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I found myself with a spare hour so here's an extra chapter of 'Sunblind'. With smut!
Previous parts here
Chapter Five
Ethan studied his reflection in the mirror and adjusted his cravat.
“You look elegance personified,” Giles said, coming up behind him and undoing all his good work with an embrace and a lightning-swift kiss, his arms encircling Ethan’s waist.
He leaned back just enough to feel the comforting press of Giles’ body and then straightened. “Of course I do.” Without another glance, he turned and smiled his most brilliant smile. “Elegant, debonair and absolutely terrified.”
“Of what?” Giles said. “You adore playing the host and it was your idea that they come to stay. What troubles you?”
Ethan gave him a glance as sour as the taste in his mouth. Did Rupert really not know how often the name ‘Wesley’ had been on his lips the last few days? Wesley would be intrigued by the medallion, Wesley would know whether that word translated as ‘night’ or the more precise ‘midnight’, Wesley would be able to solve the riddle that prevented them from furthering their research past a certain point...
“Could it be that your friend Angel seems to be travelling in rather more state than last time and I positively tremble at the thought of a duke in my humble home?” he said, airing a concern that was entirely fabricated and would, in any case, have paled before the sick apprehension that he might lose Rupert’s attention and be unable to control his own reaction to that. “Did you miss the arrival of his outrider to inform us, oh so loftily, that the Duke would be honouring us with his presence in an hour?”
“Ethan!” Giles protested. “’Tis a common courtesy, no more. Angel is the last man to parade his rank and well you know it. If he travels this time by coach –”
“Two coaches,” Ethan said. “One for himself and his two friends, one for their men servants and a prodigious amount of luggage if what Molly tells me is true.”
“’Molly’?” Giles asked. “Is she not the kitchen maid?”
“She, ah, brought refreshments to the outrider,” Ethan replied a little evasively. He really did not wish to confess that he’d waylaid her and teased the slight information she’d gathered as she flirted with the man, out of her. Forewarned was forearmed...a useful precept, that.
He got a long, considering look from Giles and met it with a bland smile.
“Well, they’ll be here soon,” Giles said, “and truly, you have to do naught but be yourself for them to be as charmed as I.”
Ethan stared out of the window. Dusk had deepened the blue sky to purple and a faint cloud of dust hovering over the distant trees seemed to indicate that his visitors were imminent. He moved to Giles’ side and captured his lips in a long kiss, his fingers hard against Giles’ face. “And do I charm you in all my moods then?” he said softly. “Even when I’m ill-tempered, jealous and possessive?”
His hand was gripped in one as strong and pulled away. “I prefer you otherwise, but, yes, you cannot make me disenchanted with you, Ethan,” Giles said, linking their fingers and rubbing his thumb reassuringly against Ethan’s hand. “I know you too well; love you too much for that to happen.” He kissed Ethan with a sweetness that disarmed him and stepped back. “It will all be well, love. I promise.”
***
“This is going to be a disaster,” Angel said, his dark brows drawn together in a thick line. “Wesley, can you not persuade him to stop?”
“I?” Wesley asked, abandoning the book he was reading and following Angel’s glance. “What makes you think that he would mind me, when your requests, commands and outright pleas have been fruitless?”
Angel growled. “William!” he said, his voice sharp. “If you do not put down your pencil I will – I will eat it.”
“Perhaps you might simply throw it from the window?” Wesley suggested, a faint smile the only indication of his amusement. “But, really, Angel, Spi- William, rather, is being less of an annoyance than you. I’ve scarcely been able to read a page without you voicing some complaint.”
He got a goaded, desperate look from the man beside him. “Wesley, ‘tis like we travel alone; he pays us no mind, he speaks not, neither does he listen. It enrages me.”
The object of their attention favoured them both with a smile of singular sweetness as he nibbled the end of his pencil and then bent his head over the paper he held. His Muse had not been kind; scarcely five sheets of paper lay in crumpled ruin at his feet and inspiration was clearly lacking, for the sheet before him was sadly blank.
“There,” Wesley murmured, patting Angel’s leg. “He smiled at us.”
“Through us,” Angel said through gritted teeth. “He smiled through us, Wesley, as though we were but phantoms. Do you know,” he dragged his gaze away from the poet and gave Wesley a look of pure anguish, “I tried to kiss him this morning and he pushed me aside and hurried to his writing desk because he’d bethought himself of the precise adjective to describe my eyes?”
“So he is still writing about us then,” Wesley said hopefully. “We are still his inspiration?”
“I do not wish to be immortalised in verse,” Angel said heavily. “I wish him to be as he was; ours wholeheartedly.”
“It is a hobby,” Wesley said. “He will tire of it as he tired of collecting snuff boxes. And to be frank, Angel, he is less tedious than you when you are in the grip of a sudden enthusiasm.”
“I beg your pardon?” Angel said. “I was not aware that –”
“You took me to the same opera no fewer than eight times in three weeks,” Wesley said, “simply because one song in the whole caught your fancy. I have nightmares still, and they’re all in Italian.”
“You did not have to accompany me,” Angel said, his mouth sulky. “If you had cried off, I would merely have –”
“Pouted,” Wesley said cheerfully, leaning close and kissing Angel. “And well you know that I cannot resist–”
He was interrupted by a kiss so enthusiastic that it left him breathless. “That got his attention,” Angel whispered against his lips. “I swear it did.”
Uncertain as to whether he was annoyed at being kissed for such a reason or relieved that William had roused from his absorption, and Angel from his fit of the sullens, Wesley pulled back slightly, only to find Angel’s hand taking advantage of the space between them and tracing a path from his throat to his breeches.
“Angel!” Wesley protested, his breath catching as Angel’s hand grew bolder in its caresses. “We cannot –”
“Why can we not?” Angel said, reaching out to tug closed the curtains that hung at each window. The coach was luxurious; wide, padded seats making even the longest journeys comfortable and fitted out with all manner of conveniences. “There; we are private and we are still far from our destination. I wager I can make the time pass pleasantly.”
The gathering dusk had been making it difficult to read and now that the curtains were drawn it was impossible. :Wesley sighed, giving William a sidelong glance and realising that Angel was correct; William was still, to outward appearances, lost in the throes of creation, but his gaze was directed at the two seated across from him and his breath quickened as Angel undid Wesley’s breeches with a deft hand.
Wesley could not help but gasp as warm fingers stroked his hardening shaft until he was as aroused as if this were not a ploy. And indeed, as Angel’s mouth sought his, Wesley had little to complain of on that score; all Angel’s attention was on him and that was both delightful and thrilling. Blindly reaching out to return the caresses that were overcoming his shyness at behaving so, with the coachman but a few feet away, though to be sure, unable to hear them over the thunder of the hooves against the road, he found Angel’s cock to be more than ready to be touched; thick and heavy against his circling fingers, already slick with evidence of his interest.
They remained locked in each other’s arms for a time, languid kisses and slow thrusts against eager hands keeping their ardour within their control. Then, impatience overcoming him, Angel pushed Wesley back so that he was reclining against the soft cushions, and slid to his knees in the swaying coach.
Wesley closed his eyes, biting back a rapturous moan as Angel’s tongue lapped briefly at him, before his lips closed around the head of Wesley’s cock, sucking with an insistent hunger that had Wesley’s hips lifting imploringly as he tried to sheathe himself deeper inside the warm wetness that felt so delightfully welcoming.
He had all but forgotten the silent watcher to their sport, so intent was he on the sensations sweeping over him as Angel’s hands, first gentle and then demanding, cupped his balls and slid upwards to grip the base of his cock. Head swimming, he cried out in gratitude as Angel ceased his loving torment and allowed Wesley’s cock to slide deep within his mouth, using tongue and teeth to devastating effect.
Wesley could not spare the effort required to force open his eyes, but he was dimly aware of a rustle and a low word of protest that must surely be from William because ‘twas impossible for Angel to speak intelligibly and he himself had nothing to protest save that this ecstasy would be over far too soon were Angel to do that again...
A kiss, a flickering tongue against his own, and the soft brush of a hand against his heated cheek told Wesley that William had joined them, roused finally from his dreams. He returned the kiss eagerly, whimpering against the tongue that seemed to thrust within his mouth even as his cock was pushing between Angel’s parted lips. The thought that they were once again three was all it took for him to climax, crying out as he did so. He felt William move away and opened his eyes in time to see William’s fair head between Angel’s thighs, and to hear Angel call out as he had done, his fingers tight on William’s shoulders.
Utterly spent, Wesley lay back and watched William smile up into Angel’s face and be pulled into his arms and kissed soundly.
“So is this what we must do to get your attention?” Angel said, his hand rumpling up the carefully tumbled curls on William’s bright head. “Wesley and I need only embrace to have you come running?”
“No,” William drawled, reaching out to capture Wesley’s hand in his own and using it to pull himself up to sit beside him. “’Twas more that I finally achieved a passably good rhyme for ‘azure’ and as I had no wish to perfume the lily, I chose to take a well earned rest from my labours.”
“You mean, “Angel said slowly, seating himself beside William, “that had you still been wrestling with your recalcitrant rhyme, you would have paid us no heed?”
“A fair enough assessment of the situation, I suppose,” William said offhandedly. “When genius burns, all other flames flicker and die.”
Wesley winced. Angel looked...displeased, and truthfully, he could not find it in him to blame him.
“Then shall we see if I can kindle a flame that will burn long after it is lit?” Angel enquired softly, his lips curving in a pleasant smile. One large hand took hold of William’s collar and used the grip to haul him down across Angel’s knee; the other was soon put to work after Wesley, lips set in disapproving lines, had dealt with the barrier posed by William’s primrose-tinted pantaloons.
The coach swept up the long driveway and drew to a halt, but it was some minutes before the waiting footman was allowed to open the door and help down the three gentlemen inside - and Ethan could take comfort, as he greeted his guests a moment later, in reflecting that he was by far the smartest dressed. One had to make allowances for the rigours of travel, of course, but really, Rupert’s friends seemed positively dishevelled, and it was decidedly odd that William stood, refusing all attempts to seat him, until they were called into dinner.
Previous parts here
Chapter Five
Ethan studied his reflection in the mirror and adjusted his cravat.
“You look elegance personified,” Giles said, coming up behind him and undoing all his good work with an embrace and a lightning-swift kiss, his arms encircling Ethan’s waist.
He leaned back just enough to feel the comforting press of Giles’ body and then straightened. “Of course I do.” Without another glance, he turned and smiled his most brilliant smile. “Elegant, debonair and absolutely terrified.”
“Of what?” Giles said. “You adore playing the host and it was your idea that they come to stay. What troubles you?”
Ethan gave him a glance as sour as the taste in his mouth. Did Rupert really not know how often the name ‘Wesley’ had been on his lips the last few days? Wesley would be intrigued by the medallion, Wesley would know whether that word translated as ‘night’ or the more precise ‘midnight’, Wesley would be able to solve the riddle that prevented them from furthering their research past a certain point...
“Could it be that your friend Angel seems to be travelling in rather more state than last time and I positively tremble at the thought of a duke in my humble home?” he said, airing a concern that was entirely fabricated and would, in any case, have paled before the sick apprehension that he might lose Rupert’s attention and be unable to control his own reaction to that. “Did you miss the arrival of his outrider to inform us, oh so loftily, that the Duke would be honouring us with his presence in an hour?”
“Ethan!” Giles protested. “’Tis a common courtesy, no more. Angel is the last man to parade his rank and well you know it. If he travels this time by coach –”
“Two coaches,” Ethan said. “One for himself and his two friends, one for their men servants and a prodigious amount of luggage if what Molly tells me is true.”
“’Molly’?” Giles asked. “Is she not the kitchen maid?”
“She, ah, brought refreshments to the outrider,” Ethan replied a little evasively. He really did not wish to confess that he’d waylaid her and teased the slight information she’d gathered as she flirted with the man, out of her. Forewarned was forearmed...a useful precept, that.
He got a long, considering look from Giles and met it with a bland smile.
“Well, they’ll be here soon,” Giles said, “and truly, you have to do naught but be yourself for them to be as charmed as I.”
Ethan stared out of the window. Dusk had deepened the blue sky to purple and a faint cloud of dust hovering over the distant trees seemed to indicate that his visitors were imminent. He moved to Giles’ side and captured his lips in a long kiss, his fingers hard against Giles’ face. “And do I charm you in all my moods then?” he said softly. “Even when I’m ill-tempered, jealous and possessive?”
His hand was gripped in one as strong and pulled away. “I prefer you otherwise, but, yes, you cannot make me disenchanted with you, Ethan,” Giles said, linking their fingers and rubbing his thumb reassuringly against Ethan’s hand. “I know you too well; love you too much for that to happen.” He kissed Ethan with a sweetness that disarmed him and stepped back. “It will all be well, love. I promise.”
***
“This is going to be a disaster,” Angel said, his dark brows drawn together in a thick line. “Wesley, can you not persuade him to stop?”
“I?” Wesley asked, abandoning the book he was reading and following Angel’s glance. “What makes you think that he would mind me, when your requests, commands and outright pleas have been fruitless?”
Angel growled. “William!” he said, his voice sharp. “If you do not put down your pencil I will – I will eat it.”
“Perhaps you might simply throw it from the window?” Wesley suggested, a faint smile the only indication of his amusement. “But, really, Angel, Spi- William, rather, is being less of an annoyance than you. I’ve scarcely been able to read a page without you voicing some complaint.”
He got a goaded, desperate look from the man beside him. “Wesley, ‘tis like we travel alone; he pays us no mind, he speaks not, neither does he listen. It enrages me.”
The object of their attention favoured them both with a smile of singular sweetness as he nibbled the end of his pencil and then bent his head over the paper he held. His Muse had not been kind; scarcely five sheets of paper lay in crumpled ruin at his feet and inspiration was clearly lacking, for the sheet before him was sadly blank.
“There,” Wesley murmured, patting Angel’s leg. “He smiled at us.”
“Through us,” Angel said through gritted teeth. “He smiled through us, Wesley, as though we were but phantoms. Do you know,” he dragged his gaze away from the poet and gave Wesley a look of pure anguish, “I tried to kiss him this morning and he pushed me aside and hurried to his writing desk because he’d bethought himself of the precise adjective to describe my eyes?”
“So he is still writing about us then,” Wesley said hopefully. “We are still his inspiration?”
“I do not wish to be immortalised in verse,” Angel said heavily. “I wish him to be as he was; ours wholeheartedly.”
“It is a hobby,” Wesley said. “He will tire of it as he tired of collecting snuff boxes. And to be frank, Angel, he is less tedious than you when you are in the grip of a sudden enthusiasm.”
“I beg your pardon?” Angel said. “I was not aware that –”
“You took me to the same opera no fewer than eight times in three weeks,” Wesley said, “simply because one song in the whole caught your fancy. I have nightmares still, and they’re all in Italian.”
“You did not have to accompany me,” Angel said, his mouth sulky. “If you had cried off, I would merely have –”
“Pouted,” Wesley said cheerfully, leaning close and kissing Angel. “And well you know that I cannot resist–”
He was interrupted by a kiss so enthusiastic that it left him breathless. “That got his attention,” Angel whispered against his lips. “I swear it did.”
Uncertain as to whether he was annoyed at being kissed for such a reason or relieved that William had roused from his absorption, and Angel from his fit of the sullens, Wesley pulled back slightly, only to find Angel’s hand taking advantage of the space between them and tracing a path from his throat to his breeches.
“Angel!” Wesley protested, his breath catching as Angel’s hand grew bolder in its caresses. “We cannot –”
“Why can we not?” Angel said, reaching out to tug closed the curtains that hung at each window. The coach was luxurious; wide, padded seats making even the longest journeys comfortable and fitted out with all manner of conveniences. “There; we are private and we are still far from our destination. I wager I can make the time pass pleasantly.”
The gathering dusk had been making it difficult to read and now that the curtains were drawn it was impossible. :Wesley sighed, giving William a sidelong glance and realising that Angel was correct; William was still, to outward appearances, lost in the throes of creation, but his gaze was directed at the two seated across from him and his breath quickened as Angel undid Wesley’s breeches with a deft hand.
Wesley could not help but gasp as warm fingers stroked his hardening shaft until he was as aroused as if this were not a ploy. And indeed, as Angel’s mouth sought his, Wesley had little to complain of on that score; all Angel’s attention was on him and that was both delightful and thrilling. Blindly reaching out to return the caresses that were overcoming his shyness at behaving so, with the coachman but a few feet away, though to be sure, unable to hear them over the thunder of the hooves against the road, he found Angel’s cock to be more than ready to be touched; thick and heavy against his circling fingers, already slick with evidence of his interest.
They remained locked in each other’s arms for a time, languid kisses and slow thrusts against eager hands keeping their ardour within their control. Then, impatience overcoming him, Angel pushed Wesley back so that he was reclining against the soft cushions, and slid to his knees in the swaying coach.
Wesley closed his eyes, biting back a rapturous moan as Angel’s tongue lapped briefly at him, before his lips closed around the head of Wesley’s cock, sucking with an insistent hunger that had Wesley’s hips lifting imploringly as he tried to sheathe himself deeper inside the warm wetness that felt so delightfully welcoming.
He had all but forgotten the silent watcher to their sport, so intent was he on the sensations sweeping over him as Angel’s hands, first gentle and then demanding, cupped his balls and slid upwards to grip the base of his cock. Head swimming, he cried out in gratitude as Angel ceased his loving torment and allowed Wesley’s cock to slide deep within his mouth, using tongue and teeth to devastating effect.
Wesley could not spare the effort required to force open his eyes, but he was dimly aware of a rustle and a low word of protest that must surely be from William because ‘twas impossible for Angel to speak intelligibly and he himself had nothing to protest save that this ecstasy would be over far too soon were Angel to do that again...
A kiss, a flickering tongue against his own, and the soft brush of a hand against his heated cheek told Wesley that William had joined them, roused finally from his dreams. He returned the kiss eagerly, whimpering against the tongue that seemed to thrust within his mouth even as his cock was pushing between Angel’s parted lips. The thought that they were once again three was all it took for him to climax, crying out as he did so. He felt William move away and opened his eyes in time to see William’s fair head between Angel’s thighs, and to hear Angel call out as he had done, his fingers tight on William’s shoulders.
Utterly spent, Wesley lay back and watched William smile up into Angel’s face and be pulled into his arms and kissed soundly.
“So is this what we must do to get your attention?” Angel said, his hand rumpling up the carefully tumbled curls on William’s bright head. “Wesley and I need only embrace to have you come running?”
“No,” William drawled, reaching out to capture Wesley’s hand in his own and using it to pull himself up to sit beside him. “’Twas more that I finally achieved a passably good rhyme for ‘azure’ and as I had no wish to perfume the lily, I chose to take a well earned rest from my labours.”
“You mean, “Angel said slowly, seating himself beside William, “that had you still been wrestling with your recalcitrant rhyme, you would have paid us no heed?”
“A fair enough assessment of the situation, I suppose,” William said offhandedly. “When genius burns, all other flames flicker and die.”
Wesley winced. Angel looked...displeased, and truthfully, he could not find it in him to blame him.
“Then shall we see if I can kindle a flame that will burn long after it is lit?” Angel enquired softly, his lips curving in a pleasant smile. One large hand took hold of William’s collar and used the grip to haul him down across Angel’s knee; the other was soon put to work after Wesley, lips set in disapproving lines, had dealt with the barrier posed by William’s primrose-tinted pantaloons.
The coach swept up the long driveway and drew to a halt, but it was some minutes before the waiting footman was allowed to open the door and help down the three gentlemen inside - and Ethan could take comfort, as he greeted his guests a moment later, in reflecting that he was by far the smartest dressed. One had to make allowances for the rigours of travel, of course, but really, Rupert’s friends seemed positively dishevelled, and it was decidedly odd that William stood, refusing all attempts to seat him, until they were called into dinner.