Chapter 15 Lady Malcolm’s Servants’ Ball #2
Between the butlers, housekeepers, valets and cooks all laughing over punch and gossiping about their colleagues was an entirely different set of attendees.
A set of Cinderellas taking advantage of everything possible before midnight.
Ned thought he lived as openly as a queer man could in England, and still the transgressions playing out in front of him felt flagrant.
Men in make-up, men in dresses, men laughing coyly, men clearly pursuing other men.
Ned and Charlie had already done a circuit of the ballroom commenting on the costumes, which covered every description from Arabian to mediaeval knights to Vikings and even an American cowboy.
Not that Charlie and Ned were making a poor showing themselves.
Ned had called in several favours to arrange for costumes on the theme of the Green Man.
He had kept Charlie’s simple—brown trousers and a green shirt—but had opted for something more fanciful for himself.
Ned wanted to show Charlie that he would take advantage of what was being offered, and honestly, had wanted that for himself as well.
His costume was a long green tunic artfully decorated with sequins and macramé leaves, with tight hose that caused Charlie to mutter and leave the room when Ned was putting it on.
He had done his face in elaborate stage make-up and was particularly pleased with the cat’s-eye effect.
And of course, he was wearing Charlie’s glorious hat as the pièce de résistance.
“I could spend all night simply watching everyone,” Ned said with wonderment in his voice.
“Or you could dance with me.”
Ned’s eyes widened for a moment. “Are you sure?”
Charlie gestured to the chaos of swirling people around them.
“Do you think anyone in this crowd will be shocked? I think I just saw Lady Malcom fast-stepping with her butler. And if anyone does comment, we can say we suppressed our inherent modesty out of a competitive spirit to win the fancy-dress competition.”
Heart beating in his throat, Ned extended his hand to Charlie. It felt as bold as anything he had done in his life.
As he laid his hand on Charlie’s shoulder, Ned wondered self-consciously about how Charlie would need to adjust to accommodate for Ned’s height advantage in order to lead. “Relax, Pinsent, trust me,” Charlie whispered into his ear, pulling him in closer as they moved to the music.
It took Ned about two turns to realise he needn’t have worried.
Dancing with Charlie was in another league from anything he had ever done before.
Charlie played Ned like he was one of the band’s instruments, bringing out movements that Ned would’ve sworn he wasn’t capable of.
Charlie evoked from Ned a grace and a confidence that left him breathless.
A fair while later, they took a break from the foxtrotting to enjoy a glass of punch.
From his perch against the wall, Ned could see two young men sizing them up.
The one on the left was dressed as a mediaeval damsel of some sort, complete with a long dress, pointed hat, and perfect pink bow lips.
His companion was no less ambitious in a nymph-inspired outfit of flowing trousers, shirtless except for a vest, and eyes done in an elaborate curling style.
Ned might have a decade of life on these boys, but he had to admit he was a little in awe of them, wearing markers of femininity so gleefully and unselfconsciously.
They must have noticed Ned’s gaze, because the short one in the nymph costume gave him a saucy wink.
“I like your eye make-up,” Ned blurted out.
“Nothing to slap like this.” The damsel leaned in so Ned could see. “The lining on the eyes is all in the flick of the wrist.”
“Yours is not so bad either,” the nymph costumed one said with frank admiration. “It’s bona to vada, such a dolly dish.”
Ned had no idea what the last part meant. It sounded like Italian that had spent several days drinking in East London.
“Scarper off, omi-palone,” Charlie responded with more humour than malice. “His dance card is full tonight.” As if sensing Ned’s confusion, Charlie clarified with a bit of a blush, “He said he liked your arse.”
Half of Ned was tempted to take prim offence, while the other half wanted to embrace the same devil-may-care attitude. He went with the second.
Ned turned back to the boys and met their eyes directly, as if taking this conversation very seriously. “I do look sensational in this fancy dress.”
“We saw you dancing, too. Everyone here wanted to stab your eyes out for looking so in love.” The damsel emphasised every syllable with delight.
The frankness of it all nearly knocked Ned for a loop.
Hugh, Freddy, and the rest of his set might be indiscreet, scandalous even, but none of them were willing to publicly sacrifice their masculinity like this, and certainly not with a complete stranger.
These boys didn’t even know Ned’s name, but by virtue of the fact that he was wearing a bit of make-up and tight trousers, they accepted him.
“Well, when you have a man this fantabulosa, you have to make the most of the moment while you have it,” Charlie answered.
After admiring all the details of their respective costumes, the four of them concluded that they were the best the room had to offer and spent the next half hour laughing about the failed attempts at flirting happening around them.
There was none of the cynicism of Ned’s typical nights out, where people provoked and shocked for the sake of it.
It was all far more direct and vulgar than Ned was used to, while at the same time hidden behind this cockney slang that Charlie kept having to translate.
Both explicit and hidden, and Ned felt like he was on a carnival ride of queerness.
Eventually some new ‘dolly dishes’ attracted the attention of their companions. Charlie and Ned wished them the best of luck finding a handsome man for the night and received in response a litany of slang that Ned didn’t really understand, which was probably for the best.
He turned to Charlie as the boys left. “What was he speaking? They sounded as London as the Thames, but the words were almost Italian?”
“It’s the language of the Dilly boys, a way of making sure the coppers don’t understand them.”
Ned cocked his head at Charlie. “And how do you know the language of the male prostitutes of the West End?”
Charlie shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “I never went prowling in the Turkish baths, if that’s what you mean. I watch the world around me, right? Lots of the shopboys speak it.”
Ned was pretty sure the whole point was that no one was supposed to understand the shopboys’ slang, but that was a conversation for another day.
Looking at the crush of people around them, a furrow of worry creased Charlie’s brow, “I know it’s not like the fancy parties you’re used to, but I hope…”
“It’s perfect,” Ned responded immediately, his heart full and wondering if his magnificent lover would ever know what a gift this evening was to Ned. “Dance with me again.”
???
“You look like an actor from the pictures. Or an angel. So perfect.” Charlie had pushed Ned up against the door of the flat as soon as Ned had managed to close it.
There had been more dancing and some champagne, and then a bit of punch.
Now they were home and basking in the hazy exhilarating feeling of an excellent night.
Charlie grabbed Ned’s arse firmly. “I want to be inside you tonight.”
Ned nearly gasped as lust washed over him.
He and Charlie had only ever done that act once, and Ned had been nearly out of his mind with grief, which is what had given him the total lack of self-consciousness to ask for it.
Since becoming lovers again, they had been focused on other mutual pleasures, re-learning each other’s bodies.
Ned wrapped his arms tight around Charlie’s shoulders. “Yes. Make me come apart.” He wanted them to drown in joy tonight.
Once they managed to get to the bed, Charlie’s confidence seemed to waiver. He couldn’t meet Ned’s eyes as he traced the seams of his costume. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Ned remembered how Charlie had worked to be gentle in the trenches, how Charlie had tensed every time Ned had grimaced in discomfort, because if he were honest, it wasn’t an entirely easy act.
A possibility floated into his mind. “I could… I could be on top. Take you inside me that way.” It had been a long time, but that position had always been one of Ned’s favourites.
Charlie groaned. “You can’t just say things like that without warning. But yes. Now?”
Ned took off his tunic, tossing it somewhere into the room’s dimness. “Yes, now.”
Charlie watched Ned like every movement of his body was fascinating and enticing.
It made Ned feel loved, safe. Tonight, it gave him the confidence to show off.
So Ned took his time shimmying out of his hose, letting his body go pliant and lithe.
Charlie’s eyes followed the slow descent of the material as Ned revealed more and more leg.
Once Ned was naked, he turned to removing Charlie’s clothes, letting his fingers slide along Charlie’s chest, bringing his knee up between Charlie’s legs and putting just a hint of pressure on his cock.
When Ned leaned across Charlie to grab the Vaseline from his bedside drawer, he dragged his cock over Charlie’s front, relishing the shiver he got in response.
Last time they had done this, Charlie had insisted on being as active as Ned needed him to be, but tonight Ned wanted the freedom to enjoy this and to be seen enjoying it.
Ned opened himself up with his fingers and let his other hand wander across his own tingling body, stroking his cock, grazing over his chest. He was shameless, moaning, groaning and panting as he wanted.
Plus, there was the added benefit of watching Charlie slowly come apart. “Please, Ned, I’m not going to last unless you do something soon. Fuck.”
With a single movement, Ned lowered himself onto Charlie. Charlie’s hip bucked up and he cried out, “I love you. God, I love you.”
???
Later, Ned nestled against Charlie’s chest as Charlie played with his hair and kissed his forehead. Charlie had much less body hair than Ned did, a feature Ned was incredibly envious of, and he liked tracing patterns between the freckles on Charlie’s chest.
“Do you think I would like to do that?” It took a minute for Charlie’s question to penetrate the fog of bliss that surrounded Ned’s mind.
“Want to try?” Ned wasn’t really serious because he knew Charlie wasn’t.
Charlie propped his head up on his arm. “I don’t want to ask you to do something you don’t like.
” Of course Charlie would take the expected and flip it inside out, not only asking for something Ned would have sworn Charlie wasn’t interested in, but also being more concerned that Ned wouldn’t enjoy it. Charlie then said, “But why not?”
“What I’m proposing? I’ll definitely enjoy myself.” Ned brushed a curl out of Charlie’s face. “Let me know if you don’t?”
Charlie kissed him, slowly, lovingly. “I trust you.”
Ned shifted his weight so that he could kiss his way down Charlie’s chest, nipping and licking and swirling.
Charlie’s skin was still salty-sweet from their previous activities.
He smiled to himself as Charlie shivered under his touch.
It hadn’t been that long since their last round, so Ned was a little surprised to find Charlie hard.
Clearly he wasn’t completely terrified about what Ned was going to do to him.
He relaxed even further when Ned took Charlie in his mouth.
Charlie’s muttered pleas turned to a groan of frustration when Ned pulled back, and then his eyes smouldered when Ned grabbed the Vaseline.
Ned returned to his work, moving his left hand lower, slowly caressing his way down Charlie’s chest to the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs.
Charlie’s legs opened wider for Ned, although Ned could feel the tremor of tension in the other man’s body.
As Ned nudged a finger in, Charlie froze.
Ned lifted his head up, careful to keep his tone gentle. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Give me a moment?” Charlie's voice was uneven as he stared at Ned’s ceiling.
Ned laid his lips gently on Charlie’s thigh, ignoring the cramp in his hand. “Of course, darling.” He rarely used affectionate names like that, but tonight it felt right.
From this angle, he was looking directly at the insides of Charlie’s forearms, currently clenching the sheets.
Even when they were having sex it was rare that Ned looked at them so directly, with their criss-cross scars, the legacy of the injury that had nearly killed Charlie.
Yet, in this moment, those marks were just another reminder that both Ned and Charlie were both scarred.
Yet still standing, still fucking, still loving.
When Charlie spoke again, his voice was steadier.
“Try again.” Ned slid his finger in again, slowly, careful to brush and tease but not force.
He returned his mouth to Charlie’s cock, gently moving his fingers as Charlie’s hands gripped Ned’s head, a muttered “Oh Jesus” gasping from his lips.
And then Charlie was driving the rhythm.
Ned crooked his finger gently, waiting until he found the place he was looking for. He almost choked as Charlie thrust up into his mouth, and Ned pulled back long enough to ask, “Enjoying yourself?”
“Don’t stop.” Charlie’s skin was shiny with sweat and his voice came in harsh pants.
It was all awkward angles, and Charlie kept twisting, but Ned let himself go and be surrounded by Charlie’s pleasure. This was Charlie’s gift to Ned, not what specific act they did, but how raw and open he was.
Charlie exploded with little warning, seeming to surprise himself as much as Ned.
Gently, Ned withdrew from Charlie’s body and crawled up to put his head on Charlie’s shoulder, feeling more than a little smug. “May I at least consider this your Christmas present?”
“Not a chance.” Charlie pulled Ned in closer and kissed him. “You know how long that hat took me to make?”