Chapter 16

Waking up with Arthur at a normal time, rather than me coming in at five or six in the morning and getting a couple of hours in bed with him was good, despite the circumstances. I decided to work days for a while so my schedule would coincide better with his. After what he'd told me, and with him starting his new medication, I didn't want to leave him alone all the time. I earned less money during the day, but it didn't matter. I had plenty for what I needed.

From Monday to Friday, I worked from ten until six, then made my way home, usually picking up food on the way. Arthur didn't question it, but every time he looked at me, it seemed to be with gratitude.

When we ate together, he tried to eat a reasonable amount of food, and after just one week he looked healthier, with more colour in his face and a little bit more flesh on him. I wondered if he bothered to eat at all when I wasn't home. A piece of toast was enough to take his medication.

Nothing happened between us. We spent the nights in each other's arms, and I took a single sleeping pill every night to help me stay drowsy for longer. We exchanged brief little kisses of greeting when we woke up, or when we arrived home, but that was all. After the culmination of our night out, I feared kissing him more deeply or touching him in case I upset him. The fact that we'd got each other off a few times before didn't register.

By the next weekend, Arthur started to suffer from the side effects of the new medication. Sometimes his muscles twitched, or his legs would cramp, and he'd have to get out of bed and walk about. He complained he was always thirsty and drank water as if he were trying to drain the supply to the block.

"Do you think you should see a doctor?" I asked him on Saturday, after we'd both finished working for the day.

"No." He shook his head. "It's normal. Muscle spasms, dry mouth, weight gain, dizziness, blurred vision, and other stuff. I'm lucky this time. It's just the first two."

"You're gaining weight," I added. "Not a lot, but it's noticeable. That's not a bad thing." I ran my hand down his back and felt the slightly less pronounced ridge of his spine. "You seem to be eating more, though."

"I make more effort when you're here. When you worked nights, sometimes I couldn't be bothered. A lot of the time. Old habits. I got so used to not eating when I was a kid—"

"I know," I said softly.

"It's easier with you. It's getting to be a new habit." He leaned against the kitchen counter while I heated some cans of beef stew I'd bought and spread soft cheese on bread—butter on Arthur's slices. "Travis?"

"Yeah?" I turned the heat down on the stove and looked at him. "What's up?"

He flushed and avoided my eyes. "You do still like me, don't you?"

"Of course I do. What—?" I thought about the last few days and realised what he was getting at. "I was scared to. After what you told me, I was worried I'd do something to make things worse for you."

"You won't. It was a long time ago—twenty years. It just seems awful to you because you only just found out. Remember that day when we touched each other? Then we got in the shower and did it again? I loved that. I still want that. I was worried you didn't. I thought that after you found out what happened to me, you didn't want to anymore. Because you're not the first after all."

"I'm sorry, Arthur." The stew hissed and spat, and I turned the heat off completely, before I drew him closer to me. "I still want that, too. I want you. I just didn't know what to do for the best."

He met my gaze and suddenly smiled. "Can we go to bed, then?"

"Now?"

"Yes." He slid his hands up from my chest to my neck and brought our lips together. I kissed him back, slow and gentle until he slid his tongue into my mouth. Then I pulled away.

"Let's get comfortable."

Five minutes later, the bed was made up and we slid under the covers. I was more nervous than I'd been the first time we did anything, and my dick stayed soft. I couldn't stop thinking about the terrible things Arthur had gone through, and how much he'd been hurt. I kissed him, but it was half-hearted, and even the feel of his erection nudging my thigh didn't get me fired up.

"Travis." He cupped my face and met my eyes. "Stop it. Stop thinking about it. I'm fine."

"You a mind reader?"

"You're really obvious right now. You're thinking about what happened to me, and it's making you nervous in case you do something that makes me freak out again. I was fine before, wasn't I? When we first started this?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"And I'm fine now. Stop worrying. Or maybe I'll just take over, shall I?"

I grinned, trying to relax. "Do you want to?"

"Close your eyes." He smiled back. "I know something that will get you out of your own head."

I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes, my pulse quickening. Usually I was the one to reassure Arthur about something. I rarely needed it myself, but I remembered that night when I couldn't sleep, and he stroked my hair. He took care of me then, and he would now. I relaxed and waited to see what would happen.

I felt Arthur's hair brush my face as he moved, then his lips met mine in a gentle caress. His tongue slid along my upper lip and teased the tip of mine. He placed a hand on my chest over my heart, then after a moment lightly stroked his way down to my stomach. The muscles fluttered, and my heartbeat picked up. I lifted my hand to touch him, but he pressed it back down onto the mattress. I lay still, loosely clenching my fists at my sides, as his lips left mine and brushed my throat.

He was so gentle, his fingertips stroking me so lightly they made my skin pebble with goose bumps. Warm breath fanned my neck, then suddenly a sharp spike of pain as he nipped the skin close to my shoulder. I sucked in a breath, and my dick stirred.

"Arthur—"

"Shh." He pushed the sheet back and kissed his way down my chest to my right nipple. I'd never thought of them as erogenous zones, but when his lips and tongue circled it, the small nub stiffened.

"Shit," I gasped.

Arthur chuckled softly, and the mattress moved as he sat up. I started to open my eyes, wanting to see him.

"Keep them closed," he instructed.

I shut them again. This was beyond arousing. Not being able to see what he was doing; only being able to feel and to hear; letting him do what he wanted. My erection rose and pushed against the sheet. Arthur laughed again, a soft happy sound that I didn't hear from him very often. Then he turned his attention to my other nipple and teased it into hardness. I squirmed, suddenly desperate for him to step things up. I imagined him sliding his hands down my body, maybe his mouth too, and stroking me off. I didn't expect him to suddenly slide over me and straddle me, his knees either side of my hips, his erection bumping mine as it swayed in front of him. My eyes shot open.

He flushed but laughed again. "You're not very good at doing what you're told."

"I have to see you. You're fucking driving me crazy."

"You like it, huh?"

"Hell, yes."

He shifted on my lap, getting more comfortable. His sac settled against mine, making it draw up. Then he reached for the lube.

"What are you—?"

"Shh," he repeated. He squeezed some of the fluid into his palm, then slicked up his erection. I stared at it, short and thick, jutting from a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair. I wondered if he was going to jerk off over me, and the thought made me throb. But then he slid his hand around me and brought our shafts together. I groaned and pushed my hips up. I was close, just from these simple touches; surprising given that a few minutes ago I hadn't thought I'd even get hard.

Arthur stroked us together, slow and steady, the lube making us slide easily against each other. I stared unashamedly at him, as the thick dark head of his dick slipped through his fist. He was cut, the same as me, and he oozed precome. I'd seen him before, of course, but I hadn't stared too much. Now I couldn't take my eyes off him, and the sight of our erections together coupled with the feel of his hand and his hard flesh against mine, pulled me towards orgasm. The sound of panting filled the room, and I realised it was me.

"I'm not gonna last much longer," I said breathlessly.

"Don't try. I'm almost there."

I closed my eyes again. I couldn't keep them open, as my groin tightened with the familiar tingling sensation of approaching ejaculation. I rolled my head back on the cushion, my chest heaving. Arthur's thighs squeezed my hips, and warm fluid spattered onto my belly and chest—his, not mine. The feel of him coming tipped me over the edge. I cried out as I shot through his fist and added my mess to his on my own body.

Arthur reached for a pair of discarded underwear to wipe my chest and stomach, then slid off me and stretched out at my side. I opened my eyes and slid my arms around him.

"You're fucking amazing, you know that?"

"You liked it?"

"Fuck, yes, I liked it." I hugged him tighter, and he pressed his face into my neck.

"Sometimes I don't know if I'm enough."

"Don't do that. We had this conversation. I love this. I love what you do to me."

Arthur whispered something back. I couldn't quite make it out, but I could have sworn he said, "I love you." My heart thundered in my chest, and I felt a mixture of panic and elation. If that's what he said, did he mean it, or was it just the aftermath of orgasm? How did I feel? I'd never been in love; never even had the chance to get fond of anybody. I had nothing to compare it to, but in any case, I didn't think I was at that point. I cared about him; I would have done pretty much anything to keep him safe. Other than that—

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he murmured.

"It's okay." I kissed his ear. "I care about you; you know that, right?" I didn't think about what I was saying. The words came out on their own.

"I know."

I imagined how I would feel if I woke up one morning and he wasn't there. If I came home from work and he wasn't in our room. If we were out one night and some homophobic arseholes attacked us and killed him before I could stop it. If I lost him.

"I'm very fond of you, Arthur," I blurted. "I've never felt like this about anyone. If I lost you, I'd—I don't know what I'd do."

He laughed softly. "You're not going to lose me. And it's enough, what you said. The fact that you care is enough. I've never felt like this before either."

We lay in silence, holding each other, until I remembered the stew was getting cold in the pan and my stomach was empty. I released him and sat up, just as he said, "The stew will be cold."

I laughed and reached for my underwear. Arthur had used his own to wipe us off. I put them on, pulled on a T-shirt, and went to check the food. The stew was still warm, so I poured it into two bowls. Arthur put on his pyjama pants, and we sat on the bed eating while we watched TV.

The news reported the names of the two men we'd killed, and said that one had no known family, while the other was estranged from his due to his violent tendencies. No one missed them. There was no explanation for their deaths, only the suggestion that they'd got in a fight and come off worst.

I glanced at Arthur and smiled. He nodded, and shovelled the last spoonful of stew into his mouth. We were okay. Until the next time.