A Gentleman's Secret ~ The third novelette from "Different Desire", a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic novelette collection

gave him the perfect “D evil may care” sort of look. Overall he was in a dreadful shape, and despite his oddly nice dress coat, he was nothing more than a larger and older version of the thousands of small street urchins that roamed London’s streets. But still, I suppose one may almost, surprisingly enough, call him handsome , in a dangerous way , under all those ragged clothes and dirt.
    It suddenly occurred to me that we had been standing in front of each other for several minutes now in complete silence. I cleared my throat and started to say something when he rudely interrupted me.
    “I think you should let me go, Mr… Percival-Davis ,” he said in a surprisingly soft voice.
    “Oh, do you, now?” I said and frowned the way Carl would have done at the ridiculous noti on. “Well, I think not. Why on e arth would I do that?”
    “Because you do not want this. You want your quiet life. Let us agree that I will go my way and never come back, and I will make sure that your house is left in peace as well.”
    I took a step closer, letting the spear point rest gently against his unshaved throat. The tip of the spear was made of steel and was very sharp . W e stood almost uncomfortably close to each other. The idea of letting him go strongly disagreed with me.
    “Oh, really?” I said in disbelief over his absurd suggestion.
    He looked at me with his unsettling grey eyes, and he smiled , clearly pleased with himself. It was not the insufferable grin of someone who had just proven that he was right; it was the smallest and rarest smile. The kind of smile of someone who had recently learnt to smile and was still a little bit unsure if he or she did it correctly. Just a gentle curve of his lips, but it made his eyes sparkle , and his entire character changed. I had absolutely no idea what it meant, but it was most unsettling.
    “Yeah,” he said in his broad Cockney accent and leaned forward so that the spear point almost threatened to pierce his skin. His mischievous grey eyes challenged mine boldly and he added , “Really.”
    And before I had time to react, several things happened at the same time. First of all, Simon, who had had his arms raised by his head to show me that he was unarmed, grabbed the spear end with one hand, and with surprising strength, he swiftly twisted it to one side, away from him. That made me lose my balance somewhat, which in turn made his next move all too easy to execute. He seized me around my neck, he pulled me closer, and he… he kissed me!
    His lips crushed mine, and I froze completely. The only thing I managed to do was to utter a slight muffled protest at the shock of his lips touching mine. I had never been kissed in my entire life and definitively never ever against my will by a man! I had not even embraced anyone since I was a small chil d, and physical contact for me was very, very rare. So to be so utterly violated by this intimate action was , of course , upsetting to say the least. I was absolutely unable to do anything; I only stood there and let it happen. The kiss lasted no more than a few seconds; however , the feeling of his warm lips, his sharp unshaved cheek, and the smell of him would haunt me for weeks to come .
    As unexpectedly as he had begun the kiss, as swiftly did he break it. He almost lazily tilted the lantern with one foot and stepped out the flame before he grabbed some of the jewellery by the broken cabinet and went to the open window to disappear.
    However, at last I was broken out of my stupor, and as he had nearly climbed out of the window, I reached out and grabbed his dress coat. Our eyes met for a heartbeat. Me standing by the window sill holding on to his blue coat while he was already climbing down the first thick branches of ivy below . The spell was broken when he swore and struggled to get free. But my grip was firm. H owever , he was too devious for me, the trickster, and he managed to wriggle out of the dress coat and escape .
    In the end, I was holding an empty dress coat in one hand and an African spear in the other, as I watched him look up at me from the courtyard below. He made a vexing mock salute before he , with great agility , leaped over the garden wall in one smooth movement and disappeared into the London night.
    I stood there by the window for a very long time, my heart racing. My mind seemed to be in perfect turmoil , and I never noticed the cold January air from the open window. I should have felt revolted and shocked