Pas de Trois (Part Four): gift for roga

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The next morning, Brendon got up late, so Spencer and Ryan were already gone. It was an all too common occurrence.

Brendon chose to eat his breakfast in the kitchen. Cook sighed loudly, but she put his eggs right in front of him. The kitchen reminded Brendon of his mother's--warm and cozy.

"I want you to help me check the inventories," Brendon said, careful not to spit bits of food all over his plate. "Please have one of the Alexes bring down the inventories from the library."

A few minutes later the books were spread out over the table in the study. Brendon poured over them, studying them closely.

"Why are some of these crossed out?"

Cook looked over his shoulder. "They were moved to another house," she said. "Master George's late wives took great pleasure in redecorating every once in a while."

Brendon hummed. "I think I would like to take that up again."

"If you wish so, sir," Cook said.

The inventories kept Brendon busy until supper. He was so engrossed in his work that he hardly noticed time passing, only to be reminded that he hadn't eaten in hours by his grumbling stomach.

"Aren't Ryan and Spencer home?" Brendon asked Johnson.

"The masters haven't returned yet," Johnson said.

Brendon ate alone and then waited in the study. The inventories couldn't keep him interested, though, as he glanced at the large grandfather clock in the corner. But the hours ticked away without any sign of either Ryan or Spencer.

At ten o'clock, Brendon had enough and went to bed. Of course, shortly after he'd retired, before he'd even fallen asleep, he could hear voices on the hallway--Ryan's and Spencer's.

Brendon sat up, listening. A door was opened and the voices disappeared. Brendon got up and cracked his door. Ryan was walking away from Spencer's door and went into his own room.

So they were home at least. Brendon closed his door and leaned against it. He was a bit annoyed that neither of them had even thought it necessary to check up on Brendon. He'd thought at least Spencer would have knocked, even if just to tell Brendon that they were home now. It was, Brendon thought, as if they thought he wouldn't worry about them and wonder where they were.

He was also slightly disappointed that he hadn't been able to spend any time with his husbands--he'd like to know how Ryan would react to him after the kiss--well, peck. And Brendon missed talking to Spencer, who'd always listen to him.

Brendon stood there for a few minutes before finally deciding to go and see Spencer. He'd wanted to tell him about the kiss and ask whether Ryan had mentioned it. He was determined not to stomp in and ask where they'd been, why they were so late and what they'd been doing.

When Brendon opened his door, the hallway was quiet. Ryan's door was closed as well as Spencer's. Brendon stepped out of his room, only wearing his thin night clothes. The cold was already creeping into his bones, but maybe Spencer would hug him and let him share his warmth.

It was a happy thought that made Brendon walk the short distance to Spencer's room. He heard voices inside and then something like a crash, so he didn't even knock, just pushed the door open.

Spencer was lying on his back on the bed, laughing, and Ryan ... Ryan was lying on top of him, grinning, and then he kissed Spencer. Brendon's hands started shaking--from the cold, he said to himself. Just from the cold.

"I missed you," Ryan said.

Spencer put his arms around Ryan. "I've been here all the time."

"Yeah, but you've been busy."

"Jealousy doesn't suit you," Spencer said.

"How about we don't talk about Brendon right now," Ryan said. "I got a few ideas ..."

Brendon left. He put one foot in front of the other mechanically until he was back in his bed. The sheets only had a faint trace of warmth left.

Ryan didn't want Brendon. He was even ... Brendon curled up and pushed his face into the pillow. They had looked good together, they fit together well. It hurt, to know that they were together now, that Ryan explicitly didn't want to think about Brendon in that context. It felt like being punched, doubled over with phantom pain, without any discernible injury.

It took him a long time to fall asleep. The morning dawned brightly, the sun shining brightly. Brendon glared at it from his window. The weather, he thought, should at least fit his mood.

He didn't expect anyone to still be in the house--he'd gotten up late on purpose. But Ryan was still sat at the breakfast table when Brendon entered the dining room.

"Good morning," Brendon said cautiously.

Ryan nodded. "Morning."

After a bit of contemplation, Brendon sat down opposite Ryan. He thought sitting down next to him, not facing him, would be a cowardly move. Brendon had been eavesdropping and seeing things not meant for his eyes, so he thought he should at least try and make an attempt at friendly conversation.

"Don't you have to go to the office today?" Brendon asked. It wasn't unusual for Ryan to leave later than Spencer, but Brendon hadn't ever seen him in the house this late.

"I have an invitation to lunch with a business partner," Ryan said. "We need to discuss our investments in the foreign sector." He waved his hands. "Nothing of interest to you, I'm sure."

Brendon bristled. "How would you know, exactly? If you'd take some time to explain why the foreign sector is so of interest to your business, I'd certainly be able to help you better."

"Help me?" Ryan looked up. "Help me with what?"

"Decisions," Brendon said. "Um, Spencer told me that it's often good to have an outsider's perspective and--"

"But you don't know anything about our business," Ryan said blithely. "What's the current wholesale price of almonds? How about silk?"

Brendon was startled when Ryan got up. "You don't know anything about it--I would just waste my time trying to explain it all to you."

He left Brendon sitting at the dining table, petrified and ashamed. He knew that Ryan was right--Brendon had never been a very good student. He was too distractible to pay proper attention, and his parents had given up early on forcing him to study business when he loathed it. Now he felt his ignorance keenly, but he was at a loss how he should fix it.

Brendon threw himself into his new project, having the house cleaned and redecorated, with all his fervour. It was only a temporary respite.

He was subdued all day--even Spencer coming home relatively early couldn't cheer him up much.

Spencer raised one eyebrow when Brendon tried to excuse himself immediately after dinner. "Oh, have you already grown weary of me?" he teased Brendon. "Or was it my fault? Have I been absent so much that you've moved on?"

"Don't be silly," Brendon said. "I missed you yesterday."

"Then I'm glad," Spencer said. He took Brendon's hand and rubbed his thumb over Brendon's palm.

It was easy to let himself lean against Spencer and accept his affections.

"I wanted to talk to you last night," Brendon said. "Well, actually, already the night before."

"Yes," Spencer said. "Ryan told me what happened."

"He did?" Brendon's heart beat faster. He cursed his treacherous emotions--although he'd spent the majority of the day moping, just the prospect of fixing his relationship to Ryan lifted his spirits.

"Yes. He was surprised."

"Pleasantly, I hope," Brendon said glumly. "I wouldn't want to put him out."

Spencer smiled. "It confused him," he said. "Ryan's default situation is to ignore confusing situations." He leaned in closely and whispered into Brendon's ear, "Don't give up just yet."

That night Brendon lay in his own bed, suddenly wide awake, and stared at the ceiling. Unbidden, Ryan's words ran through his mind again. You don't know anything about it. You don't know anything. I'd just waste my time.

It made him sad, but then he remembered Spencer's words--Don't give up yet.

Brendon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No, he didn't know much about business. When he had been younger, he hadn't seen any use in learning it, he'd rather spent his time playing the piano and learning intricate melodies. But now that he had proper incentive, Brendon was convinced that he could learn what he need to know. He just needed someone to teach him, find some books to learn from and--

Brendon sat up in bed. "Their schoolbooks," he said out loud. "I know where their schoolbooks are."

His heart jumped in his chest and he felt a flicker of home. He had access to their schoolbooks and could study those. It was a brilliant plan, Brendon thought. After all, Spencer and Ryan had read those books and now they knew enough to effectively run Ryan's father's business. Why shouldn't Brendon be able to learn the same things as they had done?

Brendon lay back down, smiling. He fell asleep imagining himself learning all those things, what all the maths meant, and both Ryan and Spencer were smiling at him.

~~~***~~~

Brendon was reading Spencer's notebooks in secret--he smuggled one after another into his room and poured over them by candle light. He tried to read Ryan's notes, too, but he soon realised that, unless it was about literature, Ryan's notes were copies from Spencer's.

It wasn't very easy material. Brendon hadn't ever been very interested in mathematics, and putting it into the context of book-keeping helped very little. It took him more time than he'd expected to go through each chapter.

But he found very motivating that he could already see first results: whenever Spencer and Ryan talked about the business at the dinner table, Brendon was at least able to put it into the context of good or bad.

It also made him frustrated whenever he was at a complete loss. It resulted in Brendon going to his room early often under the pretence of being tired, but in fact, so he could read another chapter of Spencer's math books.

Brendon felt still too insecure in his new knowledge to join in business conversations. That was also the reason why he was reluctant to ask Spencer for help--Brendon felt his questions were stupid and that he should be able to understand it by himself, so he worked harder and harder, reread the same passage until he was absolutely sure he'd taken up all information contained.

Brendon sighed and closed the notebook he'd been reading. It was obvious that he couldn't get any more work done tonight. His eyes hurt and his neck was cramped from sitting at his desk for too long. He wished he was back in the warm, comfy sitting room--his own room tended to be rather cold, no matter how often Brendon asked Virginia to look after the oven.

A knock on his door startled Brendon. He quickly pushed the notebook under a heap of other books. "Please come in."

Spencer stepped in. "I'm sorry to bother you this late," he said. "But I wanted to check on you."

"Check on me?" Brendon got up from his desk. His back hurt and he automatically stretched until it cracked. "Why?"

Spencer tilted his head and eyed Brendon. "We haven't seen much of you lately," he said. "I wanted to make sure you were feeling all right."

Brendon felt a bit ashamed. He'd grown to like his conversations with Spencer, the way Spencer would casually touch him, smile at him, and he missed being with Spencer a lot. That Spencer had thought to visit Brendon made something warm expand inside Brendon's chest. "I am, thank you," he said softly. "I'm just--reading a lot."

"So I see," Spencer said. He stepped closer to Brendon and looked at the books. Brendon tried to step in front of him, but Spencer calmly put his hands on Brendon's hips, pushing him away gently. He didn't take his hands off Brendon, though.

"It's nothing--they're just books," Brendon tried.

Spencer snorted, but then he grew quite still. "You can read those downstairs, too," he said quietly. "We would enjoy it."

"I didn't--I don't want to bother you," Brendon said. He ducked his head, unable to look at Spencer. "I just want to learn," he said, hating the plaintive tone in his voice.

"Oh, Brendon," Spencer said. He put his finger on Brendon's lips, effectively silencing him. "I understand." He smiled. "But I hope you know you don't have to do it alone."

"But I should," Brendon said.

"Why?" Spencer shook his head. "Why did you think you had to keep this a secret?" He pointed to the books. "I am very pleased by your interest--and your initiative," he said. "And I would gladly support you, if you trust me enough to let me."

"I do," Brendon whispered. "And I have so many questions, I hardly know where to start. But," he swallowed heavily. "Ryan..."

"Ryan isn't here most evenings, anyway," Spencer said. He leaned in close. "It can still be a surprise for him, if you'd prefer it that way."

Brendon shook his head. "But he will think me--he's said things--"

"Oh, believe me," Spencer said. "If Ryan continues to make such comments, I will take the utmost pleasure in reminding him how he could speak fluent Latin, but could hardly tell rye and barley apart."

Brendon laughed. "Well then nothing's keeping me here." He leaned against Spencer, enjoying their closeness. "Thank you," he whispered.

Spencer's smile was glorious. He leaned forward and Brendon closed his eyes, waiting with bated breath. Spencer's lips were soft and slightly wet. It only lasted an instant, just a press quick of their lips against each other, but it was enough to make Brendon feel weak in the knees. He'd imagined this so many times and yet reality was much better than any of his fantasies.

"Good night," Spencer said as he retreated. "I can trust you to come down tomorrow night?"

"'Night," Brendon said. "Yes, I will."

Spencer left and Brendon collapsed on his bed. "Oh dear god in heaven," he said and pressed his smile into the pillow.

~~~***~~~

The next morning, Brendon found his father-in-law at the breakfast table, to his surprise. Ryan's father had moved out of the house shortly before their wedding. He now lived in a smaller one closer to their offices, although Brendon had learned from the servants that it was also much closer to his favourite club. This had led to a lot of whispering between the servants and Cook making a broth. "Just in advance," she'd said. Brendon hadn't understood what she'd meant that day.

Now he did have some inkling what it was about. Ryan's father looked sallow and unwell, although his posture was still as straight as ever. He reminded Brendon of Mr Swanson, after his son had died.

"Good morning, sons," George Ross greeted them. "I have learned that one of my business contacts in the South has been able to procure some silk for us."

"That's good news," Spencer said. "We will be able to make a nice profit on selling it."

Brendon had learned from Spencer that silk had been short in supply lately, making the prices skyrocket. They'd been trying to find some for a good price, but hadn't managed so yet.

"Ryan will have to accompany me to the harbour," Ryan's father said and Ryan's face fell.

"But, Father, it's a two day trip to the harbour," Ryan said.

"That will give us just enough time to arrive before the ship," his father replied.

"You will be gone for four days?" Brendon asked. It felt strange--it was the first time they wouldn't be all together since their wedding. Although Ryan often went to eat outside, Brendon usually saw him at least during breakfast.

"The trip will take at least a full week," Spencer said. "Handling the shipment and procuring the means of transporting it to the city will take at least three days, give or take."

"Also he will have to meet my business contacts in the harbour city," Ryan's father said. "He's been lazy about nurturing the contact to anyone not in the city."

Ryan tensed up, his shoulders drawn in tightly. He looked uncomfortable enough that Brendon felt forced to act.

"Oh," Brendon said and he smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry that Ryan stayed in the city. It's my fault. He stayed for my sake--I asked him to because I didn't feel very comfortable navigating the city alone yet. And, well." Brendon ducked his head. He thought about his fantasies--how it would be to actually be with his husbands, and he could feel himself blush.

In truth, Ryan hadn't been out with Brendon alone once. Spencer had taken Brendon to the barber and other places. With Ryan, they'd visited Spencer's parents for tea. Ryan hadn't shown any interest in being with Brendon, although Spencer was becoming more and more affectionate, to the point where Brendon had spent an extraordinary amount of time touching himself to relieve himself.

His lie had the desired effect, though. Ryan's father laughed loudly. "I do hope that you're able to let go of your husbands for a few days," he said. "I hadn't been aware you'd become so fond of both of them."

Brendon looked at his plate, pretending like George's words didn't cut through his flesh. He felt so obvious and hoped that George couldn't tell Brendon had lied.

"You haven't visited us in a while," Ryan said.

"True." His father drank his tea. "Now, son, we must leave soon. I expect you to be ready in one hour."

As soon as Ryan's father had left, Brendon spoke up. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't--I just thought it would help, if ..."

"No, it was--nice," Ryan said. "Thank you."

Brendon smiled. He couldn't think of any verbal response but you're welcome which seemed woefully inadequate for what appeared to be a break-through in their relationship. Or at least Brendon hoped that Ryan would look upon him a bit more favourably now. "Shall I call Johnson?"

Ryan sighed. "No, I will call him on my way upstairs."

Brendon stared at his toast, not hungry anymore. After Ryan had left, Spencer reached for Brendon's hand. "Don't look so sad," he said. "It's only for a few days, and it's been a long time coming."

"I had forgotten that Ryan would have to travel," Brendon said. He felt like a fool--with as many trading companies as Ryan's father own, travel seemed to be a given. But it had completely escaped from Brendon's mind.

Spencer laughed. "It won't be often," he said. "His father is very adamant at the moment that Ryan has to meet all his business partners face to face."

Brendon nodded. He dreaded the moment Ryan was going to leave. Should he wait in the foyer, ready to say goodbye? Should he risk being brushed off by Ryan? But Spencer made his decision for him.

When they heard people coming down the stairs, Spencer took Brendon's hand and pulled him along. He smiled at Brendon reassuringly and interlinked their fingers. It gave Brendon enough confidence to stand tall when they reached the foyer.

Ryan was dressed in a dark brown frock Brendon hadn't ever seen before. It made him look distinguished, and Brendon's heart fluttered.

"Goodbye," Ryan said.

"Please come back soon," Brendon said. He wanted to say, Please miss me, but bit it back.

"I will."

Spencer sighed. "It'll be fine," he said. "Brendon and I will take care of the house."

"I didn't doubt that." Ryan hugged Spencer and kissed him.

Brendon looked away. He shifted from one foot to the other, as he didn't know whether Ryan would give him the same goodbye. Spencer's words rang in his mind again: Don't give up on him. Brendon startled when someone touched his hand. When he looked up, he saw a quick smile move over Ryan's face.

"Please take care of Spencer," Ryan said, as he leaned in to kiss Brendon, too.

When they broke apart, Brendon blinked. "Of course," he whispered. Spencer, Brendon knew, did not have any problem with letting Brendon close.

"I know," Ryan said softly.

"You are one very confusing man," Brendon told him, causing Ryan to smile again.

"So I've been told."

Brendon wanted to ask why he was being so difficult then, but in that moment the carriage driver knocked on the door.

"We're ready," Ryan told Johnson.

And then Ryan was gone.

~~~***~~~

Although Brendon was used to spending the day on its own, he felt more lonely now that he knew that he wouldn't see Ryan at least for a week. This morning, something in their relationship had shifted, and Brendon longed to further that change. Coming to Ryan's rescue in front of his father had been an instinctive reaction--despite Ryan's acerbic behaviour, Brendon was quite fond of him. He enjoyed Ryan's wit--when Ryan allowed him to see it.

Their goodbye had been so very sweet that it made Brendon's heart flutter. The idea that Ryan might actually let Brendon closer and not push him away gave Brendon new energy and motivation--only Ryan was gone now.

The fact that he had to wait for at least one week until he could talk to Ryan again was almost unbearable. Fortunately Brendon wasn't the only one feeling at odds. "You're home early," he greeted Spencer, who'd arrived a good hour earlier than was his wont.

Spencer smiled. "Without Ryan trying to distract me and talk me into buying specially made paper for our business letters--with a design by himself, of course--I found that I could work much faster."

Brendon laughed. Ryan had a strange fascination with paper that Brendon couldn't understand. "You just don't want to admit that you missed me," he teased Spencer.

"I did," Spencer said, his voice serious. "I always do."

Brendon smiled at him shyly. "Then I'm glad," he said.

They sat down to supper which seemed more intimate now that it was just the two of them. The table was too big for them, though, Brendon thought.

"He'll be back soon," Spencer said.

"I'm not--" Brendon sighed. "Don't mind me," he said. "I don't know why I'm so out of sorts--he doesn't eat with us so often and yet--"

"It's a startling occurrence when Ryan's suddenly nice for a change," Spencer said and winked at Brendon. "You'll get used to it."

Brendon smiled.

"I think I didn't thank you for this morning," Spencer said. "You didn't have to say that in front of George."

"No, I had to," Brendon said. "It wasn't Ryan's fault, either."

Spencer reached over the table and took Brendon's hand. "It was still very courageous of you," he said.

Brendon laughed. "You talk like you expected George to tear me to pieces," he said.

Spencer ducked his head, but when he looked up, his smile was perfect. "Thank you nevertheless," he said. "And now tell me about this grand project of yours--have you found any more books?"

Brendon grinned. He had the servants start cleaning the rooms he'd picked out a few days ago and they'd found several items not mentioned in the inventory, among them a few books. Ryan had been delighted when Brendon had told them that the books had been put in the library, and he'd disappeared instantly. It had given Brendon a surge of pride, but Ryan hadn't been in the sitting room any evening since.

"No," Brendon said. "But if we do, I'll hide the books here--this way we'll at least see Ryan read them."

Spencer laughed. "That is true."

Brendon grinned back. Being with Spencer was easy. A tiny part of Brendon was happy that Ryan was away and he didn't have to share Spencer with Ryan. It was an uncharitable thought, but Spencer was brushing Brendon's hair back and Brendon longed for more touches.

"It's late," Spencer said. "I'm afraid I must go to bed soon."

"But it's barely half past eight," Brendon said.

"I know, but we are expecting an early shipment. I must get up very early." Spencer got up and leaned over to press a dry, quick kiss on Brendon's lips. "Please don't wait up for me tomorrow," he said. "Today there wasn't much work to do, but with both Ryan and his father gone, I'll be busy in the office."

"I will see to it that supper is prepared in time," Brendon said. He was a bit disappointed, but he'd use the chance to do some more studying.

"But promise me not to wait for me," Spencer said. "I couldn't stand the thought of you sitting there and going hungry while you could eat, just because I'm too caught up in work."

"I wouldn't mind," Brendon said.

Spencer laughed. "No," he said and pressed another kiss against Brendon's temple. "I appreciate your offer, but please eat without me, when I'm not home early."

"All right," Brendon said.

Spencer smiled again and he kissed Brendon once more, longer, on the lips. It made Brendon want to reach up and pull him down for another kiss and another and another, until they were out of breath. Brendon wanted Spencer so much.

But Spencer pulled away and stood a few feet away. "Good night, Brendon."

"Spencer," Brendon whispered.

Spencer grimaced. "I really do need to have an early night," he said, sounding frustrated. "And I don't want to start anything I can't finish tonight."

"It wouldn't take long," Brendon said. "Please."

"But that wouldn't be much fun," Spencer said. He grinned. "I would prefer to take a really long time."

Brendon flushed, his body reacting to Spencer's words immediately, and he reached out for Spencer

But Spencer sighed. "Tomorrow," he said. He leaned in close once more. "But you can think of me tonight--when you take care of yourself."

"Spencer," Brendon whimpered, but Spencer was already gone. Brendon cursed him.

He waited a few minutes before following Spencer upstairs, convincing his legs to carry him. His room was blessedly cold and Brendon immediately stepped out of his clothes, all thoughts of studying forgotten. He hadn't lied to Spencer--he really was very close already, just from kissing and the promise of more.

When he lay down, he decided to make it last, though. He leisurely stroked himself, pressing down on the base to make himself less desperate.

Brendon remembered Spencer touching himself and he couldn't withstand the temptation of copying him. Maybe Spencer was doing the exact same thing right now. An early night didn't mean that he couldn't relieve himself. His slacks had been as tented as Brendon's--Spencer would need some relief.

Brendon shuddered, his entire body shaking as he wet his finger. When he rubbed over his nipple, he couldn't stifle a gasp, but then he didn't have to--no one would hear him.

"Spencer," Brendon breathed, imagining that Spencer was leaning over him. It was Spencer's hand trailing down Brendon's belly to curl around Brendon's cock, stroking him just this side of rough, his fingers rubbing and twisting and pinching Brendon's nipple.

Brendon whimpered, throwing his head from side to side. His toes were curling up and it took all his resolve not to come right now. But then he brushed his thumb over the head of his cock on his down stroke and no amount of holding on kept him from coming. He gasped with every spurt of thick white liquid that hit his skin.

His mind was a blissful blank and his muscles were heavy, his arms and legs like lead, deeply relaxed. But it only held on for a few moments--it would have been better with Spencer, Brendon thought, and he wished that Spencer had been here. He sighed loudly before he started to clean himself and pulled on his night clothes. He collapsed into bed and was asleep in seconds.

The next morning, Spencer was gone before Brendon even got up. Brendon was full of anticipation of the evening--tomorrow Spencer had said and Brendon intended to keep him to his promise. For the time being, the servants had started on the ballroom and they needed his supervision.

"Please be careful with the chandelier," Brendon told Johnson, eyeing the huge contraption made of crystal cautiously. "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"We will treat it with utmost care, Mr Brendon," Johnson said.

Brendon squinted at him. There had definitely been an amused note in Johnson's voice. "And please clean the floor."

"Very well, Mr Brendon," Johnson said.

Anna and Virginia were just down shaking out the curtains, and they were standing in the corner giggling. Brendon crept closer, curious what was so funny.

"I wonder whether anyone will be dancing here," Anna said and sighed. "This room is so beautiful."

Brendon grinned. "Of course there'll be dancing," he said and reached for Anna's hand. She squeaked as he pulled her close and led her across the room in wide circles.

"Mr Brendon," she said under laughter, "this is improper."

Brendon titled his head. "I do not care about that," he said and he deposited Anna next to Virginia again. The girls both giggled again. "And now back to your cleaning." He winked at them.

Dancing left Brendon in a good mood. He was starting to see a difference in the house--it seemed more open now that the rooms were consistently aired and doors were opened. The carpets needed cleaning much more often now, which Brendon felt sorry about, but the carpets also looked much better now.

Cleaning the ballroom filled everyone in the house with a sense of anticipation. Brendon realised that now they were now expecting a ball to follow up on all their hard work. Brendon hoped he could fulfil their hopes. His parents had mentioned that the Rosses might want to give a ball to introduce Brendon into society. Ryan had seemed enthusiastic about the idea, so Brendon hoped that meant that they were planning a ball.

When supper time came, Spencer still wasn't home, so Brendon went ahead and had supper by himself. It was unsatisfying, though. Brendon was itching to tell Spencer about the ballroom and how the chandelier sparkled and how his shoes were squeaking on the floor. And he longed for more kisses, to have Spencer in his arms.

Brendon decided to read in the sitting room, as he waited for Spencer. He managed to read another two chapters and write down questions, when he heard a carriage arrive.

"Good evening, Brendon." Spencer stood in the doorframe holding his top hat. He was a bit pale, but smiling.

"I'll have Anna bring you some food," Brendon said. "Just a moment."

"Don't hurry on my account," Spencer said. "Another few minutes won't matter at this point."

Brendon tsked. "You need proper sustenance, if you're to keep up working so ridiculously much," he said. "I'll be just a moment."

Despite his assurances that he could wait, Spencer ate with fervour. "I'm afraid I had to skip lunch."

Brendon glared at him. "But you have to eat," he said. "I will have Cook prepare some sandwiches for you tomorrow."

"How do you know I won't forget them to eat them, even if they're lying on my desk?"

Brendon was about to launch into a tirade about how Spencer had to learn how to take care of himself properly, when he saw the twinkle in Spencer's eyes and his smile. "You're teasing me. That isn't nice."

Spencer laughed. "But you were so serious." He put down his fork and reached for Brendon's hand. "I appreciate you being concerned. And I would love some sandwiches."

"Just don't give all of them to the clerks," Brendon said. "Oh, maybe Cook can prepare a few more?"

"She surely will," Spencer said. "But please tell me--did anything exciting happen today?"

"Today we started in the ballroom," Brendon said proudly.

"Ryan will be pleased to hear that," Spencer said. "He's been annoying his father with his constant questions about when we will have the ball he's been promised."

"I'm afraid we're not done yet."

Spencer nodded. "I didn't expect you to be," he said. "That room must have been unused for at least ten years. Ryan's mother had enjoyed balls a lot, but Margaret, George's second wife, had been a bit of a recluse."

"I see." Brendon kept telling Spencer more tales, while Spencer ate.

As they sat down on the sofa, Brendon felt he was going to shake apart from anticipation. But Spencer looked so tired that Brendon didn't want to pressure him. So he just sat down next to Spencer, put his hand Spencer's arm and leaned against him.

"Did the business do well today?"

Spencer sighed. "Yes and no," he said. "George keeps procuring more shipments for us, especially of rare wares, which is good, because we manage to sell them with some profit. But we are also running out of space in our warehouses."

Brendon frowned. "But I thought we owned so many it didn't matter?"

"It didn't until George decided to buy a huge stock of coals," Spencer said. "These haven't been selling well, and they take up a lot of space, while at the same time it's nearly impossible to store anything else in the same place."

He sighed again. "George wants to keep the coals until we can get a certain profit margin," he said, "which is nearly impossible at this time of year. In winter, the prices will rise sufficiently, but in the meantime, we're in a predicament."

"So we need more space," Brendon said. "Is that difficult to solve?"

Spencer shrugged. "Not terribly," he said. "But we haven't been able to agree on an approach yet."

"There are different ones?" He propped his chin up on Spencer's shoulder.

Spencer laughed. "Yes. See, our fund for buying new warehouses does not contain enough money to buy one in the size we'd like. Ryan doesn't care much about figures like net income and interest, so he's in favour of getting a loan from the bank, just to resolve this quickly."

"But you don't agree with this?"

"No," Spencer said. "I think if we wait just one year more, we'll have raised the fund enough to buy the warehouse interest-free. But it would mean waiting and having to shuffle shipments awkwardly between one place and another."

"Couldn't you rent a warehouse?" Brendon asked. "I'm sorry, if it's a stupid question, but I thought--"

"No, no, it's an excellent question," Spencer said and he sat up straight. "I'm afraid I've been so occupied with keeping stock that I didn't even consider that possibility." He gave Brendon a brilliant smile. "So how have your studies been going?"

Brendon blushed. "Not as fast as I would like," he admitted.

"I think you're doing well," Spencer said softly. "Please tell me more."

"I--actually, I do have some questions," Brendon said. "I mean, you've had a long day and--we had other plans--"

Spencer started to laugh loudly. "You are more similar to Ryan than you realise," he said. "But go on, tell me your questions." He leaned in close. "If we start the other thing first, I'll never answer your questions."

For a moment Brendon couldn't understand why that was a bad thing, but then Spencer gently pushed at him.

"I'll get my questions," Brendon said.

Spencer was a good teacher. "I'm sorry that I couldn't understand it on my own," Brendon said, after Spencer had managed to clear up his confusion about net and gross prices with two sentences.

"Don't be," Spencer said. "It can be difficult to understand sometimes."

Brendon ducked his head. Spencer's praise made him feel self-conscious. "I wish I already knew more," he said. He still thought he should have figured out the difference on his own.

"It seems to be like you're learning fast," Spencer said.

Brendon smiled. "I'm progressing more slowly than I'd like."

Spencer laughed. "You're still faster than some of our apprentices," he said. "Oh! Would you like to accompany to the office next week?"

Brendon blinked. "I would love to," he said. "I don't think I'll be much help yet, though."

"Very well," Spencer said. "On Monday I'll have to check the inventory, which I would love your help with. It's not terribly difficult, most of it is just busywork."

Brendon's smile grew bigger. "It sounds like you're trying to ease me into the business slowly," he said. "I hardly think that it's your task to do the inventory."

Spencer leaned over and gently held Brendon's hand. "Would you mind?" he asked seriously.

"No, no, I would enjoy working with you," Brendon said. "I just don't want to be a burden and slow you down."

"Brendon, if you can take any work off my hands next week, that would make my life much easier," Spencer said. "Ryan is good at building contacts, but he doesn't have a mind for the everyday things." Spencer smiled. "The way you are taking care of the house proves that you do, however."

"It's not much," Brendon hurried to say. "It's just a bit of cleaning."

"Don't sell yourself short," Spencer said. "You are changing things, and that's good."

Brendon busied himself with his books to hide the way he was blushing. He felt Spencer was praising him too much.

"Brendon," Spencer said.

"Is it kissing time yet?"

Spencer chuckled. "Maybe," he said.

"Tease," Brendon accused him. But then he felt Spencer's lips on his own and time seemed to stop.

Spencer put his hand on Brendon's cheek, stroking his fingers over the sensitive skin of Brendon's neck, and Brendon shivered.

"All right?" Spencer asked.

"Don't stop," Brendon said. He felt like he was floating.

Their kisses were slowly progressing from chaste to something more. Brendon sighed when they broke for air. Spencer broke the atmosphere by yawning.

Brendon huffed, mock-affronted. "Am I that bad?"

"I'm sorry," Spencer said. "I'm really terribly sorry, it's just--" He yawned again.

"It's been a long day," Brendon said.

Spencer kissed him softly. "You won't mind? Waiting another day?"

"I've waited so long," Brendon said. "One more day won't kill me."

Spencer ran his thumb over Brendon's lips. Brendon had to shiver again. "Tomorrow then."

"I've heard you say that before."

Spencer laughed. "I'm not going to the office tomorrow," he said. "I promise to be well rested and up for all sorts of mischief."

"I'll see you in the morning then," Brendon said. "Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

"You will," Spencer said. "Good night."

"Good night," Brendon breathed against Spencer's lip. One last goodnight kiss, he thought. It turned into five before Spencer finally left.

~~~***~~~

"So," Spencer asked, "am I allowed to see what wonders you achieved in the ballroom?"

"Of course," Brendon said over his eggs. "Anna told me that they are done with all the tapestries; we can go and take a look."

Brendon was oddly nervous as he led Spencer through the hallways. "I still don't know what most of these rooms contain," he admitted. "When I found out about the ballroom, I decided to have it cleaned first."

Spencer laughed. "Brendon, I don't expect you to overhaul the entire mansion in a matter of days," he said.

"Just--don't expect too much," Brendon said. "We haven't decorated yet." He opened the side door to the ballroom--Johnson had said that it was the servants' entrance--and the room opened to a large set of wing doors on the other side.

Spencer stepped into the room quietly and turned once around himself. "This is amazing," he said.

Brendon looked around and tried to see the room with new eyes. He still clearly remembered how the room had looked last week. The cobwebs and the dust were gone, the tapestries' colours shone clearly and the crystal of the chandelier twinkled in the bright sunlight. Then he had to laugh. "I am in love with this room," he said. "I can't wait to see it filled with people, dancing and laughing."

"I can help with at least part of it," Spencer said suddenly, and he reached for Brendon and pulled him close.

"Spencer, what?" Brendon started laughing, when Spencer launched into the familiar steps of their wedding dance.

"See, there are people dancing and laughing now," Spencer said, laughing himself. "Now we just need a few more."

Their laughter drew the curiosity of some servants. Brendon felt self-conscious when Johnson entered, but they were the masters of the house and if they decided to dance in the middle of the day, that was just their business.

Spencer brought them to a stop in the middle of the floor. "This room is beautiful," he said.

"It was beautiful before," Brendon said. "I just awakened it from its deep sleep."

"That you did," Spencer said.

Brendon sighed. "All it's missing is a piano," he said. "My mother used to tell me stories from her youth and--there should be a piano." He remembered her tales and how he had often imagined himself as the pianist in these stories--able to observe the dance floor, providing the beautiful music that made other people rejoice. His fingers ached with the need to play.

"Oh, haven't you found the music room yet?"

Brendon blinked. "We have a music room?" He couldn't keep his hope out of his voice. His heart was beating in his throat, making it difficult to breathe.

Spencer laughed. "Follow me," he said. He took Brendon's hand and led him out of the room.

"The room hasn't been used in years," Spencer said, "but I don't think that George has gotten rid of any of the instruments."

"Why would he?" Brendon asked curiously. He couldn't imagine any reason why someone would dispose of something as great as an instrument.

"It was Maggie who loved music," Spencer said. "And her death was devastating to George, especially as she only died months after Ryan's mother."

"Oh," Brendon said.

"Here we are," Spencer said. "These used to be all Maggie's rooms, and it only made sense to have the music room here, since she was the only one who played regularly."

When Spencer opened the door, Brendon was prepared for a perhaps an upright. He hadn't expected the music room to contain a grand piano.

"This is beautiful," Brendon said. He directly went to the piano and opened the cover with shaking hands. The keys were dusty, and when Brendon pressed one, the tone was off-key. But it was a piano, big and majestic, and it was right there for Brendon to use. It felt like a dream--he couldn't believe that he was this lucky.

"We must have it tuned," Spencer said. He stepped up to stand directly behind Brendon. "I don't think anyone has used it in at least ten years."

Brendon's throat was dry, as he let his fingers slide over the keys. A piano, he thought. A piano just for him. "Ryan doesn't play?"

"No," Spencer said. "His mother insisted he take lessons, but after her and Maggie's death--George isn't interested in music."

"It's a shame," Brendon said. "It's a wonderful instrument."

Although it was completely out of tune, Brendon couldn't keep himself from playing a quick song.

"You are very good," Spencer said.

Brendon didn't realise he'd started shaking until Spencer wrapped his arms around him. "Brendon, what is going on?"

Brendon turned around inside Spencer's arm and hugged Spencer tightly. "Thank you," he said fervently.

"What are you thanking me for?"

"Showing me this room," Brendon said. "Being you."

Spencer smiled. "I take it you like it here."

Brendon laughed. He laughed until he sobbed, and he pressed his face against Spencer's shoulder. "I love music," he said quietly, broken by hiccups. "The piano--I--"

"Why didn't you say anything?" Spencer kisses his temple. "It's been here all along."

"I didn't know--" Brendon shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said. He couldn't tell Spencer about losing "his" piano yet. He didn't have any words to put his grief and loss into words, when it had been "only" an instrument in his parents' eyes. The fact that he now had access to a piano again--and that it didn't occur to him to ask for one, they surely could even afford to buy a new one, but Brendon hadn't even considered it, hadn't wanted to be hurt like that again. "It doesn't matter why I didn't tell you," he said.

Spencer opened his mouth, but Brendon put his finger on his lips and shook his head again. "Please," he said. "It's--it's all right now." He smiled, as easily and freely as he hadn't in months. "Thank you for showing me this room," he said. "I might never leave it again."

Spencer laughed. "But we would miss you a lot," he said. He leaned in and kissed Brendon softly, at first, just a gentle press of their lips. Brendon sighed.

"Everything all right?" Spencer whispered. His breath ghosted over Brendon's skin and Brendon shivered.

"I've waited for so long," Brendon said, his voice shaky. "Don't make me wait even longer."

Spencer smiled. "No. I have some time to make up for," he said. He licked over his lips, and this time his lips were moist and glided over Brendon's. Brendon whimpered when Spencer gently bit down on his lips. He could feel Spencer's grin against his face.

Brendon opened his mouth willingly when Spencer pushed his tongue against Brendon's lips. It made Brendon long for more, and he pulled Spencer in closer, grabbing Spencer's clothes tightly.

Kissing Spencer felt amazing. He was grateful that Spencer was holding him up.

Brendon didn't know how long they had been standing there at the piano, exchanging kisses, when a discreet cough made me pull apart.

Johnson was standing in the door. "It is lunchtime, masters," he said. "Cook asks when it should be served."

Spencer stood upright and he managed to nod. "Thank you, we'll be coming to the dining room at once."

"Very well, Mr Spencer."

Brendon was still breathless, and his lips were swollen. His knees were so weak, he could hardly keep himself upright. When he reached for hold, he put his hand on the piano keys--the jarring crescendo of untuned tones made them both jump.

"Oh god," Brendon said. His voice came out unsteady, and he wondered for a moment how Spencer could seem so calm. Brendon felt he was coming apart at the seams.

Spencer grinned. "Are you in the mood for food?"

Brendon shook his head. "No, you know what I want," he said.

"You can have it later," Spencer said. He kissed Brendon's temple. "But now we must eat lunch."

"I don't feel like I can eat right now," Brendon said. His stomach was in jumbles, and he was light-headed. Food was the least of his concerns.

Cook had prepared Brendon's favourite stew, though, and he felt it would be insulting if he didn't eat anything at all. It was difficult to concentrate, though, when Spencer was sitting right across of him. He was very distracting, with his hair falling into his face and broad shoulders. Brendon thought no one could hold him at fault for not paying too much attention to his food.

Additionally, Spencer wanted to make conversation. Brendon figured that Spencer wanted to drive him mad. His choice of topics certainly did.

"Do you want to study some more from your books this afternoon?" Spencer asked.

"I--What?" Brendon looked up, staring at Spencer incredulously . "Study? I thought we were going to, you know."

Spencer grinned. "It's only early afternoon," he said.

"I don't care," Brendon said.

Spencer laughed. Brendon would appreciate it more, if he didn't think that Spencer was partly laughing about it, rather than at him. "Don't be too impatient," he said. "My point from last night still stands--I want to take my time with you."

"We'd have all day," Brendon offered. "And all night."

"I--" Spencer started, but then Cook came in.

"Was the meal to your satisfaction, masters?"

"Yes," Spencer said. "It was delicious."

Brendon just nodded. "Delicious," he repeated. "Yes."

Cook gave them a look. "I assume you'll take your tea at the usual time?"

"We will," Spencer replied before Brendon could react. "Thank you."

"Spencer," Brendon said after Cook had left. "Tea?"

Spencer grinned. "To build anticipation," he said. "Also you love her scones."

"Scones aren't you," Brendon said.

"I'd sure hope not." Spencer got up. "I have to reply to a letter of a business contact--normally Ryan takes care of it, but this one is quite important and we cannot afford to let it linger."

"Oh," Brendon said softly. He had almost forgotten about Ryan, and shame and guilt immediately set in. He poked at the remainder of his food.

"Do you think we should?" he asked. "Without Ryan?"

Spencer sat down again. "Of course, we can wait for him," he said. "But--maybe this way it'll be easier for you."

"Do I need to remind you that I'm not entirely innocent?"

Spencer smiled. "I know," he said. "But I think tumbles in the hay with a farm boy are different from being with your husband. Or husbands, as it were."

"I wish to not give him any more reason to be mad at me," Brendon said softly. "Wouldn't he be--" Brendon found it impossible to say jealous.

Spencer sighed. "I should admit that Ryan and I have talked about the matter and--no, he won't be whatever you're afraid of. He won't mind."

"I see," Brendon said. "But not until tonight?"

Spencer shook his head and grinned. "Not until tonight."

Brendon had problems focusing that afternoon. The letters on the page blurred and Brendon ended up staring at the same page for long minutes. He envied Spencer who seemed to fare much better. Perhaps it was, Brendon mused, because Spencer had already been with Ryan before--he knew what to expect, whereas Brendon was too exhilarated that it was happening now to think about anything else.

Spencer was sitting at the other desk, writing his letters. Brendon peeked at him every now and then, under the pretence of checking his notes, but he should have known he wasn't going to fool Spencer.

Brendon startled when Spencer suddenly laughed. "You are the most obvious person," he said.

"I'm sorry," Brendon said. He didn't sound very apologetic, though.

Spencer stood up, still laughing. "I don't believe you," he said. "But it's a nice change--refreshingly different to what I'm used to."

Brendon leaned back in his chair. "What are you used to?" he asked.

"Ryan," Spencer said dryly. "But please don't try and copy him."

Brendon giggled nervously, as Spencer came closer and finally stood behind Brendon's chair, his hands on Brendon's shoulders. "What is he like?" he asked.

"You'll see soon enough," Spencer said. "Right now I don't want to talk about Ryan, though; I want to kiss you."

Brendon laughed. In his rush to get up, he shoved his chair into Spencer, almost knocking him over. "Sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Then it was Spencer's turn to laugh, and he pulled on Brendon's arm. "Don't say it so often," he said, "or one day I will have to believe you."

"Then keep me from talking," Brendon said. Spencer did.

Brendon pushed up against Spencer, pressing their mouths together hard, desperate for touch. Spencer's hand in his hair, on his back, was grounding him, and Brendon let Spencer take the lead. It was easy to lose himself in their kisses.

He could feel Spencer hard against his thigh and it was an exhilarating feeling.

It was stupid to stand in their sitting room, kissing, but Brendon was incapable of moving. He knew they should go to one of their rooms, but he couldn't keep his hands away from Spencer. "I don't want to let go of you," Brendon whispered.

"You don't have to," Spencer said against Brendon's skin. He was kissing Brendon's jawline and gently bit down on his earlobe.

Brendon gasped and pushed his face against Spencer's neck. "Please," he said. "Upstairs, a room, we should--"

Spencer pulled away and pressed a kiss on Brendon's nose tip. It seemed so innocent compared to the deep kisses they'd exchanged that Brendon giggled.

"Supper is served," Johnson announced.

Brendon sighed loudly and put his head on Spencer's shoulder. He felt there was a conspiracy at work here, with the goal to make Brendon expire from sheer frustration.

"See, this is why we usually do this at night," Spencer said dryly. "Nobody calls us for supper."

"A very reasonable thing," Brendon agreed. "We could skip the meal?"

Johnson cleared his throat.

"No, we're going to eat," Spencer said. He whispered into Brendon's ear, "Nourishment." Brendon shivered. It took a moment for him to remember how to move his legs before he could step into the dining room.

Supper was just as difficult to eat as lunch. "But we are going upstairs the second we finish, aren't we?" Brendon asked.

Spencer chuckled. "Yes, we are. I wouldn't want to make you wait any longer."

"Oh, finally he shows compassion," Brendon said.

Spencer just grinned at him in response.

Although Brendon was full of anticipation, when Spencer finally took his hand and led him upstairs, he walked on unsteady, shaking legs.

"We can just kiss," Spencer said once they were inside his room. "There's no need to do anything besides."

"But I want to," Brendon said quietly. "I'm just."

Spencer smiled and ran his hands through Brendon's hair. "Just relax," he said.

To Brendon's growing frustration, Spencer kept it just to kissing in the beginning. He was jittering and clung tightly to Spencer.

"Relax," Spencer whispered.

"I can't," Brendon whined.

Spencer laughed against Brendon's neck. "Come with me."

Spencer walked backwards, tugging on Brendon's hands. He sat down on his bed and pulled Brendon on his lap. Brendon took a startled breath.

"Breathe," Spencer said. He ran his hands up and down Brendon's back. The repetitive motion was comforting. Brendon wrapped his arms around Spencer and hid his face in Spencer's neck.

"I'm sorry," Brendon said. "I shouldn't be so nervous." He was afraid that Spencer had been right--this didn't feel anything like his afternoons with Tom. Tom had made heat pool in Brendon's belly, but he hadn't ever made Brendon feel so desperate and shaking with need.

Spencer kissed Brendon's temple again. He was switching between these gentle, sweet gestures and the hot, searing touches that made Brendon tremble.

"It's all right," Spencer said. "Let's take this slow."

Brendon sighed, then he squeaked when Spencer rolled them over and Brendon landed flat on his back. Spencer propped himself up on his elbows. "All right?"

Brendon nodded. He put his hands on Spencer's neck and pulled him down. They kissed until their lips were red and swollen.

"Let me," Spencer said, as he very slowly opened the top bottoms of Brendon's shirt.

Brendon's breathing became faster and he gasped when Spencer gently bit into the junction of his neck and shoulder. "Spencer!"

"Do you like that?" Spencer licked over the spot.

"Yes, yes," Brendon said. He reached up with shaking hands to work on Spencer's shirt, and it took him a few tries to open the first button. He cursed the small buttons. At least Tom's simple shirts hadn't ever given him this much trouble.

"Relax," Spencer said. He kissed Brendon again, slow and gentle. Brendon held on tightly until his heartbeat slowed down.

"I wish Ryan were here," Brendon said when they broke for air.

"Me too," Spencer said. "But soon." He was carefully opening Brendon's shirt. His hand was steady as he pulled on the buttons, and Brendon envied him for it.

Although it was just his shirt, Brendon felt exposed. He concentrated on getting rid of Spencer's shirt, but he needed both hands and had to press them regularly against Spencer's chest to get them steady.

Spencer tried to lean down and kiss Brendon's chest, but Brendon pushed him back up. "Let me first," he said and tugged on Spencer's shirt.

Spencer pushed himself up onto his side so that Brendon could easily reach the bottom buttons.

"Now we're even," Brendon said.

Spencer laughed. "Then allow me to kiss you now."

"Permission granted."

Spencer carefully kissed Brendon, before he moved downwards, littering kisses all over Brendon's skin. When his mouth closed around Brendon's nipple, Brendon gasped and buried his hands in Brendon's hair.

Spencer sucked on it hard, which sent Brendon whimpering and thrashing. "Spencer," he moaned. "Spencer, I--"

Spencer reached down and put his hand on Brendon's crotch. Just that little pressure was too much and Brendon felt--overwhelmed. He managed to gasp out another, "Spencer," before he started to shake all over and then his orgasm overran him. Brendon was a bit disappointed that he'd come so early, but it was difficult to be cross with himself when all he felt was a satisfied warmth.

Spencer chuckled. "I'm afraid I made you wait too long."

"Hmm," Brendon said.

"Just--succumb," Spencer said. "Go to sleep." It was easy to listen to him, to not fight any longer and let his body do whatever. Brendon felt like all his bones had melted and he couldn't keep his eyes open for longer than seconds.

When he blinked them open the next time, Spencer was leaning over him, drawing patterns on Brendon's skin. He smiled when he saw Brendon open his eyes. "Hi there,"

"Hi," Brendon croaked. He blinked and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Was I asleep for long?"

"A few minutes," Spencer said. "Acceptable, I think."

Brendon snorted. "You mean embarrassing."

Spencer laughed. "It was incredible to watch," he said.

"I'm sorry for falling asleep on you," Brendon said. "But now let me--" He reached for Spencer's pants, but realised they were already open--and Spencer wasn't hard anymore.

"Oh," Brendon said quietly.

Spencer leaned in for a kiss. "I said, it was incredible," he said. "The way you looked was--very enjoyable, I must say."

"But I wanted to," Brendon said and then he found himself pouting.

Spencer laughed and he brushed a kiss on Brendon's mouth. "We can do a repeat performance in a few minutes."

"I hope so, I want to do that again," Brendon said. He let his eyes fall closed to Spencer's laughter and his we will. But a nap, he thought, a nap would be good right now.

Part Five