What happened to Thomas Barrow ⎹ Downton Abbey⎹ Explicit 18+⎹ M/M⎹ Gay ♥ FanFic⎹

The beautiful people.

It's a beautiful day. I'm wandering through my gardens. I can feel him as he strolls behind me with watchful eyes. I know when he folds and unfolds his hands as he's worried about me. I know he wants me. It turns me on. I'm coy and I stop abruptly so that he bumps into me, sending a wave of cheap cologne through the air and I breathe in deeply. He doesn't know that I watch him. He doesn't know I peered into his room this morning and put on his clothes. That I slicked my hair back to look like him but that it only made me look like an idiot.

It's breakfast, lunch or dinner, and he does his job stiffly as he nods and serves and he has his back to me. I rest my chin on my hand, and bite my lip as I stare at him, and I blush as I remember that I've seen how he looks under the thick fabric of his livery. He plays the ice man but I know what breathes underneath. There's hot lava bubbling at the heart of this mountain. I felt him crumble under my touch. I want to break you. I want to drive you insane. I won.

It's morning and I wake up early so I can catch him outside, smoking a cigarette, standing straight in all his might and glory. I want to touch him. Instead I touch myself. It doesn't take long as he spent the night dominating my dreams and I wake up wanting. I spill hot lust onto my hand and I wipe it on my night robe. Now what.

Thomas's serving tea with a composed demeanour. I invent some nonsense and some excuse for him to linger so I can stare. Thomas has a sculpted face and an unsettling beauty. Eyes like two headlights in the dusky night. Hair as dark as the raven's feathers, my old fellow. He looks so austere. But I know. He blows cold. I blow hot. He blows hot. I blow cold. The ravages we'd made should we be an item. What am I saying. He notices my stare and I look away. He doesn't have to know that he's wrenched me inside out. Emma's looking and I don't want to hurt her, but what can she do that I didn't choose to ignore. She doesn't know what I know.

It's raining today and I go outside only in my jacket, and I run through the gardens. I give it two minutes before Thomas rushes out, holding coat and umbrella. I lift my chin and enjoy the feeling of icy water as it drips down my face. Thomas mumbles nonsense about pneumonia. He grabs my arm to lead me back inside. He's touching me. Fire. Fire. I know what I'm doing. I pretend I don't see him or that I'm sedated. Hush. Don't make a move. He wraps his hands around me to pull me and it makes my heart swell. I want to laugh and clinch back but I can't ruin my cover. I play dumb. I play wild. After a while he rests his head against my back, panting and exhausted. I shut my eyes and enjoy the stay. I snap out of my simulated daze. We go home. I start sneezing. I hope it's not pneumonia.

I'm sick so they put me to bed, which I really like because I can think about Thomas. Free of all torment. Free of his desire for me. I flutter my eyes shut. I see Thomas's face and he's smiling at me. Cigarette's smoke tracing a ladder. I feel my lips curl up despite me. My tongue creeps up the corner of my mouth as I try to imagine him an I engaged in some action. I don't have much time. I hear the explosions in the back of my head, yet still faintly. They'll be here soon. I reach out a hand to Thomas, but he doesn't move. He keeps smiling and repeating "I really think I do." He chuckles. I hear bullets slicing the thin air and my men's ragged breathing as they close in. Everything turns dark. Now it's just him and I, floating through the ether. A screeching noise announces the end of my peaceful fantasy, followed by the muffled sound of the great Basilica. Thomas stops smiling as the explosion sucks him in. I stare as the shrapnel tears at his face and leaves nothing but a hole. I remain still but for the beating of my heart, loud and brutal behind my chest. This has happened before. I kneel down. Something on the floor is shining brightly. I pick it up. I realise what it is, and starts screaming.

*

It was a beautiful morning, Thomas thought as he woke up that day. Clear blue sky and birds already tweeting merrily. It was Friday, and it was a special day. Well, in theory.