealed like a schoolgirl when he’d said he was already seeing someone and would bring him to the party instead.
She’d peppered him with questions about his new beau, as she referred to him, but Oscar had kept her at bay by assuring his mother he came from good stock and was not a commoner. She seemed delighted to hear he had his own business. His mother had always believed in people working hard, and not just having everything handed to them.
Oscar and Gregory had agreed they would use this public event to take their fake relationship public, because if either of their families reacted badly, they would not do it with an audience. Once it was in the public domain, they planned to be seen together as much as possible over the festive period. There was another ball on New Year’s Eve, because of course there was, and they’d chosen then for the proposal to happen.
That gave them a month to register and prep for the wedding, which was short enough so neither of their mothers could meddle too much in the arrangements. Neither of them wanted a fuss. This was a business arrangement, and that was it. The thought didn’t feel right to Oscar – not that he wanted to marry Gregory for real – but they had a chemistry he’d never had with anyone before, and he wanted to explore it more. Gregory had been clear nothing else was going to happen between them in that way. Oscar had wanted to protest, but knew he wouldn’t get anywhere, and at least this meant they’d spend time together. Perhaps if Gregory got to know him as he was now, and not as the stupid kid he had been, they could at least come to the end of this arrangement as friends.
Before he had to get ready for the ball and collect Gregory, Oscar had a coffee date with Abby. She’d had a lot to say when he’d explained the arrangement, and apparently she wasn’t done because the place she had chosen was a coffee-shop chain with lots of noise. This would mean she could berate him without an audience; there was no other reason. His bestie might like to think she was down with the commoners, but with coffee she was a complete snob.
He walked into the coffee shop, which was bustling with tourists, and did a quick scan. One advantage of his height was that he could see everything. Abby waved at him and help up a coffee cup – she’d already gotten his order. The plan for him to waste time in the queue was out the window.
“Sit,” she said, arching an eyebrow.
“Should I be scared?”
“It’s me who’s scared.”
“What? Why?”
“I know you, Oscar. You wouldn’t do something like this just to get your mother off your back.”
“Well, no, I’m doing it for him as well.”
“You sure you’re not hoping this arrangement will turn into something more permanent?”
“What?” he spluttered. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
She stared at him, daring him to not break eye contact. Abby could be intense when she wanted to be.
“He’s made it clear that nothing can happen between us again, and I respect that.”
“Nothing has happened since his brother’s birthday party?”
Oscar felt his face heat.
“When?”
“Before I put the proposal to him.”
“Did you still have his come inside you when you proposed?”
“Keep your voice down, will you?” he said, looking round. This was London, though. You could bleed to death on the street and nobody would even look at you. “It was hardly a proposal.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
“And I’m not answering such a vulgar question.”
“Oooh. Look at miss high and mighty getting all prudish.”
He stared at her, wondering what she was playing at, and saw a brief flicker of a smirk.
“Bitch,” he said, throwing a scrunched up serviette at her. “You had me going there.”
She laughed. “Your face was fucking hilarious.”
“Yes, very amusing. What did you want to see me for, then?”
“Serious mode now. I’m still worried. I know you like this guy, Oscar. More than you’re letting on. I don’t want to see you get hurt and be out a million quid for the trouble.”
“If things were different, I’d like to see whether there’s something more there, but he’s made it clear he’s not interested and I have to respect that. And a million quid is a small price to pay for what I did when we were kids.”
“You have to let that go.”
He knew she was right. He wasn’t that person anymore, and he never would be again, but every time he looked into Gregory’s eyes, he saw the echoes of the pain he’d caused. That was something he’d never be able to take away, but he knew Gregory would never forgive himself if something happened to Barty and he could have stopped it. That was why Oscar was doing this. The past couldn’t be changed, but Oscar would do everything he could to spare Gregory from any future pain.
Oscar’s driver pulled up outside Gregory’s flat, and he sent a text as instructed, although he would have preferred to go to the door like a gentleman. Oscar wasn’t sure whether Gregory had told his friends, so he’d just do as he was asked. If Gregory wanted to tell his friends the truth, he was fine with that. As long as their mothers didn’t find out, all would be well.
Gregory came out the door, looking as sexy as always in his tux. The guy knew how to rock a bow tie, and often wore them for work, but the black and white of the tuxedo showed off his lithe frame. He looked like butter wouldn’t melt, but Oscar knew he had a filthy mouth and could fuck like a demon. Okay, now would be a good time to not get hard.
The car door opened, and Gregory got in.
“Evening,” he said.
“Good evening, boyfriend,” replied Oscar with a smile.
Gregory rolled his eyes, but the side of his lips twitched. Oscar would do whatever he could to make Gregory smile. He always looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and his furrowed brow said he was doing everything he could to solve everyone’s problems. Did he ever put himself first?
The drive to the ball wasn’t long, as it was being hosted at a hotel on Park Lane. Traffic could be a nightmare in Central London, but the driver was one he had used before who knew all the shortcuts, and it was only a few minutes later when their car doors were being opened for them. They both stepped out on their respective sides.
Oscar made his way round to Gregory and held out his hand, and Gregory looked at it for a second, hesitation in his eyes, before he took a deep breath and linked their hands together. Then they walked into the hotel lobby and were directed to the ballroom. The noise of the event could be heard as they approached; it sounded like a great many people had already arrived, even though they were only thirty minutes past the start time. Despite Gregory protesting they needed to get there on time, Oscar was usually an hour or more late to these events so the old dears who were far too nosy about his love life – and always had a grandson or nephew he just had to meet – wouldn’t collar him. The respectable half hour delay was their first compromise as a fake couple.
“Both our mothers are together. Should we get this part over with?” asked Oscar.
“Let’s have a drink first.” Gregory gripped Oscar’s hand tighter. He could feel his palms were sweaty.
He pulled Gregory towards the bar, which was free for guests. Nobody would do something as filthy as pay at a Fitzwilliam-Smythe event. They were worth more than the monarch and wanted everyone to know it. To be fair, the old guy was a good laugh – no filter and zero fucks given – which was allowed when you were one of the richest people in the country.
Oscar ordered a whisky and Coke for Gregory and a gin and tonic for himself. He needed something refreshing. The bartender was efficient, and cute, but Oscar was here with his “boyfriend” so had to keep his eyes to himself. Not that he wanted anyone else; Gregory had ruined him for other men. Though they hadn’t agreed on what they were going to do about getting laid whilst they were married. Oscar could not go a whole year without being fucked; he’d be climbing the walls. Dildos only took the edge off, and were no substitute for a hard pulsing dick splitting you open. He really needed to get his mind out of the gutter. If anyone at this party could hear what he was thinking, there’d be a world record broken for the number of upper-class toffs clutching their pearls.
“Oh fuck,” said Gregory.
He spun around and saw his mother making a beeline for him, with Gregory’s mother by her side.
“Oscar, my dear,” she said, holding out her cheek for him to kiss.
Gregory did the same with Lavinia.
“Where is this new man of yours? I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Well, you don’t have long to wait,” he said.
Oscar slipped an arm round Gregory’s shoulder – who tensed – but he pulled him towards his body and he relaxed, getting into character. Oscar gave him a gentle kiss on the temple. Gregory flushed red, which was adorably cute.
He turned to see two women who usually never shut up talking with their jaws on the floor. It would be hysterical if it wasn’t so serious. His mother recovered first and gave a sweet, albeit fake, smile.
“Oscar, can I have a word with you in private?”
There was a tone in her voice that made it clear it was a statement and not a request. He could get this over with now, or make her sweat for a bit. If Gregory wasn’t up for any action tonight, and he’d made that clear, he’d have to get his fun another way.
“We’ll have to chat later, mother; I want to dance with my boyfriend. Come on, babe, let’s show them how it’s done.”
Gregory appeared rooted to the spot, although his face wasn’t giving anything away. It was only because Oscar had his arm round him that he could feel how rigid his body was. He pulled Gregory in front of him and pushed him forward towards the dance floor.
Once they were there, Oscar gripped Gregory by the hand and hip. Christmas music was playing, but it was classical, and everyone was waltzing around the floor.
“Do you want to lead?”
“I think that would look a little strange,” said Gregory, with a smirk.
“Are you okay?”
“I think if my mother had heat vision, I’d be dead right now.”
Oscar snorted, and starting moving them around the dance floor. They both moved without even thinking. This dancing had been instilled in them at a young age, so it came naturally.
He was aware people were watching them, and there were some whisperings. Not because they were two men – those times were in the past, and one thing Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam-Smythe couldn’t stand was bigots. No, this would be about the love-hate relationship their mothers had. The onlookers were no doubt titillated by the possibility of a scandal.
In less than a minute, the chatter had quietened and they were happily moving around the dance floor. It was a delightful feeling, having Gregory in his arms, and knowing he was comfortable not taking the lead here even though he was in complete control in the bedroom... And that wasn’t what he should be thinking about right now.
“Are you hard?” whispered Gregory.
“Noticed that, did you?”
“Bit difficult to ignore when it’s pressing into my stomach. You better take care of that somewhere.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Take care of it, and I’ll see you by the bar.”
“I thought you said we weren’t going to do anything.”
“And we’re not, but I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, and when I’m your boyfriend, you need my permission to come.”
“Fuck!”
“No, but you can think of me doing that whilst you wank yourself off in the toilet.”
Gregory smiled at him and pulled away, walking towards the bar without looking back. Oscar was standing in the middle of the dance floor with a tent pole in his tight trousers. Was Gregory winding him up, or was he really going to be in control of his orgasms for the next year without ever touching him? Why did that sound horrendous and incredible at the same time? He wasn’t sure, but the only thing he could do right now was get off the dance floor and follow the orders he’d been given.
Oscar left the bathroom, feeling like he was floating. That had been a quick and dirty wank, but he felt better for it. Just thinking about Gregory fucking him meant he’d come in less than two minutes. He was heading to the bar when he felt someone grab his arm. They had one hell of a grip on him, and he was about to shake them off when he realised who it was.
“Mother.”
“Don’t think you can avoid me all night, Oscar.”
“I wasn’t, but I need to get back to Gregory.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked, feigning innocence.
“Don’t try that with me. What are you playing at? Gregory Balfour? You can do so much better than that.”
“I thought you liked Gregory.”
“I do, but look at what he comes from. His parents don’t have a pot to piss in and as for his brother... mixed up with mobsters. I will not have our family name associated with riff-raff.”
Oscar couldn’t help but laugh.
“This isn’t a joke, Oscar. This is deadly serious. You will break things off with that boy and take Harrison to the New Year’s Eve ball. The same people will be there, and they’ll know that you’ve come to your senses.”
“Who is Harrison? You don’t mean Harrison Jessop, do you?”
“Of course. Harrison is a lovely boy. Very successful entrepreneur.”
“So is Gregory.”
“This isn’t up for debate.”
Was she for real? He was almost thirty years old, and besides, Harrison Jessop was a bigger bottom than Oscar. He was heavily into group action, and had allegedly taken three dicks at once. They would not be compatible, even if Oscar was interested.
“I’ll be taking Gregory to the New Year’s ball, mother. You’ll just have to get used to it.”
“I won’t allow it. I want you to find someone suitable so you can settle down.”
“Okay. I’ll marry Gregory then.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? I’ve known him for years. He’s handsome, successful, and knows how to deal with all this pompous crap.”
She belted him across the face. It stung like hell, but he held eye contact with her. It wasn’t the first time she’d hit him. He hadn’t been beaten as a child, but a slap if he was mouthy wasn’t unusual. Did he regret what he’d said? Yes, but she was being a bitch.
“Hell will have to freeze over before I allow a Balfour into this family.”
Before he could respond, she stormed off, leaving him wondering what the fuck had just happened.