Simon and the Christmas Spirit by Summer Devon

Author:Summer Devon [Devon, Summer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay historical, holiday romance, christmas romance, opposites attract, gay heroes, lgbt romance, victorian romance, 1800s romance, class barrier romance
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

“What have you done? What were you thinking?” Will berated Christopher as they walked from the gentlemen’s club to home. It was too late for a street car, so they relied on their own legs to carry them all the way to their own run-down neighborhood. “And why the hell do I always give in to your plans?” he added.

“Ah, I feel the need to act, and to go forth and conquer.” Christopher stepped into a rut hidden in the shadows and got his foot doused in rainwater. He cursed and shook it.

“And look how well that’s turned out for you in the past,” Will muttered.

Christopher held up a hand. “Don’t start going on about the Russian again.”

“My point is, did you stop to think how your inclination might harm you or affect me? What if you’d been wrong about Mr. Harris, and he complained to the management that you tried to have it on with him? Or what if some other gent had seen the pair of you go in or out of that room? Or, God forbid, heard you making noise? You put yourself in danger too often, without a thought in your foolish head.”

Christopher had had enough scolding, considering he was already miserable from his wet foot and the disappointing end to his evening. Of course he’d been silly to think a gentleman like Simon would care to socialize beyond the bedroom. He didn’t know why he’d made the offer, except that Simon seemed entirely downhearted and lonely. And, if he was being honest, because he quite liked the man and wanted to see more of him.

“If you land yourself in prison someday, I don’t think Mum would be able to bear it,” Will droned on. “Or something even worse could happen. You’ve heard about the man who got beaten to death by a mob for being too obvious in public with his lover.”

“Enough, Woolly!” Christopher used the nickname that used to drive Will mad when they were younger, a small jab about his woolgathering. “I understand, my boy. I ought to control my habits as you do quite nobly. Lesson received and memorized. You could have been a headmaster.”

Will managed to remain quiet for all of two streets, and they were passing the large church with the clock tower when he started up again. “I’m not suggesting you deny that part of yourself, only be more careful about whom you reveal it to.” He paused. “Like I am.”

Worried, overly emotional Will, who hated to cross anyone. Christopher couldn’t remain peeved with him. He threw an arm over his brother’s shoulders. “How’d we end up this way? Two oddities like us in one family? Is such a thing passed down through the blood, or is it a very special gift from God?” He pointed up at the statues of saints in their niches on the towering edifice. “Scientists believe such desires are a delusion. Religious folk swear the perversion is Satan’s work. What do you think?”

“I think it doesn’t matter where it comes from.

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