forum A Gentleman? // OxO // Closed

Started December 09, 2019 by @ElderGod-Icefire

tune

Based off of the book "A Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue"

Jack Montague is infamous among the wealthy upperclass of 1700's England. Known for being a rascal, a scoundrel, and a flirt who knows no bounds, it is whispered and gossiped that he'll take just about anyone into his bed.

Even another man.

He was kicked out of Eton for mucking around with another boy named Jasper, though that isn't common knowledge, and would likely have already been disinherited, but for the fact that he is the sole male heir in the Montague line.

Now, though, he leaves on his tour of Europe, his "last great fling" before he's forced to settle down and quit his life of partying, waking up in others beds or with others in his own. At least, that's how he sees it.

But his father, determined to somehow fix Jack's wild nature, has decided that another boy will be accompanying him on the Tour. Another son of a nobleman, who it has never been said of that he is anything like Jack. This boy, supposedly, will help to keeps a rein on Jack, keep him from drinking and sleeping his way through Europe. Oh, and Jack's sister is coming along to for part of the way, then they will drop her off at a finishing school.

Jack is already determined to hate this boy. He is determined not to like him, and to avoid him as much as possible.

But life is funny, isn't it?

The other boy is so… infuriating. Handsome, kind… everything Jack could ever want. But this boy is, without question, off-limits. No way could he ever return the attraction that is beginning to grow inside of Jack's chest.

Right?

So. I want some angsty goodness where neither of them wants to admit their crush on each other, and some good old historical fun. Obviously, I am Jack Montague, and you will be the other boy.

Rules:

• All of andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)'s rules apply
• This will get dark most likely, so mature RPers only
• This will be descriptive, so a minimum of five sentences of at least middling length is required per response
• Steamy scenes will be taken to PMs
• Again, angsty goodness is a must
• I reserve the right to say no

I will post template when someone joins

Name:
Titles/Titles they will inherit from their father:
Gender and sexuality:
Age (18 or 19):
Looks:
Reputation?:
Other:

Name: Jack Henry Montague
Titles/Titles they will inherit from their father: Lord
Gender and sexuality: Male, pan
Age (18 or 19): 18
Looks: Jack is of about average height, with a slim but well-muscled body. His hair is golden blonde, and a little bit wavy. It usually is rather messy, and looks like he either just had an intense make out session with someone, or rolled out of bed. Sometimes both. His eyes are a brilliant, medium blue.
Reputation?: Known as a flirt and a rascal, and for being able to drink just about anyone under the table. Also for being kicked out of Eton college for an unknown scandal.
Other:

Name: Francis Sol Olivier
Titles/Titles they will inherit from their father: Viscount (“Lord”)
Gender and Sexuality: Male + Bi
Age (18 or 19): 18
Looks: Francis is a little bit taller than most people his age. He has a naturally narrow build, and a fair amount of muscle on his arms and torso. His hair is light is a light brown with subtle amber tones really only noticeable in the sunlight. It’s usually very straight and easy to tend to. He usually keeps it brushed and simply styled, pulled back behind his head. He has hazel eyes, more green than brown.
Reputation?: He’s known as a quite chaste, responsible, and a very private person. Not very many people have seen him with a genuine smile of his face. As far as most people outside of his family know, he’s never been with or courted a lady—much less a man. At least publicly.
Other:

Ooh I like him! So I was thinking we could start the morning they leave on their Tour, if that's alright with you?

(Alright!)

Jack was awoken by a servant shaking him awake, telling him it was time to get up. "What ungodly hour is this?" he grumbled as he sat up, checking the clock. "Oh, good Lord." it was morning. Worse, it was early morning. His head pounded with a hangover, and he slid out of bed and onto the floor. He was dressed only in his shirt from the day before. It was wrinkled and now stained with something unknown, and as he took it off, he noticed there was rouge smeared on his skin. He sighed, scrubbing it off and getting dressed. He headed downstairs, though not before finishing off a bottle of whiskey that had been sitting on his mantle.

Downstairs, he saw his sister and parents waiting, along with a boy he vaguely recognized.

Francis looked up as he heard the boy he was supposed to be taking the tour with descended the stairs. He straightened back his shoulders and kept his hands stiffly at his sides. He lightly pressed the sides of his coat between his thumb and forefingers. It felt less awkward that way. Father had always told him to make a good impression, and good impressions meant good posture. They also meant a crisp coat, neatly combed hair, and a bunch of lace gathered at his throat.

However, he couldn’t help the disapproving frown that spread like a shadow across his face as he saw the boy. Silent, he waited for them to be introduced.

Jack acknowledged them with a nod, heading over to the side table and stuffing about five of the little cakes on it into his mouth. His father's hand landed on his shoulder in a vise-like grip, and he flinched.

"You will greet our guest in a way that better fits his station, Jack, and you will remember your manners." His father said in a low tone.

Jack clenched his jaw, swallowing the food and turning to…what was the boy's bloody name, anyways? He cleared his throat, and gave a small, quick bow. "Good morning, Mr, ah…" he thought for another long moment. Bloody hell, did his head hurt. He could hardly think. "Olivier." he finally finished. He gave another quick nod, and then ate another of the little cakes. Jack was dressed in an emerald green waistcoat over a crisp white shirt, a silver and green cravat, and dark pants. His hair was tousled and messy, and there was the faintest dot of rouge still visible on his neck.

Francis bowed back, “Good morning, Mr. Montague.” He spoke slowly, measuredly, as he was taught. Though he was beginning to wonder if Mr. Montague was even worth his effort. When he rose, he scanned over Jack’s outfit to compare with his own. It looked decent enough, with the exception of his deplorable hair. He stifled the urge to wrinkle his nose up at it. He pretended not to see the rouge on his neck, quickly glancing away after his eyes returned to it.

Francis wore an embroidered, rich gray coat with black buttons, and a maroon waistcoat. He touched his lace cravat, making sure it was still properly straightened.

Jack flopped down on the sofa, closing his eyes for a moment, then opening them again. He and Francis were about equal in station, as far as he remembered. He wasn't quite sure. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, studying Francis. He's handsome. That's not fair. It's harder to hate handsome people. He thought crankily. He wished he had another bottle of whiskey. Or rum. Or wine. Or anything, really.

"Jack. Get up this instant." His father's voice was a whip crack. "In case you've forgotten, you are leaving today. Now get up, and behave like you should." The faintest hint of his father's old French accent poked through, something it only did when he was very, very angry.

Jack got up quickly, hands half raised defensively. "Right. Sorry. Head hurts this morning." He said quickly, looking at his toes.

Jack’s father’s tone even made Francis a bit nervous; he reached up his hand to scratch the bridge of his nose, which rose and fell with a shallow, crooked curve. His eyes looked dark from afar, but not black by any means. They were round, which seemed to make his expression hold an ever-present tenderness. He lightened his taut frown.

“You have a lovely home, Lord Montague,” he finally said just to try and break the tension, “Thank you for inviting me.”

Lord Montague's eyes flicked to Francis, and he gave a tight smile. "Yes, thank you. And you are quite welcome." He stepped back from Jack to address the both of the boys, and Elizabeth, Jack's younger sister. "Your escort will meet you in Paris. Until then, I expect good behavior." He looked at Jack when he said this.

Jack, still looking at his toes, dipped his head in a nod. "Of course, sir."

"Which means up before noon, and no alcohol, or cavorting about. With anyone." Lord Montague's eyes held a dark warning as he said this.

Jack clenched his jaw, and flicked his hair from his face, an easy, practiced smile flashing onto his lips. "I don't cavort with just anyone. I do have standards." He replied.

"Yeah, and those standards are two legs and good-looking." His sister muttered.

Francis raised his brow at that, stifling a snort. He had heard about Mr. Montague’s promiscuity. He struggled to keep a straight face, fighting a smile that was not so much stemmed from amusement as it was from awkwardness. He remained silent again, not sure how he could contribute. He clasped his hands behind his back, content to observe the conversation.

He found Jack’s disposition fascinating to say the least. He didn’t see many lords’ sons acting as he did.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Wrong." He told his sister.

His father pressed his lips into a thin line. He grabbed Jack's shoulder and pulled him into a separate room, closing the door behind them. The two came back after a few minutes, Jack's shoulders hunched and his clothing messed up, his father looking furious. "Let's head outside." Lord Montague suggested, though it was less of a suggestion and more an order. He led the way out.

Jack and his sister followed, Jack lagging to the back of the group and walking as if he were trying not to hurt himself.

Francis watched them return with sudden concern welling in his gut. He followed Lord Montague, trailing behind Elizabeth, and a few steps in front of Jack. He kept his hands clasped behind his back, and let his gaze fall while he thought. Curiosity prodded the front of his mind. What did his father say to him? He knit his eyebrows together. What had happened?

Francis cast a brief glance over his shoulder to Jack. He didn’t necessarily like this boy, but his sudden change in disposition concerned him— just as he would be concerned about anyone.

The coach was outside and had been packed by the servants. Jack's father turned to them. "Now. I do hope you have a good Tour." He kissed his daughter's cheek, but merely gave Jack a significant look, before turning to stand beside his wife.

Elisabeth climbed in the coach, adjusting her skirts as she sat down, waving to her parents.

Jack nodded to his father, and walked to the door, then paused. "You go on in first." He said to Francis, trying to be polite. Although he really just wanted to climb into the carriage and drink from the flask tucked in his pocket, and then sleep.

Francis murmured his thanks and climbed in after Elizabeth. After settling down and fixing the tail of his coat, he took out a small leather bound book from his pocket. He rested it in his lap to look through later. He tapped the cover absentmindedly with his thumbs. With his parents’ reminder ringing in his ear, he gave a polite wave and a nod—one of both gratitude and farewell— to Lord Montague and his wife.

Jack got into the carriage, plopping down on the seat. The servants closed the door and the horses lurched into motion. As soon as they were out of sight of the house, he pulled the flask from his pocket, opened it, and drained a quarter of it in one go.

Elizabeth pressed her lips into a thin line, and got out a book and began to read. She was obviously trying to ignore her brother.

Jack studied Francis with his lips pursed. Why does he have to be handsome? He thought crabbily.