Ford was barely aware of himself as he made his way to the washroom. His body seemed like it was existing in a different plane than the rest of him. Luckily he already knew where he was going, from his investigation of this place the week before. The door shut behind him and he leaned heavily on the counter, trying to force himself to breathe. He watched himself in the mirror for a moment, then poured some water into the sink and splashed it onto his face. It wasn’t that there was anything to wash off, really — it was more the sensation of having something cool on his skin, trying to force himself back into his body in a way that he could handle.
That had all happened too quickly. He’d never consciously thought about any of it happening, unless it was to push his brain a little further into denial as his body went off on its own accord. That was a little terrifying, though, because how much further could it have gotten if he’d spoken up just a minute or two later? Or if he hadn’t spoken up at all?
Ford looked in the mirror again. He angled his chin up so that his neck was exposed, then let his fingertips trail from the edge of his chin down the taut skin towards his shoulder. All the places Fisk had just kissed him. He shuddered involuntarily at the memory, then shook his head to try and clear it. He splashed water on his face again, getting the edge of his collar and the curls on his forehead wet. He was still aroused, but the bulge in his pants seemed like a secondary problem compared to the tingling feeling all over his skin. He felt hypersensitive to everything — how was he going to walk through London like this?
This whole thing was so risky, and he felt guilt settling in his stomach as the tingling in his arms and chest subsided. True, it wasn’t as though he’d planned for it to happen, but that would have been little consolation if someone had caught him. A complaint to the wrong person would be all it would take to lose his job, and it wasn’t as though he had a wealth of transferable skills he could just go apply elsewhere. A rumor in the wrong direction might see him ostracized from the club and from the social scene, and then where would the girls be? And if both were to happen — they were dead in the water, the lot of them. They might as well just take out as many loans as they could and flee the country and hope their creditors never caught up with them, because their chances of survival in England after something like that would be nonexistent.
Eventually he decided to go back out, not because he felt as though he’d fully recovered but because he thought his absence might start to feel conspicuous, and he’d straightened his clothing as much as he reasonably could. Fisk was working in the parlor when he returned. Ford loitered in the doorway. He bit his lower lip and tried to think of what to say. He had to say something, because he would have to come in to get his jacket.
“Hey,” he said, just to alert the other man to his presence in the doorway. He still didn’t know what to say, and the thing that came to mind most readily was I really liked what you were doing to my neck, but obviously that was out of the question.
“Sorry,” he said instead, cheeks flushing deep red.
Set by Lady!
That had all happened too quickly. He’d never consciously thought about any of it happening, unless it was to push his brain a little further into denial as his body went off on its own accord. That was a little terrifying, though, because how much further could it have gotten if he’d spoken up just a minute or two later? Or if he hadn’t spoken up at all?
Ford looked in the mirror again. He angled his chin up so that his neck was exposed, then let his fingertips trail from the edge of his chin down the taut skin towards his shoulder. All the places Fisk had just kissed him. He shuddered involuntarily at the memory, then shook his head to try and clear it. He splashed water on his face again, getting the edge of his collar and the curls on his forehead wet. He was still aroused, but the bulge in his pants seemed like a secondary problem compared to the tingling feeling all over his skin. He felt hypersensitive to everything — how was he going to walk through London like this?
This whole thing was so risky, and he felt guilt settling in his stomach as the tingling in his arms and chest subsided. True, it wasn’t as though he’d planned for it to happen, but that would have been little consolation if someone had caught him. A complaint to the wrong person would be all it would take to lose his job, and it wasn’t as though he had a wealth of transferable skills he could just go apply elsewhere. A rumor in the wrong direction might see him ostracized from the club and from the social scene, and then where would the girls be? And if both were to happen — they were dead in the water, the lot of them. They might as well just take out as many loans as they could and flee the country and hope their creditors never caught up with them, because their chances of survival in England after something like that would be nonexistent.
Eventually he decided to go back out, not because he felt as though he’d fully recovered but because he thought his absence might start to feel conspicuous, and he’d straightened his clothing as much as he reasonably could. Fisk was working in the parlor when he returned. Ford loitered in the doorway. He bit his lower lip and tried to think of what to say. He had to say something, because he would have to come in to get his jacket.
“Hey,” he said, just to alert the other man to his presence in the doorway. He still didn’t know what to say, and the thing that came to mind most readily was I really liked what you were doing to my neck, but obviously that was out of the question.
“Sorry,” he said instead, cheeks flushing deep red.
Set by Lady!