Chapter Eleven
Thomas was not sure whether he was ready for this. But what more could he do? His life was not going to get any easier if he stayed back. His family would only have him if he were to be forced to marry Victoria or put in an institution of some description. He could not make it on his own in town either. He needed someone to depend on, someone to rely on, and that someone was Christopher.
But the thought terrified him. He was not sure he could trust Christopher that much. He was not sure he should. His family were people he had trusted and relied upon and they had done nothing but hurt him. Except for Delilah, they had betrayed him. Yet again, he had to trust someone. And Christopher was a better bet than anyone else.
He had been staying secretly in Christopher's mansion for the last week as Christopher made a number of preparations. At first Christopher had been there to keep him company, although he was rather busy and rarely had any time to spend comforting Thomas. And after the first five days he had disappeared, on a trip to Plymouth, to ensure they would have a ship which would carry them around France and down to Spain, where they could start a new life.
Christopher had said he had a finca there, a sort of small cottage on some land, where he used to stop during his travels for some quiet time. There was nobody but the staff for miles around, and they would be able to live together safe in the knowledge that nobody would try and separate them. It was a drastic measure, but Thomas knew it was his only option.
Now Christopher ought to be ready for him at the port, but Thomas was still nervous. It was hard to put so much trust into someone all of a sudden. And he knew he had been making a great many sudden choices of late, but that did not make any of them any easier. Even this one. Especially this one.
He slipped into his seat in the carriage as the servants loaded his bags onto it. Christopher had insisted on going on some sort of a spending spree to ensure that Thomas would have everything he needed. All sorts of clothes and even some jewelry, a wide selection of wines and sweets, vast numbers of English books, and all manner of knick-knacks. As the carriage creaked a little under the weight on top of it, Thomas wondered if perhaps Christopher had gone a little bit more overboard than was safe.
But the carriage held the weight, and the unfortunate horses strained and began to trot, pulling their load in the direction of the shore.
Thomas was half expecting to be interrupted by his parents. They had already stopped by the house several times demanding to see him. They had knocked on the door, sent servants, sent the police... But they had no proof he was there, and it was their accusation against the defense of the son of a highly respected Duke. Naturally, their complaints got them nowhere, and eventually they apologized profusely and stopped visiting.
Nevertheless, Thomas felt an acute anxiety that perhaps they were just biding their time, waiting to spy him through a window or intercept him leaving the mansion. He had played out his journey a thousand times in his mind, and half of those times involved his parents stopping the carriage and having him taken away.
Nobody showed up. His parents had apparently been eventually persuaded that he was not living with Christopher. Not even Delilah had been told he actually was staying there. The road stood open and empty as the carriage rolled down it, the horses slowly picking up pace.
The hairs on the back of Thomas’ neck stood on end as they drew near to where his family’s home was. The curtains were drawn on the carriage and he could barely peer out between them, but the fear he felt was nonetheless intense. He spied someone in the garden and sat back away from the window. He had not made out who it was, and he did not want to look again. He simply wanted to leave.
As they left the village behind, Thomas gradually began to relax. After several hours he opened the curtain and began to watch the landscape roll by. But he was surprised to find that, however much he wanted to watch every second of his trip, he could barely stay awake.
At first, he had felt reassured in the mansion, sleeping cuddled up to Christopher's chest, his strong arm wrapped around Thomas’ shoulders. But the last two nights, Christopher had not been there, leaving Thomas feeling alone and paranoid. He had barely slept at all, every sound making him afraid someone was coming to lock him up in an institution. Although he had tried to reassure himself that they would have to get past the staff first, without Christopher's comforting presence, he was unable to rest.
The carriage bumped along the winding roads and Thomas, exhausted and finally far away enough from his family to relax, found his eyelids heavy.
***
The trip took several days. Christopher had probably got there in a matter of three days at the most, possibly within the two days he had planned, and made his preparations. But a single horse and rider were much faster than a loaded carriage, and Thomas had plenty of time left alone with his thoughts.
He found himself still torn the whole way. Watching the British countryside roll by, he realized how little of his own country he had seen anyway. Perhaps he could retire somewhere in Wales, or Scotland, where he would be left in peace, but still speak the language and still be able to see his family?
Sure, they had treated him terribly, but they were bonded to him by blood, after all. Deep in his heart he still held a hope that they would come to forgive him and accept him for who he was. Alongside that hope he held a fear. He held a fear that he still loved them too much, and that leaving England behind might break his heart. He had felt so utterly alone in the mansion without Christopher. He knew that the support of a loving family would have made the solitude easier to bear.
But time and time again, as the carriage rolled on and Plymouth drew ever nearer, he had to remind himself that he did not have a loving family. Save Delilah, they did not care for him or accept him. And they would all probably be happy to see him go.
But that knowledge didn't make it any easier.
***
Thomas awoke to the carriage halting and the sound of seagulls screaming. He had never been as far as Plymouth before, and the smell of sea air and the bustle of a larger city caught him off guard. This was much more crowded than the towns further North were, and the people looked through him as they rushed this way and that, each thinking his business more important than anyone else's.
Thomas too, was absorbed in his own little bubble. Christopher was there. Thomas resisted the urge to run up and throw himself into his lover's arms. He waited for Christopher to calmly approach him, upon which he hugged the older man tenderly. Anyone looking on casually may have thought them dear friends, or maybe brothers. Nobody was paying enough attention to catch the loving gaze they shared.
A servant made his way up to Christopher and was directed to take the pile of bags and boxes from the top of the carriage and load them onto the medium-sized ship behind them.
Looking it up and down, Thomas noted that it was not quite as beautiful as they appeared to be in books. It had some strange slime growing up the side of it, rusty chains, and the seagulls were staining it faster than the cabin boy could clean. But it was beautiful in a sense other than physical. It was beautiful in the freedom it represented.
As their bags were loaded onto the ship, Christopher took Thomas’ hand and guided him on and toward their cabin. The ship bobbed gently on the waves, and Thomas felt a little nervous, but was fortunately not nauseous. As he followed Christopher into the cabin, he noticed the fairly large double bed and the tables beside it which were all bolted to the floor, to fight the rocking of the ship on the waves.
Shutting the door and spinning around on the spot to face Thomas, Christopher locked lips with him and began to gently bite his lower lip. Thomas moaned and kissed him back, moving so that their bodies were pressed warmly against one another. He had missed that sensation. The warmth, the strength, the comfort of Christopher's body.
He felt Christopher beginning to slide his trousers down. His hand darted down to hold them up. “I... I am really not sure we ought to,” he laughed a little nervously.
Christopher nodded. “Are you feeling seasick?” he asked.
Thomas shook his head, glancing from one side to the other of the small cabin. “Well... it is not very private,” he said.
Christopher shook his head. “It will be fine. I have hired the entire ship. Nobody but us and the crew. If you want to do anything, you can just do it. Do you want to?”
Thomas blushed and nodded. “I... I have missed you very much. Physically as well.”
“If you want to, and I want to then we can,” Christopher said with a grin, climbing on top of Thomas.
Thomas laughed nervously before pulling Christopher into a kiss. Despite Christopher's assurances, it still felt a little risky, a little naughty. Nevertheless, he still wanted to. Something about that naughtiness was simply delectable. Just like their first time together, by the piano.
The sound of a horn startled him so much he sat bolt upright, headbutting Christopher square in the jaw. “What was that?” he asked.
Christopher, rubbing his sore face, laughed a little. “That means we are ready to go. They are pulling up the anchor. Have a look, we should be leaving the port behind any time now.”
Christopher moved back so Thomas could sit up and look out the porthole, which overlooked the docks. Thomas moved out from under Christopher and stepped up close to the porthole, looking out at what he knew would be his last view of England. At least for now.
He saw that the ship was beginning to depart and was surprised when he felt no loss. Rather than feel he was leaving a safe home and his loved ones behind, he felt a great burden was fading away with the coastline. The people and places he was leaving had loved him for who he was not, more for his family than for himself. And they would have despised him had they known who he truly was.
In this new life, he would be free.
He felt Christopher planting kisses up and down his neck and shivered in anticipation. “Shall we go back to the bed?” he asked.
“It's all right if you want to watch until you can't see England anymore,” Christopher replied.
Thomas turned around and shook his head. “I have seen enough of England for a lifetime.”
Christopher leaned down and they kissed, slowly making their way over to the bed. Thomas fell backwards onto it, looking up at Christopher. The older man was so tall, so strong, so magnificent. It took Thomas’ breath away. If he had to choose between family who despised and abused him, or a lover who cared for and spoiled him, he would take Christopher every time.
He reached toward the hard bulge in Christopher's trousers. His mouth was watering already. But Christopher's hand swept in and stopped him. “I think it's your turn,” Christopher said softly, dropping to his knees between Thomas’ legs and reaching into his trousers. Although he had already experienced the thrill of Christopher's mouth a few times during their week together, he still couldn't help but moan in delight as his lover began to lick him from base to tip. Christopher certainly knew what he was doing.
He fell back on the bed and, feeling Christopher pulling his trousers right off, shook one leg free and lifted it up to the edge of the bed. He was not sure if Christopher was moving differently or it was his own disorientation, but the gentle rocking of the ship was actually adding to the sensations. He felt almost weightless.
Thomas felt a finger slip inside him as Christopher sucked. He was not sure how or when Christopher had found some lubrication, but he had. This was not a first either, but once again the bobbing of the ship added an interesting dimension and Thomas ground down on the probing finger, trying to guide it toward that one spot that felt so good...
When Christopher found it, Thomas let out a gasp and tried to push his hips down on Christopher's finger again and again. He still could not comprehend how this could feel so amazing, but in the heat of the moment, he was not about to question it. Another finger was added and Christopher began to curl them gently, pressing that spot each time, drawing moan after moan out of Thomas’ lips.
Christopher continued taking Thomas deeper and deeper into his mouth, his every movement sending shivers down Thomas’ spine. He could not help himself, he ran his fingers through Christopher's hair and, pushing his head down, thrust into his mouth. Christopher's movement all but stopped as he let Thomas fuck his face, only his fingers still moving as vigorously.
Thomas could not hold back. He felt his entire body tense as he thrust into Christopher's throat, shooting his load with a cry of pleasure.
He collapsed back on the bed, letting Christopher go, hearing his lover finish swallowing the last drop. Knowing that his seed was inside Christopher gave him goosebumps, and he smiled.
Christopher climbed on top of him and kissed him deeply. Thomas let out another moan of delight as he tasted himself in his lover's mouth.
Breaking the kiss, Christopher grinned. “You are definitely getting used to being more vocal.”
Thomas blushed, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “Thank you.” It was true. He had been so used to staying quiet, so used to being ashamed and afraid. It had taken a lot to teach him to relax and let passion take over. But he was enjoying it.
“I wonder...” Christopher began, staring deeply into Thomas’ eyes.
“You wonder?” Thomas replied.
“I wonder how loudly I can make you scream with pleasure.” Christopher said, stroking Thomas’ cheek.
“Only one way of finding out,” Thomas said with a smile.