Moon Flower

Once they placed the trays on the sideboard, Miss Celestine motioned Galen to step back and wait against the wall.

That was when Azriel and the others began their portion of the evening, moving about the room, serving the gentlemen tea and cakes. It would’ve seemed perfunctory enough a task if it weren’t for the admiring glances or seemingly innocent touches on backs or shoulders from the men being attended to. His stomach dipped as Mr. Blackburn greeted Azriel with a wink and whispered something in his ear.

As Galen stood near the wall, attempting to act invisible, he overheard topics of conversation ranging from business to family. It struck him that this kind of evening was also a way for these men to connect as their true selves, and it made him feel both glad and weirdly melancholy. Especially as he observed the two men in the corner who only had eyes for each other, their touches and closeness giving them away. He felt sad for them, angry on their account too, that they could not show their affection openly in society.

The idea that they had to live separate lives from what their hearts wanted gutted him. Even Galen would’ve been expected to marry someone of his standing. As it was, he had no standing at all anymore, and so would undoubtedly live his life as a bachelor. He decided right then that it was better than the alternative—only meeting your beloved in these circumstances.

He was suddenly grateful that Madam Langley had only required him to observe this evening rather than partake. He would’ve likely been filled with nervous energy, and that might’ve disturbed the merry atmosphere.

Some men drank the tea, while others abstained, but nonetheless, the room grew livelier as the evening wore on. Galen was most mesmerized by the men’s auras, which began to intertwine in the deepest purples of passion. Even Azriel’s blue was more violet than anything else.

Speaking of the man, he could feel his gaze pressing in at times, as if to check on him. It was so like Azriel to be a caretaker, even in the middle of a bawdy house event. So Galen offered him his best smile to let him know all was well, though his stomach felt uneasy with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

Soon enough, the social portion of the evening came to an end, and Galen helped clear the teacups and leftovers as the others moved into the vestibule area to await the gentleman callers’ decisions.

All except the men who met here, of course. They had already retired to their rooms for the evening.

The anticipation was thick as Galen watched the event from the sidelines. Oscar smirked in his direction when he was selected by Mr. Walters. The twins were all smiles as they went off with a Mr. Ratcliffe. And just as the lads had predicted, Mr. Blackburn took Azriel’s flower and approached Madam Langley to negotiate the terms. When he returned, he offered Azriel his arm, which Galen thought was a sweet gesture. As they strolled toward the hallway, Galen turned away, not wanting to stare or make Azriel uncomfortable.

Once everyone was set, Madam Langley bustled off to discuss something with the footman, Miss Celestine returned to the kitchens, and Galen was left to his own devices. At least momentarily. He had a feeling Madam Langley kept her ears and eyes open and didn’t stray far. Was Madam Fairborn doing the same above Enchantment? Not in his wildest dreams could he have fathomed it.

He moved toward the hallway, noting that some apertures were open while others remained closed. He considered retiring to bed, but the curiosity was too much, and the idea that everyone had a choice in the matter was…exhilarating.

Still, he felt timid as he stepped toward the first open slot, making sure to keep his distance so he wouldn’t be detected. It felt almost clandestine, and his pulse throbbed with anticipation. This room was occupied by Mr. Walters and Oscar, and Oscar was slowly undressing the man. His coat was already hung in the wardrobe, but his shirt and waistcoat were tossed to the bed, and when Oscar knelt in front of him and reached for the placket on his breeches, Galen held his breath.

True to Oscar’s confession, Mr. Walters’s cock was large and thick, and the man had barely stepped out of his pants and stockings before Oscar’s mouth was engulfing the head, his lips stretched to the hilt, and Mr. Walters groaned, his fingers digging into Oscar’s hair. Galen watched for a minute more, his own prick stirring at the sound of sucking, and then he moved on before he embarrassed himself.

He passed a couple of closed apertures before finding the next open one, yet he stayed back, feeling guilty again for watching. But then his curiosity dragged him closer as if by an invisible thread.