Summer-Sky Eyes

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Downton Abbey,
January 17th 1920
1 am.

Thomas was tip-toeing through the hallways of Downton, careful to not make the floor creek beneath his feet. Over his arm he was carrying his suit as a safety measure, in case he would not be able to sneak out in the morning, so he could dress himself and simply pretend Matthew had called on him early. Thomas Barrow was sneaking through the house towards Matthew — just like they had planned this morning when Matthew, finally, had settled into the room. A new life that awaited the two of them. No more cold nights or uncomfortable sheds, now they had a warm bed for their nights of passion and company.

He found the door and opened it without knocking and, in the light of a lamp, sat Matthew Crawley with a book in his lap. Their eyes met and they were both in disbelief for a moment, that here they were — everything seemed to have fallen into place. They were together again, they could be seen together, travel together — all under the disguise of Thomas being Matthew's valet.

Matthew closed the book and put it aside, Thomas tossed his suit on the ground, and in the middle of the room they met. "My Darling" Matthew whispered as he came to caress Thomas' cheeks with his fingertips.

"My Matthew" Thomas whispered back and rested his forehead to Matthew's as he began unbuttoning Matthew's shirt. "Let me see you fully..."

Matthew laughed and began removing Thomas' clothes as well, slipping his blazer off and feeling his shoulders and arms in the process. He shuddered by just touching this man, just feeling his muscles through the shirt was enough to cause Matthew to crave Thomas — then again just the sight of the valet did that to Matthew as well. They undressed each other slowly for there was no need to rush. They didn't need to hurry before morning came, they didn't need to trample through the forest and lose sleep. They could be here in Matthew's room, together at last.

Thomas took a step back once they were both undressed and he just let his eyes wander over Matthew's body. Every inch of him was perfectly constructed. His body was perfectly made to be pressed against Thomas'. His chest breathed so perfectly where he stood and the blush upon Matthew's cheek was the sweetest thing in Thomas' eyes. There were no faults on this man, not to Thomas and, anyone who disagreed with him, was a fool. It felt like they finally had all the time in the world to take each other in. There was no war outside the door, no long forest walks to steal time from them. In the world there were just the two of them.

"You're so beautiful" Thomas said and gripped Matthew's behind, pulling him close and hoisted him up as they began a long and tender kiss. Matthew's arms were around Thomas' neck and Thomas' arms held him firmly under his buttocks. There was hunger in them alright, there always was, but this time it was a hunger for nothing but love and tenderness. That one night in the forest of their reunion hadn't been enough and the days inbetween hadn't allowed them more than stolen kisses, a quick hand to Matthew's groyne, and a brief walk. Now they had all the time they could possibly have, all the time two men like them were allowed to have — and they had it better than most.

Matthew's nose rubbed over Thomas's each time they tilted their heads with the kiss. His fingers tickled the nape of Thomas' neck. He was so unbelievably in love his whole heart screamed. What a fool he had been to condemn this, what a fool he had been to think something like this to be a sin. What a fool Matthew Crawley had been for throwing Thomas away when all he had wanted was him. A laugh escaped Matthew's lips when Thomas spun them around and around on his feet, holding on tighter to the man he loved and then they fell sideways onto the bed and their kiss broke.

Matthew settled with one leg over Thomas' waist, and Thomas' hand came to stroke his thigh slowly. Matthew's index finger came to trace down Thomas' forehead, over his nose, his lips and his chin before moving up his incredible jawline and cheekbones.

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