Chapter Text
Thomas emitted a perfunctory sigh as he sank down into one of the hard wooden chairs lining the servants’ dining table. Although he missed his usual position in the rocking chair in front of the fireplace at Downton, he was nevertheless quite content to make do with a cup of tea, a cigarette, and the newspaper.
The Crawleys had come to stay in the London house for part of the Season. They had only been there for a short while, but Thomas was already nearing his wits’ end. He was still acting as Lord Grantham’s valet in addition to his usual duties; such a juggling act was usually manageable, but the family had been entertaining almost constantly in the past fortnight and Thomas felt himself slipping. He must have looked positively exhausted as he had dressed Lord Grantham earlier in the evening for a ball, as the man had guiltily told him to take the remainder of the night to rest. The family would be returning very late anyway and he could stand to undress himself for once, he had said.
The house was now blissfully quiet and most of the servants had gone out on the town to enjoy a night off. Much to his chagrin, Thomas had felt a pang of envy as he watched Molesley and Baxter leave for the pictures, shooting each other sickeningly besotted looks. After the nightmare that had been “Choose Your Own Path,” Thomas had accepted the fact that such a normal romantic outing would never be a reality for him, but his longing for intimacy had only intensified. It was difficult to feel happy for the couple when his own happiness seemed so far out of reach.
His glum train of thought was interrupted when Andy strode into the hall, adjusting his tie and smoothing his lapels as he went. Upon spotting Thomas, however, his face lit up and he paused near the door. Even though they had been working together for some months now, Thomas still marveled at the ease with which Andy always smiled at him; there was never any judgment or trepidation in his expression, only warm, friendly recognition. Thomas wondered when he had started to look forward to Andy’s smiles every day.
“Good evening, Mr. Barrow. I thought you’d want to get out of the house tonight, what with all the extra work you’ve been doing lately.”
“No, not me. Been a long day, I think I’ll turn in early. Where are you off to, then?”
“Meeting up with some old mates for a pint.”
“As long as there’s no gambling involved, I reckon you’ll have a nice time.”
Andy laughed, shuffling his feet. “Right you are, Mr. Barrow. Make sure to get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Have a good night and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“You’re saying the sky’s the limit, then,” said Andy with a cheeky grin as he left.
Thomas realized with some disquiet that he was growing fonder of Andy the more time they spent together. With Jimmy, Thomas had become immediately infatuated; he had allowed his desire to cloud his faculties, leading him to rashly abandon all caution and rational thought. Andy, on the other hand, made Thomas feel remarkably clearheaded, as though his mere presence made everything somehow simpler and brighter. Thomas could not deny that he found Andy’s quirky good looks and youthful optimism endearing, but he had been burned too many times to let himself hope for anything beyond friendship.
Despite his apprehension over seeking out male companionship, especially following The Incident with Jimmy, Thomas knew that he could not impose on himself a life of celibacy and isolation. Such an existence would surely break him. It had already been far too long since he had last been with a man, years even.
And as he sat there, his tea cold and cigarette extinguished, he became so acutely aware of his own loneliness that it threatened to suffocate him. He was seized by a sudden need for physical contact, to have someone’s warm, bare skin pressed against his, to feel someone else’s arousal. Once the notion had made itself comfortably at home in Thomas’s mind, there was no shaking it. But did he dare?
He left his newspaper forgotten on the table, hurried to his room and closed the door. He paced for a while in an attempt to reason with himself, but he knew that he had already made up his mind. His weariness had been replaced with restlessness and his skin tingled with anticipation. He undressed quickly and clambered into his street clothes. Sparing only a minute to comb his hair and dab on some cologne, he donned his hat and coat and made his way out into the night.
Some of Thomas’s agitation left him as he emerged from St. James’s Square and began his short walk to Piccadilly Circus. The air was relatively warm and balmy for early May and the light breeze soothed his heated skin. Although few of the passersby spared him the briefest of looks, he felt unsettled each time he felt eyes on his person, as though they sensed the purpose of his evening excursion. He pulled his hat further down over his brow and took on a more rapid pace.
Thomas didn’t much fancy wandering down every shadowy side street in the Dilly in pursuit of an establishment that catered to his tastes. He recalled a popular but discreet club he had once visited in the early postwar years; in fact, it was located off of Shaftesbury Avenue, not far from the Velvet Violin where he had accompanied Andy and Miss Denker. Due to the ever changing nature of such illicit meeting places, there was more than a decent chance it was no longer there, but Thomas decided to try his luck.
Much to his pleasant surprise, Thomas ascended an unobtrusive narrow staircase and found the place just as he’d left it, an unremarkable hole in the wall sporting a reassuring “Men Only” sign on the door. He was still not completely convinced that the club had maintained the same character over the years until he stepped inside and surveyed the clientele. The lighting was soft and dim and he observed a number of couples sat in intimate conversation, knees touching and hands held.
Now that he was certain he had come to the right place, he approached the bar. After he received his pint of bitter from the barman, he turned to scan the room for someone he might strike up a flirtation with. But as he looked along the bar, he saw something that made his heart leap into his throat.
Of all the people to cross paths with that night, there was Andy, stood not ten feet away. The young man seemed oblivious to Thomas’s presence as he sipped his beer and chatted with a bloke at the counter.
As his initial shock abated, Thomas had to wonder if Andy even comprehended the exact nature of the club he was in. While Andy might have been naive in some respects, the overtly suggestive body language of the patrons could not have escaped his notice. But if Andy knew what kind of club this was and had chosen to come here, then that could only mean…
Thomas was so overcome by this revelation he seemed to have lost the ability to move. He was transfixed by the sight of Andy in such an improbable setting; he snapped his jaw shut once he realized he’d been standing there gaping for half a minute. He was very close to the exit, but if he made to leave now he risked drawing Andy’s attention.
When he dragged his gaze back over to Andy, Thomas observed some discomfort in his demeanor. As he kept watching, the source of Andy’s distress seemed to be the man who had taken an interest in him at the bar. The man, tall and weedy with a pencil mustache to frame his lecherous grin, had leaned in very close to Andy, effectively pinning him to the counter. The part that bothered Thomas the most was the way the man had curled his hand possessively around Andy’s bicep and did not remove it. So much for an inconspicuous exit.
Thomas was rewarded for only the briefest of seconds with the comical widening of Andy’s eyes once they alighted on him drawing near. Without missing a beat, Thomas swooped in and slung his arm across Andy’s shoulders.
“So sorry I’m late, darling. I’m afraid I had some trouble finding the place. Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” said Thomas breezily with the widest fake grin he could manage. He squeezed Andy’s shoulder in the hopes he would take it as a signal to play along.
“Uh - um, that’s alright… darling,” stammered Andy, clearly flummoxed by this sudden turn of events. “This gentleman calls himself Mr. Smith.”
“Ah, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Smith,” said Thomas with a sneer, his tone taking on a flinty edge. “But you can bugger off now. He’s already spoken for.”
Mr. Smith looked as though Thomas had just slapped him. He opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it and stalked off to the other side of the room.
“I shouldn’t have been so blunt, but I figured he wouldn’t want to put up a fuss and draw attention,” Thomas said to his friend, who now looked fit to pass out.
“Oh God, I’m such a fool. What was I thinking, coming here?” said Andy, panic blooming in his voice. “Please, Mr. Barrow, you won’t say nothing, will you? I’ll do anything, please just don’t tell anyone…”
“Andy, calm down. You’ll not have any trouble from me, I promise,” said Thomas softly, laying a placating hand on Andy’s arm. “I think you’re forgetting that I’d be implicating myself as well. After all, we both came here for the same reason, if I’m not somehow mistaken.”
Thomas paused to let his words sink in and was not let down when he saw understanding in Andy’s eyes.
“So you really did come here by yourself? Without knowing I was here?” said Andy.
“Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are. When I first spotted you, I was going to leave, but then I saw you weren’t very receptive to Mr. Smith’s advances.”
“Thanks for getting rid of him. I didn’t know what to do,” said Andy as he leant heavily against the counter. “I’m feeling a bit lightheaded.”
“I’m sorry for giving you a fright. Let’s go sit down, yeah?” said Thomas.
He took Andy by the elbow and led him to a secluded rounded booth in the corner. They sat side by side in silence for a time, both downing their beers faster than was strictly necessary. Thomas considered this to be one of the stranger situations he had ever found himself in. However unnerved he was, he resolved to pull himself together for Andy’s sake.
“What are the odds, eh?” Thomas said to Andy with what he hoped was a comforting expression. He reached into his breast pocket for his cigarette case and lighter.
Andy let out a shaky laugh. “I thought this would be the last place I’d run in to someone I knew. Do you think I can have one of those?”
“Certainly,” said Thomas, proffering his case. Andy chose one and slid closer for Thomas to light it. Their hands brushed together and Andy coughed a couple of times on the exhale.
“So, this is your first time.” Thomas gestured towards the room at large and took a deep, satisfying drag on his cigarette.
“I’m such a bloody fool,” Andy repeated. “I didn’t even think it through past getting in the door. I daresay my inexperience was fairly obvious.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” said Thomas. “It’s a difficult world to navigate and I think you were very brave to come here. How’d you find this place, anyway?”
“Miss Denker, if you can believe it,” said Andy with an embarrassed laugh as Thomas raised his eyebrows. “She showed me around the area before we went to that club the first night. We passed by this place and she told me I ought to avoid it unless I wanted a good buggering.”
“She doesn’t mince words, does she?” said Thomas, shaking his head.
“That’s not to say that I do want a good buggering… or want to give someone else… oh, bollocks!” Andy broke off, flustered. What little of Andy’s face Thomas could see behind his large hands was bright red.
“It’s alright, Andy, I understand your meaning,” said Thomas, unable to withhold a chuckle at Andy’s mortification. “But why did you come here, truly? Why tonight?”
Andy took his hands away from his face, sighing. As his coloring returned to normal, his expression became pensive. He circled a long finger around the rim of his empty pint glass.
“At the beginning of the week, I was out running errands and I ran into one of the blokes I used to work with. We were good mates, and I quite fancied him, to be honest. Told me he’s getting married this summer.”
Thomas took one last drag before stubbing out his cigarette. He turned to give Andy his full attention, noting that the young man’s expression had adopted a kind of vulnerability. He waited patiently for Andy to continue; Thomas realized that it couldn’t be easy for him to speak of such things.
“Only it got me thinking, you know? Friends I grew up with are getting married and I’ve never tried being with anyone. Always knew I was different from the other lads, since I wasn’t exactly interested in inviting one of the maids out behind the house for a snog. Once I owned up to myself about fancying blokes, I was too scared of getting arrested to try anything.”
By this point, tears had begun to form in Andy’s eyes. He hastily swiped at them as though alarmed to find them there. Thomas reached for his handkerchief and gave it to Andy, who took it without comment.
“I can accept not getting married and having a family,” said Andy, drying his eyes, “but I can’t accept being alone all my life. I thought maybe if I could pretend for one night… Never mind, I know that sounds silly…”
“That’s not silly at all,” said Thomas, now making an effort to keep his own eyes dry. He had never before been able to empathize with another person so completely. Thomas recognized the pain in Andy’s voice because he had carried that same pain his entire life. “No one deserves to be alone, ‘specially not someone so kind as you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Barrow. That’s good of you to say,” said Andy with a watery smile.
“Please, call me Thomas. It sounds so strange to be called Mr. Barrow in here.”
“Alright, Thomas. I admit, I did suspect you might be the same as me. It wasn’t something you did, or anything. Just some things the others have said about you.”
“What have they said, then?” Thomas was not foolish enough to believe that gossip about him didn’t circulate below stairs, but he still bristled at the notion.
“Not much. Just subtle things they probably thought I wasn’t worldly enough to pick up on.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“I also overhead some things about you and the other footman who used to work at Downton. I mean, it’s your business and you needn’t tell me if you don’t want, but I wondered if there was something between the two of you.”
Thomas took a deep breath and fiddled with the glove on his left hand. With all the chatter at Downton, it was only a matter of time before Andy heard something about the ordeal. An image of Jimmy, angry and shouting, rose unbidden to the fore of Thomas’s mind.
“It’s not something I like to talk about, but you should probably know anyway. I was very taken with Jimmy and someone we worked with manipulated me into believing that he returned my feelings. That led me to make a rather bold pass at him and the whole thing blew up in my face. I must’ve been out of my mind. That one mistake nearly cost me my livelihood, could’ve even ended up in prison. We worked it out and became friends in the end, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t leave scars.”
“That must have hurt for him to reject you like that. When you cared about him so much,” said Andy.
At the time of The Incident, Thomas had received some sympathy from the others for facing the loss of his job without reference, but this was the first time someone had acknowledged his devastation over Jimmy’s disgust and repudiation. Thomas felt his throat constrict and his eyes water; to conceal his reaction, he volunteered to buy another round. He made sure to compose himself before returning to their table.
After taking a sip of his beer, Andy asked, “Do you mind if I ask you another personal question?”
“By all means,” said Thomas. He usually loathed such candid conversation, but he found speaking so honestly about this hidden part of himself with Andy, someone who understood, to be extraordinarily cathartic.
“Do you go out to these kinds of places often?” asked Andy, staring down at the table.
On the surface, the question was a simple one, but Thomas knew better. What Andy really wanted to know was not just how often he frequented such illicit establishments, but how often those outings led to sexual encounters. He was curious where Thomas went to have sex with the men he picked up, if he stayed with them the whole night or less than an hour, if he knew their names or they knew his. If Thomas felt even lonelier afterwards than he had before.
“In my younger years, before the war, I’d go out to look for company occasionally. However, I’ve found that working in service comes with its own opportunities if you know your way about.”
“You mean with upstairs guests and the like?” asked Andy, his shocked tone laced with a tinge of jealousy. “I’d never be brave enough to risk it.”
“I’ve had some close calls to be sure,” said Thomas, thinking of how he had utterly misread the desires of the Turk. “But there were good times as well. One London Season I was working at a party and I caught the eye of a duke. We carried on all summer, actually.”
“What happened?”
“The summer ended,” said Thomas, decidedly not elaborating on the heartbreak and disappointment that would later transpire. “Got himself hitched to an American heiress some years back. Read about it in the paper.”
After that, the two of them fell silent; Thomas could tell from the furrowing of Andy’s brow that he was working to digest their conversation, so Thomas left him to it. Thomas lit another cigarette, offering a second one to Andy who shook his head. After stowing his case safely inside his jacket, Thomas looked back up to see Andy’s face reddening. Thomas followed his line of sight to a nearby hallway where, partially obscured in shadow, two of the patrons stood kissing rather passionately.
Once Andy became aware that Thomas had noticed him observing, Andy said, “Sorry, it’s just… I’ve never seen a man kiss another man before. I probably shouldn’t be watching something so private.”
“It’s only natural that you’d want to, no need to be ashamed,” said Thomas, blowing smoke onto the table. “Not like it’s something you see every day. Part of the appeal in coming here.”
Thomas and Andy looked on as the two men withdrew from the corridor and made a quick exit from the club.
“Where will they go, do you think?” Andy wondered aloud.
“Hopefully one of them will have a room to go back to where they won’t be conspicuous. Otherwise they might make do with a dark alley somewhere nearby.”
“That sounds awful.”
Exhaling a lungful of smoke, Thomas hummed his agreement. He suppressed a shudder as he recalled the last time he had ventured out into the city in pursuit of a lover for the night. He’d been so desperate with pent up lust that he’d let a man take him roughly up against a grimy brick wall. Thomas could still remember smelling the stench of rubbish and cat piss as the man hammered into him, breath hot and sticky against the back of his neck. He’d remained facing the wall for some time after the man left, sated but hollow. It made his stomach turn to think of Andy being in that situation.
“You shouldn’t ever do anything you’re not comfortable with, Andy. It’s not worth it.”
“I would feel comfortable with you.”
Thomas’s head snapped up. He must not have heard Andy correctly. “You what?”
“I would feel comfortable, were I to go to bed with you,” said Andy, making a wavering sort of eye contact with Thomas. His confidence seemed to have slipped somewhat at having to repeat himself.
Taken aback, Thomas stammered, “I-I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Andy.”
“I mean, I’d understand if you’re not attracted to me. You can tell me, you won’t hurt my feelings,” said Andy in a rush, now staring down at his lap.
“That’s not it at all. Believe me, I find you very attractive,” said Thomas, growing unpleasantly hot. Andy blushed as well.
“Then why not? Is it because we work together?”
“Yes, there’s that, and…” said Thomas, pausing to consider his words, “I suppose it’s because I’m protective of you. I’d feel like I’m taking advantage and I don’t want to do anything to hurt you.”
“What makes you think you’d do something to hurt me? You’ve only ever been kind to me,” said Andy earnestly, eyes shining. “I’d not do anything to hurt you, either, Thomas. Lord knows you’ve had enough of people treating you poorly.”
Thomas felt his throat tighten. “It’s early yet. You could still go chat up one of those good-looking young lads at the bar. Don’t think you have to settle for a grouchy old man like me.”
Andy’s eyebrow’s shot up, his expression one of incredulity. “First off, you’re not that much older than me. Secondly, when I met you, I thought you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen. And I like being around you, ‘cause you’re smart and interesting and funny. Being with you isn’t settling, not to me.”
Thomas knew his lingering reservation must have shown on his face, because Andy said, “Listen, Thomas, I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m only asking for one night, but I’ll drop it if you truly don’t want to.”
“Alright, then,” said Thomas, surprising both himself and Andy with his decision. “Only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Then let’s go home.”
With that, Andy followed Thomas out into the night.