Brimsley and Reynolds

Chapter 8*

A/N: This chapter has some sexy scenes ;)

Brimsley was getting impatient. "How long does it take for that man to scrub off some dirt?" He thought breathlessly. He ripped off his outer jacket, its confining fabric getting the better of his nerves. Of course, that was not what was unnerving him. He hadn't wanted to think about it, he wanted to just act on impulse. The longer he had to think about it, the longer he had to talk himself out of it. That was, of course, until Reynolds actually entered the room.

He came in slowly, his eyes not leaving Brimsley's as he methodically opened, shut, and locked the door. His lower portion was covered in a white towel, everything else bare. His hair looked like it was already starting to dry. "That bastard made me wait on purpose," Brimsley thought, peeved.

"So," Reynolds began, "How are we going to do this?" Brimsley walked up to him, pushing him against the door as he placed his hands on both sides of Reynolds' face. "Like this," he said. He kissed him, hard, the way he'd been dreaming of kissing him for weeks. Reynolds kissed him back, just as deeply and passionately. "I suppose that will do," Reynolds breathed into his mouth in a low, sardonic voice. Brimsley exhaled in unbelief, "You suppose huh?" This time, it was Reynolds who first slid his tongue into his mouth, allowing the kiss to deepen even further.

Brimsley pulled his mouth away, pinning Reynolds' arms to each side of the closed door. Reynolds let out a whimper as Brimsley lightly kissed the soft spot below the corner of his jaw. Brimsley grinned, glancing upward. "You like that?" He asked softly, kissing the same spot again. "Mmmm," was his only response.

He continued kissing that spot, sucking on the downy skin ever so lightly so as not to leave a mark. He began to move down, softly sucking on the skin of his collar bone, then moving down to his torso. He could hear Reynolds' breath quickening as he began kissing the area right above the line of the towel, short spurts of air coming out rapidly.

Brimsley knelt down to his knees, bringing his hands to the already loose knot of the towel, but pauses before untying it. He's not sure, but he has a feeling this is Reynolds' first time, with a man at least. He looks up at Reynolds' face, "Do you want me to? You don't have to want me to you know, its ok," Reynolds groaned, pulling Brimsley up by the hem of his shirt, he spoke into his parted lips, "I want this, I want you," he said slowly. Brimsley kissed him, slow and deep, before kneeling down again.

The knot came loose easily, needing just a careful tug before the towel dropped to the floor. Brimsley placed his hands on either side of Reynolds' hips, looking upwards as his tongue wrapped around his tip, starting slow. Reynolds' head jerked upwards, moaning loudly as Brimsley worked his way further and further. It was lunch break, and their rooms were isolated from the other staff quarters and dining areas. There was no one to hear them.

Brimsley could feel every movement of Reynolds' body, every sound his mouth made. Reynolds moved a hand down, holding and stroking Brimsley's hair as he moved back and forth. Brimsley thought he would die right then and there. Reynolds' hand in his hair, the face he was making, the face that he was making him make. Reynolds' moans grew louder and louder, with less time in between. He was nearly yelling as he finished, his high pitched moans fading into satisfied whimpers of pleasure as he slid down, panting, next to a flushed Brimsley.

They smiled at each other, Reynolds pulled Brimsley in so that his back was against his chest, wrapping his arms around is shoulders. 

"So....that was," Brimsley said, laughing.

 "Yea," Reynolds remarked, chuckling with him. Brimsley turned his head to face Reynolds, looking up into his eyes.

 "Was it....you know? Did it work for you?" Brinkley asked quietly. 

Reynolds opened his mouth in shock, before pulling Brimsley in even closer and whispering in his ears, kissing the side of his face in between his words. "Did you hear me Brimsley? God, I made noises I didn't even know I could. It definitely worked for me," he tickled Brimsley's ear with his breath, causing a round of giggles for both of them. "You know, I could do it for you, if you wanted me to,"

 Brimsley smiled, but pointed at the clock. "Lunch is almost over. Anyway, I'd rather just stay like this for a while," He let out a satisfied sigh, feeling both of their chests going up and down in unison. Up and down, up and down.

****

Time was moving strangely fast in the palace. Everyone was always rushing, and Brimsley noticed he began to see less and less of the King as the wedding grew near. And seeing less of the King meant seeing less of Reynolds. Not that he was a major concern of his, Reynolds. They weren't a couple, how could they be? And everything that he said in the library still stands, he can't allow attachment, it's too much, too risky. If he's learned anything in his time at the palace so far, it's that it is not the place for risks.

Not that what was happening between them wasn't a risk, but still, these sort of things were tricky. A week has passed since he pushed Reynolds into the bath room, and of course, everything else that followed. The Queen was to arrive in less than a week, and the closer in proximity the event became, the crazier all in the palace began to behave. Everyone was rushing about, complaining about this or that. Except for the King of course, the very man this whole ordeal is taking place because of. Ms. Carter had been on a rampage, hunting down every last seating card and bouquet until it fit what she expected exactly. The footmen and maids are constantly cleaning this or fixing that. Ms. Burnard had been cooking non stop, yesterday she made four different versions of the same soup before she could pick one to be sampled by Princess Augusta.

Everything was run through Princess Augusta, and since the King's recent lack of presence in the palace, she had been running around the place enough to put Ms. Carter to shame. All together, the entire palace has lost their heads, but on the bright side, he is certainly no longer bored. The nights are a different thing entirely, as they are almost always spent with Reynolds by his side. They usually sleep in Reynolds' room, seeing as it's bigger, something he still can't understand.

The morning two days before the wedding, Brimsley wakes up in Reynolds' arms. He sits up, lazily stretching as he looks down at Reynolds' sleeping form. He's such a still sleeper, seeming almost like a fine marble statue as he lays there under the covers. It's early, but they've been needing to get up earlier and earlier in preparation for the wedding. He tousles Reynolds hair, rubbing the fine strands of gold between the tips of his fingers as he watches his eyes flutter open.

Reynolds sits up, taking Brimsley into his arms in the way he sometimes does. Brimsley leans his head back, placing a soft kiss on the spot below his jaw before turning to face forward. They're both staring at the door connecting to Brimsley's room. 

"Say, do you have any clue why there's a door connecting our rooms together anyhow?" Brimsley asks. 

Reynolds laughs, "You know, I actually heard a story about that once. Supposedly King George II had a fondness for cats, and he would keep them all in one room, and he had a small opening to the room adjacent made for their feline chamber pots," he snickered.

 Brimsley rolls his eyes, "Oh come on, can't you tell me the real story?" 

Reynolds groans, "That is the real story! Ms. Carter had all the cats tossed out after the late King kicked the bucket, and decided to turn the cat door into an actual door so that the King and Queen's men could alert each other at a moments notice,"

 Brimsley shook his head, laughing quietly. "Can you imagine what the King would say if he knew what his cat door was being used for now?"