A Christmas Cotillion

could say anything, Nicholas continued quietly, “As neither am I.”
His frankness took Jonathan’s breath away. The wind taken out of his sails, he waited as Nicholas carried on.
“I’ve been watching you,” he said quietly, “and when you are not being the perfect guest, you look so sad, and alone. And so very handsome,” Nick continued with a ghost of a smile.
Jonathan almost blushed, unused to such openness. Never before had anyone made themselves this assailable to him.
“So, as you might be leaving soon and you have always been accompanied until now, I thought this might be my only chance,” Nick said quietly, gazing into the fire.
“I’ve watched you too,” Jonathan said in a rush of honesty that brought Nick’s head around sharply.
He paused and said in a serious tone, that blue gaze burning into Jonathan’s soul. “Do you like what you see?”
Jonathan held his breath for a moment, sensing this was some kind of crucial turning point. He met that intense regard as he replied, “Very much.”
“If I have your permission,” Nick said, his mouth curving in a smile, but his eyes still deadly serious, “I would dearly care to do something about that.”
He took Jonathan’s gasp as consent and in that elegance of movement that Jonathan so admired, Nick slid to his knees in front of him. His hands were so warm on Jonathan’s thighs, that smiling mouth unutterably tempting and so close to his.
Jonathan was suddenly unbearably aroused, just by Nick’s proximity. “Someone might come in,” he protested faintly.
“I locked the door,” Nick said, his eyes smiling. “In hope of, well,” his grin was oddly vulnerable and self-deprecating, “…this.” With that, he leaned up to kiss Jonathan on the mouth.
His heart almost stopped beating with the sensation of those beautifully shaped lips on his. Nick drew away slightly, his hand cupping Jonathan’s face. “The most sorrowful eyes,” he murmured. “I want to kiss away all that sadness,” he said as he started to kiss Jonathan’s neck.
A few frantic minutes later, Jonathan’s neckcloth lay in a crumpled heap on the floor while Nick’s hands explored the bare skin below the open shirtfront, tweaking his nipples while that insistent mouth dwelt on the sensitive points of his neck and throat.
One hand trailed up his thigh and gently squeezed his aroused length, Nick moaned into his shoulder in response to the feel of Jonathan’s hardness as the hand began to rub insistently.
Aware that the slightest touch would make him spend, he grasped the hand, stilling it. As Nick looked up surprise and a little alarm that he had done something wrong, Jonathan tried to find the words to explain. “It’s been so long, I won’t last any time,” he stammered almost desperately.
Those deep blue eyes gleamed with understanding and need. “It doesn’t matter,” Nick said, and with a gentle kiss on Jonathan’s mouth, his hands deftly unbuttoned him and delved into his small clothes.
Jonathan’s cock sprung up rudely, rock hard, and the tip swollen and deep red. “Wonderful,” Nick said, smiling dreamily before he dipped his head in a smooth gesture and swallowed him whole. For a second Jonathan froze before the heat of that warm adept mouth pushed him over the brink almost immediately and he exploded in a blaze of pleasure.
The sensation was so intense that it took a few minutes to recover himself. He looked down to see Nick tonguing him gently, before rubbing his softening shaft against his cheek in a caressing gesture, his eyes full of warmth.
“I’m so sorry,” Jonathan began to apologise wretchedly.
“Don’t,” Nick said gently. “You were perfect.”
With that, he reached up to kiss him tenderly. The taste of Jonathan’s own essence did not seem strange but added to the intimacy of the moment.
“But what about you?” Jonathan gasped out, once Nick’s mouth had released him. He could not help but notice the admirable bulge straining the fabric of Nick’s evening breeches.
Nick cupped his face again, as if memorising the line of his jaw.
“I can wait,” he replied with a dreamy smile. “But for now,” he continued with a sigh. “I’d better return to the drawing-room or I will be missed.”
As he rose to his feet, Jonathan blurted out, “Perhaps…”
“Yes?” Nick looked at him, poised.
Jonathan took a deep breath for courage. “Perhaps, afterwards? Once everyone is in bed, you can come to me?”
Nick’s eyes blazed with warmth. “Yes, please,” he said simply.
They heard a shout of laughter from the drawing-room and with a rueful grin, Nick moved towards the door. As he unlocked and opened it, he turned and murmured in a near-whisper, “Later,” before leaving the room.
Almost in a daze, Jonathan tidied himself up, in case anyone should enter the library and find him in a guilty state of luxurious dishabille. He poured himself another bumper of brandy from the carafe Nick had left behind and picked up his book, his thoughts whirling.
After that unexpected, wonderful encounter he felt both drained and energised at the same time. It was as though his world had been suddenly turned upside down and he no longer knew how to think or feel. Which is no bad thing, he thought, as even though his normally astute brain felt like it had been stuffed with feathers, his heart no longer felt ashen, empty, and full of nothing but old memories and regrets. Suddenly, his world was full of discovery and budding hope.

Chapter 11
Jonathan retired to bed that night in an unaccustomed state of nerves and anticipation. As it was still relatively early, only the elderly had reached their own chambers. As he ascended the stairs, candle holder, book, and glass of brandy balanced in his hands, he could hear music and laughter drifting into the hallway from the drawing-room.
When he walked into his room, it was as if he was seeing it with another’s eyes. Removing his clothes, he reached for his nightshirt, placing the glass and the candle by the bed. Although the room was comfortably furnished, in the week or so he had been staying there,