so_far_fallen | For withallofmyself

Aria had woken early and left Basil slumbering in his bed. He planned to make him up a tea tray and some breakfast to take up, it was something they often did for one another if they didn't have to be anywhere urgently in the mornings.

As he padded downstairs to the hall Aria noticed an envelope had been put through their letterbox so he went to collect it. He didn't recognise the swirling handwriting the address was written in, and it was very rarely that they received letters from anyone who wasn't Lord Henry, but he gave a shrug and took the letter to put it on the side of the tray with Basil's toast, deciding it couldn't be anything more sinister than a commission from a fan of Basil's art or perhaps a cheque for outstanding payment for a piece.

Once the breakfast was ready Aria took it up and put it on the stand beside the bed, then leaned down to press the softest of kisses to Basil's cheek.
"Good morning."

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That evening while they're spending the time before bed in the sitting room Aria fetches out a bottle of red wine and pours them both a generous glass. Neither of them drink very often or usually very much, but he's hoping it may relieve some of the horrible tension and calm their nerves.

"Thank you, sweetheart." Basil says. "Will you sit here, with me?" He asks, patting his knee while he takes a generous sip of his wine. He just wants to be close to Aria, suddenly, as if that will make him less afraid.

Aria nods and gladly moves to sit on Basil's lap, he's feeling a similar need for closeness, though his may be fuelled by a different sort of fear, one of being upstaged and replaced.

Basil cuddles up to him, sighing.

"I love you." He promises at length about halfway into his glass of wine. "Just you. Your light eclipses all else for me."

Aria does not respond but rests his head on Basil's shoulder and puts his arms around him.

"I love you too. I don't know what I'd do without you. Your happiness means everything to me, it's the most important thing in the world."

"I wish you would have a little care for your happiness as well, sweet boy." Basil confesses, finishing his wine and hiding his face in Aria's neck.

"I do," he promises, "I am happy. I love our little home and my job. There's nothing else in the world I want that I don't already have."

"Alright." He says, softly. "I will not let Dorian's surprise visit disturb the little life we've made that I love so much."

"It will likely be nothing," he says, trying to sound a bit brighter, "We're probably worrying for no reason at all."

Basil nods, with as much forced optimism. "Finish your wine, darling, and we'll go to bed. It will all be alright. Who knows how much he's changed?"

Aria does finish his wine, and then presses a kiss to Basil's jawline and another to his lips.
"We shall see what tomorrow brings."

What the next day brought was not peace but a loud ringing of the doorbell at lunch time. Basil went to get the door--

"Goodness, what are you doing answering your own door? Don't you have a man for that kind of thing? Though I suppose you'd have nowhere to keep one, in this place. I confess I nearly passed it."

When Dorian arrived Aria saw that things were even worse than he'd feared - he hadn't imagined him to be quite as young, and not nearly as beautiful. He could see why Basil had been enamoured with him. How young must he have been when they met?

He cleared his throat and loitered in the hall.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Gray. May I take your coat for you?"

Basil hadn't imagined him quite so young either, and he allows Dorian into the house in stunned silence. Looking like someone had slapped him.

Dorian turns towards Aria, and for a moment he's surprised and then his huge blue eyes narrow into chips of ice.

"Aaah, I see why the valet had to be let go."

Dorian's stare goes right through Aria like it really is a shard of razor sharp ice.

"We just prefer to live more simply," he says, trying to be as polite and cheery as he can manage. "Shall I fetch us some tea?"

The most unnerving thing about the look is that the rest of his face remains so kittenish and sweet. He offers his coat imperiously to Aria.

"Of course. That would be lovely. Basil and I will catch up while you do that, won't me."

Aria is reluctant to leave them but there's little else he can do. He looks at Basil to make sure he's alright but then goes to the kitchen.

It takes ten minutes to brew the tea and prepare a tray with home made biscuits and cakes, which he then brings through.

Dorian is thus far behaving himself, though he's helped himself to Basil's chair. He's lounging there with perfect ease, and it's probably a bit eerie to see how much of Harry is in his posture and gestures. Basil is on the sofa and he looks fretful, fidgeting with his cigarette case.

Dorian peers at Aria curiously when the young man brings the tea things.

"So do you do all of the housework? You really don't have a maid or a cook?" He asks and while his face has an innocent, open look about it, there's something cruel and nasty about the way he asks.

"Oh, we manage between us," Aria replies, lightly. "Most of this country does, and that's often when they have jobs and children, I don't see why we shouldn't when there's only the two of us and the house is a manageable size."

He sets the tray down and sits beside Basil, almost protective.
"I'm glad to finally meet you, Mr. Gray. Basil has told me so much about you."

"Between the two of you?" He looks at Basil, in shock. Basil offers a brittle smile. The young man laughs, a sharp sound like the chiming of bells. Once that sound made Basil the happiest in all the world, and now it makes him feel cold inside. He can't help himself, taking Aria's hand on the sofa between them.

"My God, does Harry know about this? I thought he was all for keeping you out of the usual trouble. And instead I find you here playing house with..." He gestures to Aria.

The way Dorian looks at him ruffles Aria's feather and he prickles. It's difficult to stop his smile feeling forced.

"Lord Henry helped us find the house actually. "

Dorian stares between Aria and Basil.

"My god..." He says, with a hysterical little gasp. "So much has changed since I went abroad."

"For us, yes." Basil says softly. "But one would think to look at you that you had been gone but a day."

"Basil tells me you've been travelling, Mr. Gray," Aria says. "How was your trip? I imagine you saw some wonderful things."

"Yes." He says, a bit slowly. He seems surprised that Aria is speaking to him and that Basil is allowing the younger man to have social control of the situation. "I went all over the world. Basil would have loved it. So many beautiful places. And beautiful boys, so lovely and so sweet and willing." He went on to describe his romps through the near east and the upper reaches of the African continent, and the Mediterranian (where he and Harry had "many wonderous exploits", he claimed) and of his visits to New York and Chicago in the US. He rambled at length without much care for the fact that Basil was looking sicker by the minute.

"Goodness," Aria remarks, when Dorian pauses for breath, "That sounds very exciting. Probably a little to energetic for us, but what a wonderful experience it must have been."

He leans forwards to pour tea for himself and top up Basil's cup the way he likes it.

"So if it's not too bold to ask, what brings you back? And to the door of our humble abode to boot?"