Work Text:
It goes like this:
Henry Thomas Dundas Le Vesconte arrives at a ball— some admiralty celebration, there had been a few promotions recently— Jas by his side. They’re both done up to the nines; full dress. His hair is utterly perfect.
They go inside. Officers are everywhere, wine is flowing, Dundy is pretty sure he spots a tray of syllabubs as well.
They make their way through the crowd. As usual, Dundy sticks by James, laughs in all the right places, and prompts a new story when conversation lulls. It was their system, and it always worked.
Of course, eventually Dundy decides to pull off, to get a drink and maybe a snack. James could handle himself, and then later when James needed a break, Dundy would step in.
So he gets that drink, sips it slow.
Then:
Dundy locks eyes with a black haired man. His mutton chops are maybe a bit too much, but that wasn’t exactly something Dundy could judge. The man’s expression though. Nothing but intense, prolonged eye contact.
Dundy’s into it.
He quirks his brow.
The guy seems slightly startled, but he doesn’t hesitate long, already approaching with a sexy, confident stride.
Interesting.
It goes like this:
Dundy sips his wine, smirking behind the glass as the man approaches. When he arrives, he stands before Dundy, his face stern and exacting. Then, he jerks his head to the hall, and what is Dundy to do, other than put his drink down and nod?
The man hadn’t even spoken. Hadn’t asked if Dundy was interested, or even deigned to introduce himself. In fact, he’d immediately begun moving— like he knew Dundy would follow— and so he was clearly the sort of man who knew what he wanted. The kind of man who would get what he wanted.
Very interesting.
Hot.
Dundy follows, and as he leaves he makes eye contact with James, who raises his champagne: a subtle congratulation. Dundy grins back.
The mystery man leads him down a hall.
Oh yes; real privacy.
What was this even going to be? Judging on the man’s stride, it was going to be intense. Dundy wondered if maybe he’d be the sort of man who’d rough him up a bit.
God, it had been ages. That would be so hot.
Another hall.
One more.
Dundy glances around as they continue to move further and further away from the ball. The man wanted more than privacy; he was taking Dundy somewhere nigh-on remote. Was he loud in bed or something? Not a deal breaker, Dundy supposes.
It goes like this:
The duo reach a dead end and a coat closet.
The man stutters out that his name is Ned Little.
Ned Little proceeds to yank open the closet door, step inside, and then drag Dundy in behind him. His sailor’s hands grab at Dundy by the front of his uniform, the force choking at him before he’s cognisant enough to move with it.
Dundy allows this, because Dundy’s dick is officially in charge, and it’s curious to see what might happen next. He smirks in the darkness; it would have been better and less cramped if Ned had locked them in a study or something, but whatever.
A dark closet? No lock? A ball mere steps away?
Oh yes.
This was going to be hot.
It goes like this:
Ned Little does not put Dundy down onto his knees. That’s a shame, really, because when he pulls his prick out a moment later, Dundy can feel that the man is big enough to have some fun with.
Ned then shoves his hand right down Dundy’s pants.
As he leans in closer, Dundy backs up and hits the wall with a gasp. The barest indication of Ned’s eyes glinting in the light shoots right down his spine, and his hands instinctively latch onto the other man’s waist.
On impulse, Dundy then leans in to kiss him, and accidentally knocks his head into Ned’s. The darkness makes him misjudge the distance, which was a bit embarrassing given his usual prowess.
It’s okay though, because Ned gets the message and grabs Dundy’s face with his free hand to pull him in as he likes. Dundy surrenders to the direction, and when dry lips touch his own, he opens his mouth without prompting.
Ned’s tongue is hesitant at first, but not for long. Dundy squeaks a bit in surprise when the man jams in without warning, but as he does, Dundy grabs his head and pulls him in closer.
Now they were getting somewhere.
Oh yes.
Ned’s hand on his prick begins to move, and Dundy laughs in his mouth at the novelty. While quickies were nothing new to him, there is something deliciously forceful and uncoordinated about Ned Littles movements, and Dundy finds himself utterly captivated.
He pulls back, and his ego goes through the roof as he feels Ned’s head follow him like he can’t get enough. Which. Well obviously. But it still feels fantastic, being wanted so.
Dundy did still have to push him back a little bit, though, to catch his breath and wipe his mouth. “You can pull my hair if you want,” he says, “While I handle that for you.”
‘That’ being his prick, obviously.
Ned makes some sort of noise Dundy can’t interpret, but he takes it as a good thing because suddenly two hands are fisting into his hair and dragging him back into a kiss. He stumbles forward a bit as Ned steps back, but smiles again as Ned wrenches his head down to meet his mouth properly.
Hot.
Hot hot hot.
Dundy wastes no time, immediately divesting himself of his uniform jacket. He snakes an arm around Ned’s waist, and uses the other to flip the button of his pants, loosening them. As he does it, he surges forward, wondering how Ned might react if Dundy takes his control away.
The answer comes quickly, and it’s with force, thank God. One of the hands in his hair yanks him back just so, just enough that Ned steps forward again to crowd him up against the wall.
Dundy giggles against his mouth and drops the arm that had been around his waist. He holds it up in playful surrender, momentarily forgetting that neither of them could really see it.
He course corrects immediately, using what little of Ned’s silhouette he could see to rest his hand on the man’s face, perhaps softer than such an encounter demanded. Ned didn’t shove him off though, or even push him back really, so Dundy took that as his cue.
Using his other hand, he finally grabs Ned and rubs at him with his thumb in a way he knew made men go crazy.
Ned groans into his mouth immediately, the fist in Dundy’s hair tightening to the point of pain. The obvious need Ned exudes goes right to Dundy’s dick, and he smiles again. He lets himself sink into the moment, and feels some combination of extraordinary vanity at the way the man had wanted him from the moment their eyes locked, and a certain fuzzy-headedness as he fell into a rhythm with Ned; pumping his fist as the man rocked into him and kissed him breathless again and again and again.
At some point Dundy drops the hand from Ned’s face, as Ned uses one of his own to press it against the wall with surprising gentleness. Dundy wonders if he lets his legs go slack, would Ned’s hands alone be able to keep him standing?
Dangerous thought, as he immediately felt one of his knees break stance. To hide the movement, he pushes himself forwards, wrenching his hand out of Ned’s grip and pumps at him harder, breaking whatever softness had begun to arise in the closet.
Ned, quite considerately, finally lets the hand in his hair fall in order to yank at Dundy’s pants. He intuitively matches Dundy’s intensity and shucks them low on his ass to grab at him.
Dundy smiles into his mouth again at the absurdity.
Ned was like that?
Well, whatever. The man was too confident and sexy for Dundy to even care.
Ned yanks at him, the move so shocking that Dundy hears himself squeak in a rather undignified manner. To soothe his own ego, he uses his free hand to smooth Ned’s hair back and anchor himself by gripping the back of his neck.
Ned leans in and nudges at his cheek, clearly seeking Dundy’s mouth. Dundy lets him find it, and bites playfully at his lip when he does.
It goes like this:
Dundy finishes Ned off before he comes himself. Immediately after spending, Ned gasps and makes a sound high in the back of his throat, and when he returns to reality (because of course Dundy blew his mind. Maybe next time— later that night, perhaps?— Ned would let him blow him for real) he immediately pushes Dundy off him.
He frowns and tries to make eye contact in the dark, but before he can comment on how rude it is to leave a partner to finish on his own, Ned’s back on him, spinning him around and shoving him flush against the closet door; hard enough that the sound surely echos down the hall.
As Dundy lets out a startled gasp (that quickly runs the line of turning into a moan), Ned manipulates his arms and pins them at his back, crossing Dundy’s wrists.
Oh.
Oh yes. Oh YES.
The hairs on his neck stand up as suddenly there’s warm breath at the shell of his ear and kiss-drunk lips making their way down his shoulders. His hands clench where Ned holds them: Dundy could break the grip easily, but he so profoundly does not want to.
Instead, as Ned’s other hand travels back across his thigh, and Dundy gasps with delight; pushing himself up slightly; just enough so that he’s kept in place more by Ned’s chest than his own weight on the door.
Ned squeezes his wrists as he continues to kiss and suck bruises into his neck, and Dundy at no point tries to stop him. No, instead the fuzziness threatens its return as he relaxes into the man’s strong embrace, as he feels Ned’s hand finally reach all the way around and touch him again.
He feels more than hears as he lets out a breathy giggle, head against Ned’s shoulders, his body electric in a way it hadn’t been earlier in the encounter. As hot as the entire thing had been, this was easily the highlight of the night (so far).
Dundy sighs and lets himself get caught up in the experience. In the way his neck ached having been turned oddly as he was pressed to the door. In the way Ned let him lean back without giving him total control of the movement. In the feeling of the strong hand which still gripped his wrists. The way his body had been subtly manipulated to be held securely against Ned’s chest.
And then he’s coming. Quietly, like always, but he’s still shaking fully as it happens. He breaks Ned’s grip, finally, and uses his body weight to fall back into the man. They stumble, but Ned holds him. Lets Dundy relax against his shoulder, lets him catch his breath.
It goes like this:
After everything was said and done, they both awkwardly try to put themselves together again. Dundy has to grope around in the dark for his uniform jacket, and prays it isn’t too rumpled. Beside him, he hears fabric rustle as Ned buttons himself up and presumably fixes his hair.
The thought makes Dundy want to laugh again. If anyone needs their hair fixed, it’s Dundy, not Ned Little.
God, he’d be thinking about those hands for a while.
When Dundy finally opens the door, he stretches his hands out and does a cute little spin. “Well?” he asks.
Ned just blinks at him, the post orgasmic headspace clearly still affecting him. “What?”
Dundy puts his hands on his hips and frowns playfully. “Do I pass muster,” he eyes the man’s uniform, “Lieutenant Little?”
Ned just blinks again and Dundy rolls his eyes.
“If we walk back into that ballroom, is it going to be terribly obvious what just happened?”
“Oh,” Ned stutters out, his eyes skittering away quite uncharacteristically, “No, you look fine— good. You look good.”
Dundy beams. “How kind of you to say,” he eyes him carefully, “You know, I came here with James, but it isn’t like we usually leave together.”
“Okay.”
Dundy runs two fingers through his curls, fixing them just so in a way he didn’t need a mirror to see. “I think I’ll say my goodbyes; let James know I’m going home alone.”
Ned nods. “I see.”
“I’ll have to take the carriage, I think. It seats two.”
Ned just looks at him. Dundy tries not to be hypnotised by those beautiful eyes.
He pulls himself together and smirks at him. “I’d leave you my calling card, but I haven’t brought any,” he shrugs lightly and then spouts off his address before patting Ned’s cheek, electing to lay out the innuendo as thick as possible, “Our housekeeper is called Molly, by the way.”
“Okay?”
“We’re on the same page, then?”
“We are.”
Dundy closes his eyes and nods to himself. Message received.
When he looks back at Ned, the man is staring at him with that intense gaze of his. Dundy winks, bows with a flourish, and turns around.
“Ta ta,” he says behind his shoulder, “it’s been so very fun.”
Ned doesn’t reply, but that’s all right. The poor man was still heavy on his feet, Dundy easily parsed that out from the way he’d stumbled out of the closet. How charming, that Ned was so forward until he wasn’t.
He straightens his jacket one more time as he arrives back to the vicinity of the ball. He then renters the fray and strides confidently back towards James. James, who is grinning at him with utter delight. Dundy playfully tips an imaginary hat.
“Dundy!” his friend beams, holding up a glass of champagne, “I was just wondering where you were.”
By some miracle, James has managed to escape the crowd, which allows Dundy to smirk back with his teeth, equally smug. “I’ll need the rooms tonight, Jas.”
James’s eye go wide. “He was good?”
“Fantastic.”
“You’re taking him home?”
Dundy nods. “Oh yes.”
James slaps him on the shoulder. “Point him out to me. I didn’t see him very well.”
Dundy snorts, but scans the room for Ned.
And then he keeps scanning.
He frowns and cocks his head. “Hm. I don’t see him.”
James raises an eyebrow. “Is he still down whichever hall you two were having fun in?”
Dundy snorts. “Possibly, but I don’t think so,” he gasps, “Jas, I offered our carriage. Do you think he might be…?”
James looks very, very excited by the implication. “Maybe. How did he approach you.”
“Boldly.”
“He might.”
Dundy looks away, failing to hide a grin. James was going to be so insufferable tomorrow when he finally asks for details. Because there are going to be details. Dundy really wants to see what happens to Ned Little’s face when someone fucks his brains out.
Well.
With that thought in mind, he turns back to James. “Say my goodbyes for me?”
“You’re lucky that you’re charming,” James smiles as he shoos him away.
It goes like this:
Henry Thomas Dundas Le Vesconte walks out to his carriage with characteristic swagger. He enters, but Ned Little isn’t there.
He waits for a few minutes, hoping that the other man might arrive soon. He’d seemed willing enough back in the hallway.
When Ned doesn’t arrive, Dundy knocks on the carriage window, and orders the driver to take him home. Perhaps Ned had gone ahead. Dundy had certainly spent enough time back at the ball; even as he left he was pulled into a conversation or two.
As he leans back in the carriage seat, he lets himself ponder further on the possibility. It’s a very compelling scenario, that Ned might meet Dundy at the door of his own home, that he might have made a space for himself in Dundy’s territory. It was a silly thought, but it wasn’t out of the question given how Ned had propositioned him.
Dundy lets himself exaggerate an entire second encounter, and by the time he exits the carriage and enters the building, he’s already at half mast once more. Embarrassing, but only until he can whisper every filthy thought in his head to the man that had so easily manhandled him in that closet.
God, Ned had been so. Very. Hot.
It goes like this:
Dundy looks around the house. No lights had been on when he arrived, but that wasn’t entirely unexpected. When he peeks around the receiving room, there’s no evidence that anyone had been there.
Was he—?
Dundy feels a blush go up his cheeks as he practically skips down to the bedroom. What could be hotter than a man fully in control of his space, ready to take him apart before Dundy even arrives?
Ned Little, apparently. Probably. Presuming he did go ahead, and that Dundy hadn’t accidentally left him back at the ball.
No matter. Ned had gotten there somehow, he could easily leave the same way.
It goes like this:
Dundy enters his empty bedroom. Dundy takes off his clothes at his own leisure, changes into something comfortable. He then lies on the bed idly, and decides to wait.
He’d been clear enough that he wanted to continue what Ned had begun, and he’d obviously fucked him a bit stupid, judging on how they parted. But Ned would show up. Inevitably.
Dundy would simply lay around until he does. Maybe prop a leg up, pretend like Ned had stumbled upon him reading. That could be a wonderful start to the night, to act like he’d been caught unawares by a big, handsome sailor with strong hands.
Captivated by his own imaginings, Dundy rolls over to the other side of the bed to grope for the book James had left on the bedside table; Poe’s Fall of the House of Usher. Not the sexiest read, but it would do.
Ned Little never does arrive.