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It turns out that, for all the fuss that was made about it, this dance is actually very boring.
This is only just barely a surprise; any event that requires chaperones is an event that Lindsay generally doesn't look forward to. But it is true. Lindsay has had maybe a bit too much to drink, by now — he's accustomed to Bacchanal rites; the feeling is hardly unfamiliar — and successfully slipped away from his chaperone, and yet it is still boring.
"Good boy."
Ashley very deliberately bites where Lindsay's jawline meets his throat. If it bruises, anyone would be able to see.
"Ah —" and he can't cling, not with the ropes, but he does the best he can, presses his entire body up into Ashley.
Ashley takes it as encouragement, bites harder in the same place. There's going to be a mark.
He starts to lazily jerk Lindsay off.
He — Lindsay's taken he's claimed he's Ashley's boy and everyone will be able to see and right now that's the best thing he can think of — he'd say thank you but the words aren't, really, forming —
"Good boy," he says, "you're so good for me, you really want to finish, don't you?"
He punctuates his words with bites all over Lindsay's neck.
He sobs — his hips jerk involuntarily and he's so so beautiful, his cheeks and chest and shoulders flushed and bruises starting to form on his neck —
Ashley gets back between his legs, digs his fingers into the bruises on his thighs, and sucks him again.
Lindsay is — not quiet. He's trembling; he shakes when he approaches the edge —
Ashley keeps sucking until Lindsay reaches the point of no return and then pulls away to watch him finish untouched.
He finishes, shaking — he's still hard — he's crying, very quietly.
Ashley wraps his arms around Lindsay. "Good boy," he says, "you were very good."
Ashley strokes his hair and kisses his forehead and holds him until he stops shaking.
That might take a while.
Eventually, though, he goes soft and still in Ashley's arms.
Ashley kisses him. "You should go home," he says. His voice is gentle. "You may borrow my carriage."
He shakes his head, pulls at the ropes. "Easier to sneak in without one." Then, quieter: "Thank you. Sir."
Ashley unties him. "It would be nicer to keep you overnight," he says, "but needs must."
"I'd love to stay," a little wistful. "But needs must." He kisses Ashley's cheek and then stands to get himself dressed, puts his hair back up.
Maybe three or four last kisses, and then he has to leave, no, really.
Lindsay keeps his window open for exactly this eventuality; he's good at getting into the house unseen. He could finish properly, now; he doesn't.
He has the sweetest dreams that night.
In the morning his parents want to know where he went off to without his chaperone for the entire evening and why there was a rumor that he was spotted with Captain Burton and why he's wearing a scarf around his neck.
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