Chapter 18

"What about the camera?" I restrained myself from glancing up into the corner of the room.

"They're not monitored. Someone checks them from time to time, but mostly they're just recorded. If something happens, they can check the tapes. This isn't Arkham. They only worry if any of us seem likely to hurt ourselves, or somebody else. Rachel asked Charlotte about it, because she wanted to find out if she could get away with having a man in her room."

"Okay." I wasn't convinced, but I couldn't stop myself leaning closer to bring our lips together. The few brief moments we'd had together in Arkham seemed a long time ago. There had been no privacy in the shelter, and I longed to kiss him and feel his hands on me. The moment our tongues met my dick stiffened, and Arthur's groan told me he was becoming as aroused as I was. I tried to forget about the camera as I closed my eyes and slid my arms around him. It was just him and me, alone in a bedroom.

My imagination hurried things along, and I pictured us lying on the bed together naked, kissing, stroking, rubbing against each other. I broke the kiss with a gasp as Arthur stroked me through my pants, his hand quick and firm, making my balls pull up.

"Shit, stop," I breathed, and covered his hand with mine to still the movement. I came back to reality, convinced someone was watching us and either planning to burst in and stop us, or worse, watching with glee like they had their own personal porn show.

"You don't want to?" He sounded disappointed. "It feels like you do."

"What if someone's watching? I don't want to give them a show."

"We could go in the bathroom." Arthur grinned shyly and pulled out of my arms.

I got up. If the camera were being monitored it would be obvious what we were going into the bathroom for, but I didn't give a shit about that. I just didn't want some stranger looking at my dick in Arthur's hand.

I closed the door behind us and shrugged off my jacket. Arthur stepped close again and kissed me while he unfastened my shirt. My breath caught in my throat as he ran his hands over my chest and stomach, then stopped kissing me to press his lips to my neck. I leaned back against the door and let him do what he wanted. He'd never had the opportunity before, and I'd never been able to enjoy this much attention either.

He paused to take off his sweater and unbutton his shirt. I opened my eyes to watch as he uncovered pale skin stretched over his bony frame. He had a sprinkling of chest hair and small light brown nipples. He unfastened his pants too, before he realised I was watching.

"Don't look." He laughed harshly. "I'm not very sexy."

"You are to me." I pulled him closer, but he broke away and tugged his hands through his hair. Another laugh burst from him. "Arthur."

"S-sorry."

"Arthur, look at me."

He stood still and met my eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm nervous."

"Don't be. We're not doing anything we didn't do before under the tree at Arkham. We'll just have less clothes on, that's all."

"Yeah. Okay. Take yours off." He took a few deep breaths and dropped his shirt on the floor.

I finished removing my shirt, toed off my shoes, and unzipped my pants. I let them drop to my ankles, leaving me covered only by a pair of cheap Walmart boxers in blue and white stripes. "You want "not very sexy?" Shop at Walmart," I joked.

Arthur laughed, no longer with anxiety, and shoved his pants down. Underneath, he wore white briefs of the type I'd been provided with by the shelter. I stepped out of the bunch of pants around my ankles and reached for Arthur again. This time he pressed himself against me and tucked his face into my neck. I stroked my hands over his back, feeling every bone through his soft warm skin. He pulled his head back again to kiss me, and eagerly thrust his tongue into my mouth. My erection throbbed, and Arthur's hardened, nudging my thigh. He rolled his hips and rubbed himself against me, giving us both some friction. I slid my hands lower and cupped his arse. There wasn't a lot of flesh there, but I squeezed and stroked, and slipped my fingers into his underwear. He stopped kissing me, gasping for breath.

"You want me to stop?" I offered.

"No." He took his weight off me and pushed my boxers down to free my dick. "God, Travis, I need to come."

I groaned. "Me too. It's been too long." I lowered his underwear and his erection bounced free. I wrapped my hand around it and rubbed my thumb over the tip.

He whimpered and bit his lip. "I'm gonna last about five seconds." He grasped my dick and stroked, while I stroked him. The backs of our hands bumped against each other, and precome oozed from us both. I thought about tasting him and wondered what that would be like. I'd never sucked dick, although I'd been curious. But maybe Arthur wouldn't want that. After what happened to him it wasn't something he would ever do, and perhaps he wouldn't want it doing to him either. I wasn't about to ruin the moment, but we should probably talk about what we wanted at some point in the future. I quickened my pace, and Arthur's erection throbbed in my hand.

"I want to have sex," he blurted. Apparently, he was thinking about the same things I was. "Not here. When I get out of here. I mean I want to—" His voice shook, and he groaned. "I want you to fuck me. Fuck!" He came, spurting onto his lightly furred concave belly and my hand. It was enough to push me over the edge.

I closed my eyes as I finished, and Arthur continued stroking until he'd squeezed out the last drop. Then he slumped against me with a groan. I slid my arms around him, and we rested against each other, catching our breath.

"Travis. What I said, I was just thinking about it when I was coming. If you don't want that, it's okay."

"I do want that. I was thinking about it, too. I was thinking about things we might do when we have as much time as we want to try stuff."

"Good. I hope I can get out of here soon. I didn't care much before I met you. It was safe in Arkham. Now I do care. I want to be normal again, or as normal as I can be."

"Keep telling them what they want to hear like I did," I reminded him. "Try not to let things upset you. If something bothers you, think about getting out and being with me instead."

"I have to see Dr Marks again tomorrow. I'm supposed to start by talking about those kids attacking me, and then the guys on the subway. I'm going to write everything in my journal first, just like I told you. The subway guys, Sophie, Randall, Penny, and Murray Franklin. And about me trying to kill myself after I killed Penny." He chuckled. "I guess I spoiled the mood now."

"No, you didn't. You're just thinking about getting out of here. We should get cleaned up."

He laughed some more and peeled himself off me. "My shower isn't very big, but we can probably squeeze in there together if you want to."

"Is it hot?"

"Yes."

"Then it's better than mine."

We squeezed into the small cubicle together, which didn't give us much room to move about and wash ourselves, but the shower was hot and powerful, and simply standing still under it was pleasurable. Eventually, Arthur reached for the shower gel hanging on a hook below the showerhead and began washing me.

"Is this okay?" He ran his hands over my chest, working up a lather.

"It's more than okay." I hummed with pleasure as he washed every inch of my chest, stomach, and shoulders. His body brushed against mine in the tiny space, and coupled with his soapy hands on me, it made my dick swell again. Arthur spent more time pretending to wash it than he did on the rest of my body and I when I came for the second time, my legs grew weak. When I recovered, I took the shower gel from Arthur. "You want me to do you?"

"Oh, um, okay."

I started with his shoulders and worked my way down each arm, then moved to his chest. Lathering up the shower gel, I massaged his soft pecs in slow circles, then continued down to his stomach. He closed his eyes and rolled his head back until it rested against the wall. He was about half hard when I got to his thighs, then reached around him to wash his arse. I ran soapy fingers along the crack and dipped in to find his hole. His dick jumped and he groaned.

"Ohhhh, that feels good." He spread his legs a little. "Keep doing that."

I rubbed my finger back and forth across his hole, then circled it, while I wrapped my other hand around his erection and stroked slowly. He squirmed and shivered, fists clenched at his sides.

"You ever touch yourself here, Arthur?"

"Yeah. Sometimes."

Carefully, I pressed the tip of finger into him. "How about like this?"

"Yes," he gasped. He lifted his hands to my shoulders and held on tight. "More. Please."

I slid my finger deeper into his tight heat. The feel of him would have made me hard again in a second if I hadn't just come twice in quick succession. I jerked him harder as I curled my finger inside him. Arthur bucked his hips, pushing himself into my fist and then grinding himself onto my finger. I grinned as he came again with a deep groan, then slumped against me as if his knees had gone weak like mine did. I took my hands off him and slid my arms around him instead.

"You okay?"

"Yes. God, I can't wait to get out of here. I want you so much," he sighed.

"I know. Me too." I let the rapidly cooling water rinse us again, then turned it off. "You got towels?"

"Yes." He opened the door and grabbed two rough towels from a rail. We slipped out of the cubicle and dried ourselves, then got dressed. Arthur opened the bathroom door and we returned to his bedroom. "Have you got any cigarettes?" he asked.

"Sure." I took the pack and a lighter out of my jacket pocket.

Arthur opened the sash window. There were bars on the outside to stop people jumping out or escaping, but as the window opened upwards, we could at least get fresh air. I lit two cigarettes and we stood at the opening, blowing the smoke outside. A little drifted back into the room, but there was no smoke alarm in the room.

When we finished the cigarettes, we sat on the bed for a while and talked. Mostly, Arthur recounted aspects of his stories that he'd told me before. He told me about the three guys in the train again, and this time he didn't seem upset by it. He recited what actually happened, and then told me how he imagined a different story—shooting them, then running away and dancing in a public bathroom.

"I did dance," he added. "Of course, I was in my apartment thinking about what happened. I didn't run home. I limped. I was bruised and battered. My nose was bleeding. I imagined this other scenario where I punished them and then I danced in the room. It was a small room with a lot of things in it—the couch I slept on, a table, cupboards and shelves and the TV and a video recorder. I danced and I felt better. I had pushed the memory of what really happened out of my head."

I nodded. "I get it. Someday, we can dance together like we talked about before."

Arthur smiled. "I don't even mind if there's nowhere to go out and we have to stay at your place or mine. When I get out of here, I'll be happy to dance with you anywhere."