[Adult] touch of heavenly light

[Cassius Boone]

It was more honesty than Cash had really expected. He couldn't blame the man – he had no way really to know what it was like to help arrange moving an entire noble household and their guests halfway across the country, even if the country was pretty damn small, but he could guess it was a fair bit of doing. Still, he didn't like to see it, and he didn't like that there wasn't much he could do to help ease that burden.

Not that he owed Arthur anything, though. He'd been a good fuck, and he'd been very generous in giving Cash that new suit, and now in stitching up this one, but they'd met all of two times now. It also didn't escape the cowboy how important a position the younger man held within the household. Implying any sort of mistreatment just because it was hard work would probably be taken as an insult, and Cash wasn't sure it wouldn't genuinely be one.

"Ain't sure what thanks I'm owed just for havin' eyes, but I s'pose you're welcome." He snorted softly in response, shaking his head even as he smiled. The smile broadened at the warning, and how Arthur was right back to his excruciatingly proper self. "The only vigorous exercises they'll have to survive is walkin' back to my room. Long as I ain't called on by the duke 'tween now and tomorrow or so, I've got duds I can get by with." It wasn't the trousers he reached for, but rather the other man's hand. With a gentle tug, he pulled him in, fully intending on pulling him onto his lap if Arthur would allow it.

"I find myself in your debt again, Mr. Beckwith. Can't do much for sleepless nights, but I reckon I can help you relax just a bit, if you've got time." It was certainly self-serving; the cowboy was hardly distraught to think about bedding the valet again. But if he couldn't do much for an entire household's worth of responsibilities, at least he could offer a quick and quiet moment of respite... If the valet were so inclined as to accept.

[Arthur Beckwith]

Arthur plunked down despite himself, trousers still in hand, and allowed a touch of his typical impishness to color his smile. The impulse to lean in and press their mouths together was strong, but he strangled it back and settled for staring at Boone's unkissed lips in shameless longing a moment instead.

"I haven't," he admitted with some obvious regret, lifting his gaze to Boone's pale eyes. "Would that I did." He did not reach out as he might have liked, did not bump his nose against Boone's, catlike. To begin could only lead places there was no time for.

"Give me a couple of days? I ought to be caught up by then."

[Cassius Boone]

The other man's weight in his lap felt good; felt right, in a way that it had no business feeling like. They'd known each other all of a week or two; met and fucked the once, barely exchanged a few words this time. Still, the valet was easy to spend time with, and the size of him really was just right.

That made it all the more damn difficult to hear the denial, to keep from just tossing him on the bed and mounting him anyway. Instead the cowboy heaved a heavy, resigned sigh – for all that he grinned anyway. "A few days," he agreed in a low rumble, giving in anyway to kiss the slim man briefly, though his lips then trailed down to that soft throat. Cash wouldn't ever dream of leaving marks above that tall and stiff collar, but the soft brush of his lips and tongue would be something only the two of them knew about.

And then he pulled away, sighing again more softly; more in genuine disappointment. "I'll bring the suit tomorrow, then call on you during the weekend." That made it sound so formal, and his nose wrinkled in reflection of his word choice. "Look at you, got me talkin' all fancy-like." A laugh, a bit rueful, accompanied the words, as did another kiss. Reluctantly, he loosened the arms that held the valet closely, allowing Arthur to stand and following him to his own feet.

The trousers were taken only then, and the careful process of putting them on was complicated a hair by his burgeoning hardness being disinclined to dress left or right. Still, he managed, offering the dressing gown back to the valet. "You better get rested up," Cash advised, shrugging back into his suit jacket as he headed for Arthur's door. "And thanks again, for the pants." Then with a last grin and a wink, he was out the door and heading down the hall, whistling Dixie through his teeth.