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He could say it had been a difficult day, but the truth was that Lamont had stayed in bed until past noon after a night of fitful sleep, and when he’d finally emerged, his uncle had been too pleased to pass him a stack of calling cards from visitors he’d snubbed. He’d meant to rise early and try to meet up with Gueiris for some training, but he hadn’t had it in him. It was too late by then for riding, as he was meant to accompany Nik to a dinner at Lord Ivantu’s this evening. By the time he got into his habit, made it to the stables, got Briar readied, and left the city, it would be time to turn around and return so he would have a chance to dress properly. It felt insurmountable and pointless. Instead, he’d mooched sulkily around the library all afternoon, failing to read a book. He should have gone to the stables anyway, just to spend time with Briar and improve his mood before the evening’s gathering. All he could think about, though, was the prospect of spending some time with Nik, even if he was dreading the dinner itself.
Ostensibly, they were courting, but the truth of their situation was generally understood: they were close friends, and the arrangement was mutually beneficial for the two young men. It was meant to be particularly so for Lamont, as he was searching for someone to pursue more seriously. He didn’t have to worry about attending events alone when his uncle couldn’t, or wouldn’t, support him, and Nik was there when he needed an excuse to step away or politely decline an invitation. In return, Nik was able to spend time with someone more experienced in the ways of society and more familiar with the city. Their friendship had deepened significantly on account of the time they’d spent together.
There was only one issue with the arrangement, as far as Lamont was concerned: the more time he spent with Nik, the less he wanted to spend in anyone else’s company. Part of him wondered if the arrangement wasn’t counterproductive, as there were a host of reasons that he couldn’t marry Nik, no matter how insistently his heart pressed the issue. The time they spent together now would have to be enough. In truth, most days it was the only thing that was carrying him forward at all.
For now he dressed carefully, keeping in mind that he was meant to be setting a good example for Nik in this regard as well. As members of the upper levels of the peerage, they were both expected to balance fashion with the solemnity of their station. He chose his accessories with extra care, slipping a sapphire ring onto his little finger that Nik had admired previously. It had once belonged to his father, but he was still considering gifting it to his friend. The blue stone was a striking match for his eyes, and he knew it would fit with little adjustment, as Nik had tried it previously.
Nik noticed immediately after Lamont settled him into the carriage, smiling brightly. He was wearing a new suit of clothes that Lamont hadn’t seen before – dove grey velvet breeches with a matching silk cravat, with a navy coat and a pale blue silk brocade waistcoat. With his nearly white skin, he looked stunning.
“You look so handsome in green,” Nik was saying as Lamont re-seated himself beside him, “I’m glad to see you in it. Though I see you’ve worn your sapphire again – was that on my account?”
Lamont looked down at his hand, hoping to hid the colour rising in his cheeks. He hadn’t been certain until this moment whether he really would give it to him, so he hadn’t prepared anything particular to say. “Perhaps…” he slipped it off his finger and into his fist. “It suits you much better than I, especially in blue.” He pressed it into Nik’s hand, watching his beautiful lips form an ‘o’ of surprise.
“For me? But wasn’t it your father’s?”
“I want you to have it. I insist.”
Nik looked down at the ring, then slipped it on. It fit best on his index finger, and he held it up to admire how it sparkled even in the closed carriage. “No one has ever given me something like this before… thank you Lamont.”
Lamont returned his soft smile, though his heart was pounding. The fact that Nik was also blushing furiously did not help the surge of feelings that tormented him.
Nik looked back down at the ring, then eyed him slyly. He was pink up to the tips of his delicately pointed ears. “My very first courting gift… I’ll treasure it always.”
His heart skipped a beat. “Oh – I didn’t mean – can’t it just be a gift between friends?”
“Oh.” Nik’s disappointment was palpable, but he rallied after a moment, looking up at Lamont with hopeful eyes. His intentions carried that same hope of drawing them closer together. Lamont could feel his resolve wavering even before he spoke. “I know you say there’s reasons we can’t be together, but can’t we pretend, just a little? Just for tonight or – even just for this carriage ride? Am I wrong to think that it’s some thing we both wish was possible?”
“No...” And before he could stop himself, before his sense of propriety or shame could assert themselves, he’d reached out and cupped Nick’s face, pressing their lips together in a lingering kiss.
Nik had never been kissed before and, at first, he simply offered up his mouth, yielding to Lamont’s desire and greater experience. His innocence was irresistible, and Lamont ran his fingers along the line of his jaw to coax him to part his sweet lips and let him slip his tongue between them for a further taste, to feel him moan and gasp against him. Nik learned quickly to express his own hunger as it grew in intensity, scarcely drawing a full breath before returning to the kiss with such force that they nearly knocked their teeth together.
It was so much better than his guilty fantasies, even with the jostling of the carriage, and Nik seemed no more inclined to break away, even as his breaths grew more shallow and rapid. Lamont could feel his cock straining at his breeches, and thinking of Nik in such a state should have encouraged him to pull back and allow them both to recover before they reached their destination. Instead, he ran his hand up Nik’s velvet-clad thigh, gratified at first by his eager moan, and then taken by surprise as Nik’s breath caught completely in his throat and he gave a strangled cry of pleasure, grabbing at Lamont’s arm and finally collapsing against him, reddened face buried against Lamont’s neck as the peak of his pleasure passed.
It was one of the most erotic things he had ever experienced, and he felt uncomfortably hard as Nik sat up, his expression blissful. As the carriage began to slow, however, Lamont couldn’t pull his eyes away from the dark spot spreading across the front of Nik’s breeches, his euphoria crashing instantly.
“That was amazing,” Nik breathed. “You make me feel amazing.” He lifted his head to gaze at Lamont and his face fell into confusion and hurt.
“I-I’m so sorry,” Lamont stuttered, but his voice sounded distant to his own ears, and his stomach twisted. He should have known better. Nik deserved better – better than some clumsy makeouts in a carriage, and better than the kind of selfish cad who would leave him in such a state. He deserved someone who could give him the attention, and commitment, that he wanted. Lamont wished more than anything that he could be that person. “We’ve arrived.”
“Oh.” Nik tried to pull himself together despite his distress, but no matter how he adjusted his breeches, there was no hiding the mess. “Um, I suppose… I need to clean up….”
“I’ll have a servant sent to attend you.” Once Lamont had looked away from him, he couldn’t look back. But he couldn’t think of anything else he could do – it was going to be awkward no matter what. People were going to talk. He’d have to think of something to preserve Nik’s reputation, that was all, and seem polite and collected and natural at a function he had little interest in attending to begin with. Now all his only desire was to go immediately home and back to bed, since the ground seemed uninterested in opening up and swallowing him whole. Instead, he descended from the carriage when his footman opened the door, his own cowardice making his skin crawl, trying to pull himself together half as well as Nik had in order to greet their host with even minimal grace.
“Wait!”
Lamont paused, but still didn’t turn back. Nik wasn’t trying to get out of the carriage at least, and not coming after him.
“The ring…”
“It’s yours. Do with it as you like.” He couldn’t handle the notion of taking it back, not when he was already barely holding on.
He should have just left. He should have taken Nik home, except they had arrived and were expected. The carriage certainly would have been recognized. He could have just said that he had developed one of his infamous headaches – it was true enough. But he didn’t, and then he was at the door, explaining that they’d had a mishap with some refreshments and could someone please assist Lord Evenor in cleaning up. The dinner itself was misery. Even the smell of the food increased his nausea, and the intentions of everyone in the room, even those not focused on him, were overbearing to the point that he could barely concentrate on small talk. It was meant to be an opportunity to mingle with women of his own age and station, but he was distracted and curt. Who could be blamed for not wanting to talk to him? He was isolated and alone, just as his uncle wished, through his own crass behaviour.
Someone more suave and collected, like Coifárë, could have played off the whole incident in the carriage as a cheeky indiscretion, but this wasn’t his strength at the best of times. Now everyone could tell something had happened. He could feel the shifting of intentions as people noticed the awkwardness – the lack of eye contact between them, the minimal conversation and general avoidance – and grew curious. Nik seemed more capable of losing himself in distraction, chatting gamely with other guests. Lamont could sense his intention too – to try and forget about what had happened and make the best he could of the evening. It was suffocating. By the time he acknowledged that he really should just make his excuses and go, it felt like a hand was squeezing inside his chest, and he was finding it hard to breathe.
Lord Ivantu accepted his apology gracefully, even offering to recommend a doctor, and Lamont realized he must look as awful as he felt – just more fodder for the rumour mill. He owed Nik something, but the best he could manage was to interrupt his conversation with the lady of the house and inform him that he was leaving, but that the carriage would return to be at his disposal. He didn’t wait for a response – the look of mixed concern and hurt on his face was almost unbearable.
Lamont did break down when he returned to the carriage – the ring was sitting on the seat, placed with obvious care. He couldn’t bear to look at it, never mind touch it, or he would have thrown it away. But he left it – the servants would take it if Nik didn’t. Not having any other option, he went directly home, directly to bed, shrugging off his coat and shoes, with no intention of ever leaving.
His uncle never had to lift a finger: he was clearly capable of ruining his own life without any outside interference whatsoever.