Chapter 10

Arthur got ready for bed in the bathroom and emerged wearing pyjama pants and a T-shirt.

"There's a spare toothbrush in the cupboard," he told me.

"Thanks." I probably should have gone back to my apartment to get my own stuff, and something to sleep in, but I simply brushed my teeth and stripped down to my T-shirt and underwear.

Suddenly, I was nervous. I'd never spent the night with anyone. I doubted I'd sleep, so lying awake for hours and not disturbing Arthur would be difficult. If I managed to sleep, I might dream and if it was bad, I could thrash about and hurt him, or scare him. I had no intention of changing my mind and leaving him alone, and I couldn't stay in the bathroom all night either. I took a deep breath, opened the door, and went into the bedroom.

Arthur was already in bed, with the glow of a bedside lamp lighting the room. He looked as nervous as I felt. "I've never spent the night with anyone."

"Makes two of us." I dumped the rest of my clothes on a chair in the corner of the room and slid into the bed. It was a double but didn't seem very big with two men in it. I lay on my back with my hands resting on my chest.

"Really?" Arthur shuffled around until he was lying on his back too. His elbow nudged mine and he jerked away.

"Relax," I murmured, even though I was anything but relaxed myself. "I won't bite."

Arthur laughed, overly loud. "You said that the first time I met you properly."

"Yeah, I did. You gonna turn the light off?"

He rolled away from me and reached out to turn off the lamp. When he turned back, his arm bumped mine again. "Are you worried about having nightmares?"

"Not really," I lied. "I probably won't sleep much."

"I have some sleeping pills. You can have one."

"No, it's okay." I tried to relax, but my heart was hammering and despite my anxiety, my dick had started to fill. Damn it. The last thing I needed was to be lying next to him with a hard-on. I willed it to go down, but the minute I thought about it, I only got more aroused. I was in bed with a man I found attractive, his body just inches away from mine. I imagined moving my hand down to find his, lacing our fingers together. I wondered if he was having the same problem, and that thought developed into me thinking about his dick. Was he big? Thick? Thin? Cut, like me? Did he keep his pubic hair trimmed, or was it thick and natural? My erection throbbed and I scowled. For God's sake, Travis, think about something else.

I thought about everything Arthur had told me, about what happened to him when he was a kid, about a young man finding himself the carer of a woman he thought to be his mother, who had done nothing but abuse him and let her boyfriend beat him. I remembered him shaking and sobbing in my arms, and it had the effect of a cold bucket of water being flung over me. Thank God. The last thing he needed was me panting over him; he wanted comfort.

I slid my hand off my chest onto his arm, then felt my way down to his hand. He threaded his fingers through mine and held on.

"You all right?" I whispered.

"Yes." He swallowed. "Good night, Travis."

"'Night." I closed my eyes. Might as well try to sleep, although it probably wasn't going to happen.

It was still dark when I stirred. Apparently, I'd slept at least a little. I was warm and comfortable, and Arthur's hair was tickling my nose. His head rested on my shoulder, his hand on my chest, one leg draped over mine. My arm was under his neck, stretched out across the bed. I lifted it and rested it around him, feeling ribs through his T-shirt. He was so thin it horrified me. I trailed my fingers down his side to his hip and felt more bones. He was half-starved, not an ounce of flesh on him anywhere.

I tucked my face into his hair and breathed in. I wanted to take care of him and make all his troubles go away. Everything he had to deal with, and had gone through, made my own shit seem so trivial. I needed to fix myself; to make more effort to move on so I could be more use to him.

"Travis?" Arthur murmured against my neck.

"Mm hm?"

"You're still here?"

"Yeah. Go back to sleep." I pressed a kiss into his hair.

He moved his hand from my chest, up around my neck. His fingers brushed over my scar, then paused and traced it. I caught his hand in mine and guided it back to the middle of my chest.

"Some other time, Arthur. I'll tell you about it some other time," I whispered.

He didn't say anything else, and after a couple of minutes his breathing deepened as he slipped back into sleep. I didn't think I would sleep anymore, but it felt so good, lying in his bed holding him. I felt like I could let go and nothing would happen. I regulated my breathing so it matched his, and I drifted away.

When I woke, daylight filtered in between the drapes, and Arthur was awake, his head propped up on one hand, watching me from only a foot away. I was still lying on my back, my dick rock hard and straining against my underwear.

"I thought you said you wouldn't sleep much." Arthur grinned.

"Usually I don't. Are you okay?"

"I feel good. It was nice, having you here last night." His gaze slid away from mine and he flushed. "What happens now?"

I wondered if he was in the state I was. I didn't particularly want to get out of the bed the way I was. He seemed embarrassed just waking up with me, without me looking like I might jump him at any moment. "Why don't you make us some coffee? I'll go to the bathroom in a minute."

"Okay." He slid out of the bed immediately. He wasn't hard, and I wondered if maybe the meds affected him that way, or if he was just too nervous. As soon as I heard him in the kitchen filling the kettle, I got up, grabbed my clothes and went to the bathroom.

By the time I'd washed my face and cleaned my teeth, my morning wood had gone down. I put the rest of my clothes on and went to find Arthur. He was stirring sugar into two coffees and smoking. I took mine and smiled at him. "Thanks. Can I have a cigarette?"

Arthur offered me the pack. He looked sad and thoughtful; eyes huge in his pale face. I wanted to say something, but I wasn't sure what. Instead, I smoked and sipped my coffee. Arthur did the same, neither of us saying a word.

"I should probably, um—" I put my mug in the sink. "I have some stuff I need to do, and I have to get my meds."

"Sure! Of course. Um, yeah. Me too." Arthur grinned, fake and awkward. "I have a gig this morning."

"That's good." I found my shoes and shoved my feet into them. Don't be a dick, Travis, I told myself. "What time will you be finished?"

"Um, I'm sign-spinning later. Probably by three."

"You want to catch up later? Maybe get something to eat before I go to work? There's this diner down the block, does decent pie."

Arthur smiled more genuinely. "I know the one. It does nice coffee, too."

"So, you want to meet there about four?"

"Okay. Yes."

"See you this afternoon." I let myself out and went back to my apartment. I made a sandwich, took my meds, and sat down with my journal—the one I wrote for Dr Kane.

"Been having nightmares about Vietnam. Not every night. Often don't sleep enough. Didn't dream in Arkham, or I don't remember it if I did. Now, they're so vivid it's like being back there, in the jungle."

I rambled on for four pages, pouring out all my pain over Gerry that I'd shared with Arthur. A few tears dripped onto the pages, and I wiped them off with my sleeve. If Dr Kane thought I was a freak for falling for a man, too bad. I was probably about to fall for another one, but I had no intention of mentioning Arthur's name to her.

I grinned as I put the notebook aside and picked up my own personal one. It had been good spending the night with him. It seemed to help him, and it certainly helped me. I slept and I didn't dream. I started writing again.

"Not sure how to proceed with this, if there's anything there. He wasn't hard this morning. Meds? Was he nervous? Maybe he doesn't think about me that way. He's never done anything with anyone, but he told me if he did, he prefers men. I think. I'm clueless. Never had any luck with men or women. Except Gerry. Worried about making a move in case I freak him out."

I put the pen down and ran a hand over my mohawk. "Fuck. What am I thinking?" I said aloud. "The pair of us are so screwed up, we could never work."

Was that true? I lit a cigarette, tilted my head back and scowled at the ceiling. Arthur helped me. He made me feel like I could move past what had happened. One night with him and I felt so good, I felt safe, and I didn't dream. I'd just spent an hour spilling my guts into Dr Kane's journal about the worst thing that had happened to me, and that was because I wanted to get better—for Arthur. So I could be more use to him. Maybe there was a chance after all.