Chapter 17
THEO
On the morning of their mountain climb, Theo woke shortly before dawn. Jumping out of bed, he hurried to the window to check the weather.
The sun had not yet risen, but there was the faintest shimmer of pale yellow on the horizon, just edging the mountain ridges in the distance.
Above that line, the sky was a dusky blue, purplish almost. Not quite dawn yet.
Most importantly, though, there were no clouds shrouding the tops of the mountains. All in all, it looked quite promising.
Theo strolled over to the sideboard to wash. The inn in Llanberis had had no shortage of rooms so he was in a bedchamber of his own again this morning—as was George, whose bedchamber was at the other end of the corridor.
It was a very different wakening from yesterday morning, when Theo had opened his eyes to find George’s sleeping face only a few inches from his own.
The instant rush of simple happiness that sight had provoked had shaken Theo.
And then had come the cold-water memory of what they’d agreed the night before—not to speak of what they’d done the next day. To go back to normal.
Whatever normal was.
Theo had scrambled out of bed, doing his best to dress silently, petrified that George would wake before he’d had a chance to collect himself.
But George had not awoken, and Theo had managed to escape to the inn’s dining room, where he’d spent nearly an hour staring at his breakfast and telling himself that this was good.
Perfect, even. After all, it wasn’t as though Theo wanted more than singular encounters, was it?
George had simply given him advance permission to do what he would normally prefer to do anyway—pretend their encounter had never happened.
No need for any histrionics on either side.
Except that, contrarily, Theo was finding that he did want to talk about it. He wanted to know what George thought about what they’d done, what part he’d liked best.
If he wanted to do it again.
Hell.
By the time Theo was fully dressed, dawn was breaking in earnest. The pale yellow line on the horizon had become a generous rose-gold glow over the mountains, the dusky purple sky fading to halcyon blue.
Leaving his bedchamber, Theo went to George’s door at the other end of the corridor, and knocked softly.
At length he heard the creak of bedsprings, then the sound of someone crossing the floor.
When the door opened, there stood George, in nothing but his drawers, his eyes barely open, his dark hair appealingly sleep-rumpled.
“Time to get dressed,” Theo said cheerfully, amazed at how calm and clear his voice sounded when he felt as though his mouth had just gone dry with lust. “I’ll see you in the taproom in five minutes for breakfast.”
“Five minutes?” George groaned.
“We’re making a prompt start on our walk,” Theo said. “I asked the innkeeper to arrange an early breakfast for us.”
“You’re a fiend,” George said, quietly but succinctly, and Theo laughed as he closed the door on him.
Descending the stairs to the taproom, Theo found the innkeeper’s wife sitting in a chair in the corner, knitting. When she saw him, she levered herself to her feet, setting her needles down in a basket at her feet.
“I'm afraid breakfast at this time isn’t up to much, sir,” she told him. “We’ve only just got the fire going in the kitchen. But there’ll be plenty, and I’ve got the provisions you requested for your walk as well, so you won’t go hungry. If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll be back presently.”
He did as she said while she lumbered off to the kitchen.
A few minutes later, George wandered in, yawning widely.
“How can you look so awake?” he complained, sliding into the chair opposite Theo. “It’s practically the middle of the night.”
Theo chuckled. “You’re too pampered.”
“Untrue,” George said, affecting a pout that made him look all too appealing, his full lower lip luscious, a teasing look in his eyes that made Theo’s cock harden.
When he heard the step of the innkeeper’s wife returning, he tore his gaze away.
“Here you are, gentlemen,” she said, setting a large tray down on the table. Theo was amused to see how George’s eyes lit up at the sight of the food. “I’ll bring the provisions for your walk shortly.”
For the next while, all of George’s attention was concentrated on eating, but eventually, he said, “Have you arranged a local guide for our walk?”
Theo shook his head. “We don’t need one. I have our route all worked out.” Reaching inside his coat, he drew out the small book he’d made his notes in, set it on the table and patted the leather-bound cover. “It’s all in here.”
“May I see?”
“Of course.” Theo pushed the book towards him. “Though my scribbles may not make much sense.”
George went straight to the most recently used pages, his eyes widening, then narrowing again as he took in Theo’s cryptic notes.
Eventually he shook his head in defeat and began turning the pages back to notes of earlier trips, this time just looking at the names at the top of each page.
“Scafell Pike,” he murmured, “Skiddaw. Helvellyn.” Glancing up, he smiled.
“These are all in the Lake District, aren’t they? ”
“They are. Have you been?”
George shook his head. “I’ve wanted to visit for a while.
I tried to persuade Ollie to go with me when we were at university, but he said he couldn’t see the point of tramping around the countryside all day long.
” His smile grew wistful then, and he closed the notebook, pushing it back towards Theo.
It was absurd, but Theo felt envious. Jealous even. Jealous just because George was thinking of Ollie instead of him. He tried to hide his ridiculous thoughts with a careless shrug, saying, “I’d go with you, if you wanted.”
George looked at him in surprise, then smiled. “Would you?”
“Of course, I love that part of England—my mother grew up there. I’d enjoy showing you all my favourite places.” He picked up the note book and waggled it. “And of course, taking you up my favourite mountains.”
George pinkened, though with pleasure, Theo thought, rather than embarrassment. “I would like that,” he said simply. “Though you may wish to see how well I do today before offering to take me up any more mountains. I may infuriate you with my slow pace.”
“Oh, I think you’ll do well enough,” Theo said. “You’re fit as a fiddle, even if you are a bit unused to hills.”
“Wiltshire’s quite hilly, actually.” George protested, then added grudgingly, “Though admittedly, it’s not mountainous.”
Theo chuckled.
George took a swig of his small beer before he spoke again. “How long do you think our route today will take?”
"Six or seven hours I would think. The main reason we’re setting off so early is because this is the very best time of day to walk.”
“What, so you’ve got me up at the crack of dawn for nothing!” George exclaimed, sounding appalled.
“You won’t be saying that when we reach the summit and the sun’s at its height,” Theo replied, grinning. “You’ll be thanking me for my foresight. Besides, the weather’s lovely this morning, but it may not hold out all day.”
George shot him a sceptical look. “Hmm. So what can I expect on this walk? Will there be sheer rock faces to tackle?”
“Not quite. There are several routes to the summit. I have two in mind. Both are fairly taxing, but the first one is safer. The second has a section you may find difficult if you have any fear of heights. It’s a bit of scramble, and there are some alarming drops.”
Theo was trying very hard not to show his own preference, but George probably knew him well enough to guess.
“I don’t mind heights,” he said. “Tell me about the second route.”
“Well,” Theo said. “We’d walk from here up to Pen y Pass which is straightforward, then on up to the Crib Goch ridge.
The ridge is the risky part. We’d have to be careful there, and it may take some time to get across.
There’s one other part with a bit of a scramble before the final ascent to the summit, but once we get to the top, it’s plain sailing.
The descent is gradual so it’s a fair way back but quite easy walking. ”
“Tell me more about the ridge part.”
“As I said, that’s the riskiest bit but also the best bit. It’s a thin, high ridge, sharp as a knife in places, but if the weather’s good, the view is astonishing.”
“In that case,” George said, “I think we should do that route.”
Theo couldn’t stop his smile breaking out at George’s easy agreement. Before he could say another word, though, the innkeeper’s wife bustled back into the taproom, holding the knapsack he’d given her which was now bulging with provisions.
“This should keep you going on your walk, gentlemen,” she said cheerfully. “Can I expect you back in time for dinner at six?”
“You can indeed, ma’am,” Theo said. He winked at George. “My friend here will never forgive me if he misses dinner.”