Chapter Text
Chapter One: The morning after
Chiswick
26 October, 1856
Tuesday - Near Midnight
The Caelum Estate was dark when night settled in. The butler had turned down the gas lamps and retired for the evening. Darkness muted the upstairs—the ornate sofas, the intricately carved credenzas, the sprawling Georgian architecture. Even the narrow corridors and whitewashed walls of the downstairs were quiet. Nearly the entire household was asleep.
The only source of light, flickering and weak, was a candle in the downstairs kitchen.
Ignis and Gladiolus sat around the servants’ dinner table. Their grim faces, illuminated by the dull yellow light of the candle, were interchangeable: Tight-lipped and humorless. They had been sitting in that exact spot for over an hour. At this point there was no conversation left. They stared at their own hands on the tabletop. Useless. Motionless, for lack of a better alternative. Weary.
“I could try King Street again,” Gladiolus murmured. The scarred side of his face was swathed in shadow. His cheek twitched anxiously as he spoke. “Maybe head down a little further.”
“Where, past Hammersmith? Into West Kensington?” Ignis flexed his gloved hands helplessly.
“Yeah, or maybe the other way.” A heavy sigh escaped the bulky footman’s lips. “By Gunnersbury. They could’ve gone over there too, I guess.”
Ignis shook his head stiffly, dismissing the thought. “No. Why would they have gone west? Noctis wanted to be seen. He would’ve certainly gone east into town.”
“I’m telling you, I went as far as Old Brompton. Near the Crescent.” Gladiolus leaned back in his seat, further away from the light. “No sign of them. It’s lucky Nyx even agreed to give me a ride in the brougham carriage or else I’d be dead on my feet, heading over that far. No way those two made it any farther than that.”
There, Ignis tilted his head in small agreement. That much must be true. Walking, Prompto and Noctis could have gone no further west.
“Should I go wake him?” Eager to jump on some form of action, Gladiolus gripped the table and made to stand. “Head east? Look for these two idiots near the fields? Or along the Thames maybe?”
The light caught in Ignis’s glasses, obscuring his sharp green eyes for a moment. He considered the idea.
Prompto and Noctis were supposed to return home at 7:00 in the evening. Eight at the latest, Noctis promised. The plan was, they would have their fun, stroll about as man and woman (that is to say, “woman”), maybe go for dinner in town. That’s all. By 8:30, Ignis had anticipated welcoming his master and his master’s young blond friend home for the night. Drawing a bath and figuring out how to get Noctis out of all those layers. The petticoats, chemisette, corset, and dress….Ignis had been considering it for the better part of the afternoon.
Except, when 7:00 rolled around, the pair was nowhere to be seen. They waited, 7:30. Then 8:00. Finally 8:30, still no sign of the lord’s son and his middle-class friend. By 9:00, Gladiolus had enough waiting. He rustled up the estate’s driver—Nyx, who had the day off, damn it—and went looking for them where Ignis imagined they might be. And yet, even scouring the streets from the window of a carriage turned up nothing.
When Gladiolus returned at 11:00, empty-handed, the two servants started to get worried. Sure, Noctis had been out this late before (much later in fact, sometimes he stayed out until morning). But. He had never been out and about dressed as a woman before. Bodice and bonnet, hint of rouge on his lips. No, that was a first.
And now he was missing. So was Prompto.
All the years of past stupidity ran on a loop through Ignis’s head. How many times had Noctis made him worry for his young master’s life, only to show up at the last possible second? There was the time Noctis had gotten into a bar fight with some ruffians. Gladiolus—admittedly the most well-built of all the servants, and the most unflinching loyal to Noctis for his own reasons—had to go and save his bumbling ass. The footman took a bottle to the eye in his lord’s defense, then both master and servant proceeded to plough through the entire gaggle of toughs, working in tandem. Ignis had been near collapse when Gladiolus and Noctis came home, bruised and bloodied, slashed in the face. But Noctis healed up without a scratch.
“Heh, I even amaze myself sometimes,” Noctis offered carelessly while Ignis patched up Gladiolus with nothing but top shelf scotch and tea cloths.
“Your ego is what amazes me,” Gladiolus grumbled.
Shrugging, Noctis stretched his bruised shoulder and just said, “What. I could’ve taken them. But, you know. Thanks for being a stand-up guy and everything, Gladio.”
“Hnh.”
Noctis smiled impetuously. White teeth shining, blue eyes excited. A singular look not many got the opportunity to see. “Guess you’re kind of like…my shield, or something…”
Even though he was still pissed, Gladiolus broke out into a half-smile. “What does that make you, a knight in shining armor? Or a princess?”
Shrugging, Noctis laid down on the servant’s bed (a move that would have made his father collapse through the floor if he had seen) and answered, “Don’t know. Maybe a little bit of both?”
Then there was the time Noctis spent the night in….a police station, for heaven’s sake. Prompto was the one who found him. He heard through the grapevine that a lord’s young son had been arrested for swimming in the Thames on Sunday (near the Chelsea docks) and something just told Prompto that it was probably his good buddy Noctis. His intuition proved correct when he showed up at the police station and found Noctis—drenched and manacled—snoozing in one of the jail cells. Devil may care.
Of course, that time, Prompto hurried to the Caelum estate and told Ignis what happened. The valet went immediately to the station—in disguise, mind you, for the shame—and bailed Noctis out. Not to mention, he needed to bribe all the policemen on duty to keep the matter under wraps. The whole affair cost Ignis nearly three month’s salary.
“What that boy needs is a good horse-whipping,” the constable asserted condescendingly.
“Noted, thank you, sir,” Ignis replied. He managed to lug a sleepy, wet Noctis onto his feet, into a hooded cloak and straight back home before any other prying eyes might catch on. (Of course, some already had, but there was only so much you could do in a public display like that.)
Once Noctis had been successfully dried off, warmed, and fed a decent breakfast in bed, Ignis finally let himself sit down. His charge had the devil’s own luck—or else his title afforded him far more allowance than any other man his own age.
Snuggling into the blankets, still exhausted from his swimming adventure, Noctis regarded Ignis with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about this one, Iggy. Didn’t mean for it to go that far. I’ll find a way to make it up to you, I promise.”
Relieved by a clean end to a difficult morning, Ignis just nodded in his master’s direction. Face considerably softer. “Just make sure this doesn’t happen again, Noct. I can’t bail you out twice and still manage to sneak it by his Lordship.”
“Got it.”
To be fair, Noctis at least stayed out of the Thames—and the sodding police station—up until now. Also, he did make it up to Ignis; he bought his valet an expensive book about astrology. Some recent findings Ignis was fascinated by. In all likelihood, Ignis might have spent his three month’s salary on just that book. Plus, Noctis spent a whole day with Ignis pouring over the text, learning about the stars.
Although they were lifetimes away in station, Ignis and Noctis knew each other as well as brothers. As did the third footman/“shield,” Gladiolus. For both Ignis and Gladiolus, the distinction between servitude and family was very slim. Sometimes there was no distinction at all. They mostly regarded Noctis as a wayward little brother. Impulsive, troublesome. But theirs.
This time, though. Noctis was taking it a bit far.
Gladiolus had been against the cross-dressing idea from the beginning. He knew all about the eyes of men from watching his little sister grow up. No part of him wanted to expose Noctis—who Gladiolus knew would look fucking beautiful and far too convincing in a day gown—to that side of the world. However, Ignis had not seen the harm in such a thing. At least wearing a dress was not an incitement of violence, he thought. Not directly, anyway.
Besides, Ignis trusted Prompto to stay by Noctis’s side the entire time. He never questioned Prompto’s loyalty. He knew the close bond between them as well. Prompto was the one friend Noctis had successfully managed to make among the townspeople. A boy from a middle-class household; his father was one of Lord Regis’s accountants. Not many young men took a liking to standoffish gentry boys with a dour, serious face and a chip on their shoulder. But Prompto could look past all that. See the fun-loving (if impish) side of the young Caelum. And Noctis cherished him for that. Once they got over the awkward boyhood phase, Prompto and Noctis were ever at each other’s sides.
But perhaps…Ignis considered letting Gladiolus take the carriage and search again. Maybe Ignis had been wrong about this one.
After all, women attracted a particular kind of violence, didn’t they. Crimes of passion, of greed and lust. Ignis knew that—everyone did—but it had not occurred to him the way it had to Gladiolus. Now though, Ignis could not help imagining his master laying in the street somewhere with a torn bodice. Maybe Noctis was hurt, cut or beaten. Maybe he was drowning in his own shame—or maybe—
Ignis steeled himself by curling his gloved fingers into a fist.
“Perhaps you should search near the taverns, Gladio,” Ignis said softly. He glanced at the clock and noted it was half-past midnight.
Gladiolus’s face darkened. “The taverns?”
“Yes.” Ignis pushed up his glasses with a stolid sweep of his hand. “The more…unsavory parts of town.”
They both said nothing for a while after that. The silence was serious and heavy. Far from losing their jobs—which has more or less a given at this point—they might have to start seriously considering reporting the incident to the police. Prompto had a family. They would be looking for him—
Rapid knocking on the servant’s entrance door startled them both. Sparing each other a glance, Ignis grabbed a nearby oil lamp and lit it with the candle. Steeling himself for whatever he might find, the valet took the lamp in hand and walked to the door.
A shaken, pale-faced Prompto stood outside waiting for him. He was shivering, although it was not yet cold. The top hat they had loaned him to play the part of the gentleman was mysteriously missing. Beyond that, Prompto’s face shone with sweat and he was out of breath.
“Ah. The prodigal Argentum returns, albeit late.” Ignis could smell the guilt wafting off Prompto like a heady cologne. “And minus one Master Caelum.”
Prompto blinked slowly, hanging his head. “Uh, yeah. Can…I come in?”
“I think you’d better.”
Grabbing Prompto by the collar, Ignis pulled the slim man inside and dragged him into the kitchen. He forcibly sat Prompto down in a chair between him and Gladiolus, flanking the blond on both sides by two men who had lost their patience for this game hours ago.
They let the piercing, painfully still silence bear down on Prompto.
“Right, so, ummm…” Prompto mopped his forehead with one of his over-sized sleeves. They had found that six piece suit in the closet. Heaven knew who it belonged to first. “I’ll…tell you what I know.”
Gladiolus let his heavy hand fall to the table with a loud thunk. Sure enough, Prompto flinched. He realized the threat for what it was.
“After we left, we uh….” Prompto combed a hand through his unevenly shorn blond hair. “Went to Ravenscourt Park. Just sort of walking around a bit, you know. Noctis got a kick out of it. You guys saw what he was like, I mean…”
Gladiolus cleared his throat pointedly.
Gulping, Prompto got on with the story. “So, what happened was…well, Noctis had the idea that he should…be alone. For a bit. You know, walk around without me. Only for like an hour or so and then—”
“Wait, wait.” Gladiolus got right in Prompto’s face. “You mean, you left him? Alone? Wearing that?”
“I-it was his idea!” Prompto waved his hands in exasperation. “He wanted to! A-and you know what he’s like! He, like, forced me to leave practically and I—!”
Anger whipped through Gladiolus like a bolt of lightning. He grabbed Prompto’s collar with both hands, snarling deeply, and lifted the smaller man out of his chair. Realizing his life was over and accepting his fate, Prompto went still and tried not to fight it.
“Gladio, enough.” Ignis put a steady hand on the footman’s shoulder. “That won’t help. Put him down.”
Even though his fists were shaking with rage, Gladiolus did as he was told. In times like this, he knew it was best to listen to Ignis’s advice. The valet had seen them through some nasty spats in the past. Still. Gladiolus dropped Prompto from a decent enough height that the thin-bodied man needed to catch himself on the table before he toppled to the ground.
Tears swam in Prompto’s baby blue eyes. The guilt he carried for leaving Noctis unattended turned to deep grief. “It was stupid, okay? I know…I shouldn’t have left him. I’m a fucking idiot! And now…!”
“Tell us the rest, Prompto,” Ignis urged. He gripped the younger man’s thin shoulder in small solace. Of course, Prompto was in the same kind of hell as himself and Gladiolus. The nagging regret, the not-knowing.
“…I left him in the park at like…4:00. I think.” He put his head in his hands, not acknowledging Ignis’s support. He didn’t feel he deserved it. “And then I went back to get him at 5:00. I went back to the same spot, right where we said we’d meet, but he….Noctis wasn’t there.”
“He wasn’t there,” Gladiolus deadpanned. “Go on.”
Prompto threw his hands out to the sides. “That’s it! He wasn’t where I left him! I waited there until 5:30, then I started to walk around. I looked everywhere, all over that fucking park, every corner, but I couldn’t find him! So I retraced our steps, walked back over every street we took. Nothing! He’s just…gone!”
By now, tears were streaming down Prompto’s cheeks. But he barely noticed. “I waited in Ravenscourt Park for another two hours after that. He didn’t show. So then I…walked all the way back here, thinking maybe Noct got bored or something and went home without waiting for me. But I guess he’s…not here.”
The withering looks from the two servants gave him his answer.
Prompto sniffed and wiped his face with one hand, making more of a mess than anything. “So yeah. That’s it. Now you know everything I do.”
Ignis took a deep, steadying breath. This was not good news. Left alone, Noctis’s whereabouts were now nothing more than a guessing game. With very few leads. In the best possible scenario, Noctis had gone for a long, gallivanting sort of walk and perhaps lost his way, but he was heading back to the estate as they spoke. In every other case—all much more likely—Noctis was…abducted. Or worse.
The valet closed his eyes and adjusted his glasses. An ironic force of habit.
“…What do we do now?” Prompto asked quietly.
Clearing his throat, straightening his shoulders—very aware that the other two men were looking at him—Ignis plopped himself back into his chair.
“By now, Noctis could conceivably be anywhere in London, so there’s no sense scouring the streets,” he announced. “Well then. Gladio. Take the carriage and go wait by Ravenscourt Park. In the most conspicuous place possible so that if Noctis is, somehow, still in that area he’ll be able to find you. If heaven forbid he’s hurt, we’ll need to get him home as soon as we can. So have Nyx drive you.”
“Right.” Not needing anything else, Gladiolus strode out of the kitchen to wake Nyx.
“As for us,” Ignis turned to Prompto. “We wait until morning. And, we pray that Noctis has the wherewithal to come straight home from wherever he is. He’ll most definitely require our assistance when he returns.”
“That’s it?” Prompto couldn’t believe his ears. He had not been expecting inaction—especially from Ignis of all people!
“Yes.” Ignis closed his eyes again. Not sleeping, blocking everything else out as he tried to imagine where on earth Noctis might have gotten swept off to.
“Patience,” he murmured to Prompto, losing himself in thought as he listened to the distant sounds of Gladiolus and Nyx rousing the horses for a dire night ride. “It’s the best we can do for now.”
This was after all another one of Noctis’s games. Ignis had learned time after time that the best move was to wait it out, instead of flying off the handle. But this time Noctis was testing the very limits of Ignis’s composure.
_____________________________________________________
Kingston Upon Thames
26 October, 1856
Tuesday - Early Morning
“Ardyn, I can’t…I can’t anymore…!”
“Of course you can, darling.”
“No seriously, I can’t! I'm telling you tha—ahh!”
The sun was rising. Thin rays peaked through the heavy curtains of Ardyn’s bedroom window. The older man noticed out of the corner of his eye, but Noctis…was otherwise occupied.
As promised, Ardyn made love to Noctis straight through the night. To be fair, they sometimes took breaks in between rounds. After all Ardyn was equipped with a hard-on that just wouldn’t fucking quit, and somehow the man was able to angle Noctis’s body in the most delicious ways. Knees back, over his head. On his side, split in half. On all fours, chest flush against the mattress. Legs and back up, off the bed, forcing Noctis into a near handstand.
Positions the younger man had certainly never tried before. Some that he hadn’t even thought were possible.
Bending every which way, moving however Ardyn told him to move, Noctis rode out orgasm after orgasm on the older man’s unyielding cock. Ardyn quickly learned how to move just so inside of Noctis, driving the thick head of his prick into the young master’s prostate until Noctis could do little more than throw his head back, scream, and explode into wet, teeth rattling ecstasy. Ardyn could hammer Noctis relentlessly, prying that lithe, pristine body wide open and totally vulnerable.
Or, Ardyn could rock into Noctis slowly. Staring him in the face, forcing their eyes to might. Pushing Noctis back whenever the young man tried to meet his lips in a kiss (more for relief from the intense stare than anything else, but Ardyn wouldn’t have it). Like this, Ardyn could build pleasure inside Noctis inch by inch, second by second, like pouring a glass of water one drop at a time. Just canting his hips forward, gently stroking the tip of Noctis’s dripping cock with one thumb…until, hours or days or years later Noctis could not take anymore and he came all over himself.
All in all, Noctis lost track of how many times he climaxed. By now, he had come apart at the seams and forgotten any other time before he’d gone to bed with Ardyn. His poor, strained testicles had given all they could give and Noctis was past the point where his orgasms were completely dry. But still, Ardyn fucked him. Giving him small, sweet moments where Noctis shivered through tremors that felt an orgasm, but couldn’t be, really. He forgot how to tell the difference between coming and not coming. Now, everything just felt like release. He had melted into one mushy pile of nerves and need, keening for Ardyn, wordlessly shaking his hips.
But, really. It was almost too much. Noctis could not possibly come one more time! He just couldn’t!
“You’ve done a remarkable job taking me, Noct,” Ardyn cooed, thrusting in and out of him, as easy as breathing. “And you’ve held up well. I’m impressed.”
Noctis’s mind was so jumbled, he did not register the compliment. There was no time to be smug about this. On his knees, the young master bent forward until his face met the sheets. Maybe if he got into a good position, Ardyn would finally come and then this could all be over. Noctis didn’t know if he could take much more!
Ardyn locked his hands around Noctis’s hips, pressing him into the bed with the force of his thrusting. Keeping the young lord in that position: Ass in the air, head down.
“But, I think I’m tired now. Time to give you what you’ve been waiting for, love.” Ardyn spoke casually, but he was out of breath. The night’s strain was wearing on him too, it seemed.
“Dude, how are you still hard…?” Noctis turned his face around to stare up at the naked older man ramming into him.
There was awe on his face. Mixed in with some trace amounts of cum and whatever saliva had leaked out of him during the endless marathon. But that was all. No tears.
Grunting, Ardyn closed his eyes and let himself come. Finally. It was only his second time, up against….however many Noctis had endured.
A trickle of hot pleasure slithered through Noctis as he felt Ardyn release inside of him. He was so full. And his brain was still gone. Part of him wanted to see how much semen he could take. How many times Ardyn could fill him before he burst and his ass overflowed…but, then, the older man pulled out and Noctis was left gaping.
It seemed the night was over at last.
Ardyn collapsed onto the bed beside Noctis, heaving a contented sigh. His crimson hair was splayed all around his head, and his tight body was slick with sweat. Noctis took a moment just to stare at him.
Somehow he had gotten Ardyn naked (they both were, so that was only fair). With his shirt off and some light streaming into the room, Noctis could see the black sun tattoo on Ardyn’s chest in full clarity. He tried to commit the initials to memory. Not only that, Ardyn also had two other tattoos: One on his left bicep facing outward, seven stars in a strange, awkwardly spaced line. And one on his right forearm near his elbow, facing in, the underside of the arm. It looked like a tree with thick branches and long leaves, a snake wrapped around the trunk. The drawing was kind of bad, but maybe it was a weeping willow? Noctis peered closer to get a better look.
He stopped when he felt a burly hand on the side of his face. Ardyn was peering down at him, stroking his cheek in what looked like tired admiration.
“That…” Ardyn began slowly. His voice deeper than ever, cracking somewhat. “…was a hell of a thing, my dear. I quite enjoyed it.”
His mouth twitched into a smirk. “And evidently so did you.”
Noctis huffed. He laid down on Ardyn’s chest, feeling immersed in the sweaty smell of their love making and the now familiar slide of skin against skin. Had he enjoyed it? Hell yeah he did! There was nothing—no other experience in his life—quite like that. Even now, Noctis felt drained. Empty of everything except the need to be close to this strange man he had just met.
But he didn’t need to tell Ardyn that.
“Hmm…it was okay, I guess,” Noctis said flippantly. “But I mean, you know. You didn’t make me cry. And you promised you would make me cum so hard I burst into tears so…”
Noctis thought that little jab might offend Ardyn (some bizarre urge in him so badly wanted to see what would happen when Ardyn got mad), but instead, the older man just laughed.
He tucked some black hair behind Noctis’s ear and said, “That’s true. And I’ll admit, towards the end I started to go a little easy on you. A fancy of mine, perhaps.”
A little easy? Noctis’s eyes went wide, he couldn’t help it. How the hell was any of that an easy ride? Unless Ardyn was just fucking with him…yeah that had to be it. This guy was just playing like he was all that, when really…
…well, really, Noctis had completely lost himself for a long time there. Whether that was Ardyn’s best work or not, it hardly mattered. Ardyn had totally dominated him. Brought him to a point of completely unselfconscious pleasure.
And really, Noctis did not have a retort for that.
“But, it was your first time. So.” Ardyn heaved a sigh and rolled into a sitting position. He dragged Noctis up with him. “Come with me.”
“…Huh?”
Saying nothing, Ardyn dragged Noctis to his feet and half-carried him into the washroom. He set the bath to running (Noctis shivered in his nakedness, but he was yet again surprised that Ardyn could operate his bath without any assistance from his manservant…although, it did not seem like Ardyn had a valet, now that Noctis thought about it) and threw his guest into the tub.
“Let’s get you clean.”
Eyebrows bouncing, gold-flecked eyes alive with mirth, Ardyn picked up a brush and set to work scrubbing down Noctis. His hands were a bit rough—more than once, Noctis flinched in unexpected pain and Ardyn made some comment about how delicate the skin of a young lord was—but he got the job done. Quickly, efficiently. Before Noctis had any time to even think of something to say in protest. He wiped between Noctis’s legs as well, showing him how to clean up after a night spent in another man’s arms.
That part should have been…embarrassing. Noctis blushed a bit when he realized that Ardyn was still looking at him, watching his body with quiet appreciation.
“There’s a good boy,” Ardyn hummed when Noctis was clean and ostensibly empty of any manly fluids.
“Tch.” Noctis looked away.
He didn’t think about what time it was. He didn’t think about the sun that was already up. Nor the friend he had left behind in the park, or the anxious servants waiting for him at home. No. In fact, what Noctis wanted to do was crawl back into bed with Ardyn. Now that he was clean, Noctis’s body felt soft and pliable. His skin was already hungry for more touching. Ardyn’s bare body was delicious looking, Noctis thought, and he wanted to curl up against it.
Also he was getting a little sleepy.
In a rush of movement, Ardyn toweled Noctis dry and began fitting the young man into some spare clothes. Men’s clothes. A buttoned down shirt, some pantaloons, and a pair of trousers. He dressed Noctis the same way one would dress a small child, one arm at a time. Buttoning him up. Then one leg at a time. The clothes were baggy; the shirt hung off of Noctis and Ardyn needed to wrap a belt around Noctis’s waist as tight as he could to keep the pants from falling down. But they would do.
“Here.” Ardyn handed over the socks and boots Noctis had worn, gesturing for him to put them on.
Noctis rubbed his eye with one hand, confused. He looked over at Ardyn, wondering why they were not in bed again. Didn’t Ardyn want to fuck him one more time? One more meaning…infinitely more? He glanced between the older man’s legs to see if he was hard for him again (he had to be, right? After that bath?), but Ardyn turned around before Noctis could see. He stepped into his own pair of pants and gave his guest his back.
Bleary-eyed, Noctis noticed another tattoo on the older man’s back. Between his shoulder blades, there was a heavy black anchor. So, make that four tattoos in all. Or were there more somewhere else on his body…?
“I suppose I’ll keep this here with me,” Ardyn said, staring wistfully at the discarded purple dress, hoop skirt, and other female accoutrements Noctis had worn yesterday. When he looked back at Noctis, his face was bright with satisfaction. “It’ll be a nice reminder of our time together.”
Then his face immediately fell when he saw that Noctis was laying back down on the bed, nearly asleep.
Clicking his tongue and shaking his head (but still smiling) Ardyn got down on his knees and put Noctis’s socks on for him. He rolled the socks all the way up, strangely considerate even though he was clearly in a hurry.
“Really, Noct,” chided Ardyn. “I feel that you’re doing this intentionally, now. Can’t you get dressed by yourself?”
Dazed, head rolling around on his neck, Noctis told the truth. “Not really.”
After all, Noctis had been raised with the constant assistance of a valet. Every morning when he rose, someone (usually Ignis) was there to help him get dressed. Not that Noctis didn’t know how it worked, putting on pants and a shirt and all that, but it wasn’t natural for him either. If he was going to do it, he needed to actually think about it. So, now wasn’t a good time.
Saying nothing, Ardyn slid the shoes onto Noctis’s feet. He made to stand up. “I’ll leave you to lace these, shall I?”
“Umm, yeah, I…can…” Noctis was pretty sure he knew how to lace boots? In theory, how hard could it be? (Not that he’d ever actually done it before.) “Just give me a minute…” He flopped back down on the bed.
Whatever. Noctis couldn’t think about stupid things like lacing his own boots right now. His head was spinning and he needed at least an hour of sleep. His body was so drained. And weirdly cold? He wished that Ardyn would stop rushing around and just lay down next to him already. Why wasn’t he?
Without thinking, Noctis lifted his arms and beckoned Ardyn closer to him. As soon as Ardyn saw him like this, he would definitely take Noctis in his arms and carry him sweetly back to bed. That was exactly what Noctis wanted. Yes, just a little more…
Then he must have fallen asleep. Because when he came to, his boots were laced and he was sitting on the settee in Ardyn’s foyer. He noticed the man he’d spent several hours underneath standing, fully dressed, by the front door.
“Umm, so….?” The young lord didn’t know what else to say. Most other words were beyond him, anyway.
Aware that his guest was suddenly awake, Ardyn turned to Noctis with a gentle, distantly pleased expression. “I’ve asked Mr. Ulldor to call you a hansom cab.”
“What?” Noctis forced himself to stand. The clothes were loose, but at least his shoes felt normal. “Can’t I just take your carriage?”
A smile flashed across Ardyn’s face. “You could, certainly, if I owned one. Be that as it may, I do not. So. Hansom it is.”
Of course Noctis had seen hansom cabs before, the strange sort of two-wheeled carriages that crawled all over London and served as quick public transportation. A new invention, but all the rage now. Cheap. Convenient. Even though Noctis had never taken one himself. He had his own driver at home, so what was the need?
The front door opened and the off-putting butler from the night before stood in the doorway. He turned to the side, revealing a hansom waiting near the gate.
“Thank you, Mr. Ulldor,” Ardyn said sweetly. Giving no reply, the butler dismissed himself.
Now that they were alone, a sense of undue awkwardness settled over both of them. The reality of morning was not nothing. Many things had happened the night before. Several of them flashing through Noctis’s mind as they stood.
Heedless of that, Ardyn pulled Noctis into an embrace. He grabbed the young man by the chin and kissed him on the lips—not fully, no tongue, far too quick for anything Noctis had been craving. Still, the contact loosened Noctis’s body and he returned the kiss and the embrace, wrapping his arms around Ardyn’s neck.
Then the older man whispered softly in his ear, “Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss Caelum.”
There it was. Noctis might have been smiling—fuck, yeah he was smiling. He just liked the way that name sounded, especially coming from Ardyn’s lips…
But the moment ended too soon. Breaking their contact prematurely—enough to make Noctis mewl in indignation—Ardyn pushed Noctis out the door.
“Now, off with you! Come, come. In the hansom you go.” He shuffled Noctis across the meager front grounds of his townhouse, sweeping him into the tiny cab.
“Why do I…have to go…?” Noctis said. He was confused and vaguely hurt. Ardyn had closed the door between them. The distance carried a muted sting of rejection. There should have been more of that bitter feeling, but it was quickly replaced by surliness. And tiredness.
“Won’t your family be missing you, Noct?” Ardyn tutted. “Besides, I think it’s best to keep these spur of the moment arrangements to a limit of one night. Don’t you agree?”
“But…”
“Give the kind sir your address, Noct.” Ardyn was smiling, but his face left little room for argument.
Frazzled, Noctis quietly rattled off his address. If Ardyn was going to be like that, then fine! At least now Noctis could get some shut eye without anyone bothering him. His own bed sounded like a great idea.
Meanwhile, the hansom driver fiddled with the brim of his hat in exasperation. “Ain’t that the Caelum house? The Citadel? We goin’ there?”
“So it would seem, my good man.” Fishing in his pockets for a half shilling, Ardyn paid the driver in advance. “See that my friend gets there post haste, and in good condition.”
“You got it, sir!” With renewed vigor, the cabby clapped the reins and spurred the horse into action. He had just earned his morning’s wages and a decent lunch on top of it.
Leaning his head back against the rough leather of the cab, Noctis closed his eyes and told himself to forget about Ardyn. Good thing that old man didn’t want to fuck right now, because Noctis wasn’t in the mood for it, anyway! His ass was already sore. Probably would hurt like a bitch in an hour or so. Good riddance, then.
Pushing away all thoughts of a warm, male body pressed against his own, Noctis gave into his exhaustion and let the hansom rock him to sleep.
_____________________________________________
Chiswick
26 October, 1856
Tuesday - Morning
Dawn broke over the servants’ quarters at the Caelum estate with a particular kind of grimness. Ignis and Prompto sat around the kitchen table with faces as grey as cobblestone. The maids were already up, as were the cooks. Going about the business of starting the day. Everyone moved around the two servants who had been up all night as if they weren’t even there. A few people made comments that were not answered. So that was the end of it.
“It’s 7:00, Iggy…” Prompto said in a low, froggy voice. Barely sounding like himself. “What do we do?”
Ignis let out a long breath with the last of his hope. At this rate, Noctis had been killed or worse. When the truth came out, no doubt Lord Regis would throw Ignis out into the street for assisting in this depravity. It was his right. Beyond that, Ignis and Gladiolus would certainly never work again. No one would hire servants with a story like this on their heads. So they would face destitution, undoubtedly. Prompto would be in the line of fire as well. Lord Regis might very well bring legal charges against him if he didn’t believe his story…
Well then. If Ignis was going down, he would go down with dignity. Dusting off his immaculate shirt, the valet rose to his feet, inciting Prompto to do the same.
“We go to the police,” Ignis announced. His shoulders were perfectly square, his face resolute. “Tell them everything.”
Realizing this meant all hope was lost, Prompto whimpered in defeat. But he knew in his heart it was the right thing to do. Whatever had happened to Noctis last night, they owed it to his family to let the truth come out.
“Oi! That a hansom comin’ up? Who’s that? My—Jesus, Mary, and Joseph—Master Caelum!”
As soon as the words reached their ears, Prompto and Ignis scrambled over chairs, across the hallway, and out the servant’s door. They got outside just in time to see Noctis stumbling awkwardly across the grounds, a hansom merrily rolling away (job done).
“Noct!” Ignis cried, forgetting himself.
They rushed to meet him. By God, it was a miracle! Here was Noctis Caelum himself, his black hair a mess, wearing clothes that were clearly not his own (and most certainly not the clothes he had left in, which were nowhere in sigh). Barely able to stand on his feet, dark circles under his eyes. In need of a good rest.
But alive! And unharmed, from the looks of it. Especially from the placid, matter-of-fact smile on his face. The same one Noctis wore when he had proven himself in some way.
“Hey, guys,” Noctis half-saluted them wearily. Arrogant, but miles away from his usual fare. “What’s up?”
“Noct, holy shit, buddy…” Prompto was in tears. He wrapped Noctis in a sloppy hug, apologizing over and over.
Ignis was giddy with relief. However! His job was not done. Noctis was standing outside in nothing but a threadbare shit and pants—a scandal in and of itself! He might as well be standing there naked, for god’s sake.
Yanking Prompto’s ill-fitting frock coat from Prompto’s own shoulders, Ignis covered Noctis’s back with the coat and quickly escorted him inside. Needless to say, the servants they passed on the way were appalled.
“Shall I fetch a doctor, Mr. Scientia?” a maid asked.
“No, no, he’s alright.” Ignis deftly took Noctis’s temperature. Of course he noticed that Noctis winced when he forced the young master into a seat. It caught his eye, but Ignis filed it away for later.
“You there, boy!” He got the attention of a bootboy and gave some orders. “Go to Ravenscourt Park as fast as your feet will carry you. Fetch Mr. Ulric and Mr. Amicitia. Tell them he’s here and everything’s fine. Exactly that phrase. Understood?”
Shrinking under the intense gaze of the valet, the boy nodded with as much determination as he could. “Y-yes sir, Mr. Scientia!”
“There’s a penny and a sweet bun in it for you if you move quickly. Alright?”
“Yes sir!”
As the boy scurried away, Prompto gave Noctis another hug. “Oh man, I am so freaking happy to see you…” He noted that Noctis smelled…different. Like soap, but not the soap he usually used. “…Did you take a bath?”
“Umm, yeah I did.” Noctis rested his head down on the servant’s kitchen table. It was hardly the first time. The cook shoved some kippers and coffee in front of the young lord’s face.
“O…k…?” Prompto glanced back at Ignis.
The valet forced the mug of coffee into Noctis’s hand. Something to bring his deflated master back to life. His stoic gaze was laced with concern. “Noct, where were you?”
“I was…” Noctis raised his head long enough to take a sip. It took him a moment to remember exactly where he had been, geographically speaking. “…in Kingston Upon Thames, I think.”
“Kingston Upon Thames?!” Ignis rose to his feet at the name, miles upon miles away from anywhere they had tried to look. “What on earth were you doing there?”
Now that Noctis had gotten a good rest in the hansom, as well as some fresh coffee in his system, he was feeling a little more awake. Unfortunately, with that, came the acknowledgement of myriad bruises and aching muscles all over his body. His hips hurt from bending. His thighs, from spreading. There was a tingly place on his chest where Ardyn had sucked on his skin particularly hard…
So. What to tell Ignis and Prompto. This one might take a while.
While he thought of something, Noctis shrugged and said, “I met this guy in the park. We were…talking.”
Storm clouds gathered on Ignis’s face. “…I see.”
Truth be told, Ignis had already put the rest of the pieces together. It wasn’t a difficult picture, after all. He had known Noctis for his entire life. This realization was not a surprise so much as it was…a harsh slap of reality. From the moment Noctis came to him asking to wear a dress, Ignis had imagined his charge might start…experimenting with a broad range of tastes. (Even before Noctis asked, really. Long before.) He’d just thought they had more than a day to prepare for it!
Still, he needed details. “This ‘guy.’ Who was he?”
Noctis took a bite of the kippers. “Something…Izunia, I think?” Of course he knew the name perfectly well. But the family name was all that mattered.
No reason to act like he and Ardyn were suddenly ‘close’ or something. They weren’t. It was a limit of one night, wasn’t it? That’s what Ardyn said.
“Izunia?” Ignis frowned and adjusted his glasses. “I’ve never heard of that name. Where in Kingston Upon Thames did he take you?”
Noctis scratched his head as he tried to remember the address. But he didn’t know. Not only that, he didn’t even know the street name, nor the general area at all! He just knew that Ardyn had said the words ‘Kingston Upon Thames’ when he referred to his house.
And wait. Wasn’t there something else? Didn’t the house have a name? Noctis thought hard and tried to remember, but for some reason all he could think of was how unreasonably attractive Ardyn had looked opening the gate to his grounds.
“…Not sure,” Noctis admitted. He went back to his breakfast. “But, it was fine. I mean, I’m fine. It was a fun night.”
Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his sore eyes.
“Fun…? “Prompto looked completely lost. “Dude, what happened? You went with this guy, where to his house?”
“Yup.”
The look on Prompto’s face made Noctis suddenly want to brag about his experience. Really, why hide the truth? These guys were his closest friends in the world, for one. Also, Noctis knew he had just done something extremely dangerous and lived to tell the tale. Getting boned at a stranger’s house after a day spent traipsing around as a woman was…well, it was something, anyway. A good story at least! It had to be, right?
“And then what?!” Prompto’s eyes bulged, his hands waving animatedly. “You were gone the whole night, man! What did you do at his place?”
Huffing a kind of laugh, Noctis took another sip of coffee. He eyed Prompto over the rim of his mug. “…Can’t figure that out, Prom?”
Slowly, very slowly, Prompto came to the right conclusion. His hands dropped, face going slack, partially in disbelief and partially because he could barely stand the idea of Noctis actually enjoying himself—doing that with a man in a dress while they were going crazy looking for him—
Prompto shook his head, immediately blocking out any further thoughts. He could accept the truth, but he didn’t need to think about it too hard.
“Enough.” Ignis had caught the sideways glances from the rest of the kitchen staff, even if Noctis hadn’t. He wasn’t worried—they knew better than to say anything about the master’s affairs, no matter how shameful and scandalous—but there was no need to reveal any more here. “Finish your breakfast, so you can get changed into some proper clothing.”
Noctis yawned and stretched. Hell, even his joints ached. Not to mention his balls. He had completely wrung himself dry with Ardyn. It was a weird feeling. Too weird, almost. There was a deep…space in the back of him, too. Something that had not been there before.
“Actually, I’m going back to bed,” the young master announced, rising gingerly to his feet. “Need a couple more hours.”
Ignis rose as well. “….as you wish, sir. I’ll inform his lordship that you’ll be taking the morning to yourself.”
“Thanks. Night, guys. Oh, and thanks for the help and…everything.” Noctis began shuffling towards the stairs in the direction of his rooms. Then he remembered something and turned around towards Prompto. “Hey Prom, stick around, yeah? I want to hear how your night went too.”
Slightly intrigued, Ignis spared a glance in the blond’s direction. A flush fo color rose to Prompto’s cheeks.
“My night?” Prompto said under his breath when Noctis gone.
He wasn’t angry—he was far too relieved and way too exhausted to be angry. Instead, the question itself was almost hilarious. Prompto had been through hell last night! After, of course, a rather not-hellish experience at Cindy’s house. In that, it had been one of the best nights of his life. And there was a chance of a repeat, because Cindy was holding onto his top hat for him. She liked it. A lot, apparently.
Prompto broke into a giddy laugh. He slumped in his chair and tried to figure out what exactly had just happened in the span of only a night.
“You’d best take your breakfast down here, Mr. Argentum,” Ignis said. All business now, as was proper for a man of his station. “Rather than upstairs with His Lordship.”
“…Right.” No way Prompto was ready to face Regis right now. Not after everything that had happened. And everything Prompto was rapidly willing himself to forget about Noctis (Regis’s son, jeez…).
On cue, the cooks laid out a plate of sausage and eggs for Prompto. Quietly, surreptitiously. Just there when Prompto was ready to eat it.
After a while, Gladiolus and Nyx came barging in though the servants’ entrance. “Where is he?” bellowed Gladiolus. “I’m gonna kill him! That little…piece of…”
“Gladio!” Ignis called from the kitchen, trying to stop his friend from uttering any more words of treason.
Nyx was already sauntering in, asking for his own breakfast—which the nearby maids were happy to provide (Nyx the driver was something of a downstairs favorite). The cook—a dowdy woman in taffeta—made some joke about how Nyx always arrived at the right time. Something about a hero’s entrance every time he walked into a room. The staff chuckled at it.
Prompto did too, but only because he realized something he had forgotten entirely about last night.
“Oh yeah,” he said with a giggle, looking at Ignis with a dopey grin. “I just remembered.”
“What’s that?” Ignis asked, one hand on his hip.
Prompto plopped his head back down on the table, rattling Nyx’s bowl of oats and honey. “Yesterday was my birthday.”
“Oh, hey.” Munching on his breakfast, Nyx regarded Prompto with a sly grin. His most common expression. “Happy birthday, kiddo.”
“…Thanks.”