Brimsley & Reynolds

6

Princess Charlotte was to arrive in five days and the whole Palace was in preparation for the arrival of the new queen. Servants streamed up and down the queen's quarters which made it difficult for brimsley to make it from his room to the dining room. He could not lie, he was overcome with excitement when he thought about meeting Princess Charlotte, he was going to be able to do his job.

He had just finished breaking his fast and was to help with the preparations for the arrival of the new queen. Making his way down the main Palace stairs he saw a glimpse of a blue waistcoat. Without a second thought, he rushed his way over to him.

Having just finished his morning meal, Brimsley's mind was overflowing with thoughts of the preparations for the arrival of the new queen. The palace was filled with anticipation to meet its new queen. With a sense of long-awaited purpose, Brimsley descended the main staircase of Buckingham Palace. As he made his way down the steps, his eyes caught a glimpse of the vibrant blue waistcoat descending the palace staircase in front of him.

Without a second thought, a surge of adrenaline propelled Brimsley forward, his heart racing in his chest. Instinctively, he knew that the man who wore that waistcoat was unmistakably Reynolds. "It has been a while, has it not," Brimsley called out to Reynolds as he reached the bottom of the staircase.

Reynolds turned around, face first filled with surprise but then eased into calmness, "Brimsley-"

"Please," Brimsley guested his hand to the hallway beside the staircase, "do run away if you must."

"That is not what I have been doing."

"Has it not," Brimsley raised his eyebrows, "because I distinctly remember you sprinting away from me in the passageways on the lower level."

"There-" he paused, "I-," he tried to catch his words, "there has been a lot of business to attend to."

"I am sure there has been," Brimsley nodded.

"However, I am not at liberty to explain it."

Brimsley rolled his eyes, "of course, I understand. Forgive me for worrying." Brimsley trotted off up the stairs without a look back at Reynolds.

"Brimsley, please," Reynolds begged but Brimsley was tired of the excuses.

Throughout the rest of the day, Brimsley had a constant feeling of anger coursing through his body. He tried to think of reasons for why he had been so distant but there was nothing that made sense. He knew now he would not get his answer which only frustrated him more. What was the point of talking or even thinking about Reynolds anymore, he pondered, was everything that happened between him and Reynolds a mistake? He did not want to think about that last question. Deep down he knew that he was madly in love with him.

It was extremely difficult for Brimsley to relax with all of the hustling happening throughout the palace, especially where the queen would stay. He knew that most of them would not stay in this palace but most likely permanently reside in another palace that belonged to the queen. It seemed as though the whole of England was scurrying around, excited to meet their new queen.

After what seemed to be the busiest day of Brimsley's life so far, it was finally time to relax and rest for the night. He had been looking forward to this all day so he slipped his sleeping wear on and crawled into the safety of his pristine white sheets. He nestled his head into his pillow, comforted by the silence and the darkness. He felt calm, a feeling he had not felt in quite some time. However, a knock at the door rudely disturbed his quietness. He groaned and lit a few candles in his room.

The knocking seemed to be urgent and continuous. He opened his door to find Reynolds, fully dressed in his regular attire and looking dashing. "May I come in?" he asked.

Brimsley looked past his shoulder into the darkness revealing most of the other servants were asleep. He gestured Reynolds in and shut the door behind him. "What is it?"

"Brimsley, I understand that you are cross with me," Reynolds started, "but there has been an incident with the king."

Brimsley scoffed, "That was quite obvious."

"But he is well now," Reynolds took a deep breath, "I am sorry, Brimsley. It is just I am not allowed to say."

"Right," Brimsley shook his head.

"The King made himself clear that he did not want a soul to know."

"You did not need to avoid me. You did not need to yell at me."

"Yes," Reynolds sighed, "I apologise."

"Yes?" Brimsley's dark eyes widened, "that is all you have to say?"

"Brimsley-" He was cut off.

"I only wanted an explanation, Reynolds! Is that too much to ask for?" He tried his hardest not to raise his voice.

He looked into Brimsley's chestnut eyes, "Please, do not hate me."

"Hate you?" Brimsley asked, surprised, "Reynolds, I could never hate you," his frown eased, "You are all I want to be with, all the time." He stepped closer to Reynolds. "Reynolds, I love you." Brimsley had never made himself so vulnerable but if he was to be vulnerable with anyone, it would be Reynolds.

Reynolds smiled, tips of his mouth spreading across his face. He had not expected Brimsley to express himself as he just had. Undoubtedly, Reynolds felt the same.

They reached out to each other, Reynolds' arms wrapped around Brimsley's neck and Brimsley's wrapped around Reynolds. Pulling each other in, they enjoyed this long-awaited moment of intimacy to share. Brimsley reached his hand into Reynolds' hair feeling his fingers through the strands of gold, bringing him close. Reynolds felt his way down Brimsley's linen shirt drawing him near.

This night they had envisioned for the past week, craving each other to be close, loving each other, needing each other.

Time seemed to slow, as it always did at moments like these, allowing Brimsley and Reynolds to share a long-awaited moment of intimacy. Reynolds, his eyes shimmering with affection, extended his arms around Brimsley's neck. In response, Brimsley's arms encircled Reynolds, drawing him closer. Their bodies against each other, finding comfort in the closeness they had yearned for. Brimsley's fingers wove through Reynolds' silky golden hair as he drew him nearer. Reynolds traced a path down Brimsley's linen sleep shirt that covered his back, his fingertips gliding along the fabric.

In this hallowed moment, the world around them faded into insignificance, only by the intensity of their connection shining through. Every touch, every breath shared between them was what they had craved for the last week. It was a night they had yearned for, their dreams intertwined with the desire to be close, to love, and to need each other.

Time stood still as their lips met with an explosion of warmth and passion. That night they had dreamed of for too long of a time. They had desired it so, eager to be with each other. And so they did, together in the safety of night.