Loved You Once

By Hollis Shiloh

Two sweet gay Regency romance stories:

Loved You Once
Boyhood friends are separated and grow up apart. When they meet again, Sander is shocked to discover his friend Paul still has feelings for males—and acts on his feelings. Sander is disturbed and unnerved; he's never allowed himself to think those sorts of things, much less act on them. The punishment would be death, after all. But he doesn't want to lose Paul again, no matter what. Perhaps his friendship can be enough; perhaps Sander won't be jealous of more….

Laurent St. Claire
When Laurent St. Claire discovers the handsome singer he's been seducing is a virgin, he breaks things off cruelly between them. He doesn't want a hesitant lover—and he doesn't want matters of the heart to enter into it. Or so he thought….

Total length for both stories: ~22,000 words
Heat level: low
Categories: sweet gay romance, Regency romance, historical / English romance

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spare Words Press
• Release date: Sep 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215411858

Book preview

Loved You Once

by Hollis Shiloh

1806

Tadwood Hall

Sander is an ugly little toad.

He is not! A familiar voice rose in protest, indignant on his behalf, and ten-year-old Sander Noel Kaye turned in relief to his rescuer.

His best friend was nearly one year younger than he, but already larger and stronger than Sander. It seemed as though Sandy would never grow strong or big, and he certainly knew he would never be good-looking. But he still hated being called a toad.

Cyril's superior smirk transferred from Sander, obviously cataloguing and looking down upon his faults, to face Paul Rotherham, firstborn son of Lord Rotherham. Cyril put a slightly less supercilious look on his face; Paul was not to be trifled with, whereas Sander had no family or money or position, and neither personal strength nor looks to add to his balance sheet. If not a toad, then what? Perhaps a bug. He's small enough and ugly enough.

No he isn't! Possessive arms wrapped around Sander. They were still chubby with baby fat, but they were strong arms, welcome arms. Sandy's handsome. And he pressed a resounding kiss on Sander's cheek.

Sander felt some of the tension leave his slim frame. Paul still liked him. No matter what, Paul still liked him.

Come on, Sandy. Let's go play. Tugging his friend after him, Paul turned away, raising his head slightly in a lordly manner, snubbing his cousin Cyril.

I've seen handsomer rats! called Cyril after him. And bigger ones too!

Sandy bristled, hands forming into fists, but Paul's hand on his arm kept him from turning back. The two boys walked away. Why does he bother you so? asked Paul. Cyril is just a liar.

No, he's telling the truth. That's what makes me angry, Sandy admitted. I am small and ugly and not strong. But I don't think that's why he hates me. He wasn't certain why Cyril did hate him, but felt it almost certainly had something to do with his friendship with Paul and because Sandy was poor now.

He's wrong. You may not be very big, but you are strong. You climbed to the top of the tree when I couldn't and no one else could either. Nobody weak could do that. And you'll be big someday, and you're beautiful right now.

I'll never be as big or good-looking as you, said Sandy. He'd always been a truthful lad. But thank you for defending me. They both remembered what happened the last time Sandy lost his temper and punched Cyril. Not only did Cyril repay the favour savagely, but Sandy had been punished for being disrespectfully to his betters. Between the two, he hadn't been able to sit down for nearly a week, nor see out of his black eye.

However, Paul had paid back Cyril in kind and so the rude lad had not been eager to pummel Sandy again.

Paul ruffled Sander's hair, smiling. He didn't speak, but his eyes shown with friendly cheer. He caught Sander in what was halfway a hug, halfway a headlock, and kissed him again soundly on the cheek. His perfect mouth crinkled up in pleasure. I do love you.

I know. Sandy sighed and leaned into the pressure, finding no unease in the touch of his dearest friend, where he would have bristled if anyone else had tried to roughhouse with and playfully tousle him. He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the warmth and safety. I don't know why you do, but I'm glad.

In the months since his parents' death, he'd had no one else. Paul's parents had taken Sandy in as a favour to their now-deceased neighbours. They'd died in debt; he had no land and no relatives who wanted him, and his situation would have been grim indeed if not for their kindness. Paul, his dearest friend, was by his side so often that sometimes he could forget how unhappy he was. It was good not to be parted from his friend, even though so much else had changed in his life.

You'll sleep in my room? asked Paul.

Sandy opened his eyes and nodded fervently. I don't want to be alone.

Good. Me neither. Race you to the apple tree! he crowed, releasing Paul suddenly. He made a wild dash for it, arms flailing by his sides as he ran, slightly bow-legged but nonetheless strong and well-built. Sandy put on a burst of speed and shot past him. He might be a bit weedy for his age, but his legs were long and he ran fast and true. He touched the apple tree a pace ahead of Paul and then collapsed happily under a rough, friendly tackling from his friend. The grass pressed against his back and Paul lay on top of him, and the tree leaves hung comfortably high above in the bright blue sky, and for a moment he was truly happy.

Paul didn't get up right away, but held him down by the shoulders, smiling at him. Their bodies were tangled together, and for some reason Sandy didn't quite understand, he liked this. He wriggled a little more, hoping to enjoy it further, get a little closer. He reached up to tug at Rotherham, pull him closer and maybe get the upper hand in their gentle wrestling game.

I could kiss you, said Paul in a voice gone funny and quiet. For real. The way men and women do.

But we're not men and women. We're children.

Yes, said Paul, and his eyes held strange secrets. He dipped his head and pressed his lips, lightly and for one second only, on Sander's. 

It didn't last long enough for Sander to be certain what he thought of it, but he didn't hate it.

Do you do that with the girls who visit? asked Sander, curious. He reached up to wipe his mouth, which was now damp and a bit sticky. Paul did not always wash his face until his governess caught him and made him.

No. Rotherham frowned down at him. Don't wipe it off. He bent and placed another there, and this time Sandy tried to give it back. He'd never kissed anyone before, not properly, and it felt strange and nice at the same time, even though it was sticky.

Will you marry me? asked Paul suddenly. Just for secret, for you and me. Nobody else has to know.

Marry? We can't. I'm a boy and you're a boy.

"Well