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It wasn't often that Lumiere and Cogsworth bathed in each other's presence without at least one other person with them.
They were friends, sure, but Cogsworth always seemed too busy to ever relax for too long, especially with the company of someone as boisterous as Lumiere.
Which made moments like these ever the more special.
The castle was quiet for the first time in weeks, the celebrations of being human once more finally dissipating to nothing but low chatter, something Cogsworth expressed his gratitude for.
He never was one for big parties. Celebrations with his closest coworkers? Sure. A bunch of people packed into a ballroom dancing and singing? Not his forte.
Lumiere lays against a rug by the fireplace as he sways the empty glass of wine in his hand around absentmindedly. He stares at the crackling fire silently, almost in a trance of some kind. For once, the head of kitchen had nothing to say.
Even more surprisingly, the eerie silence made Cogsworth deeply uncomfortable, which ultimately causes him to shift in his seat, unable to sit still. He often prayed for the younger man to shut up, but now that he finally did, it felt as though there was another shoe about to drop.
"Something bothering you, mon ami?" Lumiere pipes up, glancing back toward the man momentarily before his eyes fell back onto the flames.
"I could ask you the same thing," Cogsworth tosses back, "Is something on your mind?" He questions, finishing off the wine that was in his glass.
He took being able to taste for granted and was more than happy to dip back into the castle's vast wine collection. Especially in the presence of a dear friend.
A friend is all Lumiere was, Cogsworth has to remind himself more often than he'd care to admit. A perverted feeling had begun encroaching on the man's mind for years, the type of thoughts that were worse than taboo — they were entirely shunned in society.
The type of thoughts that got people killed.
The butler immediately reaches for the bottle of wine sat on the coffee table that separated the two men, if he could just drown these thoughts out, at least in this moment. If he didn't find a way to silence them, he was sure he would vomit.
Cogsworth brings the bottle to his lips, chugging a good half of it while Lumiere stares at him in surprise, though he didn't seem upset.
"I didn't know one could miss wine that much, Cogsworth," Lumiere teases, his accent thick with amusement, though there was a hint of concern there — something only Cogsworth could ever catch.
Missing wine.
Yes, that's what it was.
"Neither did I." Cogsworth tries to joke back, but it ended up coming out as a flat remark, something that happens more often than not when he tries to fit in with the others, which would often end in a wide variety of weird stares.
Never from Lumiere, though. He always smiled brightly at him, like he understood he was joking.
Did he? Or did he just never stop smiling?
Lumiere turns onto his back, stretching out across the carpet while his pelvis thrusts into the air. The maître d' lets out a long, exaggerated moan of pleasure from the feeling of his lanky limbs extending as if they were on a rack.
Cogsworth tries not to stare, but desire swirls inside him and he's almost unable to stop his eyes from shifting down Lumiere's body, right down to his pelvis. He wonders what may lie beneath the man's pants.
The thought makes him nauseous.
How could he objectify someone who thought of him as a friend like this?
It must be the wine.
He has to excuse himself.
Cogsworth pretends to check the time on his watch, "It's getting late, Lumiere. We should go to bed… that is an order," he tries to say firmly, but it doesn't land correctly due to his nervousness.
Lumiere, of course, is a lot more observant than people give him credit for, and is incredibly in tune with other's emotions.
"Ah, but the night was just beginning," Lumiere whines as he sits up, making a point to crawl on all fours to Cogsworth. He noticed the butler's stares, how couldn't he? He was hardly subtle about it.
Cogsworth's eyes widen in shock that almost immediately fades into shame instead of the desire that Lumiere was hoping for.
The desire he sees in women's eyes when he made moves on them was not present in Cogsworth at all, he looked like a terrified animal trapped in a corner.
"I must insist."
"Have you ever lain with a woman?" It's a sudden question from Lumiere, who maneuvers himself so he was sitting on the coffee table, right in front of Cogsworth.
"Yes," Cogsworth half-lies. He has tried to, many of times, but he could never… get his body to work with him. He supposes it is surely an easy task for Lumiere, of course. As easy as leading conversations came to the man.
"And was it, eh, enjoyable?" Lumiere presses, a tiny smirk playing at his lips as the fire crackled distantly behind them.
Cogsworth doesn't like lying — he was horrible at it, but still, the words leave his mouth faster than his brain can comprehend them, "Of course."
That doesn't mean they sounded at all convincing, though.
Quite the opposite.
His words ended with an awkward laugh that gave away his fib.
Lumiere cocks an eyebrow in amusement, "Really?" He wanted to see if Cogsworth would double down on the lie, and try to stutter his way through an explanation, or give it up.
"I do not wish to discuss with you the details of my sexual escapades, Lumiere." His words were as prim and proper as ever, but his voice was strained with embarrassment.
Lumiere should have guessed he'd pivot in that direction.
"Then why don't you demonstrate them instead, old friend?" Lumiere drawls, moving from his seat on the coffee table and closes in on his closest friends.
Before Cogsworth even has time to piece together a response, a question of what he meant by that, the footman's lips were on his own.
Lumiere's lips were disgustingly soft.
He felt sick to his stomach.
Cogsworth should shove him away, call him a lunatic. Say that wasn't the kind of man he was, and question if Lumiere was really a man at all.
But he can't, he's almost frozen with the realization he comes to in the moments after Lumiere's lips pressed to his own, this felt good.
Overwhelmingly good.
Unparalleled to anything Cogsworth has ever felt before.
Finally, Cogsworth kisses the blond-haired man back as best he can, which is rather sloppy, trying desperately to keep up with Lumiere's vehemence.
His hand reaches up and takes hold of Lumiere's jabot, for a few moments, he considers shoving him away. Instead, he pulls the man closer, who almost topples over, hands grabbing tightly onto the arms of the chair as his chest pressed against Cogsworth's own, humming something incoherent.
It almost sounded like a laugh.
Lumiere presses his tongue into Cogsworth's mouth, moaning lewdly, and the butler lets out a strangled gasp — grip on the blond's jabot tightening as he pulls him impossibly closer. Cogsworth reaches his free hand down to rest against Lumiere's lower back, but never daring to venture down further.
A creak of the old castle is enough to spook Cogsworth into pushing Lumiere away, eyes darting to the door as he breathes heavily, face flushing a deep red.
"Ma chère, it's just ze castle settling," Lumiere attempts to comfort him, hand disconnecting up from the arm chair and resting against Cogsworth's cheek, standing right in front of the chair after being pushed back from his previous position on Cogsworth's lap.
"Someone could still walk in at any moment." Cogsworth begins panicking, "How could you be so reckless?" He chastises, but his eyes show no hint of anger when he turns his attention back to Lumiere.
"Reckless iz my middle name, mon ami, weren't you aware?" Lumiere always was one to resort to jokes to try and lighten the mood, which didn't always land how they were originally intended to.
"That is a terrible habit," Cogsworth seethes, cheeks red in embarrassment, "This is not…we can not…I should go," he stumbles over his words, if he were still a clock, Lumiere was sure he'd be clicking erratically.
The butler stands to escape their entanglement, but is immediately stopped by Lumiere grabbing the front of his shirt, shoving him back down into the chair. His tongue clicks disapprovingly and he shakes his head, "No no no, mon amour, you must stay."
"Lumiere, I…I am not like those maids you seem to enjoy so thoroughly and I am certainly not something to be toyed with."
Despite his voice of disapproval, Cogsworth does not attempt to stand back up after being shoved back into place by the maître d'.
There was a look of mischief evident in Lumiere's gaze that makes Cogsworth shiver underneath it.
He never felt this way about anyone.
That single thought terrifies him more than anything ever has — even the curse.
Lumiere's slender fingers slide into Cogsworth's vest, eyes never leaving the older man's face.
The butler's breathing picks up immediately, his lip quivering while Lumiere brings his hand down to the button of the vest that was tucked neatly on the side of it.
"Lumiere," Cogsworth warns, but he was in no condition to demand anything of the man, except maybe to please continue.
"Talk to me, mon ami," Lumiere urges, pushing the butler's vest open and moving his hand down the sound fabric of his undershirt, fingers grazing against the hem of his pants.
Cogsworth's head was spinning, his eyes dart from the door back to Lumiere, someone could walk in easily, Lumiere didn't even bother to lock it… what if he was doing this on purpose to prove that Cogsworth was some type of perverted predator that shouldn't be allowed to work in the castle at all?
Lumiere wouldn't do that to him… would he?
"Mon coeur, you're overthinking again." Lumiere's hand lays flat against Cogsworth's belly as his eyes finally stop moving nervously and rest on the maître d' permanently.
"This is wrong." It was barely above a whisper, almost as if Cogsworth couldn't bear to utter the words any louder, lest the other man agree with him.
Lumiere frowns, "Non," he responds firmly, fingers twitching against the man's stomach and Cogsworth could feel it even through the fabric, "Let me show you?"
Always the performer.
Perhaps for once, that wasn't so bad.
Cogsworth nods in response, unable to get the desperate plea to be touched out of his mouth, whether it be from his own pride or the deep shame, he didn't know.
He wasn't sure it mattered.
Lumiere's eyes darken, "Uh uh, your words, mon ami." My friend was such an odd choice of words in this scenario, had it come to mean something different for them after all these years?
"You're infuriating," Cogsworth seethes, shifting uncomfortably in the seat before looking into the man's eyes, "Show me?" It sounded more like a question than a statement, Cogsworth hopes it would suffice.
"What's the magic word?" Lumiere's accent was thick as usual, the syllables falling off his tongue harshly.
"Please find it in yourself to cease your never ending teases, Lumiere," Cogsworth begs, voice breaking slightly as Lumiere unbuttons his culottes.
Lumiere's movements were soft and uncharacteristically slow — he was always so fast paced that Cogsworth is almost convinced time is moving slowly.
"If it brings you any comfort, I've never done anything like zis with another man, either." Lumiere's tone is soft and comforting, hand grazing over the growing bulge in Cogsworth's pants.
The words did help the anxious butler, but then he pondered how Lumiere was so carefree about their situation, then?
How does he never seem to care about anything?
Cogsworth's breath catches in his throat when the footman drops to his knees, staring up at the majordomo with a hungry look in his eyes.
He'd seen that look before, mostly given to the maids that worked in the castle, but sometimes, when he was deeply intoxicated, toward him.
"Magnifique." Lumiere utters, hand sliding into the butler's breeches and taking hold of his erect cock.
Cogsworth shifts in the seat, heavy breath releasing from deep in his throat as he averts his gaze to the door, but is unable to stop himself from thrusting into the footman's hand.
Lumiere uses his free hand to pull the breeches down as best as possible with Cogsworth sitting down, managing just enough room to free the butler's cock from his pants. Cogsworth's eyes squeeze shut when Lumiere spits onto his member to ease the friction.
Lumiere strokes his cock slowly in order to coat it with his saliva, "Eyes on me, darling." The butler snaps his head down toward the man, eyes widened like saucers in shock from his words, it certainly wasn't the dirtiest thing he's ever heard the footman say, but saying it to him, while committing such a ludicrous act, it made him feel hot with lust.
Just as Lumiere bows his head to lick up Cogsworth's erection, the butler speaks up suddenly, "Lumiere — I, I lied… I've never…" he stumbles over his words, a deep blush creeping up his neck and threatening to assault his cheeks.
Lumiere only chuckles lowly, "I know."
Cogsworth chokes on nothing when Lumiere's lips press against the foreskin that adorns the head of his cock. The footman licks the hole gently, giggling breathily when the butler whimpers above him.
He can't break his eyes away from Lumiere, but not because the blond told him to.
Cogsworth was simply entranced by the view below him.
So this is why Lumiere takes so many women.
Lumiere nibbles at the foreskin with precision, hand still stroking the lower half of the butler's shaft. Cogsworth lets out a moan when Lumiere uses his lips to push the foreskin back, revealing the tip that he runs his tongue across.
Cogsworth digs his nails into the arm rests of the chair, staring down at the footman engulfing his cock in his mouth, hand that was once stroking his shaft moving down to cup his balls as he takes the butler's erection as far down his throat as he possibly can.
A small gag escapes Lumiere before he brings his head back up, licking the foreskin once more and using his lips to pull it back before letting it curl back up slowly.
"Merde," Cogsworth pants out, moving his hand to shakily rest it against Lumiere's cheek, who finally looks up at the majordomo and nearly knocks the air out of his lungs from that small movement.
Their eyes were locked onto each other now as Lumiere bobs his up and down Cogsworth's erection, small noises of discomfort leaving him from the unfamiliarity of the appendage.
Pressure builds up inside Cogsworth, his cock pulsating in the beginnings of an orgasm.
Cogsworth begins to panic once more upon realizing what that meant for the man damn near swallowing him— the coil inside Cogsworth was about to snap, he could feel it in the sparks sent down his spine. He attempts to push Lumiere back by his cheek, "I ,I, I—" The butler sounded like a broken clock, only able to chime in one tune.
Lumiere doesn't budge, his gaze on Cogsworth only deepening as his free hand ventures up the majordomo's body, finding its resting place on the hem of his chemise.
Cogsworth could feel the desire moving down his erection until it was spurting into his lover's mouth and he was seeing nothing but white, mind rendering itself completely blank.
"Yes—ohhh yes." Is all Cogsworth could make out, his hips thrusting up impulsively, pushing his softening cock further down the blond's throat.
Lumiere finally breaks eye contact and pulls away from his oldest friend, come dripping down his chin from the corner of his mouth that he's quick to wipe away.
Cogsworth's eyes fall down Lumiere's frame, finally realizing he was pressing his palm against his trousers, rubbing himself gingerly through them.
The majordomo is quick to make himself decent again, swiveling his hips to accomplish such an act.
"Would you like me to…" Cogsworth trails off, a deep embarrassment coming over him while watching Lumiere's desperation.
"Ah, please mon chère," Lumiere begs shamelessly, standing up and tugging Cogsworth up out of the chair.
The butler gasps in surprise when Lumiere pulls him flush against his body, lips colliding together once more — it was as if Lumiere was addicted to him.
Lumiere tugs Cogsworth toward the searing fire, shrugging the butler's tailored blazer off in the midst of their kisses.
The footman thrusts against Cogsworth, a tiny whimper leaving his mouth while his hands explore the other man's body. Lumiere moves from Cogsworth's lips, kissing down his jaw and sucking at his neck, forgetting, if only for a moment, that leaving marks on him would raise suspicion.
And not in the thrilling way like the ones he left on women.
A guttural grunt leaves Cogsworth's mouth from the pressure on his neck, reaching his arms out and grabbing Lumiere's hips to tug him impossibly closer. The butler could tell, just from the bulge, that the blond was larger than him, much larger.
Lumiere moves his hands down and cups Cogsworth's ass tightly, making the other man yelp as his thigh his gripped and hiked up. Before Cogsworth could get any words out, he was already on the floor with Lumiere on top of him, holding both the butler's thighs in a missionary position.
It was becoming glaringly obvious to Cogsworth how Lumiere's skill far exceeded his own. The blond's movements and touches were well thought out and strategic — always made to get a reaction out of the butler. While Cogsworth's hands moved in something akin to a fumbling disaster, never confident enough to stay in one place for long.
"Tu vas me tuer, chérie," Lumiere pants against the majordomo's neck, letting go of one of Cogsworth's thighs and moving his hand to release himself from his breeches. Just for a moment, he stumbled over the hem of his pants, his hand shaking slightly.
Cogsworth ponders whether it's due to nervousness or pure lust. More than likely the latter, he concludes after a few moments of thinking.
Finally, Lumiere is able to free his cock from the restraints of his pants, stroking himself slowly while his eyes fall back on Cogsworth, who watches intently, like he was under some sort of spell.
"Like what you see, monsieur?" Lumiere's tone was dark, that thick drawl of his accent returning once more.
Cogsworth can only bring himself to nod dumbly, eyes flickering from the blond's enchanting features to where he was tugging at his erection, the foreskin pulling back slightly with each movement of his hand.
Lumiere leans back over the butler, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before sliding his erection between Cogsworth's thighs. It's them that Cogsworth realizes what the man's plan was — to fuck himself in between his thighs.
He should not find that attractive, it would surely create a ginormous mess that would undoubtedly get them caught.
But despite it all, a blush creeps back up his neck at the thought.
Lumiere slowly thrusts in and out of the space between Cogsworth's thighs — the butler's legs hoisted up onto his shoulders.
It felt just like rutting against his own bedsheets — Lumiere wasn't sure he wanted to admit how many times he'd done that out of sheer desperation.
The blond whimpers and moans, not bothering to stay quiet. Performance ran deep in Lumiere's blood, even as far as his most intimate moments.
Add to the fact he never could shut up.
“Darling, you're exquisite," Lumiere praises, grab one of Cogsworth's ankles and presses a wet kiss to it, "Parfait."
The praise is overwhelming for Cogsworth, he thrived off getting told what a good job he was doing in his day to day activities, but he never thought it'd translate here.
"Hush," Cogsworth replies bashfully, fingernails digging into the soft rug beneath him while he stares up at Lumiere.
"I will not!" Lumiere feigns offense, offering Cogsworth a harsher thrust of his hips that makes the majordomo yelp.
It didn't take long for Lumiere to lose himself in the pleasure, thrusting erratically between Cogsworth's thighs — it was a sight he never hoped to forget.
The blond utters praises that only serve to make Cogsworth's stomach swirl with a newfound desire.
As his orgasm draws closer, Lumiere whispers something that resembles Cogsworth's first name,
Henri
It's so quiet that Cogsworth can barely make it out, and when he does, it's overshadowed by what Lumiere begins chanting as ecstasy overrides any sense he has.
Je t'aime.
He repeats it over and over, like a mantra as he spurts white hot fluids over Cogsworth's clothes.
Cogsworth's legs fall off Lumiere's shoulders as he stares up at him in disbelief. Then a harsh reality befalls him, he didn't mean it.
It was the heat of the moment.
Pleasure overtook his mind.
Someone like Lumiere does not fall in love with a man like Cogsworth.
Then, his eyes land on the mess Lumiere made on his garments, "That was extremely unwise, Lumiere. And quite frankly, disgusting." Cogsworth props himself up on his elbows and sends Lumiere the best scowl he can muster.
"But you look so pretty splattered with my come, mon amour," Lumiere tosses back, fixing his breeches back neatly.
"Lumiere! that is entirely inapproriate!" Cogsworth squeaks the words out, unable to stay mad at the blond after being called pretty.
He never thought he would like that before.
“Relax, mon ami, this is a bed chamber. Fetch yourself a fresh pair of garments and meet me in bed, the night has hardly begun."
That excites Cogsworth — more than his dignity would allow him to admit.