Content warnings can be found here

They left together when a pair of sisters called, and Richard walked along the lane to where he had tethered his horse, aware of Valance behind him, kicking at the gravel with his boots and whistling the odd bar of whatever it had been that Serafina had played.

 Richard clenched his fists. He knew what to expect; Edward would admire the soft line that could be seen where Serafina’s breasts pushed together in the neckline of her dress. Or perhaps he would speak of the dexterity with which her fingers moved over the ivory keys, of all the salacious possibilities that contained. The longer it took for the words to come, the more intolerable the situation became. Richard lengthened his stride, hoping to outdistance him, but Valance scampered up closer, doubtless wearing that damnable smirk of his.

At last, patience exhausted, Richard snapped, “Well?”

“Well, what, Dickie?”

Richard glared. Valance was slouched like a schoolboy, disgracing the showy elegance of his jacket. “Whatever you’re going to say, let’s hear it.”

Valance smiled. “Well, dashed poor show of you, wasn’t it, old man? Not that I mind, of course, but y’know, the decent sort do tend to make their excuses when another fellow rolls up to call upon a lady.”

“You’re lecturing me on etiquette?”

“I know. I would never have thought it necessary. But it must be damned hard of you to keep track of it if when you’re rubbing shoulders with clerks and suchlike. Still, there’s no excuse for letting standards slip.”

Another stab of hot, dangerous memory. Richard felt his hand clench, as though around birch. “Are you attempting to aggravate me, Valance?”

“Valance, is it? You wound me, Dickie. And why on earth would I seek to injure you? Whatever have you done to deserve that?”

He did not rise to it. He would not rise to it.

“Still, a fine eye you’ve got there. Charming wench, your Serafina.”

“Miss Tooting,” he corrected and, as soon as he said it, he knew that Valance had been gaming for that exact response.

“Yes, well, the sooner she loses that moniker, the better, old chap. Can you imagine what her forebears were thinking?”

He pressed his jaw together and did not answer.

“Such a pretty little thing. Wasted on a philistine like you though, what? Seldom seen such talented hands. Oh, in my balmier days... Well, you could hardly blame me, could you, old man?”

He remembered not to slam Teddy against the wall, not to grab his throat until he choked, until he sought pardon because - gratifying as that would be - there would be in Valance’s eyes that surrender, that beseeching, which had always...
 
“Though I heard you defaming my character, of course. I’m not so deaf as all that, Dickie bird.”

“And you aren’t going to throw down your gage over it?”

Valance actually laughed. “Lend me four pounds, and I’m available at your leisure. No? Oh, well then, Dickie, if you won’t oblige me, I’m afraid you’ll just have to take your physic like a good boy.”

“What?”

Valance smiled a little wider, the way he always had when he spat out one last, desperate impertinence. “Oh, you heard me, old man.”

Those words. Richard’s words. The ones he had said with the tip of Teddy’s ear twisted in his hand, his own voice thick with arousal on the night that he had first realised the danger, the intensity of this infatuation. For years, they had been the signal, the overture to a thousand dark, violent nights of the sort to leave them both raw, lustful, hating. 

Take your physic like a good boy.

Richard's words, undisputedly his own.

Richard brought up his fist and slammed it in to Valance’s face. 

Valance reeled, staggered into the wall of a cottage, but he did not cry out, only laughed. “Scrapping, now is it?” He was quoting again. “Objectionable little fellow, aren’t you?”

Richard swung again at his solar plexus, but Valance blocked him and landed a sharp, unscientific blow on Richard’s collar bone. It was surprise that made him fall back a step, rather than pain. Valance moved forward, slamming his hand into the side of Richard’s head, sending him off to one side. 

Teddy had never struck him. Never.

“Oh, my dear Dickie bird, what’s come over you? Surely, I’m no match for a boxing man like you? Surely such a Platonic ideal like yourself can’t be toppled when his dog fights back?”

“Shut your mouth.” He swung again and caught Valance across the jaw, sending a spray of bloodied spit from it. Valance fell into the wall again, and Richard came close, shoving him against it, grabbing him by the lapels, yanking him off his feet. “I thought I had taught you a lesson yesterday, but it appears I need to reiterate it.”

“Got your head boy cap on again, Thornton?”

Richard brought his knee up between Valance’s thighs.

Teddy blocked, and hissed out breath. 

“Let me make one thing clear, Valance. I can ruin you.”

“Oh, Dickie, I know that.”

He slammed Valance against the wall again. Holding him in place with one hand, Richard drove his other up into Valance’s stomach, knocking the wind from him.

Of all things, he was laughing. “God in heaven, Dickie. Are you actually that threatened by me?”

He punched again. There was a heavy dull sound and Valance grunted.

“I mean it. Kiss me or give me the guilder, because if your moll is half the paragon you think her to be, a little bit of flirtation won’t sway her my way.”

He stamped his foot on Valance’s leg.

“Ah. Ow.” It was coming now, the surrender. The signs were clear enough. “Oh, you know it, Dickie,” Valance’s voice went on, wheedling and taunting in equal measure. His lips hung open, as though actually expecting a kiss. “If she really was taken with me, she’s a jade. And if she’s a jade, you’ve lost her, no matter what you do to me. She’ll always be open and willing for whoever...”

He slapped Valance’s face.

“...whoever listens to her tedious bloody...” 

Richard drove his elbow into Valance’s throat and heard the choked wheeze of his breath, felt him slump a little, defeated, silenced at last. 

“I told you to shut your mouth, Valance.” He surveyed the bloodied little fool. “By Jove, you disgust me.”

Valance’s breathing was ragged and he seemed unable to stand straight, but he still stared into Richard’s eyes, resentful and mocking and angry. But underneath that, ah, underneath was the old whisper of longing - that ancient weakness of Teddy’s, that promise of endless adoration that swore it would do anything, if only Richard consented to master him. 

And seeing Valance waiver before him once again, Richard found he had no taste for it today. 

No, he would not play that game again, but that did not mean he would leave. Did not mean he couldn't still use it, he couldn't take hold of it, twist it, make it in to a knife to rip Valance apart. Because that was all it was, all this posturing and disruption - just a desperate bid for Richard’s attention. 

“Let me make one thing clear,” he said. “I will marry Miss Tooting, with her father’s permission or without it, and if I can have her?” He ran his fingers lightly over Valance’s face. “Well, really. Why would I still want you?”

“I suit your predilections a damned sight better.” It was sulkiness and sincerity.

“Oh, Teddy,” he said, and laughed. “A man outgrows his boyish affections. You mean nothing to me.” He measured the coldness of his voice, did not let a brush of doubt or uncertainty touch it, “See? I can look you in the eye and tell you that now. Nothing. You don’t even disgust me anymore. You come trailing after me, like this, fawning…” He felt Valance stiffen a little under his hands. “And it’s just fearfully tedious. You’re too easy to have, Valance.”  

“You’ve said that before.” 

Richard released him, and slapped his face again, but lightly this time, mocking. “You bore me, Valance. Run along.”

There was hurt in Edward’s eyes, but he did not move. 

“Trouble me again and I’ll take what little you have left to you.”

But that was going too far. All the softness that had come in to Valance’s face fell away, all the vulnerability. He had never been so much of a fool as he played. 

“Oh? And how will you manage that?”

“I have already persuaded Mrs Tooting to receive you no longer.”

“The loss, Dickie, I’ll feel it keenly.”

Richard gave a restrained laugh, looked down, “And if you continue to make a nuisance of yourself, I can make it so that little bunter you’re tupping gets hauled up on a charge.”

“Of course you can,” said Valance through bloody teeth. “So why are you standing here making fucking threats?”

But, oh, oh, he’d touched something there. Richard leaned forward, brought his mouth close to Valance’s cheek, whispered, “Language, Valance.” 

Another of their old bywords.

He felt the flinch. He could strike the man all night and not hurt him so much as those words would do. He put his fingers among Valance’s soft, short hair, tugged it. “Oh, Teddy. I might not be the Honourable, but my employers trust me. A word in the right ear and I’m sure the magistrates can think of something that she’s done. And you? A little spell in Tangier would do you the world of good. I’m sure your pretty lips would earn you all sorts of favours.”

Valance said nothing.

“Don’t you see? You’re in my power again. I thought that was how you liked it.”

“Sod off, Dickie,” he said, but he made no attempt to escape.

“And, what, you say that hoping I’ll take my fists to you again? Make me angry enough to remember how much I like to break you?”

Valance sniffed, but did not reply.

“Here’s the thing, Teddy,” and he brought his lips so close that he was touching the skin as he spoke. He felt the powder on his lips, smelled the blood. “I never cared about your language. You knew that as well as I did. But we’re not playing any more. If I want to hurt you, I’m not going to go for the kind of damage that makes you come back panting for more.” And he twisted his hand, grabbing Valance’s chin, squeezing into the bruises, cutting off his air. There, there, at last, a look of panic, of fear. “I’m going to make it so I never have to look at your cringing face again. Do you understand me? We’re done.”