For kiltsandlollies: Vintage
Title: Vintage
Recipient: kiltsandlollies
Author: msilverstar
Pairing: Dom/Ian with a little Elijah push
Rating: light R
Summary: Regency Romance AU, old and young finding common ground.
Pre-reveal Notes: I suspect that there are anachronisms and mistakes: if you notice them, please do leave fb so I can fix them.
Post-reveal Notes: Many thanks for the reassuring beta by the lovely darkrosetiger
Historical Notes: Ian was born in 1750, so he's 60 at the time of this story, and lived through a hell of a lot. Including the premiere of the controversial waltz, wherein the partners actually touch through the whole thing.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
The wine was superb, very rare for a ball, but then, the chit's old uncle had a legendary cellar. The evening was otherwise terribly out-dated, with country dances (as though the waltz was the least unseemly in these days), and half the men were in wigs.
Dominic and Elijah, younger sons and wastrels both, who worshiped every word from Beau Brummel and his friend Sir Lumley St. George Skeffington, felt oddly outfaced by the lavishness of an elder age. Their elegant clothes, though all the rage, paled beside the old-fashioned bright colors and rich fabrics, embroidered with gold. Perhaps there was something to the stories about the times of old King George, about racing and gambling and Hellfire Clubs.
They felt the more foolish, fumbling through the cotillian with Elijah's sister and a number of other girls of their acquaintance, when the old men trod the figures perfectly. Duties fulfilled for the moment, Dominic pulled his friend aside to an empty hall, there to enjoy the wine, which did seem to improve with age. Wine giving them courage, they essayed a waltz galop, each leading for a turn and turnabout, laughing at its ease compared with the country dances, though a bit of the wine poured out during a particularly violent change of direction.
"Huzzah," came a dry voice: Dominic and Elijah turned round at once. It was their host, dressed entirely in the old manner in resplendent blue velvet with gold embroidery and shoe buckles. The boys hurried to make their bows to Sir Ian and begin to apologize for their behavior when Sir Ian waved them off. "I do not require toadying. But I must command you to avoid that dance where my bacon-brained niece might see it. Her mother forbids her to even watch a waltz."
"No, Sir," they replied obediently, as a footman came to wipe the spill and relieve them of the bottle.
"Now, you shall both dance the scotch reel with young ladies who have not yet been asked to stand up," Sir Ian told them, and shepherded them back to the ballroom.
Perhaps the weight of his hand on Dominic's shoulder was an illusion, also the lingering touch on the back of Dominic's neck as he sent them both forward, Elijah before Dominic. Then thought vanished in the noise and crush of the hall.
~~
Later, as they walked back to their rooms, Dominic and Elijah laughed a bit nervously as they remembered their antics. They could have been thoroughly thrashed by Sir Ian for their behavior, and no-one would have counted him wrong.
Elijah giggled, "What an old woman he is! He should hang up those terrible old-fashioned shoes and settle down with one of the widows. Do you know he's never married? The rumor, the on dit is that family estate is entailed, but he has rents from London properties; he's filthy rich."
Dominic objected, feeling surprisingly fierce in defense of their erstwhile host, "He's not that old, he's a delightful flirt, and I'm sure he was a quite the devil in his time."
"He's a dried-up old fig," Elijah said, "nothing like Mr. Brummel or the Corinthians."
On his high ropes, Dominic declared, "He's not at all dried up, simply because he doesn't follow the current fashion. He'd look a fool if he did, and you know it."
Elijah looked near to arguing, then checked himself, because he knew. Sir Ian would be mutton dressed as lamb in the modern style, and all Society would laugh at him. But Elijah wouldn't leave it at that. "I'll wager," he said, "that he's too set in his ways to learn anything new. My bay horse pledged against your black, that you can't convince him to... waltz. Show me Sir Ian waltzing with anyone, maid or dowager, and I'll declare him a modern Lord Barrymore."
"Done," Dominic said, not knowing in the least how he was to accomplish this task, "you'll see, he's not a rake like that fellow, that Hellgate Barrymore, but he's a fine figure of a man."
Clasping hands, the young men agreed, and walked happily to their accommodations.
~~
Dominic, having contrived an invitation to tea with Sir Ian, still had not a clue how to win his wager with Elijah. He'd asked and been told about seeing David Garrick on stage, though not Nell Gwyn, as apparently she'd been dead longer than he'd thought, and also Dictionary Johnson, who was, surprisingly, not dead when Sir Ian met him. He's heard how Sir Ian quite liked mad old King George and barely tolerates the Prince, which is honestly something Dominic would have preferred not to know. He heard about Paris under the Ancien Regime, the Terror, and the rise of Napoleon, he's heard of travels through the Alps and cross the Dardanelles. It was like grasping hold of a whirling dervish and being swept around until dizzy. Dominic was spellbound by the tales, and moreso by Ian's telling of them.
By then, it was far past teatime and a light supper (brought by a solemn manservant), and well into an excellent Madeira. Dominic, enchanted, was willing to swear nearly anything to be accepted into Sir Ian's circle.
"Is there nothing," Dominic finally asked, "about the present-day that pleases you? No great battles or symphonies? nothing form exploration of the South Seas to Byron's poetry?
There was a silence, as Ian smiled gently at Dominic, and held out his hand. "Teach me, dear boy" he said, "you must bring the new world to me, as I have clearly failed to go to it."
Dominic rose to meet Ian and take his hand, but he could not bear to loom, so knelt before him, clasping the hand in both of his own. "Might we," he said, "perhaps we could teach each other?"
Ian drew Dominic close, until they could feel the heat from each other's body. "I should be honored," Ian murmured, as he moved forward, and then chuckled as Dominic, impetuous, rushed to meet his lips. But Ian did not pull away, he moved his hand behind Dominic's head and kissed him, ravished him, rather, until both were breathless.
They moved together, Ian leading and Dominic following, laughing at the unfamiliar fastenings of their clothes as they repaired to Ian's bedroom and thence to his generous bed. Dominic, only having had a few fumbled assignations with his own sex, and no interest in the other, moved sans grace but with a great deal of passion. He quickly began to rub against Ian, too eager to await any formal handling.
With tender hands, Ian laid Dominic bare before him, feasting his eyes on Dominic's naked form and evident arousal.
"Please, sir," Dominic said, "I yearn for your touch, I crave it, I die for it." He reached for Ian's hands and brought them to his chest, wriggling a bit to press his member against Ian's flesh.
"Tut," said Ian, not entirely displeased at Dominic's poetic speech, tracing Dominic's torso from throat to groin. But simply as his fingers approached, Dominic threw back his head and groaned, his member pulsing as he spent himself. Ian bent forward to hold Dominic, caress his brow and feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
When Dominic came to his sense, he lifted his face to accept blame for his untimely climax, only to find Ian, again, smiling down at him.
"Now," Ian said, bringing Dominic's hand to his mouth, "now you shall learn from an old man."
~~
Just as Elijah was about to leave for London, he received a surprising missive. He followed the directions enclosed and was received as expected at Sir Ian's house. The manservant conducted him to the ballroom, where he found a solitary violinist, playing a familiar tune. And there, in nothing but shirts and breeches, he saw Dominic and Sir Ian, waltzing.
***
Recipient: kiltsandlollies
Author: msilverstar
Pairing: Dom/Ian with a little Elijah push
Rating: light R
Summary: Regency Romance AU, old and young finding common ground.
Pre-reveal Notes: I suspect that there are anachronisms and mistakes: if you notice them, please do leave fb so I can fix them.
Post-reveal Notes: Many thanks for the reassuring beta by the lovely darkrosetiger
Historical Notes: Ian was born in 1750, so he's 60 at the time of this story, and lived through a hell of a lot. Including the premiere of the controversial waltz, wherein the partners actually touch through the whole thing.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
The wine was superb, very rare for a ball, but then, the chit's old uncle had a legendary cellar. The evening was otherwise terribly out-dated, with country dances (as though the waltz was the least unseemly in these days), and half the men were in wigs.
Dominic and Elijah, younger sons and wastrels both, who worshiped every word from Beau Brummel and his friend Sir Lumley St. George Skeffington, felt oddly outfaced by the lavishness of an elder age. Their elegant clothes, though all the rage, paled beside the old-fashioned bright colors and rich fabrics, embroidered with gold. Perhaps there was something to the stories about the times of old King George, about racing and gambling and Hellfire Clubs.
They felt the more foolish, fumbling through the cotillian with Elijah's sister and a number of other girls of their acquaintance, when the old men trod the figures perfectly. Duties fulfilled for the moment, Dominic pulled his friend aside to an empty hall, there to enjoy the wine, which did seem to improve with age. Wine giving them courage, they essayed a waltz galop, each leading for a turn and turnabout, laughing at its ease compared with the country dances, though a bit of the wine poured out during a particularly violent change of direction.
"Huzzah," came a dry voice: Dominic and Elijah turned round at once. It was their host, dressed entirely in the old manner in resplendent blue velvet with gold embroidery and shoe buckles. The boys hurried to make their bows to Sir Ian and begin to apologize for their behavior when Sir Ian waved them off. "I do not require toadying. But I must command you to avoid that dance where my bacon-brained niece might see it. Her mother forbids her to even watch a waltz."
"No, Sir," they replied obediently, as a footman came to wipe the spill and relieve them of the bottle.
"Now, you shall both dance the scotch reel with young ladies who have not yet been asked to stand up," Sir Ian told them, and shepherded them back to the ballroom.
Perhaps the weight of his hand on Dominic's shoulder was an illusion, also the lingering touch on the back of Dominic's neck as he sent them both forward, Elijah before Dominic. Then thought vanished in the noise and crush of the hall.
~~
Later, as they walked back to their rooms, Dominic and Elijah laughed a bit nervously as they remembered their antics. They could have been thoroughly thrashed by Sir Ian for their behavior, and no-one would have counted him wrong.
Elijah giggled, "What an old woman he is! He should hang up those terrible old-fashioned shoes and settle down with one of the widows. Do you know he's never married? The rumor, the on dit is that family estate is entailed, but he has rents from London properties; he's filthy rich."
Dominic objected, feeling surprisingly fierce in defense of their erstwhile host, "He's not that old, he's a delightful flirt, and I'm sure he was a quite the devil in his time."
"He's a dried-up old fig," Elijah said, "nothing like Mr. Brummel or the Corinthians."
On his high ropes, Dominic declared, "He's not at all dried up, simply because he doesn't follow the current fashion. He'd look a fool if he did, and you know it."
Elijah looked near to arguing, then checked himself, because he knew. Sir Ian would be mutton dressed as lamb in the modern style, and all Society would laugh at him. But Elijah wouldn't leave it at that. "I'll wager," he said, "that he's too set in his ways to learn anything new. My bay horse pledged against your black, that you can't convince him to... waltz. Show me Sir Ian waltzing with anyone, maid or dowager, and I'll declare him a modern Lord Barrymore."
"Done," Dominic said, not knowing in the least how he was to accomplish this task, "you'll see, he's not a rake like that fellow, that Hellgate Barrymore, but he's a fine figure of a man."
Clasping hands, the young men agreed, and walked happily to their accommodations.
~~
Dominic, having contrived an invitation to tea with Sir Ian, still had not a clue how to win his wager with Elijah. He'd asked and been told about seeing David Garrick on stage, though not Nell Gwyn, as apparently she'd been dead longer than he'd thought, and also Dictionary Johnson, who was, surprisingly, not dead when Sir Ian met him. He's heard how Sir Ian quite liked mad old King George and barely tolerates the Prince, which is honestly something Dominic would have preferred not to know. He heard about Paris under the Ancien Regime, the Terror, and the rise of Napoleon, he's heard of travels through the Alps and cross the Dardanelles. It was like grasping hold of a whirling dervish and being swept around until dizzy. Dominic was spellbound by the tales, and moreso by Ian's telling of them.
By then, it was far past teatime and a light supper (brought by a solemn manservant), and well into an excellent Madeira. Dominic, enchanted, was willing to swear nearly anything to be accepted into Sir Ian's circle.
"Is there nothing," Dominic finally asked, "about the present-day that pleases you? No great battles or symphonies? nothing form exploration of the South Seas to Byron's poetry?
There was a silence, as Ian smiled gently at Dominic, and held out his hand. "Teach me, dear boy" he said, "you must bring the new world to me, as I have clearly failed to go to it."
Dominic rose to meet Ian and take his hand, but he could not bear to loom, so knelt before him, clasping the hand in both of his own. "Might we," he said, "perhaps we could teach each other?"
Ian drew Dominic close, until they could feel the heat from each other's body. "I should be honored," Ian murmured, as he moved forward, and then chuckled as Dominic, impetuous, rushed to meet his lips. But Ian did not pull away, he moved his hand behind Dominic's head and kissed him, ravished him, rather, until both were breathless.
They moved together, Ian leading and Dominic following, laughing at the unfamiliar fastenings of their clothes as they repaired to Ian's bedroom and thence to his generous bed. Dominic, only having had a few fumbled assignations with his own sex, and no interest in the other, moved sans grace but with a great deal of passion. He quickly began to rub against Ian, too eager to await any formal handling.
With tender hands, Ian laid Dominic bare before him, feasting his eyes on Dominic's naked form and evident arousal.
"Please, sir," Dominic said, "I yearn for your touch, I crave it, I die for it." He reached for Ian's hands and brought them to his chest, wriggling a bit to press his member against Ian's flesh.
"Tut," said Ian, not entirely displeased at Dominic's poetic speech, tracing Dominic's torso from throat to groin. But simply as his fingers approached, Dominic threw back his head and groaned, his member pulsing as he spent himself. Ian bent forward to hold Dominic, caress his brow and feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
When Dominic came to his sense, he lifted his face to accept blame for his untimely climax, only to find Ian, again, smiling down at him.
"Now," Ian said, bringing Dominic's hand to his mouth, "now you shall learn from an old man."
~~
Just as Elijah was about to leave for London, he received a surprising missive. He followed the directions enclosed and was received as expected at Sir Ian's house. The manservant conducted him to the ballroom, where he found a solitary violinist, playing a familiar tune. And there, in nothing but shirts and breeches, he saw Dominic and Sir Ian, waltzing.
***