Work Text:
The King of Blackmail, Charles Augustus Milverton had a very important tradition he never left the scene of a blackmail negotiation without. At the start of the negotiation, to get into the spirit in the fullest, he took out his tobacco pipe and started to smoke - then, by the time the game with his victim's pride and feelings became the most entertaining, he poured the used tobacco into the tea cup, serving it to the unfortunate soul with a cocky smile. He liked seeing the disbelief and disgust in the face of those who tortured, not just their pain - before he made them suffer even more after they refused his beautiful gift. Mr. Milverton derived a great enjoyment from his own "hospitality", his malicious laugh echoed in the room while his golden gaze was glowing from his evil power. When he was like that, his secretary, Ruskin, found him even more beautiful than usual and his heart was bursting from the happiness that he could serve such a perfect, mesmerizing, majestic man like Mr. Milverton. He was content with only watching his employer during the negotiation, but Mr. Milverton occasionally even honored Ruskin with asking for his help in humiliating his victims. Ruskin treasured these times as one of his best memories and only one thing was left he was still wishing for. One thing he never admitted to Mr. Milverton, fearing that it would confuse him.
He wished for Mr. Milverton to serve a cup of his tobacco-filled tea to him and he wanted to drink it - all of it. This was his secret dream.
Whenever Mr. Milverton went through his usual tradition, Ruskin stared at him with awe. Seeing the tobacco mixing with the tea, making the drink darker and dirty made him crave that if he could just get one sip - just one and he will never wish for more. He gulped when Mr. Milverton served the tobacco tea from the kettle to the cup and handed it over. Ruskin kept licking his lips as his eyes were fixating on the tea. It was hard to resist the temptation to jump there and tear the cup out of his hand, drinking it himself, to the bottom of the cup. He would feel the sensation of that warm tea, it would caress his mouth and his tongue. The tobacco that Mr. Milverton smoked seconds before would ease his hunger. It would be like an indirect kiss. Devouring what his beloved employer satisfied himself with once.
However, Ruskin had no chance to try the tasty nectar of his dreams and he knew exactly the reason for it. This tradition was part of the humiliating game that Mr. Milverton played, and he never wanted to humiliate his secretary. Ruskin's disappointment over wishing for the impossible was mixed with joy when he thought of this - knowing that Mr. Milverton, in his own way, cared for him and would have never treated him like a worm. This was a balsam for having no hope - and after all, it was able to please Ruskin if he could just watch and imagine that the tobacco tea was drunk by him. He was aware that he could have easily made an amount for himself at home, but this would have been disrespecting Mr. Milverton's wishes. Ruskin needed to accept that his employer didn't want him to drink that juice.
He never expected that one day, he will get compensated for all the pining of his heart.
"This was a good one, isn't it, Ruskin?" Mr. Milverton asked with a smile in the carriage, referring to the blackmail negotiation they just left behind their backs. Ruskin nodded with a devoted expression and he was ready to say more - but Mr. Milverton left no time for him. Before he spoke, two lips covered his mouth for a second. They were sensual and sweet, caressing Ruskin's lips while Mr. Milverton finished his unexpected, momentary kiss.
"I know that you will understand it." He said cheerfully while Ruskin processed what happened with burning cheeks. Instead of the used tobacco his employer smokes, he got something more. A touch from the beloved lips. An invitation to paradise.
"I always will." Ruskin whispered. And on that afternoon, he stopped wishing for the tobacco tea.