Alex closed the door to his chambers and covered his face with his hands.
God, God, God.
He could not believe this was really happening. He wanted to scream, to run, to jump, to dance from the sheer, unexpected joy of the evening. Alex brought the pads of his fingers to his lips, and his heart began to flutter even faster.
The Young Lord forced himself to prepare for bed and, with equal difficulty, lay down on the mattress. His mind understood that his body needed rest. But it thought otherwise. He tossed and turned endlessly, thinking of nothing but Nathan. Once again, he replayed fragments of the evening at the masquerade in his head, weighing every word he had spoken — and every word the Duke had spoken in return.
"Alex, what is the matter? Is it your ankle? You must have injured it dancing."
He had sounded so worried and… caring.
Unfortunately, after that, Alex could not remember a single word. Nathan had surely said something, but he was unable to perceive any of it. Alex lay on his back and remembered what he had shouted at him in the heat of the moment.
"The moment you came into my life, I lost my sanity!… You have poisoned my mind!"
He felt utterly ashamed. The Young Lord regretted deeply that at that moment he had chosen such hurtful words. But he also remembered that the Duke, despite this and his further attempt to escape, had still held him in his arms…
"You are the first thing I think of when I wake, and the last thing that visits me before sleep."
Alex covered his face with his hands, wanting to howl, as a wave of shame and embarrassment coursed through his body from head to toe.
"You are the first thing I think of when I wake, and the last thing that visits me before sleep."
How could I have said such a thing… God… Foolish, beautiful face…
The kiss. Alex's chest struggled to draw in air, which suddenly seemed to vanish from the room. He could never have imagined that his tirade would end like that… He sprang up sharply and opened the shutters. Outside, rain fell, and the room instantly filled with cool, fresh air. He took a deep breath and lay back down.
He remembered the Duke's face when he had torn their kiss apart, remembered his languid gaze, and now… Alex again covered his face with his hands, squeezing his eyes shut for good measure. He dared to think that Nathan's gaze had looked as though he… desired him. And this thought made him bend his knees, pulling them closer to his body.
And again — the kiss. And another. And the wet trace left on his neck…
Never before… I had never known that people do such things....
He dropped his hands from his face and lay on his back. If not for the darkness, one could have seen how Alex had blushed all over.
It was my first kiss…
This thought sent a strong heat through the upper part of his abdomen. Then Alex remembered his shameful moan and turned onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow.
I will never let out anything like that again! Never!
He had been so frightened at the moment that he hadn't even realized how he ended up in another room. Before Alex's eyes appeared the image of the Duke removing his jacket, with that indescribable look full of desire…
Ohh.
Lying on his stomach, Alex kicked his legs against the bed.
Again—the kisses.
Breathe through the nose… It sounded so obvious. God.
It seemed he had called the Duke by his name… And The Young Lord longed to do it again. He slightly parted his lips and quietly, barely audibly, whispered: "Na-tha-ni-el," counting the beats of his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
Suddenly, he remembered the most disgraceful moment of the evening.
His knee… I didn't know that… God, I pray he didn't notice…
Alex quickly turned onto his side and squeezed his eyes shut.
But he moved it… Or maybe I was moving… Dear God!
And then he remembered what the Duke had done with his chest and…
Impossible! I can't take it anymore! Damn!
All this time, as Alex lay on his side, his lips had parted slightly. A thin line of saliva had escaped the corner of his mouth. Feeling the dampness, he startled and wiped it with his sleeve. Then his gaze slid downward.
Damn.
He fell back against the mattress, tossing restlessly, consumed by shameful doubts. He cursed himself for yielding to temptation, for plunging again into those memories.
Not here—God, why must it be so hard? Should I walk? Impossible—what if I wake someone? And I cannot step out in such a state. Cold water? Perhaps in the bathroom—but I might catch a chill. Just lie still? I cannot bear it anymore…
Alex exhaled sharply. He felt trapped, cornered. In his mind he begged forgiveness—from himself, from Nathan, from God, from anyone who might hear. Then, with trembling resolve, he slid his left hand beneath his nightshirt, his right hand lower, until his fingers brushed against himself. The shock of sensation made him recoil, but the need drew him back. Slowly, tentatively, he began to move. He was already at his limit. Turning his head aside, he pressed his mouth into the pillow, trying to smother the sounds. Yet passion overwhelmed him; restraint became nearly impossible.
***
When the Duke entered his chambers, he felt as though he had stepped out of one of his own fantasies.
Could this truly be real? Surely it must be a dream.
He clutched his head and paced the room for several minutes, replaying the day's events over and over. At last, forcing himself to pause, he drew a few deep breaths and persuaded himself to prepare for rest.
He bathed, then unlatched the window to let in the night air. Afterward he sat at his desk, writing a few lines in his journal and signing documents that had piled up. At some point, Nathan caught the faint creak of another window being opened.
Most likely he also enjoys the cool air… I hope he does not catch a cold.
When his work was finished, he snuffed out the candle, closed the window, and went to the hearth, stretching his hands toward the fading fire. Yet even the warmth could not drive away his thoughts. Over and over he returned to the memory of the evening, unable to quiet his mind.
Perhaps… no. Or… yes? Perhaps Alex left the hall not because of his leg… He seemed so sorrowful today when he congratulated me… Or was it only my imagination? When he heard of Ophelia and me—could that have been what pained him so much? God…
The Duke's chest tightened, but he tried to master himself.
Nathan, do not torment yourself with fancies. Perhaps one day I shall find the courage to ask him…
And then he heard it—something beyond the crackle of the firewood.
He lifted his head and listened. The noise was strange, and it was coming from—
The Duke moved closer to the side of the fireplace. It came from the adjoining chamber. From Alex's room.
This is—
The realization struck him like boiling water. His face went rigid, his body taut with shock.
How is that possible? Why here…
The Duke dared to take a step closer to the fireplace wall. He remembered that Alex's bed was placed somewhere on the other side and they shared the same chimney.
Perhaps…
Another sigh reached his ears. Heat swept over Nathan, rooting him to the spot. His pulse pounded with such force that he feared it might give him away. He pressed a hand to his lips, as though to contain himself. He should not be listening. It was not meant for him — this soft and unbearably intimate sound of pleasure. Shame mingled with longing, yet he could not tear himself away. Reason faltered.
He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Fantasies rushed unbidden, overwhelming him — visions of Alex, restless in his sheets, lost in the same torment that now consumed him. Nathan slowly slid his hand into his trousers. He gripped his prick too tightly from impatience and bit his lip so hard in a desperate attempt to suppress the moan that rose within him. To let it escape would have been an utter disgrace.
The Duke pressed his nape against the wall. Tilting his head slightly upward, he began moving his right hand actively, while bracing himself against the wall with his left.
Could it be… is it me he thinks of now?
The thought scorched him. He tried to steady himself, but his body betrayed.
Another sigh. A bit louder, heavier. A creak of the bed. The Duke heard the last languid moan, and squeezed himself harder. Then he bent double from the force of his peak and cummed into his hand.
On the other side of the wall, Alex lay breathless, chastising himself in silence, unable to find peace. Not two days had passed, and yet he was once again caught in this storm of desire. Exhaustion overcame him, and he forced himself up to set things in order before collapsing back into bed.
Nathan crouched where he stood, trying to quiet his ragged breathing. He thought he heard steps.
God…
Only when the bed creaked once more, signaling Alex had lain down again, did Nathan dare to move. At last he forced himself to go to the bath. In the mirror he caught sight of himself — a bit of blood staining his lips from the effort of keeping silent. By tomorrow, it would surely betray him. He tried to lie down as quietly as possible, so that no one could ever suspect what had happened tonight.
A knock at the door.
The Duke reluctantly opened his eyes. He was terribly sleepy. Raising himself slightly in bed, he spoke in a hoarse voice:
— "Come in."
Sebastian entered and wished his master a good morning, then pulled open the curtains. Outside, the sky was overcast.
— "Your Grace, you asked me to wake you at half past seven."
— "Yes, yes, thank you." The Duke rose mechanically and headed toward the bathroom.
— "Your Grace—"
— "Yes, Sebastian?"
— "Lady Ophelia departed for home early this morning."
What? Ophelia… I completely forgot! She stayed the night in the castle, and I utterly forgot. Why would she leave so early?
— "Sebastian, did she say anything?"
— "No, Your Grace."
— "How did she look?"
— "I would not presume to judge."
— "What was your impression, Sebastian?"
— "Perhaps a bit tired. She smiled, though."
— "I see…"
Nathan felt a wave of shame. Alex had so wholly consumed his attention that he had completely forgotten about her. He would need to meet with Ophelia soon and…
I suppose I must tell her the… news?
The Duke splashed his face with cold water.
— "My Lord, shall I wake the Young Lord Carlston?"
— "No, I'll do it myself."
— "As you wish."
The Duke composed himself, dressed, and made his way toward Alex's chambers. He hesitated — should he knock?
What if it frightened him? He has been through so much. What if he forgot where he was? Would it be too much if I entered and woke him gently?
The Duke decided. He quietly stepped into the room. The air was icy and damp because the window had been left open. Nathan recalled the sound of that window being pushed wide… and what had followed after.
No, no, no.
He shook his head, as if that could rid him of the thoughts. Then he approached Alex, who was deeply asleep. Nathan held his breath for a moment. The boy lay on his back, arms slightly outstretched, his hair fanned across the pillow. His face was serene.
He is unbearably beautiful.
The Duke drew closer, uncertain what to do. Standing at the bedside, he whispered softly:
— "Alex…"
There was no response.
— "Young Lord," he tried a little louder.
Still nothing.
The Duke slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, hoping the movement would rouse him. Nothing. He leaned closer and touched Alex's shoulder.
He's completely exhausted. Such a pity to wake him.
Nathan gently brushed his beloved's cheek with his fingers.
— "Alex."
The Young Lord squinted slightly, then cracked open his eyes. For a moment he stared blankly at Nathan, not yet aware he was awake — until realization struck.
He sat up sharply. Nathan drew back his hand.
— "My God… what time is it?"
— "Eight o'clock."
— "Oh, I must hurry, before anyone at home wakes up!" Alex cast a quick glance at Nathan. "What… what happened to your lip?"
— "Oh…" He instinctively raised a hand to his mouth. Flustered, he rose from the bed.
— "Nothing—it seems I struck it or grazed it this morning. Nothing serious."
Alex was puzzled but gave it no more thought. He rose and began to dress. The Duke gathered himself and moved toward the door.
Hearing it open, Alex spoke instinctively:
— "Wait."
Nathan stopped and looked back at him.
— "Good morning," Alex said shyly, smiling.
Nathan's heart leapt.
— "Good morning," he replied with a smile, then slipped away to his own room.
The Young Lord finished dressing and knocked on Nathan's door some time later. Together they descended. Alex declined breakfast, claiming he was in a hurry. They left the manor and made their way to the stables.
Soul, spotting her master, began to neigh and paw at the ground.
— "She is not accustomed to the different stalls."
— "If there's anything I can do to make her feel at home, please tell me."
Alex looked at the Duke in surprise, then smiled, stroking Soul's nose. Afterward, he began to saddle her. Nathan silently, with a faint smile, watched his beloved. He couldn't get enough of him. He dreaded their parting, though he felt too shy to confess it. So, instead, he followed Alex's every movement with his gaze, as though trying to drink him in before the coming separation.
Once the mare was ready, the Young Lord took her by the reins, and they walked out.
Alex, too, felt loath to part from Nathan, but he didn't know how it would sound if he said so aloud. He glanced again at the Duke and noticed the dried blood still on his lip. The Duke seemed to sense Alex's gaze and hurried to change the subject.
— "When… when might you be able to—"
— "I could come after lunch," Alex blurted suddenly. "I… I haven't played in some time, so if you have no engagements—"
— "With pleasure!" Nathan exclaimed—perhaps too eagerly.
Alex smiled, nodded, mounted Soul, and rode off toward home.
The Duke returned indoors with a foolish smile on his face.
— "My Lord, you pressed me insistently to remind you of the documents awaiting in your study, requiring—"
— "Yes, Sebastian, thank you. I'll see to them at once. Please have something brought to the study for me to eat."
— "Yes, my Lord," said Sebastian, surprised — he had clearly expected the Duke to invent some reason to ignore his work.
— "And, please…"
— "Yes, my Lord?"
— "I have a request. An urgent request. Yesterday, while walking through the manor… I noticed that in my mother's chambers the fireplace was not laid in properly. I suspect there's some repair needed — to seal everything as it should be, without… gaps or cracks. Please see to it today."
— "At once," said Sebastian, then withdrew.