Klaus slid Magnus’ wool dinner jacket off his shoulders. His white shirtsleeves were stark against his black waistcoat. Klaus stood in front of Magnus, and for a moment they made awkward eye contact. 

“How tall are you?” asked Magnus. 

“Short,” Klaus averted his eyes to unfasten Magnus’ waistcoat buttons.

“That’s not why I was asking.”

Klaus slid off Magnus’ waistcoat and set it aside. They both looked down at the frills on the front of Magnus’ formal dinner shirt. Klaus swallowed, and began unfastening his cravat, the fabric wound around Magnus’ collar that held his shirt closed. Klaus’ fingertips brushed against Magnus’ bare throat. The touch made Magnus’ face flush. 

“You okay?” asked Klaus.

“Nobody’s ever undressed me like this,” said Magnus. 

“Like what?” Klaus sarcastically asked. He set the cravat aside and unbuttoned Magnus’ collar button, opening his neckline. Klaus hungrily eyed his chest hair. 

Magnus held out his wrists, “Buttons.”

“Of course,” Klaus unfastened the buttons on Magnus’ cuffs, then helped him lift the shirt over his head. 

Magnus’ nipples perked up in the cool bedroom air, “Uh, what next?”

Klaus pulled Magnus’ hips toward him. Magnus gasped. 

“Was that too rough?” asked Klaus.

“No, you’re fine,” Magnus swallowed.

Klaus skillfully unbuttoned Magnus’ trousers. Magnus took a shallow breath when Klaus’ knuckles brushed against the top of his hip.

Klaus smiled, “Sorry, my hands are cold.”

“No worries,” Magnus’ trousers dropped to the floor. Klaus’ eyes followed the trail of hair from Magnus’ lower stomach to his hips. Underwear hadn’t been invented yet, so Magnus was naked beneath his trousers. Klaus’ one good eye lingered on Magnus’ hardening dick. 

Magnus looked away, “Uh, what happens next?”

“Shoes,” Klaus knelt. He was at eye level with Magnus’ dick but kept his eye focused on his shoes. 

Magnus covered his crotch with his hands. He didn’t want Klaus to see how hard he was getting.

“You can step out of your shoes.”

Magnus stepped aside. He was naked except for his white stockings, which came up just above his knee. 

Klaus sat back and admired the view. Magnus stroked himself without thinking about it, “I promise I don’t usually get this excited about undressing.”

“Me neither,” Klaus palmed the bulge in his own trousers. Then he began removing Magnus’ stockings. His cold fingertips brushed against Magnus’ skin. Magnus looked up at the ceiling and swore beneath his breath. 

Klaus tossed the stockings away, “I think we’re ready.”