#I like to give them a domestic lifestyle in various costumes

[salarymanwaka]

[brightingales]

Velvet (1.9k words) Pairing: James Nightingale/Harry Thompson  Rated: T Tags: Opera, Domestic fluff 

Read on AO3 here 

For @itsacruelirony and to celebrate hitting a milestone of followers! Hello lovely people! 

49. “I don’t want to screw this up”. 

Harry takes a deep breath once more. He clenches his fists to try and stop his hands from shaking. Shrugging his shoulders up to his ears and then forcing them back down a few times helps to release some of the tensions there, but he’s still completely wound up. Five minutes ago, he was trembling with nerves. There were butterflies in his stomach and sweat on the back on his neck. But it was a weirdly pleasant sensation – the sort that can only come from knowing that his nerves were born from a place of anticipation, rather than fear. Now, his mood has completely soured. The quaking of his hands is entirely due to frustration. He only has to do one simple task and yet he can’t even manage that. He feels like a failure, a disappointment.

Harry checks his reflection in the mirror he’s been stood in front of as he slowly loses his mind. A month ago, he wouldn’t have recognized himself. The changes to his appearance are subtle. A new haircut makes him look older and more distinguished. He’s finally discovered moisturising and the tan from his trip away still hasn’t faded. But the changes are more than skin deep. He carries himself better now, his posture no longer stooped with the weight of the world on his shoulders. There is a confidence that seems to radiate out of him from within. The changes in him are clear to see. Even his family has commented on it.

It’s a cliché, but he really has blossomed under James’s love.

So why is it that he can’t do this one simple thing to try and repay James for everything he has done for him?  

The tickets came first. James has never been quiet about his love for opera, and Harry has always felt a bit guilty about their abandoned date all those months ago. Harry wanted to do more than just pick the first performance that was near enough to get to. So, he had spent a few evenings researching and planning – picking an opera company that has an excellent reputation as well as a diverse programme and tickets he can actually afford and settled on a performance of Un Ballo in Maschera by the Welsh National Opera a few cities over. It sounds like it will be fun and even if Harry doesn’t like it he knows that James will love having the chance to show off how much he knows about the music and the costumes and the historical setting of the story. Harry can spend a whole evening just sitting and watching and listening to James, so he is sure he’ll be well entertained even if he doesn’t like the music.

And, there will always be time to enjoy himself after in the gorgeous hotel suite he has picked for them. The double bed and whirlpool bath promise to be luxurious and relaxing. If relaxing is what they have in mind – Harry has packed some “extras” just in case he and James decide to use the bed for something other than sleeping on.

He’s bought himself some new outfits for their trip. Looking at his and James’s clothes side-by-side in their wardrobe every morning has really emphasised to him that he can’t keep dressing like a sixteen-year-old. Well, he can if he wants to – James has always made it clear that he won’t force his lifestyle onto Harry – but something within him wants to dress the way he feels inside now. Older. More sophisticated. Like a man, instead of a boy. A few hints dropped into various conversations and Harry has a good idea of the sort of things that James would like to see him in. Now the clothes that hang pride-of-place next to James’s look like they belong there as much as Harry belongs by James’s side.

The pièce de résistance (as James would put it) is something that James has unwittingly picked out for Harry. It had been a Sunday morning and James had been flicking through the magazine that came with the paper when Harry had caught him staring intensely at a photograph of a model dressed up in a tuxedo.

“Should I be worried?” Harry had asked, peering over James’s shoulder when he noticed that James had stopped flicking through the pages.

“Oh? No, my darling,” James had replied clearly thinking that Harry was jealous over the model that had captured James’s attention. “There’s no way on earth he even comes close to comparing to you. It’s the suit that caught my eye. I wouldn’t have thought this jacket with the tux would work together, but I think they look surprisingly good. What do you think?”

Those four words are the best things Harry has ever heard in his life and he always cherishes every moment James says them.

He took the magazine from James to give the photograph the same attention that James had. The tux in question looked to Harry to be completely normal. That is, of course, except for the suit jacket. It was a gorgeous heathered green in a fabric that looked soft and sheen, just like velvet.

“I think it’s gorgeous,” Harry admitted. “It’s a bit different from your other suits though. Do you have anything that would go with a jacket like this?”

“Oh no, I could never pull off velvet, not at my age,” James had said, and before Harry could remind him that he is not that old James had continued. “It wasn’t me I was thinking of wearing it; it was you. I think it would look just wonderful with your colouring. It would make your eyes even more bright than they usually are.”

Harry knew he was blushing at the revelation that James had seen something and immediately started thinking about how it would look on Harry. He couldn’t help but wonder at how he had become so firmly placed at the centre of James’s world.

“Hmmm,” Harry had replied. “I suppose it would look nice on me. But do you know what I look even better in…?”

Harry put the magazine down and reached over to brush his hands against the back of James’s neck, using the muscles there as leverage to help him climb into his lover’s lap.

James chuckled, “I think I could take a guess…”

Once they had finally got their breath back and James had slunk away to shower Harry had immediately fired up his laptop and set about trying to find the jacket. He winced when he saw the price, but if the thought alone could make James react like that, with his eyes blown wide with lust and his mouth open and red with hunger, then it was definitely going to be worth it when he saw Harry in the real thing.

Which has led him to this point here, in front of the mirror as he tries desperately to add the finishing flourish to the outfit he has so painstakingly selected. Between his shaking hands, his need to rush so that James doesn’t suspect that he’s up to something, and the fact that bow ties appear to have been invented specifically to torture him, he’s made a real mess of everything. How can such a simple task be so difficult?

“Harry are you all right in there?” James’s voice calls through the bathroom door.

“Yes! Yeah, I’m fine!”

“It’s just, you’ve been in there a while. You’re not sick, are you?”

“No! I’m ok… I just…”

“Ok, well is there anything I can help you with?” James says in such a way that Harry can hear the innuendo in his voice.

“No, I’m just… doing something… complicated… and I don’t want to screw this up…”

“Darling, you’re not making any sense…”

Now James’s voice is tinged with worry. It’s a particular tone he has – quiet and deep – that instantly makes Harry’s resolve shatter with the need to comfort and reassure him. He gives in, as he always does, and cracks the bathroom door open, just a little, so that he can poke his head round and show James that he really is completely fine.

“What are you up to in there?” James asks as he tries to look Harry up and down.

Harry could try to lie, but there would be no point. Plus, as much as Harry and James might lie to other people, these days they try very hard not to do it to each other.

“I’m trying to tie a bow-tie. But I’m sure they’ve been invented to torture people like me; I printed off instructions, I watched hours of youtube videos, and I still can’t get it right! I should have just cut my losses and got a clip on…”

“Blasphemy!” James says with a smile. “Let me see?”

Harry sighs, knowing that his lovely surprise for James is all but ruined, and opens the door.

James’s eyes go comically wide. He takes Harry by the forearm, gentle but still forceful, and leads him into the living room so that he can examine Harry under the light. Harry can see from the look on James’s face that he recognises the suit as the one from the magazine and he stays quiet as James turns him under the light, looking at him from every angle.

“It looks just as wonderful on you as I thought it would. Better, even,” James tells him, before grabbing the lapels of the suit and pulling Harry in for a searing kiss. Harry can’t help but moan into it and he clutches James around the waist to pull their bodies even closer.

“It will look even better on our bedroom floor,” Harry tells him suggestively when they finally break for air.

“Hmmm, tempting…” James says, “but I rather think that you’re up to something. All dressed up, and nowhere to go?”

“You caught me,” Harry confesses, pulling the opera tickets out of the inner pocket of the suit jacket and handing them to James. “I’ve packed your bag with your favourite suit. Dinner and hotel reservations are already made. There’s a bottle of champagne in the fridge for us to have while we wait for the taxi if you like?”

James grins and kisses him again, “how did I get so lucky?” He almost sounds like he’s completely in awe. The thought that James is so enamoured with him makes Harry’s ego swell, amongst other things.  

“Not that this isn’t completely wonderful,” James says a little later as he hands Harry a flute of champagne, “but why all the fuss? You know I’d be happy doing anything with you, don’t you?”

“I just wanted to treat my boyfriend,” Harry explains. “And I meant what I said; I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Bow ties are always difficult, you’ll get the hang of it soon…”

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry interrupts with a smile, “and you know it. I wanted to show you that I listen to you. And that your interests are important to me too. After all the time we spent… before… I know that sometimes I’m not very good at saying how I feel or showing you what you mean to me. But I really meant it – this… us… I can’t ruin it again”

James sits down beside him on the sofa and places his hand reassuringly on Harry’s thigh. He strokes his thumb up and down the sensitive skin under the thick fabric of Harry’s trousers – a touch that is more comforting than teasing.

“You won’t,” James says with absolute certainty. “And if you do, or I do, we’ll forgive each other. Ok?”

They kiss again, Harry pressing his own promise to James’s lips. Harry feels the way James’s hands caress his arms through the velvet of his suit jacket and he relaxes into the touch, finally feeling safe and supported and secure.